Kedrin saluted Saviar, bowed to his king, then dismounted. Leaving the charger to his own devices, Kedrin came to Saviar's side, then followed him past the gathering, through a small field, and into the shade of the first row of cottages. There, Saviar loosed a pent-up breath but dared not drop all pretenses. Kedrin was on duty.
Upending an empty rain barrel, Saviar sat.
Kedrin settled onto a low wall of rock surrounding a small garden. "Would you like some help making sense of that document?"
"I would," Saviar said. "I'll get the gist of it, I think. I'd just like to be sure I don't lock us into something I don't understand." There was more to Saviar's concern. He wanted the chance to read the words in a hush that allowed him to absorb and make sense of them, but he also worried about misunderstanding. He could never forgive himself if he comprehended every word and still advised a course of action that endangered the tribe. Unable to continue in this manner, he finally dropped pretenses. "What's this all about?"
Kedrin studied Saviar without a hint of emotion. "Are you asking me as a representative of the Renshai? Or as my grandson?"
Saviar attempted to consider the question, but found himself too inexperienced to know which one he wanted. "Which will give me the most direct answers?"
"Grandson."
Saviar made a straight line gesture. "Speak frankly, Grandpapa."
Kedrin attempted a smile, though it came out tired and lopsided. "I've read the whole thing, Saviar, even helped draft portions of it to keep it fair."
Saviar unrolled the next paragraph, bobbing his head. It made sense that the king would employ the Knights of Erythane to keep the matter impartial and the contract binding. He read the next several paragraphs in silence. "The Northmen want to battle us? In single combat."
"One to one," Kedrin confirmed.
Saviar continued reading. Despite the excessive verbiage, he believed he teased out all the salient points. "If the Renshai win, we get back our ancient homeland in the North: Renshi." For once, the words on the document seemed too simplistic for what they described. Hundreds of years ago, Renshi had become divvied up among the neighboring tribes, and Saviar wondered how anyone could still recall the ancient borders. At the time of the Great Banishment, the North had consisted of seventeen tribes. Now, there were only nine. Even if they could redefine Renshi, it meant displacing the Gjar, Blathe, and Shamirins who currently resided there.
Kedrin anticipated the question, "Historians and mapmakers spent a long time defining the proper location. The Northern captain, Erik Leifsson, does have the dispensation of the high king in Nordmir to endorse the agreement."
Verdondi's father. Saviar could not help smiling. It had to have caught the young man by surprise to find his sparring partner, the son of a knight, was also a budding leader of Renshai.
Kedrin folded his arms across his chest. "Assuming they won, the Renshai would also keep the Fields of Wrath in Erythane. The Paradisians have agreed to fully surrender their claim to the land in that circumstance."
Saviar bobbed his head thoughtfully. Thialnir might see the gestures as immeasurably small.The Paradisians had no legitimate claim to the Fields of Wrath anyway, and the Renshai could take back Renshi by force if necessary. Still, Saviar could see the significance of these places to the Northmen. Sacrificing the land up North meant acknowledging the Renshai as one of them, a real tribe with an actual right to existence. Giving up the battle of the so-called Paradisians would force them to stop fueling the prejudice growing rampant in the Western world.
Saviar went back to the scroll to discover the penalty for a Renshai loss. Not surprisingly, it called for the Renshai to give up the Fields of Wrath and become exiles not only from the Northlands, but from the West as well. The rest involved assuring the compulsory nature of the contract, the conditions necessary to render it, and the proper signatories, with their endorsers described.
"Do you need me to explain anything more?" Kedrin prompted.
Only then, Saviar realized he had sat in silence for quite a long time. "No." He met the sea-foam eyes. "Grandpapa, what should I do?"
"You should discuss the details with Thialnir." Though true, the answer gave Saviar nothing. He tried to read the emotions hidden behind his grandfather's blank expression, without success.
Saviar sighed. "I mean, what should I do about the contract? Should we accept it? Decline it? Burn it at their feet?"
"That," Kedrin said, "is entirely up to the leaders of the Renshai."
