Текст книги "Wolves On The Border"

Автор книги: Robert N. Charette

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13

Hoshon Mansion , Cerant, An Ting

Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine

9 November 3024

 

The arrow thudded home two fingersbreadths from the previous shaft, completing the practice pattern on the fifth target. Minobu shifted his attention to the sixth target and selected another arrow. Fitting it to the string, he raised the bow above his head. He paused for an instant, then lowered the bow, bringing the arrow to full draw at the same time. He waited for the moment when archer, arrow, and target became one. He waited and ... “Husband!”

... the moment came—he released the arrow, letting it fly smoothly to its mark at the center of the target.

Now he could deal with Tomiko's interruption.

Minobu unstrung and racked the bow, then closed the cover to protect it and its fellows from An Ting's chill morning air. He turned to the house, shrugging his kimono on to his bare shoulders. In the doorway, his wife stood shivering in her robe.

When he stepped inside, she closed the panel behind him and reached to put her arms around his neck. “You are so cold, husband. Could you not practice your kyudoindoors?”

“If I did, I would have no need for you to warm me afterward,” he said, gathering Tomiko in his arms. Minobu found her lips while his hand reached for the tie that secured her raven hair at the nape of her neck. As he pulled her down to their futon,her hair fell free, bringing a new night sky to shroud their privacy.

She pulled back from his embrace. “Your aide, Captain Noketsuna, called. There is someone to see you.”

“Things are peaceful on the border.” He slid his hand down her neck, past the edge of her robe, and caressed her breast. “Let them wait.”

“He seemed concerned,” she persisted, though her voice was husky with the thrill of pleasure.

“Pity the poor samurai whose wife is more devoted to his duty than to him.”

She smiled teasingly as she poked him and slid free of his clasp. He returned her grin.

“If it is peaceful, there will be other times,” she said.

“Other times, eh? All right, I will be off to my duty.” A hint of mischief crept into his voice. “But I shall condone no complaints from my wife when I visit the pleasure quarter because she has no interest in me.”

He dodged the pillow whose fine cedarcine wood would have raised a serious bruise. It tumbled past him to strike harmlessly on the floor. When she did not join in his laughter, he saw that her face was serious.

“It is something to do with those awful Dragoons, isn't it?” Her words were more a statement than a question. “They will be your misfortune.”

“Most likely it is the Dragoons, but you should not speak of them so. Ever since I was assigned to them over a year and a half ago, they have been our goodfortune. As their liaison, I have been assigned this fine home, where we live in comfort. Our son Ito has been accepted for the spring term at Sun Zhang Academy. Could you ask for a surer sign of favor? It will guarantee him a post as a ‘MechWarrior.”

She sighed, unconvinced. “Sometimes it seems like an illusion. I worry so. You spend so much time with those ... mercenaries.”

Tomiko uttered the word with such distaste. Minobu wondered if his own voice had revealed the same scorn when he had learned of this assignment. If so, the scorn was gone now. He had learned much in his posting to the Dragoons.

“I spend time with them because it is my duty.”

“You needn't spend your free time with that Jaime Wolf.”

“No, I need not.” It was the old argument again. “That, at least, is by choice. Jaime is more than an ordinary mercenary soldier. He is many things, but foremost, he is a man of honor. Besides, does not the Coordinator encourage us to enlighten promising souls to the superiority of the Dragon? I am but doing my part.”

She turned her back to him, signaling the end of the argument in a manner he knew too well.

He finished dressing without another word from her. When he was ready, Minobu looked again at his wife, who had not moved. He walked to the door, opened it, and stepped through to the corridor. “I will be in the office,” he said, closing the panel.

The walk through the private quarters of Hoshon Mansion was short, but the dark wood accents and the finely made shojipanels created a sense of peace that settled his nerves. This house, with its simple, traditional furnishings, often had that effect on him.

Minobu entered his office by the inner door. In the outer room, he could hear the strident tones of Natasha Kerensky berating his aide. Poor Michi Noketsuna! The young Tai-iwas too new at his job to have to deal with the fiery Captain Kerensky at this early an hour. Minobu sat at his desk and pressed the stud that would illuminate a telltale on Noketsuna's desk letting him know that Minobu was present.

