Flight of the Renshai

CHAPTER 39

It seemed to Saviar Ra-khirsson that they might just as well have met with the Mages of Myrcide smeared in filth and reeking of creek water for all the good his arguments did them. Again and again, he presented his points, using different words, different tones, his most eloquent pleadings. Jeremilan and the others only shook their heads sadly. Saviar could have achieved the same results by shouting at the mountains.

Saviar sighed, rolling his gaze over the craggy walls, the strange, one-sided windows, and the twenty-six adult mages ranged on various pieces of furniture. He sought out and found Subikahn leaning casually against the wall. The twin only shook his dark head sadly. He had nothing to add. Chymmerlee crouched in front of the group, facing Saviar, her hands clenched and held to her lips.

Saviar tried again. "You're not understanding the gravity of this situation."

Jeremilan spoke politely, with only a hint of impatience. "I believe we are."

"If Bearn falls…"

"If," Jeremilan repeated. "Bearn is very strong and has many allies."

"Deservedly so." Saviar tried to make a new point where the others had failed. "Despite its position as high kingdom, Bearn grants great freedom of rulership, of worship, of usage to all the Western countries beneath her. Her king is fair, her decisions just, her taxes minimal."

Jeremilan did not argue. "Yes."

"If Bearn falls," Saviar started again, this time not pausing to allow interruption, "our lives are essentially, quite possibly literally, over."

"We don't know that," Jeremilan said.

Saviar would not succumb to such a weak argument. "It's true the future is unknown, but only a dolt blinds himself to its clear predictions. So far, we know that the enemy wishes only to kill us, that they make no other demands and slaughter those who even attempt to parley. To assume a bright future in the face of that knowledge is idiocy of the highest order."

A murmur swept the room. Young Saviar had not quite called their centuries-old leader a fool. Twice.

"Careful," Subikahn mouthed.

Jeremilan rose, clutching the arm of his plush chair with one withered hand. "Are you suggesting we're stupid if we don't follow your advice?"

"I'm only saying…" Though glad he had finally riled his audience, Saviar chose his words with care. He did not want their new enthusiasm to end in magic cast at himself. "… that Bearn needs us. And that you stand to lose your very lives if you don't assist her."

"And if we do assist?" Jeremilan's voice remained strong despite his age. "We will all survive?"

"I… can't promise that," Saviar admitted.

"In fact," Jeremilan pressed his advantage. "We are certain to lose at least a few lives in battle, especially when the enemy realizes we're the source of any magic."

"We can protect you." Now that Jeremilan had, at least, imagined the possibility of helping, Saviar could not afford to back down. "We will keep your casualties to a minimum."

"The two of you?"

"What? No. All of us. All of Bearn's allies would certainly-"

"Would they?"

Again, the question caught Saviar off guard. It seemed perfectly obvious to him.

"Because people tend to revile things they don't understand. In Shadimar's day, people shunned, despised, or pretended to be mages. The Renshai saw our strangeness as reason enough to annihilate us."

Saviar threw up his hands, wondering if the mages would benefit from younger leadership. "That was a long time ago. Things have changed."

"Have they?"

"Of course. Centuries cannot pass without progress. Swords have become sharper, stronger, cheaper. Food storage techniques have advanced to the point where a king can keep a shed of meat safely through the winter, preventing starvation anywhere in his kingdom. Horses are larger, sturdier. They can travel longer distances. Elves, elves live among us. So very, very much has changed."

"But not basic human nature."

Saviar rolled his eyes. "Even what you call basic human nature."

"Is that so?" Jeremilan started to pace, and the others respectfully gave him a path. "There are no wars?"

"Well…" Saviar could hardly deny them, given what he was asking the mages to do.

"Northern tribes no longer squabble over territory? Countries no longer need borders? Nationalities no longer exist because Easterners, Westerners, and Northmen breed freely together?"

Saviar did not see the purpose in this argument. "You can take anything to its extreme-"

"And where are these elves you spoke of? Why can't you use their magic?"

"Hopefully, someone close to the elves will convince them to come also."

"Why does someone have to convince them?" Jeremilan stopped to face Saviar directly. "Don't they walk freely among you?"

"Well, no," Saviar was forced to admit. "But they could if they wished to. Elves are… well, elves.They're capricious and unfocused, the very definition of chaos. They've lived reclusive lives for as long as the world has existed. That doesn't change in a decade."

