Soldier Saved

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Soldier Saved Page 12

by D. K. Holmberg


  “And what does that mean?”

  “I’m Denraen. I will do as I’m directed.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “From what I hear, you’re more than Denraen. Perhaps it’s time that you remember that.”

  Endric glanced around the room. Her office appeared the same as it had when he’d been here before. A stack of books on the desk looked recently shuffled through. He noted a map, though didn’t recognize any of the lands pinned on it. A fire crackled brightly in the hearth, lending the room a sense of warmth.

  “I don’t know how to be more than just Denraen.”

  “Don’t you? When you ventured north, what did you do there?”

  “That is secrets of the Antrilii.”

  Elizabeth snorted. “Do you think the Antrilii are the only ones who know those secrets?”

  “No.” Novan and Brohmin knew about the groeliin. Brohmin in particular had fought them, though Endric still wasn’t certain how he had been able to see them. There was supposed to be some trick to the Antrilii that allowed them to see the groeliin, a trick that Endric shared by his heritage. He wasn’t certain why Novan was able to see them, but there was something different about Novan.

  “As you’ve seen, there are those who share knowledge.”

  He stared at her. Was she telling him that she was a part of the Conclave? When he’d first met with her, he’d had suspicions, but there had been nothing to confirm it. And when he’d first met with her, she had suggested that Urik had been right in forcing the Denraen to confront the Deshmahne.

  “I have seen that there are those who share knowledge. Are you trying to tell me that you sit among them?”

  “There are many who seek understanding of the mysteries of the world, Endric.”

  It wasn’t an admission, but it wasn’t a denial either.

  It wasn’t Endric’s place to share anything about the Conclave. He was not a member, and wasn’t certain that he wanted to be one, even if it were offered to him.

  “How do you suggest that I use my Antrilii connection while serving as Denraen?”

  “What is the purpose of the Denraen?”

  “The Denraen served to maintain peace. We serve the Urmahne ideals.”

  “Very well. Don’t the Antrilii do something similar?”

  He supposed they did in their own way.

  “There are many ways to serve the ideals of peace. Don’t think that what you’ve been taught, and what you’ve seen, are the only ways.”

  She stood and waved Endric away.

  With a sigh, he turned from Pendin, who had remained silent during the entire interaction. Endric hurried up the stairs, making his way from the university, not glancing at the two scholars standing guard at the gate, and hurrying back up to the second terrace. It was a lonely walk, made all the worse by the fact that he felt as if he had abandoned Pendin.

  Hopefully he had helped. That was all that he could do.

  When he reached his room, he settled himself on the bed. Endric stared up at the ceiling, troubled thoughts rolling through his mind. Somehow, he would have to find a way to mix the two parts of him—both Denraen and Antrilii—but he wasn’t sure he knew how. Maybe there wasn’t a way. His father certainly hadn’t managed to do it.

  He glanced over and noted a note propped on his desk.

  He grabbed the note, reading it quickly. When he was done, he frowned. What would Urik want with him?

  14

  Endric followed the instructions on the note that had been left to him, amused by the detail within them. Urik required that he follow specific steps, turning in certain places, and required that he pause to ensure that no one followed him. The level of suspicion in the note was funny, especially coming from Urik. Yet Endric’s curiosity was piqued. He would know what Urik intended for him. He would find out why he’d sent him the note and requested a meeting, even if it meant following the strange steps.

  The path led him behind the barracks. The instructions asked him to climb the wall around the barracks, and Endric glanced around before doing so. When he’d been younger—when he’d been more interested in breaking Denraen rules—he had climbed the walls many times. Never had he done so while trying to be mysterious. There had always been an intent to reach the first terrace without getting caught.

  Had Urik known?

  Likely he did. Otherwise why would he have asked Endric to come this way?

  If Urik had known, it made it likely that Dendril had known.

  And here he thought he’d been so clever back then. He thought he’d managed to sneak behind his father’s back, to break out of the barracks.

  According to the note, there would be a rope. Endric found it and climbed quickly, leading to the third terrace.

  Once he was there, he jumped over the teralin gate and stood with the palace of the Magi gleaming above him. He didn’t feel the same sense of awe that so many others did when in the presence of the palace, but that was more to do with the fact that he had grown up in Vasha, and though he recognized the power of the Magi, he didn’t see them as nearly as intimidating as others did.

  He followed the rest of the instructions and shook his head when he reached the Lashiin ruins.

  “You could’ve simply told me to make my way to the ruins,” Endric said.

  He saw Urik outlined against the night. The man hadn’t made any attempt to conceal himself. “Had I done that, you wouldn’t have paid attention to whether or not you were followed.”

  “I think I can conceal myself.”

  “Can you? You remain close to Senda. She’s like a spider.”

  Endric grinned. That was the first time he’d heard anyone refer to Senda in such a way. Listain had often managed to carry such a reputation, but Senda had avoided it for the most part. “Are you afraid of spiders?”

  “Only when their webs are spread everywhere.”

  “And you think that Senda’s webs are everywhere?”

  “I know they are.”

  “I suspect I know way of reaching the ruins that Senda would not.”

