Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

For several moments, the crowd stood in stunned silence. Then some ran to Karruno, too late to help him but trying fruitlessly to do so. Others charged into the streets, swallowed by the shadows. A few remained in place, staring at Karruno's body or openmouthed and furious at Calistin. No one challenged him, however.

Finished with his task, Calistin headed out into another night of lonely sleep in the cold, wet Western forests.

The sun beamed over the western forests, promising a beautiful day of travel, and Saviar tried his best to savor it. He had discovered the purpose his life had lacked for weeks, he had found his twin brother, and the funk that had settled over him since his mother's death finally seemed to have lifted. No one was dying or mourning to excess. No one was stalking or harassing him to the point of violent confrontation. Even the denizens of the forest seemed oblivious to the two Renshai in their midst. Birds flitted between the trees, exchanging happy twitters. Squirrels scrounged unhurriedly for nuts, and tiny lizards sunned themselves on rocks still damp from the previous day's rain, moving only when a shadow fell directly across them.

Still, Saviar had to force himself to revel in the warm, clear comfort of balmy weather and the fresh aromas of evergreens and undergrowth. He and Subikahn would devote themselves to a conventional heroism his life had sorely lacked, and he anticipated so much exhilaration and worthiness in their future. It had taken immense tragedy to get them to this point, but those misfortunes were mostly behind them. He wished he could find the will to enjoy every glad moment his mind and heart could spare.

Yet, despite the weather, and Saviar's deliberate focus on positive thoughts, two days spent trudging silently through the western forests frayed at his mood. He had not given much thought to the journey, instead imaging himself and Subikahn performing heroic acts and earning grateful companionship, the finest drink, and plates heaped with fresh-cooked food. Between their feats of courage, the twins would discuss the time they had spent apart, learning great new insights about one another, and becoming ever closer.

Subikahn and circumstance, however, seemed absolutely determined to sabotage Saviar's glee. Whenever the redhead tried to engage his twin in conversation, his attempts resulted in gruff monosyllabic responses. No matter what he said, the topic veered to Subikahn's private dilemmas, which always resulted in an angry plea to let bitter secrets lie. Furthermore, Saviar had the feeling that his furtive brother was deliberately avoiding inhabited areas, forcing them to subsist on journey bread, weeds, and berries. Those seemed to satisfy the smaller, slighter Subikahn but left Saviar with a painful hole in his belly that further devastated his mood.

In a last desperate effort to revive his failing joy, Saviar whirled through a glittery sprinkle of sunlight. "So, Subi," he said, in the happiest tone he could muster. "Just tell me something good that's happened to you recently."

Subikahn jerked his head toward Saviar, clearly startled by the question. His black hair hung in stringy tangles, twined through with twigs and leaves. Though his lifelong brother, Subikahn looked strangely alien that day: his features so very Eastern, his skin darker than Saviar remembered. It seemed odd to Saviar how a months-long separation could make the most intimate friends and family appear so utterly foreign. "Something good?"

"Something good," Saviar insisted. "It can't be that hard."

"Talamir…" Subikahn fairly choked on the name, and Saviar thought he saw a welling tear. "He… he said I would definitely pass my tests of manhood."

Not wanting to ruin the moment, Saviar did not mention that it no longer mattered; they had both become men through warfare. Instead, he glommed onto the positive. It was the most words Subikahn had strung together since they had started on this journey. "Mama said the same to me."

"Mama did?" Subikahn's brow furrowed, and he shook his head dubiously. "Mama? Not a chance."

Saviar stopped walking to confront his brother directly. He felt the familiar ire rising, the one he thought he had finally fully shaken. The last remnants of his forced good mood drifted away like smoke. "What do you mean, 'not a chance'? You think I'm lying?"

"I just can't see Mama saying it. No maneuver in the history of Renshai was ever done well enough to please Kevralyn Tainharsdatter."

They both added simultaneously, "Unless Calistin did it."

Stilted laughter followed. Saviar could not remember the last time he had found anything funny; but, oddly, even sharing a joke with his twin did little to lift his slumping spirits. The anger he had kept suppressed for two days seeped out, no longer containable.

Subikahn added soberly, "Well, he really is pretty amazing."

"And he's the first to admit it," Saviar could not help growling. "Damn it, now you've wrecked my mood."

"Sorry," Subikahn said, not sounding it at all. "But it seems to me you started this conversation."

"Yeah," Saviar said, not bothering to track the thread all the way back to its beginning. "I told you what Mama said, and you called me a liar."

"I didn't," Subikahn protested. "I merely stated that Mama was never, shall we say, 'free' with her praise."

"But she did believe I'd pass my tests."

"All right."

"She did!"

Subikahn snapped, "I'm not arguing with you."

"No, but you don't believe me."

"If you say it happened, it happened. Saviar, I've never known you to lie."

At the moment, no words would have soothed Saviar. He fumed, for reasons he could not wholly explain. "You think you're a better swordsman than me. Don't you?"

Subikahn stopped walking to study his brother. "I'd be a poor excuse for a Renshai if I didn't believe I was a better swordsman than everyone."

"You don't think you're better than Calistin."

Subikahn smiled. "Well, that would just be stupid."

Saviar could not understand why this conversation bothered him so much. He thought he had overcome his rage against his family, his belief that all of them had gone insane.Yet, he still found Subikahn's words an irresistible challenge. "Oh, but it's not stupid to think you're better than me?"

Subikahn heaved a deep sigh. "Look, Savi. We're both blooded, pretty much at the exact same moment. We're men now, tests or no. What does it matter who's better than who?"

"I don't know!" Saviar admitted, still shouting. "I don't know why it matters, but it does. It matters."

"Not to me."

Saviar turned away. His own irrationality frightened him, but it refused to go away. "So Talamir said you'd pass?"

"Virtually assured it."

Saviar grunted. "Well, if he's such a great torke, where is he? Why isn't he helping the Renshai when they need every sword arm?"

Subikahn's jaw set. "Leave Talamir out of this."

"Why?"

"Because I said to." Subikahn's tone went dangerously flat.

Saviar knew he had gained the upper hand, and he found himself incapable of not exploiting it. "Why? Was he detained by a phalanx of Eastern girls? Is he too much of a coward to face real Northmen?"

"That's it!" Subikahn threw up his hands. "Draw your weapon, Savi."

"Did he get waylaid by a terrifying band of roving squirrels?"

"Draw!" Subikahn hollered.

Saviar turned away, that gesture alone an implicit declaration of war. "If you'd just tell me what's going on instead of leaving me-"

"Draw, you obnoxious lumbering bastard, or I'll cut you down where you stand."

Saviar whirled back to face an angry Renshai with sword in hand. Subikahn's face had gone red as brick clay, his knuckles white around his hilt.