Heir to the Dragon

by Robert N. Charrette

  Theodore's finger had been increasing its pressure on the Nambu's trigger while he struggled with his thoughts. Honor overcame rage, but only in time for Theodore to redirect his aim. The Nambu boomed, obscenely loud within the confines of the room.

  The slug slammed Frederick in the side of the head. The Duke jerked backward, toppling to the floor. His free hand pawed feebly at his wound, smearing the blood. Then, with a sudden shiver, the Duke went limp.

  Theodore took a half-step forward, afraid his decision to spare Frederick had been too late. Blood gushed from the Lyran's fingers to foul the elaborate pattern of the carpet where he lay. Theodore let out a sigh when he saw that Frederick still breathed.

  Guards exploded into the room. Eyes wide and weapons ready, they searched for any danger to the Prince. Reassured by Theodore's ready weapon and obviously uninjured condition, they subsided into cautious watchfulness. Three slung their weapons in preparation for removing the Lyran. Their manner indicated that they assumed Frederick to be dead. Theodore halted them with a raised hand.

  "Send for the Brotherhood physician." He holstered his pistol. When the confused guards were slow to respond, he snapped, "Quickly!"

  Two guards collided in the doorway in their haste to do his bidding.

  The doctor arrived to find Theodore attempting to stanch the flow of blood. Surrendering his patient to the expert, Theodore stood back and watched. After a few minutes, the doctor stood up. "There is no more that I can do here," he announced blandly. "He must be taken to the infirmary."

  "See to it," Theodore ordered sharply, pointing to a pair of guards. He turned to the physician, who flinched back from him. Feeling the tightness of his facial muscles, Theodore realized how grim must be his countenance to make the other man react so. "Your prognosis, Doctor-san."

  "The man should live," the physician began tentatively. "Though he might not wish to. I am not sure how much damage there is to the brain. There is only so much that I can do."

  "I understand. Domo arigato, Doctor-san."

  The physician bowed and left the room hurriedly. The guards, sensing Theodore's mood, followed him out. "An eye," Theodore mused aloud to the empty room. He remembered a snatch of a Germanic legend in which the deity Wotan had traded an eye for wisdom. An odd trade, eyesight for insight.

  "I shall see that you are treated well while you are in Kurita hands, Frederick Steiner," Theodore vowed. "Though I have closed one of yours, you have opened my eyes and I am grateful.

  "You have pointed out what I have chosen to ignore for far too long. Being a simple warrior, even a buso-senshi, is not enough. Likewise, it is insufficient to be a good field commander. I am the heir to my clan and to the Draconis Combine. I must be more than an ordinary samurai.

  "For the honor of my clan and for my own honor, I swear to become all that I must. I will do whatever is required. The Dragon must triumph!"

  BOOK 2

  Tenacity

  36

  Kanzijankin Reserve, Deber City, Benjamin

  Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine

  10 January 3030

  "Cousin!" Theodore called as he rose from his cross-legged seat on the greensward. Even where he stood within the shadow of the trees, Constance Kurita could see the pleasure on his face. His mood was far different from the one that had ruled him the last time they'd met together. That had been the day Takashi banished his son to the Legion of Vega.

  She was as happy as her cousin. It was too long since they'd been able to enjoy each other's company. But Constance was conscious of her dignity as head of the Order of the Five Pillars, and she maintained her steady pace. Showing haste to meet Theodore would set a poor example for the half-dozen Adepts who accompanied her. Once, she would also have been concerned at how smoothly she walked over the undulating ground of the Kanzijankin Reserve. Today she glided comfortably, her skirts smooth and undisturbed by her step. Her saffron kimono was set off by the red robes of the jukurensha like a goldfinch among cardinals.

