Warrior: riposte

by Michael A. Stackpole

  "What? What did he do?"

  Dan chuckled lightly. "He bowed."

  "Bowed?" Brother Keith shook his head as the aircar dropped down the last hillside and raced toward the towering mesa. "I think Mitchell's account is more believable."

  Dan smiled wryly. "There are times, Brother Keith, when I share your belief. Morgan made the Archer bow, and Yorinaga immediately stopped his attacks. The Warhammer executed a similar, yet deeper, bow, then straightened up and Yorinaga cracked his 'Mech's canopy."

  Brother Keith smiled. "That's when he threw out his two swords, the katana and wakizashi."

  Dan frowned. "That's not in Mitchell's book."

  Brother Keith shrugged. "I know, but I've seen the blades. Morgan has them hanging on his wall. Those blades are over three hundred years old, did you know?"

  Dan nodded absently. So Morgan did take the blades with him when he left. "Yorinaga ordered the Second Sword of Light to retreat. One Lieutenant dared broadcast a protest, suggesting that

  Yorinaga had been injured. Yorinaga destroyed the Lieutenant's 'Mech in a withering assault. Out of respect for their commander, the rest of the unit withdrew as commanded."

  "What about Yorinaga's death haiku?" the cleric asked as the red-rock mesa housing the monastery filled the aircar's view-screen and heralded the journey's end.

  Dan shook his head. "It wasn't a death haiku. I've heard it translated as:

  Yellow bird I see.

  The gray dragon hides wisely.

  Honor is duty.

  "The gray dragon is the Second Sword of Light. That's their regimental patch. The Yellow Bird is a bit of Draconian mythology . . . it's supposed to be the only enemy the Dragon knows. A lot of the analysts I've talked with since seem to think that Yorinaga saw, in Morgan, or the Kell Hounds, or the battle for Mallory's World, something that would destroy the Combine. He decided, at all costs, that he must withdraw from the fight and inform the Coordinator of what he had seen."

  Brother Keith nodded and slowed the aircar. He steered it toward an arched opening tall enough for even a ten-meter-high 'Mech to pass with ample headroom. As the aircar passed through the opening and into the mesa's hollowed and shadowy interior, the temperature dropped sharply from the sweltering heat of the desert. Brother Keith brought the aircar to a stop near the base of a stairway carved from the mesa's blood-red stone.

  The aircar's gull wing doors slid up and Dan peeled himself from the vinyl seat. When he straightened up, the MechWarrior towered over both Brother Keith and another, rounder, balding Brother who had arrived at the base of the stairs in time to greet both driver and passenger. Dan narrowed his eyes. Shave off twenty years, six or seven kilos, give him back his hair, and that guy'd be the spitting image of Hermann Steiner.

  The elder Brother extended his hand to the mercenary. "I am Brother Giles, Abbot of St. Marinus House. I bid you welcome, Hauptmann Allard. Ah, forgive me. You Kell Hounds use the term Captain, I believe."

  Dan nodded slowly. This is Hermann Steiner! Steiner was the man who had resigned his commission as Commander of the Second Royal Guards to keep those who supported his brother Alessandro from using him as a force against Katrina Steiner. So this is where he ended up. "Thank you for meeting me, Brother Giles. I would like to see Morgan Kell as soon as possible."

  The Abbot nodded gravely. "I understand, Captain Allard, but I wish to speak with you first. St. Marinus House is a sanctuary for MechWarriors who renounce the violence of their past." Brother Giles turned and waved Dan up the stairs. "Our community is named for a martyr who chose not to renounce God to win a promotion to the rank of centurion. Because the men who are here have come of their own free will, I attempt to shield them from the outside world."

  "I appreciate your concern, Abbot, but I would not have come all this way if it were not a matter of the utmost importance."

  When they reached the landing, the Abbot stepped around Dan and swung the door open for him. "I understand this, Captain, and that is why I sent a car for you. Morgan has not formally become a member of the community, and so my jurisdiction does not extend to him. Still—" the cleric shrugged—"I am concerned about his well-being and sanity."

  "Sanity?" Dan frowned.

  "Ah . . . Captain . . . perhaps that was not the precise word. But you have seen battle and death and you know how it can change a person—warp him or destroy him. Morgan has conquered many of the demons plaguing him, but there is still one he cannot control."

