Tae eased himself from the covers, though it seemed pointless. He did not yet have the strength to do much more than hurl himself out the window to his death.
The man in Eastern silver and black turned. He swept his hat from his head to his hand.
Tae recognized him instantly and found himself incapable of keeping that knowledge to himself, “Talamir?” Myriad questions sprang to mind, but he did not voice them.
“Yes, Sire.” Talamir moved nearer and bowed.
Tae only stared. “But you’re . . . you’re . . .”
“Dead?” Talamir supplied.
It was the right word, but clearly stupid, so Tae discarded it. “Obviously not.You’re . . . my . . . general?”
“Yes, Sire.” Talamir came even closer, standing at the side of Tae’s bed. He looked fresh and strong. If he had taken part in the long battle, he had suffered no injuries and cleaned up well. “I couldn’t use the armor, of course, or the beautiful helmet.”
“Of course.” Tae knew the laws of Renshai well. The answer to all his questions came to him in a rush of logic. “This was my father’s idea.”
Talamir shuffled his feet, touched his hilt. “I’m not permitted to say, my lord.”
“Of course not. Nothing Weile Kahn does is ever ‘on the record.’ ” Tae forced a smile. He knew what had to come next but had spent too much time flirting with death to care. “Does Subikahn know . . . you’re . . . alive?”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Good.”
Talamir’s brows rose. “Is it?”
Tae suppressed a sigh and tried not to hesitate. “Yes, it’s good. Subikahn will need someone to look after him, someone to love him, after I’m dead.”
“Dead, Sire?” Talamir continued to stare at Tae, though he still avoided the king’s eyes. “But the healers told me you’re past the point of uncertainty.Your wounds are definitely healing, Sire.”
Imorelda crawled out from under the bed, yawning widely and stretching each leg. *I told you.*
Tae ignored the cat. “True, but you’ve come to kill me, haven’t you?”
Talamir back stepped. “Sire?”
Imorelda stopped in mid-stretch and jumped onto the bed, as if to defend her master. *Sire?* she repeated, equally surprised.
Tae merely studied Talamir, trying to catch the gaze that kept dodging his. The Renshai still saw him as an authority figure, one he obviously intended to obey.
Talamir cleared his throat. “Sire, I have no intention of committing regicide, even were you not the beloved father of my . . . my . . .” His voice faded into nothingness, clearly worried to offend by whatever word he chose.
“Beloved?”The word caused Tae physical pain, and his hand went to the agony still brewing in his lung. “Talamir, you must know by now. Subikahn hates me.”
“Never, Sire.”
“He hates me for what I did to you. To both of you.” Tae closed his eyes. “And without my son, I have no reason to go on.”
A claw dug through the blankets into Tae’s leg, and Imorelda glided up to rest beneath his arm. *What about me? Aren’t I worth something?*
Wincing, eyes flashing open, Tae took Imorelda into his arms. *Of course.You’re worth your weight in fish heads, my darling; but Subikahn is my son.*
Talamir bit his lip, as if trying to contain words that burned his tongue. In the end, they slipped out, “I didn’t rape him. I would never do that to anyone, but especially not to the one I love more than my own self.”
Tae raised a hand to stem the tide. “I know. Subikahn convinced me, and I’ve had several days lying here with nothing to do but think. It took me a while to figure out why you confessed to a crime you never committed.”
“I did it for Subikahn.”
“Yes.” For a long time, the Renshai’s selflessness had defied Tae’s understanding. “You did it to protect Subikahn, to save him from execution.”
Talamir nodded. “I was dead either way, whether for rape or for consensual sodomy. But, in the latter case, you would have had to execute Prince Subikahn with me.”
“I would never have done that.”
Talamir looked directly at the floor now. “I couldn’t take that chance.”
Imorelda purred beneath Tae’s touch.
“But that’s not why I came to see you, Sire.” Talamir continued to avoid Tae’s gaze, clearly uncomfortable and needing to change the subject. “As your general, I came to inform you of the officers’ meeting taking place in the Strategy Room. It’s my job to either accompany you or represent you.”
