Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

Subikahn bobbed his head again. That much, he knew.

"My father…"

"Granpapa Weile."

"Yes." Tae wished his son would stop interrupting. He had never enforced manners or formality, despite his advisers' suggestions. "Granpapa Weile… didn't have time for play. He only asserted how I had to stay tough, stay alert, stay quick to stay alive."

Subikahn tossed a glance around the room. "I know what you're trying to say, Papa. That it's a great privilege to grow up as a prince. And a great responsibility."

Tae went quiet a moment. Those words had not come from him. As king, he mostly delegated. He did not have the patience for long-winded noblemen, and he found their problems too petty to consider. He served mostly as a figurehead, and his advisers and elite warriors equated the positive things in the kingdom with him and the negative with other people or factors.

"That's true, Subikahn." Tae gave the boy an intent look, hoping to silence him. "But it's not what I planned to say."

"Are you going to tell me about… the scars?" Subikahn had pestered his father mercilessly for stories about the myriad and often fatal-looking wounds that covered Tae's scrawny body.

Tae caught himself self-consciously plucking at his garments to cover any bared flesh. Usually, he did not think about his many disfigurements. Scarcely anyone knew the cause of most of them, and he alone knew where every one had come from. He had laughed off or dodged his son's questions in the past. A child did not need to know the terrifying details. At only ten years old, Tae had found himself at the mercy of his father's enemies, forced to watch his mother raped and murdered before suffering sixteen stab wounds and being left for dead himself. It was not the last time enemies of Weile Kahn would leave their mark upon him, and he had honestly earned many of the other scars without his father's assistance.

"Not yet," Tae said, disappointing Subikahn once again. "My father and I have not always gotten along." It was gross understatement. Weile was a born leader with a knack for gaining followers and a grandness to his every action, while Tae preferred to live his life in the silent shadows. The worst and best things in his life always bore a direct connection to Weile Kahn. "And I swore that, when I had a son, things would be different. I would treat him with honor and respect. I would assure that he always knew his father loved him and would do anything for him. I never wanted him to feel alone."

"And I know that, Papa. I truly do." Subikahn seemed sincerely eager to quell his father's doubts. "No child has ever had a happier upbringing. Even Saviar is jealous."

Tae smiled, but the circumstances made it forced and crooked. "I'm glad to hear that. But, in the process of making you happy, I made a serious blunder."

Now, Subikahn finally fell into a hush, clearly focused on his father's next words.

"I coddled you too much, Subikahn. I was so intent on keeping your childhood happy that I shielded you from the necessary experiences that keep a young man from becoming a mark."

"A… mark?" Subikahn clearly did not understand, which was exactly Tae's point.

Tae leaned forward, his heart pounding. He still had a chance to retract his plan, to send his son back to bed confused but whole. Then, an image of his son's lifeless body swinging from the gallows filled his mind's eye, and he forced himself to continue, "It's the horrific things in life that make a man careful, wiser."

Subikahn laughed.

It was the last reaction Tae expected. He stopped speaking. And stared.

Subikahn explained. "Are you worried I'm too innocent to defend myself?"

Apparently, Subikahn had grasped the point. "Well…"

"Papa… I'm Renshai." Subikahn opened his robe to reveal a sword at his left hip, and little else. He had not bothered to put on clothes, but he would never go anywhere without his weapon. "And you've taught me plenty about climbing and hiding and dodging. Hel's ice, some of what you've told me overlaps eerily with the Renshai training. And don't get me started on languages…"

In that light, Tae's concerns did seem a bit silly. Subikahn was not exactly the classic prince, lounging around the castle getting dressed and flattered by servants and eating too many peeled grapes. While Subikahn did not have his father's uncanny skill with languages, he did read and speak Eastern, Common, Western, Northern, and Renshai. Though Tae appreciated the ability to communicate with anyone anytime, his skill had often seemed as much a curse. Weile Kahn had exploited his son's talent at a very young age, using him to spy on strangers and enemies. No one ever suspected a child could understand so much.

"Those things will help you," Tae admitted. "But you can't become street-smart without challenging the street. And you can't become world-smart without facing the world."

Subikahn's brow furrowed. "So you want me to… travel?"

Tae remembered his own odyssey, fleeing the Eastlands with his father's most lethal enemies on his heels. He had had little combat training and nothing but the clothes on his back. Rarely eating, never sleeping, he had tried desperately to keep just a step ahead of death, his only goal one more moment of survival.

"But I've already gone to Erythane and back many many times."

Tae sighed. The situation had utterly changed since his father had banished him, at fourteen, with the words, "Come back when you're twenty. If you're still alive, all this will become yours." Weile had waved a hand toward Stalmize. At the time, Tae had believed his father meant his current business: organizing and leading bands of murderers, thugs, and thieves. Never had Tae imagined Weile would take over the kingdom itself and pass it along to his only child. As promised, at age twenty.

In less than two years, Subikahn would reach that same crucial age with little to show for it other than the Renshai training.

Tae cleared his throat, making the pronouncement he had dreaded. "Subikahn, for your own good, I am hereby banishing you from the Eastlands until you reach the age of twenty."

"What?" Subikahn's features lapsed into confusion. He seemed uncertain whether to be shocked or amused.

"You are not to run to your mother but to seek out every part of the world and bring back some unique item as proof of your travels."

"What?" Subikahn seemed stuck on the word, his features open, registering real surprise now.

Tae could feel his resolve wavering. He hardened his heart, imagining himself as Weile Kahn. He had despised his father's business and techniques; yet Tae now, finally, saw the wisdom in the way Weile had tossed his son into the fire. Without that ordeal, Tae would never have survived his trials with Kevral, Ra-khir, Darris, and Matrinka. "I expect you to visit the entirety of the Westlands, even the parts farthest north and east. I expect you to weather the Northlands-"

"But I'm Renshai!" Subikahn shouted in horror. "The North? They'll slaughter me!"

Tae lowered his head. The differences between his own test and Subikahn's were enormous. Even sent to a land of enemies, his son would never be recognized. Tae saw no reason to give the obvious advice, that Subikahn not bother to mention his mother's heritage or his training. He would easily pass for a full-blooded Easterner if he kept his swords sheathed and his mouth shut. If the boy could not figure out something so simple, he truly did deserve to die. "You'll find ways to cope. We all do."

Subikahn considered the words in silence for several moments, nodding, clearly finding the positives inherent in having no responsibilities while exploring the entire world. "Very well, Papa. If you think that's best. Talamir and I will pack-"

"No!"

At the sudden, forceful shout, Subikahn jumped.