Flight of the Renshai

CHAPTER 13

a great leader must inspire his men to self-sacrificing achievements. luckily, with renshai followers, this is not hard.

– thialnir thrudazisson

Thelong walk down the castle hallway felt like a death march to Saviar, the tension heightened by the somberly formal dress and demeanor of the Knights of Erythane who accompanied him. Though usually proud of both sides of his heritage, at times like this, Saviar would have preferred to have a normal father. He could use a strong pat on the back, verbal encouragements, and paternal suggestions that might even include shortcuts and cheats gleaned from Ra-khir's own childhood.

Kedrin and Ra-khir wore their knight's garb, with the proper countries' colors. Saviar dressed himself in tight-fitting gray and red, free from flowing fabrics that might hinder him in battle, from adornments that could inadvertently block a sword stroke, and selecting hues that demonstrated no allegiance or meaning. For the day, he would appear solely and purely Renshai.

Kedrin stopped in front of a door on the ground floor of Bearn Castle, then turned to face his son and grandson. "Ready?"

Saviar nodded.

Ra-khir lowered his head. "Yes, sir."

Kedrin knocked on the door, the sound echoing boldly down the great hall. Servants at the end looked toward the sound, then scurried around the corner and back to work.

A deep voice came from within, muffled by the door. "Enter."

Kedrin tripped the latch and pushed open the door to reveal a large, windowless room, sparsely furnished. A scarred, stained table filled the center, with half a dozen chairs placed patternlessly around it. Lit by lanterns in wide-spaced sconces, the room remained shadowed in splotches and bright in others. Thialnir sat near the far end beside tiny Minister Chaveeshia.

The contrast was almost laughably startling. Massive as any Bearnide, Thialnir was broad-boned and featured, his golden hair wound through with silver and hanging in multiple war braids. Age had creased his cheeks and neck, but his eyes and nose remained strong, predatory. His hands on the table looked huge to Saviar, who could not miss the enormous sword strapped across the Renshai's back. Though he felt a sudden desire to run, Saviar gave no sign of it. A lifetime of training would not allow him to show a hint of cowardice.

Chaveeshia should have disappeared into the shadow of the huge warrior, yet she did not. As Minister of Local Affairs, she regularly handled the representatives of Bearn's closest neighbors, specifically Thialnir for the Renshai and Kedrin for Erythane. If she felt uncomfortable pitted as the go-between in a confrontation between her charges, she did not show it. She wore her brown hair swept up in a no-nonsense style, and her hazel eyes held a clear air of courage and command.

The knights took the seats directly opposite Chaveeshia and Thialnir, leaving Saviar with a difficult, split-second decision. Hesitation would be seen as weakness. He could find a chair either at or away from the table at an aloof distance. Instead, he claimed the head seat and kept his features squared in interest. Whether or not he belonged there, he needed to look as if he did.

Only Thialnir bothered to glance in Saviar's direction, and the older Renshai appeared amused. He clearly felt he could best every man in the room at once, if necessary; and he was probably right. Saviar suddenly wished he had not agreed to come, though he didn't let his trepidations show. Vulnerability only goaded predators to attack.

Knight-Captain Kedrin cleared his throat. "Good morning, Thialnir Thrudazisson." He nodded at the Renshai. "Minister Chaveeshia."

"Good morning, Captain," Chaveeshia replied woodenly. Thialnir only grunted.

"I suppose you're both wondering why I've called you here."

Thialnir spoke first. "Not really. I'm sure it has something to do with that…" He fairly spat the word, "… Northman."

Formalities were wasted on Thialnir, and delay would only enrage him, so Kedrin went straight to the point. "As you know, they've asked King Griff to discharge the Renshai from serving in the Pirate Wars."

"Yes," Thialnir said. He kept his gaze trained on Kedrin; though, like all Renshai, he would see any threatening movement no matter from what direction it came.

"In exchange, they have offered their own armies to assist Bearn at no cost."

"Yes," Thialnir said again. "In war, I would rather have a single Renshai at my side than any army."

