"You'd survive. You know enough."

"Physically, yes, perhaps." She shocked him by leaning forward and lightly brushing his lips with hers. "Inside, I'd die without you."

22

Diosd

Wolf Clan Occupation Zone

2 April 3052

 

Phelan smiled to see the ilKhan had chosen to preside over the Trial of Bloodright being held in the Grand Hall of what had once been the Third Rasalhague Freeman's base. Various members of the Wolf Clan stood at the far end of the hall, but Phelan recognized none of them. He knew most of the Thirteenth Wolf Guards were resting up from the previous two days of fighting, and Phelan would have liked to be doing the same.

The ilKhan waited until an Elemental brought in one of the gravity-well devices, then he started the ceremony. "I jam the Oathmaster and accept responsibility for representing House Ward here. Do you concur in this?"

"Seyla," said both Phelan and his opponent.

"Then what transpires here will bind us all until we all shall fall." Ulric, who looked a bit weary himself, nodded approval. "As this is your third battle, you know well the honor for which you fight. You, Phelan Wolf, have seen twenty years. Why are you worthy?"

"I was chosen by Cyrilla Ward to be heir to this Blood-name. 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 killing of the Third Freeman's Command Lance. Prior to the battle today, I defeated an Elemental, Dean, and a flyer, Glynis, for the right to participate here."

"And you, Lajos, have seen twenty-eight years. Why are you worthy?"

Phelan's opponent in the Bloodright contest began to recite his accomplishments. A MechWarrior, like Phelan, he moved stiffly on the left side of his body. White gauze totally covered his left arm and hand, making it look as if he were wearing a mitten. The flesh around his left eye was badly burned and glistened with clear unguents.

He should be in a hospital, not getting ready to fight,Phelan thought as Lajos finished his recitation.

The ilKhan clasped his hands together solemnly. "The heroism and courage displayed by both of you have been established and verified. Your claims are not without substance. No matter what fate you meet in this battle, the brightness of your light will not be diminished." Ulric waved both men forward. "Present the tokens of your legitimate right to participate here."

Phelan held his coin up to the ilKhan. Ulric took it, then crouched to pluck Lajos' coin from his left hand. He placed both coins in their respective slots. "The horrible chaos of war is reflected in this Trial of Bloodright. When one coin has successfully stalked the other and they complete their transit through this cone, the hunting coin will be superior. That Warrior is given the choice of style for the fight. The owner of the inferior coin then decides the venue for the fight. In this way, each will fight on a battlefield not wholly of his choosing. Do you understand this?"

"Seyla."

As the ilKhan sent the coins on their spiral courses down through the gravity well, Phelan looked at Lajos. If I were him, I would choose to fight augmented. Burned that badly, fighting from a 'Mech is the only way he can defeat me. Hell, he can barely stand up now. I would slaughter him in a fistfight.He looked up and watched the coins sink below the lip of the funnel. No matter how battered Lajos looked, Phelan knew the man was here because of his prowess as a Warrior and deserved respect for that.

The two coins clattered down into the decision post. The ilKhan slid the clear pipe from the center of the post and held it up. He freed the top coin from its transparent prison, then read the name on it. "Phelan, you are the hunter."

Phelan saw Lajos wince as the decision was announced. He knows he does not stand a chance. It's over before it begins.

"Phelan, how do you choose to fight?" The MechWarrior gave the ilKhan a grim smile. "Augmented, my Khan."

Phelan worked his right arm around in a circle and heard the joint pop as it loosened up. "You would think they would let us rest before sending us out for this Bloodname fight, quiaff?"

The other MechWarrior in the elevator nodded. "You came out of the fighting a bit better than I did, I think. You Wolf Guards are an odd lot, but you fight well."

Phelan leaned back and hooked his thumbs through his gunbelt. "You are with the Eighth Dragoons, quiaff?You were fighting over at the oil refinery in the Oljen Valley. Are you the Lajos who took his Adderinto the refinery to torch it and drive the militia out?"

The dark-haired man carefully raised his gauze-swathed left arm and pointed to the left side of his face. "Might have reconsidered if I had known the breach in my cockpit canopy and neurohelmet would leave me open to a toasting."

Phelan noted Lajos wore long pants, and could easily imagine gauze covering his leg from top to bottom. "You do look a bit raw there. I hate burns."

"No one likes burns, Phelan." Lajos smiled sheepishly. "When your coin came out on top, I assumed you would opt to fight unaugmented. That you chose a 'Mech allows me to acquit myself admirably. My thanks."

Phelan nodded as the elevator came to a halt on the 'Mech-bay level of the captured Rasalhague facility. Before the door opened, the ilKhan's voice crackled over the speaker built into the ceiling. "Lajos and Phelan, this is your third Bloodright contest. You both have progressed to a point that other Warriors only dream about. Take pride in this. When these doors open, the battle will be joined. To the victor goes great glory, and to the subdued great honor."

"Seyla," the two Warriors breathed as one.

The doors slowly opened, giving both men a breathtaking view of the 'Mech bay. Rank upon rank of battle-scarred war machines stood like some terrifying legion waiting to be magically activated. Though Phelan had been witness to such scenes on a dozen different worlds, the silent assemblage of so many devastating machines never failed to impress him.

On the right stood Lajos' Adder.New armor plating stood out in patchy relief against the fire-blackened hull of the short, squat BattleMech. From the configuration Lajos had chosen, Phelan knew the 'Mech was armed exclusively with a dozen extended-range medium lasers. The weapons were mounted on the 'Mech's arms, but given Lajos' injuries, only half of them would be useful. Likewise, his leg injury would make using the Adder'sjump jets nearly suicidal.

Opposite the Adderstood Phelan's Wolfhound.The tall, sleek BattleMech looked less like a war machine than the avatar of some war god. Black by design, except where the red of the unit designators marked its shoulders, the Mech's lupine cockpit assembly gave it an animation the Adderlacked. The Wolfhound'sweaponry amounted to only a third of the lasers on Lajos' 'Mech, but the Wolfhound'sspeed and agility and its built-in electronic counter-measures equipment made it an even opponent for the larger 'Mech.

"Skill, Phelan."

Phelan stepped from the elevator. "And you, Lajos."

Lajos never saw Phelan's left hand as he exited the elevator. The roundhouse left caught Lajos by surprise when it crashed into the unburned part of his face. The punch snapped his head around and dropped him to the hangar's ferrocrete floor.