Tae considered. Matrinka had kept him apprised of the war as it progressed, and he knew this phase had all but ended. “With help, I think I can make it. Someone needs to tell them not to celebrate too quickly, that the next round we’ll face more men and many more giants.”
Talamir stiffened and finally looked toward Tae again. “Next round? You mean . . . it’s not over?”
“Not nearly.” Tae remembered the jumble of information he had taken from the pirates’ minds. “They underestimated us once, but they will not do so again. They made a lot of assumptions and fatal mistakes, expecting us to have no magic, for example. Thinking they would find us as consistent as their alsona. They did not expect the Northmen, believing their lands uninhabitable. Though they had a bit of experience with Renshai, they did not anticipate them organized and in such numbers. Our enemy came at us cocky and overconfident, but the loss of one of their Kjempemagiska has taught them otherwise. Next time, they will attack in true force; and, without the elves and their magic, we will be overcome.”
“Overcome? In battle? Never!” It was the only response a Renshai could give, yet it demonstrated the worst vice of the tribe.
Tae knew he had to attend the meeting. Talamir might be incapable of delivering the proper message. In addition to believing whole heartedly in their own skill, Renshai had a tendency to blurt news that should be handled with subtlety and caution.
Talamir turned. “I’ll see you in the Strategy Room, Sire.”
Tae could not let him go, not yet. “Talamir?”
The Renshai looked back, hat still clutched in his hand. “Yes, Sire?”
“I’m sorry, Talamir. I made a huge mistake.”
“Mistake, Sire?” Talamir turned around, and this time he met Tae’s gaze. “Your reaction was completely understandable.”
It was? Tae found himself incapable of blinking. Imorelda’s purring died, and she went utterly still.
“And your strategy was brilliant. I could have saved myself a lot of pain and worry had I seen through it sooner.”
Bewildered, Tae let Talamir speak.
“You had to test us. I mean, you had to make absolutely certain I loved Subikahn for himself, not for his wealth or power.”
So far, Talamir spoke with eminent intelligence.
“Ye-es?” Tae encouraged.
“And you had to make sure I hadn’t beguiled Subikahn, that he had entered the relationship of his own accord.”
Tae saw where Talamir was going. And, though they both knew it was a game, he played along. “And that Subikahn had the fortitude to take my place someday.”
“So,” Talamir said, “you concocted this whole terrible scheme but made sure your father would give me the means to survive it.” A slight smile played over Talamir’s lips as he looked askance at Tae.
*You’re making this up!* Imorelda looked from man to man. *You’re making this all up!*
“And,” Tae added thoughtfully. “Had I directly asked you to lead my army, you would have refused, given your need to return to the Renshai. This way, I got you.”
“How very clever,” Talamir exclaimed a bit too eagerly. “I would have missed that part.” He winked. “And when I’m finished explaining all of this to Prince Subikahn, I’m certain he will forgive you.”
Tae grinned. He could think of nothing more important than reclaiming the love and respect of his son. “And after I’ve explained it all to Weile Kahn,
I may disappear under mysterious circumstances.” Despite his words, Tae reveled in the chance to actually appear as if he had conned his inhumanly clever father. He just had to be careful not to harm Weile’s reputation while rescuing his relationship with his only son.
“Oh, I think you’ll find he’s proud of you. I suspect it’s been many decades since anyone manipulated Weile Kahn. To have one’s son finally surpass him, I’m told, is the secret dream of every father.”
Tae looked over the Renshai in a new light and bestowed the greatest compliment he could think of at the moment. “Talamir, I never thought I’d say this to anyone, ever, given that I have no daughters. But, I’m proud to call you son-in-law.”
Talamir fairly beamed. “I’ll wait outside, Sire. Knock when you’re ready, and we’ll go to the strategy meeting together.”
EPILOGUE
Hard-won friendships often have an intensity that regular relationships never match.
