Soldier Saved

by D. K. Holmberg

  “You did. The Denraen owe you a debt of gratitude. That is why I allowed you to go north.” He fell silent for a moment. “There will come a time, Endric, when you will be asked to do more than you have. You will be asked to give more than you have.”

  “I hope that time will not come too soon.”

  Dendril grunted. “Unfortunately, that time is now.”

  Endric frowned at his father.

  “You have served as en’raen. From the reports I received from Listain before his passing, you served well. Now I need for you to serve differently.”

  “How would you have me serve?” he asked.

  He didn’t expect his father to send him away from the city. That wouldn’t serve the Denraen, and there didn’t seem anything more for him to do to help lead. Would his father promote him to Raen? That was a possibility, though it was one that Endric didn’t feel he was particularly prepared—or equipped—for. Listain had always served as his father’s Raen, a position that he’d held longer than most. Endric didn’t know whether his father had chosen another to replace him, but hoped that he had so that Endric wouldn’t need to.

  “Something else draws my attention away,” he started, looking down at his ring again. What was Dendril not telling him about the Conclave? “I would ask you to watch over Urik.”

  Endric blinked. “Urik? That’s not a wise idea.”

  “Perhaps not, but you’re the only one who can. I need information from him, and I don’t think he will share with me.”

  “Then why would he share with me?”

  “Because he still views you the way that many of the soldiers do.”

  Endric watched him, wanting to object, but what was there for his objection? When he’d left Vasha before, he had gone as a man who had barely earned his commission. Endric had made sacrifices since then and had risked himself, but few of the Denraen would have known that.

  Even Urik probably wouldn’t have known that.

  It was a fact his father intended to take advantage of.

  Endric would have been impressed were it not for the fact that he was the one being used in such a way.

  He let out a long, frustrated sigh. What choice did he have, other than to do as his father—his commander—asked of him?

  “What would you have me do?”

  4

  Endric stood within the barracks, staring up at buildings that had once been his home. They still were, he supposed, though not in the way that they had been when he was younger. Then, he had been more interested in meeting the barest requirements of what it meant to be Denraen as long as it meant that he could fight. Now… he understood what it meant to be Denraen, and he understood what was asked of him, even if he wasn’t always the best at meeting those requirements.

  The barracks yard was filled with soldiers. Most worked with the sword, practiced their formations, or drilled in other ways, but some were groupings of soldiers heading out for patrol. Endric watched those with the most interest. That had been him once upon a time.

  “You’re just standing there.”

  Endric jumped and saw Senda watching him. Was that a mournful look in her eyes? His father had alluded to something that she hadn’t shared with him, and Endric wasn’t entirely certain what that was, though he worried that it had to do with all the time they’d spent apart. Had she moved on?

  He had not. She had remained within his thoughts; the one steady desire he had through everything had been his interest in getting back to her. But, he had been gone so long that perhaps she had no choice but to move on. It was something they would have to talk about, though now didn’t seem the time—or the place—to do so.

  “I met with Dendril,” Endric said.

  “It seems as if your experience with him hasn’t changed in the time away.”

  He smiled. “It’s changed. If nothing else, he no longer sees me as Andril’s replacement.” His father had never really seen him in that way. To Dendril, Endric had been a disappointment first and something else second.

  “He asked you to keep an eye on Urik,” Senda said.

  Endric chuckled. Why was he surprised that she had already known? She really was brilliant, easily Listain’s equal and possibly even better. “You knew?”

  “I suspected that was what he would ask of you. There is only so much that Urik will share with Dendril. I think your father was too close to him. It places Urik on edge and keeps him cautious.”

  “And I will not?”

  She smiled and spread her hands out. “You know the way Urik perceived you. Likely he thinks that you only got lucky beating him the first time.”

  Endric started. “I did only get lucky when I beat him the first time.”

  She watched him, saying nothing for a moment. “Did he ask anything else of you?”

  “He didn’t ask me to serve as his Raen, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  She tipped her head. “No. That position has already been filled.”

  Endric blinked. That took him aback. “Who is it? Fennah?” She had survived the Raver attack and had lived to escort many Denraen back to the city. Were it not for her leadership, even more would have suffered and died.

  “Not Fennah.”

  “Then who?”

  “Me.”

  Endric stared at her, not knowing what to say. How had Senda replaced Listain as Raen? “You weren’t even an officer!”

  She laughed bitterly. “That’s your first response?”

  Many other responses had come to mind, but that was the one that stood out. Typically, promotions happened from within. Endric was better suited to receive a promotion to that position, though he wasn’t even sure if it was one that he would accept. For Senda to have been promoted to Raen would be unheard of, but was it altogether surprising? His father valued competence, and in spite of what he had alluded to, he very much prized Senda’s mind. That was a sentiment that Endric shared.

