Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

Tae awakened to exquisite pain piercing his chest and back like a white-hot sword. He screamed before he could gather his wits to bite it back. He attempted to roll, but something pinned him to the ground.

Someone swore. "Hold him still."

Fingers clamped down on Tae's arms and legs.Weights intensified across his sides and buttocks. The world fuzzed into blurry existence. Tae was lying prone on the beach, seeing sand and milling warriors to the extent of his vision. People massed closely around him. A striped paw appeared suddenly in his face and tapped his nose. *Be still,* Imorelda commanded.*They're trying to help you.*

New pain seared Tae's spine. Every muscle stiffened, the world returned to a curtain of weaving black and white spots, and he grunted despite himself.*They're killing me.*

Imorelda carried Tae's mind to another plane.*He says it hurts a bit.*

Steeped in agony, Tae did not have the wherewithal to correct the understatement. He clung to consciousness, breathing in quick, short bursts that only intensified the pain.

A gentle hand wiped his brow, swept fingers through the tangles of his hair. "Hang on, Tae. It's almost over."

Tae recognized Matrinka's voice. What's she doing on the beach? It's not safe for her here. He managed to gather his thoughts.*Imorelda, tell her what I told you about the plans.Tell her to keep you safe, to keep herself safe. She needs to go back to the palace.*

Imorelda did not reply directly, but she took Tae with her again to address Matrinka.*He says he needs a soldier-man to explain what he heard.*

Assailed by anguish, Tae could not even muster his frustration.*Imorelda, that's not what I said.Tell her what I said.* *He also said do whatever you have to do. He can take it.*

Not for the first time, Tae wanted to strangle the cat.*Listen, Imorelda.* He gasped.*Quit playing.This is important.*

Matrinka continued to stroke Tae's head. The pain seemed to lessen in intensity, but he still could not find the strength to speak aloud.*I'm dying, Imorelda. Grant me the dignity of coherent last words.*

Imorelda addressed Matrinka,*My idiot master thinks he's dying.*

Matrinka's hand stilled in Tae's hair. "Dying! Oh, no you don't!" She slapped him.

It was just enough to throw Tae over the edge. All thought and emotion, all sound and sensation disappeared. He seized a tiny shred of awareness, clinging to it, waiting for the rest to reappear. The instant it did, his head filled with Matrinka's angry words. "There's not a lethal wound here, Tae Kahn. Nothing I can't fix, do you hear me?" She grabbed both ears, sending more pain shooting through the injured one, and forced his face into her own. "You… are… not… dying!" *Imorelda, tell her if she doesn't stop manhandling me, she's going to be the thing that kills me.*

Imorelda did not pass on the information, to Tae's knowledge, but Matrinka did not attack again. She whispered directly into his left ear. "Listen to me, Tae; and listen good. We can fix these wounds, every one of them. If you die, it's because you choose to.You, no one else. And I'm not going to lie to Subikahn about it. Dying of fatal injuries is one thing; but choosing to die when you don't have to is nothing but cowardice. Do you want me to have to tell Subikahn his father was a coward?"

Tae knew wounds. He had taken far more than his share, and the arrow through his chest had certainly seemed a mortal one. Yet he also knew few healers had Matrinka's experience or talent. Perhaps, in the excitement of the moment, he had misjudged the severity. Whatever else Subikahn did or was, he was always first a Renshai. Nothing would humiliate him more than his own, or his father's, surrendering to fear. He had wanted to toughen Subikahn, not break him.*Tell her, I'll fight to my last breath.*

This time, Imorelda relayed his words exactly.

Tae kept his eyes tightly closed, waiting for the arrival of a general and hoping the need to pass along information would distract him from the healers' excruciating ministrations. Matrinka was right about one thing: dying would be so much easier.

Saviar, Subikahn, and Chymmerlee reached Erythane in twilight, not wholly surprised to find a ring of alert guards at the border. They wore tabards emblazoned with Erythane's orange and black and held long spears as well as swords at their hips. Beyond them, Saviar could see the city the Renshai had once known well, had once called home. "Halt!" a guard called, his voice a monotone. He had clearly done this too many times over the last few weeks. "State your names and business."

To Saviar's surprise, Subikahn stepped forward to speak. Usually, he left the orations to his brother. "Saviar and Subikahn Ra-khirsson. Our companion is called Chymmerlee. We come in defense of Bearn."

Subikahn Ra-khirsson? Saviar kept the question to himself, for the moment. Subikahn never did anything without reason, though sometimes those reasons confounded his twin.

"Enter." The guards stepped aside, a token gesture. The three newcomers could just as easily have passed between them. The guards' need to cover the entire border left them thinly spread.

As they entered Erythane, Saviar was assailed by a sudden rush of unexpected pleasure. Home. He shook away the thought; and, with it, all comfort. Not home anymore. Bitterness tinged his memories, and he tried to let all of them go. On the journey, they had decided to enter Bearn proper, from due north. Saviar did not want to veer toward the Road of Kings and despised the thought of even glimpsing the Fields of Wrath and its new occupants.

As they passed beyond the guards' earshot, Subikahn said softly, "That was remarkably easy."

Thoughts still on the Renshai's home for his entire life, Saviar did not grasp his brother's meaning. "What?"

"Anyone could say they've come to Bearn's aid. How did they know I was telling the truth?"

"You weren't," Saviar reminded. "You're not Ra-khir's son; I am."

"You mind?"

"Of course not. It just… surprised me." Saviar realized it should not have. Tae Kahn might have already reached Bearn with his Eastern army; and, if they knew Subikahn was his son, word would quickly reach the Eastern king. "Surely a war takes precedence over a family feud."

Subikahn shrugged. "I don't think I want to take that chance."

Saviar thought it best to change the subject before Chymmerlee started asking questions. He suspected there were other reasons Subikahn had lied, not the least of which was his hatred of fawning and attention. If the guards had realized they faced the prince of the Eastlands, they would have abandoned their posts to tend to Subikahn. "At least we know why they let us through so easily. They probably know my father… forgive me, our father as a knight."

Subikahn brow furrowed. "Maybe." He did not sound convinced. Abruptly, he laughed. "I've got it. We speak Western. The enemy doesn't. Not at all. It's as simple as that."

The three passed through city streets packed with strange tents in a gloom that seemed to smother Erythane. The houses had already gone quiet, shutters and doors tightly bolted. Though packed full, the taverns no longer echoed with raucous laughter; Saviar could hear signs creaking in the wind. The entire city appeared to be holding its breath, waiting for the moment the whole world exploded into violence. A shiver racked Saviar. It all seemed too controlled, too eerie. He took a solid hold on Chymmerlee's arm, and she leaned against him as they walked. She could know little or nothing of cities; yet she also, apparently, sensed the wrongness of it.

A full day and night of walking through Erythane brought them to the outskirts of Bearn, where a larger contingent of enormous warriors met them. Chymmerlee pressed more tightly against Saviar, clearly intimidated by the sheer size and number of Bearn's men. Saviar was a large man by most standards: a full head taller than the average and powerfully built. Yet, all of the massive Bearnides stood at least as tall as he did and outweighed him. Compared to them, Subikahn looked like a woman and Chymmerlee like a dainty child.