—Bard Darris
THE CLANG OF WEAPONRY lasted through the night and continued in small, scattered pockets into the morning. As the fresh troops from the distant beaches faded, the soldiers who had managed to sleep through the night took over. Acrid smoke floated over Béarn, and Ra-khir could see flames blazing from the anchored ships, the water glowing red as wine. Apparently, the continental allied archers had performed the job they had failed at earlier, or scouts had braved the sharks to torch the pirates’ ships directly.
Ra-khir had no trouble leaving Thialnir to handle the Renshai. The knight’s job had technically ended the moment he won them legitimacy for the course of the war, and the Renshai would fight without strategy or pattern anyway. They seemed ideally suited for cleaning up the chaotic remnants of the once-mighty pirates. Ra-khir had a more pressing matter, one that he had arranged at the short officers’ meeting the previous evening.
When the last of the enemies fell, Béarn had promised a massive feast: in the banquet hall for the commanders, civilian and military leaders, and royalty; outside on the beach for the regular and volunteer soldiers. Then, the Knights of Erythane would serve another purpose, maintaining suitable decorum and tradition.Tedious rituals and long-winded speeches would rule the hours before and after the food got served, interrupted at proper intervals by entertainers, animals, and bards. Though he had learned to respect the procedures, Ra-khir had never learned to love them. He did not look forward to the ceremony, other than the fact that its start would mean that he had finished the business that faced him now.
Ra-khir found Saviar crumpled in the sand beyond the dunes, where the battles had long finished, his clothing tattered and his skin striped with nicks and blood. The knight’s heart rate quickened, a startled pounding in his ears. Then, he noticed Subikahn sitting calmly nearby, sword meticulously balanced across his knees. “Relax, Papa. He’s only sleeping.”
A cold rush of relief washed through Ra-khir, nearly as uncomfortable as the fear that had clutched him a moment earlier. “I’ve never seen anyone sleep like that.” He gestured at Saviar.
“Apparently, you’ve never seen anyone fall asleep standing up.”
“No,” Ra-khir admitted. “What are you doing here?”
“Making sure no one uses his lifeless-looking body as a battle dummy.” Subikahn yawned, his own exhaustion clear and understandable. “I can’t believe you’re still running around.”
“I slept,” Ra-khir admitted. “After the officers’ meeting I couldn’t keep my eyes open.” He thought it better not to mention that he had caught himself slipping away twice at the meeting. Only Tae Kahn’s grave pronouncement regarding the future war had finally shocked him enough to finish. “Your father was there, at the meeting. Out of bed.”
“I know.” Subikahn yawned again. “I talked to Talamir last night.”
Ra-khir laughed.
Subikahn gave him a strange look.
“Sorry. I was just thinking of how odd things got. A Knight of Erythane as general of Renshai, and a Renshai as general of the Eastlands. The best seers in the land could never have predicted that.”
Now, Subikahn also laughed. “Who was it that said, ‘War makes for the strangest of alliances?’ ”
Ra-khir knew the answer, much to his chagrin. “That would be General Santagithi. And the full text continues, ‘ . . . separates the incompetent from the skilled and the petty from the truly important.’ ”
Subikahn widened his eyes, clearly surprised. Apparently, no one in the past had known to whom to attribute the quotation.
“My father has taken an intense interest in that ancient general, especially now that Kedrin’s actually met several people from the town named for him.” Ra-khir rolled his eyes. King Griff had spent most of his life there, with his Santagithian stepfather, but Kedrin had never before met actual warriors from that Western nation. The Knight-Captain’s excited chattering had broken into Ra-khir’s precious resting time, and he had fallen asleep to war quotations. “Apparently, Santagithi’s military studies are from a book written by him, and they’re actually acclaimed for their strategies.”
“And how is Chymmerlee?”
“Exhausted and starving, but apparently unhurt. Matrinka said she’d never seen a woman eat that much in a sitting. She’s sleeping soundly in a private room, away from the wounded soldiers.” Ra-khir looked pointedly at Subikahn. “I intended to present Chymmerlee to the Council as one of the war’s greatest heroes, but she made me vow not to tell anyone what she did, never to speak of her magic.”
Subikahn bobbed his head wearily. “Saviar made a similar promise. I didn’t, but he’d kill me if I told you anything more.”
