After Bret had cleared the fire, Joanna lined them up and gestured toward the path they had just taken. "On the other side of the flames is your old life, the life of the child, the mistakes and the foolishness, successes and failures ... the members of your sibko who have not reached this point. On the other side are the useless fantasies and unClanlike ambitions. Your life is no longer your own. It is ours. We are all connected in a vast network. Your 'Mech cannot move without you, just as you are guided by your superiors. We all are controlled by the rules of our individual Clan, and the Clans must work together for our common goal, the restoration of the Star League. Complex as these links are, each is crucial to the others. When one is broken, others along its line are weakened. If you fail in a battle, others may be killed. If you bid ineffectively, you may be taking away the futures of others. If you show traits that are weak or even evil, others may copy them, transmitting the weakness or evil in rays throughout your part of the network. So you are more than an individual, you are many individuals with each act you perform, each word you say, each gesture you make. You must think of this with each act, word, and gesture. If you are a Clan warrior, you are not like the effete warriors of the Inner Sphere, with their showy displays of empty valor. You are strategist when you bid, tactician when you fight, warrior in winning battles, hero when you return with your unit intact. Cadets, you are on the verge of becoming Clan warriors. Think on what I have told you."

Joanna had barked out this speech in the same manner she gave orders during training. Now her voice lowered and she spoke quietly and precisely: "It is time for the trial by sword."

The cadets exchanged puzzled glances. None of them had ever heard of anything called a trial by sword.

Joanna clapped her hands and an orderly brought forth four swords on a dark blue cloth. She lay them at Joanna's feet. Joanna clapped her hands again and the four falconers joined her by the fire. Their faces were grim as each picked up a sword and took up a position in a semi- circle. Each crouched and held his or her sword in a battle position, pointing outward.

"In a battle, trust is important. If we, as Clan warriors, do not trust the others above and under us, then he must fail. Cadets, each of you must now face one of these swordsmen."

Still mystified, the four cadets arranged themselves so that each faced a different swordsman. Joanna walked to a point directly in back on the sword-wielding foursome. Holding her arms out, she addressed the cadets: "Each Clan warrior must trust all others. An untrustworthy warrior would also break the links. You, my cadets, must trust these four swordsmen. At my signal you must run toward the warrior in front of you, right at his sword. You will trust him or her not to kill you. This ritual goes back many generations of Clan warriors. When my arms come down, run. More, you must run as fast as you can. I can tell if you shirk. I know each of you as well as I ever knew any warrior with whom I served, any member of my own sibko. I can read your faces as well as your actions. For the time being, as has been true since I first encountered you, I am your god."

She stared at the cadets for what seemed to Aidan like an eternity. He set his feet for the run, wondering if he should just turn his back on this ritual and walk out of the clearing. He had an urge to defy Joanna, but looking into the face of the swordsman in front of him, her face dour but firm, he knew he was not afraid of the woman or her sword.

Joanna's arms came down slowly. When they reached her side, Aidan and the others broke into a sprint. He bore down on the swordsman, focusing on the sword itself. There was no wavering. The swordsman held it firmly. Was it possible this was a suicide ritual because Joanna or Ter Roshak had decided none of the four were worthy of becoming warriors, so they must be killed? No, Joanna had said they must trust. He must trust this woman, even though he had never seen her before. And only because she was a warrior of the Jade Falcon Clan. At his last free step, with the sword still pointed at his chest, he leaped at it.

And landed at the woman's feet, on his face. As he learned later, all four swordsmen had whipped their swords out of the way at the last possible instant. It was, as Joanna had said, merely a ritual.

As Aidan and the others stood up, Joanna walked around the line of swordsmen. "You see," she said, "the act of running at the sword required trust. You had to know deep down that you can trust your comrades—that is the way of the Clan. It is essential to know that completely. If you doubt us, then we doubt you."

She walked slowly among the group of cadets. Aidan and Bret were brushing dirt off their clothing. Marthe apparently had run at her sword without falling to the ground as a consequence.

Joanna stopped by Rena, who stood quite still. Without warning, the falconer, with a clean swift stroke, drew her sword across Rena's cheek. Rena backed away two steps but did not bring her hand up to her face. A line of blood appeared at the cut and began to drip down the side of her face in several thin lines. Aidan noted that the blood seemed dark, almost black, but perhaps that was a trick of the firelight.

Joanna peered into Rena's eyes. "You hesitated," she said. "It was perhaps only half a second and you did not quite stumble, but I saw clearly that you nearly dodged sideways, that your step slowed before you completed your run. For an instant in time, your trust deserted you. Perhaps you are not ready to be a warrior, quineg?"

"Not so," Rena said. "I am ready. But you are correct, Falconer Joanna, I did—I do not know how to describe it—I did flinch, nearly hesitate, had a moment where I did not expect the sword to move. I deserve the punishment you gave me."

"Of course you deserve it. You have no reason even to hint at a doubt. The hint is like the flinch before the sword. Yet let me say your honesty is to be praised. Do you wish to continue your warrior training?"

"Yes!"

Joanna nodded her head. "Then you will. Everyone, form a circle and link hands."

The training officer who had held the sword for Rena gave her a med-cloth, treated to staunch blood at a touch. Rena held it on her cut for a short time. When it came away, the bleeding had stopped, although the cut itself was red-rimmed and appalling to look at.

In the circle Aidan linked hands with Marthe and an orderly. Joanna stood in the center of the circle, by the fire again, now holding one of the swords. New wood had been heaped on the fire and the flames burned high. When Joanna began to speak again, she swept the sword through the highest flames at her words' many points of emphasis.

"Hail the Jade Falcon as it swoops down on its prey!"

"Seyla," came the response of all.

The Clansmen in the circle, including the cadets, affirmed in the same ancient way each of her bellowed statements. They were all used to the ceremonial forms. Most of her words described the greatness of the Jade Falcon Clan. There were praises of heroism, war, the proper behavior of warriors, the values of all the Clans, the greatness of the Kerenskys. The ceremony lasted for more than an hour, at the end of which Joanna's voice had become hoarse. She ended by yelling, "Thus is the way of the Clan!" She attacked the flames with her sword as if they were the souls of her enemies.

"Seyla," the circle breathed as one.

Then Joanna repeated the phrase, her sword working at a feverish pace now.

And again did they affirm, "Seyla." Several times more did Joanna bellow, "Thus is the way of the Clans!" Each time there followed the chorus of voices, "Seyla!"