Epilogue
WS Dire Wolf, Transfer Orbit
Rasalhague system, Clan Wolf Occupation Zone
12 January 3051
It was easy to pick out the ComStar contingent, even in the chaos of the shuttlebay. And in the ComStar contingent, it was easy to pick out the Precentor Martial, a tall man whose white robes stood out from the yellow of the Acolytes around him. Victor made his way to the group and extended his hand to the Precentor.
“I was surprised to hear that you are leaving.”
Anastasius Focht gripped Victor’s hand firmly. “Yes. Ulric said that I would not be welcome where you all are going now. I don't suppose you know where that is?”
At a shaken head, he continued, “And what of you? How goes the inquiry into your behavior during the attack?”
Victor shrugged, “I have little idea. It is better now this past month, but I have still largely been in the dark since the attack. I believe that Ulric is trying to shield me from the Smoke Jaguars, but you never know with him. Certainly they are not happy.”
“And Star Captain Kerensky?” Focht asked with a smile.
“The same,” Victor said, making a face. The nascent Wolf in him disliked the deception, but both it and the Lyran knew that the dissemblance was necessary.
“The Jaguars certainly are very angry.” replied Focht, “Losing the ilKhan’s body to space was apparently very bad, though I must admit that I do not understand why or how, since surely a warrior culture must be familiar with the difficulties of recovering a corpse from the battlefield.”
Victor, who himself had never quite figured that one out, got defensive, “I was with Jaguars! They told me to go back!”
The Precentor Martial raised his hands in mock-surrender. “And I have heard that the Warriors involved have been punished severely. From what gossip I’ve heard, the consensus is that you acted correctly but the Jaguars need someone to blame.”
“Oh, joy,” he said a touch bitterly, “I guess that it was too much to hope that the Clanners’ sense of honor would stop them playing ‘pass the buck’.”
“People are people, Your Highness.”
“Please,” said Victor, “I have told you, I am not anyone’s Highness anymore.”
“No, Victor Steiner-Davion. You may be a bondsman to Clan Wolf, but you remain a prince of the Federated Commonwealth. Never forget that.”
“While I am remembering that, I do not suppose that you can pass word to my parents? If nothing else, then at least that I am alive?”
The Precentor Martial touched his right palm to Victor’s forehead. "The Peace of Blake be with you, Victor Steiner-Davion. I don't know what the Primus will approve concerning the Clans. As we are to implement some of the occupation policies for the Clans during their absence, ComStar is in a delicate position. If nothing else, perhaps I can let them know their son made them proud."
The prince nodded. “Thank you. You know, I will miss talking to you.” He decided to take a chance and test a theory, “I feel that we have become friends; in fact, almost family.”
Focht looked taken aback for a fraction of a second before he schooled his face to an easy smile.
Ha! Got you!
“Me as well, Your Highness. I will miss you. I do not know what lies ahead of you, but I wish you the best of luck.”
Victor came to attention with clicking heels and gave his best Nagelring salute before turning away.
A few minutes later, he was watching the shuttle bay’s door open through a viewport when he heard a deep voice, filtered through an Elemental’s external speaker. “Victor Ian Steiner-Davion?”
He turned and saw two Smoke Jaguar Elementals in full armor. Incongruously, they wore red sashes over their dark, mottled camouflage.
“Come with us,” said one of them; he couldn’t tell which.
The one on the right turned and began to walk down a corridor. Victor followed, and then the other fell into place behind him.
So, this is the sound of the other shoe dropping, he thought. I hope I survive.
They came to a lift, where another be-sashed Elemental stood waiting inside. Victor entered, and was horrified when his two escorts followed in after. No lift was large with three armored Elementals inside.
As they ascended, Victor felt a pit growing in the center of his stomach. Whatever was going on, the Jaguars were taking no chances.
The lift stopped at a level that Victor had never been on and opened on a short corridor. The doors were not labeled as they were in other parts of the ship.
At one of them, the lead Elemental knocked on the door with surprising gentleness. The door slid open, and then Victor was shoved hard through the door before he knew what was happening.
The door shut behind him, leaving Victor in total darkness. The urge to explore was countered by the fear that he might be in some engineering section, on a catwalk with a convenient lack of guard rails to keep him from falling into heavy machinery. He lay down on the floor and began to explore the room. He was relieved to discover the room held no lethal drops; less relieved to discover it was very small, and completely bare. Was this perhaps a prison cell where he was to be kept pending his final punishment?
Then a door opened. Disoriented as he was in the dark, he couldn’t tell if it was the same one he’d entered through.
