"In the process of cheering on his charge, Colbey insulted the boy's father, Brignar, resulting in a second duel. There is ambiguity over who actually initiated the challenge, but history records that it was fought immediately and with swords, which suggests that Colbey did."
Saviar had to agree with the assumption. Knights displayed far more patience than Renshai, and ancient knights, especially, preferred mounted combat with pikes.
"In any case, there is no doubt that Colbey won the battle handily, badly humiliating his opponent in the process." Kedrin looked at Ra-khir, who frowned sourly.
Sensing a scandal, Saviar understood his grandfather's hesitation. Yet his own Renshai impatience won out over courtesy. "What happened next?"
Kedrin sighed but dutifully continued, "I'm afraid Brignar did something… unchivalrous."
Knowing Colbey as every Renshai did, Saviar guessed. "Colbey taunted Brignar, didn't he?" A likely scenario came to the fore. "Oh! He turned his back on his enemy."
"The ultimate gesture of a warrior's disdain, yes."
Saviar presumed the rest, gasping at the enormity of Brignar's infraction. "And Brignar attacked him? From behind?"
Kedrin grimaced. "I'm afraid so."
The rest was obvious. Colbey would not have forgiven the crime. "And died." Saviar's brow furrowed. After that, the trail of understanding broke. "But how…? Why would the Knights of Erythane want Colbey to… after he just killed…?" He studied his grandfather's striking features, sucked in by the utter pallor of those white-blue eyes. Do my eyes really look like that?
"It was old law," Kedrin explained. "Long established and only changed within my lifetime." He casually fixed a crease in his sleeve. "When a man bested a knight in fair combat, he earned the knight's position. Once he pledged himself to Erythane and Bearn, he received the position, title, and steed."
"Frost Reaver." Saviar had long known the name and color of Colbey's beloved stallion. It had always seemed strange that a Renshai would choose to ride a beast of such standout brightness, yet Saviar had simply dismissed that as one of the many oddities of Colbey Calistinsson. "Could that be the same horse?"
"It is." Ra-khir blurted, then covered his mouth, eyes wide.
Kedrin only laughed at the interruption. "You're off-duty, Ra-khir. Feel free to speak your mind, even if it is ill-timed."
Ignoring the obvious sarcasm, Ra-khir obeyed. "Like the gods, he eats the apples of Idun to stay forever young. I've ridden him."
Now it was Saviar's turn to barge in without thinking. "You've ridden Frost Reaver! You've ridden Colbey Calistinsson's horse!" Kedrin's story no longer mattered. Saviar had to know. "When? How?" He did not leave time for answers before adding accusingly, "How come you never told us?"
Ra-khir shrugged and flushed and smiled simultaneously. "The time was never right."
"And now?" Saviar could not let the matter rest. He wondered how many other incredible things his father had never found the right time to tell him.
"If you wish." Ra-khir studied his own mount, grazing pleasantly on moss and leaf sprouts. He had not bothered to tie the stallion; Silver Warrior would not stray. "When Colbey embarked on his mission to save the world, he gave me Frost Reaver."
"Gave you…?" Saviar's voice cracked.
"When Colbey survived despite even his own expectations, I gave him back his horse." Ra-khir winked. "There're few things more pitiful than a pleading immortal, especially a Renshai immortal."
Saviar dropped to his haunches, shocked silent. He had heard about his parents' exploits, their missions to rescue the West, his mother's visit to Valhalla. He also knew that Kevral and Ra-khir had fallen in love during these deadly excursions. But he had never heard that his father had a personal relationship with the Renshai's most cherished hero. Unable to wrap his mind around this stunning admission, he pushed his thoughts back to one he might. "So Colbey… pledged his allegiance… to Erythane and Bearn?"
"Shocking, isn't it?" Whether Kedrin referred to Ra-khir's admission or Saviar's question, he did not know. "Colbey did so swear in an informal ceremony before the King of Erythane. Remember, at that time, he was pledged to help protect the Westlands anyway, and he trusted the man who became Bearn's greatest king. Sterrane and Colbey were close friends."
Saviar took the information a step further, "And Colbey was nearly eighty years old. He couldn't possibly have guessed he would go on to live another three hundred years." The implications seemed staggering. "So… has anyone ever called him in to fulfill his knightly pledge?"
Ra-khir grinned viciously. "He's never taken guard duty, if that's what you mean. Colbey's title is not commonly known, even among the Knights of Erythane."
"To my knowledge, no one has called Colbey in for any reason, then or since." Kedrin put a more serious spin on the question, "Who would dare?"
Who, indeed? Saviar wondered, yet he also knew that in times of great trouble men sometimes resorted to desperate measures.
CHAPTER 6
Leadership can be taught, and wisdom can be gained; but character comes only from the heart
The story of sir Colbey Calistinsson consumed Saviar's thoughts as the three men traversed the highway between Erythane and the mountain kingdom of Bearn. It seemed odd to the young Renshai that he continued to mull the details long after reality sprang to the fore and begged dismissal of the whole idea. The fact that Colbey had accomplished some feat made it no less impossible, and even the great hero of the Renshai had fallen into this situation wholly by accident.
So, Colbey had killed a man, one of hundreds or, more likely, thousands. He had lived in a much different era: when a Renshai's adult status was determined by a kill, not competence with a test. History spoke of a time when, banished from their Northern homeland for barbarism, the Renshai had wandered through the West and East, slaughtering for supplies or, merely, for fun. War was a Renshai's life, his satisfaction, and his glee. And it had stoked a hatred that existed even to this day, centuries after its inception and long after the Renshai had turned to more peaceful means of obtaining their necessities.
It was during this period of isolation and exile that Colbey had been born and raised, and he brought the flavor of his upbringing into his adulthood. With a bargain and a battle, the Renshai tribe had regained a piece of the North, from that point on referred to as Devil's Island. Bitter about their loss, the combined armies of the North had attacked the island in the dead of night, slaughtering nearly every Renshai. Only much later, the shattered remnants of the Renshai had re-formed in the West from the three tribes, only one of which had a full complement of original Renshai blood. The tribe of Modrey. My mother's tribe.
Now riding behind his father, on Silver Warrior's broad rump, Saviar strained new muscles and let the scenery scroll by without notice. His swords tapped his legs with every stride in a steady pattern: left, right; left right. He appreciated their touch; without them, he felt as naked as any Renshai would. He sighed, understanding the improbability of his double dream yet unable to let it go. He wondered why Ra-khir had fueled his desire by using Colbey's status as both Renshai and knight to whet his son's curiosity. Even the immortal Renshai had not undergone the intensive training currently required by the Knights of Erythane.
Kedrin, Ra'khir, and Saviar had passed several other travelers on their way to Bearn. Most stepped aside with courteous bows for knights as respected as the Renshai were reviled. Now, as they topped a low rise, Saviar glimpsed a wagon around his father's broad back. It sat, lopsided, by the roadside. Freed from its traces, the horse grazed the ditches. Two ragged men stood in the center of the roadway, waving at the knights.