Warrior: En Garde

  Quintus helped Dan snap the jacket's unique double-breast into place. The black layer of cloth had been cut in the shape of the wolf's-head design that was central to the Kell Hound crest. The pointed ears snapped up at the shoulders and the snout fastened down at the waist. The fiery scarlet eyes matched the rest of the jacket's color. The inverted black chevron imposed over a blood-red triangle on Dan's collar mimicked the Lyran insignia for a Hauptmann, though the Kell Hounds called the rank Captain.

  Dan's voice dropped lower as he painfully worked a black armband up past his left elbow. "Patrick kept shooting and destroying Panthers as the Warhammer attacked him. He wanted to whittle down the Kurita numbers so that we could drive out the remainder of their force after he died. He drew the Warhammer to himself, and in doing so, saved the rest of us."

  Quintus backed away to better study his son's uniform, then nodded with satisfaction. "You look good."

  "Thanks. Not every day I get to meet the Prince."

  "Indeed." A frown creased Quintus's brow. "Dan, are you certain that the Warhammer's pilot was Yorinaga Kurita?"

  Dan smiled. "That, and questions about the unit's designation, have been really popular with your debriefers, father."

  The Minister nodded solemnly. "We have no record of any Kurita unit known as the Genyosha. As for Yorinaga Kurita, the last we knew, he had retreated to a Zen monastery on Echo Five."

  Dan shrugged, then winced. "I watched Yorinaga stalk Morgan eleven years ago. When you see a MechWarrior that good, you don't forget him. You'll remember his moves no matter how long it's been. I'm just sorry that Cat saw him punch out after my Vol hit him."

  Quintus shook his head. "You shouldn't be. All our reports suggest that when he ejected, the tactical commander, Sho-sa Ni-iro, panicked. He ordered the retreat that Patrick had bluffed him into believing had been cut off."

  Dan flicked a white thread from his black trousers. "The Cu jumped out here to Northwind when the Mac reached it. The threat of our aerofighters kept the Kurita DropShips at bay, and so they returned to their JumpShips. We loaded all our spare equipment and the refugees onto the Silver Eagle and used the Bifrost to reach Northwind."

  The valet knocked gently at the door, then opened it a crack. "Excuse me, Count Quintus ... Lord Daniel.. . but the Prince has requested your presence in his office before the ceremony."

  Quintus led his son through the corridors of the government building Hanse Davion had converted into his headquarters on Northwind. "The Prince assembled his staff and brought us all here to Northwind when the first message from Vandermeer reached New Avalon. Your mother and your sister Riva will arrive on the next run up from New Avalon."

  Dan shook his head. "They didn't have to ..."

  Quintus winked at his son. "Truth be told, I think they're coming as much to meet the passenger you rescued as they are to be sure you survived this battle in one piece."

  * * *

  The two CID guards at the office door snapped to attention. Quintus nodded to them and preceded his son into the room Prince Davion had appropriated for his makeshift office on Northwind. The whitewashed walls contrasted sharply with the wooden pillars supporting the ceiling.

  Hanse Davion stood up behind an unfinished wooden desk. "Welcome, Quintus and Daniel. May I offer you both a drink?" Before either man could reply, the Prince had crossed behind where Melissa sat swathed in a silver-gray robe of native snow-fox furs. He poured an amethyst liquid into two crystal goblets, then held both goblets out to Quintus, who passed one to his son.

  Dan shot a quick glance over at Cat Wilson. Clad in his dress uniform, Cat looked uneasy for the first time since Dan had known him. He held his glass of wine carefully, as though the goblet might somehow shatter at any moment.

  Beyond him, Salome caught Dan's eyes and they shared a smile at Cat's apparent discomfort. Salome's dress uniform differed only in the rank insignia at the collar and in the cut of her trousers. While Dan's were tucked into the tops of his cavalry-style boots, Salome's trousers hung loose and square to just below her knees. Like both Dan and Cat, she wore a black armband on her left sleeve.

