Flight of the Renshai fotr-1

by Mickey Zucker Reichert

  Directly beside Saviar, Halika read the glance as well. "What? It's not so far-fetched. No one thought Papa was alive either; and he became king."

  Barrindar corrected, "No one knew Papa existed. He didn't come back from the dead."

  "King Sterrane did. And he was probably the greatest king ever."

  Barrindar clearly knew his history, "Sterrane wasn't dead either. He got spirited away by a wizard because he was the true heir. With magic. There aren't any wizards anymore, and not even Arturo believed himself the one the test would choose."

  Halika refused to accept Barrindar's point. "There are elves. They have magic."

  Eldorin snorted.

  Calitha finished her soup and leaped into the conversation. "The pirates are not elves. And elves didn't spirit Arturo away. Sharks did."

  "My brother's not dead." Halika folded her arms across her chest, mouth clamped. It did not matter what anyone else said on the subject; she was no longer listening.

  Saviar was no stranger to denial. "If Halika wants to believe Arturo is alive, who is it hurting? No one really knows." He added softly, for Halika, "Perhaps she's even right."

  Halika's arms sagged slightly, and she managed a smile.

  One thing seemed certain to Saviar: the heirs did not need his comforting. They had a castle full of parents, nursemaids, courtiers, and servants as well as one another with whom to discuss the matter and any deep feelings of grief. He helped them best as a simple distraction.

  "So," Barrindar said. "How about that Renshai battle?"

  "Incredible!" Eldorin jockeyed around Halika to meet Saviar's gaze. "The way you handled them all… it was… awesome."

  Saviar felt his cheeks flame. "I didn't… I mean I can't really…" Though he would have preferred the conversation go anywhere else, he put up with the subject to keep their minds off Arturo for a while. "It was all strategic positioning. If they'd caught me before I made the stairs, I would have gotten clobbered…" The last thing Saviar needed was for the other Renshai to get wind that he had boasted about his achievements in the practice courtyard. He would find himself attacked at every opportunity, assaulted by Renshai wishing to show him a true, one-on-one comeuppance.

  "But they didn't," Halika finished. "And I thought you looked amazing."

  Eldorin added, "Saviar always looks amazing. He's gorgeous."

  The flush spread to Saviar's entire face. Unable to look at anyone, he developed a sudden, inordinate interest in his soup.

  Apparently responding to something unspoken, Eldorin said, "What? Well, it's true. All the men in his family are. Everyone says so."

  Saviar wished he could disappear.

  "But not right in front of him," Calitha hissed.

  The youngest of the group, Eldorin seemed incapable of understanding the problem. "But Mama says it's rude to talk about people behind their backs. And I'm not saying anything bad or untrue. And I like when people call me pretty."

  With the patience of a big sister accustomed to being embarrassed, Calitha said, "I'll explain later." She gave Saviar's leg a sympathetic squeeze beneath the table.

  The sudden, female contact on his thigh startled Saviar, and it took great effort to suppress the urge to leap to his feet. His soup finished, he placed the spoon beside his bowl. Looking up proved nearly as difficult, but he finally met Marisole's gaze. She was smiling. "I appreciate all your hospitality, but I really do need to get some sleep."

  Disappointment flickered through Marisole's dark eyes. "Can't you at least stay for the main course?"

  Saviar would have loved that. The soup helped, but he had worked up a tremendous appetite. "I… I have a big day ahead of me tomorrow."

  "Saviar…" Marisole started, then stopped in evident frustration. She clearly wanted to tell him something, but the bardic curse restricted her to song.

  Saviar dropped all pretenses. She deserved the truth. "I threw a prince on the floor. I charged into a delicate topic and reignited a family argument-"

  Barrindar interrupted. "-and my little sister mortified you. So what? She does that all the time. And I've spent more than my share of time on my butt, thank you. Once more doesn't bother me. That's what family does."

  "Family?" Saviar did not quite understand. His relationship with his brothers seemed alien in comparison.

  "I consider you a brother," Barrindar said matter-of-factly. "Don't you?"

  "Well, I think I already have my share of irritating brothers-"

  "Oh, so now I'm irritating?" Barrindar said in mock indignation.

