LE5665 - Freebirth, page 18
I hate sitting here, hate having to look up at him. I can see his damn earwax, for Kerensky's sake. I'd point it out to him, but he'd probably order me to dig it out.
Howell had just called the assembly to order. His warriors were slow to obey the command, milling about and looking surly. Howell had to stand and bellow for them to take their seats. Even then, there was a great deal of grumbling among the seated warriors.
Something's wrong here. These aren't the Smoke Jaguars of legend. A Jag is, at the very least, obedient and respectful. Rough, yes. Cruel, yes. But at bottom they are disciplined warriors who follow rules and respect traditions. Not disrespectful and insolent like these warriors. Howell is losing his hold over them. And he knows it, I can see it in his eyes. He is looking for a way to regain control. He should take them in hand, make them respect him. But he just sits and glowers. That is his main problem, sitting. He sits in his quarters and downs more and more of those brouhahas. Sits on his throne, letting his commanders revile him.
Howell sat and stared at the gathering of warriors without speaking, and perhaps it created some discomfort because the din they were making diminished. Even when the room was quiet, he continued to stare fiercely for a while, then said in a controlled but loud voice, "Assembled warriors, for now we will dispense with ceremony. I know you all have much on your minds. That is the reason I have called this meeting. I want you to speak freely. I wish to hear your complaints."
At first there was chaos, many voices babbling at once. Howell sat back on his cushioned chair and watched them. His hands clenched and unclenched.
That hand clenching, it's a tic that comes only when he's agitated. Sometimes it's the only way to tell that he is agitated. Listen to me. I'm even thinking like a servant, noting and cataloging the master's habits. It's been barely a week that I've had to put up with this, but I don't know how long I can go on living this fake life. Sentania, Wherever you are, let's make things happen. And where are you? What if her real purpose is to make a fool of me? What if she intends never to come back, leave me here to rot in my own self-disgust?
Howell raised his hand. The grumbling voices quieted. Then Star Colonel Logan Wirth came forward, urged on by the others.
"With all due respect, Galaxy Commander, we cannot proceed with this assembly, we cannot speak openly, as you command—not with that freebirth present."
He pointed at Horse, who rose from his stool and took a threatening stance. "If you have something to say," he shouted angrily, "say it to me directly, savrashri?"
Logan rushed toward the stage, and Horse also moved forward a few steps, ready to meet him with his fists.
Howell grabbed Horse's arm and held him back, while other warriors did the same with Logan. Apparently a brawl was not allowed to break out during a warrior's assembly.
Howell stood and spoke in his command voice: "You forget that Horse is a Smoke Jaguar now. He has taken the oath in your presence."
"That may be," Logan called out. "But he is not a warrior and he is a freebirth. We do not wish him to taint a gathering of trueborn warriors."
"I have ordered him here, though he is present in a purely subservient role. You challenge my decision, Logan?"
"With all respect, I do."
"Then you must challenge me. You do, quiaff?"
"Aff."
"Then let us settle this in a Circle of Equals. Your choice of combat mode?"
As Logan opened his mouth to respond, Horse interrupted the proceedings with a jade falcon War cry. Intended to duplicate the sound of a swooping jade falcon, at least within the limitations of the human voice, the cry was one he had learned during cadet training. It began with a screaming sound that rose in pitch, men broke into a series of five whoops, followed by a descending shriek. He bellowed it at the top of his voice. The cry silenced the warriors and left Logan with his mouth still open.
As Horse finished the cry, he was astonished by how good it had made him feel. He had not let loose with a falcon scream, outside of combat, since he was a cadet. At that time it had signified an excess of good feeling, sometimes brought on by the defeat of an opponent.
Horse addressed Howell, turning his back on Logan.
"I am the insulted one here, Galaxy Commander, I respectfully request the opportunity to mangle this surat in a Circle of Equals. I believe it to be my right."
Some warriors broke out into raucous laughter, while others shouted angrily.