  Seated between the standing Kell Hounds and the Prince's desk, Andrew Redburn and Clovis Holstein turned to acknowledge Dan's arrival. To Dan's eyes, Andrew looked only slightly less comfortable than Cat. He also noticed that the right shoulder of his golden Sunburst Vest now featured a narrow white band across the base. Dan smiled. That man certainly deserved a promotion. Captain Redburn .. . That's got a nice ring.

  As Clovis gently set his wine glass on the table between him and Redburn, Dan thought that the outfit they had given him looked very much like a Royal Brigade uniform. Cut perfectly to his diminutive form, the military uniform lent Clovis an air of nobility.

  The Prince seated himself at the desk. "As you know, in a few minutes, I will honor the Kell Hounds and the other defenders who held off the Kurita forces on Styx. I will speak about how you protected a hijacked DropShip, and how you drove off superior forces. I will speak about those who gave their lives: Captain von Breunig, Diane McWilliams, Bethany Connor, and Mary Lasker. I will especially mention the supreme sacrifice made by Patrick Kell."

  The Prince paused and looked toward Melissa. Taking up a position behind her, he rested his hands upon her shoulders. She reached her left hand up to touch him, but her right hand brushed away tears.

  A lump rose to Dan's throat. Patrick would have been happy to see them together. I'm glad she told him.

  The Prince looked up. "I have already spoken with the other members of the Kell Hounds and those Heimdall survivors who know that Melissa was on the Silver Eagle. Quintus Allard, meanwhile, has his CID people spreading the rumor that the Silver Eagle was carrying an important Lyran official coming secretly to New Avalon for medical treatments at the NAIS."

  The Prince hesitated, seeming unsure of himself for a moment. "I asked the five of you here because you were present when Melissa told Patrick Kell of our engagement." He smiled down at Melissa and squeezed her shoulders. "I am not sorry she did so, for perhaps the news helped to ease his passing."

  Cat raised his glass. "To Patrick Kell, and the dreams he died to protect."

  Everyone in the room nodded silently and drank.

  Hanse was studying each of their faces. "You all realize, of course, that no word, no rumor, of this engagement must yet slip out. If it were to become common knowledge, chaos would reign. Neither of our realms is ready for such a revelation. Critics of the alliance within both the Federated Suns and the Lyran Commonwealth would attempt to stir up controversy."

  Melissa leaned forward. "Knowledge of our betrothal could do even worse than that. It would make Kurita and Marik feel trapped. It would unite our enemies, and that would create serious problems for stability in the Successor States."

  Salome nodded solemnly. "I speak for the Kell Hounds, Highnesses, when I say that our lips have been sealed by the blood of our dead comrades. If we were to betray this secret, we would be betraying the sacrifice that they made."

  Clovis also nodded agreement. "I'll share this information with no one, inside Heimdall or out. Not even my mother shall learn of it from me." He glanced down at his boots and added in a tense whisper, "And never my father."

  Prince Hanse nodded solemnly. "Captain Redburn has already given me his oath, and he has been duly rewarded for his efforts on Melissa's behalf." The Prince indicated Clovis with a quick nod and grin. "Clovis has also bargained for a reward. He and his people have been pardoned for the hijacking. We have offered them whatever medical treatment they require, and are providing for them here on Northwind until they can return to the Lyran Commonwealth."

  The Prince looked up at the three mercenaries and shrugged helplessly. "Had I the chance right now, I would gladly give the Kell Hounds titles and land. I would make you heroes in the Federated Suns. When the day comes that all this can be revealed, I will induct you into the Order of Davion. I have already issued the Dragon Slayer's Ribbon for the
Kell Hounds as a unit. I have also prepared a document to be opened after the wedding, that awards posthumously, each of your slain comrades the Medal Ex-calibur. I will have a monument built to them on New Avalon."

  The Prince paused and swallowed hard. "But what can I do for you now? I know medals and titles mean nothing when you have lost comrades. How can I reward your bravery?"

  Dan cleared his throat and inched forward. "I'll speak for myself. What I did was foolish and desperate, but it's now considered brave because of the result. I did what I felt I had to do, and I still didn't save Patrick. Now Patrick .. . well ... he knew exactly what he was doing. He continued to kill Panthers so that the rest of us could live. He goaded the Kuritans into attacking the Victor so that we would survive. He knew, from the moment he hatched that plan, that he'd never walk away alive. But he hoped that Melissa and some of the rest of us would. That's bravery and courage."

