"It seems you have just called for your own death, quiaff?"

"On the contrary. I said if Iwere a freeborn. You see, Star Colonel Pershaw, I am not freeborn. My birth is just as true as yours, and that of every trueborn here."

The murmur of the assembled warriors grew louder, as did its angry tone. Never in memory had a single warrior crammed so many insults into so few words. How dare this freebirth claim to be trueborn?

Kael Pershaw raised his hand to silence the warriors. He was certain now that something had affected Jorge's brain. Perhaps the battle had jarred some synapse, or perhaps the man's own inferior genetic strain had stirred up some chemical imbalance that had finally pushed him over the edge. Pershaw nodded toward his Personal Guard to come nearer so that they would be ready to pounce on Jorge if he started to run amok.

"I will disallow what you have said thus far if you will sit down and be silent, Star Commander Jorge. Your recent valor may have earned you a fraction of leeway, but it is now used up. Understand this: You may not compete for a Bloodname and may not put forth a claim."

"You have not been listening. I may make a claim. I am canister-born and sibko-bred, from the Mattlov-Pryde genetic line. My name is not Jorge; it is Aidan. Clan law permits me to compete for the Bloodname of Pryde, which was that of my genemother Tanya Pryde. She is a former Galaxy Commander whose exploits are well-documented in Jade Falcon annals."

Aidan's neck tingled, and he wondered if it was a reaction to the combined rage of the warriors gathered around him, most of whom looked as though they could kill him immediately.

That was not going to stop him, though. Without a pause Aidan began the story of his life on Ironhold, as cadet, as failed Trial participant, as successful freeborn qualifier.

* * *

Joanna was beside herself. The fool! Ter Roshak had warned him never to reveal his trueborn origins. Roshak had promised to kill Aidan if he ever confessed that Roshak had manipulated events to give Aidan a second chance at becoming a warrior. What stupidity could have made him claim the right to a Trial of Bloodright now?

Even as the thought crossed her mind, Joanna knew the answer to the question. How often did a warrior get a chance to earn a Bloodname? She knew from her own experience how few and far between were the opportunities. Aidan had probably been planning to make this claim for some time. Overall, the Blood-name of Pryde was a mixed one, with some good lines and some mediocre. This particular line, however, one of the twenty-five that had come down through the generations from its original holder, Aeneas Pryde, had been claimed two generations ago by a Jade Falcon hero named Teukros Pryde, and until recently by Ileana Pryde. It was a particularly noble and intrepid line, one for which only the best warriors could compete. In his announcement of the new Trial of Blood-right, Kael Pershaw had cited Ileana Pryde for her courage in backing her BattleMech against a high cliff wall and fighting off a succession of Snow Raven Clan 'Mechs in a fierce battle for territory on the planet York. Ileana had met her own death in that battle, he said, and thus did the Bloodname become available.

Her predecessor as nameholder, Teukros Pryde, had accomplished a list of achievements that was the envy of any warrior. Teukros Pryde had, in fact, killed many times to earn that reputation. And this Aidan, a true-born who had failed his Trial of Position because of an arrogant attempt to attack his three opponents simultaneously, who had to pose as a freebirth in order to become a warrior at all—what right had he to take his own tainted name into a struggle for such a proud Bloodname? Even in the unlikely event he won the name, his previous history would tarnish it even before he could ever serve it as warrior.

Listening to Aidan recite his history amid the incredulous expressions of his listeners, Joanna contained a rage that might have wiped out half the Jade Falcons assembled if she were to loose it. She knew she was far from the ideal of a Clan warrior. Though she had striven to be one all her life, her fierce animosities had too often consumed her when she should have been honing her skills instead. It was not just a matter of distaste for everyone she met. Had it been only that, her career as a warrior might have gone forward with more certainty. But, no, she hated everyone. Oh, she had experienced a few temporary alliances back in sibko days, but when those companions had flushed out of training, she had despised them for their inferiority. It was true that she had felt some respect for perhaps three commanding officers, but each had inevitably fallen in her esteem, whether because he did not fight hard enough, complain loud enough, or kill skillfully enough. She hated Nomad, too, but that at least was a cheerful hatred, one she rather enjoyed. Indeed, they would be back to exchange barbs as soon as he was well again.

There was probably no one in Clan Jade Falcon who hated as fiercely as Joanna did, nor any who hated as well.

Yet she knew that with a more balanced view of life, she might have won a Bloodname. She vividly remembered a recent attempt, when she had been one of the final contenders. In previous attempts, she had failed the Trial of Bloodright earlier, That was either her shame or an indication she was being saved for some later Bloodname prize. She could always hope for the latter. But at twenty-eight her time was running out. In the Clans, old warriors did not win Bloodnames, but usually ended up as volunteer cannon fodder in some battle diversion.

As she studied Aidan's calm in claiming the Pryde bloodline, she hated him more than ever. During the training years on Ironhold, she had sometimes believed that, of all that sibko, Aidan was her personal curse. Subsequent events had done little to change her thinking. If it were not contrary to the way of the Clans, she would have run up to him this very moment, her knife drawn to slit his worthless throat.

Kael Pershaw was rarely, if ever, at a loss for words, but right now he had not a clue what might come out of his mouth when, according to ritual, this Jorge/Aidan reached the end of his claim. He regretted not having Lanja near to send him the kind of signs and signals that had so often helped him render judgment. It was the first time Pershaw had thought of her since announcing her death to this piece of decaying matter speaking before him. He would not recall her again for some time.

Finally Aidan's speech came to an end.

"And that is the word of a trueborn warrior of the Jade Falcon Clan, direct, blunt, and true in every detail. My case is just. I would leave this duty to compete for the Aeneas Pryde Bloodname."

Aidan looked around at the others, as though they might suddenly affirm his claim by solemnly uttering, "Seyla," the ritual response of affirmation. No one spoke.

"What is your judgment, Star Colonel Kael Pershaw?" asked Star Captain Shan Zeke, who was performing the role of Loremaster. He looked as astonished as every other person in the gathering, except for Aidan and Joanna.

Kael Pershaw scrutinized the assembly, then shouted: "I cannot make a proper judgment unless someone steps forward to endorse the claim of this ... of this warrior."

When Horse immediately came forward, he looked every centimeter the freeborn he was. At least with him the warriors gathered here knew there would be no controversy about birth origin.

"I know this to be true, Star Colonel," Horse said. "I trained with Star Commander Aidan after he was transferred to my unit. I recognized him as a trueborn because I'd faced him in an earlier training exercise."