Flight of the Renshai

Kedrin raised his head and heaved a sigh so small Saviar saw more than heard it. "Saviar, the Northmen have agreed to assist Bearn with the pirates."

"That's good." Saviar pulled on his clean britches. "No one knows more about pirates or pirating than Northmen."

"Saviar," Kedrin warned. "Your own prejudice is showing."

Saviar had never considered himself biased, but it seemed impossible to remain fair to people who had just suggested banishing his own family. "Sorry." He did not mean it, nor did it sound as if he did.

"They offered large numbers of soldiers." Ra-khir seemed torn between studying his son's reaction and giving him the appropriate privacy to finish dressing. "And asked only that they not have to serve with Renshai."

"You mean in the same unit?"

"I mean, in the same army."

"Oh." Saviar did not know what to say. One Renshai equaled three of any other warriors; yet, even counting in Renshai soldiers, the Northmen would still clearly outnumber them by thousands. "The king accepted that offer?"

"Not yet."

"But he'll have to," Saviar guessed. "How did Thialnir take it?"

"Not well," Ra-khir admitted. "Though, to his credit, he refrained from violence. A group of us are going to try to explain the situation to him."

"We'd like you to come along," Kedrin said.

Saviar glanced at his father, who did not contradict. At one time, they had clearly disagreed on this matter. "You would do better taking Calistin."

"Calistin?" Ra-khir shook his head. "I don't think Calistin would see the situation any differently than Thialnir."

Saviar had to concur. "Well, then. How many of the people who are going to talk to Thialnir can best him in a battle?"

"None," Kedrin said. "But we're planning to talk to him, not kill him."

Saviar adjusted his britches. "Diplomacy means something different to Renshai. He won't respect a man who couldn't kill him. That's why I suggested Calistin."

Kedrin heaved a more obvious sigh. "And who do you know who can best Calistin?"

"No one. Why?"

"Because…" Kedrin sat on the neatly stretched blankets of his own pallet. "… I imagine we will find it just as hard to convince Calistin as Thialnir. No, Saviar, you're the only Renshai we have. And the only one we need."

Saviar could not fathom his grandfather's endorsement. "I haven't even passed my manhood testing. Thialnir's a proven warrior, blooded and tested. They chose him to represent us."

"He won't listen unless you best him?" Ra-khir took a step toward Saviar.

"I'd have to give him a reasonably good fight at the very least. That will take years. I might never gain the ability to take on-"

Ra-khir seized his son's arm. "We have two days, Saviar. Let's get started."

Before the boy could protest, he was led to the door, Ra-khir in the lead and Kedrin following. Together, they headed back toward the practice courtyard.

With a quick apology and a spectacular bow, Ra-khir excused himself from the company of his father and his son before they entered the courtyard. To Saviar's chagrin, his father disappeared down a side corridor, but Kedrin did not seem put off by the abrupt departure. Instead he flicked the latch, and opened the door onto the familiar practice courtyard.

Saviar stepped inside. A haze hung over the courtyard, no longer illuminated by morning sunlight, and the obstacles seemed awash in silver. Kedrin glanced at the racks of practice swords. It suited him better not to train with live steel; yet he also knew that the Renshai always did. In the end, he did not exchange his blade but guided Saviar to the most uncluttered part of the grounds, free from debris and deliberate constructions.

"Now," Kedrin began, facing Saviar squarely, "I know you're not a beginner, so we'll skip right to the advanced training."

Saviar kept his expression sober. His torke claimed that any swordwork taught by ganim would be a lesson Renshai had learned so early in life they could not even recall not knowing it. Saviar kept his mind open, however. If anyone might know a useful, different technique it would be the captain of the Knights of Erythane.

"Show me your stance," Kedrin said, assuming a classic posture, knees bent, weight evenly distributed, right foot leading slightly.

"Which one?"

"Of course.You probably know a thousand." Kedrin laughed, relaxing. "This is rather like pouring a bucket of water in the ocean, isn't it?"

"Well…" Saviar stalled, not knowing what to say. "Perhaps… you could teach me some power moves."

"Power moves?"

Saviar made a few graceful motions to work the kinks from his legs. "Calistin keeps reminding me that Renshai maneuvers rely on quickness, not strength; but I naturally try to outmuscle everyone because I'm bigger."

Kedrin blinked, as if noticing Saviar for the first time. "You are my biggest grandson, but you're not exactly enormous."

"I'm bigger than any other Renshai my age."

Kedrin nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose you are. You favor your father and me.You'll fill out a lot over the next few years."

Saviar hung his head. "Don't remind me."

"Don't remind you?" Kedrin's pale brows rose in increments. "Savi, that's a good thing."

"Not for Renshai."

Kedrin disagreed and made it clear. "Even for Renshai. Quick maneuvers work great for Renshai, but size and strength don't harm them either. Look at Thialnir."

"He's huge," Saviar admitted.

"And one of the Renshai's most skilled fighters."

Saviar nodded. Until the realization that he might have to face the Renshai's leader in combat, he had never considered Thialnir's size before. The man was intimidating for reasons beyond his massive frame.

"Believing a large man must be slow has cost many warriors their lives, Saviar." Kedrin's blue-white eyes held a sincerity that went beyond truth. Not only did he speak honestly, he did so from the heart, from a need for his grandson to understand. "Handled well, size can become speed's greatest asset."

Saviar's heartbeat quickened. It seemed possible that Kedrin knew a lesson the Renshai would never teach him. "Can you… can you show me?"

"I can." Kedrin drew his sword with a fluency Saviar normally attributed only to Renshai. "Please stand back," he said, then laughed. "Sorry, I keep forgetting who I'm talking to."

Saviar could dodge any move his grandfather could make so quickly it might seem as if he anticipated the strike before Kedrin decided on it. He made a motion of encouragement. He had never before seen his grandfather draw steel. The Knight-Captain mostly instructed his charges verbally or demonstrated by repositioning the other man's arms, legs, or weapon.

Kedrin executed a series of deft warm-up strikes, then looked directly at Saviar. "Ready?"

Saviar nodded. Renshai were always ready for anything to do with swords.

Kedrin launched into the ganim version of a svergelse, his strokes powerful, committed, and yet still nimble and precise. His movements seemed a study in paradox: broad and strong, lithe and agile. Saviar saw nothing slow or clumsy in the captain's actions, and they lacked the ponderous ungainliness the Renshai ascribed to muscled outsiders. Kedrin could not match the speed and fiery grace of a Renshai, but that had to do with practice and dedication, not technique. Saviar watched, awed. He could adapt some of those power strokes into new and deadly Renshai maneuvers.

Diving into the flying cuts of steel, Saviar stayed his grandfather's hand with a careful parry and grab. Close in, swords bound, hand gripping Kedrin's wrist, he looked excitedly at the knight. "Teach me."

For an instant, Kedrin looked shocked. He studied the boy in front of him, making absolutely certain his blade had never touched Saviar. Once sure, he relaxed. "I will."