Noketsuna must have been waiting for that signal. Almost immediately, he shifted his pleas for calmness on Captain Kerensky's part to specific requests that she sit down so that he could take care of some business in the inner office. She gave him no chance. “Oh no you don't, you little Japanese stonewall. I saw that light. I'm going in with you.”

She was as good as her word.

Michi Noketsuna reached the desk first. Minobu's practiced eye saw that he was upset, but the young Captain managed to maintain his decorum. Not a strand of black hair was out of place. Michi's skin was darker than typical for most Kuritans of Japanese ancestry, and Minobu suspected that his coloring probably concealed any flush of embarrassment at the garb of their visitor.

As usual, Natasha Kerensky was dressed provocatively. Whether it was the silver cord with dangling onyx wolf's-head that tied back her dark red curls or the highly glossed boots of speckled shantleather, each garment she wore accentuated her renowned beauty. A custom-built Marakov slug-thrower was slung low on her hip, and the flash of light on the gun's ivory grips drew attention to the sway of her hips. The weapon added a menacing accent to her carefully cultivated image. She was well aware of her effect on men and had been known to take advantage of it.

Kerensky started to harangue Minobu as soon as Noketsuna began his explanation of the situation. Minobu could not follow either of them. “Please, Captain Kerensky, you will have my full attention just as soon as I can get the story of what has happened,” he said, indicating the chair across from his own. She took it, but her foot tapped the floor in an angry rhythm. “Now, Captain Noketsuna, please start again.”

He did. The story was simple and one that Minobu had heard before. Kerensky's Independent Company, the notorious “Black Widows,” were once again in port on liberty, and once again, the Civilian Guidance Corps had detained members of the company on charges of drunk and disorderly, destruction of property, and sundry other incidents of mayhem. This time, at least, there were no charges of murder.

Minobu listened through his aide's reading of each circumstance, then he questioned him on specifics, asking Kerensky for clarification. Despite her terse and hostile responses, it soon became clear that the charges were all minor and Kerensky's protests merely perfunctory. She was displaying the fierce loyalty of a she-bear for her cubs. Indeed, Minobu had heard other Dragoons opine that those cubs, her troopers, would follow her through all the Buddhist hells. Such loyalty was enviable and the one who could inspire it was fortunate. Minobu found it pitiable that her social form was so unmannered and impolite.

As it was not the first time her troops had created a disturbance on An Ting, he decided that it was necessary to make a point. “Captain Kerensky, even though the revenues of An Ting are at the disposal of Wolf's Dragoons for the duration of the contract, the Dragoons are not the lords of the planet. The people of An Ting were here before the Dragoons came and will be here long after the Dragoons are gone. Neither you, your troops, nor any other Dragoons may make free with them. Upon release from Civilian Containment Quarters, your troopers are to be confined to the military reservation at Boupeig for the duration of their current stay on An Ting.”

Kerensky started to protest again, but he cut her off. “Of course, the damages will be charged to the Dragoons. Colonel Wolf will receive a full report on the situation and your response, Captain.”

Though obviously furious, Kerensky left without another word.

“She acts like a man,” Noketsuna commented after she slammed the door to the outer office. Minobu almost chuckled at his inexperience.

“That should be no surprise. She has lived a man's life and has been a ‘MechWarrior almost longer than you have been alive, my young friend.”

“Impossible! She is barely older than I.”

“Read her dossier. She was commanding a company before you entered the academy.” Michi's eyes widened. “She is a remarkable woman, Michigan. Just one of the remarkable things you will discover about Wolf's Dragoons. I have confidence that you will take it in stride. Otherwise, I would not have requested you for my aide. Now, before I swell your head further, what is the business of the day?”

Noketsuna directed his attention first to the military situation reports. Minobu felt pride when he saw that all the Dragoon units out on raids were reporting satisfactory progress. The elements of Epsilon Regiment engaged on Courasin signaled that operations were complete and that they were en route to their home base on Thestria. Davion activity in all sectors were minimal. In all, there were no surprises.

The next order of business was a review of the status of the Dragoon fighting units present onworld for furlough. Wolf had set up a regular schedule of relief rotations for the regiments. Each had a unit, sometimes as large as a battalion, on An Ting for rest and recreation at all times. It gave the troops a break from garrison duty or a vacation from the periodic raids along the border worlds.

