Flight of the Renshai fotr-1

by Mickey Zucker Reichert

  "You are not to run to your mother but to seek out every part of the world and bring back some unique item as proof of your travels."

  "What?" Subikahn seemed stuck on the word, his features open, registering real surprise now.

  Tae could feel his resolve wavering. He hardened his heart, imagining himself as Weile Kahn. He had despised his father's business and techniques; yet Tae now, finally, saw the wisdom in the way Weile had tossed his son into the fire. Without that ordeal, Tae would never have survived his trials with Kevral, Ra-khir, Darris, and Matrinka. "I expect you to visit the entirety of the Westlands, even the parts farthest north and east. I expect you to weather the Northlands-"

  "But I'm Renshai!" Subikahn shouted in horror. "The North? They'll slaughter me!"

  Tae lowered his head. The differences between his own test and Subikahn's were enormous. Even sent to a land of enemies, his son would never be recognized. Tae saw no reason to give the obvious advice, that Subikahn not bother to mention his mother's heritage or his training. He would easily pass for a full-blooded Easterner if he kept his swords sheathed and his mouth shut. If the boy could not figure out something so simple, he truly did deserve to die. "You'll find ways to cope. We all do."

  Subikahn considered the words in silence for several moments, nodding, clearly finding the positives inherent in having no responsibilities while exploring the entire world. "Very well, Papa. If you think that's best. Talamir and I will pack-"

  "No!"

  At the sudden, forceful shout, Subikahn jumped.

  "You will go alone."

  Now the horror that had previously escaped the prince appeared, stamped across his features. "But, Papa, Tally and I-"

  "No!"

  "We're a couple-"

  "No!"

  Subikahn's voice turned pleading. "Please, Father. I can't go two years without seeing my-"

  "You can." Tae could not allow Subikahn to finish that sentence. Whatever word the boy used would enrage him. "And you will." Softened by his son's pain,Tae lowered his voice. "Subikahn, this will give you a chance to experience… other things. If your love is real and strong, it will survive two years of separation." It was all platitudes. Tae felt certain Subikahn's youth and inexperience explained how he had fallen for the first non-related person, man or woman, who had invoked feelings of accomplishment, closeness, and security. Surely, Subikahn would meet attractive young women on his journey, and their tribulations would bring them closer. Until Subikahn experienced the kind of love Tae still suffered for Kevral, until he opened himself to new and different circumstances, he would never know what he really needed, what he really wanted.

  "You don't understand-"

  Tae glowered at the insult. "I love your mother now as much as I did the night you were conceived, even though I have seen her only once or twice a year in the last eighteen." He gave Subikahn a pointed look. "That, my son, is love."

  Subikahn's shoulders sagged. "Yes, Papa. You're right." The corners of his lips twitched but never made it into a smile. "I trust your instincts and your devotion to me. If you feel this is right, then I will leave in the morning. Alone."

  Tae gritted his teeth. Nothing had ever felt less right. Subikahn meant everything to him: his beloved son, the lone product of his infinite and ill-fated affection for Kevral, the only future of family and kingdom. But Tae knew that to back down from his decision would condemn Subikahn to execution. The boy's raw enthusiasm, his ignorance of Eastern law, his emotional innocence would assure that other people, dangerous people, discovered his lethal secret. And used it against them. "You will leave now, Subikahn."

  "Now?" Subikahn looked up at his father through a long fringe of bangs. He appeared so young, so childlike. "But I need to pack. To tell Tally 'good-bye.' To explain-"

  "Now," Tae repeated, fighting the tears forming in his own eyes. "No packing. No good-byes. No explanations. Just outside the door, my men have clothes for you and as much food and money as I'll allow you to take." Tae avoided Subikahn's judging stare. "It is best."

  Subikahn stood in silent misery.

  Tae resisted the urge to gather his son into his arms. A tearful separation would destroy his will and drive him to rescind what he knew in his heart was the proper course of action. "Farewell, Subikahn. I'll see you in two years." He smiled wanly, "I only hope I'll recognize you as a man."

  Slipping past his son, Tae opened the door and disappeared into the hallway with his waiting guardsmen. He did not instruct them. They knew what to do. They would see Subikahn safely off into the world.

