The Primus smiled but without a trace of warmth or pleasantness.

"If you do not want to be embarrassed, Precentor Dieron, I suggest not calling for a vote on Interdiction. It seems that we choose to stand by our earlier agreement."

Myndo nodded. "Very well. I am content to wait until House Davion attacks Sarna—but no later." Now all I need do is restructure enough spy reports to make Sarna look very tempting.Into her mind, unbidden, came an image of Hanse Davion. Perhaps, with the Fox doing the planing, I will need do no work at all...

BOOK I

TRUTH

The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple.

—Oscar Wilde

1

New Avalon

Cruris March, Federated Suns

3 March 3029

Hanse Davion squinted his ice-blue eyes against the harsh glare of the lights, while around him, the applause from the reporters jamming the small auditorium thundered. Tall and regal in his maroon dress uniform, the Prince of the Federated Suns stood at the wooden podium, smiling as he waited for the ovation to die down. When it gave no signs of abating, he raised his hands to quiet the enthusiastic crowd.

"Please, let us at least have the appearance of an objective press...." He joined in with the journalists' laughter at the remark, then set his face in an expression of calm dignity. "I have a statement, ladies and gentlemen, before I take questions."

Hanse's left hand smoothed his closely cropped auburn hair. "Few would argue that warfare is mankind's oldest profession— and oldest obsession. Wars have decided the course of history in the seven thousand years of recorded time, and the art of warfare was no doubt forged in a crucible of even greater antiquity."

Hanse paused for a moment to drink from the glass of water set beside the podium. "The history of warfare often glorifies the feats of courage that win battles, or the valiant efforts of those who fought and lost. Historians freely second-guess an order given by this or that general, but they seldom count the Human factors entering into the equations. The barbarity of war can be reduced to statistics, but individuals feel the pain of losing a son or father or brother in emotional rather than mathematical terms.

"Even wars fought in accordance with the Ares Conventions— warfare that minimizes the impact of battles on civilian populations—are not without loss and pain. Yet it is a rare death that affects a whole nation. Today I have the sad duty of informing you, my people, of just such a death."

Hanse watched the reporters glance quizzically at one another. No, your sources have not leaked this piece of information. The only way you will hear it is from my mouth.Hanse let his lower lip tremble and injected a huskiness into his voice.

"Today we received confirmation of the death of Duke Michael Hasek-Davion." The Prince paused as the reporters' shocked outbursts echoed off the room's walls, then resumed his narrative as silence fell over the assembly. "He died—actually was brutally murdered—at the hands of Maximilian Liao. I take full responsibility for Michael's death. He died pursuing a policy he believed I favored.

"It is no secret that Duke Michael and I had our disagreements in the past, but they were not so dark and divisive as you, the members of the press, characterized them. There is a universe of difference between being fierce rivals and the relationship I shared with Duke Michael. You saw him as my enemy. I saw him as loyal opposition." Hanse sighed heavily. "He will be sorely missed, and his death will not go unavenged."

The Prince's expression did not change, but his voice rose to its normal range. "Liao's assassins were also ordered to destroy another individual in their efforts to please their mad master. In a move that can only be described as psychotically paranoid, Liao ordered the death of Colonel Pavel Ridzik. With the Maskirovka's usual efficiency, they failed to kill the Colonel, but maimed and murdered hundreds of innocent bystanders when the hit team exploded an entire city block trying to get one man."

Hanse allowed the hint of a smile to pull at the corners of his mouth. "Driven by concern for his people, the people of Tikonov, Colonel Ridzik sought us out. After a series of negotiations, we have agreed to recognize the Tikonov Free Republic and to terminate all hostile operations within its borders in return for a pact of mutual protection and defense. Once again, all the people of the Successor States have proof of our support for political freedom and each individual's right to pursue his or her destiny."

The Prince looked out over the press corps, then smiled wryly. "You will no doubt ask why we are at war with the Capellan Confederation if this is so. Why not let them live in peace? I ask, can anyone be truly free when so unscrupulous a leader lurks nearby? Liao thought nothing of destroying a whole city block to kill one man. Can the concepts of personal liberty and freedom mean anything to such a mind? The answer, quite simply, is no. We will do what we must to bring an end to Liao's madness."

The Prince set aside his prepared text, then braced his hands against the edges of the podium. As reporters shot to their feet for questions, the Prince pointed to a slender man in the center of the pack.

The other reporters sank quietly into their seats as the man introduced himself. "Joe Adams of the Information Network. Highness, how was Duke Michael killed, and how was news of his death transmitted to you?"

Covering his mouth with his fist, Hanse coughed lightly before answering. "We have nothing even approximating an autopsy, Mr. Adams, but preliminary reports indicate death was the result of a gunshot wound to the head. It is possible he was beaten beforehand. As for how we learned of his death, we received a communique from ComStar officials to arrange a transfer of the body from Liao hands to ours on Spica."

Again, the reporters stood up en masse, but the Prince singled out a dark-haired woman near the front. "Yes, you, Ms. Watkins."

The reporter glanced down at her compad's LCD display, then smiled at the Prince. "You said you accepted responsibility for the death of Duke Michael Hasek-Davion. Could you explain why?"

Hanse hesitated for a moment, then exhaled heavily. "Michael, concerned about a Liao slash at the Capellan March, took it upon himself to travel to Sian. He wanted to negotiate a settlement with Maximilian Liao, but things obviously turned sour on him. The reason I accept responsibility for his death is because I did not attend fully to Michael's concerns about the Capellan March. This happened because of my preoccupation with the war, but that does not absolve me of guilt."

A sandy-haired reporter won the shouting match to get the next question in. "Alf Cordes, New Avalon Broadcasting. How can you embrace Colonel Ridzik as a guardian of freedom when he was the author of the Truth Massacre in which three thousand men, women, and children were butchered by MechWarriors? We know Colonel Ridzik is an ambitious man, and quite probably engineered the death of Tormax Liao to ensure Maximilian's accession to the Capellan throne. Are you not afraid to let such a man get close to you?"

Hanse Davion's eyes narrowed to slits. "Mr. Cordes, I am well aware of Colonel Ridzik's record. I could stand here sharing with you a host of rationalizations, but I will spare you. Colonel Ridzik's support means we are able to reduce garrison forces, which ensures fewer casualties both on the front and behind the lines."