Apparently misunderstanding Magnus' concern, Captain Sivaird nodded. "There's a unit led by one of the Knights of Erythane, sir."
"Yes." Magnus knew what his captain wanted to say. "Commanded by Sir Ra-khir, who, I understand, once had the audacity to declare war on the entire kingdom of Pudar. Single-handed." He grinned at the thought, the savage courage it must have taken, and could not help feeling impressed.
"Our scouts say his band of outcasts includes a fair number of blonds who aren't Northmen, and as many women as men."
Magnus glared at his captain. "So, we're using scouts now to spy on our own army?"
Sivaird could not have looked more shocked if Magnus had asked him to transform into a kitten."Well, sir… I…" He flushed."There isn't much else for them to do, sir. And they're not exactly our 'own army,' sir. They're-"
"Renshai," Magnus finished. "Yes. All the generals already knew it."
The surprise remained indelibly etched on the captain's face. "But, sir. Don't the generals… I mean, shouldn't we…"
"Shouldn't we what, Captain? Fight amongst ourselves before we take on the enemy?"
"No, sir. But-"
"Ban some of the most competent swordsmen?" Magnus remained relentless. "Perhaps, if we do it right, we can drive them to the bosom of our enemy so we will have to fight pirates and Renshai simultaneously."
The captain seemed about to let the matter drop. Then, suddenly, he flexed his fingers and stiffened his jaw in clear resolve. "Sir, respectfully, should we allow demons to battle among us? Animals, perhaps? Bogeymen?"
General Magnus smiled. "If they're fighting on our side against a common enemy, why not? Perhaps bogeymen have necessary skills we don't possess. As to animals, even our own army has cavalry. We can always battle the demons after the war is over."
"Weakened and bloody."
Magnus made a throwaway gesture. "If necessary, yes. And remember, they're getting weakened and bloody alongside us. Better to fight a strong enemy together and a weak one afterward than to fight both at once at the top of their strength."
Captain Sivaird nodded. "I suppose you're right, sir, as always. But it feels so wrong to throw our lot in with…" He practically spat as he spoke the next word, "… Renshai, even temporarily."
"War can make for strange allies."
"Strange allies," Sivaird repeated, most thoughtfully. "General, sir. That reminds me of another concern."
Magnus gave his captain his full attention, though he knew what had to come next.
"Captain Alsmir is having trouble with those two younglings you picked up in the bar in Aerin."
Having heard exactly what he expected, Valr Magnus nodded.
"The younger one's clearly never been trained. We had to give him a weapon, then we took it back. He's more dangerous with it to himself, and to us, than to the enemy. Sir, to be utterly frank, he has the courage of a lion and the fighting ability of a turtle."
"A dangerous combination," Magnus had to admit. "I know the older one can fight."
"Judging from his sword forms, competently. But he's sullen, irritable, and oppositional."
"You mean, he's an adolescent."
"An adolescent who could do with a few solid spankings."
Magnus laughed. "I dare you. He'd sever your hands before they reached his bottom."
Captain Sivaird's look became one of outrage. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I've been watching him, too. And you've gravely underestimated his skill." Something I can't afford to do.
The captain grunted. "With all respect, sir, maybe you're underestimating my skill."
Magnus had not meant to offend his loyal captain. "You have many skills, Captain, and I appreciate all of them."
Sivaird bowed his head, silently acknowledging the compliment.
"But this boy's swordsmanship is peerless. I accepted him into my ranks even though he stated outright that he would follow orders only if they suited him."
Sivaird's brows whisked upward, and he opened his mouth; but no words emerged. "One such as that is very dangerous, sir. Not just for himself, but for every one around him."
"Yes." No one had to remind Valr Magnus of that fact. "Better in my command than another's, though, yes?"
Sivaird's frown suggested he did not agree, though his words spoke otherwise. "Yes, sir. If he turns coat, no one's better suited to bring him down, sir. But, his insolence does undermine Captain Alsmir's command."
"Then tell Alsmir not to command him. Tell the captain to leave the young man utterly and completely to me."
Captain Sivaird saluted. "It would be my pleasure."