"You cannot even step into a Circle of Equals," one warrior called out, and another shouted, "No freebirths in any Circle of Equals!"
"Freebirth!" screamed a third. "You may be Smoke Jaguar, but you are not a warrior."
"In my life I have won more battles than you have dreamed of, whelp." Many warriors protested, but Howell held up bis hand, then gestured to Horse that he might continue. Horse knew him well enough to see he was enjoying the trouble he had provoked. "I am not a warrior among you, it is true, but I am willing to take on this entire roomful of warriors within the Circle, one by one if you wish. You are failures and old-timers, sent to the scrap heap where you can do no harm, away from the real action of warrior life!"
The entire roomful of warriors suddenly seemed to surge toward the stage as one person, but again Howell stopped them.
"Galaxy Commander, I petition you to allow me to engage this warrior in an honor duel," Horse continued, gesturing angrily toward Logan Wirth. "And, after that, I will take on any others who wish to test the mettle of a freeborn warrior!"
It took a full minute for Howell to get the room quiet, to stop his warriors from killing Horse right on the spot.
"Horse," Howell said, in regal voice, "you are correct in stating that you are the injured party in this dispute. However, my warriors are correct in refusing to fight you, as you are neither a Jaguar warrior nor a member of the warrior caste. As a prisoner, and especially a freeborn prisoner, it would be dishonor for us to allow you into a Circle of Equals. To put it simply, you are not equal."
Howell looked around the large room. Satisfaction showed on the faces of the Jaguars, too smug a satisfaction for Horse's taste. "However, there is another custom that may be applied to these circumstances, if all will agree to an unorthodox procedure. A Khan has the right and privilege to name a warrior to fight for him within the Circle. It is a custom that the highest-ranked officer of a large military unit may also occasionally invoke. Star Colonel Logan challenged me first, an act of sheer audacity when directed at a commanding officer. Still, the Circle of Equals has been designed to achieve order and harmony in unusual situations."
Now the warriors were confused. Some began to mutter among themselves, while others called out insults against Horse.
"You all honor my right of command, quiaff?" Howell said. "That command includes the privilege of naming individuals for a particular duty and endowing that person with the rank necessary to accomplish it."
"What are you trying to say, Galaxy Commander?" demanded Logan, whose wrath had increased so much his face was a bright red.
"This was once called naming a champion. For this occasion I am selecting a champion. Horse, I give you the temporary rank of Mech Warrior. No matter what rank you enjoyed in the Jade Falcons, this is more than you deserve as a Smoke Jaguar and a freebirth. Do you accept the role of champion, MechWarrior Horse?"
"Aye, Galaxy Commander," Horse growled.
"And know this: MechWarrior is a rank I will take away from you after the Circle of Equals, but with the rank comes the duty and privilege of defeating Star Colonel Logan in my name."
"I am eager for it."
"Even if we accept this logic," Logan called out, "how can I fight a freebirth within the honorable confines of a Circle of Equals? It is degrading, insulting. And it has no meaning. The Circle of Equals is an honor duel."
"Are you afraid of me then?" Horse shouted.
Logan leaped onto the stage and grabbed Horse by the neck before Horse could react, then began to squeeze. For moments Horse could not breathe, but patiently, adeptly, he gradually broke Logan's grip and forced the man's arms far apart while he head-butted him. Logan stumbled backward, off the stage and into the arms of another warrior.
"That is just the first blow of our battle," Horse shouted. "I am taking you on without 'Mechs, without weapons. To the death, surat!"
Before Logan could attack again, Howell stepped between the two warriors.
"Enough," he said. "I am willing to stage this unorthodox Circle of Equals because we all need whatever meaningful exercise we can get. That is the issue. It is not one of rank, nor is it really a question of Horse's genetic origins. In this case it does not matter whether the Circle of Equals is sanctioned or not. The fight itself is necessary. Remember, Horse is a warrior who has won glory before all the Clans, and now we can show this hero what Smoke Jaguars are made of. If, indeed, we are worthy of the name of Smoke Jaguar."
