Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

You sure think you are, but you're far more irritating. Tae did not send that message to the cat.*I'm close to my father.* *On and off. Love and hate.* *I'm very close to my son.* *Not anymore.*

Battling a sudden urge to kick Imorelda down the stairs, Tae turned his attention to Alneezah. More to prove the cat wrong than from any personal reason, he asked, "Are you free for lunch?"

Alneezah froze in position. Her nostrils flared. Unobtrusively, she glanced over her shoulder, apparently looking for the recipient of the king's invitation.

Amused by her antics, Tae leaned against the banister. "I mean you, Alneezah. Are you free for lunch?"

"Am I free, Sire? Me?"

Tae had never seen Alneezah so flustered before. Usually, she seemed utterly unflappable, meeting even the most bizarre accidents with humor and commonsense. His brows inched upward in question.

"I suppose so, Sire. I mean, I guess that depends on you. I work for you. Am I free?"

Tae rubbed sweat from behind his neck with a hand. "I don't need any ice right now, so it would appear so. Will you join me?"

"For lunch?"

"Yes." The conversation amused Tae, took his mind off his troubles for the moment.

"In the kitchen?"

Tae never worried about where he dined. Often he skipped meals completely. "If you prefer. Or, we could take our meal in the courtyard."

Alneezah finally smiled, an attractive gesture for its open genu ineness. "The courtyard will work fine, Sire. Would it be all right if I prepare the food myself?"

The request caught Tae off guard. For an instant, he succumbed to dark instincts he could never quite shake. Could she have chosen to spend so much time around him in order to gain his confidence? It would prove simple enough to poison his food when she already had her hands in it.Tae belittled his own paranoia. That's right, stupid. An assassin spends years winning me over, then warns me before killing me. He trusted his judgment when it came to people, more so than anyone else's. Alneezah was exactly what she appeared to be.

"That depends, Alneezah. Are you a good cook?"

She laughed. "The best."

"The best, huh?" Tae headed up the stairs to change. "Then how can I possibly refuse?"

Imorelda yawned, stretched, and followed Tae. He expected her to gloat; but, instead, she brought back the thread of their previous conversation.*You know why I haven't taken a tom?*

Though Tae had never thought much about it in the past, he now discovered he had many theories. They included her tight bond to him and the realization that any other cat might seem too stupid in comparison for her to waste her time with them. *Because if I filled this castle with kittens, as my mother did in Bearn, you would throw me out on my gorgeous, pointy, little ears.* Imorelda shook her head.*That place is overrun with scores of moronic purrers.*

Tae turned, brows arched.*You should be careful what you call them. They are your brothers and sisters, after all.* *Grandnieces and grandnephews. Great great great grandnieces and grandnephews.* Imorelda made a snorting sneeze.*Basically, strangers.*

It amused Tae to see how his own personality seemed to have shaped Imorelda's. Mior had had a much sweeter mistress and a temperament to match.*Well, Matrinka can hardly kick out Mior's descendants, can she?* He continued up the stairs.

Imorelda ran up beside him.*I would. Cavorting amongst themselves and acting like plain old cats.They're an embarrassment to the lineage.* *What are you saying, Imorelda? That if you had kittens, I could just give them away?* *After a couple of months, of course.We could hardly keep them all running around the castle marrying their brothers. They need to make their own lives.*

Tae could scarcely believe what he was hearing.*And, yet, you're still chiding me for sending my full-grown son out into the world.*

Imorelda had no problem with the incongruity. Apparently, she did not even see it.*I miss him,* she said.

Tae sighed and finally admitted.*Imorelda, I miss him, too.*

Saviar watched Ra-khir glide forward and backward in the swing seat he had built for his occasional quiet nights with Kevral when duty called neither of them away. The movement had become repetitive to the point of insanity, the squeak of the leftmost spring a dull, chanting song that was giving Saviar a headache. "Papa?" he tried for the fifth time in a row.

Ra-khir seemed not to notice his son, his eyes glassy and distant. He kept his hands by his sides on the wooden seat, his legs dangling still, his body heaving just enough to keep the swing in motion.

Saviar waited for the swing to complete one of its forward arcs, then sprang on board. The contraption swayed rhythmically, but the young man kept his balance with ease. Crouching beside his father, he seized Ra-khir's hand. "Papa!"

Ra-khir finally turned his head toward his eldest son. "Oh, Saviar. Do you need something?"

"Of course I need something." Saviar had grown impatient.Three days of catatonic mourning was enough. "I've already lost my mother. I don't want to lose my father, too."

"That's not going to happen." Ra-khir's tone remained flat, haunted, gently remote. "I'll always be here for you, Saviar."

Will you?You're not even here right now. Saviar clenched his jaw.

"And your mother will…"

"… look down on me from Valhalla. I know. At least until someone names a child for her, and she becomes forever bound to them, like all Renshai Einherjar." If someone names a child for her. It occurred to Saviar that doing so might not suit anyone. Who wants to be associated with the Renshai who got us banished?

Ra-khir jerked, shook his head, and stopped the eternal swinging. His eyes filled up with tears. "Saviar, she's gone. Kevral is… gone."

Saviar gathered his father into his arms. It felt weird, utterly unnatural. His father was a large, strong man who never crumbled under pressure. This was the same hero who had faced off with Colbey Calistinsson without flinching, who had single-handedly challenged the city of Pudar to war. "Papa, you're upsetting us all. You married a Renshai; you knew you would outlive her."

"She's always been too skilled to die. And I thought I could-"

"You couldn't." Saviar did not want his father to finish that sentence. It might dishonor his mother's courage. "No one can protect a Renshai. No one should try."

Ra-khir casually reached out a toe to restart the swinging.

Saviar planted his own feet to prevent it. He would not risk losing Ra-khir's attention again. "Papa, I don't understand…"

"And I'm not sure I can explain." Ra-khir loosed an enormous sigh. A tear trickled from each eye, but they did not fill up again. "No matter how much I knew that Kevral's antics would get her killed sooner or later, my heart never did. I just can't believe-"

"That's not what I wanted." Saviar kept his face directly in front of Ra-khir's, their noses nearly touching, forcing his father to look. "When I said I didn't understand, I didn't mean your devotion to Mama. That, I understand perfectly; you both loved one another ardently. I get it. What I don't understand is why Grandpapa ruled the way he did. Clearly, Mama was winning that battle. And, clearly, the Erythanian's interference was the only reason the Northman won."

Ra-khir made a noncommittal noise.

"So how could any sane man rule against us?" Saviar found moisture filling his own eyes, and brushed it away with angry fists. The thought had smoldered for the last few days. He felt terribly betrayed by one of the few people he had once wholly trusted. "Does Grandpapa want us to go away forever?"