Kevral walked to the knights. Usually, any interruption of her instructions left her scowling and irritated. Now, a ghost of a welcoming smile traced her lips, overwhelmed by growing furrows of concern. Saviar knew what cued his mother; Ra-khir knew better than to intrude on a Renshai practice without grave reason.
Ra-khir spoke first, clearly worried Kevral's impatience might drive her to say something unbecoming. "Good evening, my darling." He flourished his hat with a grand gesture befitting a noble lady. "I deeply apologize for interrupting your lesson."
Kevral gave him only an expectant, "Yes?" She hated the knight's formality and forbade it within the confines of their home; but Knight-Captain Kedrin's presence and Ra-khir's official garb required it. They were on duty.
"I'm afraid the Knight-Captain and I have been called away to Bearn." Ra-khir added in a less formal tone, "Prince Arturo's gone missing."
Kevral's demeanor softened abruptly. The trace of a smile vanished. "Missing?"
"Presumed dead."
Fear clutched Saviar's heart, and his hands went suddenly cold. He remembered Marisole's little brother from freer days when they had had more time for play away from the grueling sword training that tied them always to the Fields of Wrath. Two years younger and in awe of his older sister, Arturo had toddled in her wake, his enormous brown eyes sweet and irresistible. Any attention from her friends made his face glow with pleasure and his toothless mouth open into a broad smile.
Knight-Captain Kedrin gripped Ra-khir's arm in warning. Such matters did not warrant discussion in front of children, usually; though nothing about death startled or bothered young Renshai. So long as it occurred in battle, they welcomed and glorified it, their goal since infancy. Even Saviar had every intention of dying in fevered and magnificent combat, freeing his soul for the perfect afterlife in Valhalla.
"Oh… no." Kevral glanced at the ground, then kicked it savagely. "Oh, no." She seemed on the edge of asking about Matrinka, about Griff, Darris, and Marisole, all of whom must be crazed with grief. Instead, she took the tack of a true Renshai. "His escort? Where were they? They should have kept him safe." A hard edge of disdain and anger entered a tone that, only a moment before, had displayed all-too-human concern.
"They're dead, my lady," Ra-khir defended the prince's Renshai guardians.
Before Ra-khir could explain further, Kedrin spoke sharply, "Sir Ra-khir! That is not an appropriate topic for youngsters." He made a gesture that encompassed Kevral's entire class, advanced boys and girls ranging in age from fifteen to twenty-two.
Kevral's cheeks darkened, and Saviar grimaced, prepared for a barrage of maternal anger that never came.
Ra-khir held her at bay with a pleading gesture, then turned on his own father. "Captain, I beg to differ. For Renshai, this is not only an appropriate topic, it is a necessary one."
Kedrin's lips clamped closed, but he gave his son permission to continue with a brittle nod.
Ra-khir obliged. "They died in battle, defending Arturo to the end."
Kevral managed a smile, tempered by the gravity of the situation. The slain Renshai would surely be celebrated that evening, their names added to the roles of heroes for use in naming newborns. It was this practice, Saviar knew, coupled with the Renshai propensity to look younger than their ages that had once made them seem invincible, demonic. The other Northern tribes had referred to them as djevgullinhari, the "golden-haired devils."
Kevral took Ra-khir's hand, speaking so softly Saviar could scarcely hear her. "Please give Matrinka my condolences. And do what you can to help her through this."
Though upset by the situation, Saviar enjoyed his mother's rare moment of softness. Though Renshai through and through, she could still place herself in the position of an anguished, kind, and gentle queen who was also her friend.
"I'll do my best," Ra-khir promised. Saviar could tell he wanted to say more, perhaps to remind Kevral that others more appropriate were already at the queen's side; but he stopped with those words. Saviar wondered if his father hesitated to mention Darris and Griff because of their conversation the night before. Ra-khir would not want anyone else to divine Arturo's blood parentage on account of his words.