  Dan seated himself in the chair indicated by the heavyset cleric. "What are you talking about?"

  Brother Giles settled himself behind his desk. "Something still haunts Morgan Kell, Captain Allard." The former MechWarrior pointed out and up toward the sky. "Something waits for him out there. He's hidden here for eleven years and he's prayed every day to avoid it. Now, with your arrival, he no longer can."

  Dan felt suddenly cold. "What is waiting for him?"

  The Abbot pursed his lips and stared hard at the Kell Hound Captain. "I believe what he fears is the encounter with his own death."

  6

  Zaniah III

  Isle of Skye, Lyran Commonwealth

  22 October 3027

  In silence, Brother Giles and Daniel Allard rode the elevator to the top of the mesa. When the elevator doors opened, it was at half a level below the uneven, weathered surface. Brother Giles pointed toward a wide ramp curving up and around to the brilliantly lit exterior as waves of heat washed into the elevator.

  Dan stepped from the elevator and slowly walked up the ramp. How will I tell him? Yes, Patrick Kell died a hero, but is that any solace? Will he even care? Dan shivered, then ground his teeth in anger. You still care about your brother Justin, despite his defection. How could you expect less from Morgan?

  Dan rounded the ramp's corner and instantly spotted Morgan Kell. Tall and muscular, yet lean—wolf-lean—the ex-Mech Warrior stood with his back to Dan. He was clad only in a loincloth, the ends of which fluttered in the hot desert breeze, and the sunlight etched his muscles in sharp highlights and dark shadows. The deep bronze of his flesh hid all but the barest traces of scars earned in his career.

  The wind ruffled Morgan's long black hair and blew enough of it away from his profile to let Dan see that he wore a beard. Because the other man had his head bent forward in prayer, Dan did not speak. The wind, too, suddenly became quiet, no longer drowning out the sounds of Morgan Kell’s strong, even voice.

  "Soul of Christ, sanctify me," he said. "Body of Christ, save me. Blood of Christ, inebriate me. Water from the side of Christ, wash me. Passion of Christ, strengthen me. O good Jesu, hear me. Within Thy wounds hide me. Suffer that I not be separated from Thee. From the malignant enemy, defend me. In the hour of my death, call me, and bid me to come to Thee, that with Thy Saints, I may praise Thee for ever and ever. Amen."

  When Kell's head came up, Dan spoke softly, though he felt a shiver of awe. "Colonel Kell?"

  Morgan Kell was a big man but he turned gracefully. Despite the beard, Dan saw the same handsome face he remembered and the same wary look of cunning that had inspired fear in many an enemy over the years. He also saw the changes wrought in the man who once commanded the Kell Hounds. The surface changes—the wrinkles at the corners of Morgan's eyes and the streaks of gray shooting through his beard and hair—were ones he had expected. The other changes, though, startled Dan.

  He looks so peaceful, so much more restrained than before. Brother Giles was right. Morgan has changed. Dan stared into the other man's brown eyes and felt an uneasy roiling in his guts. He also looks haunted. . .

  A slow smile brought some animation to Morgan Kell's face. "You're Dan Allard." Kell's gaze flickered toward the patch riding on the left breast of Dan's tunic. "And still with the Hounds?"

  "Yes, sir." Dan straightened up and saluted. "It's good to see you, Colonel."

  Morgan awkwardly mimicked Dan's motion, but it was as though a salute were a gesture alien to him. He furrowed his brow. "I know why
you're here, Dan. It's him, isn't it?"

  Dan's mouth went dry. How can he know? All the Kell Hound staff agreed we shouldn't send him the news by message. We wanted someone who knew Patrick to deliver the news. Not some ComStar acolyte who didn't care.

  Morgan turned and clasped his hands behind his back, his silhouette strong against the western sky. "I knew this would happen some day. I knew it wasn't finished eleven years ago. Yet I've hoped and prayed this day would never come."

  Dan bowed his head. "You and the rest of the Kell Hounds, sir."

  Morgan turned back toward Dan. "Very well. When you return to the Abbot's office, tell him to give you the packet of messages I passed to him when I arrived. Then have him drive you into Starboro so that ComStar can send them out as soon as possible. I'll join you in a day and we'll ship out from there."