  Drawing nearer, Constance was surprised to see the scar that ran from Theodore's central forehead down to the outer edge of his left eyebrow. He had not mentioned it in his letters, nor had Tomoe spoken of it during her short debriefings at the hidden villa where trusted Pillarines oversaw the upbringing of Hohiro and Omi. The scar marked him as a mature warrior, even more than the Katana Cluster he had been awarded in 3028. Nor was the scar the only mark the war had left on him. She noted his thinness. Any trace of fat had long ago surrendered to the rigors of the field. While his increased bodily strength was easily visible, her practiced eye also noted something more intangible in his stance. Gone was the cockiness and brash arrogance of youth, replaced by an assurance of strength and confidence of position.

  Seeing Theodore now, she had no doubt that he was a samurai, and a strong one. She wondered how Takashi could have doubted the reports that his son had destroyed so many enemy 'Mechs. The Combine had needed a hero in those dark days of the Steiner offensive when so many planets were threatened by the invading forces. Lost in his obsession with Wolf's Dragoons, the Coordinator had approved the award, but he had confided to Constance that he was sure the numbers were inflated by toadies hoping to flatter Takashi's own vanity. Takashi had left the Katana Cluster awards ceremony to Warlord Cherenkoff of Dieron. He had refused to see the son who had for months communicated with his father only through the routine battle reports of a field commander to the Coordinator. Takashi's actions, or rather his lack of them, had only fueled the bad feeling between them. Father and son had not seen one another since the confrontation on Luthien almost five years ago.

  Since that painful day, the relationship between Takashi and Theodore had remained static. Not so the universe around them. Even before the war broke out, a series of events had occurred to plunge the Combine into turmoil. Warlord Samsonov of the Galedon District had bungled the attempt to retain Wolf's Dragoons, and had failed even more miserably to execute the contingency plan that called for the Dragoons' destruction. The result was that several fine DCMS formations were mauled or destroyed in battles with the mercenaries as they escaped to Davion space. Enraged, the Coordinator had ordered Samsonov's execution. The cowardly Samsonov had bolted for the Periphery, taking officers and men from his Fifth Galedon Regulars with him. The ISF had managed to hide the disgrace from the news media, promulgating a story of Samsonov's assassination by a member of Wolf's Dragoons and the seppuku of the Warlord's inner circle of officers who had been shamed by their failures. Constance believed that even the frightfully efficient intelligence apparatus of House Davion had been taken in by the tale.

  To replace the missing Samsonov in Galedon, Takashi had transferred Warlord Kester Hsiun Chi from Pesht. That competent officer had found it difficult to restrain his new district's warriors from pursuing a blood feud against Wolf's Dragoons. The war-within-a-war against those mercenaries had crippled efforts along that section of the Davion front until Chi finally managed to assert himself and coordinate efforts with Warlord Shotugama in the neighboring Benjamin District. Despite that, the Combine forces made little headway. Not even Takashi's waking from his dream of revenge and taking direct interest in the Davion front had been enough. There were few successes.

  In what Constance believed to be an error in judgment, Takashi had filled the gap in the quiet Pesht District by naming her father, Marcus Kurita, its Warlord. Certainly, Takashi could not afford to have the ambitious Marcus waiting for an opportunity to strike at the Coordinator's back, but making him a Warlord again was dangerous. Yet the move had taken Marcus from close proximity to the Coordinator's person, and intrigue on Luthien had shown a dramatic decrease since his transfer to Pesht. Knowing that units of Pesht Regulars had gone to aid the fighting in the Rasalhague District worried Constance. Rasalhague had been her father's old power base.

  The removal of Marcus as head of the Otomo bodyguards had rendered moot the putative cause of Theodore's exile. The way should have been clear for h
im to step into the traditional post of Heir-Designate. But then the war had begun, and Takashi breveted a little-known Tai-sa, intensely loyal to the Coordinator but a cipher in imperial politics, to the office. There had been no word from Theodore on the issue. He had no time to worry about family quarrels and empty honors.

  That would change soon. As would so very much else.

  Signaling her monks to remain at the edge of the trees, Constance continued on alone to where Theodore stood waiting. They exchanged bows.

  "What is the news that you could not send by messenger?" he asked.

  "The war is over," she stated simply.

