Soldier Scarred

by D. K. Holmberg

  “How did the people of Salvat ever find this place?”

  That was a question Endric hadn’t considered before. How had they discovered the fountain of fire? Carving it out of the inside of the mountain would’ve been difficult enough, but reaching in the first place? They either had known it had existed or the other possibility was that they were responsible for creating it.

  That seemed even less likely. That attributed more prowess to the priests than what he thought possible. Though, could it be that the gods had created this place?

  “Where do we go now?” Pendin asked.

  Endric motioned to the path that wound down the inside of the mountain.

  “Where does the other way go?” Pendin asked.

  Endric glanced over. He hadn’t given that much thought. There was another path that led higher, and neither he or Urik had taken the time to walk along it, but since the temple seem to be below, there didn’t seem to be any reason for them to have gone up.

  Endric turned to Urik. “I think we need to know, don’t you? It’s possible that the fake Conclave went that way to hide.”

  “We should stay together. All of us,” Urik said.

  “If there’s something up there, we need to take the time to discover what it is.”

  Urik looked down, peering over the edge and into the depths of the pit. From here, they couldn’t see the temple. He worried that if they did make their way down to the temple, they would be ambushed. Heading up was the better option. Certainly, it was the safer option.

  They started up the path. It was just as steep as the path leading down, and he felt the strain of the effort as he followed it up. It wound around the inside of the chamber. Heat radiated from the lava as it spilled down, and it was an oppressive sense, one that was almost overwhelming. How long would he be able to withstand the heat? How long would Pendin?

  “How high does this go?” Pendin whispered. He was breathing heavily, though not as heavily as Endric would have expected considering how much they had climbed throughout the day.

  “We didn’t come this way. I don’t know how high the cavern stretches.”

  “Do you think this path leads to the top of the cavern?”

  “They would likely have followed this,” Urik said.

  “Who would?” Endric asked, glancing back.

  “The first priests of Salvat. They would have followed this pathway, and they likely used it to get closer to the source of fire.”

  “How do you know so much about these priests?” Pendin asked.

  “I am only taking what I have learned of other religions and applying it.”

  “And you thought that the cells were the priests’ residence.”

  “I didn’t say that I was always right,” Urik snapped.

  The path began to narrow slightly. It was subtle at first, happening so gradually that Endric wasn’t certain that he was detecting it, but the more they climbed, the clearer it was that the width of the path continued to diminish. Whereas before, they could walk side by side, now it was cramped, with Endric pressed shoulder to shoulder with Pendin, and eventually to the point where Pendin fell back, not wanting to be so close. After a little while longer, they walked in a single file, with Endric taking the lead.

  “How much higher do you think we need to go?” Pendin asked.

  “This leads somewhere,” Endric said.

  “Somewhere, but where? Why would they have a place like this?”

  Endric had no answers. He paused to take a drink, but it did nothing to fully relieve his thirst. He glanced over at Urik, and he seemed to be doing well, not struggling nearly as much as Endric felt he was.

  The pathway continued to narrow, and Endric worried that he would be getting to the point where he wouldn’t be able to continue. At some point, continuing upward would be unsafe. He looked up, trying to decide whether it was worth it to continue climbing, before deciding that they should. Others would have had to have come this way.

  After another few loops around the inside of the cavern, the path leveled out. And then it stopped.

  Endric looked down. From where he stood, all he saw was the fountain of flame pouring into the depths below. He couldn’t imagine how far the fall would be. It seemed an impossible distance, much too far to survive—that was if the flames didn’t consume him when he did.

  “This is it?” Pendin asked.

  Urik had slipped past them and he ran his hands along the wall, moving carefully.

  “This is where it ends,” Endric said.

  “Why?” Pendin asked.

  Endric shook his head. “I don’t know. I thought we would find something else here.” They hadn’t even seen signs of anyone coming this direction. The pathway had appeared dusty and looked as if it hadn’t been traveled in years. Considering what he had seen of the priest, maybe it had not been.

  “Sacrifice,” Urik said.

  Endric turned to him.

  Urik’s eyes had grown wide. “I think I understand why this is here.”

  “Do you see something that you can read?” Pendin asked.

  “He can’t read the ancient Salvat language,” Endric said.

  “I don’t need to read the ancient language in order to understand why they would have a ledge to nowhere here. This was a place of sacrifice. I suspect that the ancients of Salvat thought that they could appease the gods by sending nonbelievers into the flames below.”

  Pendin gasped. “It would be a horrible way to go.”

  “Other religions have relied upon sacrifice over the years, but most have abandoned it long ago,” Urik said.

  “Sacrifice for what? What purpose would there be in forcing a sacrifice?”

  “There were likely many reasons,” Urik said. “The easiest to believe is that they thought they could calm the volcano and keep the gods from being angry. What better way than to send nonbelievers into the depths below?”

  “Not nonbelievers.”

  The voice came from the ramp below. It was harsh, as if the man who spoke had his throat burned by fire.