Leaders? Plural? "Of which I am one?"
"Yes.You and Thialnir."
Suddenly, Saviar understood Ra-khir's lament about Kedrin and his riddles. "What would you do in my place?"
Kedrin rose and put an arm across his grandson's shoulders. "Saviar, I can't make this decision for you."
"Of course not." Saviar shook off Kedrin's touch, growing irritated. "But you can advise me. What would you do in my place?"
Now Kedrin sighed. He lowered his arm awkwardly, as if uncertain where to place it. "If I were you, Saviar, I'd be Renshai. I'm not. I can't take any responsibility for a group of people I can't possibly fully understand."
"You understand the politics. Things Thialnir can't… won't…"
"Give Thialnir some credit for experience," Kedrin said softly. "Do not underestimate his knowledge or his intelligence."
Thialnir was known for neither, rather for abruptness in everything, including decisions. "But-"
"And, I believe you understand the politics every bit as much as I do, Saviar. Perhaps more."
No longer confused, Saviar trembled with building anger. "Let me speak with Papa, instead."
"Sir Ra-khir will not make this decision for you, either."
Saviar spoke through gritted teeth. "Perhaps Sir Ra-khir would like to speak for himself."
"Not necessary." Kedrin tipped his head. "Sir Ra-khir is a Knight of Erythane, and I am his superior. In situations such as this, we're both sworn to objectivity."
Rage warmed Saviar's blood momentarily, then disappeared. He no longer wanted to punch his grandfather, only to cry and beg for his help. He did none of those things, though tears stung his eyes. "Please. I don't know what to do, what to say. Thialnir takes my suggestions very seriously."
"As he should." Kedrin remained maddeningly unhelpful. "I will send him over." He headed back toward the gathering.
As his grandfather walked away, Saviar found himself trembling, assaulted by uncertainty, by fear, by loathing at once. A tear slipped from his eye, and he wiped it away fiercely. He dared not let Thialnir catch him weeping. He concentrated on the details of the contract, rewording it as clearly as possible in his head, blocking out the emotions the issues raised. By the time Thialnir arrived, he knew exactly what he wished to say.
Saviar launched into the short version of the venture: the proposed one-on-one combat so like the one that had allowed the Renshai to claim Devil's Island in the North long after their initial banishment; the rewards in plain language without the attendant baggage; and the consequences of failure. He had only just taken a breath to explain the underlying politics when Thialnir raised his giant hand.
"The Renshai have been challenged, and we will fight."
To the great leader of the Renshai, it was all that obvious, that simple.
Saviar opened his mouth, even as he realized there was no sense in arguing the point. Thialnir saw the whole thing in black and white: fight equals courage, refusing meant cowardice. No long-winded explanation would change Thialnir's mind, so Saviar salvaged the situation the only way he could. "At least, sir, let's add some safeguards to the contract. Define the end point of the battle, for example. Death or first blood?"
"Death. One less scheming Northman."
"When and where should it occur? What constitutes a fair battle? How should we handle noncombatant interference?"
Thialnir approached each question, only to have Saviar cut him off with the next one. To the youth, they were merely examples
for future discussion.
As Saviar paused for breath, Thialnir addressed the final question first, "The last one-on-one Northman Renshai battle I know of suffered from exactly that interference."
Saviar knew his Renshai history. "Colbey versus the Slayer."
"Valr Kirin," Thialnir filled in the name. "Valr" meant Slayer, a nickname for the North's greatest warrior at the time. "Kirin's son leaped to his father's defense and wound up getting him killed instead."
Saviar stuck with the salient point, "And some Northmen used that as an excuse not to honor the contract."
"Good point." Thialnir patted Saviar's shoulder, a touch he accepted as he had not his grandfather's. "We will have it entered that any interference in the battle voids the contract."
It sounded wise, until Saviar considered further. The clause, used wrongly, could just as easily become a means for the Northmen to cheat. "Except, let's say the Northman is losing-"
"A certainty." Thialnir bobbed his enormous, graying head. "If some cowardly Northman shot our Renshai in the back, the end result would not count."
