Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

Thialnir yawned, looking around the pyres. "I did, and I will in the future.You're obviously responsible enough to return when your brothers' need for you is no longer so urgent. Of course, we can use every sword arm, Savi. But, when it comes to talking to Tae, I can handle that alone. No procedure, no flowery words, no fuss. He's as earthy as they come. We'll get a yes or a no, without contracts full of twists, verbal or written."

"And the Renshai?"

"Thialnir shrugged one massive shoulder. "Will do just fine. We always do. Not because we're the chosen people of the gods, though we are. And not because we're descended from demons, which we're not." He placed a fatherly arm across Saviar's shoulders. "It's because we're talented, hardworking, and resourceful. And that's the Renshai secret." He ruffled Saviar's hair with his other hand.

Saviar suffered a sudden and unexpected pang of homesickness. He not only missed the Fields of Wrath, but the loving father he had cursed daily since his mother's death.

"Whether we land on harsh islands or barren deserts, we will thrive, as we always have. There will always be hordes of jealous people who resent our abilities and attribute our successes to dark magic, trickery, or deceit. But the truth of the matter, Saviar, is that we are willing to put in an effort most are not. Instead of complaining about our misfortunes, or blaming others, we work to turn them around. We do not wallow in self-pity, we fix the problem. In the last three hundred years, Renshai have never started a war, yet we finish all of them-and win, even vastly outnumbered. And, while people claim to love honor, to revere heroism; in actuality, they despise it because it reminds them of their own shortcomings, makes them feel inferior. And so, Renshai will always survive and always be hated."

Saviar did not know what to say. He had never heard Thialnir speak so long, nor so eloquently. Obviously, and understandably, he had given the matter enormous thought.

"When people want to hate, they will find a way. It may require distortion of facts.They may have to rewrite history. But they will justify their hatred and still believe themselves to be good people. Unlike honor, truth is not subjective; yet even those who believe themselves most virtuous will find ways to rationalize their own prejudices, even while condemning others. Loathing Renshai has become so natural, so ingrained, that people don't even consider it an immoral thought anymore. The more successful we become, the more times we survive, the deeper that rage grows. Otherwise decent people would side with Northmen who slaughter them simply because those Northmen are our enemies. 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend' only applies when it doesn't mean siding with Renshai."

Saviar studied Thialnir's craggy face. Who are you? "That's… a very negative way to look at the world."

Thialnir patted Saviar's shoulder. "Trust me, Saviar. I've lived a long time, listened to a lot of morons in nobles' clothing."

"Why are you telling me this?" Saviar had enough problems without his leader heaping on more.

Thialnir removed his heavy arm, turned gracefully to fully face Saviar, and put a hand on each of the younger man's shoulders. "Because you're about to go among real strangers for the first time, and you need the tools to stay alive. Be proud of who you are, but there may be times when you want to hide it, even if it means lying."

Saviar scowled, bothered on three counts. First, Thialnir simply assumed he had already chosen to chase his brothers. Second, his father had taught him to embrace honesty at all times. And third, the words sounded suspiciously like a slight to his swordsmanship. "I can handle myself."

"You can defend yourself," Thialnir corrected. "That is not the same as 'handling.' "

"I understand diplomacy.You've seen me use it."

"You're fluid enough," Thialnir admitted. "Friendly interference clause aside." He rolled an eye in Saviar's direction, then smoothly looked away. Clearly, he did not intend to blame, only to explore Saviar's own emotions on the matter.

Thialnir's last words hit Saviar like rocks, and that surprised him. He had gone over the wording of that clause in his head a million times, wrapping his thoughts around it, amending it in his dreams. He thought he had left the guilt behind, but it clearly remained only shallowly buried. He could not stop himself from answering defensively, "My clause wasn't the problem. It was the ridiculous interpretation of it that lost the battle." Saviar realized he had to convince himself more than he did Thialnir. He could never fully escape the worry that he had permitted the treachery against his mother and ultimately doomed the Renshai. "And don't go telling me how fair and perfect my grandfather is."

Still clutching Saviar's shoulders, Thialnir fully met his gaze, brows rising. "I frequently disagree with Kedrin, including his interpretation of this clause. I didn't bring it up to blame you for what happened, Saviar. It's no more your fault than it was Calistan's. I'm simply trying to make a point."

"Which is?" Saviar prompted carefully.

"You're still young and a bit naive, though not nearly as much as either of your brothers. Just realize this: as a Westerner, you will be judged on the basis of your actions and character. As a Renshai, you will be judged on the basis of others' prejudices. If a Northman dismembers you, those who know you as Renshai will find excuses to rationalize his behavior."

Saviar rolled his eyes, tired of the speech. "But if I dismember him, they'll punish me. Except, I wouldn't dismember anyone, not even my worst enemy."

"No, Saviar. You don't understand." Thialnir's pale eyes seemed to bore through Saviar's. "If you do nothing but defend yourself, you will be punished and despised. If you dismember him, they will not only slaughter you, they will use it as an excuse to condemn the entire tribe of Renshai."

It seemed like rampant paranoia. "Really?"

"Really." Thialnir released Saviar's shoulders, but not his gaze. "The kings of Bearn are chosen by a fail-safe test. A ruler like Tae comes along once in a millennium or two, if the world is lucky. You will find the rest of the West's leaders, and those of the North, as fallible, fragile, and opinionated as any of their followers.

Saviar nodded. He believed he understood Thialnir's point and would take it to heart.

"Your brothers…" Suddenly, the words stopped coming so easily to Thialnir.

But Saviar appreciated the point. Despite his inhuman skill, though he had fought in the Pirate Wars, Calistin knew very little of societies and strangers. Subikahn had split his time between the Fields of Wrath, with its sole focus on swordplay, and his indulgent, royal father.

Thialnir finished lamely. "They need you, Saviar. More than I do."

"I'll do my best," Saviar promised, wondering how he would find either of his brothers.The cares of the last few days, once overwhelming, now seemed petty in comparison. His mother had done what any Renshai would have. His father's collapse spoke volumes for the love he held for Kevral; Saviar could only pray he found a woman worthy of such intense affection in his own life. Banished from the face of the universe, Subikahn had a right to choose which law he violated. And Calistin… was Calistin. Saviar saw no sense in trying to analyze someone, it seemed, he could never understand. Subikahn was right. It's me, not the world, that went insane. "But I'm not a very good liar."

Thialnir managed a single barking laugh. "That," he said, "is not a flaw." He headed back to help tend the pyres, without bothering to watch Saviar go.

Though it seemed futile, Saviar rushed back to the spot where he had left Subikahn. His twin had learned the art of concealment and silent movement, not only from the Renshai, but also from his father. By now, he was probably halfway to Pudar, flitting through shadows and cursing his brother with every step. Saviar had about as much chance of finding him as the most timid squirrel in the forest.