The protests burst out again, but Howell's voice, made stronger by the excitement, carried over the din.
"Look at you. You are becoming a mob! This is not the Smoke Jaguar way. We are the most disciplined of Clans, the most aggressive, the most tenacious, quiaff? QUIAFF?"
The voices grew louder, but the sound had changed. There was in it a sense of renewal, a sense of purpose.
That certainly ups the ante, Horse thought. Now I not only fight a highly trained enemy, but Howell's put them all on a mission. Well, no worse than what I've faced before. And I always did savor a good challenge. Not only that, this will be good practice. Howell was right about that much.
Howell ordered everyone to reassemble in the parade ground adjacent to the genetics repository. The Jaguars quickly filed out of the room, slapping each other on the back and already congratulating themselves on what Logan would do to Horse.
When Howell and Horse were alone, Horse asked: "Why?"
Howell shrugged. "Perhaps just one of my whims. Logan needs a lesson and I would like to see him learn it. They all need a lesson and, while it disgusts me to see a freebirth provide it, this Circle of Equals will reestablish order within this command. No matter how it goes, I can gain from it. The defenders of Huntress may never have to fight a major battle, but it could come and we might not be ready.
"I must find a way to keep my warriors sharp. As much as you may hate us, your own sense of honor overcomes any resistance you might have to fighting for me."
Horse shook his head firmly. "I am fighting for myself, Galaxy Commander."
"Fine," Howell said. "At any rate, however this Circle of Equals turns out, I will be satisfied. If you win, Logan and the others will see that I am right in trying to teach them discipline. If Logan wins, well, nothing may be changed, but at least we Jaguars will have the satisfaction of seeing a bit of freebirth scum shown his worthlessness, and that can only help raise the morale. Not a bad decision on my part, quiaff?"
"It is disgusting."
"Oh, well, but it is going to happen, quiaff?"
"Aff. I am eager to fight Logan. I am eager to fight anyone."
"You do have the sound of a warrior in your words."
"More than just the sound," Horse said. Then he turned and began moving toward the door, so eager he could not help but break into a run. Close behind came Russou Howell, running after him.
22
Parade Ground, Mount Szabo
Lootera, Huntress
Kerensky Cluster, Clan Homeworlds
22 April 3059
As Horse lay on the ground, staring up first at the smoke jaguar carved into the mountain, then twisting his neck to view the pyramid of the genetics repository, it struck him that most of Smoke Jaguar life on Huntress revolved around these works. Ceremonies and rituals, bravery and honor, honor duels and fights—they all took place in the shadows cast by the jaguar and the towering statues of BattleMechs.
Horse was on his back, struggling to catch his breath, due to a lucky but wicked punch to the stomach administered by Logan. From his fallen position, Horse had just kicked Logan backward, but the other man had quickly scrambled to his feet and was walking, almost strolling, to where Horse lay.
Horse did not feel particularly like standing up or even moving at all. This Logan put up quite a fight. He used every part of his body skillfully and efficiently, arms and legs, elbows and knees, kicks backward and forward, head-butting, head between two fists smashing, forearm slamming, ear and nose pulling, biting, spitting, bumping and shoving, leaping and colliding. Horse was able to answer each blow, counter each move, but as the fight lengthened along with the shadows, he realized he was tiring.
I shouldn't be surprised that he is fighting so fiercely. He is like me. We both have our own missions. Overwhelming missions. Perhaps I should have selected some kind of weapon as the mode of this contest. I just thought a free-swinging, no-holds-barred fight made more sense when both fighters were propelled by anger. What if I was wrong?
Even as the doubts rushed through his mind. Horse was springing up to meet Logan's assault. Logan took one big jump and used the momentum from his landing to leap upward. He virtually flew toward Horse. Horse ducked under the leap, twisted sideways, and shoved his right fist into Logan's abdomen. The man's legs flailed as he hit the ground to Horse's left. Groaning, Logan rolled away, his body rotating three times before he gathered himself into a threatening crouch, only to realize that Horse was not coming toward him but was standing motionless near the center of the Circle.
