Soldier Scarred

by D. K. Holmberg

  More than that, how could he have allowed himself to have been manipulated again by Urik? It was as if the man had manipulated him from the very beginning.

  And yet, he suspected that he was supposed to be here. It was almost as if Tresten had intended for him to be here. If not Tresten, at least Novan and his father. Could they have known what was taking place?

  Endric had little doubt that Urik had planned something. Urik had connections, many of them to people and places that Endric had never been.

  When he turned a corner, he was face to face with two Teachers, both of them men he had seen when he had come here with Senda.

  “Belson,” Endric said.

  The elderly Teacher eyed him with a dark glare. “Why have you returned, Endric, son of Dendril?”

  “A mistake. And it’s one that I’m going to need your help to correct.”

  “What kind of mistake?”

  “You have something from the priests. What is it?”

  “How do you know about this?”

  “I’ve been to the temple.”

  “You? They allowed an outsider into the temple?”

  “I had thought it merely happenstance, but now I’m not so sure.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I think Urik manipulated events to coerce me to help him.”

  “Help him with what?”

  “Help him reach the temple. And help him find the sculpture that was missing. I suspect it’s a sculpture the Teachers have discovered.”

  Belson shared a glance with the other man. “How is it that you know of this?”

  “As I said, I was manipulated.”

  And he didn’t think that he was manipulated now, though it was possible that he still was. It was possible that the Teachers were now using him, rather than Urik, though Endric didn’t think that likely. He thought that he was right, and thought that if anyone were using him, it was Urik. It had to be, especially given Urik’s history.

  “You have it, don’t you?”

  “There was a time when we had all of them.”

  That was the answer. The temple hadn’t had the sculptures, not before. “How long have you had them?”

  “A long time. The sculptures somehow influence the mountain and cause the volcano to erupt.”

  “If they are responsible for it, then how did these others manage to acquire them?”

  Belson shook his head. “They shouldn’t have known. None should have known. We have kept them hidden, scattered throughout Salvat. We have kept them secret.”

  “Well, someone discovered them. And they have been returning them to the temple.”

  “We know. The trembling has told us where they’ve gone. Only, we don’t know how to find the temple.”

  “I do.”

  The two Teachers glanced at each other before looking back at Endric. “If we can prevent them from taking the last, we can avoid anything worse.”

  “How do they work? They’re made of teralin, and it’s neutral, so how is it that they influence the volcano in such a way?” Endric asked.

  “I don’t have that answer. There are any mysteries to teralin that we don’t have the answer to. All I know is that the sculptures have prevented the volcano from erupting.”

  “Why would they exist?” Endric asked.

  “They were created as a way to demonstrate the power of the gods. Long ago, the people of Salvat realized that they didn’t need the reminder of the power of the gods.”

  Belson guided them through the halls and stopped in a wide storage room. There were five bodies—all Teachers—lying around the room. There was no sign of Urik or Pendin.

  “Was it here?” Endric asked.

  “The sculpture was here. We kept ours stored in this location. We should have gathered the others and kept them here, but we did not.”

  “Where were the others stored?”

  “Throughout Salvat and other places. They were scattered when we realized what they did.”

  And Urik had figured out a way to bring them back together.

  Now that he’d found the last sculpture, Endric had little doubt about where they would go, but transporting a sculpture like that—especially as heavy as it was—would be difficult.

  Could he intervene?

  Maybe he didn’t have to, not the way he thought he might need to. There was another possibility.

  “The Teachers won’t fight, will they?”

  “We will not.”

  “The Denraen should be making their way here. I sent word, and I need you to lead the soldiers toward the mountain. Can you do that?”

  The Teachers glanced at each other before nodding. “We can do that. What is it that you intend to do? Do you intend to hunt down those responsible for this?”

  “I don’t need to.”

  “You don’t need to?”

  “There’s something else that I can do.” It would be difficult, and Endric wasn’t sure that he would make it in time, but if it worked, he might be able to prevent Urik from completing his plan.

  “I need the fastest horse that you have. And water. I will need lots and lots of water.”

  32

  It was dark when he reached the opening to the temple. Endric no longer intended to sneak through, not sure that it mattered. If anything, he wanted them to know that he had returned. He had been lied to and he no longer felt concern over the fact that he had harmed the priests. Endric hurried inside the temple, quickly reaching the parts that he had been in several times before. So far, he had encountered no one.

  He reached the chamber leading to the stairs.

  As he made his way down the stairs, he felt a rising uncertainty. Would he encounter any of the priests?

  If he did, what would he do?

  At the bottom of the stair, he entered the pool with the sculptures.

  They were all there. He walked around, glancing at each, resting his hand on them. They were warm, and something about that warmth seemed odd, especially as they were all neutral teralin.

  There was space for the missing sculpture, and he felt like a fool in that he had been the reason that Urik had discovered what had happened to the last one.