  “I guess I would have expected you to have told me before now.”

  “There wasn’t the time.”

  “Not the time? You mean when we were sitting in a tavern, just Pendin, myself, and you. That wasn’t the time for you to share with me your promotion?”

  “No.”

  Endric grunted. His conversation with his father took on a different meaning now. He thought he began to understand why his father had been so odd about his comments surrounding Senda. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Endric to have the connection to Senda, it was that she had already taken on a greater responsibility within the Denraen.

  He began to smile.

  “What?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I suppose now I have to salute you, though you never saluted me when I outranked you.”

  “Did you outrank me?”

  “I was en’raen.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you were…” He cocked his head, studying her. Had his father not promoted so blindly? “What rank had you held with Listain?”

  Senda laughed. “It’s funny that it’s taken you this long to wonder.”

  “Why should I have wondered before? I knew that you worked with him, but I didn’t realize you carried any rank in doing so.”

  “Did you not carry rank with each position you held?”

  “Of course I did.”

  “How would my position be any different?”

  “You were sent out of the city on assignments.”

  “I seem to recall you getting sent away the same way,” she said.

  “Mine was so that I could learn what it meant for me to serve as en’raen.”

  “Yes.”

  Endric watched her, realizing that he had been a fool. “How long did we share the same rank?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “How long?”

  Senda sighed and glanced around the practice yard, her eyes darting around constantly, seeming to take in dozens of things that Endric could not see. When her gaze returned to him, she stared at him for a long moment before an
swering. “I had already been promoted to Listain’s en’raen when you received your promotion.”

  “Why did you keep that from me?”

  “I didn’t keep it from you.”

  “Had you told me and I just don’t remember?”

  “Considering how much you drank back then, it’s possible that I had.”

  “Fair enough. But you didn’t tell me for a reason. I spent quite a bit of time trying to understand my place within the Denraen. You could have helped with that.”

  “No. I could not. Had I done anything different, my position would have been compromised.”

  “Your position? Why would it matter if it were compromised? Why would it matter if others knew that you served as en’raen?”

  “You’re not asking the right question.”

  “No? And what question should I be asking?”

  “Why would Listain need to have his own chain of command?”

  Endric hadn’t given that any thought. Why would he have need for that? But then, it made sense for him to have his own chain of command. If Senda were to issue an order, it had to have the validity of the Denraen behind it. If she was off on an assignment, she couldn’t take the time to return to Vasha, or send word to Vasha, in order to ensure that everything was communicated in the way that it needed to be.

  “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “I wouldn’t except that your father told me that I needed to. He suspected you would have too many questions otherwise. It’s tradition that none of the other en’raen know that the Keeper of Secrets has their own en’raen. The only ones to know are the Keeper, the Raen, and the general.”

  Endric didn’t even know what to say. He was overwhelmed by the fact that so much had been kept from him, even when he had taken on a role where he should have had more authority. Even then, he had been restricted with what he knew and with what they were willing to share with him.

  “What of the other en’raen? What did they think of your promotion?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “They all know how I served Listain. Dendril was quite clear that we needed continuity with information. No one has objected.”

  They made their way toward the entrance to the barracks when Senda paused. She glanced back, her gaze taking in the Denraen soldiers practicing with the sword, and Endric followed the direction of her gaze.

  “You look like you still want to practice.”

  Senda shrugged. “Perhaps I do. I don’t get the opportunity that often anymore. Too many people are intimidated by me to practice.”

  “Intimidated by your work with the staff or intimidated by your rank?”

  “Does it have to be one or the other? Most of the time, it’s a little bit of both. Your father has worked with me a little, but…”

  Endric smiled. He could imagine Senda and his father sparring, both using the staff as they fought. Senda was skilled with the staff, and might be the most skilled among the Denraen. His father had a high degree of skill as well, and had spent quite a bit of time practicing with different weapons, including the staff. It was a sparring session he would have enjoyed observing.

  Endric had spent some time training with the staff as well, though did not have nearly Senda’s level of competence. “If you’d like to spar…”

  Endric watched Senda, not expecting her to take him up on the offer. She had never spent much time sparring with him other than the time that he’d been out of the city on his mission with Listain. Then they had sparred, though she had easily defeated him. He’d improved since then, though suspected that she would have as well, especially if she’d been sparring with his father on a regular basis.

  “Sure,” she said.

  She started away from him, heading toward the flat section of the barracks lawn where most of the Denraen spent their time sparring. Endric followed, smiling to himself, and grabbed one of the slender staffs lining the wall. Senda spun hers a few times, making a practiced movement before setting it into the ground and leaning casually on it.

  Endric twisted the staff in his hands with a little less familiarity. Was it strange that this reminded him of his time in the mountains when he’d had only a broken branch with which to protect himself?