Kedrin blinked, and a slight smile played across his lips. "I believe he actually said, 'In war, I would rather have Rache at my side than any army.' But, as Rache was a single Renshai, the sentiment is the same."

Now, Thialnir blinked, frowning. "Who said that?"

Saviar tried to remain absolutely still. He knew to whom his grandfather referred.

Kedrin's brows rose. "The world's greatest general: Santagithi. The one who masterminded the defeat of the Eastlands in the Great War." He pursed his lips, then added, "Weren't you quoting?"

Thialnir barely moved. "I was simply stating a fact. One Renshai is more valuable than an entire Northern army."

To Saviar's relief, Kedrin did not argue the point. "Value is not the issue here."

Thialnir nodded his agreement. "The issue is whether or not King Griff chooses numbers over quality. Whether he spurns an ally or an enemy."

Chaveeshia stepped in. "That's not fair, Thialnir. Northmen are not the enemy; and no one will get spurned."

Thialnir did not bother to look at the minister, his attention still centered on Kedrin. "Northmen consider us the enemy. Those who appease our enemies cannot remain our friends."

Kedrin regained the upper hand. "Politics are not so simple, Thialnir. For His Majesty, the decision is not whether he prefers Northmen or Renshai. He has trusted only Renshai to guard his children, as many kings before him."

"So it's money?" Thialnir suggested. "Is that why you mentioned that the Northmen have offered armies at no cost? Would you begrudge the Renshai sustenance?"

"Money is not the issue."

Saviar knew the kingdom paid the Renshai to guard their heirs and for their assistance in the wars. It was a necessity. Since Renshai knew no other trade than warfare, they had no other goods or services to barter, no way to create their own economy. Instead, they sold their sword arms to Bearn in order to afford their food, clothing, swords, housing, and other necessities. The arrangement had suited both for a very long time.

Kedrin continued, "The king cannot risk offending all the countries of the Northlands en masse. We would no longer have a source for steel, no way to craft swords."

Iron ore had other uses, but Saviar realized his grandfather had chosen the only one that would matter to a Renshai.

"We might also spur war."

A light flashed through Thialnir's green eyes. "War," he said, almost reverently. "Bearn, Renshai, and their allies against the North." He smiled. "Why not? The West would no longer have to worry about ore once they owned all the mines."

Kedrin glanced at Saviar, as if for help. Saviar could think of nothing to say, so Kedrin continued speaking, "Two wars at once? Thousands would die."

"In glorious battle!" Thialnir half-rose from his seat in excitement.

Kedrin sighed, closed his eyes, shook his head. He started over. "The noblest aspiration for Renshai."

"Yes."

"But not for Bearnides."

"Pity."

Kedrin added, "And you must understand that the King of Bearn's job is to do what's right for Bearn. Not necessarily what's right for Renshai."

"And, surely, you must realize that I must do what's best for Renshai."

"Yes." Kedrin continued cautiously. "I'm just not sure you are."

That stopped Thialnir cold. His mouth became a stony line. His stare went icy, piercing.

Kedrin seized on the moment. "We spoke earlier of General Santagithi. According to history, he once faced a similar decision to King Griff's. Except, in his case, the Northmen demanded Rache Kallmirsson, the young Renshai who had been like a son to Santagithi and was now the captain of his army."

It was a part of the story Saviar had never heard.

Thialnir's scowl deepened. "I am not altogether unfamiliar with tales of Santagithi. Remember, his daughter and grandson became the parents of two of our three tribes."

Kedrin demonstrated his own knowledge of Renshai history. "The tribe of Rache stemmed from his grandson, Rache Garnsson, named for Rache Kallmirsson. And his daughter, Mitrian, was the mother of the tribe of Tannin."

Thialnir nodded gruffly. "And I don't recall any tales of Rache being surrendered to Northmen in the name of peace."

"Because he wasn't surrendered," Kedrin admitted. "Santagithi held off the Northern armies with carefully worded responses for as long as possible. Eventually, war became unavoidable."

