Mickey Reichert: Flight of the Renshai

Piles of bloody bodies formed on the beach, and Magnus found himself shifting slightly southward as he cleared the area around him. At length, he found an unexpected partner behind him, a man of such skill and ferocity that the general was incapable of not trusting that his flank was safe. Without intention or planning, the two men merged their personal strategies to become a single fighting unit. The dead all but surrounded them, and they had to move together across the beach to find opponents as the pirates deliberately avoided them.

All up and down the beach they fought without pause, no breaks for what felt like half a day or longer, their skin, clothing, and hair spattered with enemy gore.Valr Magnus felt fatigue press him, but he banished it through willpower. His arms and legs kept moving long past pain and weariness. He dared not stop, not break even for a moment, worried that doing so would allow exhaustion to finally catch him. Once stilled, he might not find the strength to move again. And, luckily, his partner remained with him.

It did not occur to Valr Magnus to wonder who fought the battle with him. Knowing the truth would ruin everything, would force him to contemplate an intolerable situation, would shatter any illusions left from centuries of stories, legends, and history. Subconsciously, Magnus knew his benefactor was the archest of nemeses, that he threw his lot in with a Renshai sworn to kill him. Yet, he would not allow that thought to come to the fore. He could not remember the last time he had fought a battle with such an aura of faith at his back, at the side of an ally who matched or exceeded his own talent. It was a joy he would not allow something as mundane as reality to destroy.

Ra-khir swiftly realized that it did not matter if he served as the Renshai's only cavalry. Nobody made it past the world's most skilled swordsmen. All up and down the beach, pirates slipped through the knots of infantries to the horsemen stationed beyond them. He could see the knights' white chargers plunging behind Erythane's infantry, saw one occasionally veer off to assist among the golds, browns, and grays of the other troops. He, alone, had no one to chase. It all seemed a cruel joke. A battle of this magnitude, and I'm actually bored.

Ra-khir did wander right or left at times to catch a charging pirate or assist other horsemen, but he did so at his own risk. The Western army to his south worked as a well-rehearsed team. To the north, he discovered more leeway, but he also found himself moving in that direction to back the Renshai. As the pirates fell or tried to find easier routes up the beachhead, the Renshai had to shift as well. And, like a golden tide, they rolled casually northward.

As Ra-khir rode the dunes for a better view of the battle, several things became clear. The abilities of the continental armies varied greatly, while those of the pirates seemed nearly identical. Early on, this favored the pirates, who could fall back on consistency and drive into the weaker areas of the allies' defenses. But, as the weakest and least experienced fighters fell, the pirates found themselves facing a tougher defense, with a higher percentage of trained soldiers who gradually learned to exploit their enemy's unwavering style.

Suddenly, two Renshai broke from the chaos to charge up the beach, as if fleeing the battle. Ra-khir knew better. No Renshai would ever display such cowardice. Those two had other reason for rushing toward him. Saviar and Subikahn, he assumed. And they've seen something.

Ra-khir reined Silver Warrior into their path and nudged him into a ground-eating canter. The looseness of the sand slowed the stallion into a rolling slog, but he soon met up with the twins. They looked frightful, their arms, hair, and clothing striped with blood and spotted with bits of unidentifiable gore. Their swords dripped crimson circles into the sand. Saviar's expression appeared worried, his pale eyes crinkled and his forehead lined; but Subikahn looked positively corpselike. His eyes had sunken into pools of pained darkness, his cheeks drawn.

"Papa," Saviar shouted as soon as they drew close enough to hear one another. "Look there." He used his sword to point toward the pirate ships.

Ra-khir had looked there a thousand times in the past several hours, but he dutifully followed Saviar's gesture. Most of the ships still remained at anchor off the coast, bobbing gently in swells that made a strange and peaceful contrast to the raging battle on the shore. He could see some bubbling and movement in the water where sharks had discovered bodies. Otherwise, nothing appeared to have changed. "You mean the sharks?" He wondered if the boys had some strategy that involved driving the pirates into the jaws of the savage fish. "Because I don't think anyone's going to let themselves-"

Saviar shoved the hilt of his sword against his father's fist, which startled Ra-khir. No Renshai, not even his son, ever willingly handed over his weapon to someone outside the tribe. Cautiously, he wrapped his fingers around it.

"Look again."

Ra-khir kept his eyes in the direction Saviar had indicated. At first, he saw nothing unusual. Then, a shimmer drew his attention slightly to the right where he discovered a ball of light that seemed to hover over the deck of the central ship. "What's that?"

"It's an aura," Saviar explained, snatching back his sword.

The glow disappeared, at least to Ra-khir's eyes.

"Someone's working magic. We need to find Chymmerlee."

Ra-khir did not fully understand, but he trusted the twins. "All right. What-?" The distant waves seemed to hesitate. Nearer the shore, the water sucked back from the edge. "The ocean… it's changing."

Subikahn grabbed Saviar's arm, but his attention went to Ra-khir. "Can we borrow your horse, sir?"

"What?" Ra-khir had never even allowed groomsmen to handle his steed, and he would have to bend his orders, and knightly law, to allow such a thing. Nevertheless, he dismounted. The water drew farther inward, like a string of drool sucked back into a large dog's mouth. He pointed toward his favorite vantage. "Meet me there, on that largest dune. The view is perfect."

Saviar nodded as he swung into the saddle, and Subikahn leaped into place behind him. Silver Warrior galloped toward the castle, Ra-khir cringing at every wallowing step. Speed was dangerous in sand for a massive animal with such slender legs. He vowed to give the boys a strongly-worded lecture on the proper treatment of animals when they returned, then discarded the thought. He trusted Saviar's wisdom and ability to weigh risk. The twins clearly saw a desperate need for speed that Ra-khir did not yet understand; and, while it seemed to him that one rider should have sufficed, especially since they would add Chymmerlee on their return, the boys had a reason for fetching her together. Saviar would not risk his father's precious charger without desperate need.

"Godspeed," he whispered beneath his breath. He could still feel the impression of the split leather hilt against his palm. It had been Kevral's sword Saviar had handed him, he realized. She had never allowed him to touch it. For Saviar to do so meant a critical situation that words and expressions couldn't explain. He looked back at the shoreline, where the water drew back farther and farther toward the anchored ships.

Though it seemed like hours to Ra-khir, only a few moments passed before he heard the familiar hoof falls and Silver Warrior came bounding through the sand. Three figures sat astride, one nearly as heavy as himself but the other two much lighter. Subikahn dismounted before the horse drew up, but Saviar waited and gently assisted Chymmerlee to the ground.

"It's a tidal wave," Ra-khir said in an awed whisper. "That's what he's preparing for. A massive wall of ocean that takes out all of our troops… and his as well." Ra-khir had heard about the two types of pirates, the one huge and magical, the other mortal and bound to their bidding. It made sense that the creatures that called themselves Kjempemagiska might care little for servant underlings, but the thought appalled Ra-khir. Even the greatest gods of their world did not treat humans as expendable playthings, at least not in such numbers. We're all going to die, Ra-khir realized with strangely little fear. Even those as far away as the castle might not survive.