  Urik arched a brow. Endric shook his head. “I’m not sharing any secrets with you. You’re still a traitor.”

  Urik grinned. “A traitor that you felt compelled to come see in the middle of the night.”

  “I want to know what you told Senda about that note.”

  “Senda had no interest in the contents of the note. When she learned that it was directed to you, she pulled it back, thinking that I wouldn’t have had a chance to read the entire thing.”

  Senda hadn’t shared that with him, though he wasn’t surprised that she would try to conceal the contents of the note from Urik. That made him feel somewhat better.

  “It was from Tresten.”

  Urik nodded. “From Tresten. Directed to you. Interesting, don’t you think?”

  “Tresten and I had an understanding. I recognize the role that he plays, and he…” Endric shook his head. He didn’t know how to explain why Tresten had grown to trust him. There had to be a reason, though whatever it was remained mysterious to him.

  “That Mage is more talented than most. I suppose you know that as well.”

  “I had an opportunity to spend quite a bit of time with Tresten. I recognize what he was capable of doing.” Endric shifted so he wasn’t staring at Urik but instead looked up at the palace. “This is where I first met him.”

  Urik frowned. “In the ruins?”

  Endric sighed. “After the Deshmahne attack. When they—when you allowed them to attempt an attack on the palace.”

  Urik grinned. “Yes. An attack that you thwarted. There aren’t many men who would have been able to disrupt the Deshviili.”

  “Why were you willing to attack the Magi?”

  “The Magi were never in any danger. Even had the Deshmahne succeeded in their attack, the Magi—and the palace—were protected.”

  “But the rest of the city was not. I lost a friend in that attack.” He hadn’t thought of Olin that often since then.
They had once been close. Olin had always been quiet and somber, and Endric had appreciated his dry sense of humor. And now? He missed him.

  “One life is a small part of a larger war.”

  “There was only war because you brought it to us,” Endric said.

  Urik studied him for a moment. “If that’s what you believe, then perhaps there is no reason for me to share what was in the note.”

  “The Denraen would have eventually faced the Deshmahne.”

  “Your father was never clear about that,” Urik said. “As I’ve told you, I tried to convince him of the threat, but they would not see. That is his failing. Sometimes, he does not look beyond what is directly in front of him.”

  Endric hadn’t felt that way about his father, but then again, he couldn’t deny that Dendril had been reticent to confront the Deshmahne. Even after Andril’s death, he hadn’t wanted to openly confront them. Urik bringing the attack to Vasha had forced a change in perspective and had forced the Denraen to recognize the depths of the danger the Deshmahne posed.

  “And the teralin throne? What was the purpose of that?”

  Urik’s brow furrowed. “I needed information from Listain.”

  “But you didn’t get it.”

  “No. He was… stronger… than I expected.”

  Did Urik know that Listain was descended from the Magi? For that matter, did he know that Senda was descended from them? Listain had been her uncle, and he had welcomed her in after her parents had died. Maybe Urik didn’t know, and if he didn’t, that was a secret Endric would hang onto.

  “What was the throne?”

  “Many of the artifacts stored in that chamber are felt to be remnants of a time before the city was here.”

  Endric glanced at the ruins. “You mean the gods?”

  Urik shrugged. “I’m not saying that it’s true, only that some feel that those artifacts are the remnants of that time.”

  Endric thought about all of the teralin artifacts that he’d found there. There had been neutral teralin, but there had been others that had polarity to it, hadn’t there? The throne… which polarity had it possessed?

  It was negatively charged.

  “Why would the gods have a negatively charged teralin throne?”

  “Why indeed?”

  “You don’t think these were from the gods, do you?”

  Urik smiled. “You pay attention. That’s something your father lacks.”

  “My father listens, but he does what he thinks is necessary. It may not be what you, or what I, think is necessary.”

  “You don’t have to defend him. He’s not here.”

  “And not in the city.”

  Urik stared. “No. He’s not in the city, is he?”

  “What was the throne?”

  Endric felt the answer to that was important, and felt as if Urik were keeping it from him for some reason. Either he didn’t want to share or he didn’t know the answer. Either way, Endric wanted to know. He hadn’t seen the throne since they had rescued Listain from it and suspected that Tresten had done something to it, securing it and hopefully changing its polarity. Considering how few were able to impact the polarity of teralin, it would at least offer some protection.

  “A way to torment Listain. Nothing more.”

  “I don’t believe that’s true.”

  “You can believe what you want, Endric. I don’t have all the answers. I didn’t have them then, either. I recognized the power that the throne offered and knew that I could use it to confine Listain. I needed answers from him so that I could allow the Deshmahne into the city.”

  “All you would have done was destroy the Denraen. He would have destroyed those who had the ability to stop them.”

  “No. Those with the ability to stop them would have recognized their danger. They would have been galvanized.” His gaze drifted to the Magi palace.

  Endric followed his eyes and chuckled. “You intended to convince the Magi to act against the Deshmahne?”

  “The Magi would be the only ones capable of acting against the Deshmahne. I believe you’ve seen them fight?”