  Meanwhile, Tae had other pressing business.

  CHAPTER 8

  When you corner a lion, expect a fight to the death.

  -Queen Matrinka of Bearn

  Thesecond knock on the teakwood door did not surprise Talamir, already dressed and ready. His hand fell to his sword hilt, and he called out, "Who is it?"

  No answer followed, just another, harder rap at the door.

  With a sigh of resignation, Talamir rose and headed cautiously toward the door. He had no idea what to expect, other than knowing he would not like whatever the king had planned. The look on his face after Subikahn had made his announcement combined surprise, horror, and abject rage. Talamir felt certain the king would vent that squall of emotion on him. Subikahn's gone. Talamir knew it. The best thing to ever happen in my life is over.

  Talamir tripped the latch, opened the door, and assumed a warrior position, anticipating a fight. Instead, he faced three men dressed in the kingdom's colors: black and silver. These were not standard guards; they wore no visible armor, nor the kingdom tabards. Dressed in close-fitting black, they stood with faces swathed in a silver gauze that identified them as the king's elite protectors. No one ever saw their features, at least not while in Tae's employ, yet the covering did not seem to hamper them in any way.

  The tallest of the three stepped forward, a sinewy giant lost in the folds of his all-concealing robe. "Talamir Edmin's son?"

  Talamir gave a barely perceptible nod. His mind and heart raced, trying to anticipate King Tae Kahn's intentions.

  "The king wants you in his court. Come with us, and leave the sword."

  Talamir would sooner leave his eyeballs. "No."

  All three men paused, facing Talamir. Apparently, they studied him through the gauze. Finally, the tallest spoke again. "You won't come?"

  "Oh, I'll come." Talamir knew that to refuse would guarantee his execution. "But the sword goes with me."

  "It stays." The same man continued to speak.

  No good could come of arguing the point. Talamir stood his ground and made no move to remove the weapon. Anyone who reached for it would lose his hand.

  Wisely, not one of the three made any motion to disarm him. The smallest of the trio, a man of average height and bulk, finally spoke. "You are a warrior of honor?" he asked.

  "I am." Talamir raised his chin. Many around the world considered the Renshai demons, but few deserved the insult. Renshai had a distinct code of honor that relied on personal speed and skill.

  "Then you will not bare steel in the presence of the king."

  It was as much statement as question, yet Talamir knew he would have to answer. "Very well." He had no intention of killing Subikahn's father, yet his honor did not forbid him from pulling the weapon in defense of self and loved ones, with or without the promise.

  "Come with us, please." The same man gestured to Talamir, and the Renshai went to him. He had a sophistication about him that the others did not share. Accustomed to judging others by physical form and movement, Talamir found their swathing disconcerting. Nevertheless, he guessed that the smallest of the group was the leader, though he had not originally spoken. He had an aura of charisma about him that came through in motion, in speech timbre and pattern, in the way he carried himself beneath the robes and mask.

  Talamir walked with this man, the one he labeled the Shadow Leader. The others fell into step around them, the tall man in the bac
k and his companion leading the way. Talamir studied the man in front of him, the only one who had not spoken. Though not impressive in height, he carried himself like a warrior, either stout, massively muscled, or both. He had a waddle to his walk, but he carried his head high and unconcerned. Either it never occurred to him that the Renshai might attack from behind or, more likely, he believed he could handle any threat. Talamir doubted it was all foolish bravado.

  The walk continued in silence until they stood several strides outside the courtroom. At that moment, the man beside Talamir whispered, "Pay attention if you want to survive."

  Talamir had no idea whether or not to trust this stranger, but he saw no reason not to listen. He knew homosexuality was a crime in the Eastlands, but to punish Talamir, Tae would have to reveal his partner. It seemed unlikely the king would allow Subikahn to undergo life-threatening punishment. He nodded once to indicate he had heard.

  The squat man in the lead opened the courtroom door on an enormous, empty room. Benches lined the middle in two rows, and a massive chandelier hung over them, the candles currently unlit. A string of torches along the wall flickered, bathing the walls but leaving the central areas mostly shadowed. No one sat upon the dais at the front.