Memory of that talk brought a sudden idea to Saviar's mind. As the knights turned to leave, he spoke it aloud. "Torke?" He knew better than to refer to Kevral as "Mama" during lessons. "May I go with them?"
Ra-khir froze with his mount half-turned, and Kedrin stiffened.
Kevral glanced at Saviar. "I wasn't aware that you were invited."
Ra-khir turned his attention to his own father. Clearly, he wished to extend that invitation, but the hierarchy of the knights gave him no right to do so.
Kedrin rescued his subordinate son. "Of course, Saviar may accompany us. We'd be delighted to have him, with your permission, good lady."
Kevral continued to study her son. Saviar remained in position, not even daring to breathe. She would see pleading as weakness and surely deny him. Until he became a man, however, Saviar could not make this decision without her.
Kevral turned away from Saviar, and his heart sank. She curtsied in the general direction of Kedrin, more in deference to his status as father-in-law than Knight-Captain. Saviar bit his lip, forcing himself not to cringe. No telling what a Renshai as committed as Kevral might say to any man who interrupted her practice, especially when she considered him her martial inferior. "Excuse me, Captain. Might I borrow your companion for a few moments of private conversation?"
Saviar released a pent-up breath. Whatever irritation his request had inspired, Kevral intended to vent on her husband alone. At least, for the moment. Saviar tried not to consider the punishment she could heap on him under the guise of training. Sorry, Papa. I didn't mean to involve you, too.
Once properly dismissed by his superior, Ra-khir eagerly followed Kevral beyond earshot of her students. Even after all these years, he still enjoyed watching her from behind. Every tiny movement, from her rare curtsy to her confident strides, held a grace trained into her nearly since birth.The most seductive dancers could not compete for his attention. For all their girlish dexterity, their motions lacked the absolute power and commitment of Kevral's; and few could boast such tightly muscled buttocks.
Kevral turned suddenly, and Ra-khir had to stop short to keep from running into her. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, staring at him instead. "You're grinning like a lunatic."
Ra-khir's smile turned wolfish, and he crooked an eyebrow. "I like what I see."
Kevral clearly could not suppress her own grin. "Gods, that really is all you men think about, isn't it?"
"Not all." Ra-khir mocked defensiveness. "Just nine times out of ten, give or take one."
"Still?" Kevral shook her head, eyes rolling. "We've been married for like a hundred years. Granted, I only had two pregnancies, but I've given birth to three sons." She indicated her lower regions with an agile gesture. "What's left to leer at?"
Ra-khir could scarcely believe the question. "Eighteen perfect years, not a hundred, and it seems more like eight.You're more beautiful now then ever." He drew her into his arms, her body like taut bundles of wire. "I'm the luckiest man in the world."
Kevral kissed him, the touch of her lips deliciously soft and yielding. She was a fierce, and strangely gracious, lover.
Ra-khir returned her kiss and tightened his embrace. Sinewy and more potentially lethal than a serpent, she still felt small and helpless in his massive arms. His desire to protect her, though misplaced, consumed him. He might have stood there all day if Kevral had not gently disengaged.
"I didn't bring you here to… slobber and tickle."
I'll be quick, Ra-khir nearly quipped before seeing the serious look on Kevral's face. Instead, he stepped back and waited patiently for her to explain.
"Ordinarily, I'd never let a student travel this close to his manhood testing, but it seems important to Saviar."
Ra-khir had to agree. "He's never dared asked be
fore." When it came to Renshai training and the boys, Kevral outranked him as fully as Kedrin did among the knights. "It's obviously something he feels strongly about."
"Why?"
Ra-khir hesitated, confused. "Are you asking me?"
Kevral shrugged. "Even if Saviar knows why, and he probably doesn't, he wouldn't tell his mother."
The words made no sense to Ra-khir. "Why not?"
Kevral studied Ra-khir as if he had grown wings. "Because he's an adolescent boy, and all adolescent boys hate their parents."
