"What about Yorinaga's death haiku?" the cleric asked as the red-rock mesa housing the monastery filled the aircar's view-screen and heralded the journey's end.

Dan shook his head. "It wasn't a death haiku. I've heard it translated as:

Yellow bird I see.

The gray dragon hides wisely.

Honor is duty.

"The gray dragon is the Second Sword of Light. That's their regimental patch. The Yellow Bird is a bit of Draconian mythology . . . it's supposed to be the only enemy the Dragon knows. A lot of the analysts I've talked with since seem to think that Yorinaga saw, in Morgan, or the Kell Hounds, or the battle for Mallory's World, something that would destroy the Combine. He decided, at all costs, that he must withdraw from the fight and inform the Coordinator of what he had seen."

Brother Keith nodded and slowed the aircar. He steered it toward an arched opening tall enough for even a ten-meter-high 'Mech to pass with ample headroom. As the aircar passed through the opening and into the mesa's hollowed and shadowy interior, the temperature dropped sharply from the sweltering heat of the desert. Brother Keith brought the aircar to a stop near the base of a stairway carved from the mesa's blood-red stone.

The aircar's gull wing doors slid up and Dan peeled himself from the vinyl seat. When he straightened up, the MechWarrior towered over both Brother Keith and another, rounder, balding Brother who had arrived at the base of the stairs in time to greet both driver and passenger. Dan narrowed his eyes. Shave off twenty years, six or seven kilos, give him back his hair, and that guy'd be the spitting image of Hermann Steiner.

The elder Brother extended his hand to the mercenary. "I am Brother Giles, Abbot of St. Marinus House. I bid you welcome, Hauptmann Allard. Ah, forgive me. You Kell Hounds use the term Captain, I believe."

Dan nodded slowly. Thisis Hermann Steiner!Steiner was the man who had resigned his commission as Commander of the Second Royal Guards to keep those who supported his brother Alessandro from using him as a force against Katrina Steiner. So this is where he ended up."Thank you for meeting me, Brother Giles. I would like to see Morgan Kell as soon as possible."

The Abbot nodded gravely. "I understand, Captain Allard, but I wish to speak with you first. St. Marinus House is a sanctuary for MechWarriors who renounce the violence of their past." Brother Giles turned and waved Dan up the stairs. "Our community is named for a martyr who chose not to renounce God to win a promotion to the rank of centurion. Because the men who are here have come of their own free will, I attempt to shield them from the outside world."

"I appreciate your concern, Abbot, but I would not have come all this way if it were not a matter of the utmost importance."

When they reached the landing, the Abbot stepped around Dan and swung the door open for him. "I understand this, Captain, and that is why I sent a car for you. Morgan has not formally become a member of the community, and so my jurisdiction does not extend to him. Still—" the cleric shrugged—"I am concerned about his well-being and sanity."

"Sanity?" Dan frowned.

"Ah . . . Captain . . . perhaps that was not the precise word. But you have seen battle and death and you know how it can change a person—warp him or destroy him. Morgan has conquered many of the demons plaguing him, but there is still one he cannot control."

Dan seated himself in the chair indicated by the heavyset cleric. "What are you talking about?"

Brother Giles settled himself behind his desk. "Something still haunts Morgan Kell, Captain Allard." The former MechWarrior pointed out and up toward the sky. "Something waits for him out there. He's hidden here for eleven years and he's prayed every day to avoid it. Now, with your arrival, he no longer can."

Dan felt suddenly cold. "What is waiting for him?"

The Abbot pursed his lips and stared hard at the Kell Hound Captain. "I believe what he fears is the encounter with his own death."

6

Zaniah III

Isle of Skye, Lyran Commonwealth

22 October 3027

In silence, Brother Giles and Daniel Allard rode the elevator to the top of the mesa. When the elevator doors opened, it was at half a level below the uneven, weathered surface. Brother Giles pointed toward a wide ramp curving up and around to the brilliantly lit exterior as waves of heat washed into the elevator.

Dan stepped from the elevator and slowly walked up the ramp. How will I tell him? Yes, Patrick Kell died a hero, but is that any solace? Will he even care?Dan shivered, then ground his teeth in anger. You still care about your brother Justin, despite his defection. How could you expect less from Morgan?

Dan rounded the ramp's corner and instantly spotted Morgan Kell. Tall and muscular, yet lean— wolf-lean—the ex-Mech Warrior stood with his back to Dan. He was clad only in a loincloth, the ends of which fluttered in the hot desert breeze, and the sunlight etched his muscles in sharp highlights and dark shadows. The deep bronze of his flesh hid all but the barest traces of scars earned in his career.

The wind ruffled Morgan's long black hair and blew enough of it away from his profile to let Dan see that he wore a beard. Because the other man had his head bent forward in prayer, Dan did not speak. The wind, too, suddenly became quiet, no longer drowning out the sounds of Morgan Kell’s strong, even voice.

"Soul of Christ, sanctify me," he said. "Body of Christ, save me. Blood of Christ, inebriate me. Water from the side of Christ, wash me. Passion of Christ, strengthen me. O good Jesu, hear me. Within Thy wounds hide me. Suffer that I not be separated from Thee. From the malignant enemy, defend me. In the hour of my death, call me, and bid me to come to Thee, that with Thy Saints, I may praise Thee for ever and ever. Amen."

When Kell's head came up, Dan spoke softly, though he felt a shiver of awe. "Colonel Kell?"

Morgan Kell was a big man but he turned gracefully. Despite the beard, Dan saw the same handsome face he remembered and the same wary look of cunning that had inspired fear in many an enemy over the years. He also saw the changes wrought in the man who once commanded the Kell Hounds. The surface changes—the wrinkles at the corners of Morgan's eyes and the streaks of gray shooting through his beard and hair—were ones he had expected. The other changes, though, startled Dan.

He looks so peaceful, so much more restrained than before. Brother Giles was right. Morganhas changed.Dan stared into the other man's brown eyes and felt an uneasy roiling in his guts. He also looks haunted. . .

A slow smile brought some animation to Morgan Kell's face. "You're Dan Allard." Kell's gaze flickered toward the patch riding on the left breast of Dan's tunic. "And still with the Hounds?"

"Yes, sir." Dan straightened up and saluted. "It's good to see you, Colonel."

Morgan awkwardly mimicked Dan's motion, but it was as though a salute were a gesture alien to him. He furrowed his brow. "I know why you're here, Dan. It's him, isn't it?"

Dan's mouth went dry. How can he know? All the Kell Hound staff agreed we shouldn't send him the news by message. We wanted someone who knew Patrick to deliver the news. Not some ComStar acolyte who didn't care.

Morgan turned and clasped his hands behind his back, his silhouette strong against the western sky. "I knew this would happen some day. I knew it wasn't finished eleven years ago. Yet I've hoped and prayed this day would never come."