"It's not?" Treysind's skepticism was tangible
"Not to other Renshai, no."
"But ya's usin' real sa-wards. An' so… so angry-like, deadly-like."
"It's how we train. But no other Renshai would ever hurt me."
"No?"
A thrill trickled across Calistin. He actually seemed to be getting through the boy's bricklike skull. "Never. I'm more likely to die tripping over you and… and falling into that well."
"I'd be fishin' ya's out, Hero. Right 'way, I's would."
Calistin was not so sure he would return the favor. "Of course you would."
Treysind nodded vigorously and somberly.
"So, we're agreed, then? No protecting me from other Renshai?"
Treysind considered for a very long time, gaze distant, features screwed up tightly. "I… s'pose… I… most times… I…"
It was hardly the sterling promise Calistin wanted; but, for the moment, it worked.
CHAPTER 11
The genius of one man can surpass the superior forces of another.
Saviar opened the guest room door to a heated discussion that ceased instantly. The Knights of Erythane would never inflict their personal problems on anyone, not even a family member. Father and grandfather gave Saviar welcoming smiles despite his sweat-soaked, filthy clothing and the hair dangling into his eyes. Though they remained perfectly meticulous, as always, they never expected the same of others.
Saviar dropped to his bed, delicately removed his sword, and pulled his cleaning kit from his pocket. A Renshai always tended his swords before his person. "So, how did things go with the Northmen?" He unraveled a spotless white rag and a vial of sword oil.
The ensuing silence piqued Saviar's curiosity. He looked up in time to see the knights just breaking a serious, nonverbal exchange.
Ra-khir cleared his throat. "Not bad, Saviar; but not as I might have wished either."
Saviar set to cleaning his weapon, concentrating on the blade but still allowing himself to glance up often enough to read expressions. "Let me guess, it wasn't all about ore."
"It wasn't," Ra-khir admitted.
"They brought up Renshai."
"Yes."
"And the 'right' of Paradisians to return to their homeland."
A stunned silence followed. Saviar feigned total engrossment in his weapon but could not suppress a grin. It was rare that he could startle his father speechless.
When the hush continued long past surprise, Saviar finally looked directly at his father. The moment he met those green eyes, Ra-khir spoke, "How could you possibly know that?"
Saviar considered leaving the knights in suspense, but swiftly discarded it. They would worry about a leak in the Council Room, which could turn into a grave political incident. "I sparred with Verdondi Eriksson, the captain's son.We also talked." He did not have to add the last sentence, usually. Most warriors would not think twice about chatting during practice. For Renshai, it was a dangerous offense. Like turning one's back, it implied that one's opponent was so poorly skilled that concentration and wariness were unnecessary in his presence. It was regarded as grave insult.
Kedrin's eyes widened. "Does Verdondi know you're Renshai?"
Saviar returned his attention to his sword. "It didn't come up."
Ra-khir asked in a cautious voice pitched to sound matter-of-fact but not quite succeeding, "Did your relationship to the Knights of Erythane 'come up'?"
"Yes."
Kedrin added, "Probably just as well."
"Yes," Ra-khir agreed. "Probably."
Though Saviar continued to work directly on his sword, he could feel his father's gaze upon him. He set aside his project for a moment. "Papa, I'm not a fool."
"What?" Ra-khir sounded offended. "Of course you're not, Saviar. I've never suggested otherwise."
"I didn't lie, and I won't if directly questioned. But it wouldn't hurt to have Verdondi see me as a friend before he knows what I am. It might give him a reason to rethink the prejudice his people have drummed into him since birth."
"Timing is everything," Kedrin said softly.
Father and son looked at him simultaneously.
He wore his formal knight garb: the tabard with Bearn's rearing golden grizzly on a blue background on the front and Erythane's black sword against orange on the back. Though matured, his features remained strikingly handsome, and the red-blond hair he once shared with son and grandson had turned a distinguished silver. His appearance, his stance, commanded attention and obedience; and Saviar understood how the knights were known and respected even as far away as the Northlands. "In battle, in life, in diplomacy. Everything is timing."
Ra-khir smiled. "Don't tell me…" He closed his eyes and held his fingers to his temples, as if concentrating very hard and receiving an answer whispered by the gods: "General Santagithi."
Finding the origin of Kedrin's quotations had become an easy matter. As Kedrin studied the writings and history of the ancient Western leader/general, he had become more enamored of his wisdom and methods. Considered the best strategist of his era, Santagithi had essentially single-handedly won the Westlands biggest war, the Great War, against a then-hostile Eastlands. He also had a connection to the Renshai. His daughter, Mitrian, was the mother of the half-breed tribe of Tannin and the grandmother of the non-blooded tribe of Rache.
Kedrin shrugged. "Scoff if you must, my son. Great men deserve their due, even long after death."
"Or, in Colbey's case, without the need to die at all." Ra-khir threw up his hands, as if in surrender. "And between my father and my wife, I'm starved for original thought."
"That," Kedrin returned playfully, "is what adolescent sons are for. After all, they know everything."
Ra-khir returned his attention to his son. "In Saviar's case, I'm starting to believe that's true. Do you understand what your grandfather is saying, albeit secondhand, about timing?"
"I do." Saviar did not want to miss a detail. He had to find a way to prove to his father that he was as much a man as Calistin, despite not yet having passed his Renshai testing. "He's saying that I need to reveal the truth at the right time and in the best way. I can't wait until someone else tells Verdondi I'm Renshai or leave him feeling as if I'm deliberately misleading him and using him for information."
Ra-khir nodded sagely. "You do understand."
"Of course, I do." Secretly thrilled by his father's approval, Saviar returned to his oiling. Neither of his parents could be impressed easily. "Like I said, I'm not a fool."
"Ra-khir?" Kedrin said.
Ra-khir apparently caught the reference. "Yes, all right. I suppose you do know better."
Finished with his task, Saviar returned the sword to his belt. He started stripping off his training clothing. As the wet cloth peeled away, it left him damp, cold, and covered in gooseflesh.
Kedrin politely averted his eyes. "Saviar, the Northmen asked King Griff to exile all Renshai."
Saviar stiffened but refused to otherwise react. He knew the king of Bearn would never do such a thing. "How did the Northmen react when he said 'no'?"
"His Majesty," Ra-khir explained, "did not have to say 'no.' The Fields of Wrath are in Erythane, not Bearn proper."
Saviar pulled on a clean tunic. It smelled freshly laundered, a welcome relief after the tainted stiffness his garments had attained during travel. He dragged off his britches next. "So, he simply pushed the decision off onto King Humfreet? He didn't defend us at all?"
"This is diplomacy," Kedrin said. "Things are handled differently than in… real life. Wars and alliances are decided by a word or a pen stroke."
"All right."
"And," Ra-khir added, "the king did say that Renshai were courageous, competent, invaluable guardians and warriors. That he has always supported them, and they have never let him down."
"All right," Saviar said again, not wholly happy or comforted but still willing to listen. King Humfreet was a reasonable man but without the historical loyalty and wisdom of Bearn's royalty. Saviar suspected the knights had not yet come to the contentious part of the discussion, and that troubled him greatly.