Stunned, Ra-khir could do nothing but stare. They stood in silence for several awkward moments before he finally managed to stammer, "Th-they do?"
Apparently mistaking his surprise for an act, Kevral laughed. "Of course they do. You know that. You were an adolescent b-" She broke off abruptly and ended with a simple "Oh."
Ra-khir's thoughts drifted back to a bitter childhood he rarely consulted when raising his own sons. When Ra-khir was quite young, his parents had separated. His mother had remarried and insisted that her new husband was his father. She had held Kedrin at bay with threats and trickery, lied to Ra-khir about his origins, and the fool she married assisted her deception. Ra-khir had not learned the truth until his teens. When his mother gave him an ultimatum, he chose his father over her and started the relationship he should have had throughout his childhood. "When I was an adolescent boy, I was just getting to know and love my father. And I had every reason to dislike my mother."
Kevral turned him an apologetic look. She had clearly not intended to dredge up those memories. "Adolescent boys who grow up with loving parents reach a stage where they sort of…" Kevral cocked her head, as if trying to quote someone verbatim and not quite finding the correct words. "… distance themselves from their parents in order to find their own place in the world."
Ra-khir guessed at the source of Kevral's words. "Matrinka?" Usually, she quoted Colbey Calistinsson, but child rearing was not the purview of the consummate Renshai.
Kevral smiled sheepishly. "Darris, actually. He was in Erythane several months back doing… something diplomatic…"
Ra-khir marveled at how such brilliance with martial training could be accompanied by such complete ignorance about anything political.
"… and I asked him why my boys went from treating me like a fount of wisdom to treating me like a humiliating and utter moron."
Ra-khir huffed out a relieved sigh. "So it's not just me?"
"No, it's all parents. Apparently, we're all morons. For a while, at least."
Glad to find a logical and less personal reason for the change in his relationship with Saviar, Ra-khir glanced back toward the class. It did not appear as if the Knight's-Captain, or any of the Renshai students, had moved a muscle.
"So, do you think Saviar had a reason for wanting to accompany you? Or do you think he's just avoiding his lessons?"
Ra-khir pursed his lips, giving Saviar the benefit of his doubts. The boy did not have a history of dodging work or even difficult situations. Ra-khir suspected Saviar's newfound interest in the knighthood had more to do with the boy's request, but Ra-khir could not tell that to Kevral. It would upset her, probably wholly without cause. Likely, Saviar's attraction to the knights was merely part of the aforementioned "finding his place in the world." Eventually, his curiosity would wane, and it seemed beyond foolish to worry Kevral or give Calistin another point on which to harass his already beleaguered older brother. "I trust Saviar's judgment, and he's not a shirker." Ra-khir added wistfully, "The boys spend so much time honing swordcraft, I rarely get to spend time with any of them. I'd really like him to come, if you don't mind."
Kevral nodded. Saying nothing, she drifted back toward her students, Ra-khir following in her wake, as always enjoying the view.
When Kevral returned, her expression gave away nothing. She pinned Saviar with her gaze. "You will practice."
Though not a question, Saviar replied as if it were, "At every dismount. I won't sleep until I've worked hard enough to satisfy you." Saviar knew it helped his case that he had performed so well in class that day.
"I'll see to that," Ra-khir promised, mounting Silver Warrior.
Kevral drew in a deep breath and released it.
Saviar felt as if his heart stopped beating for that moment, as if concerned to make noise and drown out his mother's decision.
"See that he does." Kevral made a dismissive gesture toward her eldest son before turning her attention to the rest of her class. "Again!" she commanded, sending the Renshai scrambling to repeat their last maneuver. From that moment, she showed no further interest in the knights or her son, though she surely kept track of their every movement by sound. No Renshai could remain entirely unaware of any nearby human, friend or foe.
Ra-khir reached out a hand, and Saviar caught it eagerly, before his sword-dedicated mother had a chance to change her mind.
CHAPTER 5
My actions vary with circumstances, but honor itself is not situational.
