Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

Kevral clearly could not suppress her own grin. "Gods, that really is all you men think about, isn't it?"

"Not all." Ra-khir mocked defensiveness. "Just nine times out of ten, give or take one."

"Still?" Kevral shook her head, eyes rolling. "We've been married for like a hundred years. Granted, I only had two pregnancies, but I've given birth to three sons." She indicated her lower regions with an agile gesture. "What's left to leer at?"

Ra-khir could scarcely believe the question. "Eighteen perfect years, not a hundred, and it seems more like eight.You're more beautiful now then ever." He drew her into his arms, her body like taut bundles of wire. "I'm the luckiest man in the world."

Kevral kissed him, the touch of her lips deliciously soft and yielding. She was a fierce, and strangely gracious, lover.

Ra-khir returned her kiss and tightened his embrace. Sinewy and more potentially lethal than a serpent, she still felt small and helpless in his massive arms. His desire to protect her, though misplaced, consumed him. He might have stood there all day if Kevral had not gently disengaged.

"I didn't bring you here to… slobber and tickle."

I'll be quick, Ra-khir nearly quipped before seeing the serious look on Kevral's face. Instead, he stepped back and waited patiently for her to explain.

"Ordinarily, I'd never let a student travel this close to his manhood testing, but it seems important to Saviar."

Ra-khir had to agree. "He's never dared asked before." When it came to Renshai training and the boys, Kevral outranked him as fully as Kedrin did among the knights. "It's obviously something he feels strongly about."

"Why?"

Ra-khir hesitated, confused. "Are you asking me?"

Kevral shrugged. "Even if Saviar knows why, and he probably doesn't, he wouldn't tell his mother."

The words made no sense to Ra-khir. "Why not?"

Kevral studied Ra-khir as if he had grown wings. "Because he's an adolescent boy, and all adolescent boys hate their parents."

Stunned, Ra-khir could do nothing but stare. They stood in silence for several awkward moments before he finally managed to stammer, "Th-they do?"

Apparently mistaking his surprise for an act, Kevral laughed. "Of course they do. You know that. You were an adolescent b-" She broke off abruptly and ended with a simple "Oh."

Ra-khir's thoughts drifted back to a bitter childhood he rarely consulted when raising his own sons. When Ra-khir was quite young, his parents had separated. His mother had remarried and insisted that her new husband was his father. She had held Kedrin at bay with threats and trickery, lied to Ra-khir about his origins, and the fool she married assisted her deception. Ra-khir had not learned the truth until his teens. When his mother gave him an ultimatum, he chose his father over her and started the relationship he should have had throughout his childhood. "When I was an adolescent boy, I was just getting to know and love my father. And I had every reason to dislike my mother."

Kevral turned him an apologetic look. She had clearly not intended to dredge up those memories. "Adolescent boys who grow up with loving parents reach a stage where they sort of…" Kevral cocked her head, as if trying to quote someone verbatim and not quite finding the correct words. "… distance themselves from their parents in order to find their own place in the world."

Ra-khir guessed at the source of Kevral's words. "Matrinka?" Usually, she quoted Colbey Calistinsson, but child rearing was not the purview of the consummate Renshai.

Kevral smiled sheepishly. "Darris, actually. He was in Erythane several months back doing… something diplomatic…"

Ra-khir marveled at how such brilliance with martial training could be accompanied by such complete ignorance about anything political.

"… and I asked him why my boys went from treating me like a fount of wisdom to treating me like a humiliating and utter moron."

Ra-khir huffed out a relieved sigh. "So it's not just me?"

"No, it's all parents. Apparently, we're all morons. For a while, at least."

Glad to find a logical and less personal reason for the change in his relationship with Saviar, Ra-khir glanced back toward the class. It did not appear as if the Knight's-Captain, or any of the Renshai students, had moved a muscle.

"So, do you think Saviar had a reason for wanting to accompany you? Or do you think he's just avoiding his lessons?"

Ra-khir pursed his lips, giving Saviar the benefit of his doubts. The boy did not have a history of dodging work or even difficult situations. Ra-khir suspected Saviar's newfound interest in the knighthood had more to do with the boy's request, but Ra-khir could not tell that to Kevral. It would upset her, probably wholly without cause. Likely, Saviar's attraction to the knights was merely part of the aforementioned "finding his place in the world." Eventually, his curiosity would wane, and it seemed beyond foolish to worry Kevral or give Calistin another point on which to harass his already beleaguered older brother. "I trust Saviar's judgment, and he's not a shirker." Ra-khir added wistfully, "The boys spend so much time honing swordcraft, I rarely get to spend time with any of them. I'd really like him to come, if you don't mind."

Kevral nodded. Saying nothing, she drifted back toward her students, Ra-khir following in her wake, as always enjoying the view.

When Kevral returned, her expression gave away nothing. She pinned Saviar with her gaze. "You will practice."

Though not a question, Saviar replied as if it were, "At every dismount. I won't sleep until I've worked hard enough to satisfy you." Saviar knew it helped his case that he had performed so well in class that day.

"I'll see to that," Ra-khir promised, mounting Silver Warrior.

Kevral drew in a deep breath and released it.

Saviar felt as if his heart stopped beating for that moment, as if concerned to make noise and drown out his mother's decision.

"See that he does." Kevral made a dismissive gesture toward her eldest son before turning her attention to the rest of her class. "Again!" she commanded, sending the Renshai scrambling to repeat their last maneuver. From that moment, she showed no further interest in the knights or her son, though she surely kept track of their every movement by sound. No Renshai could remain entirely unaware of any nearby human, friend or foe.

Ra-khir reached out a hand, and Saviar caught it eagerly, before his sword-dedicated mother had a chance to change her mind.

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.