Shielding his eyes against the bright glare of a spotlight, he was a woman standing roughly two meters from the door. Dressed as Ulric and Lara had been at the bidding for Rasalhague, she gestured him forward. He fancied that he recognized Katya from her stance, but the wolf’s head mask made it hard to be sure.
Still, he took the presence of a Wolf as good news, though he wondered if this most-formal of uniforms indicated a capital sentence was about to be meted out. He knew that the mask’s snarling muzzle was simply a part of the costume, but couldn’t help reading a bad omen into it.
For lack of any better option, he took a step towards her. Suddenly, the light illuminating her went out. After a moment, another came on, and she was standing two paces further on.
As he approached, she suddenly moved, her arms above her head, daggers flashing in her hands as they apparently stopped a pair of swords. In that motion, he knew for certain that it was Katya before him.
What followed was a strange gauntlet, where the light went out, he was attacked by swords, dodged them, and moved forward to a Katya who kept appearing just a few paces further along. He wondered if this was some sort of strange Clan Trial, the Jaguars attacking and him evading with her assistance. Was she blocking more sword-blows?
Eventually, the light did not go out and he was allowed to reach Katya and stand next to her.
And then the light above them winked out, though this time he felt her stay by his side.
A spotlight came on, illuminating Ulric, wearing the same costume as Katya but sans helmet.
He spoke, his voice carrying a measured, almost ritualistic tone and cadence.
"Trothkin, seen and unseen, near and far, living and dead, rejoice as the Wolf has brought us a foundling." He let the words echo through the darkness, until silence reigned once more. "It was forty seven years ago that the Womb of Steel whelped a pup such as this. That birthing is but a thing of legend, but none will deny the rede of it."
Around him, Victor heard a crowd of voices whisper a word, “Seyla.”
Ulric dropped his voice to a growl, the measured pace falling away to reveal great passion. "I am the Oathmaster! All will be bound by this Conclave, until they are dust and memories, and then beyond that time until the end of all that is."
Again, the crowd answered, “Seyla.”
Victor had a feeling that this was not an execution, but the knot in his stomach remained. He still had absolutely no idea what was going on.
Ulric scanned his head, regarding the invisible crowd. "The Wolf's wisdom is not in doubt, but there are those who believe the Wolf's generosity is too great. Who would deny this pup his life?"
Lights came on to illuminate a white circle painted onto the deck, about two meters across.
Noiselessly, a man stepped onto it. Short and slight in the manner of Clan Pilots, he was not dressed like Katya and Ulric, though his costume was no less striking. An emerald green jumpsuit covered him from the tops of knee-high black boots to his wrists and up his neck. A cloak that appeared to be made of green feathers fell down his back, and his mask was in the shape of a great raptor - also green. Gee, I wonder what Clan he’s from.
The man removed his mask, and Ulric spoke, “I recognize thee, Cavell Malthus of the Jade Falcons."
“Oathmaster,” the man said, staring at Victor with a strange, hungry expression, “I ken death from the skies for this pup. Aye, it is death I see.”
“And who among the Wolves would deny this vision?” Ulric practically shouted in reply.
A Wolf Pilot stepped forward and removed her helmet, revealing a woman that Victor recognized as the Star Captain in charge of the 279th’s Fighter contingent.
"I recognize thee, Rotheran of the Wolves."
"Oathmaster, it is my ken that this pup need fear nothing from the air."
After Rotheran spoke, silence reigned for several moments, and then she and the Jade Falcon donned their masks but did not move from their places.
An Elemental stepped forward to stand by the Falcon. He wore a bodysuit that covered him from boots to wrists as well, apparently made of gray leather. Bizarrely, a loin cloth of gray and black mottled fur covered his groin despite the full coverage of the suit. His mask was of a great cat. He removed his mask, revealing a dark face that seemed almost to blend in with the blackness of the room.
"I recognize thee, Lincoln Osis of the Smoke Jaguars."
The Jaguar’s voice was almost inhumanly deep, delivered in a fierce growl that made it even deeper. "Oathmaster, I ken death by hand for this pup. Aye, it is death I see."
Once more, Ulric asked, “And who among the Wolves would deny this vision?”
A Wolf Elemental stepped forward next to Rotheran. She removed her mask to reveal the woman he’d seen in the baths on his first day - though he’d seen her more recently at the door to the bridge, where she’d been the first to learn that he’d been giving orders to Warriors. This is it, he thought grimly. If he was on trial, this would be the moment this fecal matter hit the rotary impeller.
"I recognize thee, Evantha Fetladral of the Wolves," said Ulric.
"Oathmaster,” she said with what sounded like a touch of amusement, “It is my ken that this pup need fear nothing from the hand."