  As he was nearly all the way around the pool, priests began streaming their way into the area. They were led by the priest who had come with him, and Endric looked at him with anger burning in his eyes.

  “Not so secretive, is it?” he asked.

  The priest glared at him. “The rightful property of Salvat has been kept from us for too long by nonbelievers.”

  “You intend to destroy. It’s your intention that the mountain erupts.”

  “The people of Salvat have gone far too long without an understanding of the gods’ power.”

  “Have you thought about what will be lost? There are cities that will fall, destroyed by the volcano. That doesn’t bother you?”

  “They will be a sacrifice to the gods.”

  “I thought you said that only those who had faith were sacrificed.”

  “Only those who have no faith are offered for sacrifice,” the priest said.

  Endric looked around the chamber. The ground continued to tremble, and he knew that he might have been too late, and that if Urik managed to make it back here with the final sculpture, the mountain might erupt while he was in it. If that happened, there would be nothing he could do. He would be sacrificed along with everyone else on Salvat. Even the priests would likely succumb to the eruption.

  “I intend to stop you.”

  “When the final sculpture is returned, only the gods will be able to decide what happens next.”

  Endric rested his hand on the nearest sculpture, feeling the warmth. He pushed on it, changing the polarity of the teralin from neutral to positive. He wasn’t certain whether it would make a difference, but it had to, didn’t it?

  Could he shove the sculpture into the lava?

  Not on his own, and the moment that he started to attempt it, he suspected that the priests wo
uld begin attacking. For now, they thought that they had him trapped—and for the most part, they did.

  Could he reach the next sculpture?

  Endric began to slide around the wall but a particularly violent trembling shook the ground and sent him flying forward. He grabbed for one of the sculptures to keep from tumbling into the pool, but a priest near him was not so lucky and fell into the pit of lava, screaming.

  Endric glanced up, meeting the head priest’s eyes. As he did, he reached for the sculpture and pushed on it, shifting the polarity as he had with the other one.

  Somehow, he needed to find a way to make it to more of the sculptures. He didn’t know whether this would make a difference, but if he couldn’t head off Urik, and if he couldn’t prevent him from bringing the final sculpture here, at least he could attempt to change the influence of the teralin. Maybe he could even prevent them from precipitating the volcano’s eruption.

  The priest watched him, a smile pinned on his face. “You can feel it, can’t you. You can feel that the gods will soon bless us with their power. You can feel the effect of the strength they wish to grant us.”

  “I feel nothing other than your foolishness,” Endric said. “You will allow so many others to perish simply because you think that you need to show off the strength and power of the gods. Isn’t all of creation—everything around us—enough of a demonstration?”

  “Don’t listen to him. He has never had faith.”

  Endric glanced at the mouth of the cave and saw Urik entering. There were four men with him, and between them, they carried the sculpture.

  The ground trembled and sent Endric staggering. The priests had their backs pressed to the wall and managed to withstand the shifting of the ground. Endric used the trembling—and the distraction—to stagger forward and lunge for the next sculpture. Without waiting, he pressed through it, changing the polarity of the teralin. That was three. Would it make a difference?

  The ground continued to tremble, and he felt the overwhelming sense of the shaking, the way the earth threatened to heave him into the fiery pit. There would be no surviving that.

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked Urik.

  “I told you my priorities.”

  “And your priorities involve destroying the people of Salvat?”

  “My priorities involve demonstrating the strength of the gods. How could I not do that when they have shown me that such a demonstration was necessary? I thought the Conclave would hold the last sculpture, but it was the Teachers. Convenient that you provided the answer for me.”

  The ground trembled violently. Lava sprayed, the fountain shifting its course with the trembling. Maybe it didn’t matter that Endric was here. Maybe it didn’t matter that he had attempted to change the polarity. Maybe nothing mattered now that the sculptures were altogether.

  But why would the gods have wanted the volcanoes to erupt? Why would the teralin work in that way?

  Endric had to believe that shifting the polarity of teralin would change the outcome. He had to believe that he could prevent the catastrophe.

  The ground exploded, and he staggered forward. He reached another sculpture and pressed through it, shifting the polarity.

  Urik smiled at him. “Do you think that your efforts to change the polarity of teralin will make a difference?”

  “I’m willing to try it.”

  “With all of this neutral teralin all around us, do you think that a drop of positively charged teralin makes a difference?”

  It was the only hope that Endric had that anything that he might do would make a difference.

  Could he reach another sculpture?

  He had changed the polarity of four of them. At what point would he reach enough? At what point would he have changed the polarity of enough of the sculptures that it made a difference?

  Maybe it wouldn’t.

  He staggered toward another sculpture, but a pair of priests got in his way. The ground shook, making him question whether anything he was doing mattered, and he attempted to slash at them, trying to catch them with his sword. The shaking of the ground sent him staggering off to the side, but it also unsettled the priests. Endric slammed into one of them and the man staggered forward, reaching for something—anything—to keep from falling into the pit, but he failed. The other man turned his attention to Endric, and Endric pushed him into the lava.