  What's going on here? Dan wondered. He doesn't seem at all sad about his brother's death. He shook his head. "Sir?"

  Morgan stiffened. "What didn't you understand? You don't believe I would forget him, do you? Yorinaga Kurita has returned.

  Our truce is at an end." Morgan looked at Dan. "Tell me . . . Where does Patrick have the Kell Hounds now?"

  Shocked, stunned, Dan stared blankly at Morgan Kell. "Colonel, Patrick Kell is dead!" Dan's hands balled into fists. "Yorinaga Kurita killed him. Patrick sacrificed himself to save Melissa Steiner and the rest of the Kell Hounds."

  "NO!" Long hair whipped back and forth as Morgan shook his head violently. "No! That was not supposed to happen. It was not supposed to happen that way!" He dropped to his knees, and except for a few strands pasted to his cheeks by hot tears, his long black hair shrouded his face. "I never would have let it happen!"

  Anger that Dan had kept buried for eleven years burst through the walls where he'd entombed it. "You'd never have let it happen, would you? You gave up all responsibility eleven years ago when you abandoned us." Dan stabbed a finger at Kell. "You more than abandoned us. You broke the Kell Hounds, then scampered off to this hellhole. No explanation, no apology. You just bolted and left us to pick up the pieces."

  Morgan looked up, agony threading his words. "I did what had to be done."

  Dan laughed. "Did you? You drove off two-thirds of the Kell Hounds. At your request, two full battalions left the regiment, but you never told any of us what you had said to make them leave like that. You reduced us from a regiment to a single battalion. Why didn't you tell us what was going on?"

  Morgan looked down. "You'd not have understood."

  "No?" Dan spat in disgust. "Let me help you understand what happened after you left, Colonel." He spoke the title with contempt, but Dan was beyond caring. "You'd recruited me straight out of the New Avalon Military Academy and I was so proud to be the Lieutenant in charge of a Recon Lance. But when you sent the others away, the whole structure of the Kell Hounds collapsed. Responsibility for the 'Mech company fell to me."

  Morgan straightened. "You flatter yourself. Patrick and Salome Ward were there, too."

  Dan shook his head incredulously. "How blind you must have been then. Unless too much time here has dimmed your memory, Salome Ward was more than a staff officer to you, Morgan. Hell, you two might have thought your romance was a secret, but everyone in the regiment knew about it. When you vanished without so much as a word, it crushed her. Sure, she was strong enough to keep on doing whatever had to be done, but she did it mechanically. It took a long time for her to find herself again."

  Dan narrowed his eyes and willed Morgan to melt beneath his fierce gaze. "Your brother—God! You've got no idea how much you hurt him. He believed that you had dissolved the regiment because you wouldn't trust him with so many men's lives . . ."

  "That's not it. . ." Morgan interrupted harshly.

  "I don't care what your reasons were, Morgan, that's what your brother felt. It ate away at him, and for the first three years after you left, he was always second-guessing himself. Then he just made up his mind to become the best damned battalion commander possible. He did that, Morgan, and I know he hoped you'd be proud of him."

  "I was. I was always proud of him."

  Dan snorted. "It's too late for that now, Morgan. Did you know how proud Patrick was of you? He never took the rank of Colonel. He remained a Lieutenant Colonel because, he said, you were the Kell Hound Colonel. All our contracts have a clause that allows you to break them whenever you decide to return to the unit. Hell, Patrick even refused offers from several other mercenary battalions that wanted to bring us back up to regimental strength by joining up, because he said that was your decision."

  Dan shook his head. "Do you know what we called it, Morgan, when you left? We called it 'The Defection.' Everyone who came into the Kell Hounds soon learned not to ask about the Defection. Your defection, Morgan, haunted Patrick even to his deathbed."

  Dan hesitated as a lump rose in his throat and tears filled his eyes. "You know what he said to me as he died? He said, 'Dan, tell him, tell Morgan I understand. Tell him I finally understand.' To the last, Morgan, to his very last moment, the Defection rode him and drove him."

  Morgan sagged forward, but held himself up on his two arms. Dan saw tears splash onto the red rock, but the dark stains evaporated almost as quickly as they appeared. He could sense the tension easing in Morgan's body, but felt no similar release of his long pent-up anger.