-Knight-Captain Kedrin Ramytan's son
A heavy breeze, wet with frost, caressed Saviar's sweat-soaked body, a cool and pleasant contrast to his overtaxed limbs and muscles cramped by hours astride a shared horse. Silver Warrior had a smooth, rolling gait; but that barely diminished the discomfort of bouncing on withers instead of settling into the comfortable hollow worn by nearly two decades of riding and softened by the stallion's age. Accustomed to free movement, and understanding that his life might depend upon his speed and agility, Saviar had cursed the stiffness that assaulted his backside upon dismounting. Nevertheless, he had forced himself to give his all to the sword practice he had promised his mother. Now, finished with both, he refused to limp as he approached his father and grandfather.
The knights perched on a deadfall, conversing softly. Both wore the requisite colors, their cloaks immaculate, their swords sheathed, and their hats perched at the proper, jaunty angle. Travel foods lay spread in front of them, but neither man had touched a morsel. Half-starved, Saviar marveled at their self-control as he crouched across from them, his own ardor for the meal unhidden. He could not keep his stare from the journey bread, dried fruit and jerky, the waterskins. Though nothing special, at the moment it seemed like an irresistible feast.
"You didn't have to wait for me," Saviar asserted, sucking back welling saliva before it emerged as drool.
"We did." Ra-khir gestured at the bounty. "To do otherwise would be impolite."
Saviar shook his head without argument. He had told them to start without him, but the knights' unmitigated honor would not allow them even then. Saviar wanted to tell them that he would have found no rudeness in their eating while he practiced, and that they could abandon formality in his presence; but either comment seemed unnecessary, perhaps even insulting. The knights' honor had nothing to do with Saviar and everything to do with the code by which they chose to live.
Saviar scooped up a piece of jerky and a hunk of bread, not wishing to delay their meal another moment. In the future, he decided, he would practice on a full stomach. He would find it painful and would, likely, vomit; but it would save his father and grandfather from suffering. In addition, it would please his mother who insisted they practice on all terrains, in twilight and high sun, in blizzards and even states of fever. "An enemy," she often reminded him, "will not plan an attack based on your comfort."
Though driven to shove everything into his mouth and swallow, Saviar forced himself to chew. Kevral had a point, though it seemed a bit excessive and silly at times. Other than the pirates on the Southern Sea, Saviar knew of no one poised to battle any of them, except perhaps his own brother. If Renshai went to war, they did so by choice, to aid the Bearnides in the pirate skirmishes. Until Arturo's disappearance, however, those had not seemed much of a threat.
Saviar waited until he had consumed the food in his hands at a reasonable pace before swallowing the last bite and speaking. "So what happened to Arturo? How did he go missing?"
Saviar caught himself wiping his hands on his britches. Though they said nothing, he knew the knights did not approve. "Including Arturo?" He shook his head as he reached for the fruit. "Then why do they say he's just missing?"
"The ocean has sharks and scavengers." Kedrin spoke plainly, as if to an adult. Though he had wanted Ra-khir to temper his words around the other Renshai youths, he made no attempt to do so now with his grandson. No matter the Renshai definition, Kedrin clearly considered Saviar a man. "Not every body returned intact or at all. It would not be prudent to put a prince to pyre until his identity is certain."
Saviar seized a piece of dried fruit and put it in his mouth, chewing as he considered. Kedrin had basically said that Arturo's body might have floated ashore in pieces. The reality of that image leaped suddenly to the fore: sharp, jagged teeth ripping into the young man's flesh, streaming blood that attracted more of its ilk, tearing him to pieces. Saviar could only hope the prince was dead when he hit the water. He gave no thought to the young man's escort. The Renshai would have reveled in the battle, earned and celebrated their deaths against superior warriors or numbers. Saviar had enough experience to realize the rest of the world thought differently. Savoring the sweet aftertaste, he swallowed the fruit. "What was a young prince of Bearn doing aboard a ship facing off with pirates?"
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