Pendin took a long sip of his mug and set it down, wiping his sleeve across his mouth with a sigh. “Why here and not someplace else? Not that I’m complaining. I always enjoy coming to these rundown taverns with you.”
“You never complained before.”
“Because you made it fun before.”
Endric took a drink. The ale was watered down, and too warm for his taste. Now that he was an officer, he had access to a few fineries within the Denraen, and one was the officer’s cave, a place he still couldn’t believe existed. Cold ale, chilled by the mountain snow and brewed by the best brewers in Vasha. It had given him a renewed appreciation for the differences found in a quality ale, though he rarely had the time to take advantage of it.
“You don’t think this is fun?” Endric asked.
“Maybe not my idea of fun. Then again, you’ve dragged me along with you with your promotion. It was bad enough when I was only friends with you, but now you have me saluting you?”
Endric met his friend’s eyes. Pendin had hardened over the last year, though he hadn’t needed to. He had always been a skilled soldier and had been Endric’s friend from the moment they met following their recruitment. Now that Endric served as en’raen, Pendin had been promoted to his steward. Not quite as high a promotion as what Pendin likely deserved for putting up with Endric, but it kept them together, which was what Endric wanted.
As had Dendril. He’d overheard his father say that Pendin would hold him accountable and would keep him on task. Listain probably gave him that assessment, though Senda would have shared it as well.
“I could have someone else replace you if you’d like. I’m sure I could arrange for you to return to patrols. I know how much you’ve likely missed that aspect of your career.”
“Now who’s being the bastard?” Pendin said, taking another drink.
“You shouldn’t complain. People salute you as much as me.”
Pendin grinned. “You only think they’re saluting you. I think they greet you in another way.”
Endric took another drink. “Like how they’ve always greeted you?” Pendin shook his head. They wasted time here, and he didn’t know how much he would have. Endric leaned forward, lowering his voice. “When Senda disappears like this, I have to spread word that I’m looking for her.”
“And you think this is the best way to ensure she knows you’re looking for her?” he asked, looking toward Kayla. “I think you’d prefer to keep certain parts of yourself intact. I’ve seen her with that staff. I wouldn’t want to face her with it.”
Endric laughed. Senda was skilled with the staff, and more than most. Had Listain not claimed her for his network, she would have risen high within the Denraen ranks. “I can put out word, the same as we’ve done in other places, and the same as we’ll do as we continue on.”
They had stopped at four taverns before this, mostly eating, but they’d shared a mug at two of them as well. Endric still wasn’t sure whether he’d gotten word to Senda, but he would continue to try, at least for tonight. If this failed, he would have to approach Listain again. The man did still owe him for saving his life, though he might never admit it, and Endric doubted that meant as much to the Raen as it would with others. If he remained unwilling, Endric thought he could trade in information. Would he have known Novan had returned to Vasha?
“Then again, maybe if Senda realizes you’ve returned to your old romping grounds, she’ll make her way here.” Pendin tipped his mug back, finishing it off. “I think maybe it’s good that I’m with you. Someone needs to watch this disaster unfold.”
Endric shook his head.
“Why haven’t you gone up to the third terrace?” Pendin asked. “If Urik was found in Thealon, who would be better to sniff him out than the Magi? They could use their connection to the priests.”
“I don’t think Tresten would help me over my father.”
Pendin shrugged. “Probably not, but don’t you think it’s worth asking?”
It had been months since he’d seen the old Mage. The man had been surprisingly open each time he met with Endric, carrying with him none of the mystery—or pompousness—of the rest of the Magi.
“I don’t want to violate tradition and visit the third terrace.”
“Again,” Pendin said. “You don’t want to do it again.”
“Fine. I don’t want to do it again. Too many people are watching.”
“If you think they weren’t watching before, you’re wrong. You were never as anonymous as you wanted to believe yourself.”
Endric sighed. It was probably true, but he wouldn’t do anything to risk the balance between the Magi and the Denraen now, not when his actions carried even more weight. As he took another drink, Pendin nudged him.
He looked up and noted that Kayla approached. Endric didn’t have to look over to know that his oldest friend was smiling.
“You don’t have to be so damn pleased about it,” he muttered under his breath as Kayla came over to them.
“I think I’ll enjoy this almost as much as I’ll enjoy watching your face as you tell Senda.”
“I don’t think I’ll tell her.”
“No? Then I get to?”
Endric didn’t get a chance to offer a response.
Kayla squeezed his arm, a wide smile spreading across her face. She had a full mouth, one that he’d positively enjoyed during the time they’d spent together, and her wavy brown hair framed her face. A tight bodice revealed her copious cleavage, and Endric forcibly held his gaze on her face.
“You’ve been gone a long time, soldier. I thought you might be mad at me,” Kayla cooed.
