Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

Any Renshai would understand Rache's intention: to die in glorious combat taking as many Northmen as possible with him. Saviar got the point, but he wondered if Thialnir could. The Renshai had a duty, not only to their own people, but to their allies as well.

Thialnir sat in silence, head cocked to one side, clearly considering. He had come a long way in his many years on the Council. Initially, every situation was black or white, right or wrong. The Renshai solution was the only solution. Age had mellowed the old warrior to the point where he could consider nuances and politics, and he seemed more troubled than appreciative of his newfound diplomacy. His entire head turned suddenly to Saviar, and his gaze remained there.

Saviar forced himself to meet the intense green stare without flinching. He dared not show any fear.

When Thialnir finally spoke, he used the Renshai tongue, "Young Renshai, send the others away."

Though Thialnir spoke fluent Common Trading, Saviar acted as translator. "He wants to speak with me alone."

Kedrin and Chaveeshia rose immediately. Only Ra-khir hesitated, clearly worried for his son's welfare. Nevertheless, he did as Thialnir had bade and followed the others from the room.

While the others filed out, Saviar seized the opportunity to assure no sleeve or legging hampered his movements, that no furniture could impede the sudden draw of his sword.

As the door clicked shut, Thialnir's attention snapped directly onto Saviar.

Saviar's hand went instinctively to his hilt.

"So, you're the one supposed to beat sense into me, eh?" Thialnir ran his hands across the smooth surface of the table. "I'd have thought they'd use your brother."

Saviar told the truth. "It was my idea, sir." He met Thialnir's gaze levelly.

"Are you challenging me?"

"I'm prepared to, sir. If it becomes necessary."

The two stared at one another for several moments, neither giving ground. Thialnir's brows rose in slight increments until they nearly reached his hairline. "Saviar, what do you think of this whole situation?"

The last thing Saviar expected was for the violent, no-nonsense leader of the Renshai to ask his opinion. He stalled. "I think, sir…"

"Yes."

"… the whole situation…"

"Yes?"

"… is damned."

Thialnir chuckled. "Damned indeed, Saviar. What do you propose we do about it?"

Emboldened by his recent successes, Saviar spoke his mind. "I believe, sir, that the Renshai deserve consideration. We've remained loyal to Bearn for centuries, we've earned the right to respect, and we're an invaluable part of Western society with which no one should trifle."

Thialnir made a thoughtful noise that invited Saviar to continue.

"But our own gods chose King Griff as ruler on high of the Westlands, and I trust their judgment implicitly. Have you ever known the man to make an unfair or unreasonable decision?"

"I don't agree with everything he decides, Saviar, if that's what you mean."

Saviar leaned forward, still maintaining eye contact. "Unfair or unreasonable?"

Thialnir narrowed his green eyes nearly to slits. "So you think the Renshai should just stand by and accept whatever the king of Bearn decides."

"Oh, no."

"No?" Thialnir seemed taken aback. "So, what do you think?"

"I think," Saviar said, uncertain exactly what was about to come out of his mouth. "I think the Renshai have a right to demand certain things. For example, since Bearn breached the agreement, not us, we should continue to get paid. They should be able to afford it given that the Northmen aren't asking for any compensation, and Bearn should be able to barter losing Renshai assistance in the war against the price of iron ore."

Thialnir rolled his eyes, head shaking. "But it's not the money, Savi. It's the battle Renshai want." He waxed eloquent, light gleaming like emeralds in his eyes. "The exhilaration of the sword, the brilliant splash of blood, the chance to earn a place in Valhalla."

"I know that." Saviar tried to rein in growing impatience. "But that's not the negotiable part, unfortunately. So long as we're paid, concern for necessities need not distract us from our swordwork. And I think we also need to assure that the heirs of Bearn remain in our protection."

Thialnir was clearly listening.

"Removing us from that job would be the ultimate insult," Saviar realized as he spoke it. "To put lesser swordsmen in charge of protecting Bearn's most precious treasures." He shook his head angrily at the mere thought. "We cannot allow that."

"On that," Thialnir agreed. "We cannot compromise." He smiled. "You're a wise man, Saviar Ra-khirsson."

Saviar winced at the realization of what he had just done. "I'm not sure my father and grandfather would agree." He shrugged. "But they represent Bearn and Erythane, while we are always Renshai."

"Now, about that battle…" Thialnir rose. He was even more massive than Saviar remembered, a brick wall of a Renshai also endowed with lightning speed.

Nevertheless, Saviar leaped from his seat simultaneously. Show no fear.

"Are you actually challenging me?"

Saviar would have preferred to face a pack of starved dogs, but he gave no hint of his hesitation to Thialnir. "If necessary. I'm always up for a good row, sir. I just don't fancy the need to slay a great Renshai."

Thialnir grinned. It began with a chuckle that gained volume and timbre until it sprouted into a full-throated laugh.

Saviar saw nothing funny in the situation. "Are you laughing at me, Thialnir? Because, if you are, you leave me no choice."

Thialnir waved him off. "No, Savi, I'm not laughing at you. But the day a Renshai child defeats me is the day I commit taphreselmordat." The word literally translated to "brave suicide," the Renshai phrase for leaping into an unwinnable battle for the sole purpose of dying in glory for Valhalla rather than of illness or weakness.

Still gravely insulted, Saviar stood his ground. "I can defeat you, old man. My adulthood is assured next testing, and I am your worthy equal." He had spoken fighting words, and he expected an instant assault that did not come.

Instead, Thialnir considered the words, giving them a surprising amount of contemplation. Thialnir was better known for his swift and unstoppable attacks. "I am an old man, Saviar. I'm fifty-five, older than any Renshai need get, even in these accursed times of politics and peace."

Saviar felt a sudden pressure in his chest. He had triggered something unexpected. "Sir? With all due respect, you would not set any records for oldest living Renshai."

"Perhaps not." Thialnir retook his seat. "But age and too much 'affairs of state' have softened me. I want out. I'm tired of representing Renshai as a group. I want to go back to worrying about nothing but my sword arm."

Saviar stared. It seemed impossible that any Renshai adult would confide in him, especially about something so personal.

"Would you consider taking my place?"

Stunned, Saviar dropped back into his own seat. He had heard clearly but could only utter, "What?"

"Saviar Ra-khirsson, would you consider succeeding me as speaker for the Renshai?"

"But… but I'm not even a man yet."

"You just informed me you would definitely pass your next testing."

"Yes, but… I'm not even a… a full-blooded-"

Thialnir interrupted, anger tingeing his tone. "There is no such thing as half a Renshai. One either is or isn't, and you are."

Saviar knew the deal. Most offspring of Renshai and ganim were not considered Renshai at all. They had no right to any of the training. "Well, yes, but…"

"Do you know why we accepted you into the tribe, Saviar?"

Ra-khir never talked about it, but Tae had proven easier for the twins to crack. "You found my father worthy."