Bloodname

When finally one coin emerged, then the other, the Oathmaster took care to remove them in correct order, the hunter coin in her right hand, the venue coin in her left.

"The hunter is Lopar," she said, holding out her hands, "and Aidan will choose the venue." It really did not matter one way or the other, Aidan thought, because he was sure Lopar would choose the same style. Perhaps the choice of venue was going to turn out to be the advantage. Then Lopar astonished Aidan and everybody else in the room.

"The hunter does not choose to permit this upstart to die honorably in a BattleMech. I will fight him in hand-to-hand combat. The only weapon will be a hunting knife. Minimal clothing. Victory will go to he who survives the combat with his life."

Death hunts were rare in the Jade Falcon Clan, but the rules of the Trial of Bloodright did sanction them. Many in the hall, their hatred still directed so force- fully at Aidan, seemed to approve of Lopar's scornful choice.

I had thought that I could exploit your hatred, Aidan thought, but now, Lopar, it will exploit you.

"So it is," said the Oathmaster, who then turned to Aidan. "What is your choice of venue? Where will you be hunted, Star Commander Aidan?"

"In Trial Field B, in the forest leading to the Trial of Position site. Tonight at midnight."

Some of the assembled warriors were obviously mystified. They could not know that the forest was where Aidan had slain a quintet of freeborn ambushers on the way to his first Trial of Position, which he was now so famous for having failed.

That was exactly why the forest was exactly the right place for Aidan to begin his formal quest for the great honor of a Bloodname. It was the place most fitting, for was this not where it had all begun? And should he fail, Joa

33

Night noises surrounded him. Though another warrior might have found the sounds eerie or disturbing, to Aidan they were comforting. After Glory Station, what could be worse? Here at least were no strange lizards, no tree pumas. This forest was familiar to him, parts of it engraved in his memory from his two previous experiences in the place. The first time had been during his trueborn cadet training, when he had slain the four freeborns here. The second had been as a freeborn, when he had, ironically, saved some members of his unit from being killed.

From her investigation of the records, Marthe had learned that Lopar's scores in hand-to-hand combat drills were excellent, but Aidan had also scored high. Their scores, Marthe told him, were nearly identical.

"You start even," she had said. "Though your familiarity with the terrain might give you an edge."

"Not really," he told her. "If he is adept at hand-to-hand, the terrain will make no difference. If I have an advantage, it might be my general knowledge of Ironhold. For one thing, the forest will be impenetrably dark tonight because there will be no moon. I am used to the dark, and I like it. My experiences on Glory will also serve me in good stead. The Glory Station swamp and jungle may be the worst and deepest on any of the Clan worlds, and I certainly navigated them often enough. Nothing in any of Lopar's past assignments can match that."

But now all speculation was behind him. He felt for the knife, which was sheathed in his belt. For clothing, he had chosen trousers and a shirt that were almost skin-tight, on the theory that the cloth would not rustle and give him away as he moved through the woods. On his feet were the softest leather sandals.

The night was pitch-black, and Aidan wished that Lopar had had the foresight to include IR goggles in the equipment specified for the battle. The dark was so complete that anyone moving about in this forest would inevitably run into unseen obstacles.

Perched on a low branch, listening for any sound that would reveal Lopar's location, Aidan had remained in place for a long while. When he heard no noise likely to have a human source, he began to wonder if Lopar might be doing the same thing—sitting still somewhere, waiting to catch Aidan if he should make some telltale sound.

How long could one of these Bloodright battles go on? If he and Lopar sat waiting like this at opposite ends of the forest, would some official eventually step in and judge both of them losers, allowing the warrior next in line to draw a bye?

No, that could not happen. The terms set forth by the hunter must hold. Lopar had not specified a time limit, but he had stated that the match was to the death. They could hold up the whole Trial of Bloodright by doing nothing the whole night long, but daylight must come eventually. The waiting game would end then. Aidan would also lose his best advantage, for his knowledge of the terrain meant even less in the light.

Trying to move as soundlessly as possible, he edged off the branch and jumped down into some soft grass, certain he had made no significant noise. He stayed near the tree, leaning against it momentarily as he listened, trying to distinguish among the cries, screams, whistles, shrieks, and other voices of the forest. He recognized the sad trill of the small but efficient bird of prey that was the Ironhold version of the nighthawk. He also made out other animal types moving through the forest, sometimes slowly, sometimes skittishly.

Nothing he heard sounded remotely like a Clan warrior on the prowl.

Aidan took a tentative step forward into a darkness so heavy it almost had weight. Though his eyes had adjusted to it by now, he still could not see his feet. Sometimes other dark shapes seemed to emerge from the blackness of the night, but he could not be sure which were trees and which were not. Most of the curving shapes hanging down were probably branches, but Ironhold had its share of poisonous snakes, some of which inhabited this forest.

He continued to edge forward cautiously, setting his feet down carefully with each step, hoping that if he contacted anything but the ground it would be harmless. After going only a short way, his outstretched hand touched a tree from which moisture dripped heavily. Or at least he thought it was moisture at first. Tasting it, Aidan knew it was neither water, nor dew, nor any kind of tree sap. It was blood. Reaching up with his hand, he fumbled against something warm and soft. His touch dislodged it, and it crashed to the ground with a loud thud. Again, touch and smell told him that the object was—or had been—some ma

From some distance away, he heard Lopar's exultant shout. "Now I know where you are, freebirth!"

Even with the insult, Aidan had the good sense to keep his own mouth shut. And I have a good idea where youare, he gloated silently.

* * *

Kael Pershaw was observing the battle on a monitor that viewed the forest through a thermal imager. The imager distorted some of the flora and fauna, but it made following the movements of Aidan and Lopar fairly easy.

Lopar's first actions had puzzled him mightily. The warrior seemed skilled at moving with stealth, yet he did not seem to be stalking Aidan. Instead, he tracked four different animals, killing each one by efficiently slitting its throat. Then he arranged their bodies precariously on low-hanging branches. It was not till much later when Aidan dislodged one of the dead forms that Pershaw understood Lopar's scheme. The warrior had no guarantee that Aidan would get under any particular branch, but it was only one of several traps the clever Lopar had set. Besides hunting and killing the animals, Lopar had also spent his first hours in the forest sharpening stakes and setting them into the ground. Then he located vines by touch, tying them between trees so that each vine ran at what was probably calculated to be at Aidan's neck level. During the several hours Lopar spent setting his traps, he seemed unconcerned about ru