Though Theodore's words were subtle, his meaning was crystal clear. I had seen the reports about the spies who attempted to steal our secrets. I had seen the results of the Capellans' raid. Since first arriving in the Inner Sphere, the Dragoons had fought in turn for each of the Great Houses, and in doing so, we had fought against each one as well. And by hiding our Clan origins, we had lied to the leaders of the Inner Sphere for decades. They could not trust us now, no matter how open we seemed. History has shown that what a Successor Lord does not trust, he considers an enemy. Outreach made a tempting target—so small, compared to the power of the leaders of the Inner Sphere, and so full of technological loot. We knew they envied our resources. History had also shown a distressing tendency for the lords of the Inner Sphere to take what they wanted if they thought they could get away with it. As Theodore implied, the other Great House lords might sit by while he dismembered us, but more likely they would fight each other over the spoils. But that wouldn't help us; once the fighting began, no one would want us working for another. Any one of the Inner Sphere leaders might decide to destroy us first, no doubt hoping to gain the prize of our technologies for his own state.

The Wolf's expression went dark. "Luthien is vulnerable as well."

"You have not the strength to stand before the regiments I can gather here," Theodore said confidently.

"I wouldn't have to." The Wolf leaned forward and bared his teeth. "Do you know what a warship, a realwarship, can do from orbit? If not, go look up your records of the Clan attack against Edo. We came to the Inner Sphere with ships just like those of the Clans, but we have kept them hidden in the Periphery. We wanted no one to know who we were or where we came from, and the ships were too big a clue. Now that we're revealed as wolves, we no longer have need for sheep's clothing. We could bring those ships in; we needn't hide them any longer. The Dragoons have the power to obliterate your capital from orbit. What good are all your BattleMechs against that kind of threat?"

Theodore stood up and stalked away from the chairs. Taking up a position by the window, he turned slowly to face us again. His form was a dark shape against the dying light.

"The dragon might be wounded, but the wolf will die. Your force cannot be so great that you can stand against an entire star empire."

"Maybe not. But we'll bloody whoever tries."

"You would violate the Ares Conventions by using your warships against a planet?"

The Wolf's face remained impassive. "I will defend my people with whatever means I have to hand."

"If you used such ships, you would be outlawed."

"A small price, and one I have paid before." The Colonel settled back in his chair. "Are you willing to call my bluff?"

"Yes."

Theodore's reply brought silence. There was conviction in his voice that could not be denied. The two men stared silently at each another, and I felt cold sweat trickle down my sides. If the Wolf was pushed to implement his threat, I doubted we would leave the palace alive. Theodore would have nothing to lose.

At last the Colonel asked, "Why?"

Drawing himself up, Theodore folded his arms across his chest. "I will see this madness ended. My realm has fought on too many fronts for too long. We have a grave enemy now, one who demands all our attention. That enemy is yours, too, if your talk on Outreach was more than wind." I think he smiled slightly, but I couldn't be sure. "Would Minobu Tetsuhara have denied himself access to half the forces of his enemy merely to soothe dead grief?"

"That was low."

"If it was, I apologize, Colonel Wolf." Theodore bowed. "Your threat to Luthien was unbecoming of a warrior as well."

Slowly, the Colonel stood. He sketched a slight bow.

"We are practical men, Colonel Wolf. We each know that the other will do anything to safeguard his people. I gave up a fifth of my realm to save the rest. At the time, I thought it necessary, but the wheel turns, as it always does. Now the Clans have come and I see that the Combine's sacrifice may have been in vain. The invaders threaten to take the rest of the Combine away from me. If the Combine falls, what then? Will the Federated Commonwealth be able to stop the invaders? Will Marik's Free Worlds League? Will you? Is the tired lure of revenge worth the gamble?"

Jaime Wolf was quiet for a long time. "I will think about what you have said, Theodore -san."

31

Dechan Fraser stopped down the street from the mansion that had been a reward from Theodore Kurita for loyal service. At first he thought his tired eyes were confused, tricked by the evening light. He recognized the mane and beard of gray, the short, compact silhouette. Though he had not worn one in years, he knew the Dragoon dress uniform as well. He could not be mistaken. This unexpected guest waiting by his gate was Colonel Jaime Wolf.

He had heard a rumor that the duel had been postponed, but he never imagined that Wolf would make a visit to Dechan Fraser part of his itinerary. Curious, confused, and not a little angry, Dechan walked up to his former commander. "Looking for someone?"

Wolf turned and glanced up at him. "Dechan, you're looking well."

Ignoring the offered hand, Dechan said, "Receiving visitors in the street is bad manners. Please, come in."

Dechan palmed the lock and, when the door opened, gestured that Wolf should precede him. The Colonel entered and gave his cloak to the servant who appeared, then disappeared just as silently. Dechan led him into the common room where the servants had prepared tea and a tray of small cakes. There was a third cup beside his and Jenette's; the servants had known the visitor was waiting.

"I hope I'm not troubling you," Wolf said in pale imitation of Kuritan politeness. He looked for a chair and, finding none, knelt awkwardly in the Kuritan fashion.

"Do itashimashite,"said Dechan, kneeling too. As he did, he realized how easily he had slipped into the formal role of host and begun speaking in Japanese. The Kurita style had become a part of his own: politeness hiding personal feelings to make all smooth and to save face.

Wolf took Dechan's response as a cue and continued his pleasantries in Japanese. He was quite fluent and his standard remarks sounded more sincere. Dechan poured tea for himself and his guest. They spoke of the weather and Wolf's trip, but a disquiet underlay the formal conversation. Finally Wolf broke off the polite noise and said, "Will Jenette be here soon?"

" Hai. I would have expected her to be here already."

"Good. I wanted to talk to the both of you."

Seemingly satisfied, Wolf said nothing more. Dechan sat in the awkward silence, old pain gnawing at the shield of politeness. He reached for the kettle to refill his cup and misjudged. When his skin touched hot metal, he snatched his hand back. He wanted to suck on the burn, to cool it, but refused to show weakness before this man. Not now. Not after so long. Pent-up frustration burst forth in words.

"Why now? I had expected to hear something when you were last on Luthien."

If Wolf was surprised by the outburst, he didn't show it. Placing his cup carefully on the tray, he said, "We hadn't come to end the feud."

"But you fought for Kurita," Dechan accused.

"We were under contract to Davion."

Dechan shook his head in disbelief. "So a contract was more important than a blood feud."