Warrior: Coupé (The Warrior Trilogy, Book Three): BattleTech Legends, #59

by Michael A. Stackpole

  The dwarf smiled affably. “Remember, I’m only the acting mayor. Once my mother stops running you around in the Bifrost, she’ll take over again.” Clovis glanced at Cat. “My mother has told me stories of the raid in which Lestrade lost his arm and leg. She used to work in the castle on Summer and had to flee for her life during that raid. From what she’s said, Lestrade probably murdered his father, and almost certainly arranged the accidents that killed all his siblings so he would inherit the throne. That doesn’t offer much of a recommendation for his character, but I’d have to side with Cat. I don’t think Lestrade would want a raid from the Combine in the Isle of Skye. And even if he did, why Lyons? It would make no sense.”

  Clovis looked back at Morgan. “Isn’t this something of a moot point? You were going to be leaving Lyons within the month anyway. Right?”

  Morgan nodded. “That’s our plan. We’ve got a meeting scheduled for Ryde at the beginning of June. Whether or not we would have left Lyons on our own, part of me hates to appear to be following Lestrade’s order. I suppose it can’t be helped in this case. We cannot afford to be late arriving on Ryde.”

  Dan clenched his teeth. Morgan calls it a meeting, but all of us know what it really will be. Morgan and Yorinaga Kurita will once again do battle to determine who between them will live or die. While this war engulfs all the Successor States, Morgan Kell and Yorinaga Kurita are also holding their own little war. Were Morgan not preoccupied with—hell, obsessed with—his private conflict, he’d drop the Kell Hounds in on Aldo Lestrade just to deliver an answer to that madman’s order.

  “So, we’ll get the Kell Hounds out of here on time, just to keep Lestrade happy.” Morgan went on, his countenance darkening. “But if our compliance plays into one of Lestrade’s schemes, I swear the Kell Hounds will make the duke regret it for what little of his life he’ll have left.”

  Chapter 8

  THARKAD

  DISTRICT OF DONEGAL

  LYRAN COMMONWEALTH

  20 APRIL 3029

  Jeana Clay hit the pause button on the holodisk recorder as she turned toward the door. The instant the Archon entered, Jeana rose from her chair and crossed the room quickly. Before the guards had closed the door, she threw her arms around Katrina Steiner. “Hello, Mother. How good to see you today.”

  Jeana’s voice—a perfect match for that of Melissa Steiner-Davion—did not betray her unease. Why has the Archon come to my chambers? Has something happened to Melissa? Jeana pulled back from the tall, platinum-haired matriarch and gave her a respectful bow. “Forgive me, Archon, but I did not expect you.”

  The gray-eyed woman smiled easily and waved Jeana back toward her chair as she seated herself on the edge of the bed. “There is no emergency. Don’t be alarmed. According to the holodisk I received this morning from the Federated Suns, Melissa is well.”

  Jeana caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the mirror on the closet door. The long golden hair and carefully sculpted features matched Melissa’s face in all details. The gray eyes, given to Melissa by genetics and Jeana by contact lenses, stared back at her from the mirror. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to wearing another’s face.

  Jeana turned to the Archon. “Is Melissa pregnant yet?”

  Katrina Steiner shook her head. “No, you are not pregnant yet.” They laughed together, but the Archon’s smile turned pensive. “Your look, your manner, your laugh. There are times when I think you and Melissa conspired to switch places and fool all of us.”

  Jeana shook her head. “No, Archon. Your daughter has been with her husband since we left Terra after the wedding.”

  Katrina looked fondly at Jeana. “I had a message from Morgan Kell today. He says the Kell Hounds have been ordered off Lyons and will be proceeding to Ryde. If I read between the lines correctly, he thought you would be interested in this information. He also said to tell you, ‘The Sanglamore Sash has kept Dan quite safe.’”

  Jeana felt her heart leap. Please, God, let it continue to do so. She looked up at the Archon, then blushed. “I gave Dan Allard the sash I got when I passed my final ’Mech test at Sanglamore…”

  Katrina Steiner nodded knowingly. “I noticed you were quite taken with him during the festivities before the wedding. I know we’re not really mother and daughter, but I also realize you’ve got no one to talk to about such matters. If you wish…”

  Jeana smiled. My father was right to help you escape Alessandro Steiner’s trap so many years ago. You actually do care about your people. “It is difficult.” She pressed her lips together into a think-line. “I wanted very much to tell Dan who I was and what I did, but I could not violate security like that. If people knew your daughter was in the Federated Suns, your political enemies could accuse you of selling out the Commonwealth to Hanse Davion.”

