Soldier Sworn (The Teralin Sword Book 3)

by D. K. Holmberg

  As they reached the edge of the rock, Endric peered over the edge but saw nothing. He thought that maybe the Antrilii had returned, but that wasn’t what had drawn the merahl away. Were there groeliin here? Something else?

  He remained motionless.

  He’d heard something, that much had been clear, but what had he heard?

  Moments passed before he caught sight of movement.

  It crept along the rock on the far side of the narrow valley.

  Not groeliin. There was none of the dark smoke that he saw around the groeliin. It was a flash of darkness, but was that fur? Maybe a wolf. It was too high on the mountainside for a laca.

  The cub squirmed in his arms, and he squeezed, trying to hold onto it. “Stop,” he whispered.

  Something grabbed his shoulder.

  Endric spun, swinging the sword up, but another sword blocked it.

  Antrilii.

  He scrambled back but could only go so far because of the edge of the rock. The merahl cub remained lodged beneath his arm. Without the other merahl, he needed to be the one to protect the cub.

  The face was painted in black. Endric didn’t know which tribe that meant. Was it the same as the Antrilii he’d seen the day before?

  “Who are you?” the Antrilii asked, his voice hoarse and with an accent that made it difficult to make out his words.

  Endric looked around, but the Antrilii forced his attention back around with a swipe of his sword, forcing Endric to block.

  “Not Antrilii. I would recognize another of the hunters.”

  Endric shook his head. “Not Antrilii.”

  As much as he had thought that he wanted to know about the Antrilii, and as much as he thought that he wanted to understand where he came from, that desire had changed, and he now wanted nothing more than to get back to the south—after he helped the merahl with whatever it was that made them nervous.

  The man attacked a series of attacks, forcing Endric to block each one.

  “Dressed in… laca fur?” the Antrilii asked.

  Endric nodded.

  The Antrilii took in his dress, then skimmed to his spear strapped to his back. His eyes widened slightly. “Penance?” he asked, bringing his sword back.

  Endric nodded.

  “Why? What offense did you offer to the Antrilii?”

  The merahl cub wriggled in his arms. Endric feared dropping him, but he didn’t know what would happen if the Antrilii reached him. Would he protect the cub the way that Endric intended? He was surprised that he had to question, especially since the Antrilii should be interested in keeping the merahl safe. They were partners in the hunt. But after the reaction the merahl had the night before, he wasn’t certain.

  “No offense.”

  The Antrilii prepared to attack. “No offense? The Yahinv wouldn’t banish you to serve a penance if you did nothing.”

  “I accepted my father’s penance,” Endric said.

  “Who is your father?”

  Endric sighed. “My father is Dendril, general of the Denraen.”

  “Dendril. That would make you Andril?”

  The Antrilii knew his brother’s name. They would know his father. Endric needed to be careful here. “I am Endric.”

  The Antrilii narrowed his eyes. “Endric. Why have you come to the north? Why have you accepted your father’s penance?”

  Endric realized something that he should have noticed the first time the Antrilii had mentioned his father. He referred to him by his name, not oathbreaker, as the others had.

  “Did you know him?” he asked.

  “I knew Dendril many years ago,” the Antrilii said. “You did not answer why you have come. Why are you here, Endric, son of Dendril?”

  “I came looking for Nahrsin. I wanted to understand the people I am descended from.”

  The man studied him, watching with eyes that were as unreadable as his father’s often were. “You search for Nahrsin?”

  Endric nodded. “My father thought that I would be able to find him and that he might be able to help me understand the Antrilii. Instead, I found… others. And I think that I’ve learned all that I want to know about the Antrilii.”

  “Is that true? What do you think that you’ve learned, Endric, son of Dendril?”

  “I’ve learned that the Antrilii take their vows seriously,” he said. The other Antrilii arched a brow. “And that they have good reason, especially considering what the Antrilii face. The Yahinv is hard… and harsh.”