It also meant that, in addition to the Dragoon dependents, An Ting had a considerable population of the fighting elements of the Dragoons at all times, almost as though it were a garrison station itself. Wolf had once told Minobu that this schedule was really Takashi Kurita's idea. The Colonel claimed that Lord Kurita had known Wolf would consider the planet assigned to the Dragoons for their dependents to be too close to the border and hence vulnerable to a deep-penetration raid. Wolf alleged that it was the Coordinator's way of getting a free garrison for a planet not listed in the service contract.

The rotation schedules were orderly. Branson's Company of Alpha Regiment was scheduled for return to Capra today to trade places with Specter's Battalion of Delta Regiment. Zeta Battalion was returning to An Ting for rest and refitting after the action on Bergman's Planet. Until the three companies from Gamma returned to the field, things would be a bit crowded at Boupeig. Minobu issued an order to open the southern barracks in preparation for Zeta's arrival.

The supply accounts were next. All was in order and by the book. Beta Regiment had filed a complaint, charging that the last shipment of cold-weather gear had been defective and inadequate to cope with the frigid temperatures of the Borealis continent's interior. Minobu initialed the note and issued a requisition for a replacement order to be sent through the Procurement Department. It was not like them to issue shoddy goods to a unit in the field. Gamma Regiment, Beta's companion on Misery, had no similar complaints. The only other item of note was a shipment of armaments from Ceres Metal that had arrived at An Ting's orbital station, pending transshipment to Delta Regiment on Capra. After reading the manifest and verifying its accuracy with Noketsuna, Minobu approved the transfer. There should be no problem in having the materiel reach the regiment before its next scheduled action.

The last item on the docket was a formal request from Training Command for clearance to commence practice maneuvers. They were intending a mock operation in orbit over the continent of Hotei in the northern hemisphere, and requested that the planetary defense network covering the zone be alerted to their presence. As ever, Colonel Wellman was cautious about the safety of his fledgling Dragoons. Minobu approved the request and forwarded it to the Kurita garrison commander for final approval.

As Minobu was putting the finishing touches on the note to the commander, Noketsuna returned carrying an envelope with ComStar seals appended. The somber look on the man's face showed his concern over the gravity of the missive. “This just arrived for you, sir. Eyes only.”

The cover flimsy cited the point of origin as the DropShip Chieftain.Though the ship had been in orbit above An Ting for a week, Minobu had heard nothing from Wolf after the friendly announcement of his return. Minobu opened the envelope and read the contents at once. The dramatic delivery was merely Wolf's way of getting his attention.

Noketsuna was waiting, hoping that his superior would favor him with a confidence as to the contents. His patience was short. “Has Davion attacked? Are we to go into battle with the Dragoons?”

“It is only an invitation, Michi-sara.” Noketsuna wilted in disappointment. “It does, however, include you in its scope.

“Colonel Wolf is hosting a celebration of something he refers to as Resolution Day. It is to take place aboard the Dragoon orbital facility.”

Noketsuna's disappointment vanished with the realization that he had just been invited onto previously forbidden ground. He beamed, obviously pleased by the honor.

Minobu, too, found it an honor. Once again, Jaime Wolf was holding out to him the hand of trust, a hand that Minobu had been proud to clasp in the past months. The invitation was a step further into Wolf's confidence and friendship. Minobu began to phrase his formal acceptance.

14

Hephaestus Station, An Ting Orbit

Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine

11 November 3024

 

Noketsuna opened the airlock door for Minobu and Tomiko, then stepped aside to allow them room in the cramped access passageway. Even so, the stiffened shoulders of Minobu's formal kataginubrushed him as the Chu-sapassed. Tomiko's formal kimono was no problem in that regard, but Noketsuna had to be careful not to step on her trailing hems.

In the softly lit corridor beyond, J. Elliot Jamison waited to greet them. The Colonel was as big and bulky as the assault BattleMechs he commanded in Zeta Battalion. A grin split his broad face, showing white teeth framed in the black of his beard and mustache.

“Good evening, Chu-saTetsuhara, Lady Tetsuhara,” he said as they stepped through the hatchway. “Welcome aboard Hephaestus Station.”

“Thank you, Colonel Jamison,” Minobu replied. “The station looked most impressive as we approached. I do not believe that I have seen its like before.”

“Most likely, Chu-sa.Though most of it is Star League-design, we've added a few things of our own. Hephaestusis quite useful to us.” Jamison led them along the corridor as he spoke. “This station has gained a bit of notoriety. You know that this is what the homebodies at Fasan Press call our factory. As if you could uproot a BattleMech factory and tow it around with you.”