  "What?" Saviar abruptly realized what he had said, and the other ways his words could be interpreted. "No, Your Majesty. I'm sorry. I didn't mean you. I meant-"

  Barrindar waved Saviar off, while the girls snickered again and Marisole simply cringed. "Would you calm down, Savi. I knew what you meant. I was teasing."

  Though embarrassed in six different ways, Saviar tried to banter. "Teasing, huh? Now you definitely feel like a brother."

  They all laughed.

  Saviar looked around at the faces of the heirs. Despite their daily responsibilities, despite having recently lost a brother, they seemed happy and comfortable with life. It was a feature of the proper heirs to Bearn's throne. They took adversity in stride and handled it with grace and dignity. "I guess I do consider you all my sisters and brothers." He looked longest at Marisole, the one with whom he truly felt a kinship. "I just never thought about it in those exact words."

  "So." Barrindar gestured at Saviar's vacated seat. "Now will you join us for the main course?"

  Saviar hesitated. "I'm likely to humiliate myself again."

  Marisole smiled. "Great. We could use some entertainment."

  And Barrindar added with a wink, "We wouldn't have it any other way."

  CHAPTER 13

  a great leader must inspire his men to self-sacrificing achievements. luckily, with renshai followers, this is not hard.

  – thialnir thrudazisson

  Thelong walk down the castle hallway felt like a death march to Saviar, the tension heightened by the somberly formal dress and demeanor of the Knights of Erythane who accompanied him. Though usually proud of both sides of his heritage, at times like this, Saviar would have preferred to have a normal father. He could use a strong pat on the back, verbal encouragements, and paternal suggestions that might even include shortcuts and cheats gleaned from Ra-khir's own childhood.

  Kedrin and Ra-khir wore their knight's garb, with the proper countries' colors. Saviar dressed himself in tight-fitting gray and red, free from flowing fabrics that might hinder him in battle, from adornments that could inadvertently block a sword stroke, and selecting hues that demonstrated no allegiance or meaning. For the day, he would appear solely and purely Renshai.

  Kedrin stopped in front of a door on the ground floor of Bearn Castle, then turned to face his son and grandson. "Ready?"

  Saviar nodded.

  Ra-khir lowered his head. "Yes, sir."

  Kedrin knocked on the door, the sound echoing boldly down the great hall. Servants at the end looked toward the sound, then scurried around the corner and back to work.

  A deep voice came from within, muffled by the door. "Enter."

  Kedrin tripped the latch and pushed open the door to reveal a large, windowless room, sparsely furnished. A scarred, stained table filled the center, with half a dozen chairs placed patternlessly around it. Lit by lanterns in wide-spaced sconces, the room remained shadowed in splotches and bright in others. Thialnir sat near the far end beside tiny Minister Chaveeshia.

  The contrast was almost laughably startling. Massive as any Bearnide, Thialnir was broad-boned and featured, his golden hair wound through with silver and hanging in multiple war braids. Age had creased his cheeks and neck, but his eyes and nose remained strong, predatory. His hands on the table looked huge to Saviar, who could not miss the enormous sword strapped across the Renshai's back. Though he felt a sudden desire to run, Saviar gave no sign of it. A lifetime of train
ing would not allow him to show a hint of cowardice.

  Chaveeshia should have disappeared into the shadow of the huge warrior, yet she did not. As Minister of Local Affairs, she regularly handled the representatives of Bearn's closest neighbors, specifically Thialnir for the Renshai and Kedrin for Erythane. If she felt uncomfortable pitted as the go-between in a confrontation between her charges, she did not show it. She wore her brown hair swept up in a no-nonsense style, and her hazel eyes held a clear air of courage and command.

  The knights took the seats directly opposite Chaveeshia and Thialnir, leaving Saviar with a difficult, split-second decision. Hesitation would be seen as weakness. He could find a chair either at or away from the table at an aloof distance. Instead, he claimed the head seat and kept his features squared in interest. Whether or not he belonged there, he needed to look as if he did.

  Only Thialnir bothered to glance in Saviar's direction, and the older Renshai appeared amused. He clearly felt he could best every man in the room at once, if necessary; and he was probably right. Saviar suddenly wished he had not agreed to come, though he didn't let his trepidations show. Vulnerability only goaded predators to attack.