Thialnir's full attention went back to Kedrin. "So, you're telling me that the greatest general of all time chose war over giving up his only Renshai." His eyes narrowed. "Aren't you making my point?"

"Maybe," Kedrin said. "Except that when Rache found out the underlying cause of the war, he rode North, intending to sacrifice himself for Santagithi and the others. In that case, the Renshai himself made the decision to allow his allies to live in the peace he knew they preferred rather than die for him. Now, I doubt he surrendered himself per se-"

Any Renshai would understand Rache's intention: to die in glorious combat taking as many Northmen as possible with him. Saviar got the point, but he wondered if Thialnir could. The Renshai had a duty, not only to their own people, but to their allies as well.

Thialnir sat in silence, head cocked to one side, clearly considering. He had come a long way in his many years on the Council. Initially, every situation was black or white, right or wrong. The Renshai solution was the only solution. Age had mellowed the old warrior to the point where he could consider nuances and politics, and he seemed more troubled than appreciative of his newfound diplomacy. His entire head turned suddenly to Saviar, and his gaze remained there.

Saviar forced himself to meet the intense green stare without flinching. He dared not show any fear.

When Thialnir finally spoke, he used the Renshai tongue, "Young Renshai, send the others away."

Though Thialnir spoke fluent Common Trading, Saviar acted as translator. "He wants to speak with me alone."

Kedrin and Chaveeshia rose immediately. Only Ra-khir hesitated, clearly worried for his son's welfare. Nevertheless, he did as Thialnir had bade and followed the others from the room.

While the others filed out, Saviar seized the opportunity to assure no sleeve or legging hampered his movements, that no furniture could impede the sudden draw of his sword.

As the door clicked shut, Thialnir's attention snapped directly onto Saviar.

Saviar's hand went instinctively to his hilt.

"So, you're the one supposed to beat sense into me, eh?" Thialnir ran his hands across the smooth surface of the table. "I'd have thought they'd use your brother."

Saviar told the truth. "It was my idea, sir." He met Thialnir's gaze levelly.

"Are you challenging me?"

"I'm prepared to, sir. If it becomes necessary."

The two stared at one another for several moments, neither giving ground. Thialnir's brows rose in slight increments until they nearly reached his hairline. "Saviar, what do you think of this whole situation?"

The last thing Saviar expected was for the violent, no-nonsense leader of the Renshai to ask his opinion. He stalled. "I think, sir…"

"Yes."

"… the whole situation…"

"Yes?"

"… is damned."

Thialnir chuckled. "Damned indeed, Saviar. What do you propose we do about it?"

Emboldened by his recent successes, Saviar spoke his mind. "I believe, sir, that the Renshai deserve consideration. We've remained loyal to Bearn for centuries, we've earned the right to respect, and we're an invaluable part of Western society with which no one should trifle."

Thialnir made a thoughtful noise that invited Saviar to continue.

"But our own gods chose King Griff as ruler on high of the Westlands, and I trust their judgment implicitly. Have you ever known the man to make an unfair or unreasonable decision?"

"I don't agree with everything he decides, Saviar, if that's what you mean."

Saviar leaned forward, still maintaining eye contact. "Unfair or unreasonable?"

Thialnir narrowed his green eyes nearly to slits. "So you think the Renshai should just stand by and accept whatever the king of Bearn decides."

"Oh, no."

"No?" Thialnir seemed taken aback. "So, what do you think?"

"I think," Saviar said, uncertain exactly what was about to come out of his mouth. "I think the Renshai have a right to demand certain things. For example, since Bearn breached the agreement, not us, we should continue to get paid. They should be able to afford it given that the Northmen aren't asking for any compensation, and Bearn should be able to barter losing Renshai assistance in the war against the price of iron ore."

Thialnir rolled his eyes, head shaking. "But it's not the money, Savi. It's the battle Renshai want." He waxed eloquent, light gleaming like emeralds in his eyes. "The exhilaration of the sword, the brilliant splash of blood, the chance to earn a place in Valhalla."

