Senda jerked her head over to look at Endric. “That’s where you are going? You’re carrying the Mage’s body to Salvat? You know the tradition with the Magi. It’s certainly not to take their body to an island south of here.”
“Tresten is… unique. Which means his needs are unique. We wouldn’t ask this of anyone, which is why Endric needs to go.”
“Needs to go? What he needs is to return to the Denraen, and what he needs is to resume his service. He has been gone long enough. He’s practically no longer one of the Denraen.”
Novan leaned forward and tapped his staff slightly on the ground. It rang out with a sharp crack, and this time when it flashed with a surge of light, Endric was certain he didn’t imagine it.
“No. He is no longer simply one of the Denraen. Now he has become something else. Something much more. And what he has become is critically important. As is his task.”
“And what is this task? What makes it so important?”
“The Conclave needs Endric to return Tresten’s body to Salvat because it is possible that Tresten still lives.”
2
The sea splashed around the narrow-hulled ship, sending saltwater spray over the deck and leaving it slick. Endric stood at the railing, gripping it tightly, afraid to let go. He’d already slipped once and nearly gone overboard. He could swim, but he didn’t want to risk the danger of the sea.
Urik stood more comfortably near the bow. He barely rested one of his hands on the railing, seemingly unmindful of the constant swells that threatened to lift and carry him overboard. A perpetual smile remained on his face and he stared out at the open waves as if to find some secret there.
“I wish he didn’t seem as if he were having so much fun,” Senda said.
Endric turned his attention toward her and found her leaning over the railing, heaving violently. He was surprised that she struggled so much with the chop. He’d thought Senda had more experience with sailing than this, but she had been the most affected by seasickness.
“At least one of us should be.”
“I’d rather it were you than him.”
A massive swell slammed into the ship, sending Senda sliding back a few steps. She gripped the rail with a white-knuckled hold and breathed slowly, as if trying to prevent herself from vomiting. Likely that was exactly what she had to do.
“Captain said you could go below deck.”
Senda arched a brow at him. “And do what? It’s worse when I can’t see what’s coming. At least this way I can brace myself and I’m able to try and limit how much it’s getting to me.”
Endric forced a sympathetic smile. She might think she was doing better above deck, but he’d heard the other sailors chuckling to themselves about the weak-legged woman and her inability to handle the sea. More than once, he had been forced to intercede before one of them thought to say something unfortunate to Senda. Unfortunate for them, probably. Senda might not be feeling well, but there was nothing weak about her, and he had little doubt that even in her current state, she would have no trouble taking care of these men.
“It should only be a few more days,” Endric said.
They’d been sailing for three already, having departed the Port of Gomald, keeping Tresten’s body wrapped in heavy cloths, concealing the fact that they carried a Mage with them. In that time, Endric still hadn’t worked out how exactly Tresten could still be alive. Novan seemed to think that it was possible through some Mage power that he possessed, though Endric had a hard time seeing it. He’d seen no evidence of life. There was no breathing and every time he had checked for a heartbeat, he’d found none.
“How are we supposed to find where we need to go?” Senda asked, wiping a hand across her mouth. Endric pretended not to notice. If he said anything, it would only upset her even more, and he was smart enough to know that he shouldn’t do that to her.
“We’ve been given directions,” Endric said, touching his pocket where they resided. Novan had given them to him, instructing him to keep them safe, but even with them, he wasn’t entirely certain where they were meant to go. Somewhere on Salvat, but the island was enormous. There were several cities, but it was otherwise sparsely populated. The massive Oluantiin Mountain rose at the center, a barren and desolate volcano that had not exploded in recent memory, but the steam rising from the center of it made it seem as if it might erupt again at any time.
“I still question why you feel the need to do this.”
Endric sighed. He wasn’t certain that he knew why he felt such a strong need, other than the fact that if Tresten lived, he owed it to the Mage to help him. Tresten had been a valuable advisor to him over the years, but that was not the reason that Endric really wanted to help him.
Living in Vasha had given him a unique experience. He had seen Magi die before, so was not completely distressed by that—not as others might be—but if Tresten still lived, there was a different power than even he had seen. Given all that Tresten had done for him over the years, wasn’t it worth it to learn?
“And I’ve told you that you didn’t have to come.”
“Dendril allowed this of me.”
If his father allowed it, it meant there was something more to Senda’s journey. There always was. “Do you know why?”
Senda stared at him. “Does it matter?”
“With my father?” He grunted. “Yes. It matters.” Maybe it didn’t need to matter. Maybe all that mattered was that his father intended for him to reach Salvat to work on behalf of the Conclave, though Endric wasn’t certain that was it.
“What did you think that I would do?”
“I thought that you would continue to lead the Denraen.”
Her brow furrowed. “I do continue to lead. For me to be an effective leader, I need to understand everything that I can about the world.”
“And yet you objected when I felt the same way.”
“It wasn’t that I objected, it was that you did it for personal gain.”