  Morgan straightened up and stared into Dan's cold blue eyes. "I accept your judgement of the evil I did to my brother and Salome. I await an accounting of the pain I have caused you, Daniel Allard."

  Morgan's words unlocked the anguish Dan had shut away during the Defection. "What pain you caused me . . ." He hung his head. "I thought you'd accepted me into the Kell Hounds because you believed I had value. You'd praised my performance in exercises and battles. I always kept my lance one step ahead of the enemy and did all the things I was supposed to do. I kept my people alive, and I thought you saw great potential in me."

  Dan laughed harshly and shook his head. "As people started to leave us, I began to notice that you'd selected the best and the brightest to be sent away. I believed you had a plan of some sort, that you had trusted only the elite with that plan. I waited and waited for you to come to me with a mission. When you left, and I found myself suddenly having to hold a mercenary battalion together, I hated you. I felt betrayed, and I felt unworthy. You made me doubt myself—that was the pain you caused me, Morgan, but it's nothing compared to what you did to Salome and Patrick. I recovered soon enough and held the Kell Hounds together just to spite you."

  Morgan rocked back onto his heels, hesitated, then stood in one slow, smooth motion. "I have much to atone for. I know that words alone cannot absolve me, but perhaps, in your case, they can help ease the pain." Morgan swallowed hard. "You were correct, in part, that I sent good and competent men and women away from the Kell Hounds during what you call the Defection. And I did, indeed, consider you very strongly for a most important part of that plan . . ."

  Dan frowned. "But?"

  Morgan exhaled slowly. "I saw you as too valuable to the Kell Hounds. No, I did not expect or envision or desire the effect that you say my leaving had on the Kell Hounds—especially for Salome and my brother. Had I suspected then what you tell me now, I would have found another way. I may have utterly underestimated the level of chaos, but I did know it would be a difficult time for the Hounds. With your youthful enthusiasm and fire and intelligence, I believed that you would be the kind of person who could hold the Kell Hounds together. With Patrick, Salome, and you as leaders, I knew the unit would attract the best possible MechWarriors and that the Kell Hounds would one day be powerful again."

  Dan stared at the half-naked, unkempt man across from him and knew that he was speaking the truth, however improbable his words might seem. Dan looked quizzically at Morgan. "Why didn't you tell us?"

  Morgan opened his hands and shrugged helplessly. "I couldn't. For the very same reasons that Patrick, Salome, and you were perfect to lead the Kell H
ounds, I could not tell you why I was fleeing or why I'd sent the others away. None of you are stupid, but you all tend to see action as the solution to most problems. In the situation that I saw, to act would have been to die."

  Dan shook his head. "I still don't understand why you couldn't have told us. We would have followed your lead."

  Morgan smiled. "Would you? If I had told you I must go away because of one man, would you have refrained from seeking him out and destroying him? I don't think so." Morgan sighed heavily. "Worse yet, Dan, I myself came only gradually to realize what I've just told you. When I first left the unit, my emotions, my hopes, dreams, and fears were a jumble. Intellectually, I could sort things out enough to act upon some of them, but emotionally, I felt as though I were drowning. I felt—I knew—that I would be condemning you all to death if I spoke my thoughts."

  Dan nodded slowly. "And all this has something to do with Yorinaga Kurita and the battle on Mallory's World?"

  "Yes." Morgan turned and stared out across the desert. "As long as he remained in exile, there was no danger. Now, despite the pain I caused, it appears that my precautions were worth the effort." Morgan fell silent for a moment, then shivered despite the heat and turned back to Dan.

  "You recall what I asked you to tell the Abbot?"

  Dan nodded. "To give me the messages for ComStar and to carry them to Starboro so they can be sent."

  Morgan smiled. "Yes. Add one thing more. Where are the Kell Hounds now?"

  "Northwind, Federated Suns. Our contract's with the Lyran Commonwealth, but we've been on Northwind since June because the Archon loaned us to Hanse Davion at his request. Salome is Acting Commander."

  Morgan nodded. "Good. Send her a message. Ask her to take the Kell Hounds to Thorin. She'll get further instructions there. Then wait for me in Starboro. We'll be shipping out in two days."