Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

"A dangerous combination," Magnus had to admit. "I know the older one can fight."

"Judging from his sword forms, competently. But he's sullen, irritable, and oppositional."

"You mean, he's an adolescent."

"An adolescent who could do with a few solid spankings."

Magnus laughed. "I dare you. He'd sever your hands before they reached his bottom."

Captain Sivaird's look became one of outrage. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I've been watching him, too. And you've gravely underestimated his skill." Something I can't afford to do.

The captain grunted. "With all respect, sir, maybe you're underestimating my skill."

Magnus had not meant to offend his loyal captain. "You have many skills, Captain, and I appreciate all of them."

Sivaird bowed his head, silently acknowledging the compliment.

"But this boy's swordsmanship is peerless. I accepted him into my ranks even though he stated outright that he would follow orders only if they suited him."

Sivaird's brows whisked upward, and he opened his mouth; but no words emerged. "One such as that is very dangerous, sir. Not just for himself, but for every one around him."

"Yes." No one had to remind Valr Magnus of that fact. "Better in my command than another's, though, yes?"

Sivaird's frown suggested he did not agree, though his words spoke otherwise. "Yes, sir. If he turns coat, no one's better suited to bring him down, sir. But, his insolence does undermine Captain Alsmir's command."

"Then tell Alsmir not to command him. Tell the captain to leave the young man utterly and completely to me."

Captain Sivaird saluted. "It would be my pleasure."

Alsmir's, too, Magnus guessed. He sighed, feeling most sorry for Sir Ra-khir. One Renshai was bad enough. What must it be like to command… to attempt to command… hundreds?

Saviar had no difficulty finding his father's white charger, a beacon amidst the milling infantries on Bearn's southern beachfront. For the first time, it bothered him that the Knights of Erythane had chosen such a garish symbol of leadership. It made them easy to recognize among the peasantry, but it also branded his father the obvious target for every missile and sword.

As the three walked along the beach, struggling through scraggly weeds and clambering over heaps and dunes, it soon became clear that Ra-khir studied them as well. Silver Warrior faced in their direction. One of the knight's gloved hands sat squarely on his forehead, shading his eyes from the reflected glare. He clambered down from the horse long before details became clear. He could not yet have recognized their features, but he already seemed to know that he needed to greet these newcomers, that they headed toward his unit.

Apparently, Subikahn also noticed. "He knows it's us."

"You think so?" Saviar tightened his grip on Chymmerlee's hand to help her slog through a loose pile of sand. "How could he possibly know? I wouldn't have known it was him if the guard hadn't told me. He looks like any other knight."

Subikahn grinned. "They do try their best to appear identical, don't they? But if anyone's askew, it's always Ra-khir."

Saviar also smiled. It had become a family joke, one neither Ra-khir nor Kedrin appreciated. Ra-khir did spend the most time performing stable muckings, cleaning tabards, and mending hats. If a hair was out of place, it was a red one. If a sword angled slightly off kilter, it was always Ra-khir's. Saviar did not know if his father truly had the worst eye for perfection or if his grandfather simply tended to expect more of him and thus focused on every tiny flaw.

They watched as Ra-khir handed his reins to a boy and started walking toward them.

"Oh, yes," Subikahn said confidently. "He's recognized us."

Saviar could not argue. It certainly seemed as though the knight intended to greet them warmly.

Then, suddenly, Ra-khir was running toward them, and Saviar felt a smile stretch across his face, his own feet moving without the need to guide them. And, a moment later, they fell into one another's arms, laughing, smiling, clinging.

"Papa," Ra-khir said into his father's neck. "You're all right."

"I'm all right?" Ra-khir laughed again. "I thought you were dead."

I was, practically. Saviar did not bother to share that information. Barely over his paralyzing grief, Ra-khir might see that as a reason to protect his oldest son mercilessly.

Ra-khir disengaged from Saviar to face Subikahn. The Eastern prince reached out a hand in greeting, but Ra-khir ignored it, catching his stepson into an embrace as loving as his son's. "I'm so glad you're back."

"Hey," Subikahn said breathlessly. "I'm little; I can actually break." As Ra-khir eased his powerful grip, the prince added in his normal voice, "You knew it was us long before you could see our faces. How?"

"Movement, mannerisms." Ra-khir studied them both as he talked. "A man knows his sons."

Subikahn jabbed a finger at Saviar. "Sons, see? I wasn't lying."

Ra-khir finally turned his attention to Chymmerlee, executing a grand bow. "Forgive my rudeness, beautiful lady. I'm Sir Ra-khir Kedrin's son, Knight of Erythane in the service of their Majesties, King Humfreet of Erythane and High King Griff of Bearn."

Chymmerlee curtsied nervously. "So I'd gathered. I've heard a lot about you, Sir Ra-khir. All of it very good."

Saviar supplied the one amenity she had missed, "Her name's Chymmerlee, Papa. She's a friend."

Curious faces watched the reunion from the beachfront, and Saviar suddenly recognized them. "Sif and Modi, Papa! You're commanding-"

"Sir!" Subikahn shouted over his twin, with a rudeness Ra-khir would never have tolerated from Saviar.

Ra-khir would usually haughtily refuse to acknowledge such a discourteous plea, but the volume and abruptness of the call apparently had him turning to Subikahn before he could think to stop himself.

Subikahn's cheeks reddened in tight circles. "Sorry, sir. I was just thinking the war could start any moment, and I really need to get Chymmerlee somewhere safe."

"Actually," Chymmerlee said, her voice seeming small and sweet in the wake of Subikahn's cry. "I need to stay within visual distance of the war."

Subikahn swiftly lost his embarrassment. "Is there someplace like that, Ra-khir? Someplace she can watch from a safe distance?"

Only then Saviar realized the mistake he had nearly made, the one Subikahn had covered with his abrupt rudeness. Saviar had been about to say "Renshai"-a word that would have shaken Chymmerlee terribly.

Ra-khir licked his lips, clearly weighing his words. "To be brutally honest…" He paused to glance in Saviar's direction, looking to him for clues on how much information Chymmerlee could handle.

Saviar nodded decisively. Chymmerlee had a purpose, and shielding her from the truth would not make the threat as clear. She, and her people, needed to know and understand the worst case scenario.

Thus encouraged, Ra-khir finished. "… our enemies are ruthless killers of men and women. No place in the world is safe." He made a broad gesture that encompassed the massed ships. "But, if I had to pick the most secure location from which to watch this war, it's the peak of Bearn Castle. Matrinka's there, the whole royal family." His gaze flicked toward the mountain castle. "But the guards certainly won't let just anyone join them."

Saviar took Chymmerlee's hand, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by his father. "I'll convince them."

"No," Subikahn chimed in. "It'll have to be me."

Saviar's brows furrowed, and he gave his twin a curious look. "Do you think you're more convincing than I am?"

"No," Subikahn said, smiling. "Definitely not. But…" He tipped his head to Ra-khir, allowing him to explain what apparently seemed obvious to Subikahn.