Flight of the Renshai

CHAPTER 5

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?"

Ra-khir washed his last bite down with a swallow of water. "He was aboard a harbor warship. Pirates slaughtered the entire crew." He lowered his head respectfully. "There were no survivors."

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?"

Ra-khir smiled ever so slightly. And, though it seemed an odd reaction to their current conversation, Saviar believed he understood. His father always appreciated when Saviar thought beyond the mind-set of a Renshai.

Kedrin responded again, "Until then, the pirates had taken only merchant vessels. Seven was supposed to sit in the harbor to protect the incoming tradesmen and scare the pirates from making landfall. No one imagined a bunch of thieves would dare attack a Bearnian warship directly. Even if they did, the defenses seemed impenetrable."

Saviar knew little about pirates other than that they stole from ships. For most of his life, they had worried the coast of Bearn, though in small numbers and infrequently. They seemed more of a nuisance than a clear threat. Yet Kedrin's expression told Saviar otherwise. Once a mere annoyance, the pirates had now grown into a serious problem. There was clearly more to Bearn's calling of the Knight's captain than just a mission of comfort to a grieving king and queen.

Saviar sat back on his haunches without reaching for more food. "This is critical, isn't it?"

Ra-khir pursed his lips. "The loss of a royal always is."

Saviar dismissed his father's words with a gesture. "I mean beyond that. Who are these pirates?"

"No one knows," Kedrin admitted. "Once dismissed as a greedy band of malcontents, they now seem to have become large and organized. They're clearly testing Bearn's defenses, not just stealing treasure."

"Someone is backing them," Ra-khir agreed. "A country at least. The question is who?"

Saviar froze, not liking what he heard. Neither his father nor his grandfather became distressed easily, and he had never heard either overstate a threat.

Kedrin shrugged. "Who, indeed?"

As the knights no longer seemed to need him as part of the conversation, Saviar returned his attention to eating. He did not have enough experience or knowledge to solve such a mystery, nor even to fully and clearly understand its significance.

Ra-khir rose, brushed crumbs from his lap, and bowed to his father. "Excuse me, please, Captain."

Kedrin dipped his head and made a majestic, but offhand, looping gesture that clearly granted the request.

Saviar smiled. These were the moments he loved, watching the knights perform routine acts with grandeur that made even tiny details seem important. He watched his father disappear into the brush, surely to relieve himself, then turned his attention to his grandfather.

Captain Kedrin grinned broadly at his grandson, showing teeth as brilliant as pearls that made a strange contrast to the dull, gap-toothed mouths of most of the populace. Like all knights, he cared for his body meticulously. "I'm proud of you, Saviar. Not every young man would volunteer for a mission this difficult. It won't be easy to face a friend who just lost a beloved brother, especially trained by a culture that doesn't look upon death as tragedy."

"Death in battle," Saviar corrected. The Renshai deemed succumbing to age, accident, or disease the direst of catastrophes, for it doomed one's soul to Hel. Only brave warriors killed in glorious combat could be chosen for Valhalla. "Though, in this case, your point stands. Prince Arturo did die in battle."

"Surely." Kedrin's blue-white eyes sparkled. "My point stands."

Cued by his grandfather's look, Saviar directed his thoughts back to Kedrin's original statement. His cheeks turned warm. "And I'm not sure I deserve your respect. I do plan to console Princess Marisole, but that's not the real reason I asked to come along."

"Oh?" Though an expression of interest, the word also carried a clear note of understanding. Kedrin, Saviar suspected, had known that all along.

The flush on Saviar's cheeks grew deeper. "Well, I… was hoping I might…" He spoke slowly, weighing his grandfather's reaction. "… get a chance to do some research." As the Knight-Captain showed nothing but curiosity, Saviar continued more boldly. "In the Sage's library."

"Ah." Kedrin encouraged his grandson to continue. He seemed to have wholly forgotten his dinner. "Well, this thing you need to know must be important for you to risk facing the Sage. He guards his scrolls and books with the ferocity of a she-bear with cubs."

Saviar winced. He had heard as much, but he had never directly faced the Sage in his tower. Charged with keeping all the knowledge in the kingdom, the Sage had an army of pages granted access to every event or occurrence, no matter how embarrassing or secret. To deny them would incur the wrath of ancient law, a crime as unthinkable as slaying a messenger or a man calling parley in battle. He lived in the tower with his many chronicles, writing them into history and rewriting the oldest, crumbling pages. "Well…" Saviar kneaded a dried apple between his fingers. "I'm just wanting one piece of information. The Sage might know it without me having to touch any of his treasured papers."

