Saviar flushed, feeling foolish. At the time, it had seemed inappropriate, his father's desperate attempt to use his status to save his sons from the fate of their comrades. Now, it might well save their lives. "We're not actually banished."
Subikahn's eyes seemed to bulge from his face. "What?"
"Papa negotiated some sort of deal because we're only half-Renshai and our only living relatives, our fathers, are not…"
"… Renshai." Subikahn finished. "So, I'm only really exiled from the East."
"Yes."
"And you called me an idiot for not going with you there."
"I apologized."
Subikahn whirled back the way he had been going, though he did not take another step. "So we don't need to blither around in secret."
Thialnir's words remained strong in Saviar's mind. "Well, I'm not sure it's wise to investigate openly. I really don't feel like explaining our situation to every passerby who wants to report us, and I'm sure the agreement at least implied a certain amount of discretion on the part of us and my father."
"So, we shouldn't go around slaughtering in the name of the Renshai."
"That's really not funny." An idea wound its way into Saviar's mind, and he spoke it aloud before he could consider it fully, "While we're investigating, maybe we could do… good deeds?"
Subikahn cocked his head. "Good deeds? You mean, like Knights of Erythane."
It was not exactly what Saviar had in mind. "All right. Like knights."
"Help people with broken equipment or injured animals?"
"Yes."
"Fight off brigands and bandits?"
"Sure."
"Rescue damsels in distress?"
Saviar smiled. "My personal favorite."
"Just out of the kindness of our big, fluffy hearts."
"Well," Saviar admitted. "I do actually have a motive." He looked directly at his twin, hoping Subikahn would understand and not think him crazy. "We wait until the populace loves us. Only then, we reveal that we're Renshai."
"Why?"
"Because." Finally forced to consider, Saviar hesitated. "Because it will make us feel good, and it will force people to reevaluate their knee-jerk hatred for all things Renshai."
Apparently, Subikahn actually considered the proposal, and his answer became more important to Saviar than he ever would have guessed.
Please think it through. Please don't be facetious. The silence that followed was the longest of Saviar's life.
"That's actually not a bad idea…" Subikahn could not help adding, "… for an obnoxious, but not lumbering, bastard."
He said it with such a broad grin, with such obvious love, that Saviar found it impossible to take offense. For the first time in months, Saviar felt happy, complete, and also tired and hungry. "I need to eat," he announced. "And sleep."
Subikahn dropped to the ground. "I thought you'd never ask."
CHAPTER 21
If everyone knew how others would react to what they do, things might go smoother. But they'd be really REALLY boring.
-Mior
The dungeon corridors stank of mold, urine, and long unwashed flesh so rank it became physically painful to Tae's nose. Keyed to the location of every prisoner, he slunk through the confines unseen, except for the guards, who followed orders to ignore him. Finally, he came to the proper wall that would allow him to listen without being seen and waited for the group of guards and interpreters to step into place.
Soon, they arrived, a motley contingent of massive, uniformed Bearnides with weapons, accompanied by a thin, sandy-haired Erythanian, a portly balding Westerner, and an elderly woman who walked with a cane. As they stepped into place in front of the cell of the captured pirate, Tae gestured to them to proceed.
"We brought some visitors," one of the guards explained in a booming voice. He spoke slowly and distinctly. "We're just trying to find out if you need anything." He waved at the woman, who stepped forward next.
Leaning on the cane, she spoke in careful Northern, the singsong syllables emerging graveled by age. "Can you understand me? Please acknowledge if you can. We only want to make your stay more pleasant."
Tae could not see the prisoner's reaction, but he heard a shuffle of movement and no reply.
The thin man spoke next, his voice as reedy as his figure. "Can you understand me?" He used one of the many Western tongues; all so similar to Tae that he thought of them as simple dialects of the same language. "Can you understand me?" he said in another.