  Knight-Captain Kedrin cleared his throat. "Good morning, Thialnir Thrudazisson." He nodded at the Renshai. "Minister Chaveeshia."

  "Good morning, Captain," Chaveeshia replied woodenly. Thialnir only grunted.

  "I suppose you're both wondering why I've called you here."

  Thialnir spoke first. "Not really. I'm sure it has something to do with that…" He fairly spat the word, "… Northman."

  Formalities were wasted on Thialnir, and delay would only enrage him, so Kedrin went straight to the point. "As you know, they've asked King Griff to discharge the Renshai from serving in the Pirate Wars."

  "Yes," Thialnir said. He kept his gaze trained on Kedrin; though, like all Renshai, he would see any threatening movement no matter from what direction it came.

  "In exchange, they have offered their own armies to assist Bearn at no cost."

  "Yes," Thialnir said again. "In war, I would rather have a single Renshai at my side than any army."

  Kedrin blinked, and a slight smile played across his lips. "I believe he actually said, 'In war, I would rather have Rache at my side than any army.' But, as Rache was a single Renshai, the sentiment is the same."

  Now, Thialnir blinked, frowning. "Who said that?"

  Saviar tried to remain absolutely still. He knew to whom his grandfather referred.

  Kedrin's brows rose. "The world's greatest general: Santagithi. The one who masterminded the defeat of the Eastlands in the Great War." He pursed his lips, then added, "Weren't you quoting?"

  Thialnir barely moved. "I was simply stating a fact. One Renshai is more valuable than an entire Northern army."

  To Saviar's relief, Kedrin did not argue the point. "Value is not the issue here."

  Thialnir nodded his agreement. "The issue is whether or not King Griff chooses numbers over quality. Whether he spurns an ally or an enemy."

  Chaveeshia stepped in. "That's not fair, Thialnir. Northmen are not the enemy; and no one will get spurned."

  Thialnir did not bother to look at the minister, his attention still centered on Kedrin. "Northmen consider us the enemy. Those who appease our enemies cannot remain our friends."

  Kedrin regained the upper hand. "Politics are not so simple, Thialnir. For His Majesty, the decision is not whether he prefers Northmen or Renshai. He has trusted only Renshai to guard his children, as many kings before him."

  "So it's money?" Thialnir suggested. "Is that why you mentioned that the Northmen have offered armies at no cost? Would you begrudge the Renshai sustenance?"

  "Money is not the issue."

  Saviar knew the kingdom paid the Renshai to guard their heirs and for their assistance in the wars. It was a necessity. Since Renshai knew no other trade than warfare, they had no other goods or services to barter, no way to create their own economy. Instead, they sold their sword arms to Bearn in order to afford their food, clothing, swords, housing, and other necessities. The arrangement had suited both for a very long time.

  Kedrin continued, "The king cannot risk offending all the countries of the Northlands en masse. We would no longer have a source for steel, no way to craft swords."

  Iron ore had other uses, but Saviar realized his grandfather had chosen the only one that would matter to a Renshai.

  "We might also spur war."

  A light flashed through Thialnir's green eyes. "War," he said, almost reverently. "Bearn, Renshai, and their allies against the North." He smiled. "Why not? The West would no longer have to worry about ore once they owned all the mines."

  Kedrin glanced at Saviar, as if for help. Saviar could think of nothing to say, so Kedrin continued speaking, "Two wars at once? Thousands would die."

  "In glorious battle!" Thialnir half-rose from his seat in excitement.

  Kedrin sighed, closed his eyes, shook his head. He started over. "The noblest aspiration for Renshai."

  "Yes."

  "But not for Bearnides."

  "Pity."

  Kedrin added, "And you must understand that the King of Bearn's job is to do what's right for Bearn. Not necessarily what's right for Renshai."

  "And, surely, you must realize that I must do what's best for Renshai."

  "Yes." Kedrin continued cautiously. "I'm just not sure you are."

  That stopped Thialnir cold. His mouth became a stony line. His stare went icy, piercing.