"Are you certain humans didn't drive them to seclusion?"

"No!" Saviar did not have time to divulge the entire history of the elfin race coming to live on Midgard. At one time, the elves had tried to slaughter the humans, whom they believed responsible for the destruction of Alfheim. Later, they had seen elfin/human hybrids as the answer to their ever-shrinking population. "In fact, the king of Bearn married one, and one of the Bernian princesses is half-elfin."

"True as that may be…"

It irked Saviar that Jeremilan left the possibility open that he was lying.

"… the reasons elves gave for going underground may have been phrased self-protectively. If they stated they were hiding from humans, the humans might see them as enemies and actively hunt them down."

Saviar made a disgusted noise. "You have a wondrous knack for seeing the worst in everything, sir. No great civilization was ever built on pessimism."

"True." Jeremilan smiled. "But the man who sees the worst in everything rarely walks into danger."

"Only because he never walks into anything."

Jeremilan clearly did not see that as the insult Saviar intended. The old man merely smiled. "We have survived as long as we have because we remain secluded, like elves. No one knows we exist, and we wish to keep it that way. I have lived through the rise, fall, and destruction of many Northern tribes, including the one that tried to utterly destroy the mages."

Saviar hesitated, at first thinking that Myrcide had survived two attempted massacres.Then it occurred to him that Jeremilan referred to the Renshai, that the elder did not realize the tribe had refash ioned itself and returned, much the way the Myrcidians had. Saviar saw no reason to correct that misconception now. It might goad him to break his promise to his brother. "You've remained safe because humans who had no knowledge of magic and elves would have no reason to seek you. These invaders, however-"

"Are an unknown threat that reportedly might know some magic, according to you. We'd rather face that unknown than the known certainty of war."

Saviar pursed his lips. He had absolutely nothing more to say. "That's your final answer?"

"It is." Jeremilan's response held no hesitation.

Saviar glanced around the room at the silent adults. "Is no one brave enough to defend his home, his tribe, his family?"

A few murmurs swept the crowd, but no one came forward.

"Very well," Saviar said, walking toward his brother. "You have tonight to reconsider. Subikahn and I will be leaving in the morning."

"No!" Jeremilan's voice seemed to thunder through the confines. "You may not leave."

The demand blindsided Saviar. He whirled back to face the mages' leader, hand falling to his hilt. "You mean to hold us prisoners?"

Subikahn silently moved away from the wall.

The entire room seemed to shift backward, though no one seated actually arose. Jeremilan's tone softened, and his gaze followed Saviar's hand to his sword. "You have to understand. The mages must stay together; we cannot risk anyone finding us."

Saviar appreciated their point, but it did not matter. He would damn himself to Hel before abandoning Bearn to thugs and murderers. "The West needs us; we're going. The only way to stop us is to kill us; but, if you try, we will take many of you with us."

"No!" Chymmerlee popped to her feet. "No fighting." She ran to stand directly in front of the twins. "Pawpaw, can't you make an exception? I'm sure they won't tell anyone about us." She turned to face Saviar. "Would you?"

"I wouldn't," Saviar promised. Subikahn, he noted, said nothing.

Several of the mages shifted.

Saviar clamped his hilt tighter. "At the first sign of a flaring aura, any sign whatsoever of magic, I'm going to attack."

The mages went deliberately still. Jeremilan's nostrils flared. "You can't kill all of us."

"Perhaps not." Saviar would not dub any battle impossible. "But how many mages can you spare, Jeremilan?"

They stood in silent stalemate for several moments. Saviar stared out over the group, watching for the slightest glow. Blind to any potential magic, Subikahn waited anxiously behind his brother. Any threatening movement Saviar made would translate into a lethal assault on the mages by his brother. Realizing that, Saviar made no overtly hostile motion.Yet.

Jeremilan spat. "We never should have saved your life. We should have let you die in the dirt like a wounded deer."

Chymmerlee sucked air through her teeth.

Mean as the statement was meant to be, Saviar could hardly argue. "I appreciate what you did for me, but it does not change the fact that the West needs us. Your mistake, Jeremilan, was not saving me. It is in choosing not to stand with the West-and fight."