  Theodore froze, lids shuttering his eyes to a narrow, suspicious glare, but Constance ignored it. "My agents on Tharkad report that Archon Steiner has called off the Commonwealth's offensive," she went on calmly. "She plans to consolidate her gains and concentrate reserves on contested worlds. The DCMS's counterattacks have proven too strong for the Lyrans. All indications are that she has advised her Davion allies to do likewise."

  "This is unexpected news." Theodore's voice was carefully neutral. He turned half-away, fingering the edge of his battle jacket in a gesture that Constance knew well from media footage of the warrior in the field. "Your Order has provided me with invaluable intelligence throughout the last six years. Often your assessment was more reliable than the ISF's. Don't think me ungrateful or that I doubt your Order's abilities, Constance, but can you be sure? There's been no hint on the front and no comparable reports from the ISF. The Coordinator's order to cease our own offensive activities should have strengthened the enemy's resolve."

  "My sources are impeccable."

  "So ka."

  "The river of Steiner resources runs deep, Cousin, but the pool of their resolve is shallow," Constance said. "Their Davion allies are made of sterner stuff, but they lack the resources, and the ComStar Interdiction has crippled their economy. The alliance between the two Houses is still young; they are not unified. Like us, they have been stretched to the breaking point. They are incapable of further offensive action."

  "What more do they need to take?" Theodore asked incredulously. "The Lyran armed forces now garrison more than fifty of our worlds. My Operation Contagion was blunted by treachery, and we have gained but two of their planets. So far, we have not done well. But I was so close ... most of the units along the front were taking orders from me. Even Warlord Sorenson acknowledged my command.

  "We had hope of prevailing against the Lyrans, at least. Against Davion, the Dragon seems impotent. Cherenkoff still squats in his bunker awaiting a mythical Davion attack while he mounts 'major assaults' that are little more than raids. Shotugama and Chi have been active, but we have gained little—a few insignificant rimward worlds and the recapture of the systems in the Galtor Thumb. Since my diligent father took command there, we have had nothing more than increased casualties all along that border. With Hanse Davion focused on the Liao offensive, we should have been able to do much more. And I could have done more, if allowed to." Theodore shook his head ruefully.

  "Despite their propaganda about Tikonov and St. Ives becoming independent states, Davion now rules most of Liao space. Hanse Davion has gotten most of what he wanted. The Capellan Confederation is crippled, ready for Davion's coup de grace. The political balance has taken a drastic shift. With Liao out of the equation, Hanse Davion is one step closer to becoming First Lord of the Inner Sphere."

  "Closer he may be," Constance agreed, "but even the mighty war machine of the Federated Suns is not unlimited. It grinds to a halt, its communication and transport capabilities stretched beyond usefulness."

  "We face only a temporary lull," Theodore warned. "I expect that it'll be longer than that of last spring, but hostilities haven't ended, despite the sanctimonious words of the Steiner and Davion rulers. Hanse Davion has unveiled his true intent to secure rulership of the Inner Sphere for himself and his descendants. The Fox will be looking for us next. As soon as he is able to move, he will be at our throat. He will harness his new gains to his purpose and recover enough of his losses—in about five years, I'd say. He won't wait longer, because he will fear our own recovery."

  Constance flinched at the fire in Theodore's eyes.

  "How can you be so sure?"

  Theodore smiled, a sudden flash of light in the darkness of his intensity. "Now you question my veracity. I'm as sure as any commander can be without being inside his opponent's head. I read his mind and will in his actions, and I discern his intent behind the words he speaks. I learn what he teaches by example. But most important, I am not blinded by my obsessions." Theodore clasped his hands behind his back and looked up into the sky. "I am not the only one who sees the Fox's greedy designs. Many others are concerned as well."

  "You mean ComStar?"

  "So you know that I have received a courier from the new Precentor," Theodore commented, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise.

  "Only that a messenger arrived," Constance admitted. It was best not to give Theodore unwarranted expectations of the intelligence-gathering capability of the O5P. "I have no knowledge of the message."

  "Primus Myndo Waterly wishes to meet with me."