  “Because they must be, Endric, son of Dendril. If we abandon our vows, more than only the Antrilii will suffer. Did you see that when you were wandering?”

  Endric grunted. “I’ve killed…” He counted the groeliin that he had fought. How many had it been? Almost fifteen before the merahl had even appeared, and then how many more had he been a part of killing after that? Dozens. Not an entire brood—not enough to return to the Antrilii having served his penance. “Many,” he finally answered.

  “Many. There are few Antrilii who even make such a claim.” The Antrilii took a step back, looking at Endric, considering him for a long moment. “Except you carry a spear you fashioned yourself. And you have a groeliin club. You have survived as long as any serving their penance.”

  “The other choice is dying.”

  “There is no shame in dying while serving the gods.”

  “I’m not ready to die.”

  “No? All men must make themselves ready. If you are not ready, Endric, son of Dendril, you need to find a way to become ready. Death comes to all.”

  “Maybe. But I’m not dead yet.”

  “No. You are not. You have found a sword?” Endric nodded. “And a cub. That is uncommon, especially for one not of the Antrilii.”

  “The groeliin used the cub to draw the merahl to them.”

  “That is not the behavior of the groeliin.”

  Endric shrugged. “I don’t know what behavior is normal for the groeliin, only what I experienced. They used strips of flesh woven into a leash, holding the cub.”

  “He has chosen you?” the Antrilii asked.

  “Chosen? No. He allows me to hold him.”

  The Antrilii laughed. In the starkness of the mountains, the sound was strange and caught Endric off-guard. “Hold him? Is that what you think you have done? The merahl has chosen you. It is a great honor, Endric, son of Dendril. The merahl are proud creatures, so for this one to choose you…”

  “There were others. They kept me alive.”

  The Antrilii’s laugh faded, and with it the smile that had been on his face. “There were other merahl with you?”

  Endric had said too much. He didn’t know what had happened with the Antrilii to make those merahl suspicious. Something had changed, something that made it so that they were unwilling to help the Antrilii. Without having a way to communicate with them as Dentoun had seemed to possess, he had nothing to go on other than the fact that they had been uncomfortable by the Antrilii.

  “Were there merahl?” the Antrilii asked again.

  “I saw another,” Endric said. That was non-committal enough that he thought he could deflect other questions.

  The Antrilii watched him, saying nothing for a moment. “You will come with me, Endric, son of Dendril.”

  Endric shook his head. “I’m heading south. I’m going to return to my lands.”

  “You do not want to satisfy the penance?”

  Endric sighed. “I don’t know that I could. I think the Yahinv knew that, and I think they intended for me to fail—especially Isabel. The Antrilii don’t need for me to understand their vows, and I don’t need the Antrilii to understand the vows that my father took that superseded those of the Antrilii. He is not an oathbreaker. He has taken a different oath, one that he continues to serve.”

  The Antrilii smiled slightly. “You think to lecture me on the vows?”

  “I’m not lecturing you about anything. I intend to head south and return to my homeland so that I can continue to serve the
Denraen so that I can abide by my vows.”

  “If you continue south, you will die,” the Antrilii said.

  Endric shot him a hard look. “I’ve lived this long. And that was without a sword. Now that I have a weapon, I have a better chance.”

  “Perhaps. Or you will die more easily. South, we think, you will find the breeding grounds. There will be more groeliin there, more than you will be able to withstand alone.”

  Breeding grounds. Hadn’t he heard something from the other Antrilii relating to that? What had it been? What had he overheard?

  He didn’t remember. He’d been too tired, and still hungry, and exhausted from the time he’d spent in the mountains.

  “Where would you have me go? Would you return me to the Antrilii and to the Yahinv?”

  “Have you served your penance?”

  Endric shook his head. He had killed many groeliin, but he had not taken out an entire brood. He wasn’t certain that he would know if he did. “I don’t know.”

