Soldier Saved

by D. K. Holmberg

Urik grunted. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

  “Then tell me. Help me understand what you think I need to know.”

  “You’ve been searching for answers about what happened to Tresten. I thought you would have uncovered this before now.”

  “Uncover what?”

  “Tresten didn’t die in Vasha.”

  “Then where did he?”

  Urik grinned at him.

  The other man’s legs twitched.

  Endric slipped off to the side, avoiding the kick, swinging his arm around as Listain had once taught him. He slammed the hilt of the sword on the side of Urik’s head, dropping him to the ground, where he stopped moving.

  Endric let out a relieved sigh as he began to bind Urik’s arms and legs. It was time to return to Vasha… except there was something that Urik had known about Tresten, a reason that he had wanted to bring Endric to Thealon.

  He could return to Vasha, but would it matter if he took a brief detour? Couldn’t he take the time to travel to Thealon and see what it was that Urik was after? From here, it would only be another day or so to reach the city.

  They would return to Vasha, but Endric would return with more answers than he had left with. Was that what he wanted?

  He propped Urik over the saddle of one of the horses, fixing the rope so that he couldn’t attack Endric in the same way that Endric had attacked him.

  “I’ll take you to Thealon,” Endric said. “But it will be on my terms. I will find out what happened to Tresten and why you seem so intent on taking me to Thealon.”

  Urik groaned but didn’t say anything else.

  Endric smiled as he climbed into the saddle of what had been Urik’s horse and started guiding them toward the distant city of Thealon.

  19

  The massive city of Thealon rose before Endric. He stood on the hillside overlooking it, taking in the sight of the enormous wall surrounding the city. Wind gusted and carried a hint of rain. Was it a portent of what was to come?

  Somehow, he would have to get through the soldiers guarding the entrance to the city.

  He glanced over at Urik and checked the bindings holding his wrist and ankles. Endric had tied them tightly and knew that they were well secured, but habit forced him to double-check.

  “The priests will release me,” Urik said.

  “I don’t think they will. They know how you tainted them with teralin when you were here last. They won’t be swayed like that again.”

  Urik laughed, a bitter sound. It was times like this that Endric wondered if he were still under the influence of the negatively charged teralin, or if this simply was Urik’s nature. The man had a darkness about him. Was that from losing his family? Or was the darkness something he had been born with, something that was a part of him and would have been there regardless of what had happened to his family?

  “They see me as faithful. When they discover what you’ve done—”

  Endric slammed his fist into the back of Urik’s neck, forcing the man to crumble. He’d heard enough from him during the ride toward Thealon and was tired of it.

  Urik fell silent, slumped over the saddle of the horse, and Endric was tempted to tie him so that he couldn’t move, but that would only draw more attention. He wanted to avoid attention and wanted to get into the city and determine whether Tresten had come to Thealon or whether his disappearance meant that he had gone elsewhere. Urik seemed to know something, but the damned man had been unwilling to share. There was only so much that Endric had been able to force out of him.

  It was better that Urik was unconscious anyway. Were he awake, he might alert the Ur and raise an alarm that Endric did not want roused. Not yet, at least. He didn’t want attention until he was prepared for it. He wasn’t entirely certain what he might find in Thealon.

  Last time he’d been here, he had helped rescue the priests and their soldiers from the influence of the negatively charged teralin. Did they appreciate what he had done or would they be angry about the fact that they had been influenced by teralin in the first place?

  The wind gusted again, carrying the scents from the city. Thealon was one of the great cities and was better than most places that Endric had visited. Most had an undercurrent of filth. Even in Vasha, the first terrace often had an odor to it, one that reminded him of the dark side of the city. There were thieves, and drunks, and other criminals found throughout the city. It was something the Denraen tried to keep hidden from the Magi, but Endric had long suspected they understood their city was not the perfect place they tried to present it as.

  Maybe Thealon would be like that as well. Endric had not spent enough time in Thealon to know whether that was the case or not. His time in the city had been limited to reaching the priests and, from there, trying to free them from what Urik had done.

  Sitting here brought him no closer to answers, and answers were the reason that he was here. He needed to know what had happened to Tresten. He needed to find his father and get word to him as well, and then… Endric needed to return to Vasha. He’d been gone long enough that questions would be asked. How would he explain the fact that he had been gone for months, only to disappear once more after he’d returned? How would he explain what had happened to Pendin?

  Endric tapped the horse’s flank and started forward. He could ride, but it was better to walk. Besides, after his time with the Antrilii, Endric had been conditioned so well that he no longer struggled with walking such distances. Not that he ever had struggled, but he had grown quite a bit stronger than he had been before.

  He reached the line of people heading into the city. As he did, Endric pulled a blanket from one of the saddlebags and draped it over Urik, concealing the bindings around his ankles at least. He doubted that he would be able to conceal those around his wrists, at least not as well as he wanted, but he could conceal Urik’s arms with his own body, at least well enough to obscure the fact that he was bound to the saddle.

