Текст книги "Bloodname"

Автор книги: Роберт Торстон

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

20

Trudging on foot across the battlefield, Aidan had to dodge Clan Wolf warriors, 'Mech pilots who had ejected from their machines and now staggered about clumsily, looks of disbelief on their faces. He would not have minded a few skirmishes with these warriors, just for the exercise, but the battle was over and the Jade Falcons had won. Aidan saw no point in dying aftera battle, when some other time a warrior could die inone. Still, the frustrated Clan Wolf warriors were angry enough to engage in useless combat, and so Aidan stayed out of their way.

One of his boots had split open during the battle with the Elemental, and he had cast it away. The ground beneath his bare foot was hot, making him step gingerly. The burning hot steps, alternating with the booted ones, were clumsy, so he cast off the good boot in order to walk more rapidly. The ground heat urged him forward and definitely helped him to pick up his pace.

* * *

He found Lanja trapped beneath a large piece of armor that must have fallen with the 'Mech beside which she lay. He would not even have noticed her except that his burning feet had forced him to stop and sit on a jutting sliver of the fallen 'Mech. The place where he sat was quite warm, but at least it was a new area of his body that was getting singed.

He did not notice Lanja until she groaned. It was an abrupt sound, more an expression of frustration than pain. At first all he saw was the twisted armor of her battle suit sticking out from under the metal fragment. Walking around it, he saw Lanja lying in the shattered hallmark of her trade.

"Are you all right, Star Commander Lanja?"

"No. You can tell that easily, quiaff?"

"Well, aff. But I thought it was polite to ask."

"A freebirth who is polite. What a novelty. What has happened in the battle?"

"It is over." Aidan told her what he knew about it, including his own crushing of the command dome.

"So your plan was a success," she said. "And your dark band. It is ripped."

He looked down. "So it is. I had a bit of a skirmish back there. Happened then."

"You are a good warrior, Jorge."

"It must cost you a great deal to say that. I have always known you despise,us, quiaff?"

"Freebirths? I have always hated freebirths. I hate you now. But you are a brave warrior."

"I am about to complicate your hatred even more."

"Oh? How?"

"I am going to carry you to the med dome, Star Commander Lanja." Ignoring her look of disgust, he summoned up nearly all his remaining strength, lifted the metal piece, and then pushed it off Lanja. When it was safely aside, he looked down at her. Seeing her body, twisted as it was, crushed in the upper legs, even his emotionless Clan demeanor gave way. Lanja undoubtedly saw the slight flinch in his eyes.

"Can you move?"

"I feel very little sensation, but I will try." Her arms responded naturally and she was able to lift her neck.

"Your back seems to be all right, and your upper body. We will have to get you out of here."

"We?"

"Figure of speech. We freeborns do n—don't speak just right, you know that?"

Working quickly, Aidan fashioned some pieces of shrapnel and wire from various exposed places in the fallen 'Mech into a kind of metal cot, a device called a traverse that he must have read about. Ripping out some electrical cable, he made a usable handle with which to pull the flat metal construction.

The hardest part was extracting Lanja from the remnants of her battle suit and onto the makeshift traverse. She was covered with the black goo that the suit's medical system expelled to stabilize injured Elementals. The goo, combined with Lanja's massive frame, made it difficult to maneuver her onto the traverse. Using more electrical cord, he fastened her body firmly onto the construction. When he was sure that she would not slide around unnecessarily and harmfully, he grabbed the cord handle and began to pull.

Almost immediately he realized that he could not progress quickly. The weight of the traverse, so much greater than any real medical conveyance, plus the care needed to keep the ride smooth over some fairly rocky ground, forced him to move slowly. Each step he took seemed to burn his feet even more.

It was not long, however, before the ground cooled as he drew away from the battle site. Then he was spotted by some Jade Falcon Elementals, who rushed up to take over transport of the traverse. Weary and exhausted, Aidan was grateful for the strength of these towering, sinewy warriors.

Aidan barely felt his last steps into the Jade Falcon encampment. He stumbled into the center of camp, then fell unconscious at the entrance to the command center. Kael Pershaw was there. He had watched Aidan's progress the whole way, ordering his subordinates not to give the exhausted warrior any help.

* * *

Pershaw was feeling extraordinarily good at that moment. He had just signed off from Dwillt Radick's surrender acknowledgment.

"I am to be your bondsman then," Radick said.

Pershaw chuckled to himself before responding, "There will be no need for that. Your defeat came at the hands of a freebirth. I cannot have such a humiliated warrior as my bondsman. You may return with your Cluster to your home world."

"Kael Pershaw, you musttake me as bondsman. It is Clan law."

"No, not law. Only custom. I reject the custom. If you were my bondsman, I would remember your shameful history every time I saw your face. To lose a battle because of the actions of freebirths. I could not bear that. If you must have the custom, I take you as bondsman and immediately free you. May you come to understand Kerensky's blessing, Star Captain Dwillt Radick."