Alsmir's, too, Magnus guessed. He sighed, feeling most sorry for Sir Ra-khir. One Renshai was bad enough. What must it be like to command… to attempt to command… hundreds?
CHAPTER 44
War is the only proper school of the healer
. -Anonymous
Saviar had no difficulty finding his father's white charger, a beacon amidst the milling infantries on Bearn's southern beachfront. For the first time, it bothered him that the Knights of Erythane had chosen such a garish symbol of leadership. It made them easy to recognize among the peasantry, but it also branded his father the obvious target for every missile and sword.
As the three walked along the beach, struggling through scraggly weeds and clambering over heaps and dunes, it soon became clear that Ra-khir studied them as well. Silver Warrior faced in their direction. One of the knight's gloved hands sat squarely on his forehead, shading his eyes from the reflected glare. He clambered down from the horse long before details became clear. He could not yet have recognized their features, but he already seemed to know that he needed to greet these newcomers, that they headed toward his unit.
Apparently, Subikahn also noticed. "He knows it's us."
"You think so?" Saviar tightened his grip on Chymmerlee's hand to help her slog through a loose pile of sand. "How could he possibly know? I wouldn't have known it was him if the guard hadn't told me. He looks like any other knight."
Subikahn grinned. "They do try their best to appear identical, don't they? But if anyone's askew, it's always Ra-khir."
Saviar also smiled. It had become a family joke, one neither Ra-khir nor Kedrin appreciated. Ra-khir did spend the most time performing stable muckings, cleaning tabards, and mending hats. If a hair was out of place, it was a red one. If a sword angled slightly off kilter, it was always Ra-khir's. Saviar did not know if his father truly had the worst eye for perfection or if his grandfather simply tended to expect more of him and thus focused on every tiny flaw.
They watched as Ra-khir handed his reins to a boy and started walking toward them.
"Oh, yes," Subikahn said confidently. "He's recognized us."
Saviar could not argue. It certainly seemed as though the knight intended to greet them warmly.
Then, suddenly, Ra-khir was running toward them, and Saviar felt a smile stretch across his face, his own feet moving without the need to guide them. And, a moment later, they fell into one another's arms, laughing, smiling, clinging.
"Papa," Ra-khir said into his father's neck. "You're all right."
"I'm all right?" Ra-khir laughed again. "I thought you were dead."
I was, practically. Saviar did not bother to share that information. Barely over his paralyzing grief, Ra-khir might see that as a reason to protect his oldest son mercilessly.
Ra-khir disengaged from Saviar to face Subikahn. The Eastern prince reached out a hand in greeting, but Ra-khir ignored it, catching his stepson into an embrace as loving as his son's. "I'm so glad you're back."
"Hey," Subikahn said breathlessly. "I'm little; I can actually break." As Ra-khir eased his powerful grip, the prince added in his normal voice, "You knew it was us long before you could see our faces. How?"
"Movement, mannerisms." Ra-khir studied them both as he talked. "A man knows his sons."
Subikahn jabbed a finger at Saviar. "Sons, see? I wasn't lying."
Ra-khir finally turned his attention to Chymmerlee, executing a grand bow. "Forgive my rudeness, beautiful lady. I'm Sir Ra-khir Kedrin's son, Knight of Erythane in the service of their Majesties, King Humfreet of Erythane and High King Griff of Bearn."
Chymmerlee curtsied nervously. "So I'd gathered. I've heard a lot about you, Sir Ra-khir. All of it very good."
Saviar supplied the one amenity she had missed, "Her name's Chymmerlee, Papa. She's a friend."
Curious faces watched the reunion from the beachfront, and Saviar suddenly recognized them. "Sif and Modi, Papa! You're commanding-"
"Sir!" Subikahn shouted over his twin, with a rudeness Ra-khir would never have tolerated from Saviar.
Ra-khir would usually haughtily refuse to acknowledge such a discourteous plea, but the volume and abruptness of the call apparently had him turning to Subikahn before he could think to stop himself.
Subikahn's cheeks reddened in tight circles. "Sorry, sir. I was just thinking the war could start any moment, and I really need to get Chymmerlee somewhere safe."