  Dan opened his hands and winced at the pain shooting through his shoulder. "The best reward for me would be something that would keep Patrick's memory alive. I don't mean a statue or a medal." Dan swallowed past the lump in his throat. "Maybe a scholarship ... one that would give potential MechWarriors with the same sort of 'heart' as Patrick the chance to get the training they could never have otherwise. That would be reward enough for me."

  Dan felt Cat's hand on his shoulder. "I agree with Captain Allard, your Highness." Salome nodded her approval as well.

  Prince Hanse smiled genuinely. "It shall be done."

  Melissa leaned forward earnestly once more. "It shall be done here, and in the Lyran Commonwealth," she said. "Patrick Kell shall never be forgotten."

  Epilogue

  Sian

  Sian Commonality, Capellan Confederation

  10 June 3027

  Justin glared at Tsen Shang as two servants knelt at his feet, carefully tucking the silken trousers into the ankles of the black court slippers. Then he looked back at the mirror, which reflected him dressed in a full-length silken coat of gold cloth embroidered with black tigers and with riding slits in front and back. When Shang merely smiled back amiably, Justin said, "If you find this so amusing, I'll trade places with you."

  Shang shook his head. He wore a robe of similar length and cut, though his was deep blue with a design of yellow dragons worked into it. "That would not help you, Justin. We are bound for the same place." Shang clapped his hands sharply and the servants withdrew. "Follow me."

  Justin snorted. "If you'd said that on Solaris, I would have..."

  Shang shrugged. "I do as I am told, Justin. This way."

  Justin walked behind Shang as they passed quietly through carpeted hallways. Muted lights glowed from within stone lanterns and cast just enough light for Justin to make out a few of the mythological designs in the carpet. The MechWarrior also marveled at all the exquisite teak latticework as Shang led him deeper into the building.

  What Justin did not like was the fuzziness of his narcotic hangover. His muscles ached as though he'd caught the flu, though he knew that to be a residue of the jumps through hyperspace. How far have they taken me? he wondered.

  Shang stopped before two massive bronze doors and motioned for Justin to stand beside him. From beyond the doors, Justin heard the muffled thunder of a gong. As the doors slowly opened, the gong's dying echoes bled out into the corridor. Justin felt Shang's hand on his elbow and allowed himself to be steered into the room.

  Longer than it was wide and rising up to another level, the cavernous room dwarfed Justin. In the soft, indirect lighting, the walls of the main floor glowed a dull red that lent a feeling of warmth to the chamber. The upper section, with its balconies latticed in intricate teakwork, gave Justin the impression that he had been invited into a viewing gallery.

  At the far end of the room was a dais holding a huge throne. The throne's back had been carved from a single piece of mahogany. Even from the doorway, Justin recognized the carven symbols and images as from Capellan mythology. The throne, quite literally, was backed by the universe. Seated there, with his hands clasped before him, was Maximilian Liao.

  With the deliberation of a spider, the Capellan Chancellor rose slowly from his seat. He, too, wore a formal robe extending to the ankles. All black, except for the silver of the Liao crest embroidered over his heart, the garment fell in straight lines that emphasized Liao's tall, slender frame. As the Chancellor stared at Justin with steely eyes and a stony expression, Justin felt as though he were being mechanically scanned, digitized, and analyzed.

  "Zao, Justin Xiang." The Chancellor bowed slightly in the MechWarrior's direction, then waved him forward. "I have anticipated this meeting with great pleasure."

  Justin bowed deeply, then advanced, feeling Shang follow several steps behind. By the time Justin had reached the dais, Liao was seated once more, his fingers steepled together in a sinister fashion. The thin wisps of moustache trailing down beside his mouth made Liao's masklike face appear even more inhuman.

  "You have kindled pride in my heart with your victories." Liao then looked past Justin. "And Tsen Shang has reported your great contribution toward frustrating the trap that Hanse Davion had set us."

  Maximilian handed a sealed document to Justin, who accepted it with a bow. "Open it, Xiang. The contents should please you."