"I know that." Saviar tried to rein in growing impatience. "But that's not the negotiable part, unfortunately. So long as we're paid, concern for necessities need not distract us from our swordwork. And I think we also need to assure that the heirs of Bearn remain in our protection."

Thialnir was clearly listening.

"Removing us from that job would be the ultimate insult," Saviar realized as he spoke it. "To put lesser swordsmen in charge of protecting Bearn's most precious treasures." He shook his head angrily at the mere thought. "We cannot allow that."

"On that," Thialnir agreed. "We cannot compromise." He smiled. "You're a wise man, Saviar Ra-khirsson."

Saviar winced at the realization of what he had just done. "I'm not sure my father and grandfather would agree." He shrugged. "But they represent Bearn and Erythane, while we are always Renshai."

"Now, about that battle…" Thialnir rose. He was even more massive than Saviar remembered, a brick wall of a Renshai also endowed with lightning speed.

Nevertheless, Saviar leaped from his seat simultaneously. Show no fear.

"Are you actually challenging me?"

Saviar would have preferred to face a pack of starved dogs, but he gave no hint of his hesitation to Thialnir. "If necessary. I'm always up for a good row, sir. I just don't fancy the need to slay a great Renshai."

Thialnir grinned. It began with a chuckle that gained volume and timbre until it sprouted into a full-throated laugh.

Saviar saw nothing funny in the situation. "Are you laughing at me, Thialnir? Because, if you are, you leave me no choice."

Thialnir waved him off. "No, Savi, I'm not laughing at you. But the day a Renshai child defeats me is the day I commit taphreselmordat." The word literally translated to "brave suicide," the Renshai phrase for leaping into an unwinnable battle for the sole purpose of dying in glory for Valhalla rather than of illness or weakness.

Still gravely insulted, Saviar stood his ground. "I can defeat you, old man. My adulthood is assured next testing, and I am your worthy equal." He had spoken fighting words, and he expected an instant assault that did not come.

Instead, Thialnir considered the words, giving them a surprising amount of contemplation. Thialnir was better known for his swift and unstoppable attacks. "I am an old man, Saviar. I'm fifty-five, older than any Renshai need get, even in these accursed times of politics and peace."

Saviar felt a sudden pressure in his chest. He had triggered something unexpected. "Sir? With all due respect, you would not set any records for oldest living Renshai."

"Perhaps not." Thialnir retook his seat. "But age and too much 'affairs of state' have softened me. I want out. I'm tired of representing Renshai as a group. I want to go back to worrying about nothing but my sword arm."

Saviar stared. It seemed impossible that any Renshai adult would confide in him, especially about something so personal.

"Would you consider taking my place?"

Stunned, Saviar dropped back into his own seat. He had heard clearly but could only utter, "What?"

"Saviar Ra-khirsson, would you consider succeeding me as speaker for the Renshai?"

"But… but I'm not even a man yet."

"You just informed me you would definitely pass your next testing."

"Yes, but… I'm not even a… a full-blooded-"

Thialnir interrupted, anger tingeing his tone. "There is no such thing as half a Renshai. One either is or isn't, and you are."

Saviar knew the deal. Most offspring of Renshai and ganim were not considered Renshai at all. They had no right to any of the training. "Well, yes, but…"

"Do you know why we accepted you into the tribe, Saviar?"

Ra-khir never talked about it, but Tae had proven easier for the twins to crack. "You found my father worthy."

"Not exactly." Thialnir settled into his seat. Clearly, the battle Saviar had anticipated was not going to happen, and the young Renshai did not know whether to feel relieved or cheated. He did not relish the thought of more cuts and bruises or humiliation, yet he did want to test his sword arm against the great Thialnir.