When he reached his fifth, the prisoner finally responded with a few words of his own. Tae focused firmly on the sounds, tone, and timbre. It had to contain frustration, perhaps contempt; it would help to see the gestures that accompanied the words. Despite most beliefs otherwise, there were no unfailingly universal gestures; but emotion was still readable in the force and boldness of them. Tae found facial cues far more reliable and cursed his need to remain hidden, even though he had insisted upon it.
Everyone in the translation party turned to look at Tae as if to ask if he had heard enough.
Tae would have liked more, but their obvious concentration on him jeopardized any future plans. Once the pirate knew of his presence and talent, getting information would move from difficult to impossible. He shook his head, waved dismissively, and headed back out of the prison, without waiting to see what the others did.
Several guards and a snarl of cats met him at the exit. The men clearly wanted to ask him what he had learned, but they remained silent. They knew better than to upstage the king.
Tae did not say anything. He needed to consider his strategy and his words carefully before they rushed him to his meeting with King Griff, Queen Matrinka, and whichever trusted guards and advisers they chose.
Plaintive mewing accompanied them as they hurried down flights of spiral stairs and through long hallways. Then, something hooked the hem of Tae's tunic. Still moving amid the clot of guards, he looked down as a cat clawed its way up his side, gouging fabric and flesh alike.
Tae reached down, snagged Imorelda, and placed her on his shoulders. She stretched out around the back of his neck.
A guard reached for her. "Sorry, Sire. Usually, they're not that bold."
Imorelda slashed a pawful of nails at the man's hand.
Anticipating the attack, Tae lurched, forcing Imorelda to tend to her own balance instead. The unsheathed claws pierced his shoulder like needles. "Leave her," he gasped. "This one's mine."
"Yes, Sire." The man retreated. *Ease up!*
Imorelda obeyed, though not without protest.*Walk more carefully, and I won't have to do that.*
Tae knew better than to argue with a female or a cat.*Of course. It's all my fault.*
The guards paused, while the leader knocked briskly on a door.
It opened almost immediately to reveal a small room that contained only four people and a table surrounded by chairs. Tae knew everyone inside: the king and queen of Bearn, Darris the bard, and Rantire, Griff's fierce Renshai bodyguard. Matrinka and Griff gave Tae acknowledging nods, while Darris bowed decorously and Rantire only stared with aggression.
Tae waited until his escort left, closing the door, before speaking. "Ah, so one Renshai remains in the West."
Clearly addressed, Rantire did not seek permission from her liege before speaking. "Vows to gods take precedent over any human decree."
Tae could not argue. Colbey's son, Ravn, had bestowed the job of Griff's guardian on the Renshai, and her loyalty was total and unwavering. It was also obsessive and annoying.
Matrinka asked the question on every mind, "So, were you able to understand him?"
Clearly mortified by his guardian and his wife, Griff offered their guest a seat. "Please, make yourself comfortable."
Tae did not worry about politeness or formality, but he did appreciate the delay. Choosing the nearest chair, he sat, and the others did the same. "I didn't," he admitted.
Matrinka sagged. "It's hopeless, then?"
Tae explained, "He's not speaking any known language of our world." Imorelda clambered gingerly from his shoulders into his brand-new lap.
Griff leaned forward, "Are you sure?"
Tae nodded, stroking the animal absently.
"Because," the king continued carefully, "there are several languages. And maybe you've just never heard…"
Tae remained silent, allowing the king to finish his thought; but, as Griff trailed off and clearly awaited an answer, Tae explained. "I speak all ten of the major languages, Griff. Even ancient barbarian. Even elfin, though not necessarily with great fluency. Anything else is simply a dialect, and I can figure it out quickly. Now, I only heard a few words, but this… this was… different."
They all went silent, waiting for him to explain.
Tae had nothing more to say. Five or six words, spoken by one individual, was not enough to make pronouncements.
"So," Matrinka broke the silence. "You're saying these pirates come from another world?"