  Justin slid his thumb beneath the red wax seal and broke it. As he unrolled the rice paper and quickly scanned the lettering, a frown creased his brow. "I don't understand."

  The barest hint of a smile twisted Liao's lips and put life in his eyes. "As well you know, Justin Xiang, the fact that you were born in the Confederation to a Capellan woman does not guarantee you citizenship. In our realm, each person must first contribute to the society in a way that makes it grow and makes it proud. That is the lifeblood of the Confederation—service of the individual to the whole of society. As a youth, you never completed an activity that would have earned your citizenship." Liao smiled more fully. "Your battles on Solaris, however, have made you more than worthy of the citizenship that document confers upon you."

  Justin's heart caught in his throat. "I don't know what to say . . ."

  Liao nodded sagely. "You need say nothing. You have earned it, and I trust that you will continue to offer your worthy services in the future."

  Justin bowed. "I would be honored to battle in the games you sponsor here in the Confederation."

  Liao shook his head. "No, Justin Xiang. Unlike other rulers in the Successor States, I see with a clear vision. I know your true worth. We are all aware that you fight like a demon in the arenas and that many spectators would rejoice to see you compete in the next quarterly games. In fact, Yen-lo-wang has been brought here to Sian for your use."

  The Chancellor stood abruptly and towered over the MechWarrior. "Though your skill is great, it would be a needless risk to let you step into the arena again," Liao said, producing another cruel smile. "More valuable to me than your reflexes and your tactical skill is your mind. You know how Hanse Davion thinks and plans, having taken part in so many Federated Suns actions. You also know your father well enough to guess how he may react in a certain situation. Best of all, you know fellow graduates from Sakhara, and have served with other key Davion commanders. All the intelligence training I give my people could never duplicate your close knowledge of the ways of House Davion."

  Liao paused as he looked hard at Justin for a moment. "I watched with outrage as Davion justice spat you out like so much chaff. I nearly ordered my people to deny that you were an agent, but I knew Count Vitios would have taken that to be even greater proof of your guilt. I grieved for you as everyone turned against and abandoned you." Liao pointed to Tsen Shang. "When I learned that you had gone to Solaris, I ordered Shang to help you in any way he could."

  Justin nodded. "What would you have me do, Chancellor?"

  Again Liao smiled like a predator. "It is not what I would have you do, but the opportunity I will make for you. Because of Tsen

  Shang's excellent pe
rformance, I have recalled him here to Sian to serve as a Maskirovka analyst. I offer you this same chance to put your knowledge of the Federated Suns to use. You will sift through reports to help determine the truth about Hanse Davion's plans and intentions. These analyses will help me to one day destroy our mutual enemy, Hanse Davion."

  Justin nodded solemnly. "And if I accept this commission, how will you know to trust me?"

  The Chancellor threw back his head and laughed heartily. It was not a pleasant sound. "Ah, Justin, I can read you like a book. I know, despite what they have put you through, that you will not betray your family to harm. That I admire, and so I will not ask such things of you. But in the work of breaking Hanse Davion as he tried to break you, in this I know you can be trusted."

  Justin nodded. "You are correct. I willingly accept your offer."

  Liao smiled broadly. "Excellent." At a single clap of his hands, a wall panel slid up into the ceiling. Liao descended from the throne and led the way toward the opening. "Come. It is time for us to celebrate your arrival, and to dine with yet another ally."

  Justin followed the Chancellor, then jerked to a halt in the doorway. The only other guest was already seated in the dining room, his bright green uniform clashing violently with the rich artistry of the embroidered silk screens surrounding the table on three sides. The petulant look on the man's face disturbed the sense of peace that the arrangement of cherry blossoms on the dark walnut table was meant to create.

  Liao glanced back over his shoulder and noted Justin's astonishment. "I thought you knew our other guest," he said.

  Justin nodded slowly and lurched forward with a stiff-legged gait. "We have met." Justin forced a smile to his lips, but his eyes showed no warmth. "Politics makes for strange bedfellows," he said, extending his hand to the man seated to the right of Liao's place of honor.

  "Indeed," murmured Duke Michael Hasek Davion as he took Justin's preferred hand. "And that is because the end always justifies the means."