Jeremilan turned away in a savage movement, but made no other motion Saviar might construe as magic. Beside him, Subikahn stiffened. Chymmerlee edged closer to both Renshai. "Grab me," she whispered.

The request caught Saviar off his guard. "What?"

Subikahn took over. Seizing Chymmerlee around the waist, he drew her closer. A knife appeared suddenly in his other hand, migrating to Chymmerlee's throat. "Let us go unimpeded, or we kill her."

Chymmerlee jerked her head to look sideways at him, and Subikahn had to readjust to keep from accidentally cutting her. Though Chymmerlee had made the suggestion, she had clearly expected Saviar's touch, not Subikahn's.

Jeremilan whirled back to face the young men. "No!" he screamed. Light flared momentarily.

"No!" Chymmerlee repeated. "Don't do it."

To Saviar's relief, the magic died as swiftly as it had arisen. He had no real intention of killing either of them.

Jeremilan sagged, wearing every one of his years. "Please." His tone lost all of its former belligerence and strength. "Go, then. Just don't hurt our Chymmerlee."

Saviar hated to leave things this way. "I promise, sir. So long as your mages do not attack or harass us, we will leave in peace. Chymmerlee will be released, unharmed, we will say nothing to anyone of the mages, and we will return here when we can."

Subikahn had to speak. "So long as you allow us to do so safely."

Jeremilan waved a hand feebly. Every mage's eye followed their leader, hung on his every word. "Thank you. Will you, at least, allow us to seal this deal with magic?"

Saviar hesitated.

Subikahn did not. Still clutching Chymmerlee, he explained in no uncertain terms, "We don't use magic, and we have no way of knowing exactly what spell you've placed upon us."

"Nor do we know if we can trust your word," Jeremilan countered.

Saviar knew he could remind the mages that he currently held the upper hand, but it seemed better to save that as a last resort.

Again, Subikahn took over the negotiations. "Saviar's father is a Knight of Erythane. His grandfather is the Knight-Captain who allowed himself to be executed rather than break a vow, even to one who deserved no loyalty."

"That sentence got commuted," Saviar explained, so as not to seem a liar in case Jeremilan ever discovered that Knight-Captain Kedrin still lived. "And lifted when the rightful king retook his throne, but not through any action of my grandfather's. I take the integrity of my line extremely seriously."

"A fact that never ceases to irritate me," Subikahn said softly, though at least a few of the mages probably heard him. "Saviar intends to follow his father into the knighthood."

Though startled by Subikahn's knowledge, Saviar made a effort not to demonstrate his surprise. No matter the source of the statement, it was truth nonetheless.

Jeremilan wrung his hands. Saviar could almost hear the insides of his skull spinning, considering his options from every angle. The situation clearly did not afford him the time he needed to think through every possibility. "You promise to release my great granddaughter…"

Great granddaughter? Saviar realized that explained why Jeremilan had given up so abruptly. It occurred to him that she appeared to be the youngest of the mages, which meant they had not had a healthy baby born in many years.

"… unhurt, keep our existence and whereabouts a secret, return to us, and…" Jeremilan fixed his gaze on Subikahn, "… assure that your brother does the same."

"I so vow, but only with the reassurance that we are free to come and go as we please from this time onward." Saviar could hear the hissing of exchanged whispers behind him, between Subikahn and Chymmerlee, but could not make out what they said.

"Agreed." Jeremilan heaved a great sigh. "Now, release my great granddaughter."

"Not yet," Subikahn said, before Saviar could answer. "Not until we're safely beyond reach of your magic."

"You don't trust me?" Jeremilan's face purpled. "We've saved your brother's life. I've promised. What more could you possibly need?"

"My-my brother's just being overly cautious." Saviar cast a warning glance at Subikahn, who still held Chymmerlee against himself. He seemed to be enjoying it a bit too much for Saviar's liking. "Of course we trust-"

"I don't," Subikahn broke in rudely. "I'm sorry, but I can't leave fully armed enemies directly at my back. I will know if anyone follows, and Chymmerlee will remain with us until I'm absolutely convinced of our safety. If you pursue us, you will have broken your vow, and we will no longer be bound by any of it."

Again, they seemed to have reached a stalemate, one that seemed utterly unnecessary to Saviar. He wondered if it had something to do with the conversation between his brother and Chymmerlee.