He could sense Radick fuming at the other end, but the Wolf Clansman could do nothing. It was not mere custom, but Clan law, that gave Pershaw the right to dictate all terms. Pershaw thought the defeat, against odds and with so much freebirth help, was humiliating enough. Why subject Dwillt Radick to any more? He would carry this shame with him long enough, perhaps for the rest of his life.

Then a messenger came to him with the news. Lanja was alive but injured, and the hero of the battle had returned, having dragged Lanja across nearly a third of the battlefield.

As Jorge staggered toward him, Pershaw could not repress the disgust he felt for this man's freebirth origins.

* * *

When Aidan woke up later, lying on a cot in Pershaw's office back inside Glory Station, Pershaw was sitting beside him, idly fingering the severely ripped dark band.

"Bast's picture is gone," Pershaw said laconically.

"Must have dropped off. I am sorry. I am not supposed to speak without permission."

"Under the circumstances, we can ignore that rule. We can, in fact, ignore the dark band."

With a pull that sent pain down Aidan's back, Kael Pershaw ripped the dark band off.

"Now you can speak as you always have, disrespectfully and rudely. Consider it your reward for winning the battle. Quite the opposite of the dark band. For now, do not even discuss this with me. I despise the fact that you must be honored now, and I will hate every moment of my participation in honoring you. But your act, especially for its capable improvisation, is deserving of the medal we are forced to award you."

"Do not award me anything. I am Clan. What we must do, we do."

Pershaw laughed abruptly. It was a chilling sound. Aidan wondered if anyone on Glory Station had ever heard Pershaw laugh. It was not real laughter, of course, but more the delighted growl of a creature about to pounce, the happy scream of the jade falcon before it seized its prey on the mountainside. It was the laugh of nightmare monsters.

"You are such a fraud, Jorge. I could almost like you. 'What we must do, we do.' Spoken like a true-born, Jorge, but filth in the mouth of a freebirth."

Pershaw stood up and walked to the window behind his desk. Aidan tried to sit up, but the immediate dizziness forced him to lie back.

Standing with his back to Aidan, Pershaw spoke without turning around. "I have just delivered the vilest humiliation to the leader of the Clan Wolf warriors. I could hear his hatred in his voice. And despite my satisfaction at winning, I suffered my own humiliation. I am grateful that my gene heritage did not go to the Clan Wolf vaults, and I have you to thank for that, Jorge. It was your plan and your subsequent deeds that protected my Bloodright. But this victory will, in all our codexes, always be tainted. We trueborns should not have to thank a freebirth for our victories, and I will forever be conscious of the shame."

Aidan could find nothing to say. He had no wish to be arrogant, no need to exacerbate the shame.

"How is Lanja?" Aidan asked.

"She died," Kael Pershaw said quietly.

"I am sorry."

"Yes. Your courage in dragging her to camp has proven to be fruitless."

"That is not what I am sorry about."

"I do not know what you mean, but I order you not to tell me. When you are well enough to go, you are dismissed."

Pershaw walked out of the room. His strides were long, longer than usual, as if he needed to hurry away.

Aidan closed his eyes. In his mind's eye, he saw his Summonerfall onto the command dome, this time with him in it. That might have given him some feeling of victory. Nothing Kael Pershaw had said could provide it.

As his eyes came open suddenly, he wondered how much longer he could bear the trueborn's continual scorn.

* * *

Dwillt Radick raged at his subordinate, Craig Ward.

"If you had seen his objective, perhaps you would have taken care to shoot better, hit the freebirth's 'Mech at an angle to force its fall in another direction."

"It was not possible. I was attempting to protect the dome. He unexpectedly bent his 'Mech over the dome before I had a chance to divert fire. He was deliberately drawing the fire in. He—"

"I know all that! I have studied the tapes. You failed, Craig Ward!"

The accusation was too much, the charge that set off the explosion.

"Perhaps I did misjudge! We all do in the heat of battle. Even you."

"Not to that degree, Star Commander."

"Then let me ask you this, Dwillt Radick. What misconception of strategy led you to establish a permanent command center instead of accepting the responsibility of directing the battle from your cockpit in-"

"I could charge you for that."

"Take it to a Circle of Equals."

"Perhaps I will. When we return." Radick took a deep breath. This Craig Ward, he felt, would plague him for years to come. "Establishing a permanent communications center is more efficient than directing from a command 'Mech. The techs can follow every phase of the battle as the leader directs while fighting off the enemy."

"And leaders have done so for centuries. You cannot give over the battle to techs. You must—"

"I set up the battle like a soldier, like the great military experts of former times, using all the facets of strategy, tactics, and logistics."