  Jeana looked up into the Archon’s steel-gray eyes. “What makes Dan so remarkable is that he did not press me on the subject. He just wanted to know if I was happy, and if so, he said that was enough for him. I know it’s crazy because we’ve had so little time together, but it seems like I’ve known him all my life.”

  “You love him very much, don’t you?” Katrina asked softly.

  Jeana nodded. “I remember the first reception on Terra. It seems like we danced forever. He was so gentle, yet so strong.” Jeana covered her mouth to smother a giggle. “Archon, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but all MechWarriors from the Federated Suns wear ceremonial spurs on their boots. They’re just small things, with no rowels, and are said to recall the old days when cavalry troops moved quickly and hit hard—just like ’Mech regiments.”

  The Archon laughed. “Silly superstition. Just like a Sanglamore Sash, right?”

  Jeana blushed. “Touché, Highness. Anyway, while Dan and I were dancing, the hem of my gown caught on a spur during a turn. I began to stumble, but Dan managed to lift me up and continue the dance without so much as losing a beat of the music. Then he spent the next minute or two apologizing for his clumsiness in getting his spur caught. Not often you find strength, agility, intelligence, and consideration wrapped up in so handsome a package.”

  The Archon nodded. “And in a MechWarrior, even more rare.” Katrina stared off over Jeana’s shoulder. “It does not surprise me that Morgan selected him to join the Kell Hounds.”

  Jeana noticed a change in the Archon’s voice. “What’s wrong? Forgive my presumption, but you seem apprehensive.”

  Katrina Steiner raised an eyebrow. “You have my daughter’s perceptiveness as well as her face. I am worried…about Morgan. He left the monastery on Zaniah when he learned Yorinaga Kurita had returned from exile and killed his brother, Patrick. I think Morgan’s preoccupation with Yorinaga may be clouding his judgment.”

  Jeana chewed her lower lip. “It almost sounds as though Morgan is engaging in a vendetta like a leutnant fresh out of Sanglamore or Nagelring.”

  Katrina rose and moved to the doors leading out to the balcony overlooking the Triad’s garden. “I’ve known Morgan Kell for twenty-three years. Morgan was there with me and my future husband, Arthur Luvon, when your father whisked the three of us to safety. Morgan, Arthur, and I traveled a long way and saw many things in the year we spent running from Alessandro Steiner’s assassins.

  “I learned a great deal about Morgan in that time. He might have been considered reckless and daring, but he was never one who wanted to engage in personal competition with an enemy. Morgan was more the type to fight as hard as he could, then offer the winner or loser his hand in friendship and respect. You’re a MechWarrior just as I was. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

  Jeana rose from her chair and walked over to the Archon. She slipped her arm around the other woman’s shoulder and gave her a hug. “Yes, I’ve seen MechWarriors like that, and I’ve the utmost respect for them. Still, Morgan changed after Mallory’s World back in 3016. He quit the regiment he and Patrick created, scattered all but a battalion of the Kell Hounds, and then retreated to a monastery for e
leven years. That’s not at all like the Morgan you describe.”

  Katrina nodded wearily. “I think that’s what scares me so. If Morgan were merely acting like a kid, trying to prove how tough he is at his age, I’d sponsor him in the games on Solaris. The problem is that Morgan’s not acting like a kid. Everything—his return, reforming the regiment—seems directed at a final confrontation with Yorinaga Kurita.” Katrina looked at Jeana with tears beginning to well in her eyes. “I think Morgan knows exactly what he’s doing, and I think it will kill him.”

  Jeana hugged Katrina more tightly. “No one wants to see a friend heading toward disaster and not be able to do something about it.”

  The Archon shook her head. “I guess I’m just being too selfish. Morgan and Patrick used to remind me so much of Arthur that I could see his spirit living on in them. The Kell Hounds, the name of their unit, was the name Arthur used to call the two of them as kids. They used the name in his memory.” Katrina swallowed hard. “If I lose Morgan, then I’ll have nothing left of my husband.”