“Then you don't produce your own BattleMechs?” Noketsuna asked.

Jamison gave him a sharp look before answering. “This facility can handle final assembly and most repairs, but it is certainly not set up for heavy manufacturing or fusion power plant production. Your basic introduction to battle technology should have told you that those operations are best performed onworld.”

“Please excuse my aide, Colonel,” Minobu said. “He is young and curious. We are here on recreation, not business.” Noketsuna took the oblique admonishment well.

“No excuses necessary,” said Jamison with good grace.

Despite Minobu's words to Jamison and his rebuke to Noketsuna, he was just as curious to learn all he could about the Dragoons. His aide's question had gotten an interesting response. Though Jamison had described some of the station's capabilities, he had not actually denied that the Dragoons could produce their own BattleMechs. Even when revealing some things, the Dragoons kept other secrets. But secrets were business and this business upset Tomiko. He had felt her stiffen at Noketsuna's question. Best to turn the conversation back to the order of the day, the good-natured celebration that Jaime Wolf intended.

“I have to admit to some curiosity as well. Colonel Wolf's invitation referred to this celebration as Resolution Day. I do not recognize the reference. Perhaps you could enlighten me?”

“Indeed, I could. But because the Colonel mentioned it to you, I think he should be the one to explain it.” Jamison's manner was by no means hostile, but he did seem to be hiding another secret. Where previously the man had evaded Noketsuna's question, now he seemed unsure what level of information should be available to the Kuritan visitors.

He seemed glad that they had just reached a final door, which hissed open to reveal a large chamber filled with civilians in brightly colored garb and Dragoons in their black dress uniforms. Most of the crowd was engaged in conversation or in making choices from the buffet, but several coupies were swaying to a gentle dance tune on an elevated dance floor. The primary illumination came through transparent panels in the ceiling. The sunlight reflected by An Ting, visible in blue and white glory, was the source.

Jamison led his charges to the buffet and made sure they were well-supplied from the bounty on the tables. He even found enough delicacies to fill Tomiko's plate, despite her uncharacteristic fussiness over the selections of foods.

For Noketsuna, Jamison found more than foodstuffs. He provided an introduction to a young Dragoon lady, beautiful in a shimmering lavender gown. Had there been any lingering thoughts of business in the young Tai-i'smind, they must have fled. Each youngster seemed to find the other fascinating. The constant motion of the crowd soon edged them into a corner, but they did not seem to notice or to mind.

Jamison's own companion appeared, and he introduced her as Jaella Domichardt. She wore a well-tailored high-collared Dragoon's dress uniform, with the twin stars of a Major on each sleeve. The conversation was light, but Tomiko's frosty manner seemed to annoy Domichardt. Before long, she was urging Jamison to dance, and he capitulated. Minobu and Tomiko were left to find their way through the throng.

Minobu greeted several Dragoons of his acquaintance, and they responded warmly. All the males were complimentary to Tomiko, who took in their flattery with an icy edge to her customary grace. Conversations were short-lived.

Among those they met was Dechan Fraser, the bold warrior Minobu had first encountered on Quentin. Fraser wore the silver disk of a Lieutenant now and shrugged off Minobu's congratulations as though they were no more deserved than his promotion. In another man, such a show of humility might have been false, but Minobu knew that Fraser's modesty was sincere. Not wishing to discomfit him further, he pretended to spot another friend and excused himself and Tomiko.

As they moved through the crowd, Minobu caught snatches of conversations—reminiscences, tales of past adventures and misadventures, both military and private. Everyone with whom they spoke was polite, and none refused to include the couple in their conversation. Some of the groups, especially those dominated by older Dragoons, seemed to falter when they noticed the Kuritan couple approaching, however. The talk always resumed quickly, but it was clear that the topic had changed.

At last, Minobu located Jaime Wolf near one of the huge silver punch bowls. The Colonel stood with a dark-haired woman whose pale blue gown fell in caressing folds over her shapely form. Even from a distance, Minobu could tell how relaxed the two were in one another's company. Seeing Minobu and Tomiko approach, Wolf broke into a pleased grin.

“Glad to see you could make it, Minobu-san.” Wolf turned to Tomiko and bowed in greeting. “A pleasure to see you again, Lady Tomiko. You look lovely tonight.”