Saviar did not allow himself to get distracted from his new point. "-so a noncombatant deliberately kills the Northman for the sole purpose of voiding the contract. That would give them leave to enter a fresh, new contestant against our tired one. They could keep doing that until they got the upper hand."
Thialnir snorted. "Except, they would never get the upper hand. The worst of our men could slaughter the best of theirs three times over."
"True." Saviar would not argue things that did not matter. "But four times over? Five? At some point, even a Renshai gets overwhelmed."
Thialnir grunted something incoherent but finally conceded. "What if we say it's only enemy interference that voids the contract? That way, if the Northmen shoot down our warrior, it's a disqualification. If they kill their own warrior, they simply lose."
Saviar could not see any flaws in Thialnir's new argument. He nodded. At least now they had an answer to the challenge. All that remained was hashing out the final details. Though glad to have the decision out of his hands, Saviar worried about the situation. Win or lose, the lives of the Renshai would change spectacularly. He only hoped it would prove for the better.
CHAPTER 15
Because Kevral is Renshai, she will do as she pleases and suffer the consequences gladly
. -King Griff of Bearn
The day of the battle dawned in dreary solemnity. Rope-wrapped stakes squared off the battlefield on the Fields of Wrath, and Knights of Erythane patrolled around them, keeping the crowd in check. Surprised by the sheer number of spectators, Saviar stood on the outskirts of the gathered nobility, Northmen, and Renshai, glad Thialnir seemed comfortable handling the final details without him.
Though he noticed someone approaching to his right, Saviar did not bother to acknowledge it. He hoped the other would realize he had no patience for idle conversation.
"Why didn't you tell me you were Renshai?"
Saviar stiffened, then turned slowly to face Verdondi. He flushed, dodging the quick blue eyes. "You… you didn't ask." It was a feeble argument, and he knew it. He had never expected the information to come out this way. Timing is everything. Kedrin had said, and Saviar knew he should have told the truth a long time ago.
"Who would think to ask a young man in the practice area of Bearn Castle such a question?"
Saviar bit his lip, too guilty to laugh. Anyone who knew King Griff hired Renshai to guard his heirs would expect them in the practice area as often as possible.
"You said you were the son of a Knight of Erythane."
"I am."
"A Knight and also a Renshai?"
"My mother…" Saviar finally met the young Northman's gaze. "… is Renshai."
Verdondi's nostrils flared. "Oh."
"Yes, 'oh.' " Saviar started to turn his attention back to the proceedings, but Verdondi was not yet ready.
"You still should have told me."
"You're right," Saviar admitted, "I should have. But my father and grandfather would not have tolerated bloodshed in Bearn Castle."
Verdondi's brows arched higher. "Bloodshed? I-" His lids abruptly fell from abnormally wide to squintingly narrow. "I get it. You think far too little of me." He grunted out an irritated sigh. "I deserve better."
"I'm sorry." Saviar made a little bow. "I should not have assumed." Believing the conversation finished, he glanced out over the crowd, sifting Renshai from the vast array of Erythanians. Even a few Bearnides had made the trip, their enormous physiques and shaggy dark heads towering over most of the others.
"Who's your champion?"
Saviar continued to study the crowd as he answered, "My baby brother, Calistin."
"Your baby brother?" Verdondi seemed shocked by the answer. "I know Renshai look younger, but just how old-"
Saviar did not bother to wait for the end of the question. "He's eighteen. I'm nineteen, as of today."
"Your champion is only eighteen?"
Saviar nodded.
"And you look reasonably close to your… real age."
"I do."
"So not all Renshai-?"
"I favor my father's side of the family," Saviar interrupted swiftly. He did not want to get into an argument over rumors; Verdondi might actually believe they slaughtered infants and performed foul rites with the blood to keep their youth. "But Calistin seems to carry more of our mother's bloodline. To me, he seems about… six."
Verdondi swallowed hard. "He… looks… that young?"