  Surprisingly, Endric entered the city without any confrontation. The guards waved him through along with all of the others making their way toward the city.

  That surprised him. Considering what had happened when he had been to Thealon last, he expected the city to have been closed, and if not, at least limited in who could access it. Instead, there seemed no limitation and a freedom that surprised him.

  Inside the walls, Endric paused, looking around. There was a general bustle of activity that reminded him of every other great city he’d visited, but there was an organization to it. The road he entered led straight through the city, heading toward the massive Tower of the Gods rising over the city itself, casting a long shadow over much of it. In the time that he’d been heading toward Thealon, he’d noted how the shadow moved, shifting with the changing position of the sun. How many people were under the shadow of the gods at any given time? How many more never were?

  Men guiding wagons hurried along the street, traveling between shops. People of all different dress made their way along the street, and in that, it reminded him of Vasha. Vasha was a place that all people wanted to visit, thinking the proximity to the Magi would bring them closer to the gods. Thealon created an even more direct connection. While in Thealon, people could actually see the evidence of the gods. They could see their Tower and what they had created. He could not deny feeling a hint of awe at the site.

  Where should he begin looking?

  Urik thought Tresten would be in the city, and Endric believed that he might actually be here. Finding him was the challenge. He could try to reach the priests, but doing that opened him to questions. He would need to be prepared for those questions and be prepared to provide whatever answer that he could. Would the priests even be willing to see him? When they’d come the last time, the Ur had run off, checking with the priests before ultimately sending them away.

  Maybe it would be better to send word.

  And Endric didn’t want to show up with Urik in tow. If he had access to the priests once more, he wasn’t cert
ain what he might do, or what influence he still might exert over them. Maybe it would be better to leave Urik somewhere.

  Endric looked along the street and noted the row of taverns. He would have to find a place here to leave him within. That would be the best—and the safest. Somehow, he would need to find a place where he could leave Urik confined.

  Endric started along the road that intersected the main street leading through Thealon. In this outer section of the city, it seemed as if there were dozens of taverns. Most had signs out front indicating their name, often some reference to the gods. None of those felt quite right. He didn’t need a place that was striving to demonstrate its devotion to the nameless gods.

  What he needed was a place where he could move unencumbered and wouldn’t raise the attention of the tavern owner, especially if Urik awoke and began making noise. He could keep his mouth gagged and could silence him as much as possible, but if Endric were to succeed in confining Urik, it would be done in a way that didn’t expose him too much.

  As he circled the row of taverns, he began to doubt that he would find the right kind of place. What he needed was someplace where the tavern owner didn’t care quite as much about the outer appearance. He needed a place that some of the more disreputable people in the city might frequent. Without knowing Thealon well, he had no way of finding that.

  Maybe this was a mistake.

  Should he return Urik to Vasha?

  If he did, he might never learn what happened to Tresten, and Endric had a growing suspicion that he needed to know.

  He continued to circle and eventually found a place far away from the main entrance to the city. The sign was faded and had what appeared to be two crossed swords as a marker. Loud music radiated from inside, loud enough that he could hear it easily along the street. There was an occasional shout and he slowed, listening before he approached too closely.

  The longer he listened, the more he decided that this had to be the place.

  He hadn’t found anywhere else that would work, not nearly as well as a place that sounded as bawdy as this. Endric made his way around until he reached the stables and flipped a copper coin to the stable boy, jerking Urik off the saddle.

  “Take good care of them,” he told the boy.

  The stable boy caught the coin and bit into it. He shrugged. “I take better care of them for two coppers.”

  Endric glared at him but suspected that the boy would do exactly that. He might have need of the horses to return quickly to Vasha so if he didn’t pay the boy, how well would he care for them?

  Endric flipped another coin to him. The boy caught it and smiled.

  “See that she’s fed and watered and brush her down.”

  The boy shrugged. “Food and water’s included, but brushing…”

  Endric took another copper from his pocket and tossed it to the boy. “As I said, see that she’s brushed.”

  Now he knew he had the right kind of place. For them to keep a stable boy like this, it had to be the kind of place that he needed.

  He propped Urik against his side and made his way into the tavern. There were more people than he would’ve expected from the street outside. Several lingered near the back of the tavern, where the musicians were playing, dancing or singing along to the music, while others sat at tables scattered throughout.

  Endric paused, holding Urik up. At least he could make it seem as if Urik were drunk and pretend that he needed Endric’s support. He scanned the tavern, noting the hint of grime to everyone and the way that more than a few were already intoxicated.

  This was definitely the right kind of tavern.

  After the cleanliness of Thealon, and seeing how everyone else in the city seemed to be well-dressed and put together, he was a little surprised to find a tavern like this. This kind of tavern was even more ribald than what he would find in Vasha.

  He dragged Urik through the tavern until he found a serving girl. She wore a tight-fitting dress that enhanced her cleavage. She had a round face and her hair was braided with three ribbons: one blue, one green, and one red. Her cheeks were flushed. Whether that was from the heat of the effort her work required or whether she wore rouge, the effect was the same.