“Your words are kind to an old woman, Lord Wolf.”

“Nonsense. They would only be kind if untrue. As it is, they understate the truth.”

“He is no flatterer, Lady Tetsuhara, as I well know.” The eyes of Wolf's companion twinkled with amusement. “Allow me to introduce myself, since Jaime is so overcome as to lose his manners. I am Marisha Dandridge, sometime helpmate to this vagabond Colonel.”

If Tomiko was offended by the forthright manner of the woman, she did not show it. She bowed.

“Our pleasure to meet you, lady,” Minobu said. “Jaime has kept you as one of his Dragoon mysteries. Are you a military secret?”

Wolf hung his head in mock acceptance of the rebuke. “Simply an oversight and lack of proper opportunity, my friend. Marisha is even busier than I. She works on the civilian side of the Training Command. A finer children's counselor you won't find. She's not too bad with us grown-ups, either.”

Dandridge nudged Wolf with her elbow before speaking to Tomiko. “Jaime tells me that your eldest son is to go to the Sun Zhang Academy.”

“Yes, it is an honor for our family.” Tomiko's reply was formal and brief. Even Dandridge's warm interest was not enough to thaw her reserve.

“Jaime said eldest son, Lady Tetsuhara. Do you have other children as well?” Dandridge seemed determined to draw Tomiko out from her redoubt of detachment.

“Yes, a daughter and another son. They are somewhat younger.” Again, she was brief and formal, but Minobu detected a crack in her reserve.

“Well, I know you would be interested in seeing the children's care and play facilities we have here.” Without waiting for Tomiko to respond one way or the other, Dandridge took her arm and began to lead her away. Though Tomiko seemed reluctant to go along, she was even more unwilling to create a scene. She submitted to Dandridge's enthusiasm.

“What was that about, friend Jaime? I would not have expected your lady to be so ... domestic.”

“She might surprise you. But you're right, she usually isn't,” Wolf said. “She's near as devious as I am, though. We thought this might be an opportunity to improve your lady's opinion of us, so Marisha's taking advantage of it. Besides, she knew I wanted to talk to you alone for awhile.”

Minobu tilted his head in question. In reply, Wolf led him around the table to the wall and pressed a panel in the decorative design. A doorway opened, and the two men walked into a small office. Wolf directed Minobu to take a seat, pulled up a chair next to him, and sat down. Both men faced the room's window, through which they could see two of An Ting's lesser moons moving in stately procession across the stars.

As usual, Wolf came directly to the business at hand. “What can you tell me about Warlord Samsonov?” he asked. In the early days of their relationship, this abruptness had disconcerted Minobu because it was at odds with the typical Combine practice of approaching a subject obliquely. Draconians went through a series of irrelevant preliminaries intended to measure the mood and temper of the participants. Only close acquaintances and old cronies could dispense with these introductory formalities. Over the months of working with the Dragoons, Minobu had learned that they were all precipitous in this fashion, but he had finally gotten used to it.

“Why the sudden interest?” Minobu asked. “That's one of the things I'd like to know,” Wolf said. “We've been in his District for more than a year, but only now has the Warlord decided that it's time we have a talk. He's coming to An Ting for a meeting, and I thought you might be able to give me an idea of what to expect.”

Wolf waited while Minobu marshaled his thoughts. Minobu had only met Warlord Samsonov twice, but he had no trouble conjuring an image of the tall, vigorous, gray-haired Warlord who was always so careful of his appearance. Wolf was not inquiring about appearances, of course, but wanted to know what manner of man was Samsonov.

“I have had a few dealings with him in regard to the operations of the Dragoons,” Minobu began. “General Samsonov is an interesting man. In honor of our friendship and knowing that you will keep what I say in confidence, I will speak frankly.

“His appearance is distinguished, in all ways that of a proper general. He always speaks with respect for the Coordinator and presents himself as a loyal son of the Dragon. He has an admirable military record and has been awarded the Order of the Dragon in recognition of the territorial gains he has made for the Combine.

“Yet something in his manner seems out of place. I fear he may harbor personal ambitions beyond those proper for a samurai of House Kurita.”

Wolf perked up at that. Minobu, noticing the interest, tried to explain.

“His treatment of his inferiors is less than respectful. One wonders if a man who does not treat his inferiors with respect can properly respect his superiors. A man who does not respect his superiors may seek to replace them.