"Looks?" Saviar finally studied his companion. "No, he looks-I don't know-thirteen, fourteen. He just acts six."
Verdondi laughed, and even Saviar managed a smile. He had no fear for his brother. No swordsman in any part of the world could possibly best Calistin.
The young Northman sobered quickly. "Look, Saviar. I ought to warn you.Your baby brother may be in trouble."
Saviar made a throwaway gesture. "Don't worry about Calistin. He could handle three armies, if he had to; and he'd be the first to tell you he could."
Verdondi cleared his throat cautiously. "It will take more than confidence to kill Valr Magnus."
Though he had never heard it before, the name sent a chill through Saviar. Northmen did not idly bestow the nickname of their centuries-famous hero, Valr. Magnus implied magnificent, the best. Though not uncommon as a name or piece of a name, Magnus had never, to Saviar's knowledge, accompanied the word, "Slayer."To the Northmen, this warrior was special.
Verdondi explained, "He showed such great natural prowess as a child, he has never had to do anything other than swordwork. He's not expected to hunt, book-learn, or assist with any chore. He is the sword, and the sword is him. No one can beat him."
A dark sense of foreboding clutched Saviar's chest, quickly dispelled by reason. Calistin had a similar history in a culture that initiated swordplay in infancy, where every moment of every day allowed for a spar or lesson, and he had regular opponents who could challenge him. Calistin also knew the Renshai maneuvers, to which this Valr had no access. Saviar could not imagine any man quicker or more capable than his brother. "Calistin can. And will."
The conversation put Verdondi in a precarious position. If he stated the usual platitude, "I hope so," it meant standing against his own father and people. To state otherwise, however, meant wishing death and grief upon Saviar's family.
A sudden shout rescued Verdondi. Saviar's attention shifted suddenly to the battlegrounds, where Calistin, Thialnir, and two Northmen waved their arms around in obvious disagreement.
"Excuse me." Saviar rushed toward the ruckus without waiting to see if Verdondi had granted his pardon. He drew up just as King Humfreet, Knight-Captain Kedrin, and two other knights arrived on the scene.
"What seems to be the trouble?" the aging king demanded.
Saviar quietly took a position beside Thialnir, trying for discretion. If no one noticed him, concerns about his identity and status, whether or not he
belonged in this exalted group, would not arise.
If anyone noticed Saviar, they gave no sign. The two Northmen bowed to the king before one responded to the question. "Your Majesty, we are only trying to keep the proceedings fair."
Thialnir snorted.
Kedrin's jaw tightened, but he did not reprimand the Renshai. Saviar knew his grandfather had grown accustomed to Thialnir's blatant disregard of royal convention from Bearn's Council. Still, the king of Erythane was more traditional in his requirements.
Ignoring Thialnir, the Northman who had spoken continued, while the other bowed repeatedly. "Your Majesty, we all agreed on a fair battle, yet it is well-known that Renshai do nothing other than train for murder."
"Combat," Thialnir corrected.
"Combat, then," the Northman accepted Thialnir's word politely, though the lines around his mouth tightened. "And even a mediocre Renshai can take on the best three warriors of any other people."
"So?" Thialnir interrupted gruffly again. "Of what purpose is this fact? They called the challenge."
The other Northman stopped bowing long enough to speak. "Your Majesty, please. We all agreed to fair combat."
Saviar tugged discretely at Thialnir's tunic, trying to get his attention. The Northmen played a crafty game, attempting to look all innocence when they knew their champion spent as much time honing his craft as any Renshai.
Intent on the Northmen, Thialnir seemed oblivious to Saviar.
"Well," King Humfreet said, fingering his graying beard with clear thoughtfulness. " 'Fair' does imply no obvious outcome, does it not, Knight-Captain?"
Directly addressed, Kedrin executed a grand gesture of respect. "Well, Sire, I suppose it could be interpreted in that-"
"This is insanity!" Calistin demonstrated none of his grandfather's pretty manners. "My mother could trounce the best warrior the Northmen have."
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