“And you aren’t?” he asked, arching a brow.
She shook her head. “This is not for me. This is about doing what I can for the Denraen, being better equipped to serve our needs.”
Endric studied her for a moment. Then he smiled. “I suppose that makes sense. Eventually you will be asked to lead, and—”
She laughed, cutting off as another wave struck the ship, sending her sliding once more. Endric grabbed her wrist and dragged her back to the railing so that she could hold tightly to it. She nodded, the only thanks he would receive.
“Is that what you believe? Do you think that somehow I will replace your father as general of the Denraen?”
He shrugged. It didn’t bother him that she would. It was better that it were Senda than many others who could have assumed command of the Denraen. “I assumed that since you serve as Raen, you would take that title,” he said.
She sniffed, bracing herself as another wave struck the ship. This one didn’t affect her quite as much, and she managed to hold on to the railing and prevent herself from sliding too far back. “Then you assumed wrong. Besides, do you think that I would even be able to defeat Dendril for command?”
“It doesn’t only have to be the challenge,” he said.
She shook her head. “It doesn’t have to be, but traditionally the challenge is the way the command has been transferred. Do you think that your father would not have transferred command to you had you won your challenge?”
The more that he understood about his father, the more he wondered whether his father would have even accepted the challenge if he feared Endric might have beaten him. Dendril probably had planned for all eventualities, and likely had known that there was no chance for Endric to beat him. Considering the easy way that Dendril had of fighting, there would not have been.
Now might be a different matter.
Endric had learned significantly more in the time since he’d challenged his father. Could he possibly defeat him now were he to challenge him again? Endric didn’
t know, and more importantly, didn’t want to know. He wasn’t prepared to lead the Denraen. Now that he understood more about the world, he wasn’t certain when—or if—he would be.
It’s what made Senda a more likely successor than Endric.
With her connection to Listain’s spies, she would have heard things that Endric had barely begun to understand. He might have experience with the Antrilii and with the groeliin, but that was nothing like Senda’s experience with the political machinations found in other places. He knew nothing about the politics of the southern continent and barely understood the politics in the north.
“I think Dendril knew I had no chance of ever defeating him. That’s the only reason he accepted my challenge.”
“And why do you think that I would have a chance of beating him? You’ve faced me in sparring sessions, and you’ve beaten me.”
“Just because I’m the most fit to fight doesn’t mean I’m the most fit to lead.”
Senda stared at him, seeming to see something about him for the first time. He wondered what it was that she saw when she looked at him. They had known each other a long time, and he didn’t think that he could surprise her anymore. He certainly didn’t want to surprise her.
“Dendril will be replaced eventually,” Senda said.
“I know that.”
“Do you? I think you believe it because we’ve talked about it, and because you know how old your father is, but do you really believe that Dendril will one day be replaced?”
“What are you getting at, Senda?”
She shook her head. “I think your father senses that he nears a time of transition. And when he’s gone, he expects another to take his place.”
“I thought you didn’t think that person would be me.”
“It’s not that I didn’t think that person would be you, it’s that you’ve been away from Vasha long enough that you lost your understanding of the soldiers. I don’t know how you can lead, not without returning and gaining the men’s trust. Why do you think that I wanted you to return so badly?”
“That’s the only reason?”
She breathed out heavily. “You know that’s not the only reason. I have to think about more than myself. As Raen, it’s my responsibility to think about the men I lead, even if that means helping to find my superior’s successor.”
Endric considered her for a moment, understanding coming to him. All of this talk about his father’s plans left him with the realization that even more had been planned than he knew. “My father asked you to come, didn’t he?”
He wasn’t certain whether she would answer. Dendril often had plans upon plans. There had been many examples of this over the years, and the most recent was that Endric wasn’t entirely certain whether or not Dendril had known what Urik intended when he had coordinated the Raver attack. Had he intended for Urik to challenge him? Endric hadn’t thought so at the time, but maybe he had. Could Dendril have intended for Endric to challenge Urik so that Urik could be captured?
The idea seemed implausible, but not entirely impossible. Urik posed a threat, and would Dendril have risked himself when he thought he might have another soldier capable of handling that threat? He’d already seen how Urik had manipulated the attack leading to Listain’s death, so it wasn’t a far stretch to believe that he would have figured out some way to coax Endric into attacking, especially with Tresten’s involvement.
Senda stared at him, unblinking. Her lack of answer was answer enough.
Endric had thought their argument had been only about how much he could reveal of the Conclave, but perhaps that was the beginning of their argument. He didn’t care for the idea that he was being manipulated. It was one thing for his father—and even for Tresten—to manipulate him. It was quite another for Senda to be involved in it.
“Perhaps when we reach the shores of Salvat, you should return to Vasha,” Endric said.
“Endric, you don’t understand.”
