Apparently mistaking his surprise for an act, Kevral laughed. "Of course they do. You know that. You were an adolescent b-" She broke off abruptly and ended with a simple "Oh."
Ra-khir's thoughts drifted back to a bitter childhood he rarely consulted when raising his own sons. When Ra-khir was quite young, his parents had separated. His mother had remarried and insisted that her new husband was his father. She had held Kedrin at bay with threats and trickery, lied to Ra-khir about his origins, and the fool she married assisted her deception. Ra-khir had not learned the truth until his teens. When his mother gave him an ultimatum, he chose his father over her and started the relationship he should have had throughout his childhood. "When I was an adolescent boy, I was just getting to know and love my father. And I had every reason to dislike my mother."
Kevral turned him an apologetic look. She had clearly not intended to dredge up those memories. "Adolescent boys who grow up with loving parents reach a stage where they sort of…" Kevral cocked her head, as if trying to quote someone verbatim and not quite finding the correct words. "… distance themselves from their parents in order to find their own place in the world."
Ra-khir guessed at the source of Kevral's words. "Matrinka?" Usually, she quoted Colbey Calistinsson, but child rearing was not the purview of the consummate Renshai.
Kevral smiled sheepishly. "Darris, actually. He was in Erythane several months back doing… something diplomatic…"
Ra-khir marveled at how such brilliance with martial training could be accompanied by such complete ignorance about anything political.
"… and I asked him why my boys went from treating me like a fount of wisdom to treating me like a humiliating and utter moron."
Ra-khir huffed out a relieved sigh. "So it's not just me?"
"No, it's all parents. Apparently, we're all morons. For a while, at least."
Glad to find a logical and less personal reason for the change in his relationship with Saviar, Ra-khir glanced back toward the class. It did not appear as if the Knight's-Captain, or any of the Renshai students, had moved a muscle.
"So, do you think Saviar had a reason for wanting to accompany you? Or do you think he's just avoiding his lessons?"
Ra-khir pursed his lips, giving Saviar the benefit of his doubts. The boy did not have a history of dodging work or even difficult situations. Ra-khir suspected Saviar's newfound interest in the knighthood had more to do with the boy's request, but Ra-khir could not tell that to Kevral. It would upset her, probably wholly without cause. Likely, Saviar's attraction to the knights was merely part of the aforementioned "finding his place in the world." Eventually, his curiosity would wane, and it seemed beyond foolish to worry Kevral or give Calistin another point on which to harass his already beleaguered older brother. "I trust Saviar's judgment, and he's not a shirker." Ra-khir added wistfully, "The boys spend so much time honing swordcraft, I rarely get to spend time with any of them. I'd really like him to come, if you don't mind."
Kevral nodded. Saying nothing, she drifted back toward her students, Ra-khir following in her wake, as always enjoying the view.
When Kevral returned, her expression gave away nothing. She pinned Saviar with her gaze. "You will practice."
Though not a question, Saviar replied as if it were, "At every dismount. I won't sleep until I've worked hard enough to satisfy you." Saviar knew it helped his case that he had performed so well in class that day.
"I'll see to that," Ra-khir promised, mounting Silver Warrior.
Kevral drew in a deep breath and released it.
Saviar felt as if his heart stopped beating for that moment, as if concerned to make noise and drown out his mother's decision.
"See that he does." Kevral made a dismissive gesture toward her eldest son before turning her attention to the rest of her class. "Again!" she commanded, sending the Renshai scrambling to repeat their last maneuver. From that moment, she showed no further interest in the knights or her son, though she surely kept track of their every movement by sound. No Renshai could remain entirely unaware of any nearby human, friend or foe.
Ra-khir reached out a hand, and Saviar caught it eagerly, before his sword-dedicated mother had a chance to change her mind.
CHAPTER 5
My actions vary with circumstances, but honor itself is not situational.
A heavy breeze, wet with frost, caressed Saviar's sweat-soaked body, a cool and pleasant contrast to his overtaxed limbs and muscles cramped by hours astride a shared horse. Silver Warrior had a smooth, rolling gait; but that barely diminished the discomfort of bouncing on withers instead of settling into the comfortable hollow worn by nearly two decades of riding and softened by the stallion's age. Accustomed to free movement, and understanding that his life might depend upon his speed and agility, Saviar had cursed the stiffness that assaulted his backside upon dismounting. Nevertheless, he had forced himself to give his all to the sword practice he had promised his mother. Now, finished with both, he refused to limp as he approached his father and grandfather.
The knights perched on a deadfall, conversing softly. Both wore the requisite colors, their cloaks immaculate, their swords sheathed, and their hats perched at the proper, jaunty angle. Travel foods lay spread in front of them, but neither man had touched a morsel. Half-starved, Saviar marveled at their self-control as he crouched across from them, his own ardor for the meal unhidden. He could not keep his stare from the journey bread, dried fruit and jerky, the waterskins. Though nothing special, at the moment it seemed like an irresistible feast.
"You didn't have to wait for me," Saviar asserted, sucking back welling saliva before it emerged as drool.
"We did." Ra-khir gestured at the bounty. "To do otherwise would be impolite."
Saviar shook his head without argument. He had told them to start without him, but the knights' unmitigated honor would not allow them even then. Saviar wanted to tell them that he would have found no rudeness in their eating while he practiced, and that they could abandon formality in his presence; but either comment seemed unnecessary, perhaps even insulting. The knights' honor had nothing to do with Saviar and everything to do with the code by which they chose to live.
Saviar scooped up a piece of jerky and a hunk of bread, not wishing to delay their meal another moment. In the future, he decided, he would practice on a full stomach. He would find it painful and would, likely, vomit; but it would save his father and grandfather from suffering. In addition, it would please his mother who insisted they practice on all terrains, in twilight and high sun, in blizzards and even states of fever. "An enemy," she often reminded him, "will not plan an attack based on your comfort."
Though driven to shove everything into his mouth and swallow, Saviar forced himself to chew. Kevral had a point, though it seemed a bit excessive and silly at times. Other than the pirates on the Southern Sea, Saviar knew of no one poised to battle any of them, except perhaps his own brother. If Renshai went to war, they did so by choice, to aid the Bearnides in the pirate skirmishes. Until Arturo's disappearance, however, those had not seemed much of a threat.
Saviar waited until he had consumed the food in his hands at a reasonable pace before swallowing the last bite and speaking. "So what happened to Arturo? How did he go missing?"
Ra-khir washed his last bite down with a swallow of water. "He was aboard a harbor warship. Pirates slaughtered the entire crew." He lowered his head respectfully. "There were no survivors."
Saviar caught himself wiping his hands on his britches. Though they said nothing, he knew the knights did not approve. "Including Arturo?" He shook his head as he reached for the fruit. "Then why do they say he's just missing?"