Tae shrugged. He did not feel competent to make a statement of such significance, but it seemed like the only logical answer. *They do, don't they?* *If I knew, Imorelda, I would tell my friends.*
Darris opened his mouth, then closed it with a sigh. He rose and started pacing, the Renshai watching him through slitted eyes.
Tae understood his discomfort. The bard wished to speak but remained constrained by the curse.
Griff clearly also noticed his bard's distress. "If you need to sing something, Darris, feel free. We would all love to hear it."
Darris nodded. He did not carry an instrument with him, nor did he need one. Tae had long ago noticed he mostly resorted to it when performing or when trying to evoke emotions. In a pinch, Darris had no trouble performing a cappella, his songs fashioned on the spot, though his rhyme scheme lacked the richness and beauty of the songs he inherited or deliberately wrote. The bard cleared his throat and cringed apologetically: To bring Outworld enemies would require An angry god all wreathed in fire, Or strong jovinay arythanik: Combined magic of elves, none of whom could panic. For magic is needed to open the portals, A deed that could never be done by mere mortals. Yet neither gods nor elves have suggested That humankind must be divested. But in the Sage's tower high, I found the tale of an armory by The enormous city we know as Pudar, Three centuries past, or about that far. As he prepared for the Great War, King Sterrane's friend, Garn, he took a tour, And tried a weapon bigger than he From a warrior 'cross the Western Sea. Who came, they said, when the world was young, A giant of a man who left no crumb But that massive sword too heavy for man. Perhaps his descendants have come to our land?
As Darris finished the last note, he looked askance at his companions. Clearly, he sought answers to his question, not praise for his song; which, despite his phenomenal voice and perfect pitch, was notably clumsy.
Tae considered the information in thoughtful silence. He had known that bringing in humans or creatures of parallel worlds required the magic inherent in a portal. He and his companions had traveled through several as they pieced together the ancient, broken Pica Stone that now tested the heirs to Bearn's throne. Each opening had required a massive number of elves working their magic together. It could never occur by accident. Tae had to concede and broke the silence, "Surely, if gods or elves intended to destroy us, they would open a portal to a world with man-eating monsters rather than simply subject us to an endless sea battle."
Imorelda batted Tae's hand but said nothing.
"Well," Matrinka added. "Griff, Darris, and I discussed this before; and I've given it some thought. If I had to choose between gods and elves, I'd have to guess the latter. If the gods wanted us gone, they could simply… um… unmake us, right? Slam us with fire or floods, famine or lightning, and they wouldn't need to open a portal." She glanced around the group. "Right?"
Darris turned his gaze directly on Tae. Clearly, he wanted to say something but hoped his Eastern friend would obviate the need for more singing.
Imorelda stood up in Tae's lap, planting her paws on the edge of the table.*The gods do things that don't make sense sometimes.*
Tae softened the words, "The gods aren't always predictable. Still, Matrinka makes a good argument. It doesn't do them any good to punish us if we don't know we're being punished or why."
Darris' head bobbed sideways. Apparently, he felt Tae had made an interesting point, but not the one he was hoping for.
Tae tried again. "I don't think it's elves either. They chose to go off on their own, to leave Bearn. They know they're welcome to return at any time. If they had a grievance, they would bring it to you." He jerked his head toward King Griff. "Wouldn't they?"
Griff bobbed his shaggy head. "Tem'aree'ay visits them regularly. She tells me they're happy." He laced his fingers through his beard. "As I recall, when the first pirating incidents happened, the elves were still here. We would have known."
"Unless it happened accidentally." Tae scratched behind Imorelda's ears, and she raised her head high to expose her throat, practically driving her head against his moving fingers. "While they were opening portals for us to gather the Pica shards."
Murmurs swept the room. It seemed the most logical answer.
"Or," Matrinka added, "they come from across the ocean, like Darris surmised."
"A giant of a man," Tae quoted. "With a sword so big most men couldn't lift it. Are these pirates enormous?"
Again, Darris tipped his head from side to side, indicating "yes" and "no" simultaneously.