Ra-khir did not press. He would never break a promise, nor cajole anyone else to do so either. “She did say that two elves had assisted her, enhancing her powers, from the top of Béarn Castle. Without them, she could not have lasted nearly as long. She asked me to thank them and do my best to swear them to secrecy as well.”
Subikahn maintained eye contact, though his lids drooped over bloodshot whites. “And have you done so?”
“Tem’aree’ay had no difficulty agreeing, but she denied having a companion. She said Chymmerlee must have made a mistake; she alone strengthened the magic.” Ra-khir tried to read something more than exhaustion from Subikahn’s expression. “What do you think?”
Subikahn yawned. “I think . . . Chymmerlee must have been mistaken. Unless . . .” He dismissed his own suggestion with a doubtful shake.
“Unless?” Ra-khir encouraged.
“Unless . . . Ivana?”
Ivana had shown no signs of intelligence for eighteen years. Ra-khir hated to admit his thoughts had gone in the same direction before he dismissed them. “It seems unlikely.”
“Unlikely,” Subikahn echoed. He looked longingly at Saviar. “Can you take over as bodyguard? If I don’t get some sleep soon, I’m going to keel over. Hopefully, enemies will mistake us both for corpses and won’t bother to stab us full of holes.”
Ra-khir appreciated Subikahn’s loyalty to his brother and understood his current distraction. “I’ll do better. I need to take Saviar to the castle for a meeting. Why don’t you tag along, and we’ll find you a safe bed?”
Subikahn did not argue. He closed his eyes while Ra-khir awakened Saviar, and the three men trudged across the sand together.
By the time Ra-khir and Saviar arrived at the Strategy Room, the others had already assembled. They opened the door to a rumble of speculative conversation that faded into questioning silence. King Griff sat in his place at the head of the table, Bard Darris to his left and Queen Matrinka to his right. King Humfreet of Erythane was seated beside Matrinka, Captain Erik Leifsson of Nordmir at his other side. Across from him sat General Valr Magnus of Aerin and, much to Ra-khir’s surprise, Calistin. Two seats remained, the one beside the Nordmirian, which Saviar reluctantly took, and the one at the far end from the King of Béarn, which protocol indicated should belong to Ra-khir, who had assembled them.
Erik’s te
enaged son, Verdondi, sat on the floor outside the circle, along with a Béarnian page already hurriedly taking notes for the Sage. Recalling the time he had hauled a curious Saviar to a Council meeting, Ra-khir had had little trouble agreeing to let Verdondi observe. Destined to take his father’s place someday, he should witness instances of diplomacy, even one as uncomfortable as this one threatened to become. To deny Erik’s request, Ra-khir would have had to give a reason, one that might have raised suspicions in the mind of Nordmir’s representative. Ra-khir wanted to see an honest, not a rehearsed, reaction.
Ra-khir glanced at Saviar to rebuke him for his rudeness, then bowed gallantly and properly to each guest in order of rank. Only when he had dispensed with the proper amenities did he take his own seat. “I apologize profusely for arriving late. I was searching for our last representative, still among the combatants, and he required some grooming.
Saviar put a hand over his mouth, presumably to hide a smile. Clearly, he appreciated that his father had not mentioned finding him in a crumpled heap.
Ra-khir mouthed all the meeting preliminaries, though he knew that, absent a Knight of Erythane, they might well have gotten skipped. At length, he reached his final prefacing announcement: “In the interests of full disclosure, I must mention that the man representing the Renshai, and the one serving as a captain of Aerin, are my sons.”
Valr Magnus rose so suddenly, he had to grab his chair to keep it from toppling. He stared at Calistin. “Your father is a Knight of Erythane? But I thought—”
Calistin grinned, obviously amused by the general’s consternation. “Calistin Ra-khirsson. I believe I mentioned that.”
Magnus looked at Ra-khir, who dutifully bowed. “Sir Ra-khir Kedrin’s son, Knight to their Majesties, King Humfreet of Erythane and High King Griff of Béarn.”
Flight of the Renshai Page 72