  “They forced those who believed to sacrifice themselves. Unfortunately, it was never effective. Which is why I think it’s time to try your approach and see if it will make a difference sending a few nonbelievers into the flames below us.”

  28

  Endric unsheathed his sword. Pendin and Urik did the same.

  Endric stepped forward and studied the man who approached. He was thick with muscle and his eyes danced with reflected firelight. He was dressed in what appeared to be black leather, but when he moved, the colors seemed to ripple, practically glowing. He held a long staff that reminded him of Novan.

  “Who are you?” Endric asked.

  “Who? You have come to my temple and you demand answers as to who I am? I think the better question is who are you?”

  “Your temple?” He glanced over at Urik. There was something about this man that reminded Endric of the soldiers they had fought off. “Were you with them?” Endric asked.

  “With them?”

  “The others. Were you with the others who tried to break into the temple?”

  “There have been many who have tried to reach our temple. Most have failed over the years, but you are now responsible for bringing others into my domain.”

  He took another step forward and Endric noted a staff glowing with flames. He wasn’t certain if it was only imagined or if the glowing was real.

  “There was another in the temple,” Endric said. “What of her?”

  “Ah. You mean the acolyte. There was a time when we once had many acolytes, but they are fewer and fewer. And now…”

  Endric frowned. “You were going to force her to sacrifice herself?”

  “There would have been no force. The sacrifice must be voluntary, or the gods are displeased.”

  “I think sacrifice displeases the gods.”

  “What do you know? You come from outside my lands. You would know nothing about Salvat and what it takes to
appease the great gods of this place.”

  “I know fear. I saw it when we encountered her.” Endric thought that he understood. She had been trying to hide. She hadn’t wanted to sacrifice herself, though she must not have been given much of a choice. “Who were those men?” Endric asked.

  The man’s face clouded in irritation. “Nothing but an inconvenience.”

  They were the reason that Endric had come, but he wondered if perhaps he had interpreted things wrong. Could it be that the man had come for another reason? Could it be that he had understood it wrong?

  No. They had attacked him. That much he knew he had the right of.

  He needed more information, but with the priest approaching, holding his staff the way that he did, Endric wasn’t sure that he would have the opportunity to obtain more information.

  “We will be going,” he said.

  “I think not. As I said, the gods are unsettled. They grow angry, and there is one thing that will satisfy them.”

  “We aren’t going anywhere,” Endric said. “We don’t intend to sacrifice ourselves for your gods. If you attempt to force it, you will find that I am not so easy to dissuade.”

  The priest sneered at Endric. Would it matter if he attacked these priests? He had enough concerns about their presence in Salvat that he wasn’t sure whether or not there was anything to be concerned about where the priests were involved. At least he thought that he understood the concerns others had—it was more about angering the priests, not the gods. If the priests were so willing to harm others, and willing to attack and force them to sacrifice themselves, it would be difficult for anyone within Salvat to speak against them.

  More priests appeared on the path leading up to the ledge. All of them were dressed the same way, and all of them stood imposingly, blocking their exit. Endric knew that they could escape, but it would require fighting, forcing his way free. Was that what he wanted?

  He didn’t know. If they didn’t attempt to fight their way free, what would happen to the acolytes who had been brought here, people who had mistakenly believed that the priests were trying to help them?

  The mountain rumbled, shaking Endric. He stumbled. Pendin caught him, pulling him back.

  “You can see that the gods are angry,” the priest said.

  “The gods aren’t angry. The volcano threatens to erupt.”

  “And who controls the volcano? Do you believe that anyone beyond the gods can control it? Do you not believe that there is power you have not yet observed? How can any of us know the gods?”

  “I have served the gods,” Urik said, stepping forward. “I don’t fear what they have asked of me.”

  Endric glanced over and looked on with shock as Urik stepped to the edge of the ledge and jumped.

  The priest smiled. “You had a believer with you. I would not have expected outsiders to have brought those with such faith with them, but it is good that you did. It will delay your own departure from this world a little.”

  Endric looked over at Pendin. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. Why had Urik been so willing to sacrifice himself? What did he think to accomplish in doing so?

  “I’m afraid that we will have to fight our way free,” Endric said.

  “I’m with you,” Pendin said.

  Endric turned to the priests, keeping his sword extended. He wasn’t eager to jump into this battle, but it seemed as if they were going to leave him little choice. “As I said, I have no intention of sacrificing myself to gods who have no interest in such a sacrifice.”

  “And you believe that you know what the gods want from you?”

  “I know that the gods—however they might exist—have no interest in seeing me throw myself from here. I know that doing so serves nothing and that it does nothing to change the eruption of the volcano.”

  “And yet, one of your companions felt otherwise.”

  “One of my companions was mistaken,” Endric said.

  “You may defeat me,” the priest started, “but do you think that you can stop all of us?” He motioned to the line of priests making a path along the ledge. Even if Endric managed to fight through one or others, would it even make a difference? He would have to fight through all of them, and all they needed to do to defeat him would be to push him back.

