Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

Saviar rounded on his younger brother. "How can we disabuse others of the notion that we're savages when some of our own still believe it? Still endorse it?"

Thialnir raised his hands to forestall the budding argument. "Enough! I have many more Renshai to rouse, and I hope you'll do the same." He gave Calistin a glare that spoke volumes. An underlying gleam made it clear Thialnir wished they could do exactly as the young man suggested, yet it also held a warning. No matter how tempting, Calistin must not act upon his desires.

Treysind wandered sleepily from Calistin's room. Despite Calistin's threats, the boy had taken to sleeping in a spare corner there. Apparently spying no danger to his hero, Treysind yawned and quietly observed the exchange. The only one in the house still sleeping, apparently, was Ra-khir. For reasons Saviar could not explain, his father's incaution irked him.

"We're gathering on the south border," Thialnir said. "If you're coming, get your things and meet us there." He turned on his heel and strode out the door.

"If we're coming…?" Calistin's brows rose in slow increments, and he turned toward his brother.

Saviar's ire rose further as he realized Ra-khir had not yet discussed staying with Calistin, had left the difficult explanation to his older son. "I'm not sure anyone could make you leave if you didn't want to go."

Calistin grunted. It was simple truth.

"And Papa says we have permission to stay."

"We?"

"You, me, and Subikahn."

Calistin's brows remained arched. "Because we're the sons of a knight?"

"No." Saviar thought it best to avoid discussion of manhood and childhood. "Because our only living relatives are Erythanian, not Renshai." He tried not to look too eager for Calistin's response, hating to admit how much he valued his little brother's opinion.

To Saviar's chagrin, Calistin went right for the argument he had dodged. "I'm a man and a Renshai. The details of living relatives do not matter. I would never forsake my tribe."

"Nor I," Saviar added hastily; though, at the time he had fallen asleep, he had still grappled with the decision. "I'm just explaining why Thialnir used the phrase 'if you're coming.' "

"Fine." Calistin strode toward his room, looking for all the world like a man despite his boyish size and features. "Let's pack, then, and tell Papa good-bye."

The idea of involving Ra-khir rankled Saviar. Partly, he did not want a scene, did not want to explain to his honorable father why they had to leave, did not want Ra-khir trying to talk him out of the decision. He needed to become a man before he could return to Erythane, even if it meant he could never return at all. "I'll pack. But let's not wake Papa. He's still distraught over Mama. He doesn't need to grapple with another loss." It was a weak explanation. Obviously, Ra-khir would have to deal with their leaving whether or not they told him first.

But Calistin accepted it without comment. He trusted Saviar implicitly when it came to matters of emotion and heart.

"You'll need clothes, Hero's brother." Treysind stated the obvious. "You start swinging sharp things around dressed like that, you might lose something important."

Saviar could not help smiling. "You're coming with us, Treysind?"

"Of course."

Calistin groaned as he returned to his bedroom. "But you're Erythanian, kid.You're not banished."

"My place," Treysind declared emphatically as he followed Calistin, "is at your side."

Dead at his feet's more like it. Saviar headed for his own room to pack. He felt bad for the little Erythanian doomed to die by his own crazed decision, yet Saviar fully intended to enjoy his brother's discomfort while it lasted.

Ra-khir paced the edges of the Bellenet Fields for what felt like the thousandth time that day. Silver Warrior grazed, seemingly oblivious to his rider's consternation, his bridle dangling properly from his saddle, the packet of knightly garb lying neatly wrapped on top. In the distance, Ra-khir could see his father working the men on the fields, talking, gesturing, and demonstrating techniques. It seemed like an eternity before the captain finally left his troops to their own devices to address his son.

Ra-khir's heart rate quickened at his father's approach. He had rehearsed what he wished to say seventy times, yet memory disappeared as the tall, well-muscled man approached him.

"Sir Ra-khir." Kedrin acknowledged him with a nod. "Surely, you're not ready to assume your duties."

"No, Captain." Ra-khir felt his gaze straying to his boots and forced himself to look at his father. "I've come to… to tender my resignation from the Knights of Erythane."

Kedrin stiffened ever so slightly, the only indication that the words surprised him. "Tender your resignation, Sir Ra-khir?"

"Yes, sir."

Kedrin continued to stare at Ra-khir, still betraying no clear emotion or reaction. "Are you aware, Sir Ra-khir, that such a decision would have to be permanent? That you could never return to my service or to that of any Knight-Captain who succeeded me?"

Ra-khir swallowed hard. The knighthood was all he had ever wanted as a boy. He had worked so hard to attain his position, and it meant nearly everything to him. Yet, his family, he realized, meant more. "Yes, Captain. I do understand."

"You no longer believe in our purpose, our honor? Sir Ra-khir, is being a Knight of Erythane no longer fulfilling to you?"

"It's not that." Ra-khir felt a lump growing in his throat. Tears stung his eyes. "It's not that at all, Captain. It's just…" He found himself incapable of finishing, unable to speak words he could scarcely believe himself.

"Yes?" Kedrin encouraged.

"The Renshai left last night, sir." The voice did not sound like his own.

"I'm aware of that." Kedrin looked back at his charges, who were working diligently in his absence. "I've heard."

"My sons… my boys… went with them." Ra-khir fought a losing battle to withhold tears. Despite his best efforts, they dripped down his cheeks. He put a hand over his face to hide them. "I'm sorry, Captain. I… I just can't…"

"No apologies necessary, Sir Ra-khir. You're on deferment because of grief. I could hardly fault you for… grieving."

Ra-khir could only nod.

Kedrin removed his hat and put an arm across Ra-khir's shoulders. "Ra-khir." He dropped the "sir" to indicate they now spoke as relatives, not leader and subordinate. "We found a way for them to stay, but, ultimately, Calistin and Saviar are grown. They're allowed to make their own decisions."

Ra-khir understood Kedrin's point. He forced himself to speak. "I'm not sure they did."

Lines creased Kedrin's brow. "What do you mean?"

Ra-khir swallowed hard. He had to force out the next few words. "I haven't been a very good father."

"Ra-khir-" Kedrin started, giving him a stern look; but Ra-khir raised a hand to stop him.

"I don't mean over the years, I mean since Kevral…" It surprised Ra-khir that he still found it nearly impossible to say. His throat seemed to close off completely, and the tears quickened; but he forced himself to say it, "… died. I-I got so caught up in my own sadness I didn't… didn't even try to allay theirs."

"You loved her." It was not an excuse, just a simple statement of fact.

"More than I knew anyone could. She fills my dreams with happiness, with hope. Then I wake up, and she's not there. Nothing is there but this huge, dark, empty hole." Ra-khir could no longer see for the tears, and his eyes already ached and burned. "I don't think I can go on without her."

"You can," Kedrin said sternly. "And you will."

Ra-khir nodded, unable to speak. He would never stoop to the dishonor of suicide. A long silence followed before Ra-khir found his tongue. Even then, his voice emerged thick and slurred. "Papa, I have to go after them. Whether or not they choose to return, they must know they aren't… orphans."