For a moment Craig Ward remembered his place. "With all due respect, sir, perhaps thinking like a soldier is inferior to thinking like a commander."

"As you did? Blundering into an engagement where you had the clear advantage, but then losing it? Was that action from the mind of a commander?"

Craig Ward saw, from the way Dwillt Radick shook with fury, that he had overstepped his bounds. Quickly he invoked all the cautious subordinate rituals that slowly defused Radick and brought the two of them back to their normal, uneasy peace.

21

Kael Pershaw's glare was more piercing than a xenon searchlight. Any other recipient of that gaze would have reconsidered the action that drew it. But Aidan was not just any other. He thrived on glares. Especially from Kael Pershaw.

"I knew you were freebirth, Jorge, and I knew you were arrogant and stupid, but I did not think you would interrupt a sacred ritual with a foolish and insulting gesture. If not for the valor of your recent performance, I would consider shooting you on the spot."

"If you do not accept my case, then I promise to meet you in the Circle of Equals to prove it."

Resplendent in their ceremonial dress, the gathered Jade Falcon warriors muttered among themselves, an ominous sound. Some of them would gladly join with Kael Pershaw to kill this upstart freebirth who had so airily insulted one of their most cherished rites.

"What manner of case could you have, freebirth?" Kael Pershaw shouted, his voice still in the timbre of the ceremony Aidan had interrupted. "Freebirths may not compete for a Bloodname!"

"That is true. As a freeborn warrior, I would have no right to make the claim, and you would be justified in shooting me immediately."

"It seems you have just called for your own death, quiaff?"

"On the contrary. I said if Iwere a freeborn. You see, Star Colonel Pershaw, I am not freeborn. My birth is just as true as yours, and that of every trueborn here."

The murmur of the assembled warriors grew louder, as did its angry tone. Never in memory had a single warrior crammed so many insults into so few words. How dare this freebirth claim to be trueborn?

Kael Pershaw raised his hand to silence the warriors. He was certain now that something had affected Jorge's brain. Perhaps the battle had jarred some synapse, or perhaps the man's own inferior genetic strain had stirred up some chemical imbalance that had finally pushed him over the edge. Pershaw nodded toward his Personal Guard to come nearer so that they would be ready to pounce on Jorge if he started to run amok.

"I will disallow what you have said thus far if you will sit down and be silent, Star Commander Jorge. Your recent valor may have earned you a fraction of leeway, but it is now used up. Understand this: You may not compete for a Bloodname and may not put forth a claim."

"You have not been listening. I may make a claim. I am canister-born and sibko-bred, from the Mattlov-Pryde genetic line. My name is not Jorge; it is Aidan. Clan law permits me to compete for the Bloodname of Pryde, which was that of my genemother Tanya Pryde. She is a former Galaxy Commander whose exploits are well-documented in Jade Falcon annals."

Aidan's neck tingled, and he wondered if it was a reaction to the combined rage of the warriors gathered around him, most of whom looked as though they could kill him immediately.

That was not going to stop him, though. Without a pause Aidan began the story of his life on Ironhold, as cadet, as failed Trial participant, as successful freeborn qualifier.

* * *

Joanna was beside herself. The fool! Ter Roshak had warned him never to reveal his trueborn origins. Roshak had promised to kill Aidan if he ever confessed that Roshak had manipulated events to give Aidan a second chance at becoming a warrior. What stupidity could have made him claim the right to a Trial of Bloodright now?

Even as the thought crossed her mind, Joanna knew the answer to the question. How often did a warrior get a chance to earn a Bloodname? She knew from her own experience how few and far between were the opportunities. Aidan had probably been planning to make this claim for some time. Overall, the Blood-name of Pryde was a mixed one, with some good lines and some mediocre. This particular line, however, one of the twenty-five that had come down through the generations from its original holder, Aeneas Pryde, had been claimed two generations ago by a Jade Falcon hero named Teukros Pryde, and until recently by Ileana Pryde. It was a particularly noble and intrepid line, one for which only the best warriors could compete. In his announcement of the new Trial of Blood-right, Kael Pershaw had cited Ileana Pryde for her courage in backing her BattleMech against a high cliff wall and fighting off a succession of Snow Raven Clan 'Mechs in a fierce battle for territory on the planet York. Ileana had met her own death in that battle, he said, and thus did the Bloodname become available.

Her predecessor as nameholder, Teukros Pryde, had accomplished a list of achievements that was the envy of any warrior. Teukros Pryde had, in fact, killed many times to earn that reputation. And this Aidan, a true-born who had failed his Trial of Position because of an arrogant attempt to attack his three opponents simultaneously, who had to pose as a freebirth in order to become a warrior at all—what right had he to take his own tainted name into a struggle for such a proud Bloodname? Even in the unlikely event he won the name, his previous history would tarnish it even before he could ever serve it as warrior.