Pendin coughed, and Endric glanced over at his muscular friend and shot him a hard look. Now that Endric was en’raen, he outranked Pendin, whatever good that did for him. Pendin mostly ignored him anyway.
“Not mad, but I’ve got other responsibilities,” Endric said.
She took a step back and her gaze swept over him, lingering on his midsection. Endric almost blushed. Even Senda didn’t leer at him that way. “I see that. You wear officer’s dress, and you’ve got rank… Not just any rank, either,” she noted, touching her hand to his chest where he wore the marking of the en’raen.
Endric should have changed before coming here, but there were places he couldn’t go as easily without the uniform, and if she hadn’t heard anything, then he would have to try another route for information.
“You didn’t have much rank when you came here last. What did you do to earn such regard?” Kayla asked.
She practically pressed herself against him, and Endric resisted the urge to step back. He suspected she wanted a response out of him. If he didn’t give her what she wanted, maybe she’d stop playing at such flirtation.
“Nothing all that interesting,” Endric said.
“Don’t be so modest,” Kayla said.
“Yes, don’t be so modest,” Pendin repeated, a wide smile splitting his face. “Endric here doesn’t want to admit it, but he saved the city from an attack. Caught the general’s eye when he did.”
“He didn’t have the general’s eye before then?” Kayla asked. She traced a finger down the side of his arm, and he shivered.
“Kayla,” he said, removing her hand from his arm. “I can’t.”
“You’ve found someone else?” she pouted.
“I have.” Hearing Pendin’s soft laughter, he could only imagine how Senda would react when he told her about coming here. Senda had known about his tendencies, but that had been when they’d only been friends.
“Now that you’re an officer, I can’t say I’m surprised.” She touched his arm again, squeezing playfully. “Though I am surprised your father took so long to promote you. Didn’t he have Andril serving as en’raen before he was twenty-five?”
Endric blinked. “You knew?”
She looked up at him. “You didn’t think I’d know?” she pouted. “What use to you would I be if I didn’t know things?” She stepped away then, and
her entire demeanor changed. She flashed a dangerous smile and crossed her arms over her chest, the flirtation disappearing. “Senda asked me to let her know if you ever came by, but I told her that I doubted I’d see you. When you appeared, I thought maybe something had happened to the two of you.”
“Nothing has happened between the two of us.”
Pendin laughed and shook his head. He reached across the table and grabbed Endric’s remaining ale and tipped it back, finishing it in one long drink. “Why don’t you join us, Kayla, and tell us what you know about Senda?”
Kayla looked around the tavern. No one else had arrived in the time since they had appeared, and the older server seemed to keep up with making rounds. Kayla pulled a chair over from a nearby table and propped herself on it, resting her elbows on the table and looking up at Endric. She didn’t bother to hide a playful smile on her lips, one that suggested that she’d be open to a repeat of their last time together.
“How do you know Senda?” Endric asked.
“Senda offers a little coin now and again,” Kayla said. “Not much more than that.”
Endric knew that Senda likely had informants. Listain was the same way, using his network of whisperers to keep him up to date on the goings-on in the city. It made him an effective spymaster. There were probably others, those outside the city, that Listain used as well, a network that helped him gain the knowledge he needed to guide Dendril, though that would be harder for Endric to track were he to want to.
“How often does she come by?” Endric asked.
Kayla smiled widely. “Are you worried about a little competition for your affection?”
Pendin smirked. “Poor Endric is always worried,” he said.
Endric fought the urge to laugh. Doing so would be exactly what Pendin wanted. Probably Kayla as well. Spending time in taverns like this had been easier when he’d been drunk most of the time. Now that he was expected to be sober—and awake—he found it more distasteful.
“She’s disappeared,” Endric said.
Kayla shrugged. “Disappeared? Then maybe there is another reason for your visit,” she said, reaching for his thigh.
Endric pushed her hand away. “She disappears from time to time,” he said, “and most of the time I can wait for her to return.”
“Why is this different?” Kayla asked.
“Because I need to know what she’s heard about the man who attacked the city.”
Kayla straightened and fixed Endric with a frown. “What man is that?”
“Kayla—that’s Denraen business.”
She leaned toward him, and this time there was no playfulness about her. “I lost a friend during the attack. Others did as well. I think it’s more than Denraen business.”
Endric glanced at Pendin, who shook his head. There had been others injured—and some had died—during the Deshmahne attack on the city. The attack had been focused on the barracks, a way for Urik to gain access to his network of tunnels, but they had used attacks on the first terrace to distract the Denraen and draw them away. Others had died, though Endric hadn’t given as much thought to it as he probably should have. He had been more concerned about the friends he had lost, those like Olin, attacked by Urik—or the Deshmahne—as they abducted Listain, drawing him into the tunnels, torturing him until he gave up what he knew about the way through the mines.