"It's all right," Chymmerlee said, without a trace of the fear she should be feeling in a hostage situation. "I know my way and how to stay safe. Saviar won't let any harm come to me, will you?"

Saviar wished he could control the blush taking over his cheeks. He did not want to look like an awkward teen in this life-or-death situation. "Of course not."

Jeremilan stepped aside and gestured toward the door, a formality to his otherwise casual movements betraying the discomfort he tried to hide. He surely did not like the arrangement, but he seemed reluctantly committed. "Be careful with her, Saviar."

"I promise," he said, letting Subikahn and Chymmerlee precede him through the exit. All of his promises seemed ultimately moot. Even if Bearn won the war, he would probably die in the battles. If their enemy won, there would be no survivors at all.

Saviar allowed Subikahn to lead the way, knowing his more stealthy brother would find the quickest route to Bearn that would also befuddle anyone who dared try to pursue them. He had no idea how Subikahn managed it. The woodlands twisted his own sense of direction, and even the position of the sun became difficult to follow through the towering branches. He kept his attention on Chymmerlee, assisting her over deadfalls, around thick patches of brambles, and through copses of knotted branches.

Saviar also kept his ears attuned for sounds of a chase. Jeremilan had promised not to follow, at the risk of revealing the mages and losing his great granddaughter's life; but the Renshai could forgive the elder breaking that particular vow. Every tiny sound jarred Saviar, forcing him to analyze it. He found his back muscles tightening as he imagined some amorphous magic spearing through his back.

"Are we far enough now?" Saviar asked for the fifth time in as many hours.

Light as a dancer, Chymmerlee leaped over a decaying stump, avoiding the upright, jagged edges. "Not yet, my sweet. Not yet."

The forest gradually faded into darkness, and Saviar found himself straining his vision for hazards, twice tripping over roots and rocks rendered invisible by the encroaching twilight. The second time, he nearly pulled Chymmerlee down with him. He caught himself about to swear, cleaning up his language so as not to offend her.

Subikahn turned, but Saviar could not see his expression in the darkness. "Time to set camp?"

Saviar looked at Chymmerlee. "Is it safe to stop?"

Chymmerlee glanced through the brush. "I think so. If we don't draw attention to ourselves."

Subikahn grunted. "You mean, no fire."

"No fire," Chymmerlee agreed, clearly searching for something. Apparently frustrated, she mumbled incoherently, made a broad gesture, and a patch of light appeared in front of her. Though not particularly strong, it cut through the forest darkness like a knife, revealing the ground and all of its stumbling blocks. With movements of one hand, she caused it to roll across the ground like a brilliant fog. Finally, she let it sit on a relatively flat area without jutting roots, large branches, or stumps. She picked up a few errant rocks and branches, tossing them into the darkness. "There. That should be comfortable enough for sitting and sleeping."

Saviar and Subikahn only stared as she worked.

Subikahn regained his voice first. "Doesn't that sort of negate our… not building… a fire?"

Chymmerlee shook her head. "Not really, no. The light stops abruptly at the edges of the spell. You can't see it from a distance or smell it, like you can a fire. And it's only there for as long as we need it." The light disappeared abruptly, leaving Saviar half-blinded.

Saviar blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to regain his night vision. "Couldn't you have done that sooner? Maybe before I broke my toe and nearly hurled you into a tree?"

"I'm sorry." The light snapped back into existence. "Do you want me to try to heal your toe?"

Saviar closed his eyes, replaying the sudden flare on the backs of his eyelids. "Not necessary. It's not actually broken. I was exaggerating to make a point."

"Oh," Chymmerlee said, with a hint of confusion. Apparently, such a tactic did not exist in her culture. "So your toe's… all right?"

"Just a bit bruised, I'm sure."

Chymmerlee took Saviar's hand. "Why don't you let me check, just in case?"

Saviar smiled, staring into her soft, blue-gray eyes.

Subikahn snorted. He used a tone usually reserved for babies, "Poor widdle Savi. Did 'ou stub 'ou's widdle toe?" He grabbed Saviar's arm. "Come on. We need to practice." He called over his shoulder. "Chymmer, can you dig up some food?Your mages didn't exactly provision us for our trip."

"You could hardly expect them to, under the circumstances." Saviar shook free of Subikahn's grip. He waited until Chymmerlee left, killing her light, to add, "Very nice. Make me look like an infant in front of her."

