Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

An image sprang to vivid life almost in Saviar's face. Startled, he jumped backward to find himself facing an enormous woman, a giant, bathed in golden light. She wore battle gear, including a helmet, that should have hidden every evidence of femininity; and, yet, he somehow knew that beneath the armor she was curvaceous and beautiful. Shrewd blue eyes peered out from hawkish features, and a cascade of yellow hair flowed around them. Beside her stood an exact, but insubstantial, duplicate of Kevral. Vital and happy.

"Ma-" was all Saviar managed.

Kevral smiled, her face glowing. "Keep it, Savi."

Saviar had no idea what she meant but found himself incapable of questions. He could only stare.

"The sword," Kevral explained. "Rache asked me to return it when I earned Valhalla, but the Valkyrie says I cannot bring anything with me." She gestured at the accompanying figure.

A tear dribbled down Saviar's cheek. Then another. Feeling paralyzed, he made no move to wipe them away.

"Don't cry, Savi. I'm so very happy.This is what I've always wanted, what I've worked for my entire life. I'm chosen for Valhalla."

Saviar knew she spoke truth, but the reality overwhelmed him. I can see a Valkyrie. A Valkyrie! And Mama's spirit. How can that possibly be?

"The other sword belongs to Calistin. I regret I have nothing equal for Subikahn, except for some advice: He will find happiness when he is true to what the gods have made him."

The Valkyrie said something to Kevral that Saviar could not hear, then took her arm.

"And tell your father I have always loved him."

A silent bolt of lightning opened the sky so suddenly it startled Saviar anew. A golden haze surrounded the Valkyrie and the new Einherjar, then disappeared as quickly, leaving nothing but the real world to intrude upon Saviar's fantasy. Unable to process what he had just seen, Saviar crumpled to his bottom, still clutching the sword.

A shadow fell over Saviar, and Calistin's voice yanked him from his trance. "Get up! Saviar, that's not a defensible position."

Saviar shook his head to clear it. The noises of the crowd flooded back into his consciousness, undecipherable and deafening. Valr Magnus had left the arena, and Ra-khir sobbed over Kevral's body. Without thinking, Saviar rose to a crouch.

"You saw them, didn't you?" Calistin's tone sounded almost accusatory, yet there was also a hint of worry.

Saviar could only nod. He looked at the sword in his hand. The blade needed a thorough cleaning before he could sheath it. Calistin held the sword Colbey had given their mother, and he clearly knew it belonged to him.

"How?" Calistin asked, now sounding more like a little brother turning to an older, wiser one. "How could we-?"

Saviar had never seen Calistin so vulnerable, and it brought out his protective instincts. He finally found his tongue. "I don't know." He continued to stare at his newly acquired weapon. "But it seemed to have something to do with this." He shook Motfrabelonning. "I couldn't see anything till I took it. I think it holds some sort of… of… magic."

Calistin looked at the weapon in his own hands, swallowed hard, then lowered his voice still further. "Saviar?"

"Hmmm?"

"I wasn't holding any weapon when I saw her. I just… I just…" Calistin dropped to Saviar's level. "… saw her. Then Hildr dropped from the sky-"

"Hildr?"

"Hildr, Warrior. The Valkyrie."

Saviar blinked. "She told you her name?"

"I just knew it." Calistin's brow furrowed at the realization of what he had just said. "Not sure how, but I did."

Saviar glanced over the crowd. An argument had broken out, surely over the injustice of the battle. Apparently, no one else had seen the ghost and the Valkyrie; but he doubted anyone had missed the man leaping onto Kevral from an overhead branch. "Calistin?"

"Hmmm?"

"I don't think we should mention this to anyone."

Calistin nodded vigorously. "I'm not saying anything."

Saviar turned his gaze on Ra-khir, where he cradled Kevral's limp form, his grief etched across features smeared with tears. Saviar gritted his teeth, his heart aching. He had never seen his father in so much agony. His every instinct told him to console, but duty drew him elsewhere. "Calistin, you'll have to comfort Papa."

"Comfort?" Calistin rocked back on his heels. "Me?"

"Of course, you. He's your father, too."

"Yes, but, I don't know how to-"

Saviar glanced toward the king, where Erik Leifsson and Thialnir waved their arms around in clear argument. "You're going to have to do your best." Springing to his feet, Saviar ran toward the conflict. His brother's protestations chased him. Incredible swordsman, hopeless human being. For the first time in his life, Saviar actually felt sorry for Calistin, for what the Renshai had turned him into. So competent, yet so ignorant about so many things. He wove past the Knights of Erythane, still stationed to keep noncombatants off the field, though no longer as busy. Nearly all of the spectators had broken off into little groups to discuss the events, and a growing number watched the argument taking place before the king.

The Knights of Erythane allowed Saviar to pass unchallenged. He arrived just in time to hear Erik present his plea. "Your Majesty, it was the Renshai, themselves, who added the friendly interference clause."

Thialnir exploded, dispensing with formality. "I meant Renshai! Renshai would not interfere with-"

"Your Majesty," Erik kept his tone tightly modulated, a stark contrast to Thialnir's shouting. "… we all agree the interferer was Erythanian, is that not correct?"

King Humfreet appealed to Kedrin. "Knight-Captain? Do we have the man's identity yet?"

Kedrin stepped forward and executed a flourishing bow. "Sire, it was Frendon Harveki's son. An Erythanian as far back as history can determine."

The king cleared his throat, pulling at his beard. "And what does this Frendon Harveki's son say about his actions?"

"Nothing, Sire," Kedrin said carefully, attention fully on his liege. "We found him dead, his throat slit."

A slight smile played around Thialnir's lips, and Saviar prayed he did not laugh. It would make the Renshai look even coarser.

Erik's face drained of color. "Murder," he growled.

The king took the news in stride. "Under the circumstances, one could hardly expect otherwise."

It was a subtle insult to the Renshai way of life, but it did not bother Saviar or, apparently, Thialnir.

King Humfreet continued, "Are there family members or friends who wish to speak on his behalf?"

Kedrin performed another bow, not as grand as the first. "Sire, they refuse to come forward for fear of reprisal…"

Erik loosed an irritated snort but said nothing derogatory about the Renshai. Whether he did so in deference to royalty or so as not to antagonize Thialnir, Saviar could not guess.

Captain Kedrin glanced toward Erik in warning. "… but they told us he had nothing against the Renshai. They said he climbed the tree to get a better look at the combat. They think his fall was an accident."

Saviar frowned in disbelief.

Erik made a gesture, which the king acknowledged. "Your Majesty, King Griff in Bearn informed us that Renshai fall under Erythanian jurisdiction." Though he spoke innocently, his intentions seemed anything but to Saviar. "Is that not correct,Your Majesty?"

A shiver traversed Saviar's spine, but he refused to show it. He remembered his grandfather's description of that conversation. The Northern captain had asked King Griff to purge the Renshai from the West. Griff had coolly responded that the Fields of Wrath were a part of the sovereign city of Erythane and that he had no authority to banish anyone from King Humfreet's country. Though the high king of the entire Westlands by title, Griff rarely interfered with the dominion of other rulers, unless it involved a spat between them or if the highest authority in those lands requested his aid. The king of Bearn had also used that opportunity to essentially force the Northmen into agreeing to help against the pirates.