  “But you always have your daughter, Highness. Think how proud your husband would have been of Melissa, and how he would have applauded her marriage to Hanse Davion.”

  Katrina drew a handkerchief from her pocket and dried her tears. “Thank you for reminding me of that and for enduring so much in your role as Melissa. You serve the Commonwealth well.”

  Jeana bowed deeply. “You honor me more than you know.”

  Katrina took Jeana’s hand. “You may not be my daughter, but I don’t think I could have spoken as openly even to her. Thank you even more for your friendship, Jeana.”

  A quick knock at the door preceded its opening by half a second. A tall, black-haired young woman poked in her head with a smile. “Mel, do you still want to go… Oh, Archon, forgive me. I…”

  Katrina smiled warmly. “It’s all right, Misha. Melissa and I were just chatting about the difficulties of being parted from one you love.”

  “Speaking of which, my friend,” Jeana said teasingly, “have you heard from your Captain Redburn?”

  Misha swung the door shut behind her, then crossed and sat on the bed. “I received a holodisk from him that’s two months old. The Federated Suns military censors let most of the message get through. He sounds healthy enough. He’s in a new ’Mech—I gather from vague references that it’s a captured Liao Centurion…”

  Jeana sat down next to Melissa Steiner’s closest friend and took Misha’s right hand into her own. “What happened to his old ’Mech?”

  Misha shrugged. “I’m not sure, but sifting through the press releases and stories coming from the Liao front, I gather he lost it on St. Andre in the first wave of assaults. I’ve seen hints about a training battalion that has proved to be very effective as a strike force. Putting that together with some things Andy said before the war started, that must be his unit.”

  Katrina narrowed her eyes. “I think I may recommend that Simon Johnson of the Lyran Intelligence Corps put you to work breaking down Kurita intelligence, or maybe seeing what you can glean from the information we make public. I daresay Quintus Allard would be alarmed to hear what you’ve deduced about the Davion war effort.”

  Jeana gave Misha one of Melissa’s smiles. “Mother, you’ve dealt with Misha’s father long enough to know it’s impossible to keep a secret from someone in the Auburn family. Court historians extraordinaire!” She patted Misha’s hand. “The Auburns are the only thing that keep us Steiners honest.”

  Misha smiled. “True enough.” She looked up at the Archon. “If you think I could be of use in the LIC, I’d be happy to assist, but I’m not sure I want to work with Simon Johnson. That spymaster is so tricky. I always feel I cannot trust anything he says.”

  Katrina nodded. “We’ll save you as our secret weapon then. In the meantime, I’m interested in your thoughts and theories about Kurita. Keep me posted.”

  Misha smiled. “I promise, Highness.”

  The Archon moved to the door. “I’ll let you two get on with whatever you had planned for this afternoon.” She held her hand out to Jeana and drew her daughter’s double into a hug. “Have fun, Melissa. And thank you for our chat. It was just like old times.”

  Chapter 9

  FURILLO

  BOLAN PROVINCE

  LYRAN COMMONWEALTH

  25 APRIL 3029

  “The question is, Ryan Steiner, do you want to be Archon?”

  Ryan Steiner raked long, slender fingers through his thick blond hair and stared back at his questioner. Your tone, Great-Uncle Alessandro, suggests that “yes” is the only proper answer. It’s the answer I’d give in a heartbeat, too, except that I know you hope for a return to the throne. He narrowed his eyes and imagined he saw disgust flicker across Alessandro’s gray eyes. It’s true that my eyes are darker than those of most Steiners, but that doesn’t mean I’m as weak or defective as you seem to imagine.

  Ryan nodded his head to the older man seated across from him in the solarium. “Yes, Archon, I do desire the throne.”

  Alessandro’s smile at Ryan’s reply brought some life back into the ex-Archon’s tired, wrinkled face. It had been twenty-two years since Katrina Steiner had deposed him. Ryan knew that Alessandro had been more subtle than some others in attempting to take back his power, but none of these schemers had been very effective. Ryan wondered what plot his uncle had in mind now and why he was trying to work his great-nephew into it.

