The man began a chant. The phrases were archaic and the rhythm complex. Dechan was tempted to turn around and see if there was a prompter. When he noticed that the Dragoon's eyes were closed, the temptation vanished. The tale spun by the verses seemed to be telling of the origin and history of Wolf's Dragoons. The highlights were there, but it was disjointed, as if the speaker were leaving things out. Dechan supposed the chant to be an edited version of something longer; if every detail were told with the intricacy of some of the verses, they would be here for days.
The speaker's recounting contained more and more of the detailed verses as he covered significant events in the life and service record of MacKenzie Wolf. The slant of the phrases and the choice of words made it all sound very heroic. Dechan had nearly tuned it out by the time the speaker reached the battle of Misery; then he paid attention and soon regretted it. Dechan's contributions went unmentioned. Instead his old friend Thorn Dominguez was extolled as the one who had brought the Iron Man down.
"They had to keep it quiet, remember?" Jenette whispered in his ear. She had caught his arm and he realized that he was trembling.
"I thought the lie was over."
The speaker went on, telling of MacKenzie's heroics and the struggle to rebuild the Dragoons. There were verses about his service with the Black Widow Battalion and his ultimate leadership of it. Finally, the telling slowed to an end. The speaker stepped back and bowed to the Loremaster. The figure in black returned to the podium.
"MacKenzie Wolf has fallen. Shall his name be remembered in the halls?'
A silence descended on the chamber.
Hamilton Atwyl stepped into the aisle and shouted.
"Aff! Let his name—"
Cries of "Neg! Neg!" cut him off.
Contradictory shouts erupted as the solemn dignity of the proceedings dissolved in turmoil. Dechan watched Jaime Wolf and was surprised at the stiffness of the man. Even when the Loremaster turned to him and said something that the microphones didn't pick up, the Colonel stood still and said nothing. The Lore-master tolled the bell and kept it tolling until the tumult floundered and quiet returned.
"The rule is clear. He died a warrior, he shall be remembered as a warrior, one among many. This is the rede of the Loremaster."
There was a pause, then a wave of grumbling and a few exclamations of satisfaction. But there were no objections.
"Seyla," the Loremaster intoned.
"Seyla," the sloppy chorus of the assembly echoed.
The dispersing crowd was much noisier than it had been when arriving. Dragoon jostled Dragoon in the exodus, and Dechan was cut off from Jenette by a squat tanker who seemed in no hurry. Jenette didn't seem to notice and pushed on ahead. He was sure she would be waiting for him outside, so he resigned himself to the slower pace. Soon enough he'd be out and they could go elsewhere.
Outside the hall, a fistfight broke out and stalled the crowd. Dechan leaned against the doorway, at once amused and irritated. Dragoon unity on display. Waiting on Dragoons seemed to be his life's work.
"You seem to have been forgotten, Dechan Fraser."
Dechan turned to look at the speaker, a sandy-haired giant of a man. Neither the face nor the deep voice were familiar to him, but the dress uniform bore a nameplate that gave him the giant's name.
"What would you know about it, Major Elson?"
"I was an adoptee, too."
"But now you're just one of the big happy family."
"I talk with many of the others who are not part of the circle of old-timers and sycophants surrounding Wolf. Some of them have told me that you were once a rising star with the Dragoons. Some even said you had the makings of a colonel, and that you might one day have commanded the Dragoons. But that was before Wolf sent you away. Many people say he will not give an outsider due reward."
"Yeah, well, whatever prospects I had, they're gone now."
"Look around you, Fraser. Not everyone cares for the way some officers take rank and make it privilege. The Dragoons are changing."
That was obvious, but Dechan didn't understand what this man was making of it. Maybe he'd been away too long to know the currents within the Dragoons, but he'd lived the Kuritan life long enough to know better than to commit himself to a stranger. "What are you suggesting?"
"I suggest nothing. I merely point out the obvious."
"Obvious to you, maybe."
"I was told that you were a perceptive man. You know what the old Dragoons did to your life. Look around you, see where things stand, then remember what you heard tonight."
"And what does that mean?"
If the man was annoyed by Dechan's stupid act, he didn't show it. His tone remained calm, and his voice stayed pitched to carry no further than the two of them. He smiled a friendly, almost conspiratorial smile. "True Dragoons welcome, and honor, true warriors."
"Look, Major, I'm in no mood for platitudes."
"I am sorry to disturb you then," Elson said with a dip of his head. "I will be about my business and no longer impose upon you. I wish you well, Dechan Fraser."
The big man vanished surprisingly quickly into the crowd that was finally breaking up. Jenette called to Dechan and he headed in her direction. Clearly, she had seen the man.
"Who was that?"
Dechan found himself surprisingly reluctant to talk about what the big man had said. "Somebody who thought he knew me."
"I didn't know you knew any Elementals."
"I don't, but maybe I will someday."
Jenette wrinkled her brow at his obliqueness. She laughed in an attempt to change his mood. "But we don't need to play soldier tonight; that duty's done. I promised we'd have the night alone after the Remembrance and so I am at your command. What do you want to do?"
"I think I just want to go home."
36
Stanford Blake blew into Colonel Wolf's office like a whirlwind. I was glad to see him, and hoped he would shake the Colonel out of the strange lethargy into which he had fallen since learning of the death of his son. Blake was still in field uniform, which was worn and stained from the training maneuvers he had been conducting when I'd contacted him. I'd been worried that he would dress me down for not going through channels, but when he'd heard what I had to say, he had promised to come at once. He'd been as good as his word.
The Colonel looked surprised to see his intelligence chief burst through the door. Maybe it was because we were in the middle of an intel briefing that he took it in stride, but I had my doubts. Jaime Wolf had been been taking everything with a laconic indifference of late.
"You're a little early, aren't you, Stan?"
Blake started to say something and caught himself as he realized that the Colonel was not alone. Glancing at Captain Svados, Blake's intel second, he said, "Janey, you'd better go watch the store."
She nodded briskly. He stood slapping his bush hat against his thigh until she left. I started to follow, but Stan restrained me. "Just shut the door, Brian, then run a bugging check."
"But this is—"
"Just do it!"
I did. Stan appropriated a seat and waited silently until I was done. The Colonel humored him and waited as well. The scanners reported no active devices and I told him so. His response was, "Now, run a comprehensive check and match it against the last set in your personal commset."
Colonel Wolf lost interest as I followed Stan's orders. He called the morning's sitreps up on his screen and stared at them with more interest than he had shown when we were reviewing them. Still, I wondered if he was only feigning interest. Just as I started the tertiary checks, he spoke.