  He grasped the sculpture and pushed through it, shifting the polarity.

  “How many do you think you can do this with?” Urik asked.

  “All of them,” Endric said.

  “And when that fails to work?” Urik asked.

  “I intend to continue fighting,” Endric said.

  Urik came toward him and grinned. “I doubt you will have the opportunity. You managed to be surprisingly effective before, but it is unlikely that you will succeed again. How many priests do you think you can stop by yourself? How many do you think you can fight when they come at you from all directions? How many do you think—”

  “You should pay better attention,” Endric said.

  Urik turned, and as he did, there was a torrent of activity near the mouth leading into the pool. Soldiers streamed in, Denraen all of them.

  Swords flashed, and the priests were pushed back.

  Urik spun from Endric and teetered on the ledge for a moment.

  His eyes widened.

  Endric reached for Urik, but the man fell.

  Urik spun, his arms flailing as he plunged into the lava. The ground shook violently and Urik smiled as his body burst into flames.

  Within a moment, the priests were brought under control and there wasn’t anything for Endric to do. Instead, he made a circuit around the statues, touching each of them and changing the polarity. When he finished with the last, he questioned whether that would make a difference.

  “Endric,” he heard.

  He turned and wasn’t surprised to see Novan approaching. The historian was tall, and his face was almost haggard, yet his piercing eyes seemed to take in everything in a single glance, as if knowing what Endric had just experienced. He held onto a long staff that radiated the sense of teralin.

  “Historian. Why am I not surprised to see you here?”

  “You found the temple.”

  “Is that why you encouraged me to come here?”

  Novan smiled sadly. “Encourage might be a bit strong.”

  “You told me that I needed to bring Tresten to Salvat so that he could rest with the Conclave. How is that a bit strong?”

  Novan shrugged. “Perhaps it isn’t a bit strong. Perhaps it is as strong as it needed to be. And yes, I did encourage you to bring Tresten to Salvat, but it was his idea.”

  Endric frowned. Sweat beaded on his brow and he let out a long sigh as he looked around the cavern. “Tresten, and not my father?”

  “Your father only did what Tresten asked of him.”

  “And when did Tresten ask it?”

  “After he passed.”

  Endric shook his head. “He really isn’t gone, is he? Is he the god the Conclave claims?”

  Novan looked around the pool, feeling the heat radiating from it, and took a deep breath before shaking his head. “No. He is not gone. He never was.”

  “So you used me. Both of you used me.”

  Even his father had used him. That might have been the most upsetting of all. How could his father have used him to do this? What purpose was there?

  “You have questions. I will provide answers, but not here.”

  “Where?”

  “Come with me. Answers will come.”

  33

  Endric sat in the library at the Conclave, ignoring the steaming mug of tea resting on the table in front of him. If it were ale, he might feel differently about it, but the tea was bitter, and the hint of mint mixed with honey did nothing to take that away.

  He looked across the table at Senda. She had mostly recovered, fatigue still lingering with her so that she became more tired than u
sual. She’d been quiet, more introspective as she struggled with what her limitations might mean. Pendin rested in one of the Conclave rooms, recovering from Urik’s attack.

  Endric sighed. “Are we not going to talk?”

  “I don’t know what to say. I don’t like the fact that you had to rescue me.”

  Endric laughed. “Is that what this is about?”

  “Should it be about something else?”

  “You do recognize that you were the one to save me. Were it not for you, and what you did for me, I would’ve drowned.”

  “And yet, I was the one who almost drowned.”

  “Because you were attacked by a mythical creature.”

  She looked down at her hands and breathed out heavily. “I was supposed to ensure that you followed Urik. And I failed.”

  Endric hadn’t known until then whether she had been a part of his father’s plan, and wasn’t surprised that she was. “Were you involved in the planning?”

  “Peripherally. I was tasked with keeping an eye on you and was warned that Urik might attempt something that would require that you find him. I thought that I would be able to help. I have failed the Denraen.”

  “This was not about the Denraen.”

  Endric jerked around at the sound of Tresten’s voice. He stood with a jolt when he saw the elderly Mage framed in the doorway. He was dressed in a gray cloak and his eyes looked nearly as tired as Senda’s.

  “What was this about, then?”

  “That is how you would greet me?”

  “After you used me, how would you expect me to greet you? You could have asked.”

  “The deception was not for you. The deception was meant for Urik.”

  “Why?”

  Tresten took a seat and rested his elbows on the table, looking from Endric to Senda. “I would imagine that you had some conversations with Urik during your journey?”

  “We had some,” Endric said.

  “And I would imagine that you learned what motivates him.”

  “You knew about his commitment to the gods?”

  “Urik has long been a unique individual. When he betrayed the Denraen, I thought I understood. I thought it had everything to do with his family, but that was not it. He felt that he had somehow disappointed the gods and began to search for ways that he could gain their favor once more.”