  As if reading Ryan’s mind, Alessandro waved him to one of the wicker chairs arranged to face a holodisk viewer. Above them, through the solarium’s glass roof, the stars burned with a fierce cold light. Ryan smiled as he saw that the larger of Furillo’s dual moons had moved into the constellation Serpentarius.

  I’ve always considered that a good omen. Perhaps the old man’s plan will work.

  Alessandro leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “As well you know, I have plotted my return to the Archon’s throne for almost as many years as you have been alive.” The old man smiled ruefully. “Over the years, dozens of my plans have failed, but I have not lost heart. Practice makes perfect, they say, and I have had enough practice to perfect a hundred different ways to take power. I still have supporters scattered throughout the Commonwealth, and I have secrets that can coerce cooperation out of the most difficult of enemies.”

  The wrinkled old man looked up at the stars as if he hated them. “What I no longer have, Ryan Steiner, is time. I’m only seventy-two years old, but life has caught up with me. The doctors think they can trace it back to a dose of radiation I took in a ’Mech battle forty years ago.” Alessandro looked up into the starry night and spoke as though defying the universe itself. “My body is consuming itself, but I have refused to let the doctors do anything. I will not die half a man.”

  Ryan felt his mouth go dry. Dying? He must have known for some time. That’s why he’s had me here “helping” him. He’s not needed my aid as much as he is grooming me to replace him. “I am deeply saddened to hear this news, Archon.”

  Alessandro’s features sharpened into a viper-like expression. “Please, Ryan, do not pity me. That I will not have. I have brought you here to be forged into a weapon for use against my enemies. Right now you need another lesson, and there is no subtle way to teach this one to you.” Alessandro picked up a remote control and pointed it at the holodisk viewer. “Watch this.”

  The screen brightened to reveal the regally handsome face of a man who might have been twenty-five years younger than Alessandro, but who was the Archon’s junior by only sixteen years. The man’s gray eyes and platinum blond hair marked him a Steiner; the scar tugging at the corner of his right eye marked him a MechWarrior. His deep voice rumbled undistorted from the speakers. “Greetings, Alessandro.”

  Ryan smiled without realizing it. Uncle Frederick! When did you begin to address the Archon so cordially?

  Frederick’s image smiled to put the viewer at ease. “We have quarreled for too long. I still recall
your visits to our home when I was but a child. I always wanted to be like you, and growing up, I cherished the picture taken of the two of us upon your graduation from the Nagelring Academy. I recall you promised me your ’Mech command when I became old enough to earn it, and I labored from that point to be worthy of your bequest.”

  Frederick’s hand absentmindedly strayed to the scar on his temple. “The time has come for us to put down our differences and unite to oppose the Witch. She’s already given her daughter to Hanse Davion, and I fear she will give away the rest of the Commonwealth as well. She’s openly embraced his war and sends our citizens to die in order to keep the Dragon from Davion’s neck. I am certain this situation alarms you as much as it does me.”

  Frederick lifted his head high. The camera slowly withdrew to show him in the gaudiest of medal-laden uniforms possible within the Lyran Commonwealth. Though he had earned each medal honestly, he looked more like a whore piling on jewelry than a heroic warrior.

  Ryan narrowed his eyes. He flaunts evidence of his service to the Commonwealth while he discusses treason. A glance at the disgusted expression on Alessandro’s face told Ryan that the Archon’s thoughts must parallel his own.

  Frederick continued his monologue. “We are in a time when simple events could change everything. The Commonwealth is nearing a point of dissolution because of the Davion question and this war. Were something to happen to the Archon, the social upheaval could destroy the Commonwealth. Neither of us wants to see that happen.

  “You, Alessandro, still hold considerable sway within the Commonwealth. Unfortunately, your age calls into question your ability to create a government that could stabilize the Commonwealth. This is not a concern in my case. Though we both know you would do your best, I submit that your age is not in your favor in this area.”

  Frederick tried to smile beneficently, but his craving for power distorted the expression. “It is time, Uncle, for you to pass the mantle of leadership to me. I require from you a pledge of support so that the Commonwealth we both love can continue, despite the grave mistakes made by the Witch. It is now time for my generation to regain control of the Commonwealth, and it is your duty to support me.