"Actually," Chymmerlee said, her voice seeming small and sweet in the wake of Subikahn's cry. "I need to stay within visual distance of the war."
Subikahn swiftly lost his embarrassment. "Is there someplace like that, Ra-khir? Someplace she can watch from a safe distance?"
Only then Saviar realized the mistake he had nearly made, the one Subikahn had covered with his abrupt rudeness. Saviar had been about to say "Renshai"-a word that would have shaken Chymmerlee terribly.
Ra-khir licked his lips, clearly weighing his words. "To be brutally honest…" He paused to glance in Saviar's direction, looking to him for clues on how much information Chymmerlee could handle.
Saviar nodded decisively. Chymmerlee had a purpose, and shielding her from the truth would not make the threat as clear. She, and her people, needed to know and understand the worst case scenario.
Thus encouraged, Ra-khir finished. "… our enemies are ruthless killers of men and women. No place in the world is safe." He made a broad gesture that encompassed the massed ships. "But, if I had to pick the most secure location from which to watch this war, it's the peak of Bearn Castle. Matrinka's there, the whole royal family." His gaze flicked toward the mountain castle. "But the guards certainly won't let just anyone join them."
Saviar took Chymmerlee's hand, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by his father. "I'll convince them."
"No," Subikahn chimed in. "It'll have to be me."
Saviar's brows furrowed, and he gave his twin a curious look. "Do you think you're more convincing than I am?"
"No," Subikahn said, smiling. "Definitely not. But…" He tipped his head to Ra-khir, allowing him to explain what apparently seemed obvious to Subikahn.
Ra-khir accepted the burden. "He's a prince, Saviar. His words, no matter how well or poorly spoken, carry a lot more weight than yours do in royal situations."
Subikahn turned his twin an irritating "I told you so" expression.
"But there's a more important reason why Subikahn should go instead of you."
Those words surprised both of the young men, and a note of unhappiness in Ra-khir's tone struck Saviar. He looked at Subikahn, who had dropped his sneer for an expression of innocent uncertainty. He, too, had detected something in Ra-khir's delivery.
"Subikahn, your father's at the castle."
Subikahn blinked. When he replied, he sounded suspicious, defensive. "Yeah? So?"
Ra-khir's brows lifted, and creases appeared in his forehead. "He's badly injured, Subikahn. I've talked to some of the healers.
More than one thinks he's only lived this long because Matrinka's convinced him his lethal wounds… aren't."
Other than a slight trembling in his hands, Subikahn gave no reaction. Not a hint of emotion crossed his features. He took Chymmerlee's other arm, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Saviar. Dutifully, wistfully, he released her to the care of his brother.Without another word, Subikahn headed toward the palace.
Saviar watched them go, startled by the drop of a heavy, gloved hand on his shoulder.
"There's something going on between you, isn't there?"
Saviar turned to his father, "Well, we are brothers."
Ra-khir chuckled. "Not you and Subikahn, you goose."
It was the first time Saviar could remember his father engaging in name-calling. He would have smiled if not for the burdensome news the knight had dropped just moments earlier. "Is King Tae really going to… die?"
Ra-khir shrugged. "Matrinka's a gifted healer, and she seems utterly convinced she can fix him. But he's also one of her closest friends. I'm not sure she's able to see his situation objectively."
Saviar could only nod. He could not imagine the world without Tae Kahn. Some of his fondest memories involved romping on the floor with a king who could switch from childlike to manly in an instant. At times, Saviar had envied Subikahn his father. He could scarcely imagine Ra-khir or Kevral wrestling in the dirt with them or playing seek and hide games involving windowsills, precious heirlooms, and swinging from chandeliers.
"Of course," Ra-khir added thoughtfully, "it wouldn't be the first time Tae surprised everyone. He won't talk about it, but his body is riddled with old wounds, the kind of scars that run deep. He's been stabbed and shot dozens of times. He once fell off Bearn Castle in the winter and got trapped under a solid layer of ice for only the gods know how long. And he's still here, Saviar. He's still here."
Saviar had seen some of those scars, including the one directly over Tae's heart. "He's ornery, Papa. Neither Valhalla nor Hel wants him, so they keep throwing him back."
