Thialnir was known for neither, rather for abruptness in everything, including decisions. "But-"
"And, I believe you understand the politics every bit as much as I do, Saviar. Perhaps more."
No longer confused, Saviar trembled with building anger. "Let me speak with Papa, instead."
"Sir Ra-khir will not make this decision for you, either."
Saviar spoke through gritted teeth. "Perhaps Sir Ra-khir would like to speak for himself."
"Not necessary." Kedrin tipped his head. "Sir Ra-khir is a Knight of Erythane, and I am his superior. In situations such as this, we're both sworn to objectivity."
Rage warmed Saviar's blood momentarily, then disappeared. He no longer wanted to punch his grandfather, only to cry and beg for his help. He did none of those things, though tears stung his eyes. "Please. I don't know what to do, what to say. Thialnir takes my suggestions very seriously."
"As he should." Kedrin remained maddeningly unhelpful. "I will send him over." He headed back toward the gathering.
As his grandfather walked away, Saviar found himself trembling, assaulted by uncertainty, by fear, by loathing at once. A tear slipped from his eye, and he wiped it away fiercely. He dared not let Thialnir catch him weeping. He concentrated on the details of the contract, rewording it as clearly as possible in his head, blocking out the emotions the issues raised. By the time Thialnir arrived, he knew exactly what he wished to say.
Saviar launched into the short version of the venture: the proposed one-on-one combat so like the one that had allowed the Renshai to claim Devil's Island in the North long after their initial banishment; the rewards in plain language without the attendant baggage; and the consequences of failure. He had only just taken a breath to explain the underlying politics when Thialnir raised his giant hand.
"The Renshai have been challenged, and we will fight."
To the great leader of the Renshai, it was all that obvious, that simple.
Saviar opened his mouth, even as he realized there was no sense in arguing the point. Thialnir saw the whole thing in black and white: fight equals courage, refusing meant cowardice. No long-winded explanation would change Thialnir's mind, so Saviar salvaged the situation the only way he could. "At least, sir, let's add some safeguards to the contract. Define the end point of the battle, for example. Death or first blood?"
"Death. One less scheming Northman."
"When and where should it occur? What constitutes a fair battle? How should we handle noncombatant interference?"
Thialnir approached each question, only to have Saviar cut him off with the next one. To the youth, they were merely examples for future discussion.
As Saviar paused for breath, Thialnir addressed the final question first, "The last one-on-one Northman Renshai battle I know of suffered from exactly that interference."
Saviar knew his Renshai history. "Colbey versus the Slayer."
"Valr Kirin," Thialnir filled in the name. "Valr" meant Slayer, a nickname for the North's greatest warrior at the time. "Kirin's son leaped to his father's defense and wound up getting him killed instead."
Saviar stuck with the salient point, "And some Northmen used that as an excuse not to honor the contract."
"Good point." Thialnir patted Saviar's shoulder, a touch he accepted as he had not his grandfather's. "We will have it entered that any interference in the battle voids the contract."
It sounded wise, until Saviar considered further. The clause, used wrongly, could just as easily become a means for the Northmen to cheat. "Except, let's say the Northman is losing-"
"A certainty." Thialnir bobbed his enormous, graying head. "If some cowardly Northman shot our Renshai in the back, the end result would not count."
Saviar did not allow himself to get distracted from his new point. "-so a noncombatant deliberately kills the Northman for the sole purpose of voiding the contract. That would give them leave to enter a fresh, new contestant against our tired one. They could keep doing that until they got the upper hand."
Thialnir snorted. "Except, they would never get the upper hand. The worst of our men could slaughter the best of theirs three times over."
"True." Saviar would not argue things that did not matter. "But four times over? Five? At some point, even a Renshai gets overwhelmed."
Thialnir grunted something incoherent but finally conceded. "What if we say it's only enemy interference that voids the contract? That way, if the Northmen shoot down our warrior, it's a disqualification. If they kill their own warrior, they simply lose."
Saviar could not see any flaws in Thialnir's new argument. He nodded. At least now they had an answer to the challenge. All that remained was hashing out the final details. Though glad to have the decision out of his hands, Saviar worried about the situation. Win or lose, the lives of the Renshai would change spectacularly. He only hoped it would prove for the better.
CHAPTER 15
Because Kevral is Renshai, she will do as she pleases and suffer the consequences gladly
The day of the battle dawned in dreary solemnity. Rope-wrapped stakes squared off the battlefield on the Fields of Wrath, and Knights of Erythane patrolled around them, keeping the crowd in check. Surprised by the sheer number of spectators, Saviar stood on the outskirts of the gathered nobility, Northmen, and Renshai, glad Thialnir seemed comfortable handling the final details without him.
Though he noticed someone approaching to his right, Saviar did not bother to acknowledge it. He hoped the other would realize he had no patience for idle conversation.
"Why didn't you tell me you were Renshai?"
Saviar stiffened, then turned slowly to face Verdondi. He flushed, dodging the quick blue eyes. "You… you didn't ask." It was a feeble argument, and he knew it. He had never expected the information to come out this way. Timing is everything. Kedrin had said, and Saviar knew he should have told the truth a long time ago.
"Who would think to ask a young man in the practice area of Bearn Castle such a question?"
Saviar bit his lip, too guilty to laugh. Anyone who knew King Griff hired Renshai to guard his heirs would expect them in the practice area as often as possible.
"You said you were the son of a Knight of Erythane."
"I am."
"A Knight and also a Renshai?"
"My mother…" Saviar finally met the young Northman's gaze. "… is Renshai."
Verdondi's nostrils flared. "Oh."
"Yes, 'oh.' " Saviar started to turn his attention back to the proceedings, but Verdondi was not yet ready.
"You still should have told me."
"You're right," Saviar admitted, "I should have. But my father and grandfather would not have tolerated bloodshed in Bearn Castle."
Verdondi's brows arched higher. "Bloodshed? I-" His lids abruptly fell from abnormally wide to squintingly narrow. "I get it. You think far too little of me." He grunted out an irritated sigh. "I deserve better."
"I'm sorry." Saviar made a little bow. "I should not have assumed." Believing the conversation finished, he glanced out over the crowd, sifting Renshai from the vast array of Erythanians. Even a few Bearnides had made the trip, their enormous physiques and shaggy dark heads towering over most of the others.
"Who's your champion?"
Saviar continued to study the crowd as he answered, "My baby brother, Calistin."
"Your baby brother?" Verdondi seemed shocked by the answer. "I know Renshai look younger, but just how old-"
Saviar did not bother to wait for the end of the question. "He's eighteen. I'm nineteen, as of today."
"Your champion is only eighteen?"
Saviar nodded.
"And you look reasonably close to your… real age."
"I do."
"So not all Renshai-?"
"I favor my father's side of the family," Saviar interrupted swiftly. He did not want to get into an argument over rumors; Verdondi might actually believe they slaughtered infants and performed foul rites with the blood to keep their youth. "But Calistin seems to carry more of our mother's bloodline. To me, he seems about… six."