"I would not be a House Ward Leader if I did not mind the affairs of all Wards, would I?" Her brown eyes flashed impishly. "I warned Conal not to push himself as competition for Ulric. I told him I would publicly endorse Ulric if Conal became a contender for Ulric's seat. This would point up Conal as a divisive influence within House Ward— something that would make most Clanfolk uneasy."

She smiled at Phelan. "We Clanfolk like people who know how to take and follow orders."

Phelan shook his head. "That explains why they view me with apprehension."

"Oh, not so much as you think." Cyrilla sat back in her chair. "If the reports of your 'Mech exercises are accurate, it is true that you operate in an unorthodox manner. But you get results. As a people, we also appreciate and respect that. Our society does not particularly encourage individuality, but we are capable of recognizing and understanding its value."

Phelan looked down at where Ranna sat beside Natasha. "I wish my unorthodox methods would work better against Ranna. She is my bane."

"And as she is also your lover, she knows you better than the others with whom you must fight." Cyrilla tapped her left index finger against her lips as she reflected for a moment. "When faced with three-to-one odds, a MechWarrior would usually take up a defensive position and try to inflict as much damage as possible on anyone who came after him. He knows the other side will send their least experienced warrior first, then the next level of experience, and finally the best of their number. Your willingness to play hunter instead of hunted is a shock, as is your willingness to shoot at more than one opponent at one time."

The younger MechWarrior shrugged. "That is how we do things back home. Aside from some strange battles with Draconis Combine warriors, most combat is a semi-organized free-for-all. Up 'til now, the Clans have not seen much of our fighting style because your 'Mechs are so much better than ours. Now that I fight in a 'Mech on a par with yours, the Clan rules of battle do not function as effectively."

He let a smile brighten his face. "And I do not know if Ranna is effective against me in a battle just because she is my lover. Not only is she a good MechWarrior, but she has patience. That seems to be a quality many of your people lack. With generations of children being born in lab facilities every five years and a Warrior's slide to oblivion starting at forty-five years of age, a long-term view is not very common here."

"Ah, yes, the famed Kerensky vision." Cyrilla nodded. "Ulric has it, as do Ranna and all the Kerenskys since Aleksandr himself. It is something in the Kerensky bloodline. Freebirth! I have tried to get the Keepers of our Bloodline to arrange for its blending into the Ward line, but the Kerenskys seem reluctant to give us the genetic material we desire."

Cyrilla laughed lightly. "Actually, Natasha is without the Kerensky vision. She has ever been one for action now rather than later." Cyrilla pointed down toward where Natasha sat. "She is the only Kerensky with an unblooded aide. For a Kerensky to bring one to a Clan Council is almost as serious a breach of House honor as Natasha's conduct and language here."

From Cyrilla's smile, Phelan guessed that she did not find Natasha's conduct particularly shocking or heinous. "What is it with unblooded aides? Vlad is over there with Conal, and I see other young people I assume to be unblooded who are with individuals you point out as part of House Ward. I know enough of the Clans to understand that this is significant, but I have yet to puzzle out the true meaning."

"You do recall my saying that candidates for a Bloodname are selected by nomination from within the House, Quiaff?"

"Aff. Or by combat."

"Well, bringing an unblooded aide to the Clan Council, especially one convened to elect the Khans and the Loremaster, is an endorsement of sorts. It lets others see who an individual favors. Conal favors Vlad and I favor you."

Phelan bowed his head. "I am honored."

"And when the opportunity arises, you will honor me by winning a Bloodname."

"I hope to prove myself worthy of your support." Phelan chewed on his lower lip. "Why would it be a breach of honor for a Kerensky to bring an unblooded aide to a Clan Council meeting if everyone else does it?"

Cyrilla shrugged. "The Kerenskys are supposed to hold themselves above this political infighting. It is a tradition that began with Nicholas, but apparently, ends with Natasha. Those years in the Successor States have changed her, honed her to an edge that I think will cut away at the heart of the Clans."

"When she tests out as a Warrior, it will certainly start some tongues wagging, Quiaff?"

"Aff, in a very big way. If Natasha can regain status as a warrior, we will have to question the idea of retiring warriors at an age when they may not yet have reached their peak. And if you test out, we will have to question the superiority of our ways over those that shaped you."

"I will do my best to make you proud."

Cyrilla nodded. "I anticipate no problems. I have more confidence in your ability to win than I do in my ability to figure out what Conal is up to. I am beginning to think he has some plan in mind here."

Phelan frowned. "It seems obvious to me. He wants to defeat Ulric and become a Khan. His desire must have outweighed your warning to him."

"Perhaps that is what we are supposed to believe. I do not like the fact that all the speakers attacking Ulric and backing him are fringe members of the Crusader cadre of our Clan. Those I would have assumed to be Conal's strongest supporters have been the least vocal during this debate."

"Maybe Conal is saving his big guns for later. Perhaps this is his way of bidding away supporters so the fight will not escalate into something he cannot win."

"An interesting analysis." The old woman's eyes narrowed. "While we do bid away troops when staging a battle, our political fights have never operated in that way before. He has to be up to something."

Cyrilla fell silent as her eyes focused beyond Phelan. He spun around and saw Conal Ward rising to speak.

"Loremaster, my Khans, and colleagues. I have heard many people castigate Khan Ulric for his conduct during the first stage of the invasion of the Inner Sphere. They note that by conquering more worlds than did any of the other Clans, he has violated an agreement under which the invasion was begun. They suggest that by pushing further than any other Clan into the Successor States, he has disgraced and dishonored us. They say that by prematurely launching waves, he has goaded other Clans into disastrous acts of daring that resulted in serious defeats for the Jade Falcons and Smoke Jaguars."

Conal's voice was strong, and he knew how to shift the tone and speed of his delivery to catch his audience in his rhythm. An engaging speaker, he had a warrior's dignified bearing to emphasize that his substance was equal to his style.

"I have also heard these same speakers extol my virtues and set me up as the man to replace Khan Ulric. They cite my experience in leading our Heavy Cavalry Galaxy and my past successes in campaigns against the Snow Raven and Ghost Bear clans. They remind you that I won my Blood-name at the age of twenty-seven and that four Clans have offered to trade for my genetic material. They point out that my offspring, though only ten and fifteen years old, already dominate their sibkos.