Subikahn threw up his hands. "Don't attack the messenger. You were the one acting infantile; I just pointed it out."

"I'll remember that the next time you're trying to grab an intimate moment with Talamir."

Subikahn stopped, stiffening. "Shut up, Saviar." Darkness hid his expression, but his tone dripped warning.

Saviar drew Motfrabelonning. "You're begging for a spar, my brother."

Subikahn turned away. "Do your svergelse here. I'll find my own place." He started walking.

"What's wrong with a bit of sparring?" Saviar called after him, but Subikahn never paused, disappearing into the woodland darkness. He probably left me next to a bunch of spearlike broken trees and massive patches of nettles. Saviar stepped around the area to get a clearer feel. Wants me to trip and skewer myself. Saviar did not believe a word of his own thoughts. Renshai practiced in the best and worst of conditions, training for every contingency.

Saviar lunged into violent svergelse, his movements smooth and strong, his sword a perfect extension of his arm. It felt good to have his grace back, his quickness and his power. He had felt naked and helpless without them. Now, he entered a higher level of thought in which all of him became a glorious weapon, sheering through enemies with the ease of a knife cleaving butter. No one and nothing could stop him. He dedicated his competence and his life to Sif, the goddess of Renshai, and her son Modi, Wrath.

Saviar did not stop until he fairly collapsed with exhaustion, and Chymmerlee was there the instant the swordwork ended. "You're beautiful," she whispered.

"What?"

"You're beautiful," Chymmerlee repeated. "You move with the flawless elegance of a swan combined with the speed and power of a galloping horse. It's amazing to watch you and impossible not to."

It felt to Saviar as if he blushed from the roots of his hair to the bottoms of his feet. "I'm… nothing special. Just a soldier flailing around with a sword." Among Renshai, at least, it was essentially true. "Now you, Chymmerlee.You're beautiful."

"See if you still feel that way after you eat what I've found. I didn't want to range too far."

"I'm hungry enough to eat dirt." Saviar sheathed his sword. "I'm sure whatever you found will suit me." So long as you found a lot of it.

Chymmerlee led Saviar back to the place she had chosen, reactivating her light to reveal Subikahn sitting on a fallen log, stuffing his mouth with shoots. "These are really good," he said without bothering to swallow. "You should try them."

"I intend to," Saviar replied. "Assuming they're not all already in your mouth."

"There're plenty for everyone," Chymmerlee assured him, gesturing at piles of tender shoots, purple berries, and multicolored flowers. "I know you men prefer meat, but it's not safe to eat it raw. And my light doesn't give off any heat."

" 's all right," Subikahn said around another mouthful. "This is delicious. Very satisfying."

Saviar doubted he would find it equally so, given the enormous difference in size between his twin and himself. He wondered how Chymmerlee had developed such a vast store of knowledge regarding wild foods. Surely the mages could magic-up their own sustenance, without need for scavenging. Saviar crouched beside his brother and forced himself not to bolt the food. He wanted to show Chymmerlee the best of his manners.

Chymmerlee addressed the unspoken question. "We can't create objects that don't already exist, so mages and elves have to gather or grow their food, just like anyone else. I have a knack for finding the good stuff; plus, I get sick of the caves. I don't look threatening, and I have magic enough to hide from bandits. So, I'd volunteer to fetch the water and foodstuffs as much as possible. Eventually, it became my job."

Subikahn finally swallowed. "That's what you were doing when we met you?"

"Yes." Chymmerlee hovered over Saviar. "Try this. Oh, and this."

Saviar intended to eat pretty much everything, with or without her directions.

"Have as much as you want. I've already eaten, your brother's almost done, and I can always fetch more."

Saviar finished chewing and swallowed before speaking. "Relax. I'm fine." He wished she would just let him eat. The more she flitted around him, the slower he filled his empty gut.

Subikahn came to Saviar's rescue by engaging Chymmerlee in conversation. "What if there's a blizzard?"