Kedrin shifted, leaning toward Saviar. "What is it you want to know?"

It suddenly occurred to Saviar that he had found the perfect source for his answer, and he felt like a dullard for not considering Kedrin sooner. If anyone knew the answer, the captain of the Knights of Erythane would. "Papa said there's a man who is both Renshai and Knight, and I'm trying to find out who this remarkable fellow might be."

Kedrin sat back with a wry laugh. "Well, you needn't trouble the Sage at all. If your father told you it was a man who held this distinction, he misled you."

Startled, Saviar tried to recall Ra-khir's exact wording. When it did not come, he leaped to his father's defense. "I don't remember exactly how Papa put it." His exoneration could only go so far, however. "He may not have said 'man,' but he certainly didn't say 'woman.' I would have remembered that." Saviar turned his attention directly on his grandfather, the apple forgotten in his hand. Renshai women fought alongside their men, learning the same sword techniques from birth; but theirs was a society much misunderstood and maligned. Even the other Northern tribes would never think to send their women to war. Not that it never happened. Every civilization seemed to have a story about one woman who distinguished herself in swordsmanship, either while disguised or against the comprehension or wishes of her people.

"Oh, dear." Kedrin screwed up his features self-deprecatingly. "Now I've misled you further. As you know, the Knights of Erythane have strict codes of honor. Only males may serve the kings in this manner."

"Male, but not a man." Understanding dawned slowly. "It's Colbey, isn't it?"

Kedrin nodded with a smile.

As he contemplated his own words, Saviar's brow gradually lapsed into wrinkles. "Colbey Calistinsson? An immortal, so not a man. The ideal Renshai, certainly. But a Knight of Erythane?" Saviar shook his head in disbelief. From what he knew, Colbey had little tolerance for ganim. He found them slow and awkward, focused on the superficial and easy. "How can that be?"

Kedrin ran a hand through a thick head of silver hair, speckled with strands of its previous red-gold. He straightened his tabard, adjusted his sword, and settled into a position better suited to comfort than defense.

Though it bothered his Renshai sensibilities, and Saviar found himself locked into a crouch unable to buck his own training, he did not judge his grandfather. He stuffed the chunk of dried apple into his mouth and chewed.

Ra-khir returned from his errand, his clothing and grooming immaculate. Though he had brushed through weeds and trees, not a bit of leaf, twig, or seed marred the image. He studied his father and his son briefly, clearly to ascertain whether or not he could speak without interrupting. As both men fell silent at his entrance, he uttered the first words, "Did I miss anything?"

Suddenly feeling guilty for finding such an easy solution to his father's challenge, Saviar dodged Ra-khir's gaze.

Kedrin nodded toward Ra-khir, then Saviar, in turn. "I was just preparing to tell the story of Sir Colbey Calistinsson."

Ra-khir turned his son a searching look that held a hint of disapproval. "This isn't exactly what I meant when I said you should use your studies to find the answer."

Staring at his boots, Saviar sought words to explain. His father had not expressly told him not to ask Kedrin, and he had planned to get the information from the Sage before the Knight Captain volunteered it.

Kedrin rescued his grandson. "Sir Ra-khir, what better way to research than to ask the person most likely to know the correct answer?"

Ra-khir back stepped with a majestic gesture of respect directed at his captain. "Well, yes, Captain. Of course, sir." He bowed. "I only meant that running to one's grandfather for help does not require the same intensity and effort as finding the information on one's own."

Saviar watched the exchange in quiet amusement. For most of his life, the paternal side of his heritage had hampered him. His physical size and broad musculature hindered his agility, and many Renshai considered the Knights of Erythane stiff, stodgy objects of ridicule. For once, it felt good to have a man of Kedrin's rank and experience on his side.

"Well, Sir Ra-khir, when one's grandfather also happens to be the best source of information about a certain topic, why should one be penalized simply because he happens to be one's grandfather?" Kedrin's pale brows arched. "Any other man's child would be considered brave and wise to bring such a question to me."

Saviar considered mentioning that he had not actually asked Kedrin, only informed the captain that he planned to research the answer in the Sage's library. Instead, he held his tongue. Kedrin was handling the matter quite ably without his meddling.

Ra-khir opened his mouth, then closed it. He raised a hand as if making a point, started to speak, then stopped again without a sound emerging.

Saviar continued to study his feet. It might humiliate Ra-khir if Saviar seemed to take too much amusement from his father's obvious discomfort.