The Jaguar warriors, gathering tensely around the Circle, seemed to alternate between euphoria and despair. They cheered their comrade every time he seemed to prevail, but their voices faltered whenever Horse took the advantage. Then they rallied with more raucous cheers as Logan seemed once more on the verge of victory.
Horse glanced around the Circle. The one silent individual, standing a bit apart from the rest, was Russou Howell. His arms were crossed, his body relaxed, and he looked very satisfied with the progress of the fight. As he had said, he could not lose, no matter how this Circle of Equals turned out. Howell seemed to be enjoying it as some kind of entertainment.
Logan slowly came out of his crouch. When he straightened, he winced slightly. No wonder. He and Horse had inflicted so much pain on each other that both were suffering multiple aches.
Logan gestured toward Horse. "This is no Circle of Equals as long as you are in it, freebirth, but I can see that you might once have been a worthy warrior in your better days. Your proximity to old age has not slowed you down, it seems. I must speak the truth, no matter how difficult—and the truth is that you have fought well and bravely. Nothing more can be gained from this fight. You have won my respect, but you cannot take my honor from me because you are neither trueborn, nor a warrior. No more can be accomplished here because this is not a true Circle of Equals. Come, let us put aside our differences and walk from this Circle together."
Horse sensed that this was no trick, that Logan meant what he said. With his muscles aching, and his head a bit dazed, he was tempted to accept the man's offer of a draw. He could walk through the edge of the Circle of Equals, the Smoke Jaguar warriors clearing a path for him, and he could go back to his quarters above Howell's office, where a decently comfortable bed awaited him, and he could drop off into a curative sleep. At this moment, standing near the center of the Circle, he could almost sense the dreams of his village that would come to him.
It was tempting.
He glanced at Howell, who gave a slight nod. Horse could walk out of the Circle right now. Tempting. But not possible.
He was Jade Falcon and could not quit. They might say he was not their equal and thus a fight within a Circle of Equals proved nothing, but he neither granted nor accepted quarter in any battle. Especially not from a Smoke Jaguar.
"No," he said quietly and tensed his body. He would not attack Logan first. He would await Logan's next move.
Logan again used his phenomenal leaping ability. It was as if 'Mech jump jets were attached to his legs. The leap was high and his legs were already executing a kick. But something—fatigue or a miscalculation—put the kick off-line. Horse was grateful for that, since his own weariness made his move to dodge sideways too slow. The kick would have connected and Horse might have had his brains oozing out his ears. Instead, the leg just missed Horse, who was quick enough to grab Logan's leg at the thigh, and swing Logan around a half-rotation. He let go of the leg, and Logan smashed head-first into the ground. As his body settled, his head lifted for a moment, then he passed out. Horse came to him and kicked him in the side to make sure he was not feigning.
Glancing around, he was not surprised by the fury on most of the Jaguar faces surrounding him. But they were also shocked into silence and stood staring at their fallen comrade.
Horse was about to claim victory when Logan came to and reacted instinctively, grabbing Horse's leg. But the grab was weak and Horse was able to squirm out of it.
Logan got to his knees. "I will kill you, freebirth scum," he muttered. Springing to his feet with surprising agility, he rushed at Horse. Catching Horse off-guard, he landed several punches to his face and body.
Horse went nearly berserk at this. Screaming, he repelled Logan's next blows, and then himself began raining blow after blow at the other man's bruised face and body.
Seizing Logan by the neck, he used all the strength he had to squeeze. Logan's arm went limp and his eyes closed.
Horse released the hold just before Logan might have died. The man staggered a step, then fell into Horse's open arms. Lifting the body onto his shoulders, Horse glared at the onlookers, then began running toward the edge of the Circle. A pair of warriors ran at him, but he pushed each away with his free arm, without substantially breaking the pace of his dash toward the genetic repository.