"For a ganim, your father does have some competence with a sword. He is also courageous to a degree some would describe as insanity, a feature well appreciated by Renshai and one you demonstrate aptly. He's devoted, willing to commit to an ideal so strongly he will throw away his own life defending it. More importantly, to me at least, he could give the Renshai size without sacrificing quickness. If you managed to inherit your mother's agility and your father's strength, you would make a great asset indeed."

Saviar lowered his head. "Except I seem to have inherited my mother's strength and my father's quickness, as Calistin often says."

"Calistin," Thialnir said, "cannot see the buds for the roses."

It was the first negative word Saviar had ever heard uttered by a Renshai about Calistin.

Thialnir made another, wholly unexpected, pronouncement. "I was nearly twenty before I passed my tests of manhood."

"Really?" The word was startled from Saviar, one he never would have spoken had he time to think first.

"Men like us, Saviar. Men of speed and muscle, develop bulk first, then learn to work with and around it." Thialnir captured Saviar's gaze again. "In time, you will become like me. In time, Saviar, you will be one of the most formidable Renshai in history. And, I hope, you will lead the tribe."

It was the ultimate compliment. Saviar could do nothing but bask in it for several moments. Me? A formidable Renshai? Every young man believed himself destined for greatness, but few expected others to see it in them, especially others so respected. "Thank you, sir. Thank you so much."

Now, Thialnir frowned. "There is nothing to thank me for, young Renshai. I am simply stating what I see, what I saw in you even as an infant. I examined the set of your sinews, their attachments and arrangements. I knew then what you would become today, at least in physicality. You are very much like myself as a young man; and, since I have no offspring, it will be up to you to pass your strengths through the tribe."

Saviar flushed from the roots of his hair to his lantern chin. "Are you asking me to… to…?" He found himself too embarrassed to speak the words.

"I'm asking you to marry within the tribe. And to pick someone fertile, please."

For Renshai, this was not such an odd request. Their women worked as hard as their men and hurled themselves into the same dangers. Many never cycled at all. Those who did still often had difficulties conceiving, carrying, or delivering. "I'll try, sir," Saviar said, eager to abandon the topic. His father had become a young parent, but Saviar did not feel nearly ready for such an enormous responsibility. He deliberately changed the subject. "Don't you worry that if I succeed you, I might be influenced by the Knights of Erythane rather than strictly representing the best interests of the Renshai?"

It was a complicated question that deserved a complicated answer but got only, "Nope."

Saviar found himself, once again, speechless.

Luckily, Thialnir filled the void. "You've proved yourself a smart and honest young Renshai. I don't believe you would accept the position if you couldn't do it properly."

"But I-" Not knowing where he was going next, Saviar was relieved when Thialnir broke in.

"And I've worked with your grandfather long enough to know that his strict and damnable honor would never allow him to take advantage of his relationship with you. He might advise, but he would never push you in the wrong direction."

Abruptly, Saviar gained a new respect for Thialnir, not only as a warrior but as a diplomat. Renshai disdained strategy, yet Thialnir clearly had developed a talent for it. As rash in his youth as any Renshai, Thialnir would clearly not leave the Council unscathed. Time and exposure had added sophistication to his speech as well as his actions. Thialnir was not the same Renshai that he'd been when he had agreed to represent the Renshai on the High King's Council. How much will it change me? Yet, Saviar realized something important. He was different from the other Renshai. He loved his swordwork as much as any, but he also wanted something more, the knighthood, for example. Or, perhaps, a chance to help steer the course of Renshai history. Could this be the plan the gods have always had for me?

"So." Thialnir propped his enormous elbows on the table. "Will you become my apprentice?"

It was exactly like a Renshai to expect immediate results, an impulsive answer to a lead-heavy question. "Please, Thialnir, sir. I need some time to think about it."

"Very well." Thialnir took the nonresponse in stride. "Will you, at least, accompany me to the Council meeting tomorrow?"

For the second time in two days, Saviar found himself invited to a meeting his father would prefer he not attend. Clearly, it's fated. "Of course," he promised. "I would be delighted."

Thialnir snorted with just a hint of smile. "Saviar, you're the only Renshai who would be."