Victor felt the knot in his stomach relax. He still had no idea what was going on, but he felt sure that the worst danger had passed.
The two giants put on their masks, and once more someone stepped forward.
It was a normal-sized person this time, and so probably a MechWarrior. He was dressed like Bjorn Jorgensson had been at the bidding for Rasalhague. A Ghost Bear, then.
"I recognize thee, Garald Winson of the Ghost Bears."
The Bear’s voice was so cold Victor could practically feel the ice forming in the air as he said, "Oathmaster, I ken death from his equals. Aye, it is death I see."
Once more, Ulric entreatied, “And who among the Wolves would deny this vision?”
Victor expected Katya to step forward, but she remained still. Instead, a woman stepped forward enveloped in an all-black Wolf’s cloak. She pushed the cloak back, revealing black leather with a scarlet hourglass painted on her stomach.
It can’t be.
But when she removed her mask, it revealed a fall of bright red hair and a wicked grin.
"I recognize thee,” said Ulric, “Natasha Kerensky of the Wolves."
Where there had previously been a knot in his stomach, Victor now felt like he’d been kicked there instead. By an Atlas.
Natasha Kerensky, he thought to himself. Oh my God. Wolf’s Dragoons!
He remembered his idle thought when he'd first encountered Katya that she might be related to the infamous warrior, and how he'd dismissed it. More fool me.
His mind started to race through the implications when he realized that he was not the only one to be surprised by the reveal. Garald Winson, the only one he could see with a bare face, had gone pale as a sheet. Whispers started up in the darkness, silenced only when the Black Widow spoke.
“Oathmaster,” she said in a voice dripping with contempt, “I know this pup. He has nothing to fear from his equals, or from those who would style themselves his betters.”
Ulric’s voice startled Victor out of his shock. “Face me, pup.”
Victor obediently turned.
The Khan continued, “Thrice has he been challenged and three defenders have risen for him. Sponsored by the Wolf, warded by the Clan, all is in order.”
Katya stepped forward, a soft tug on Victor’s arm indicating that he should follow. Once the pair of them were in the light, Katya produced one of her daggers, a handsome weapon with a silver wolf’s head for a pommel.
She took his right hand in her left, then slid the knife along his wrist, under the bondcord.
She spoke for the first time, saying, "This marked you as a bondsman, but yours is the heart, the mind, and the soul of a Warrior. The Wolf has seen it and I, Katya Kerensky, have seen it as well.”
Ulric intoned, “I, the Oathmaster, do witness it and proclaim it.”
Katya twisted the knife, cutting through the braided cord that had graced Victor’s wrist for almost a year. That done, she flipped the knife and gripped his fingers around the pommel.
She raised his hand into the air and shouted, "Let us rejoice and let pride sing out—the Wolves have a new warrior among their number."
A polite smattering of applause was supplemented by a loud whoop from Natasha Kerensky, who seemed characteristically to enjoy disrupting the proceedings.
The applause died down as Katya guided Victor back to his original place.
The Khan's eyes narrowed and the light from above shadowed his eyes and made his face into a death's head. "We will travel to where the Clans - all the Clans - must meet to discuss what we have done. We will elect a new ilKhan and review our successes and our failures. Then, under the leadership of the new ilKhan, we will return to the Inner Sphere and complete the liberation of the Star League from the forces that destroyed it three centuries ago!"
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End of Book 1! Next week I'll post a fun little intermission, and then straight into Book 2, which is based on Bred for War Blood Legacy.
This is one of a small number of scenes I found it very difficult not to directly copy from Stackpole. I was able to reimagine the washroom scene from Chapter 2 thanks to some inspiration from readers, but I felt wrong interfering with the mechanics of these rituals too much. For example, near the start of Book 2 we'll see Victor attending Clan Council meetings, and while the format is the same, and many of the questions are the same, the way things unfold are completely different. But for a formal rite? I didn't feel a lot of wiggle-room.
Still, I tried to make things a little less plagiaristic. Victor doesn't know Carew, so instead an associate of Katya's speaks for him, but Evantha still goes for Victor because she's impressed by his chutzpah on the bridge. I feel like I did an okay job.
This was originally one piece together with what became Chapter 13, but it felt more right to split them.
Also, notice that Victor is starting to lie like a Clanner! Ulric must be proud.
Victor having a solid guess at Focht's identity by this point is less that he's swifter on the uptake than Phelan, and more that he's much more familiar with the details of the events in question. I love the idea of Focht trying to decide whether or not to tell the Primus that he's been rumbled (though he probably knows that one of his attendants is actually an agent of ROM reporting on all of his conversations anyway).