  The alternative was falling into the lava.

  Endric focused on Pendin. “Hold your ground.”

  Pendin’s eyes were wide, resignation written in them. Pendin understood that while they might fight, there was little chance for them to succeed. There were simply too many opposing them.

  In a surge, the priests came toward them.

  Endric fought, slashing with his sword, cutting down the first priest to approach. He wasn’t surprised that it was not the lead priest. That man stood off to the side, letting others move past him, sacrificing themselves first.

  He braced himself. Anything that would come at them would attempt to force them back, and every step backward put him in danger of slipping off the ledge. He had no intention of going over, not the way that Urik had, but resisting that would require him to fight.

  Next to him, Endric could practically feel Pendin bracing himself in a similar way. There was a grim sort of determination about him, a sense that radiated from his friend. Both knew that it was unlikely they would survive this.

  “Why did Urik jump?” Pendin grunted in between attacks.

  “I don’t know,” Endric said. He couldn’t think of any reason that he would have jumped unless he simply believed that it was so unlikely that they would succeed that he chose to sacrifice himself.

  When the next priest came, Endric was forced back a step.

  It was only a step, but he knew that a single step was the start of another, and then another. With each step, he would be forced to the edge, and then there would come a point where he had no choice but to fall. He didn’t think himself so strong that he could withstand that attack.

  “I’m sorry, Pendin.”

  “I’ve been happy to fight by your side,” Pendin said.

  He sensed a renewed push from the priests and he attempted to resist. He pushed back, creating space between himself and the nearest priest, readying for one last flurry of an attack.

  As he did, he realized there was something else taking place that he did not yet understand.

  It wasn’t that the priests were making one last push, it was more that there was agitation to them. But why? Why would they be agitated?

  “Keep fighting, Pendin. Something’s happening.” He wasn’t sure what it was, only that he had to hope that there was some way for them to get help. Could it be possible?

  As they fought, Endric heard a clatter of swords on swords.

  That came from farther down the pathway.

  Who was opposing the priests? Could there be someone there who actually was trying to help them? It seemed almost too much to hope for.

  He was forced back again, and he teetered.

  He was at the edge of the ledge, looking out over the mouth of the volcano. One misstep now and he would go teetering over and would disappear into the fiery abyss. There were many ways that Endric had thought he might die over the years, but falling into a fiery volcano had never been one of them. In his mind, he would have been bettered by someone facing him with the sword, or perhaps caught unaware by an arrow, or facing an onslaught of an enemy, an army of soldiers riding down. Never in his mind had he contemplated the possibility of falling into a volcano.

  “Endric!”

  It wasn’t Pendin calling to him. Pendin had managed to resist better than Endric and stood a step in front of him, facing the attack. The moment that Endric fell, he suspected Pendin would go with him. The attack would shift, turning to Pendin once Endric was down.

  But if it wasn’t Pendin calling to him, who was it?

  “Endric!”

  He almost hesitated, though such hesitation would be deadly. He recognized the voice. But why should he? Who was coming?
r />   “Can you see anything?” he hollered to Pendin.

  Pendin grunted and shrugged the nearest man off him, using the strength of his connection to the miners, throwing the man into the pit with a loud yell. When he did, he took a step forward. Endric mimicked what Pendin had done, marshaling his strength so that he could throw the nearest man back. He managed to step away from the ledge, gaining enough freedom that he could move forward, and when he did, he was shocked.

  “Urik?”

  He lowered his sword only a moment, but it was a moment more than he should have. The hesitation allowed one of the priests to barrel into him, sending him skittering backward. His footing slipped, and he tumbled—and knew as it happened that he would fall.

  As he fell, he closed his eyes and let the heat of the volcano envelop him.

  29

  Endric tumbled and crashed into rock, losing his breath as the collision knocked it from him.

  He was alive.

  How?

  He opened his eyes and saw the fountain of lava pouring out near him, but far enough away that it didn’t harm him. The ledge of rock stretched away from the wall, wide enough for him to land on it. It was smooth, as if carved, and he stared around, unable to comprehend what had happened.

  How was he alive?

  And how had Urik known about this?

  That was the logical explanation and the reason that Urik had likely willingly tossed himself from the ledge. He must have known that there was something here. Yet how?

  Endric scrambled to his feet, thankful that he still had his teralin sword. He clutched it tightly and looked for some way to get free.

  There was a rocky overhang nearby. He reached for it, grasping at the overhang, and pulled himself up. When he did, he realized that he was back on the path leading to the ledge.

  Endric scrambled forward. He reached the priests and found Urik and Pendin still fighting. Pendin had backed nearly to the ledge, and with his size, Endric wasn’t sure whether he would cause a collapse if he fell.

  Urik glanced over when Endric rejoined him. “You figured it out?” he asked.

  “Figured out what?”