Tae wished he had divined more, though he had not intended to tell everything. It all needed refinement that could only come with time. "As far as I can tell, the two you captured are foot soldiers.They refer to their commanders as the Kjempemagiska." Tae assumed the accent of the pirates as he spoke the word. "And they seem to hold them in great awe."
Tae looked down at his plate. He had to take just a couple more mouthfuls before he went back to the hell of Bearn's dungeon. He stuffed a piece of bread into his mouth, chewed, savored, and swallowed.
Griff clamped his lips shut and waited for Tae to finish. Only after the bread completely disappeared did he speak. "Tae, do you really think you can learn more from these… pirates?"
"I'm sure I can." Tae harbored no doubts. "I just need more time."
"Don't go back." Matrinka spoke so softly, Tae could barely hear her. "Please don't."
Tae understood her point. He did not relish returning to living like a beast in a cage, antagonizing deadly neighbors and earning the ire of the guards. Age seemed to compound everything he despised as a youth. The pain hurt worse and lasted longer, his reflexes seemed slower, his demeanor less useful, and his accuracy less lethal. On the other hand, he had gained in wisdom and patience. Those things would see him through the necessary hardships. "Matrinka, pardon me if I sound like I'm using you as a common servant; but, could you get me another piece of that wonderful bread?"
Matrinka grinned and rushed to do so. She had obviously put together the feast to soothe and please him. "I'd love to." She hurried to the door.
Tae waited only until it clicked closed behind her to climb out of his chair and walk toward Rantire. "Hit me," he said.
"What?" the word startled from Griff, and he half-rose from his seat.
Tae had eyes only for Rantire. "Hit me, Renshai. I can't come back looking better than when I left. The guards, and my cell mates, believe I'm getting-"
Rantire moved like a shadow. Tae barely had time to blink before the Renshai's fist filled his face and agony blasted through his nose. Driven backward, Tae became tangled in the empty chair and toppled to the floor. It scraped his ear and left arm, barked his right shin. Tae scrambled free, only to find his hands, cloak, and tattered shirt covered with blood.
"Damn it!" Tae shouted, catching the flow in his cupped hands. He tried to staunch the bleeding with a fold of the cloak, but it hurt too much to add pressure. "I didn't mean for you to break my stupid nose!"
Rantire looked at Tae, arms folded across her chest, her lips pursed in a self-satisfied smile. "If you don't want something done right, don't ask a Renshai."
Tae knew he had taken his chances going to Rantire, but he also knew Darris and Griff would not have had the nerve to harm him at all. They might even have stopped Rantire had they known what he planned to do. But he had thought she might show some restraint. At least, as a woman, she might not prove so strong.
The door opened, and Matrinka slipped inside, displaying a fresh piece of bread and a mug of something steaming. Her eyes widened, she let out an outraged scream, and dropped food and drink. The mug bounced, splashing hot liquid across the floor, furniture, and Tae's ankles. Still focused on the pain in his face, Tae barely noticed the burn.
Matrinka slammed the door and rounded on her husband. "I leave for one moment, and you attack him?"
Gingerly, Tae clamped hold of his aching nose.
"We didn't attack him," Griff explained. "He asked Rantire to hit him."
Matrinka's head swiveled toward the Renshai and her cocksure expression. The queen's hands balled to fists. For an instant, Tae thought the peaceful Bearnide might actually start a fight; but Matrinka's hands loosened, and she tended to Tae instead. "You're an idiot," she said in exasperation. "You're both stark raving idiots."
Under the circumstances, Tae could hardly disagree.
The miles disappeared beneath Silver Warrior's sure white hooves, now speckled with mud and loam. Wind tangled Ra-khir's red locks around his knight's plumed hat, and his cape chased him, snapping as his pace rose and fell in comparison to the wind. The trees sailed past him, on either side of the road, and he admired the leaves, buds, and flowers as if awakening from a long, deep sleep. Each branch seemed crystal clear, the leaves showed spidery veins he had never noticed before, and the rich purples, pinks, and yellows of the petals were bright enough to hurt his eyes. It seemed as if the entire world had changed while he slept, oblivious.
Oblivious. The word seemed to suit him. What am I missing? What did I say? What did I do? The last week had passed in an empty blur. Ra-khir had performed his duties in a blind, deaf trance. He knew he had groomed Silver Warrior, because the horse still whickered at the sight of him, and white hairs clung to every set of clothing. He knew he must have taken in food and water; he was still alive, still breathing. His body had taken over the dull routine without need for mind or spirit.
The agony of his loss had not left him. It still twinged at the slightest memory of his beloved Kevral.Yet she no longer wholly occupied his thoughts. Saviar and Calistin, his sons, had left him in the dark of night, without so much as an explanation or even a "farewell." He knew his words and wishes had no power to keep them safe; yet he could not help feeling as if the crazy superstitious notion could somehow manage what he had physically failed to do.
Did I insult them? Ra-khir hoped his suggestion that they remain in Erythane had not violated some deeply ingrained Renshai tenet. Did I drive them away? He believed he understood the Renshai as few ganim ever could. Most thought them lawless and unstructured, the very definition of chaos. Nearly all of the Renshai disparaged the Knights of Erythane for their rigid adherence to a code of honor. Yet few understood that the Renshai, themselves, had conventions equally unyielding and strict.
Renshai did fight without pattern or strategy, but were consistent in this observance. They all shunned armor or adornment that might deflect a blow, believing that depending upon anything but one's own skill in battle was tantamount to cowardice. They insisted on making every member of the tribe ambidextrous, they refused any weapon not a sword, and they forced sword-training even onto their infants. Complete and utter attention to the sword was their only way: they demanded the most enduring iron, the finest temper, and their devotion became like that between priest and deity. A sword touching ground was a sword gravely dishonored. And every single Renshai sought Valhalla as his final reward.
Ra-khir had done his best to understand and support every detail of the Renshai way, yet he had clearly failed. His wife was dead. His sons hated him for reasons he could not fathom. Saviar and Calistin had done worse than abandon him; they had not found him worthy of a simple "good-bye."
Or did they? Ra-khir wondered if he had mislaid the conversation. He had lost track of time so often since Kevral's death. Things happened in a floating fog, done but not remembered. Reality and dream mingled inseparably, but neither brought him the knowledge he needed. His sons had not said a word before departing. They were good young men, raised right, which meant the fault fell on their father. And that left Ra-khir with the glaring question that had troubled him since before he had left Erythane. What did I say? What did I do to make them hate me?
Ra-khir could not recall ever feeling so alone, so very lost. He had faced demons and armies, treachery and betrayal, even stood on the perfect fields of Asgard, spoken to gods, and looked upon Valhalla. All of these things he had done with trepidation, yet with courage. Kevral's death had shaken him as nothing else ever had, and it seemed so very senseless. She had courted death even before he had first met her, when he believed her a boy, taunting him on the knights' practice grounds. Like all Renshai, she had rushed recklessly into every battle, desperately seeking the glorious death that would earn her eternity in Valhalla.