“Don’t I? I’ve proven willing to serve the Conclave and haven’t questioned that, recognizing that there is much for me to learn, but I’m not willing to have my hand forced. If I am to serve the Conclave as it seems Tresten intended, I need to do so willingly.” He stared at Senda, noting the set to her jaw and the intensity in the way that she watched him. He saw the similarity to Listain in a way that he never had before. “I would appreciate it if you did not try to force me in this way.”
“I’m not the one trying to force you in this way.”
“My father, then? He serves the Conclave, so he recognizes what must be done.”
“Your father served the Conclave. Perhaps he still does, but he also recognizes the needs of the Denraen. You are needed there, Endric.”
He had thought he understood the disagreement between Novan and Dendril the night before they had parted ways. They had been arguing, though had been doing so quietly. Now he suspected they had been fighting over Endric’s role with the Conclave.
“This is what Tresten wanted for me.”
“It might be, but what is it that you want?”
It was a question that he came back to frequently. What did he want?
For a time, he wanted only to be a soldier, then he recognized there was more for him and that he needed to do more—he needed to be more. When he had gone to the Antrilii and learned about his ancestry, he thought he knew what else he needed to do, but even in that, he was unsatisfied. Understanding the Conclave had given him a greater sense of purpose, but even that was incomplete. Yet he didn’t doubt what needed to happen, especially if Tresten still lived.
“I will return to the Denraen, but I will do it on my terms,” Endric said.
“And what are those terms?”
He sighed, shaking his head, barely noticing the way the wave crashed on the ship this time. Senda gripped the railing tightly, clenching her jaw as she strained to ignore it. “I don’t know yet,” he said and turned away from her, looking out to the sea and searching for sign of landfall—and sign of answers that he still did not have.
3
It had been little over an hour since they first saw evidence of land, and the captain had skillfully guided them through dangerous rocks that jutted out of the sea, managing to navigate around hazards that Endric barely saw before they appeared.
Rain cascaded down upon them, coming down in sheets, but Endric remained on the bow, unwilling to move. He stared at the shore in the distance, wondering if he would find the answers he sought when they reached Salvat.
Senda had been quiet for the remaining journey. He could tell that she wanted to say something but was resisting that urge. It was probably for the best, as Endric wasn’t certain what he might say if she did attempt to speak to him. Would he snap at her?
“It’s been years since I’ve visited Salvat,” Urik said, taking a place near Endric along the railing. He had shown no additional sign of discomfort during their journey, practically pleased with the rollicking way the ship moved beneath them. Unlike Endric, Urik had even managed to eat. At least Endric had managed to keep water down. That was more than Senda could claim. She needed to get off the ship or he feared that she would become severely dehydrated. It was a wonder she hadn’t gotten more so already.
“How long ago was it that you came to Salvat?”
Urik glanced over at Endric. He displayed the same note of sadness that Endric often saw when he asked about the man’s past. Urik had suffered—that much was painfully clear—and Endric suspected he had only brushed up against the barest edge of just how much he had been through.
“After I lost my family, I… searched.”
“Searched? What did you search for?”
“Answers. Faith. Anything that I could cling to.”
“For what reason?”
An annoyed smile crossed his face. “To determine whether I should keep living, Endric.”
Endric couldn’t imagine reaching a point where he had to decide whether he wanted to keep living or not, but what Uri
k had seen must have been tragic enough for him to have to make that decision. What an awful choice, and it was one that Endric was thankful he had never confronted.
“Why Salvat?” he asked.
“Salvat has many Teachers here. I thought that perhaps I could learn and that there might be something they could teach me, perhaps a way to understand why I had been forced to go through all that I had.”
“What did you find?”
“I found the Teachers, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“And did they help you?”
“Not as much as I hoped they would. With some of the Teachers, their knowledge is limited. They are descended from the Magi, so they have a different understanding of the world than many, but not all take the time and effort to learn how they can support the world.”
“There had to have been some who were helpful to you.”
“There were some,” he agreed and fell silent, watching the shore as it came closer. They tacked carefully, making their way around massive fingers of rock, never getting so close that Endric felt they were in danger, but much closer than he was comfortable with.
“Hundreds of ships have sank trying to reach the shores,” Urik said.
“And still the captain is willing to guide us in,” Endric answered.
“You pay a man enough and he’s willing to risk his own safety. How else do you think I was able to acquire the Ravers?”
“I thought you offered them the promise of power.”
Urik shrugged. “Some power, but most didn’t know anything about the Deshmahne other than the fact that they believed the dark priests existed. When I brought them teralin, some of them began to feel its effects, but not all.”
That surprised Endric. He had thought that everyone was susceptible to teralin. He hadn’t realized that it wouldn’t influence everyone in the same way. “Was that how you decided who would be given the swords?”
“The swords? Most of those went to men with the most skill—or at least, the most potential. Not all were able to use the power of teralin in the same way. For that matter, I didn’t know that I would be able to reach teralin in that way. It was as much a surprise to me as it was to each of them.”
Soldier Scarred Page 2