  “Then I cannot return you to the Antrilii. You must serve your penance. But there is something I can do, and someplace that I can bring you.”

  “Where?”

  “You sought Nahrsin. I can bring you to Nahrsin.”

  19

  The Antrilii were camped near a stream much like the other Antrilii had been. They were all painted with red and black paint, though some were like the Antrilii he had met, with only black paint. Like the other group of hunters, none were mounted, which Endric found strange. When Dentoun had led men south, they had all been mounted, and they had all ridden well. Did the Antrilii not ride horses through the mountains usually? Then again, he didn’t know how they would have been able to do that through the mountains here. The horses might actually have been a liability rather than an asset.

  One of the Antrilii stood out, a man Endric recognized at once.

  Nahrsin was large—muscular, much like Endric’s friend Pendin—and seemed almost like he couldn’t be related to Endric at all. He stood as the man led Endric into the camp and stared before a wide smile spread across his face.

  “By the gods! Endric?” he asked, his voice booming. After all the time trying to be careful about how much noise he made, hearing Nahrsin’s thunderous voice startled Endric. His cousin hurried across the clearing and stopped a few paces away, pausing to study him for a long moment. “What are you doing this far in the north? I thought you had returned to the Denraen, and that your father welcomed you back.”

  “He did.”

  “And dressed like this? Did you lose your way as you journeyed through the north? Is that why you come to us dressed in this manner?”

  The other Antrilii shook his head. “This is his penance, Nahrsin.”

  “Penance. Why would Endric be serving a penance?” He blinked and looked from Endric to the other Antrilii, shaking his head slightly.

  Behind him, the other Antrilii were mostly silent, and the emptiness seemed to thunder around them. What would the Antrilii do about the fact that Endric was here? Learning that he was here for a penance, that he was supposed to serve by removing a brood of groeliin, but hadn’t.

  “Because I agreed to assume the penance asked of my father.”

  “Your father? Endric… that was a farce! You should not have needed to serve penance for him.”

  “The Yahinv asked it of me.”

  “And was Melinda there?”

  Endric nodded.

  Nahrsin frowned, looking at the other Antrilii. “Gron—why would Melinda agree to this? She knew the reason that Dendril left the Antrilii. She was there for those discussions, and she understood the sacrifice that he was willing to make, even if she didn’t agree with why he left.”

  “I cannot speak on behalf of the Yahinv, but if Endric agreed to the penance, and accepted it willingly, then he needs to abide by the terms.”

  “Willingly? He is not of the Antrilii.”

  “Perhaps he is not, but his father had been. And if the Yahinv feels that Dendril needed to serve a penance for abandoning his vows, then I am not able to argue with that.”

  “Even knowing what we know?”

  “Even then, Nahrsin. I am not above the Yahinv, and I am not above the vows. They are the keeper of the vows, and they have guided our people for centuries. We would do well to abide by their choices.”

  Nahrsin opened his mouth and seemed as if he were going to object before he clamped it closed once more. “He is here. That is the will of the gods.”

  “His penance is not fulfilled.”

  “What penance? He’d be lucky to kill even a single groeliin. That he survived this long is impressive, but were he to attempt anything more—”

  “I’ve killed many groeliin,” Endric said.

  Nahrsin turned to him, watching him with a curious gleam in his eyes. “Many? How is that possible, Endric? You might be descended from the Antrilii, but even then, it requires a particular awakening for a man to be able to see them and something more for them to survive facing them.”

  How had he managed to see them? What was his awakening? He remembered how difficult it had been to even see the groeliin when he had first heard of them when he first traveled with the Antrilii. Dentoun had kept him away from the fighting because he had doubted Endric’s ability to see them—and must have doubted Endric’s ability to do anything against them were he even able to see them. When had that changed for Endric… and why had it changed?