Ra-khir laughed. "I hope you're right." He started back toward Silver Warrior. "So, are you going to tell me about this lady of yours?"
"Gladly." Saviar walked alongside his father. "What man doesn't relish the opportunity to talk about his…" Saviar paused to pick the right word. "… budding girlfriend."
"Budding?"
"Well, I haven't known her all that long," Saviar admitted. And half of that time I was in a coma. "Thialnir is set on me courting only Renshai, and his argument is a good one."
Ra-khir sighed. "Please don't take this as criticism, but Chymmerlee doesn't seem…"
Saviar waited out the pause.
"… exactly the Renshai type."
The words confused more than offended. "What do you mean?"
"She seems… quiet. She's not carrying any obvious weapons. You just seem very… different. From one another, I mean."
Saviar could not help interjecting, "You mean, different? As opposed to you and Mama?"
Ra-khir stiffened only slightly. Apparently, he had gotten far enough past the grief to function normally, even when the conversation turned directly to Kevral. "Yes, we were different, all right. And it worked, but it wasn't easy. There were lots of problems to overcome, from inside and outside the marriage. Even to the very end." He managed a lopsided smile. "But I loved her like the stars love the sky. I would have dug to the world's core had she only asked." He gave Saviar a steady look. "Is that how you feel about Chymmerlee?"
"No," Saviar admitted. "Not yet, anyway. But I like her an awful lot, and I want to get to know her better."
"And your brother?"
"Well, of course I love him. Not sure I'd dig to the world's core for him, though."
Ra-khir stopped walking. "Are you being deliberately dense?"
"What?" Saviar came to a halt at his father's side. "No. What do you mean?"
"Tae and I were rivals for your mother's hand, you know. I'd hate for you boys to fall out over a girl."
"Oh."The idea seemed patently ludicrous now that Subikahn had shared his secret. "That's not a problem, Papa."
"You're sure."
"We've talked it out. Subikahn is not attracted to Chymmerlee."
"Good." Ra-khir continued, taking Silver Warrior's reins from the boy holding them. "Thank you, Darby. Mount up."
Only then, Saviar notic
ed the only other horse in the vicinity, a light brown chestnut. The boy scrambled to obey. Darby? Who in Hel is Darby?
Apparently noticing Saviar's consternation, Ra-khir made the introductions. "Saviar, this is Darby. My squire."
"Squire?" The word startled from Saviar's mouth; he had not meant to speak it aloud. But, once spoken, he had to continue, "As in, training him to become a Knight of Erythane?" Saviar felt suddenly hot all over. He had to bite down on the angry words taking shape in his head.
Ra-khir swung into his own saddle. "Yes, of course."
"But I… I was supposed to…" Supposed to what? Saviar had expressed interest in becoming a Knight of Erythane, but he had never followed up on it in any way. The Renshai training kept him too busy, then his work toward becoming Renshai leader, followed by the exile. He had left Ra-khir in the night, sleeping, without so much as a good-bye.
Darby dispersed the awkward moment with a happy greeting. "You must be Saviar. I'm so glad to finally meet you."
"I'd say the same." Saviar tried not to sound as grumpy as he felt. "But I didn't know you existed."
"Well, now you do." Ra-khir wheeled his mount. "Saviar, Thialnir and I need your help. Commanding Renshai is rather like taming volcanoes or herding butterflies. They seem to listen to you two, somewhat. Can you help?"
Saviar looked out over the ocean, where the enemy ships massed, then to the Renshai. They milled without pattern or structure, some sharpening weapons, others sparring, still more engaged in wild svergelse. Something much bigger than who squired his father lay at stake. "I'll help any way I can." He smiled blandly. "Just call me Saviar Ra-khirsson, volcano tamer."
Subikahn could not open the door. He did not know how long he stood outside, his hand resting on the latch, his brain numb. Once the royal family had accepted responsibility for Chymmerlee and taken her to her quarters, he found himself incapable of clear and rational thought. She had served as a lovely distraction on which he could no longer depend. The moment he eased open that door, he had to face King Tae Kahn Weile's son. The very idea churned acid through his gut.
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