  This was startling news. ComStar always professed neutrality in the affairs of the Inner Sphere. Yet ComStar agents had contacted Theodore eight months ago, warning him that they were about to interdict House Davion's interstellar communications. After discussing the news with Constance, he had decided to pass the information on to Subhash Indrahar in the hopes that the Coordinator would make better use of it if he believed the warning had come through the ISF. Though ComStar had asked for nothing at the time, Constance's instincts had told her that the followers of Blake would one day expect something in return for their timely revelation.

  "Do you think that ComStar wishes payment for their warning about the interdiction of Davion?" she asked. "Or do they want you involved in peace negotiations?"

  "Both," he replied. "But I think there's more to their agenda. They sent Waterly's replacement as Precentor Dieron, Sharilar Mori, as their messenger. A member of the First Circuit governing board is too high a functionary to serve as a mere courier."

  Constance arched her brows at the messenger's name. That did put a different cast on the situation. Theodore was certainly correct in his assessment that ComStar had a very serious interest in the matters at hand. The new leadership of ComStar seemed to wish a larger, more active role for their organization. They would have to be watched closely.

  "ComStar appears to be moving out of the shadows," she commented.

  "It'll make little difference. They're weak, weaker than they would have us believe. Their communications interdiction wasn't enough to stop the Davion warmongers. The Federated Suns and their Steiner lackeys continued with their war of conquest."

  "The alliance did have its 'pony express,' " Constance reminded him.

  "Such a chain of JumpShips is very expensive, and too limited in the planets it can reach. By itself, it wouldn't have been enough to provide the communications needed by such a far-reaching military operation. They must have had other methods of communication."

  "Do you mean the black boxes your Kowalski has been studying?"

  "Kowalski-san is sure they are communications devices."

  Theodore looked away and up into the cloudless sky. "We must learn the secret of the black boxes and duplicate them. I wish you to lend some of your Order's technicians to the task."

  "That will not please ComStar. It threatens their monopoly."

  "It is already threatened by the waning of their philosophical influence. Their order's position and prestige have been steadily weakening in the Federated Suns. Given that, I think that an Inner Sphere unified under the Davions sun-and-sword will disturb ComStar more than the Combine's access to a limited interstellar communications ability. We'll need that technology and more if the Combine is to weather the storm that is to come."

  "Rest assured of the support of the Order of the Fiv
e Pillars. The Draconis Combine must remain strong."

  Theodore's dark brows arched over suddenly widened eyes. "From anyone else, I might take that as an incitement to overthrow the Coordinator."

  Frightened by his perception, Constance hastened to cover herself. She laughed lightly. "From another, it might be so. But I am the Keeper of the House Honor, and Kurita's spiritual well-being is in my hands. Despite Takashi-sama's recent ... ah ... excesses, we must not divide the clan. Civil war at this time would destroy the Combine."

  "Indeed it would. But you have not denied that the Coordinator should be replaced."

  Constance was taken aback. Over the years, she had learned to perceive the hidden intents underlying courtly speech. In the chaos of the war, Theodore must have had his own revelation. This was not the young man who had blustered before his father. Theodore had, indeed, grown in more than body.

  "You have done much to save the body of the Dragon," she said, still trusting to courtly speech. "Now you must fight to save its heart."

  "So ka," Theodore said with a nod. "Though it cost me my soul, that is my intent."

  37

  Izumi Shoin, Shandabbar, Awano

  Benjamin Military District, Draconis Combine

  10 January 3030

  Moonslight flooded the courtyard of the monastery with harsh, cold brightness. Hoarfrost sparkled from the metal roof decoration and the gilding of the great arches. Alone and stately on its platform in the center of the yard, the great temple bell hung in its swath of glittering ice crystals.

  Dechan Fraser's breath expelled in a steamy huff of surprise as his companion strode out into the open yard. Hours of slinking through the city and surrounding suburbs on their way to the monastery, and now the armored man just walked out into the open as though he owned the fief. Dechan shook his head in wonderment, and followed. From past experience, he knew that his companion sensed somehow when there were no watchers to mark his passage.