  “If you need me to go easy on you, I can.”

  Endric grunted. “How will I learn anything if you go easy on me?”

  “The great Endric now admits that he can learn something from a woman?”

  Endric laughed, looking around the practice yard. A few of the Denraen had paused and now watched them both, probably as curious about what he would do with Senda as he was. There was a time when he might have been embarrassed about the fact that he would likely be quickly beaten, but he no longer felt that way. Now it truly was about learning and developing his skill so that he could be a better fighter.

  “I’m happy for you to teach me many things,” he said. “I seem to recall you being willing to teach me before.”

  Senda lifted her staff and spun it in a quick circle. Wind whistled off it. “I believe you are the one with experience,” she said.

  “Unfortunately.”

  “I never minded.”

  With that, she darted forward, snapping the staff toward him with a flickering motion.

  Endric brought his staff up, blocking her first sequence of movements. She was quick, but she seemed as if she made a point of not striking quite as quickly as he knew her capable of. He flowed through a sequence of defenses before taking an opportunity to attack. The catahs used with the staff were similar to those with the sword, at least similar enough that he recognized many of the forms or their variants. They were different enough that he had to think through them, which caused him to act more slowly than he otherwise did, and certainly more slowly than he did when fighting with the sword.

  Senda blocked him easily and turned in another attack.

  This was one that he recognized, and going through the movements, countering the attack, loosened him up, allowing him to react more easily.

  When he had defended the catah, he flowed from the defense into another attack, this time another one that was similar to his sword work but different enough that it seemed almost a new attack.

  There were catahs that he’d learn from the Antrilii, movements that their sword Masters had possessed that few of the Denraen knew. His father likely knew them, and Endric intended to teach the rest of the Denraen—at least those who were willing to work with him—those techniques, incorporating them into the Denraen repertoire.

  Senda’s face tightened in concentration.

  Her attack intensified, spinning in a tight, controlled movement, each one a flurry of speed, whistling as she struck at him. Endric blocked, defending as best as he could, finding that she increased the intensity of her attacks. Had he passed some sort of threshold for her? She seemed to be attacking with renewed gusto, throwing herself through each series of movements before falling back into another defense.

  He couldn’t tell whether she still intended to demonstrate various catahs or if this was simply about sparring now.

  He fought back, doing everything he could to keep her staff from striking his arms, his legs, or his back. He deflected most of the blows, though a few caught him and altered his movements just enough that he was forced to attempt a different approach. He had a longer reach than she did, and greater strength, but she had speed and familiarity.

  He had to use her speed against her and his strength to his advantage.

  If they used the sword, he suspected he would have stopped her long before. He had few peers with that weapon, especially those who weren’t enhanced in some way, such as the Deshmahne as they used their dark teralin swords. Years spent practicing had made him incredibly gifted. Time spent facing groeliin had made him even more deadly. There was a certain skill that was acquired when facing creatures that attacked with claws and fangs, the kind of attack that no man could replicate.

  With the staff, movements were different. There was more spinning
and twisting, and it required the same fluidity as with the sword, but there was also the need for using the leverage of the staff.

  Senda caught him on the arm, and he almost lost his grip on the staff.

  He grunted, twisting, spinning back, and brought his staff around.

  He managed to do it faster than expected, and he could practically envision the way the staff would collide with Senda’s head.

  He threw himself to the ground, rolling rather than striking her in the head with the staff. As he did, her staff collided with his leg, stinging painfully. She had control of the movement even then, not connecting with as much force as he knew possible, the same sort of control that his father possessed. Endric swept the staff around and caught her on the back of the leg, dropping her to the ground next to him.

  Senda grunted and had started to get up when he threw himself on top of her.

  She glared at him. “This isn’t sparring.”

  “Not anymore.”

  He looked down at her, noting her dark blue eyes and wanting to touch her hair, smoothing it away from her cheeks. It had been far too long since he had touched her skin, far too long since he’d touched anyone’s skin.

  Senda shifted beneath him.

  There was so much he wanted to say to her, but now wasn’t the time.

  He licked his lips, swallowing back the words, and rolled off her. Endric took a deep breath, setting the staff down next to him, looking around the practice yard. Men had paused in their own sparring, some even paused in working with their regiment movements, all to watch him and Senda practicing. Now that they were done, most returned to their work, leaving him and Senda sitting on the grass alone.

  Neither of them spoke for a few moments.

  “You’ve gotten more skilled,” Senda said.

  “I’ve faced things that have required that I did.”

  “Naked.”

  Endric laughed. “Naked,” he agreed.

  Senda stood and reached a hand out, helping him to his feet. They replaced their staffs along the wall and she turned to him. “It’s good to have you back in Vasha, Endric.”

  He studied her, wondering if she really felt that way or if too much had changed in the time they had been apart.