Loremaster, the Advocate, the Inquisitor, and the current Khan of the Jade Falcon Clan, Elias Crichell. Elias Crichell had earned fame as a great warrior and shrewd politician. He was also said to be a harsh judge, who believed in severe punishment for even the smallest offense. Many credited him with the Jade Falcons' success among the seventeen clans.
Joanna ceased scanning the council, suddenly aware of a strong gaze upon her. She knew whose it was even before turning to look, for she had learned that Ter Roshak, primary offender in this case and the highest-ranking officer, would be seated alone at the center table. Looking back in his direction, she was astonished at the change. Once bulky and impressive, Roshak seemed to have shrunk. His face, once so sculptured in its hardness, looked softer, as if formed of lumps and bulges instead of cliffs and crevasses. But his eyes had not changed. They glared like beacons, penetrating as a beam from a pulse laser. With a start she realized that Ter Roshak was not looking at her. His hatred was directed purely at Aidan.
* * *
Aidan had watched Ter Roshak come in. The two had not met since Aidan left Ironhold several years before. Roshak had vowed to kill Aidan if he revealed any part of his deception. Though the threat had not frightened Aidan, he had remembered it often enough.
He wondered briefly if he should regret his action, which would surely ruin Roshak's career. But what good was such a career if the man violated Clan law? Of the three under various accusations here in Clan council, Roshak was the only one who deserved to be on trial. Neither Aidan nor Joanna had ordered murder. Of course, murder was not the issue. Few of the Clansmen sitting in judgment would think twice about the elimination of a sibko of freeborns. No, it was Roshak's manipulation of events in defiance of Clan law that was the terrible deed.
Aidan, however, was appalled by the murder that Roshak had planned with such calculation. Perhaps the Terran books in Aidan's secret library had corrupted his mind.
Clan culture did not hold life so dear as did Terran, he knew, but the killing of cadets with warrior potential merely to create an identity for him was not moral. Yet sometimes he even scoffed at himself. What did he care about morality? Murder like the one Roshak had committed might have been a mistake, an error of command judgment, but morality was not a factor in Clan actions.
Warriors were still filing into the chamber. It would be some time before the trial would begin, and Aidan was restless. He wanted to speak with Joanna, but they could drag him out of the room for so much as nodding to her. Silence was the order of the day, not only for the defendants and the witnesses, but for the warriors sitting in judgment. In council and in warfare, it was the Jade Falcon way to focus all attention on the matter at hand. During the actual session, a warrior could speak if he or she stood and was acknowledged by the Loremaster, who acted as director of the proceedings.
The only speech allowed at present was between the officers of the court, who were sitting at the long table across from Roshak. They maintained an incessant if undecipherable murmur. In the whole time since Roshak had entered the room, he had not looked at any of the officers of the court.
The Advocate for all three defendants finished off his conversation with the Inquisitor and with Khan Elias Crichell, who sat aloof and, truth to tell, apparently oblivious to events. The Advocate stood up and walked toward the table where Aidan and Joanna sat. His name was Beck Qwabe, which was about all Aidan knew about him. Almost Aidan's height, he was as tall as the Inquisitor was short, and had unusually gentle eyes for a Jade Falcon Clansman. Aidan had seen falcons with such eyes, and they generally proved to be poor hunters. He hoped that the comparison would not carry over to Beck Qwabe.
"The proceedings will begin soon," Qwabe said. "I am instructed to tell you that you may reduce participation in the trial by admitting guilt, invoking the rite of forgiveness, and taking your chance on whatever punishment the Khan chooses for you. Based on what I know about the two of you, I believe that you would reject such an offer, quineg?"
Both Aidan and Joanna ritually responded, "Neg."
Beck Qwabe gave them their last instructions on trial procedures. Aidan had received this same briefing so often since arriving on Ironhold that his mind wandered. As had Joanna's, his gaze traveled out toward the warriors looking down at the defendants. If the cruelty in many of those eyes was any indication, he and the others did not stand a chance.
Suddenly one pair of eyes caught his attention, not because of their malice or even their coldness, but because of their familiarity. They belonged to someone sitting far up in the tiers, so far away that the eyes were little more than dots. Yet Aidan knew from the eyes and the erectness of her posture that it was Marthe staring down at him. It could be no other.
And it was logical. With two victories in her Trial, one of them over Aidan, Marthe had entered the warrior ranks at the level of Star Commander. Enough time had passed for her to rise further and to have fought for a Bloodname, for another of the Pryde Bloodnames. Though this was the first time Aidan had chosen to compete for a Bloodname, he had known of two other times that a Pryde Bloodname had become available during his years as a warrior. Marthe must have fought for one of them and won it.
He did not know why, but he felt some satisfaction that Marthe had preceded him to Bloodname status. Because they had been so close in the sibko, he had always expected them to succeed together in all Clan enterprises. When she had surged ahead of him in cadet training and subsequently cooled toward him, Aidan had been unhappy for a long while. Perhaps a very long while. Perhaps until now.
Beck Qwabe was summoned back to the Judgment Table, and at a nod from Khan Elias Crichell, the trial began.
24
"MechWarrior Horse," said Lenore Shi-Lu, the Inquisitor, her voice oratorical in its resonance. Aidan found it much more impressive than Beck Qwabe's rather thin tenor, especially considering the difference in height between the two court officers. Lenore Shi-Lu was as delicate and pretty as Beck Qwabe was lumbering and homely. Just as with Beck Qwabe, Aidan noticed the hint of falcon in her eyes. Again the difference was pronounced. Shi-Lu's eyes were not gentle like Qwabe's. Hers were the eyes of a hunting falcon, like the one named Warhawk Aidan had known in his own youth.
"MechWarrior Horse," she said, "that could not be your real name."
"It's not," Horse replied. "I don't give out my real name." The words, though spoken softly, echoed through the enormous room.
A shudder went through the observers at the coarse sound of Horse's reply, not only for the contractions, but for the suggestion of defiance. Defiance from a freeborn was not to be tolerated in official ceremonies. Most of the warriors in the chamber had had little contact with freeborn warriors.
"However that may be," said Lenore Shi-Lu, with some contempt for the freeborn in her stentorian voice, "This is an official proceeding, and for official proceedings we must have official records. You must tell us the name you were born with. Come, MechWarrior, no hesitation. We can derive it from your codex anyway."
Horse nodded, knowing that the Inquisitor already knew the name and merely wanted him to speak it. "It's Tyle. My real name is Tyle. I am named after my father."
The word fatheralso created a stir among the observers, for it was a reminder of the foul origins of a freeborn. Genefather or genemother was a term of honor. But the naked words fatherand motherwere so obscene that they were not uttered even as curses.
"Thank you," the Inquisitor said smugly, then led Horse through a series of questions that revealed Aidan's participation in the freeborn training unit. She allowed him to describe the Trial during which he and Aidan had cooperated to defeat two opposing BattleMechs and earn their warrior status.