  Endric thought back to his time with the Antrilii, and their battle with the Deshmahne. Armed with the negatively charged teralin swords, they were incredible swordsmen and would have been deadly to the Denraen, perhaps deadly enough that there might have been nothing that the Denraen could have done to stop them.

  “The Magi wouldn’t have done anything, either.”

  “Perhaps not at first. Most forget that the Magi were once warriors. They need to be reminded of that.”

  It was something that he would have to ask Tresten about, if he could ever find the man again. What would Tresten’s response be to Urik claiming that the Magi had been warriors and that they should become warriors once again?

  “How many would have suffered?” Endric asked. This wasn’t the conversation he had intended to have with Urik, but they were questions that he had anyway. He wanted to know why Urik had been so willing to sacrifice as much as he had. Why had he been willing to destroy all of Vasha for his revenge?

  “As I said, it would have been a small sacrifice in a greater war.”

  Endric stared at him. “You have served both the historian guild and the Denraen, and you feel this way?” He had thought that Urik had been tainted by the dark teralin, but if he had been healed as Endric suspected, the teralin wasn’t the reason for this attitude. This was all about Urik.

  “It’s because I’ve served the historian guild in the Denraen that I feel this way. I have a perspective that so many lack.”

  “Why did you summon me here? You could have taunted me like this in the barracks, or you could have simply found me somewhere else. What is it that you wanted me to see here?”

  “See? What makes you think that I wanted you to see anything?”

  “You called me to the Lashiin ruins. We sit at the base of the palace of the Magi. And you’re here, in the dark, wanting to conceal the fact that you called me to you. I think that there is something here that you wanted for me to know. What is it?”

  Urik considered him for a moment. “I remember the day that your father sent you to me. I thought you brash, a skilled soldier, but never expected you to amount to much.”

  Endric snorted. “If you called me here to insult me, you could have done that in the barracks as well.”

  “Then you challenged your father. That surprised me. I thought I had everything well-planned, but I had not accounted for you, Endric. Your brother was so rigid in his beliefs and his viewpoint. He was easy to remove, and he had to be removed. Whether he survived the attack and returned with word of the truth threat or whether he died, either would have afforded me my goal.”

  Endric squeezed his hands together, fighting back the surge of anger rolling through him. “Do not speak of my brother in such a way.”

  “I respected your brother. Don’t get me wrong.”

  “Are you going to tell me why you called me here?” Endric asked.

  Urik smiled at him. “You keep coming back around to that, don’t you?”

  Endric breathed out, suppressing the frustration that threatened to rise within him. Urik was pushing on him, needling him in ways that he knew would cause Endric to react. He couldn’t allow himself to be so predictable.

  “Why here after Tresten left a note?”

  “Now you begin to ask good questions.”

  “I don’t believe that Tresten is dead,” Endric said.

  “As well you shouldn’t.”

  “What do you know?”

  Urik nodded toward the palace. “It’s an impressive structure, isn’t it? The Magi managed to create something quite amazing here in Vasha. It’s almost enough to believe that they have the ear of the gods, as they claim.”

  What was Urik trying to tell him in his roundabout way? There had to be something to it, though Endric didn’t know what the man was trying to reveal. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe there was no answer to what he intended
to share, other than a way of taunting him and attempting to drag him away from the barracks. Yet he suspected there was something to what Urik was sharing. The man had his own particular way of doling out information. Endric had to be patient, and he had to keep from letting his frustration get the best of him.

  “The stories claim the Magi pulled the palace out of the mountain itself,” Endric said.

  “Yes. There is a mystical quality about it, isn’t there? But the stone is too white and practically glows in certain light. It’s almost as if…” He shrugged. “That’s not why you’ve come here, is it? You want answers.”

  “I’d like answers, but I don’t get the sense that you are interested in sharing anything,” Endric said.

  “What answers would you prefer? What do you think I might have for you that might be revealed that you did not already know?”

  It was a game. Endric could tell that to be the case, but that didn’t make it any easier for him to stomach. “I think that I will take the slip of paper that Tresten left for me.”

  “Ah, you are mistaken if you think your friend allowed me to maintain possession of it. She feared what I might do with it.”

  “And what might you do with it?”

  “This.”

  He launched himself at Endric.

  It happened faster than Endric could react, and Urik’s fist collided with Endric’s temple, dropping him. Everything went black.

  15

  His head throbbed. Endric awoke to pain that pulsed through him, radiating through his head and down his body, trailing throughout him. Thoughts were difficult. It seemed as if awareness came to him slowly, as if from a great distance, and he recognized that it was because of the pain.

  Urik had attacked him.

  He blinked, looking around, but there was only darkness.

  There was more than darkness, though. Endric felt a warmth, and he felt a strange pressure on him, one that was familiar and that he recognized.

  Teralin.

  Was he in the mines?

  He would have to be, if Urik attacked him in this way and intended to somehow use him. He had let his guard down around Urik, a mistake that he should have known better than to make, and yet he had still allowed himself to do so. He had known that Urik was a planner and likely had been anticipating that he would grow increasingly complacent, which was exactly what had happened. Endric swore to himself. It was a mistake, and now he would pay the price.

 

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