Chymmerlee shook her head, moonlight finding glimmers of copper in her dark hair. "Magic helps, but we don't like to use it outside near our home; it looks suspicious if snow heaps everywhere except in one cave-shaped area. We grow some crops inside, too, and keep a few small animals. That sustains us even through long patches of bad weather. It's become rare for anyone but me to leave the caves anymore, except Mennalo, who goes on occasional expeditions to try to find more auras. The more traffic in and out, the more likely someone might discover us; and Pawpaw is worried someone might use magic at the wrong place and time. He trusts my judgment; and he knows that if I don't get some freedom, I'll run away."

Saviar shoved a handful of food into his mouth while Chymmerlee's attention was fully on Subikahn. That might account for the extremeness of Jeremilan's reaction to helping Bearn. It would take extraordinary events to goad such hermits out of hiding. It also explained the apparent lack of pursuit and the mages' ignorance of the world in general.

Subikahn nodded thoughtfully. "In the morning, you need to go back to your people."

"No." The single word, unaccompanied by emotion, hung in the night air.

"No?" Subikahn repeated. "Why not?"

"Because we're not far enough yet. You're not safe from their magic."

The explanation made sense to Saviar, though it also made him uneasy. If the mages could still present clear danger a day's quick walk distant, what kinds of spells might Bearn's enemies harbor?

Subikahn frowned. "You're lying."

Saviar jerked his head to his brother. "That's not nice."

"No," Subikahn admitted, not backing down. "But it's true. If the mages could work dangerous magic from this far away, they wouldn't worry about losing men to the war."

Chymmerlee sighed, rose, and walked a few paces away. "You're right. I'm lying."

"Why?" Subikahn demanded.

"Because I didn't want to fight with you about… staying with you."

"No!" Saviar said, no longer caring that he had food in his mouth, a bit of which flew out with the shout. He paused to swallow. "I promised I would send you back."

Chymmerlee shook her head. "No, you didn't, Savi. You promised you would release me unharmed. And you've done that." She sat, cross-legged, on a bed she had created from fallen leaves in their absence. "You can't control what I choose to do afterward."

Saviar felt confident he could throw Chymmerlee over one shoulder and carry her back to Myrcide. "Can't I?"

Chymmerlee studied him defiantly. "Nope. Because, if you haul me back, kicking and screaming the entire way, you'll lose a lot of time and put yourself exactly back in the position you were in before you kidnapped me."

"But I didn't kidnap-"

Chymmerlee did not allow Saviar to protest. "And, if you head for Bearn without me, I'll follow." She turned her gaze to Subikahn. "And if you try to lose me, you probably will. Then, I'll get completely lost, alone in the woods. Animals will eat me, and you will have broken your vow."

"Animals aren't going to-" Saviar saw no reason to finish the sentence. They all knew he would never leave her wandering aimlessly. "Your people will think we dishonored our word. They'll come after us."

"Good." Chymmerlee cocked her head. "That's what you want, right? Them to follow us to Bearn?"

Subikahn crouched beside her, biting his lip against a smile.

His twin's loyalty change caught Saviar off guard. "Have you both gone mad? The Myrcidians won't come to help; they'll come to pulverize me." He jabbed a hand toward Subikahn. "And you, too."

"If they come, I'll explain the situation to them," Chymmerlee promised. "That it was all my fault."

Saviar snorted and rolled his eyes. "Before or after they pulverize me?"

"They would find me, first. My aura's much easier to trace. I'll explain it all, and you'll have them where you want them."

Subikahn nodded. He had, apparently, figured out Chymmerlee's plan in advance.

Saviar still saw several flaws, but he doubted explaining them would make a difference. He could not help noticing Chymmerlee's cautious phrasing, "if they come," and "they would find me first". Obviously, she did not expect the mages to pursue them. Her previous explanation about her people's secretiveness and reclusiveness made clear the reason why, though Saviar had his doubts. If a man had stolen his daughter, he would hunt them to the ends of the world; yet he was also a skilled warrior raised by an extraordinarily honorable father. He had no real means to understand the mages' point of view. Only twenty-six of them remained. Perhaps they reasoned it wiser to abandon one than risk ten more or even the entire group. Maybe they trusted Chymmerlee to find her own escape, whenever it might come. She had surely told someone her feelings for Saviar. Given the mages' desperation for new blood, they might even hope she returned impregnated by himself or his brother.

That last thought brought a flush to Saviar's cheeks, and he turned away to hide it. No matter how her people reacted, Chymmerlee had her mind made up. And, if she was anything like their mother, no man could change it.