  The only time that he could conceive that it might have changed was when he had begun using the teralin sword. Had the sword—or at least, something about the polarity of the sword—changed something within him? Maybe it hadn’t even changed anything, but it had woken something that was already there. He was descended from the Antrilii, so there was no reason that he shouldn’t be able to see the groeliin in the same way.

  “The same way that you’re able to see them, I suppose,” Endric answered.

  “I am Antrilii,” Nahrsin answered simply.

  “And I’m descended from one as well.”

  Nahrsin started to smile but caught himself. “How many did you kill?” He shifted his glance to Gron. “What is the record for the number of groeliin killed before a penance is served?”

  “Typically, the Yahinv asks for five groeliin.”

  “Five. That is right. That is reasonable, and difficult enough when sent into the mountains with nothing but the grace of the gods to guide you. Were you asked to kill five?”

  Endric shook his head. “If only it were. I’ve killed many more than five already.” Had he only been assigned five groeliin, it wouldn’t have felt quite so helpless. When he’d begun to fear death, he might have felt like there was a chance. Five would have been difficult—and probably more than he would have believed possible to face on his own with only a club and a spear.

  “More than five?” Nahrsin looked at Gron. “Why would they ask an outsider to kill more than five groeliin?” When Gron didn’t answer, Nahrsin shifted his focus back to Endric. “Tell me, cousin. How many were you asked to kill? Ten? A dozen? If you’ve killed more than five, you must be nearing completion of what they asked of you for the penance. You can return, and you will have cleared Dendril’s name to even the staunchest of the Yahinv.”

  “I’m not able to return, not yet,” Endric said.

  “How many?” Nahrsin pressed.

  “I came looking for you,” Endric explained. “I wanted to know about where I came from, my father’s people. He sent me north, and likely thought that I would find you.”

  “Endric?”

  He shook his head. “The Yahinv told me that I could not return until I fulfilled the penance. I want to know about the Antrilii—but I also want to live. The Denraen still need me.”

  “Some die fulfilling the penance,” Nahrsin said, “but it is not so common. Most only need the reminder of their vow and they return.”

  That was a different sense than he had from the Yahinv. “I was told that I needed to
slaughter a brood. Only then could I return.”

  Nahrsin barked out a laugh that began to die out slowly. “A brood?” He looked at Gron. “That would be a greater penance than any has served in… in longer than I live, Uncle.”

  “I don’t know the will of the Yahinv,” Gron said.

  The merahl cub wiggled in his arms, and he shifted so that he didn’t slip free.

  Nahrsin stepped closer and lowered his voice. “They didn’t really demand that you slaughter a brood, did they?”

  “That was what they asked of me.”

  “And you attempted to do this?” He smiled and leaned closer. “Did your father demand that you die?”

  “I don’t intend to die,” Endric answered.

  “Facing the groeliin with no weapon and untrained? That is as sure a way to die as any that I know.”

  “I had a weapon.”

  “This?” Nahrsin grabbed the spear from his back. “You would be lucky to survive with such a thing. Better have nothing more than an axe.”

  “I would have preferred something with an edge, but I didn’t even find a sword until I had to fight off dozens of groeliin.”

  “Dozens?” Nahrsin asked. He watched Endric, disbelief in his eyes. Endric met his gaze with a nod.

  “That is what he told me when I encountered him as well,” Gron said. “I don’t know whether to believe him or send him searching for the breeding ground as punishment for lying to me.”

  “Can you show this?” Nahrsin asked.

  “It’s a day or more to the west,” Endric answered.

  Nahrsin waited.

  Endric looked at the Antrilii arranged around him. There were probably thirty men, all with faces painted in a similar fashion, and all hardened Antrilii warriors. Once more, he noted that there were no merahl. What had changed for the Antrilii that the merahl wouldn’t hunt with them? What had the Antrilii done to upset them? They were questions that he thought he could ask of Nahrsin, but not until he separated him from his uncle. Did he have a connection to Gron as well?