Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

Ra-khir found himself so focused on these welcome sounds that Darby's whisper startled him. "We're not going to fight this army, are we?"

Ra-khir smiled. We wouldn't last long. "No. These are friends."

Relief washed across Darby's face, displacing a greenish tinge. "I'm so glad to hear that, sir."

As they drew nearer, Ra-khir held his stallion to a slow pace, kept his hand from his hilt, and made no attempt to hide or move quietly. He would give the Renshai no reason to assume he meant them any harm.

Though he risked a kick, Darby kept his horse directly on Silver Warrior's tail.

Ra-khir brushed past a clump of thistles to get his first look at the camp. Renshai were scattered amidst trees and across a small field. Many were engaged in practice skirmishes with one another that looked deadlier than most wars. Others sat cleaning or sharpening blades.

Ra-khir rode up to a relaxed group tending their weapons. They all certainly noticed him, yet they made no move to challenge him. Their composure sent a shiver through Ra-khir. Darby might see it as a strange and cool disinterest, but Ra-khir knew better. These Renshai simply did not see the two newcomers as a threat. Any of them believed they could dispatch the two horsemen without bothering to prepare.

Ra-khir recognized all of them but remembered the names for only two of the five, a man and a woman of similar age to his sons. "Hello, Ashavir. Hello, Tarah. Hello, other Renshai."

Recollection flashed across their faces, and the two identified by name both smiled.

"Well, hello, Calistin's father," Ashavir said in greeting. The Renshai often referred to him in this manner, and almost always in regard to Calistin rather than Saviar. Though it seemed disrespectful, as though his name were not worth learning, Ra-khir knew the Renshai intended it as a compliment, linking him with the Renshai's greatest warrior. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

"I've come to visit my sons." Ra-khir also grinned, trying to make the request sound casual. He expected them to laugh. He had implied traveling an inordinate distance for conversation over tea.

But the smiles faded from all of the Renshai's faces. The ones not addressed returned to their business. Tarah glanced toward the center of camp, and Ashavir cleared his throat.

Ra-khir's heart seized in his chest. Their evasiveness suggested he would not find his boys here, and Ra-khir could think of only one reason why. Killed by Northmen? Both of them? He closed his eyes. Gods, no. Don't let that be true. He had already considered the possibility, but he now realized he had never actually believed it.

"You'll need to talk to Thialnir about that," Ashavir said carefully. "He's center camp, working on a fire."

Ra-khir knew better than to question further. It would only waste time. His chest felt as if someone had filled it with boulders, and it took longer than it ever should to get Silver Warrior headed in the indicated direction. His thoughts narrowed to a single channel. Saviar, dead. Calistin, dead. Didn't say "good-bye." His heart already accepted the inevitable, its beat unsteady; but his brain would not allow him to believe until he heard those precise words.

The fire was already blazing when Ra-khir arrived. Massive Thialnir stood among many other Renshai, surrounding the corpse of a deer. Several had knives in hand as they debated how and whether to take the fur off the beast before searing it. Under other circumstances, the conversation might have amused Ra-khir. The consummate swordmasters were hopeless when it came to such simple tasks as hunting and cooking. He wondered how they had even caught and felled the beast. Probably surprised it and fell upon it with swords.

At Ra-khir's approach, the Renshai turned toward him, en masse. Ra-khir dismounted and addressed Darby. "Show them how to skin a deer, would you please?"

With a nod, Darby dismounted and headed toward the corpse. Ra-khir turned his attention to the Renshai. "I need to speak with Thialnir. In private."

The enormous leader of the Renshai seemed relieved to let a boy stranger take over his task. He rubbed his hands together, dislodging chunks of dirt, and walked toward Ra-khir.

Swiftly, Ra-khir whipped the bridle from Silver Warrior to allow the hungry stallion to graze. He did the same for Darby's chestnut before heading off to a secluded spot with Thialnir. "My sons…" he started, before they had even finished walking beyond earshot. "… are they here?"

Thialnir did not make Ra-khir wait. "No, Ra-khir, they're gone."

"Gone?" Ra-khir needed more. The Renshai rarely used euphe misms, especially for death.

"Calistin rode north to demand the battle that should have been his to fight."

Ra-khir inhaled sharply in sudden understanding. "He's riding into thousands of enemies to challenge Valr Magnus?"

Thialnir smiled, which seemed inappropriate to Ra-khir. "Did you expect otherwise, Sir Knight? Pen-fruit doesn't grow on hadongo trees, and aristiri hawks don't hatch from lizard eggs."

Ra-khir managed only a slight upward twitch of the corners of his mouth. It was more of a tolerant smile than an amused one. "I get it. You're saying Kevral was a maniac, so I should expect the same from my boys."

"Kevral?" Thialnir reared his head backward in exaggerated surprise. "Kevral was simply one of many brave and talented Renshai. The maniac, as you so eloquently put it, is Calistin's father."

Me? Ra-khir did not know what to say.

"As I understand it, you single-handedly declared war on the Westlands' largest city."

"Well, yes, but-"

"And engineered a prison break through the high kingdom's impossible maze."

"That was-"

"Looked upon Valhalla while alive, volunteered to face unknown physical and magical dangers on multiple worlds, and even took Colbey Calistinsson's prized stallion."

"Now wait a second! I didn't take Colbey's horse. He gave it to me." Ra-khir realized how ridiculous that sounded even as the words left his lips.

But Thialnir only smiled more broadly. "I rest my case."

It was not worth arguing, even if it weren't all true. Ra-khir sighed. "You couldn't stop Calistin?"

"I could more easily have stopped the Ragnarok, I think." Thialnir's grin turned lopsided. "Besides, he disappeared immediately after the battle. There was no chance for talking."

Ra-khir knew he had no choice but to go after Calistin, to keep him from committing suicide out of a sense of obligation or, worse, retaliation. "And Saviar?"

Thialnir looked around Ra-khir toward the fire. "Saviar, I could have stopped. But I didn't."

Ra-khir blinked. It sounded like a foolish answer, but Thialnir was no fool. For the moment, he reveled in the knowledge that both boys had survived the battle and let Thialnir explain.

"His brothers needed him more than we did."

"Brothers?" Ra-khir felt certain he had heard the plural. "You mean Subikahn was here, too?"

As always, Thialnir got right to the point. "Yes, though not officially. He remained hidden."

Ra-khir's brow furrowed, and he fell silent as he pondered the significance of that information.

As if in direct response to the thought, Thialnir explained. "Calistin's too impulsive and would benefit from Saviar's common sense. And Subikahn returned without his torke, which means he's in some kind of trouble in the East. Given that he's a prince, it's likely serious; and his refusal to actually join us, his own people, suggests he may have murdered Talamir and can't face us. Saviar claims he got himself banished from the Eastlands."

"Subikahn banished from the East?" It seemed utterly impossible.

Thialnir's huge shoulders rose and fell again. "I don't know if it's true, but Subikahn and Calistin needed Saviar more than I did. So, I told him to go. It didn't take much encouragement."