  Talamir stood between the lighter two men as the squat one closed the doors behind them. He chose to remain there, arms folded across his chest, massive broadsword outlined against the thin black linen of his costume.

  Though it felt long in the self-imposed silence, the wait was only a few moments. Tae appeared through a curtain behind the dais. He did not sit upon the throne but stepped down to the level of Talamir and the guards, walking within speaking range though still a finely-measured distance from a sudden lunge and sword stroke. Even more wary than usual, Talamir could not help but notice that Tae chose the perfect position for foiling a Renshai. Either he had gotten spectacularly lucky, or he had learned much from traveling with Kevral. Not that it mattered. It only meant an extra step, an extra lightning instant, for Talamir to kill the king should such action become necessary.

  Talamir shook the thought from his mind. He had promised not to bare steel in Tae's presence, and he had no intention of doing so unless cornered. Even then, he would not murder Subikahn's father, a man his lover adored and respected.

  Tae did not bother with preamble. He glared at the Renshai with a hostility Talamir had never seen from the playful king before. "Your job was to teach Subikahn Renshai maneuvers, not how to become a bonta. He used the Eastern vulgarity for a man who sleeps with other men."

  Talamir gritted his teeth but refused to take offense. He could not afford to lose his composure. "The prince is a competent Renshai, Your Majesty. He will pass his tests of manhood when we get home."

  "Home?" Tae's brows shot up. "The prince's 'home' is here. In Stalmize."

  Talamir flinched. "I-I meant no insult, Sire.When I said "home," I meant my home." He glanced into Tae's eyes and read a deep, primal anger. His own hand slunk inexorably toward his hilt despite his best efforts to keep it still. Renshai fought with blades, not words.

  "Talamir Edminsson, you are charged with raping the crown prince of Stalmize."

  Shocked, Talamir took a physical step backward. His mouth fell open, but no words emerged. He pictured Subikahn, an olive blur of movement, his fine black hair a rich indigo in the sunlight. By looks, only a hint of blue in his eyes betrayed the Northern side of his heritage, but his quickness and agility would reveal him to any Renshai in an instant. Warmth suffused Talamir at an image he found strikingly handsome, and he forced himself to speak. "I didn't rape anyone, Sire. Subikahn is a willing lover."

  "How dare you." Tae fairly hissed. "He's a child; you're a grown man of… of… How old are you, Talamir?"

  At the moment, Talamir could scarcely remember. "I'm… twenty-seven, Sire. And Kahn is nearly also a man, by Renshai standards. He only needs to complete-"

  Tae exploded. "His name is Prince Subikahn to you!"

  "Prince Subikahn," Talamir corrected. "Yes, Sire. Prince Subikahn only needs to-"

  Tae gave no ground. "Shortening an Easterner's name is grave insult."

  "I'm sorry, Sire. I didn't know." Talamir added before thinking, "You go by Tae, not Tae Kahn, Your Majesty. And Prince Subikahn often calls me Tal or Tally."

  "I go by 'Your Majesty,' " Tae reminded through gritted teeth. "And you, Tal…" He pronounced the nickname with a tone that made it sound oddly filthy, grotesquely evil. "… are not an Easterner."

  "Well, yes, Sire. I mean, no, Sire, I'm not, but…"

  "The name I choose for myself is none of your business."

  "Yes, Sire." Talamir wished he had never broached the subject. It did not matter, and it only seemed to further enrage the king. "Of course not." As he understood it from Subikahn, Weile and Tae used "Kahn" as a separate surname that served the same purpose as Talamir's own "Edminsson." As a Renshai, the prince went by Subikahn Taesson, so they had incorporated the "Kahn" directly into his given name.

  "What do you have to say for yourself?" Tae finally demanded.

  Words failed Talamir. He had never seen Tae angry before, and it unnerved him. "Sire, I'm worried to say anything. Every word from my mouth seems to further upset you."

  Tae folded his arms across his chest, a seemingly indefensible position. He carried no visible weapons either, a dangerous way to confront an armed Renshai who, ordinarily, would take such disdain as a challenge. "It's your actions, not your words, that enrage me, Talamir."

  Talamir had barely moved since entering the courtroom. "My actions, Sire?" He became acutely aware of the location of his right hand and was glad to find it at his side, not on his hilt.