“Of course, all men harbor ambition of some sort, and so it may be that the General is not so unusual after all. What is important is that a man does his duty, and in this, General Samsonov is hard to fault. He cares well for his office, and so Galedon District prospers. The units under his command are well-supplied and maintained, though I have heard it said that he uses unusual methods to achieve those ends. Such comments are surely only rumors, and who knows but that they may be due more to the envy of his rivals than to the facts.

“As you know, he holds the title of Warlord of Galedon. As a Warlord, he stands high in the power structure of the Draconis Combine, with almost total command over the District. Warlord Samsonov is also an honored councilor to the Coordinator. He is overlord, in Lord Kurita's name, of more than sixty star systems and guardian of almost half our border with the Federated Suns.

“He is a most powerful man. As a friend, helpful. But as an enemy, most dangerous,” Minobu concluded.

Wolf sat silently for a moment.

“I appreciate your honesty, Minobu. You've given me a bit to think about,” he said, then slipped again into silence.

Minobu let him think for a while, using the opportunity to ponder for himself the reason for Samsonov's visit. Something was up. But what? Minobu did not have enough information to reason out an answer.

He looked at Wolf out of the corner of his eye. In the past months, they had grown to trust one another, each respecting the other's strengths. Minobu had given little thought to Jaime's private life. Certainly, Wolf never mentioned it. Tonight, Minobu had met someone who was obviously important in Wolf's life. Once again, the secretiveness of the Dragoons ... Once again, Minobu was reminded of just how little he knew about this man he trusted so well.

“Marisha Dandridge seems a fine woman, friend Jaime,” he commented into the silence.

Wolf seemed a little startled by the change of subject. His recovery, as always, was quick. “A man could not ask for better.”

“Yet, in all these months you have spoken little of her. For that matter, you have not spoken of family at all.”

“No, I haven't. We Dragoons try to keep family separate from business. But sometimes the business won't let us,” Wolf said bitterly.

“Ah, the New Delos incident. That was an honorless deed. It was your brother that Anton Marik had killed, was it not?” Minobu knew his comment might open an old wound, but Wolf seemed to be signaling a willingness to talk.

“That's the public version.” The bitterness had fled as quickly as it had come, to be replaced with, regret in Wolf's soft voice. Several moments passed before he continued.

“Anton Marik tried to take control of the regiments. He tried to force us to his will by making hostages of our families on New Delos. We brave warriors wouldn't bend to his will,” Wolf said, sarcasm lacing the words. “We stood up to him.

“It wasn't just my brother who died there. My wife and our two youngest children were with the civilians Marik slaughtered.”

That was not what Minobu had expected. A brother lost in the tumble of political maneuvering was one thing. Joshua Wolf had been a soldier, and soldiers expected death in the political and military turmoil of the Successor States. Wanton murder of family members was something else. Even the Dragoons' storming of the New Delos Palace and killing Anton Marik might not be enough to lay innocent ghosts to rest. “My friend, I had not meant to stir such memories.”

“It's all right.” Wolf gave Minobu a faint smile of forgiveness. “That was ten years ago. I can talk about it now. Marisha has been a blessing in that regard. She has gotten me through the worst and taught me to face the future again. But, by all the gods of space,” Wolf continued, voice turning to steel, “I won't let anything like it happen again.”

Silence fell once more. Each man looked out on the stars, lost in his thoughts. To end the awkward pause, Minobu assayed, “You implied you had other children.”

“That's right.” Wolf's voice was far away, but the harshness was gone. “You never miss a trick, do you, Minobu?” Minobu inclined his head humbly. “I have a son. He's in Beta Regiment.”

“Beta? There is no Wolf on the regiment's muster.”

“That's right, too. He fights under another name. And no, not even you, my friend, will get that name out of me.” Wolf chuckled, much to Minobu's relief. “There would be no fair treatment if he were known as mine.”

“Shall he miss out on his heritage then?”

“No. He will come into it when he has learned to stand on his own feet. There are no free rides in the Dragoons. Nepotism only works when the favored can earn their own way. If he deserves my place, he'll have it.

“But right now, my place is host to this party. Let's go back and join it. Eat, drink, and be merry, eh?” Wolf laughed in an attempt at good cheer, but Minobu thought it forced. Not all the shadows had fled, despite Wolf's brave speech.