“Damn the luck,” the duke admitted, “or he would be arrested. Or worse.”

“That was uncalled for.” Jasek clenched both hands around the high back of a nearby chair. “Nicco was like a second son to you.”

His father levered himself to his feet. “And just as loyal, it turned out,” he said hotly. “Maybe if I’d stripped him of favor as a pup, you’d have done better being raised an only child.” He calmed himself with visible effort. “But now my prodigal son has returned, eh? Well, I’m not about to kill the fatted calf for you, boy.”

Jasek nodded curtly, not having expected such a welcome from his father. The two of them simply could not agree to disagree, and too much tied them together, making a clean break just as impossible. Blood ties. And their mutual concern for the worlds of Skye.

“Not asking it,” he replied.

“But you’re going to ask me for something,” his father said, dialing back on the open antagonism a few notches. He nodded at the table full of documents and glowing noteputer pads. “Four days you’ve been working in here. You must have some idea of what you want, and how you’ll proceed.”

Jasek pulled out the chair he gripped, only two seats down from his father, and slipped into it. A tall pile of hard-copy documents rested on the table in front of him. “Skye is wounded,” he said, toying with the pile. Slick-panel folders slid haphazardly against each other. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that. I know Tara… Countess Campbell… has kept you informed. But I wonder if you understand how close you are to losing this world.”

“I’m sure you’ll remind me every day,” his father said through clenched teeth.

Jasek let a touch of his ire show in his eyes. “One good push,” he said, shoving at the top of the document stack. The pile tipped and slid apart, scattering files and documents over the polished wood surface.

The demonstration seemed to rattle the duke more than hard words would have. He sat down again. “Think you could take my world with these Stormhammers of yours?”

“Yes.” Jasek didn’t bother to deny that his people had looked at that. “We could. But it would not solve the greater problem. We could take Skye, but never hold it. Not against the Jade Falcons.”

“Fortunate for me that my entire realm is under assault, then.”

“It allowed you to accept help from the Steel Wolves,” Jasek reminded him. “Surely you can extend the same courtesy to my people.”

The duke bit off the first reply that formed on his lips. He thought a moment, putting a bit of steel back into his shoulders as he squared them off against his son. “What do you have in mind?” he asked finally. Quietly. A man backed against a wall, staring down a loaded gun.

Jasek’s finger was on the trigger. He folded his hands on the table in front of him, to keep their tremble from showing.

“Tara Campbell allowed that she’d take help from Anastasia Kerensky. With her offer in hand, I hope to bring them back to Skye. Them”—he swallowed dryly—“and any other allies I can rally to our defense.”

His father slapped at the table, the bang reverberating around the large, empty room. It ricocheted back from the open mezzanine with a tinny echo. “You’re talking about House Steiner!” he accused Jasek. “Isn’t one enemy at a time enough?”

“The Lyran Commonwealth is not massing on our borders. They did not send in a large military force on some fabricated excuse. But they just might offer us some help if it meant protecting their own interests as well.”

“Once they come back, we’ll never dislodge them.” Duke Gregory shook his head, denying the vision. “I’d rather see Skye burning around my ears.”

Jasek recoiled. “Truly?” he asked. He waited for his father to bluster that he hadn’t meant his words literally, but the lord governor remained silent. Always a good political move.

“Well, you just might get that wish before this is all said and done,” Jasek said. He slid back his chair and rose, leaning over the corner of the table. “And that is an image I want you to hold very, very close to your heart, Father. You have a good champion for Skye in Tara Campbell. I know you have your own plans in motion as well. You always do. But before you make a final decision, I want you to think on one idea.

“That if it comes down to a choice between the Steiner fist and the Jade Falcon raptor,” he asked, “which would you rather live under?”

13

New London

Skye

9 October 3134

Following Niccolò GioAvanti down the corridor and around a corner from the closed door and the two security agents, Alexia Wolf quickly and quietly padded up a set of wide green marble stairs only a few steps behind him. The intense young merchant shot her a measuring stare, which she returned with interest. But he said nothing, which suited her as well.

She had no idea what he was up to. Only that she felt certain he would not take to being shut out of the father-and-son discussion. In the short time she had known him, Niccolò had proved himself resourceful, spirited, and utterly devoted to Jasek.

One of Jasek’s greatest draws, in fact, was the quality of men and women he kept around him, and his means of doing so. It was the first measure of a leader’s intelligence and strength, to see what kind of advisers he kept. Jasek Kelswa-Steiner did not suffer fools or sycophants. He searched out strong-willed people who challenged him.

Meritocracy might be an Inner Sphere term, but it was a concept that all Clan warriors understood.

“…the devil’s own charm…”

The snatch of conversation whispered to her at the head of the stairs. She turned her head, searching for more, but if it had been there at all, it was lost now.

Niccolò stealthed ahead of her, down the narrow third-floor corridor, without any reaction whatsoever. Alexia followed, thinking rapidly on what she thought she’d heard. It could have been Jasek’s father. Certainly it described Jasek. One glance was enough to cause her heart to pound in her throat and set her skin tingling with anticipation. The duke’s son had a raw, powerful magnetism that attracted men and women equally. She recognized this, though that did nothing to prevent her being affected by it. She at least did not confuse it with the self-serving righteousness many of Jasek’s soldiers wore like a protective mantle.

Or love, which was also an Inner Sphere term but a concept not wholly unknown among the Clans.

More snippets of conversation whispered in her ear as she chased after GioAvanti. “…Stone’s philosophies…” and then “…our people…”

“…about my own wife now?”

She was certain this time. Something about the library’s acoustics formed an echo chamber, dumping tidbits of the conversation taking place below into this deserted upstairs corridor.

Alexia guessed where Niccolò was leading her even before they passed through a small sculpture gallery and then stepped to either side of a door that opened onto the mezzanine level above the Commonwealth Room. A wide parapet ran around three sides with shelves of books guarding the walls and a balcony rail overlooking the center of the room. The warm scent of so many leather-bound volumes was stronger up here. She tasted paper on the back of her tongue. Staying close to the wall, they were invisible to the lower level, but they had a perfect vantage point for eavesdropping.

Niccolò slouched against a shelf of books.

Alexia adopted a modified parade rest.

The two stared at each other across the open doorway. It became a kind of game, to see who could react the least to what was being said below. She caught a glimpse of amusement on his pinched face when Duke Gregory admitted that he could not touch Niccolò because of his family ties. Alexia thought he should have been more concerned that Jasek’s father saw the merchant as an obstacle to overcome.