  "You… raped… my… son!"

  It was the second time Tae had spoken the accusation, yet Talamir found himself equally stunned and horrified. "No!"

  "You were in a superior position, and he trusted you. You used your power over him to coerce him into… unspeakable acts."

  "No." Talamir dropped his voice nearly to a whisper. "No, I-" His mind raced to his relationship with the man he loved, and he could not forget the turmoil he had suffered at the same age. Always, he wondered when his interest in women would come, long after his peers already talked about little else. He even forced himself to consummate a relationship and managed it only by avoiding the parts other men craved, picturing the handsomest of his male peers in her place. Like nearly all Renshai trysts, this had not resulted in a child. The Renshai testing began before birth; hard-bodied women found conception far more difficult. An infant who could not last through the grueling workouts of its mother could never survive Renshai training. They even rushed into battle in advanced states of pregnancy.

  Hailed as a hero for his unwavering dedication to his swordwork that allowed him to forswear the temptations of the flesh, Talamir endured in silence. He had gained the status of torke at a young age, his devotion to the Renshai maneuvers paying off, though he hid the secret of his passions in shame and fear. He was a true man's man, a warrior with few equals, yet nothing but a bonta to the King of Stalmize, the one man whose blessing he needed.

  Talamir had not meant to fall in love with Subikahn, nor to encourage the youngster's devotion to him. It had happened in the quiet nights of desperation when the prince confided his fears and his pain to his teacher, trials that sounded all too familiar. Talamir had meant only to soothe the agony, to help the boy find enlightenment, understanding, and joy in a world stacked against them. But the closeness of their experiences, the sharing of their darkest secrets, and the heartfelt depth of knowledge that few could understand had brought them irrevocably closer. He loved Subikahn with a profundity and passion he had never before known in his life. And he knew the young prince felt the same way. "I didn't rape anyone. I never would."

  "Remember," the black-clothed figure beside Talamir hissed. "The penalty for willing participation in a homosexual act is death."

  Death. The warning made no sense to Talamir, who ha
d already realized he stood in mortal peril. The Shadow Leader had promised to help him spare his life, not lose it. Being reminded of the gravity of the situation only made Talamir more nervous, more certain to make a fatal mistake. Again, he found his fist nearly on his hilt and forced himself to move it. "Sire, your son…" Talamir started.

  "Yes."

  "Your son…" Understanding suddenly struck Talamir. If he pressed his current point, if he made the king believe the truth, he condemned both Subikahn and himself to execution. Two willing participants equaled two killings. One rapist meant only one. "Sire," Talamir restarted, his tongue feeling suddenly swollen. He was about to condemn himself to a brutal death; yet, doing so seemed the only way to rescue his lover. "Sire, you're right. I am solely at fault; Prince Subikahn Taesson is an innocent victim of my…" The last word clung to his tongue, and he had to shake it loose. "… depravity."

  Tae seemed nearly as surprised by the confession as Talamir had by the accusation. "You… you admit…" His tone abruptly changed. "I knew it. You bastard! You brutalized my son. You ruined him for any woman! You…!" He gestured inarticulately for a moment before regaining his composure. "Talamir Edminsson, you are hereby sentenced to death by torture." He made a clear, broad gesture to the three men near Talamir. "Take him to the dungeon."

  "Don't fight," the Shadow Leader said.

  He might as well have been talking to the wall stones. Talamir had his sword free and slashing before anyone could move to stop him. Tae flew up the spectators' seats to the chandelier in a heartbeat. The other three moved almost as quickly, but their nearness to Talamir hindered them. The tip of one's glove followed the path of the sword, trailing blood. Another clamped a hand to his ear, swearing. The third, the one who had advised Talamir, managed to completely avoid the stroke, disappearing into the shadows of the court.

  Though injured, the other two put themselves between Talamir and the exit. Both suddenly clutched blades, though Talamir had seen neither carry one. He crouched into a ready position. The rumor that one Renshai was equivalent to any other three competent warriors was not exaggeration. He had trained to take his enemies in packs as well as individually, to even expect treachery from those who initially battled with him, as friends. "If I am going to die, it will be in battle, not slung from a gallows." He lunged toward the largest of Tae's guards.