Mickey Reichert: Flight of the Renshai

Saviar sucked air through his lips, then let it out in a slow stream from his nose. "I promise not to harm this man for past crimes, and I will do everything I can to keep any individual Renshai from hurting him either."

Ra-khir nodded, satisfied. He knew as well as Saviar that no one could contain a Renshai bent on killing, but he trusted his son to do his best to present things to his tribe in the best possible light. He was not so sure, however, about Calistin.

The door edged open to admit a sheepish-looking, potbellied Erythanian dressed in foppish garb. His shoes were made of silk, and he wore a pointed hat with an enormous tassel. Clearly, he had not participated in the war.

Ra-khir held the door for the Erythanian, who sidled inside, studying the gathering at the table. He bowed several times, each one deeper than the one before.

"These men have granted you immunity in the name of Bearn, Erythane, Aerin, Nordmir, and the Renshai. You are safe to speak your piece."

The man bowed a few more times. His voice emerged as a frightened squeak. "My name is Georan, brother to Harveki and uncle to Frendon Harveki's son."

Murmurs traveled through the listeners as they recognized the name of the man who had turned the tide of battle between Valr Magnus and Kevral Tainharsdatter, the one who had fallen from the tree.

The man glanced at Ra-khir, his features scrunched and his expression needy.

Ra-khir reached into his pocket, retrieved the Northern coins he had bought back from the merchant in Dunford, and dumped them onto the table. The coins jangled together then plunked to the wooden top in an arrhythmic jumble, some rolling on edge before dropping flat. "Merchants in Dunford sold me these coins of Nordmirian mint, used by an Erythanian to buy luxuries. They described Georan, and his purchases, perfectly, down to that… rather unique headgear."

"And," Erik demanded, leaning forward.

Georan swallowed hard and caught Ra-khir's hand.

"You're safe," Ra-khir said, as much a command to the assemblage as a reassurance. "Please finish."

Georan lowered his head. "I spent that money in Dunford, not Erythane, at Frendon's request. He said he got it from Paradisians who paid him to make certain the Renshai lost their single combat."

"What!"

Ra-khir looked instinctively toward Erik, but it was Valr Magnus who had shouted as he sprang to his feet again. The blood rushed from a face already pale, making it appear entirely bloodless.

As if in direct contrast, Erik's cheeks appeared to gain all the color Magnus' lost, plus more. Arteries throbbed in his neck. "Are you calling us cheaters?" Erik demanded.

Georan shrank against Ra-khir, and the knight shielded him as the situation demanded.

"Sit down, Erik," King Humfreet demanded. "No one is saying you personally cheated."

Erik obeyed with obvious reluctance, but Magnus remained standing, still chalk white and looking as if he might vomit.

King Griff addressed the man cowering against Ra-khir. "Georan, did Frendon tell you exactly who paid him, by name?"

Georan shook his head.

Ra-khir felt more than saw it. "No, Sire. He believes they either swore Frendon to secrecy or never showed him their faces."

"He's lying!" Erik bobbed up again, clearly unable to keep his seat. "He's a confessed father of Renshai with every reason to lie."

"No!" King Humfreet also clambered to his feet, and everyone except Griff scrambled to do the same from etiquette. "My Knights of Erythane never lie. Never. Not even to save their own lives."

"But it was the Knights of Erythane who declared the battle results fair! They can't just turn around and negate that judgment."

King Humfreet took the words as proof of his own point. "The grandfather of Renshai banished his own. Sir Ra-khir, himself, once surrendered his own infant son rather than break a vow. The Knights of Erythane are above reproach."

Surprised, Ra-khir turned to the king of Erythane. No one should know the details of the vow he once made with Pudar. It was Weile Kahn who had rescued Calistin from becoming a Pudarian prince, in a deal whose fine points Ra-khir hoped he never learned.

Ra-khir answered the real question, "Captain Erik, when the knights verified the results of that battle, the information Georan just gave us was not available. When circumstances change, we have the right and the duty to change our minds.

Valr Magnus finally found his tongue. "I humbly apologize to Sir Ra-khir and his sons for taking the life of valiant Kevral Tainharsdatter in a battle that we now know was unfairly won." He nodded to Ra-khir, Saviar, and Calistin in turn. "Please believe me when I say I had no hand in, nor knowledge of, this deceit. And, no matter the determination of kings and captains, I refuse to acknowledge the ill-gotten title of Renshai-slayer. I will not claim victory, and the banishment of the Renshai from the West is withdrawn."

Captain Erik Leifsson sputtered. "You can't do that! You're merely our champion, not a signatory to the contract.You have no authority to undo an agreement to which you were never bound."

"But I was," King Humfreet said. "And I can." He pronounced loudly, deliberately repeating Magnus' exact words, "The banishment of the Renshai from the West is withdrawn."

Ra-khir's heart leaped, and he turned Saviar a warning glance. At this point, the Renshai's best strategy was silence.

King Humfreet continued, "The area of Erythane once called Paradise Plains will revert back to its previous name, the Fields of Wrath."

Erik's mouth worked for several moments without a word emerging. "Fine, so be it.We issue another challenge, our champion against the Renshai in single combat with the same end point."

Saviar smiled. "And we accept your challenge."

Caught behind Georan, Ra-khir could barely reach a kick to his son's unsuspecting shin.

Valr Magnus grinned. "You against Calistin, Erik? I'd pay money just to watch."

The corners of Erik's mouth drooped. His nostrils flared. "But you're our champion, Valr. You're the best swordsman in the North. We need you."

"As I understand it," Valr said coolly. "I was not a signatory and, so, never bound by the agreement."

Betrayed by his own words, Erik growled something Northern before shoving aside his chair with great violence and storming from the room. It was all Verdondi could do to scramble out of the way and rush after his father.

Silence reigned in the Nordmirians' wake. For now, Ra-khir realized, they had won the battle. But they could not afford to lose the war. The West still needed the North's ore, and its sword arms, against the threat of Kjempemagiska. Angering a man representing the high Northern kingdom seemed folly. Yet, for the moment, Ra-khir was ecstatic. As a Knight of Erythane, he had a dedication to justice and truth that transcended even such alliances.

Calistin stretched and rose, seemingly unfazed by the actions of those around him. "General Magnus, I'll take that handshake now." He offered his palm.

Valr Magnus took it and, not only shook, but pulled Calistin into an embrace.

For the first time in many years, Calistin did not stiffen or pull away from the contact. He seemed almost to relish it.

Surprised by a tiny pang of jealousy, Ra-khir still smiled. Something enormous, something he could not define, had gotten into Calistin. And maybe, just maybe, changed him for the better.