Finally, Ra-khir heaved a sigh. "Captain, I request permission to speak freely."

Kedrin did not hesitate. "Granted. Consider yourself off-duty, my son." His brows remained high, showing curiosity for the words Ra-khir had not managed to find a polite way to speak.

Ra-khir's shoulders relaxed. Though his dress remained fastidious, as always, the transition to a looser, informal stance was obvious even to Saviar. "Why is it when I bring you a question, I get riddles and enigma? When Saviar asks, he gets instant solutions and entertaining stories."

Kedrin laughed, and Saviar found himself smiling despite his best intentions. His grandfather spent so much time immersed in formality and vital matters of country that Saviar rarely saw or heard him relax. "First, Ra-khir, perhaps Saviar asks better questions." He winked, though whether at son or grandson, Saviar was not sure. "Second, he's not training to become a Knight of Erythane. And third… well, you'll understand when you become a grandfather."

Ra-khir shook his head with a grin, looked away from his captain and rolled his eyes. "As to your third point, Father, more riddles. I won't argue the first because I think it pertains to the third. But I will take exception to the second." He turned his attention to Saviar, much to the boy's chagrin. "It is exactly because Saviar is considering becoming a knight that he asked about Sir Colbey in the first place."

A light seemed to fill Kedrin's face, and his eyes sparkled. Saviar expected his grandfather to ply him with questions about the seriousness of his intentions. Surely he wished to do so, but he remained true to the conversation instead. "It would seem to me, then, that Saviar should know the extraordinary details of Colbey's story before he makes such a difficult and momentous decision."

Their discussion forced Saviar into consideration. Many times he had wished he had pursued knighthood rather than the intense and single-minded Renshai training. Until his recent discussion with his father, however, he had accepted the lot his parents had given him. It had never occurred to him that becoming both was possible.The fact that Colbey had done so barely seemed reason to change his mind. The immortal Renshai had performed many feats no one else had accomplished, before or since.

Uncomfortable beneath the sudden scrutiny of father and grandfather, Saviar cleared his throat. "So, Grandpapa. Tell me about Sir Colbey."

Ra-khir sat, Kedrin resumed his position of comfort, and Saviar remained in his Renshai-wary crouch.

"It all began more than three hundred years ago, in the reigns of King Sterrane of Bearn and King Orlis of Erythane. Though nearly eighty, Colbey Calistinsson appeared much younger, with an agility and speed beyond even those one usually associates with men your age." Kedrin waved a hand in Saviar's general direction.

Saviar seized upon the pause. "Because he was immortal."

"Yes," Kedrin said, though a twist in his tone suggested it was only half an admission. "And because he kept himself as well as any man can. At the time, he did not know the blood of Thor ran in his veins. No one did."

Saviar nodded, understanding those details well, as all Renshai. As it turned out, Colbey had not known either of his blood parents. His Renshai mother had died in battle, the baby plucked from her womb by Sif and placed in one otherwise barren. He had no siblings; and Colbey still considered the man and woman who raised him, Ranhilda and Calistin, his only true parents.

Kedrin continued, "The Great War was over, the West victorious over the mighty armies of the Eastlands. The scourge of the North had left the Renshai tribe with only two living members; and, of the two, only Colbey survived the War."

Saviar spoke from his Renshai history lessons, "The other was Rache, right? The Einherjar who gave Mama her sword."

Kedrin nodded. "And Colbey was traveling through Erythane with a boy about your age, also named Rache as I recall." He looked askance at Ra-khir, who bobbed his head in assent.

Again, history filled in the gaps for Saviar. Modern Renshai consisted of three tribes, each descended from a couple from the era of Kedrin's story. The first, the tribe of Modrey, his mother's tribe, carried the most ancient Renshai blood. The tribe of Rache, the boy in Kedrin's story, initially carried no true Renshai bloodline. Rache's mother, Mitrian, had married Tannin, the patriarch of the third, half-blood tribe. As this information did not seem significant to the story, however, Saviar kept it to himself and gave his grandfather an encouraging look.

"Rache wound up dueling with and killing a young apprentice knight named Shalfon."

"Killing?" The word startled out before Saviar could think to stifle it.

"Killing," Kedrin repeated. "Duels to the death were a lot more common in those days, and it is likely that Shalfon set that end point as a condition of the challenge."

Kedrin's open-mindedness pleased Saviar. Most would automatically condemn the outcome as a Renshai succumbing to his violent nature.

"In the process of cheering on his charge, Colbey insulted the boy's father, Brignar, resulting in a second duel. There is ambiguity over who actually initiated the challenge, but history records that it was fought immediately and with swords, which suggests that Colbey did."