Listening to Aidan recite his history amid the incredulous expressions of his listeners, Joanna contained a rage that might have wiped out half the Jade Falcons assembled if she were to loose it. She knew she was far from the ideal of a Clan warrior. Though she had striven to be one all her life, her fierce animosities had too often consumed her when she should have been honing her skills instead. It was not just a matter of distaste for everyone she met. Had it been only that, her career as a warrior might have gone forward with more certainty. But, no, she hated everyone. Oh, she had experienced a few temporary alliances back in sibko days, but when those companions had flushed out of training, she had despised them for their inferiority. It was true that she had felt some respect for perhaps three commanding officers, but each had inevitably fallen in her esteem, whether because he did not fight hard enough, complain loud enough, or kill skillfully enough. She hated Nomad, too, but that at least was a cheerful hatred, one she rather enjoyed. Indeed, they would be back to exchange barbs as soon as he was well again.

There was probably no one in Clan Jade Falcon who hated as fiercely as Joanna did, nor any who hated as well.

Yet she knew that with a more balanced view of life, she might have won a Bloodname. She vividly remembered a recent attempt, when she had been one of the final contenders. In previous attempts, she had failed the Trial of Bloodright earlier, That was either her shame or an indication she was being saved for some later Bloodname prize. She could always hope for the latter. But at twenty-eight her time was running out. In the Clans, old warriors did not win Bloodnames, but usually ended up as volunteer cannon fodder in some battle diversion.

As she studied Aidan's calm in claiming the Pryde bloodline, she hated him more than ever. During the training years on Ironhold, she had sometimes believed that, of all that sibko, Aidan was her personal curse. Subsequent events had done little to change her thinking. If it were not contrary to the way of the Clans, she would have run up to him this very moment, her knife drawn to slit his worthless throat.

Kael Pershaw was rarely, if ever, at a loss for words, but right now he had not a clue what might come out of his mouth when, according to ritual, this Jorge/Aidan reached the end of his claim. He regretted not having Lanja near to send him the kind of signs and signals that had so often helped him render judgment. It was the first time Pershaw had thought of her since announcing her death to this piece of decaying matter speaking before him. He would not recall her again for some time.

Finally Aidan's speech came to an end.

"And that is the word of a trueborn warrior of the Jade Falcon Clan, direct, blunt, and true in every detail. My case is just. I would leave this duty to compete for the Aeneas Pryde Bloodname."

Aidan looked around at the others, as though they might suddenly affirm his claim by solemnly uttering, "Seyla," the ritual response of affirmation. No one spoke.

"What is your judgment, Star Colonel Kael Pershaw?" asked Star Captain Shan Zeke, who was performing the role of Loremaster. He looked as astonished as every other person in the gathering, except for Aidan and Joanna.

Kael Pershaw scrutinized the assembly, then shouted: "I cannot make a proper judgment unless someone steps forward to endorse the claim of this ... of this warrior."

When Horse immediately came forward, he looked every centimeter the freeborn he was. At least with him the warriors gathered here knew there would be no controversy about birth origin.

"I know this to be true, Star Colonel," Horse said. "I trained with Star Commander Aidan after he was transferred to my unit. I recognized him as a trueborn because I'd faced him in an earlier training exercise."

Horse went on to tell the story in detail. Certain warriors flinched when Horse mentioned how he, a mere freeborn, had nearly beaten Cadet Aidan by planting a satchel charge on the back of a 'Mech shell the other was using in the exercise.

"MechWarrior Horse, is your memory so sharp that you could be sure this Jorge was the cadet you fought in that training exercise?"

"Yes. And when I confronted him, he admitted his identity to me."

Kael Pershaw slowly shook his head. "No, MechWarrior Horse, that is not enough. It verifies only that one apparent freebirth by name of Jorge transferred into your unit after an unfortunate accident on a training field. That he was the Cadet Aidan you battled earlier is not proven. Further, your evidence does not verify any other points of Star Commander Jorge's story. Step back, MechWarrior Horse."

Horse looked as though he wished to say more, but then he shrugged, performed a ritual salute to Pershaw, and walked away. Many of the warriors growled and sneered as he passed, making no secret of their disapproval that he had come forward at all. In response, Horse twisted his mouth into an obvious expression of defiance.

"Does any other member of this assembly verify the rightful claim of this warrior?" Kael Pershaw asked.

The silence hung heavy, as though not a single warrior moved or breathed. When Pershaw let his gaze sweep the throng, the rustle of his cape, the clank of his adornments echoed all the way to the rear of the crowd.

The next sound was the shuffle of feet as Aidan turned to face the Glorry Stateion warriors.

"Yes," a voice said finally, "I can verify this man's true identity." Roughly pushing several subordinate warriors aside, Joanna reluctantly made her way forward.