Flight of the Renshai

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 noticed 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.

Subikahn heard someone approach from behind; his Renshai training would not allow a potential threat to go unnoticed. Logic overruled instinct. No one currently in Bearn Castle would harm him, and it seemed like too much trouble and energy to turn.

Matrinka came up beside Subikahn and rested her hand on his. "It's all right, honey. He's going to be fine."

Subikahn turned to face her, glad to give his hand to her, any excuse to remove it from the latch. "Your Majesty-"

"Matrinka," she corrected, her features stern. "No formality between old friends."

At nineteen, Subikahn found it difficult to say he had any friendships he could consider long-standing. But he had known Matrinka nearly since birth. "I-I've heard a rumor."

"Yes?"

"That his injuries…" Subikahn wanted Matrinka to finish.

Matrinka did not oblige, but she did answer his actual question. "The other healers don't understand. They see a wound and pronounce it fatal for any man." She turned him a grin, lopsided from weariness and discomfort. "Your father, Subikahn, is not 'any man.' "

Subikahn held his breath, afraid of what he might hear. It would not surprise him to find out that animal blood ran through the veins of his paternal ancestors. Are we demons? Sorcerers? We can't be god-blooded. "What do you mean?"

Matrinka took Subikahn's other hand. "I mean, your father… he survived… what he survived in childhood, you know. And I don't know if he was born with an iron nature or acquired it through what happened when he was simply too young to know he should be dead; but I've seen him wounded worse than this before. I've pronounced him dead on at least one other occasion, yet he's still with us: then… and now."

Subikahn blinked. He had no idea what she was talking about. "Your Maj…" he started; then, remembering her admonishment, changed in mid word, "… trinka. What happened?"

"Sword cut and arrow shot," Matrinka explained, "a bad fall, a long float in the ocean, and a shark attack."

Subikahn went even stiller, if possible. He had meant his question to refer to the childhood incident, but the current information stunned him. "All of that?"

"I'm afraid so."

Subikahn swallowed hard. How could anyone survive that? The idea of walking through the door became even more difficult. "When you mentioned what he survived in childhood, is that where the scars came from?"

Matrinka was visibly startled. "You don't know? He's never told you?"

Subikahn hesitated, worried Matrinka would keep the confidences of her longtime friend she considered a brother. He thought about lying but doubted he could successfully pull it off and get the answers he had sought for as long as he could remember. "He always dodges the question. I want to know. Tell me."

Matrinka looked from the door to Subikahn, as if weighing her loyalties to father and to son. Finally, she sighed. "Enemies of your grandfather tortured and slaughtered your grandmother, stabbed your father at least a dozen times, and left him for dead. My understanding is that there was more blood on the floor than inside Tae when Weile found him."

Subikahn did not allow himself to cringe. He did not want to discourage Matrinka. The scars riddled Tae's chest; the assassins had clearly intended to kill him. Surely, Matrinka had nothing to add.

But the queen of Bearn continued talking. "And before he turned your age, Weile sent Tae out alone, experienced killers at his heels, to 'toughen him up.' " She snorted. "Toughen him up? He's the toughest son of a bastard in the kingdom, I'd guess. Maybe in the world. He hated his father for doing that to him, despised the entire world for a while, and vowed that he would keep his own child safe and close. Which is why, Subikahn, he's always been so sweet and loving with you."

Has he? Clearly, Tae had not told Matrinka of their falling out, how the king had exiled the son he had promised to keep safe and close. "So," Subikahn said without a hint of emotion. "He's going to recover?"

Matrinka heaved another, deeper sigh. "It's up to him, now, Subikahn. The salt water cleansed his wounds nicely, and I've given him potent herbs to keep infection at bay." She shrugged. "He's living from event to event, which is never a good thing. First, he was just going to drag on long enough to get Imorelda safely to me. Then, it was until he described his scouting mission to someone in authority. Now, he's waiting to settle things up with you."

Icy prickles passed along Subikahn's shoulders to his fingers. He could not help wondering how much Matrinka knew. "Settle things up?"

"You know, the father/son deathbed speech. Half promises, half pep talk. I've seen a number of them. Very inspiring, but also a perfect excuse to… surrender."

Subikahn guessed her point. "Surrender… to death, you mean?"

"Yes."

Subikahn stepped back, relieved. "So, the longer I delay this meeting, the longer he lives?"

"No." Matrinka would not let him off that easily. "Subikahn, you have to see him. No matter what I think, his wounds are serious.You may not get another chance, and we will both hate ourselves forever if you don't see him before he dies."

Or I die. Subikahn realized Tae's fate might prove less tenuous than his own once the battle began in earnest.