"I want to hear it," Saviar blurted out, immediately cursing himself for the indiscretion. His best strategy was to remain silent. Better to look the fool, an old Erythanian proverb stated, then speak foolishly. He tried to fix the damage. "If it involves me, I should know."
Kedrin inclined his head toward Saviar without losing the rakish angle of his hat. "The young man has a point, has he not?"
Ra-khir's words emerged stilted, clearly spoken through gritted teeth. "It is not always in a man's best interests, Captain, to know every word spoken about him."
Saviar no longer thought it best to keep quiet. He knew he could gain the advantage with appropriate outrage. "You mean you're going to speak ill of me? My own father?"
"No, no," Ra-khir cringed, half-turning in his saddle. "Saviar, I wouldn't ever speak ill of you. There is nothing ill to speak. You're a boy…" He amended, "A man of great talent and caring nature. I am proud of you every moment of every day."
Saviar hammered the point home. "Then why can't you speak freely in front of me?"
Cornered, Ra-khir groaned politely. "Very well, Saviar. Captain." His shoulders slumped ever so slightly, as if he wanted to collapse but could not because it might belittle the uniform of the Knights of Erythane. "I just feel Saviar gets enough pressure from his mother without us adding to his burden."
Kedrin urged gently, "What do you mean?"
"I mean she's always after him to perform his best, rain or shine, day or night, well or sick."
"What's wrong with that, Sir Ra-khir?"
It was not the question Saviar expected. He stared at his grandfather, who presented him with another wink.
"Nothing, in theory, Captain. But it's a lot of stress for a child, especially when he's always getting compared with a brother who has the-" Ra-khir stopped with an uncomfortable suddenness. "-who has a unique amount of… uncanny… natural… ability."
"It is the life you chose for him, Ra-khir."
Saviar mulled his grandfather's words, his brow knitting. They seemed to hold an inordinate meaning for the knights that he did not understand. He supposed it referred to his father's decision to marry a Renshai, yet Ra-khir's prolonged hush made it appear to carry even more weight.
"Yes," Ra-khir finally said. "And I knew there would be times when I regretted it. Yet…" Now he gave Kedrin his full attention. "… I don't think, Captain, that we should add to the boy's…" Again, he corrected himself, "… the young man's burden by expecting him to mimic the accomplishments of an immortal."
"Ah."
"Especially Colbey Calistinsson, who didn't even undergo the intensive training of the Knights of Erythane, in addition to those of the Renshai."
"Do you think he couldn't have?"
"I don't know, Captain. I doubt he would have spared the time; but that's not my point." Ra-khir dropped a hand from the reins to smooth the fabric of his knight's tunic. "I just think we should allow Saviar to relax on the rare occasions we manage to pry him off the Fields of Wrath."
Kedrin chuckled.
The sound seemed so out of place, Saviar jerked his attention fully to the Knight-Captain.
Ra-khir tensed again, looking askance at his father. "Did I say something amusing, Captain?"
"Indeed, Sir Ra-khir. Did you think a journey to console the siblings of a lost young prince could be seen as a pleasure outing?"
Saviar saw the grim humor in the situation, and he knew Ra-khir must, too.
"Well, no, Captain," Ra-khir admitted. "There is that aspect of the trip. But I rather thought… I mean I wanted…" He seemed unable to complete the thought.
So Kedrin helped him. "We can learn from every experience, no matter how small. Don't you want the chance to guide your son on different paths than just the one his mother chose for him? You lose that if you decide only to play with him, to avoid the difficult events and discussions in his presence."
Saviar realized the conversation had progressed to levels he did not quite understand. The words conjured only images of Tae's relationship with Subikahn. In his youth, Saviar had envied the playfulness of his twin's father, how Tae had turned every interaction with the boys into a merry game. In the Eastlands, they had had no worries, no responsibilities. If anything negative ever happened in that kingdom, the twins remained blissfully ignorant. Tae seemed steadfast in assuring that nothing of import ever troubled his only son, nothing disagreeable ever marred their perfect bond. Now, Saviar eagerly awaited Ra-khir's response; but, when it came, it surprised him.
"This isn't about me and Saviar anymore, is it, Captain?"
Saviar's muscles locked in spasm. They read my mind.
Kedrin, too, looked taken aback momentarily, then smiled. "I suppose there is a bit else mixed in there, Ra-khir. We are a product of our experiences, no matter how hard we try to escape them."
His grandfather's words cued Saviar to the realization that they were referring not to Tae, but to Ra-khir's clownish stepfather.
"Biased or not, my point is still valid," Kedrin insisted. "Every life experience changes us. Why shouldn't I want the best for my grandsons?"
"You should, Captain." Ra-khir continued to emphasize the knightly relationship long after they had already reverted to a father/ son conversation. "But is overburdening him with options and decisions really 'best'?"
Saviar felt the need to cut in. "I'm not overburdened. I want to know what it's like to be a Knight of Erythane in training."
"Did you like it," Ra-khir said stiffly, "when your grandfather asked you to make a judgment in the king's place?"
Saviar flushed, then told the truth. "It scared me to death." He added quickly, "But I'm used to getting put in difficult situations, and I felt great when I realized I actually… handled it…" He turned to doubtful questioning. "… all right? Didn't I?"
Kedrin reassured. "You handled it very well. In fact, you demonstrate an impressive natural kindness, empathy, and sense of fairness. You have great potential for knighthood."
Ra-khir's stiffness became so intense it looked painful. He might gainsay his father but never his captain. "Please, Captain. Don't encourage him."
"Why not?" Saviar and Kedrin said in tandem, though the knight tacked on a "Sir Ra-khir."
Ra-khir sighed deeply, then shook his head. He drew breath, and Saviar awaited a lecture. Surely, his father would remind him how exhausting Renshai or knight training was on its own, how few managed either. He would have to pass his Renshai testing before he could even consider becoming a knight-in-training, and none of his Renshai peers could possibly understand why he would attempt both. They would tease him viciously; and even the knight-apprentices might ostracize him.
But Ra-khir did not lecture; he did not need to. "You say I'll understand when I'm a grandfather? I'll truly understand?"
Kedrin only laughed.
CHAPTER 7
Babies are born innocent, without preconceived notions or prejudice. They have only needs. They love the ones who satisfy their needs, their parents. Blood does not become significant until their minds become warped by societal bigotry.
Dewcoated the hedge of prickles, the sawgrass, and the random array of rocks and twigs that littered the central courtyard of the king's palace in Stalmize. Prince Subikahn leaped and danced through obstacles that made the gardeners shudder every time they had to tend the area. His sword cut bold arcs through the air, leaving a wake of flashing silver. Silently, his torke, Talamir, watched every movement, his expression unreadable.
Subikahn drove into the last maneuver, his sword low, his legs flexed. Silky black hair spilled into eyes nearly as dark, with just a hint of his mother's blue. The sword made a shining contrast against the deep olive of his skin. He held the position for what seemed like forever, waiting for his torke to speak.