Saviar had to agree with the assumption. Knights displayed far more patience than Renshai, and ancient knights, especially, preferred mounted combat with pikes.

"In any case, there is no doubt that Colbey won the battle handily, badly humiliating his opponent in the process." Kedrin looked at Ra-khir, who frowned sourly.

Sensing a scandal, Saviar understood his grandfather's hesitation. Yet his own Renshai impatience won out over courtesy. "What happened next?"

Kedrin sighed but dutifully continued, "I'm afraid Brignar did something… unchivalrous."

Knowing Colbey as every Renshai did, Saviar guessed. "Colbey taunted Brignar, didn't he?" A likely scenario came to the fore. "Oh! He turned his back on his enemy."

"The ultimate gesture of a warrior's disdain, yes."

Saviar presumed the rest, gasping at the enormity of Brignar's infraction. "And Brignar attacked him? From behind?"

Kedrin grimaced. "I'm afraid so."

The rest was obvious. Colbey would not have forgiven the crime. "And died." Saviar's brow furrowed. After that, the trail of understanding broke. "But how…? Why would the Knights of Erythane want Colbey to… after he just killed…?" He studied his grandfather's striking features, sucked in by the utter pallor of those white-blue eyes. Do my eyes really look like that?

"It was old law," Kedrin explained. "Long established and only changed within my lifetime." He casually fixed a crease in his sleeve. "When a man bested a knight in fair combat, he earned the knight's position. Once he pledged himself to Erythane and Bearn, he received the position, title, and steed."

"Frost Reaver." Saviar had long known the name and color of Colbey's beloved stallion. It had always seemed strange that a Renshai would choose to ride a beast of such standout brightness, yet Saviar had simply dismissed that as one of the many oddities of Colbey Calistinsson. "Could that be the same horse?"

"It is." Ra-khir blurted, then covered his mouth, eyes wide.

Kedrin only laughed at the interruption. "You're off-duty, Ra-khir. Feel free to speak your mind, even if it is ill-timed."

Ignoring the obvious sarcasm, Ra-khir obeyed. "Like the gods, he eats the apples of Idun to stay forever young. I've ridden him."

Now it was Saviar's turn to barge in without thinking. "You've ridden Frost Reaver! You've ridden Colbey Calistinsson's horse!" Kedrin's story no longer mattered. Saviar had to know. "When? How?" He did not leave time for answers before adding accusingly, "How come you never told us?"

Ra-khir shrugged and flushed and smiled simultaneously. "The time was never right."

"And now?" Saviar could not let the matter rest. He wondered how many other incredible things his father had never found the right time to tell him.

"If you wish." Ra-khir studied his own mount, grazing pleasantly on moss and leaf sprouts. He had not bothered to tie the stallion; Silver Warrior would not stray. "When Colbey embarked on his mission to save the world, he gave me Frost Reaver."

"Gave you…?" Saviar's voice cracked.

"When Colbey survived despite even his own expectations, I gave him back his horse." Ra-khir winked. "There're few things more pitiful than a pleading immortal, especially a Renshai immortal."

Saviar dropped to his haunches, shocked silent. He had heard about his parents' exploits, their missions to rescue the West, his mother's visit to Valhalla. He also knew that Kevral and Ra-khir had fallen in love during these deadly excursions. But he had never heard that his father had a personal relationship with the Renshai's most cherished hero. Unable to wrap his mind around this stunning admission, he pushed his thoughts back to one he might. "So Colbey… pledged his allegiance… to Erythane and Bearn?"

"Shocking, isn't it?" Whether Kedrin referred to Ra-khir's admission or Saviar's question, he did not know. "Colbey did so swear in an informal ceremony before the King of Erythane. Remember, at that time, he was pledged to help protect the Westlands anyway, and he trusted the man who became Bearn's greatest king. Sterrane and Colbey were close friends."

Saviar took the information a step further, "And Colbey was nearly eighty years old. He couldn't possibly have guessed he would go on to live another three hundred years." The implications seemed staggering. "So… has anyone ever called him in to fulfill his knightly pledge?"

Ra-khir grinned viciously. "He's never taken guard duty, if that's what you mean. Colbey's title is not commonly known, even among the Knights of Erythane."

"To my knowledge, no one has called Colbey in for any reason, then or since." Kedrin put a more serious spin on the question, "Who would dare?"

Who, indeed? Saviar wondered, yet he also knew that in times of great trouble men sometimes resorted to desperate measures.