43
Tukayyid
Free Rasalhague Republic
23 May 3052 (Day 23 of Operation Scorpion)
The terrible calm settling over him intrigued and frightened Phelan Kell Wolf. Clad in a gray jumpsuit showing a red dagger-star patch on his right shoulder and the Thirteenth Wolf Guards red and black spider patch on his left, he held his head high, as any warrior had the right to do. Almost arrogantly, he hooked his left thumb through the gunbelt looped over his left shoulder and refused to care that others thought his wearing a gun in the cockpit was stupid. He was a Wolf and their Clan had not tasted defeat at the hands of the Com Guards. His unit, in particular, with Natasha Kerensky at its head, had purposely destroyed every Com Guard unit thrown at it.
The weight of the silver coin in his right hand marked the importance of what it represented. When his opponent arrived, he and Vlad would both place their coins in the gravity funnel device standing at his right hand. The coins would spin and spin around, racing each other down to the clear collection tube. The coin on top would determine who had the choice of weaponry, and to the loser would go the choice of venue.
Phelan had already engaged in this ritual four times. He had met and defeated four other warriors from the House of Ward. He had killed only one, and he regretted that the Elemental had given him no other choice. Though part of him was weary of fighting after the war with ComStar, he held himself proudly. I will not be defeated.
Standing there in the middle of a show ring in an agrocomplex whose owner bred and trained horses as a hobby, Phelan could feel the tension in the crowd slowly filling the building to the edge of the central circle of light. They had come to see the final battle in the Bloodname contest for the name of Cyrilla Ward. That name had a nearly sacred reputation, and the finalists were known to hate each other. If the crowd was lucky, the two MechWarriors would decide to fight it out with bare hands, right there in the center of the ring.
Above him circular screens filled with an image of the center ring. The camera slowly zoomed in on him, then the image cut to two men approaching from the north end of the building. As they broke through the crowd, Phelan instantly recognized them both and a spark of anxiety flashed in his chest. Vlad hadto be present for the Decision of the coins, but the other man was not the individual he had hoped to have overseeing it.
Conal Ward removed his arm from around Vlad's shoulders and mounted the wooden dais before the two MechWarriors. Tall, dark-haired, and handsome, he exuded confidence and majesty. "I am the Oathmaster and accept responsibility for representing House Ward here. Do you concur in this?"
So this is the reason for Conal's presence here. For the final test, he, the Clan Loremaster, will represent his own house."Seyla." Out of respect for the office, Phelan bowed appropriately, then straightened and watched his enemy.
The bright spotlight burned silver highlights into Vlad's slicked-back hair. The MechWarrior, as he bowed his head to Conal, adjusted his belt and let Phelan see the buckle. A black hound's-head, its eyes were filled with malachite. "Seyla," Vlad breathed solemnly.
Phelan forced down his anger. He had become a bondsman in the Wolf Clan when Vlad defeated and captured him.Vlad had taken that belt buckle from him and used it as a symbol to remind Phelan of his inferiority. As much as Phelan wanted it back—because of what it represented and because it had been made for him by a lover who had died fighting the Clans—Phelan refused to let Vlad know he had gotten to him.
He saw Vlad studying him for a reaction. You want to play little games, Vlad. Here, interpret this.Phelan kept his face blank, but raised his left hand, and as if scratching an itch, traced a line from above his left eye down to his jaw.
Vlad jolted as if hit with lighting. The line Phelan had drawn mirrored the scar on Vlad's face. Seeing Vlad's cheeks flush, Phelan knew the man was dying inside because the scar reminded him that he owed his life to Phelan. He had been weak and Phelan had saved him. It is a shame he believes can only be expunged by killing me.
Conal looked from one man to the other. "What transpires here will bind us all until we all shall fall. You are the best the House of Ward has to offer. This is impressive because, unlike other Houses and other Clans, House Ward lost no Bloodnamed warriors in the fighting here on Tukayyid, and covered itself with glory instead. That you have come this far means you will forever be remembered, but only one of you will win a Bloodname here today.
"In accepting your part in this battle, do you understand that you sanctify, with your blood, Nicholas Kerensky's determination to forge the Clans into the pinnacle of human development? Do you understand that being chosen to participate marks you as elite, but victory here will rightly place you among the few who have existed at the zenith of all the Clans hold sacred?"
"Seyla."
The Loremaster smiled easily. "You are Vlad and you have seen twenty-four years. Why are you worthy?"
Vlad's head came up and he played to the crowd through the viewscreens. "I have consistently tested out in the top 2 percent of my sibko. As a result of my actions against the Nova Cats, I was chosen as a Star Commander for the scouting expedition that brought us again into the Inner Sphere. In my first engagement, I killed a number of pirates and mercenaries. Without appreciable effort on my part, I likewise captured this Warrior standing before me."
Vlad paused to let that comment sink in, then continued. "In the invasion of the Inner Sphere, I have participated in every assault mounted by the Wolves. On Rasalhague, I personally killed four of their feared Drakøns. In the most recent fighting on Tukayyid, my Star did not give back one millimeter of the terrain we took. Prior to the battle today, I killed two Mech Warriors and an Elemental for the right to participate here."
Conal turned to Phelan. "You are Phelan Wolf and have seen twenty-one years. Why are you worthy?"
Phelan swallowed to clear his throat, then began reciting his history. "I was chosen by Cyrilla Ward to be heir to this Bloodname. I was adopted into the Warrior Caste after proving my worthiness through service as a bondsman. I trained and tested out as a Warrior. Singlehandedly I conquered Gunzburg, and on Satalice I captured Prince Ragnar of Rasalhague. On Hyperion I led the defense of the Simmons Dam and hunted renegades in the badlands. On Diosd I participated in the coursing and the killing of the Third Freeman's Command Lance. Prior to the battle today, I defeated two Elementals, a flyer, and a MechWarrior for the right to participate here."
The Loremaster started to speak, but Phelan cut him off. "And, as a bondsman, I rescued my opponent from certain death at the battle of Radstadt."
Faux pas it might have been to make that statement, but the flush of crimson on Vlad's face made it worth risking censure. Conal looked at Phelan as if he wished to strike him dead with a word, and Vlad's nostrils flared with fury. Vlad hooked his thumbs in his belt again, but Phelan refused to take the bait and never broke off his stare into the other man's eyes.
Conal Ward extended his hands toward both men. "The heroism and courage you both have displayed has been established and verified. Your claims are not without substance. No matter what ensues and what fate you meet in this battle, the brightness of your light will not be diminished. Present the tokens of your legitimate right to participate here."