Griff explained. "Well, no. Not most of them. But my men report more than the normal number of impressively-sized warriors, and we have captured a few weapons that befuddle our strongest."
"Big?" Tae tried to clarify.
"Huge," Griff confirmed. "A few. But most are normal-sized. Impressively well-tempered and forged, too. Early on, many Renshai were happily taking enemy swords in lieu of payment."
Matrinka's eyes widened at a fact she clearly had not heard before. "And you know how picky Renshai are."
Imorelda made a noise distinctly like a sneeze.*Not too picky, apparently. One made a baby with the likes of you.*
Tae ignored the insult.*She means about their swords.* *So they're more careful with their swords than their children?* *Renshai?Yes.* *Sounds about right.* Imorelda curled back into Tae's lap.*Nasty things.* *Renshai? Or swords?* *Children.*
Tae disengaged to ask Bearn's king, "I presume you still have some of these weapons? Their make-?"
"Our best experts couldn't identify the workmanship, though they were most impressed by it. We reused as many as we could. The ones too damaged or large, we melted down and recast." Griff sighed. "Iron ore shortage, you know."
"I know." Tae did not wish to discuss trade issues now. The East still had a reasonable amount, but its price had tripled because of the West's shortage. Only the North still had a strong, steady supply. "It's common, though, for armies to see the other side as having a greater percentage of larger men."
When no one said anything, Tae continued.
"Just as it's customary for enemies to multiply during battle. You know, a few dozen men seems like a hundred when you're fighting for your life. And a hundred men seems more like ten thousand."
"Yes," Darris finally spoke again. "But these are Bearnides."
Tae glanced at the king and queen, and he got the point. Matrinka had sported a whale-boned frame even before she carried the extra childbirth weight, and Griff had always looked more like a bear than a human. Tae chuckled. "Yes, I suppose when Bearnides start reporting an unusually large number of huge warriors, it's probably not exaggeration." Though he enjoyed the conversation with his old friends, it seemed pointless to continue in this vein. "So, we seem to have established that the enemy comes from beyond our known boundaries, likely from beyond the Western Sea. What next?"
"I don't know," Griff hung his leonine head. "I thought if only we could communicate, we might parley. Or, at least, learn what to expect. Right now, w
e're fighting this war blind. We don't even know what they're after." He shook his head. "But if you can't talk to them…"
Tae allowed his brows to creep steadily upward. "Who said I can't talk to them?"
All eyes jerked instantly to the Eastern king, who remained utterly composed, more from habit than intention.
"Eventually," Tae added, the plan he had considered on his walk taking a more solid form in his mind. "Given the right circumstances."
"Go on." Darris leaned far forward in his chair, excitement lighting up his hazel eyes.
Tae kept his attention on Griff. "Didn't you tell me you managed to capture a second man?"
"Two days ago.Yes."
"Can you put the two together? In the same cell?"
Griff's head started to shake, slowly at first, then with more force. "Tae, the reason it took us so long to take prisoners is because these enemies fight to their last breath. When things look hopeless for any one of them, they choose death over capture. In fact, several took the lives of companions and their own rather than surrender."
Though not directly spoken, Griff's issue became clear to Tae. "It's hard to kill yourself alone without sharp or heavy objects."
"It is impossible," Griff finished, "to strangle yourself with your bare hands."
That made conjoining cells unworkable as well, since one could reach through the bars, and the other, presumably, would allow it. "So," Tae continued, "you could put them in the same area, so long as there was one entire cell between them."
Griff nodded, clearly waiting for Tae to explain.
"They could talk freely. And, if some ratty little thief got put in the cell between them…"
"No!" Matrinka leaped to her feet. "I'm not letting you lock yourself in that filthy, disgusting place."
Rantire started laughing, the sound startlingly loud and out of place given the intensity of the discussion. "Your Majesty," she managed between guffaws. "You just called-the king of the Eastlands-a ratty little-"
Matrinka would have none of it. "I didn't call him that. He called himself that."
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