  Kedrin seized on the moment. "We spoke earlier of General Santagithi. According to history, he once faced a similar decision to King Griff's. Except, in his case, the Northmen demanded Rache Kallmirsson, the young Renshai who had been like a son to Santagithi and was now the captain of his army."

  It was a part of the story Saviar had never heard.

  Thialnir's scowl deepened. "I am not altogether unfamiliar with tales of Santagithi. Remember, his daughter and grandson became the parents of two of our three tribes."

  Kedrin demonstrated his own knowledge of Renshai history. "The tribe of Rache stemmed from his grandson, Rache Garnsson, named for Rache Kallmirsson. And his daughter, Mitrian, was the mother of the tribe of Tannin."

  Thialnir nodded gruffly. "And I don't recall any tales of Rache being surrendered to Northmen in the name of peace."

  "Because he wasn't surrendered," Kedrin admitted. "Santagithi held off the Northern armies with carefully worded responses for as long as possible. Eventually, war became unavoidable."

  Thialnir's full attention went back to Kedrin. "So, you're telling me that the greatest general of all time chose war over giving up his only Renshai." His eyes narrowed. "Aren't you making my point?"

  "Maybe," Kedrin said. "Except that when Rache found out the underlying cause of the war, he rode North, intending to sacrifice himself for Santagithi and the others. In that case, the Renshai himself made the decision to allow his allies to live in the peace he knew they preferred rather than die for him. Now, I doubt he surrendered himself per se-"

  Any Renshai would understand Rache's intention: to die in glorious combat taking as many Northmen as possible with him. Saviar got the point, but he wondered if Thialnir could. The Renshai had a duty, not only to their own people, but to their allies as well.

  Thialnir sat in silence, head cocked to one side, clearly considering. He had come a long way in his many years on the Council. Initially, every situation was black or white, right or wrong. The Renshai solution was the only solution. Age had mellowed the old warrior to the point where he could consider nuances and politics, and he seemed more troubled than appreciative of his newfound diplomacy. His entire head turned suddenly to Saviar, and his gaze remained there.

  Saviar forced himself to meet the intense green stare without flinching. He dared not show any fear.

  When Thialnir finally spoke, he used the Renshai tongue, "Young Renshai, send the others away."

  Though Thialnir spoke fluent Commo
n Trading, Saviar acted as translator. "He wants to speak with me alone."

  Kedrin and Chaveeshia rose immediately. Only Ra-khir hesitated, clearly worried for his son's welfare. Nevertheless, he did as Thialnir had bade and followed the others from the room.

  While the others filed out, Saviar seized the opportunity to assure no sleeve or legging hampered his movements, that no furniture could impede the sudden draw of his sword.

  As the door clicked shut, Thialnir's attention snapped directly onto Saviar.

  Saviar's hand went instinctively to his hilt.

  "So, you're the one supposed to beat sense into me, eh?" Thialnir ran his hands across the smooth surface of the table. "I'd have thought they'd use your brother."

  Saviar told the truth. "It was my idea, sir." He met Thialnir's gaze levelly.

  "Are you challenging me?"

  "I'm prepared to, sir. If it becomes necessary."

  The two stared at one another for several moments, neither giving ground. Thialnir's brows rose in slight increments until they nearly reached his hairline. "Saviar, what do you think of this whole situation?"

  The last thing Saviar expected was for the violent, no-nonsense leader of the Renshai to ask his opinion. He stalled. "I think, sir…"

  "Yes."

  "… the whole situation…"

  "Yes?"

  "… is damned."

  Thialnir chuckled. "Damned indeed, Saviar. What do you propose we do about it?"

  Emboldened by his recent successes, Saviar spoke his mind. "I believe, sir, that the Renshai deserve consideration. We've remained loyal to Bearn for centuries, we've earned the right to respect, and we're an invaluable part of Western society with which no one should trifle."

  Thialnir made a thoughtful noise that invited Saviar to continue.

  "But our own gods chose King Griff as ruler on high of the Westlands, and I trust their judgment implicitly. Have you ever known the man to make an unfair or unreasonable decision?"

  "I don't agree with everything he decides, Saviar, if that's what you mean."