  “I’m looking for the proprietor,” he said.

  She held two mugs of ale in each hand and studied him a moment. “Why do you need the proprietor? He’s a busy man.”

  “I’m looking for a room for the night.”

  “The night? Most men come here looking for room for a few hours.”

  Endric grunted. He hadn’t realized it was that kind of tavern. It made it even less likely that he would be noticed—or reported. “For the night.”

  The woman frowned at him and then nodded toward the back of the tavern. Endric followed the direction of her gaze and noted an older man sitting at a table by himself. He had a pile of cards that he stacked, flipping them over one by one on top of the table.

  “Jester is over there. He can help you.”

  Endric nodded. He considered saying something more, asking for a mug of ale, but changed his mind. Pendin’s trouble jumped to the forefront of his mind when he thought about it.

  Endric dragged Urik until he reached Jester. He leaned Urik along the wall, less mindful of the fact that he had him bound and had just dragged him through the tavern. Once done, he pulled out the empty chair sitting across from the man and took a seat. “You’re Jester?”

  “So they tell me.”

  “I need a room.”

  “The women negotiate their own time.”

  Endric shook his head but Jester continued to flip his cards, not looking up. “For the night.”

  This caused Jester to look up. He glanced from Endric over to Urik, a hint of a smile tugging the corners of his mouth. “That kind of thing is frowned upon in Thealon.”

  Endric glanced over at Urik. “There’s no kind of thing. I need a room.”

  “The room will be two silvers.”

  “For how long?”

  “A night.”

  Endric fixed him with a frown. Two silvers would buy several weeks in most taverns. Especially in Vasha. He couldn’t believe the man asked for so much per night. “Two silvers for one night? Are the beds gilded?”

  “The two silvers are to pay for what my women will lose out on.”

  Endric chewed on the inside of his lip. Jester went back to flipping his cards, his long face focused downward at the table, ignoring Endric completely.

  He had money. Service in the Denraen was nothing if not good pay, but was he willing to pay as much as this?

  If things went well, he would only be here one or two nights. He didn’t need to spend that much, but he did need to have a place where keeping Urik bound and confined to his room wouldn’t draw attention. This was that kind of place.

  Endric reached into his pocket and slid two silvers over to the man. Jester flicked his gaze to them before looking up at Endric. “Three night minimum,” he said.

  Endric didn’t know whether to be angry or amused. “The stable boy. Is he yours?”

  “My son. Why?”

  Endric grunted and fished out four more silvers from his pocket and slid them across the table to Jester. “Only that there’s a resemblance between the two of you,” he said.

  Jester chuckled. “There’s not many who notice it.”

  “I suppose not.” Most who came to this tavern likely weren’t interested in the quality of the ale or the amenities available in the room. Most likely wanted to remain anonymous, at least as much as they could. “Which room?” Endric asked.

  “Top of the stairs, last room on the right. Darla can lead you to it. Tell her you paid for the king’s special.”

  “Which one is Darla?”

  Jester flicked his gaze to a slender woman making her rounds through the tavern. She carried her tray laden with food and had a heavy sway to her hips as she walked. She had a prominent jaw and when she glanced over at Endric, he noted an intensity to her eyes.
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br />   “How is Darla related to you?” Endric asked.

  “Darla’s not.”

  Endric smiled. He found that difficult to believe, especially considering that Jester employed his son as a stable boy. How many of the people working in the tavern were related to him? And how could he allow his daughter to sell herself?

  Endric stood, jerking Urik to his feet and dragging him along until he reached Darla. “Jester told me to inform you that I paid for the king’s special.”

  She flashed a hint of a smile. It was one that reminded him very much of the way Jester had smiled. “He did now, did he?”

  Endric nodded.

  “Well then, come with me.”

  She led him to the back of the tavern and up a narrow staircase. An equally narrow hallway at the top of the stair had several doors on either side. There were no other decorations in the hall and no lighting. Endric’s hand went to the hilt of his sword, concern that he might be swindled rising within him. Jester had already seen how willing Endric had been to part with his coin. A man like that would be equally as likely to forcibly part him from even more.

  She reached the back of the hall and fished a key out of her pocket, unlocking the door. “Here it is. How many girls do you need?”

  She handed the key to Endric and he gripped it, waiting for something else. Would she try to slip a knife into him? Did they have another key they intended to use in the middle of the night and break in, robbing him while he slept?

  He’d have to block the door. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  “How many girls?” Endric repeated.

  “King’s special, you said. How many girls?”

  Endric shook his head. “No girls.”

  Her gaze drifted to Urik and she shrugged. “If you say so. You paid for the king’s special. All you have to do is let me know. I’ll make sure you get all that you want.”

  “Including you?”

  Her smile faded and she glared at him. “I’m not on the menu. Even if I were, you wouldn’t have enough coin.”

  She turned, leaving him watching her depart. Endric waited until she was at the bottom of the stair before stepping into the room and closing the door. He locked it behind him.