But others had been hurt. Others had been lost. He should have thought about that before now and should have recognized the impact the attack would have on the city.
Endric sighed. “There was a man—a dangerous man—who led the attack. He escaped our custody, and I’ve heard a rumor about where he might be found.”
He didn’t want to reveal to her that Urik had been Denraen. It wouldn’t sway her one way or another, and it would only lead to the kind of stories the Denraen couldn’t have sweeping through Vasha. The people needed to believe in the Denraen protection, and they needed to know that the soldiers were there to serve. More than that, Endric didn’t like admitting that Urik had been Denraen. How could a true Denraen betray his fellow soldiers the way that Urik had?
Kayla stared at him, studying him in a way that reminded Endric of how Dendril studied him, before shaking her head. “I haven’t seen Senda in weeks. I heard she’s back, though, so if she comes by, I’ll make sure to pass on the word that you’re looking for her.”
As Kayla stood, Endric grabbed her arm. “Kayla—”
She shook her head. “If you’re not going to buy more ale, maybe you go on to another tavern. I’ve got other customers to worry about. If you like, I’ll send word to Senda that you stopped.”
Endric looked over at Pendin, taking in the others in the tavern, before turning his attention back to Kayla and nodding. He wouldn’t stay here, not if it would upset her, and if she did have some way of reaching Senda, he needed to take advantage of it.
And if Senda was back in the city, then he had to find her.
Why wouldn’t she have come to him already?
He didn’t linger on that thought. Doing so only raised more questions.
As she made her way back to the counter, Endric had the feeling that there was something else here that he’d missed but didn’t know. He stood, waiting for Pendin, and left the Climbing Trellis.
5
The interior of the officer’s section of the barracks was as sparsely decorated as any other place in the barracks. Walls were made of bare stone. A few lanterns hung on the walls, glowing with a soft orange fire, a thin trail of translucent smoke trailing away from them—the only concession to a little more finery. Swords hung on hooks along the wall in the spaces between the lanterns, though that was more practical than decoration. They were polished and honed regularly, the sword smiths keeping them under good care.
Endric ignored everything around him as he made his way toward the meeting room. His search through the first terrace for any more word on Senda had failed. Even the places that he knew her to frequent hadn’t seen her in weeks, about the same time that Kayla had last seen her. Under other circumstances, he wouldn’t worry. They’d gone weeks without seeing each other before, and often Endric had needed that time apart, too busy with his assignments to spend with her. Separation made their reunions all the sweeter. This time, he wanted to find her, at least to get word that Urik had been found. And to see why she’d sent a message to Listain through him. He’d never had the need to find her before and didn’t care for how difficult it was.
“There’s one way you could find her you haven’t tried,” Pendin said.
Endric glanced back. As his steward, Pendin was able to accompany him throughout the officer’s section of the barracks. That was another advantage to his post. “We’ve already talked about me visiting the Magi. Even if Tresten would see me, I don’t think I should visit the third terrace without the general’s permission.”
“I think you should check with Mage Tresten. I don’t know why you resist.”
“You know why.”
Endric paused and looked over. Pendin had changed into his uniform, and he filled it out in ways that Endric never could. There was a part of Endric that wondered how Pendin felt. Serving under Endric, Pendin would never be able to rise quite as high within the Denraen as he might have were he not to have agreed to serve as his steward. Pendin had a sharp mind, and he was nearly as skilled with the sword as Endric—which meant he was still not quite as good as Dendril either, but still better than most soldiers within the Denraen. Without Endric’s influence, he could have risen high. Did Endric hold him back? There had been a time when the answer had been obvious, when Endric had, but now that he’d agreed to serve as en’raen, the answer wasn’t quite as clear-cut.
“I just think you’re making this more complicated than it needs to be,” Pendin said.
Endric smiled as they reached the meeting hall, one hand pausing on the door handle. “I make everything complicated,” he said.
“That’s the truth,” Pendin answered, la
ughing.
Inside, the meeting room was slightly better decorated than the halls. A few bright lanterns glowed, giving more light to the room. A hearth at one end crackled warmly, the flames adding to the brightness. A thick, plush carpet covered the floor, a speckled pattern of blue and gold, the colors of Endric’s forefathers. Would the carpet be set in other colors if another led the Denraen? He had never really considered that before, but it would make sense. Portraits of the previous generals hung along the walls, and since rising to the rank of en’raen, Endric had taken the time to look at them, reminded of those who had led the Denraen before Dendril.
A circle of chairs angled around the hearth, and a table sat in the center. One other table along the back wall held trays of food, brought from the dining hall for the officers. The scent of fresh bread and roasted pork drifted toward him, making his mouth water.
He’d expected the others to have arrived before him but was surprised to note that they had not. The only other person in the hall was Listain, and he looked up from the chair he sat in, his gaze taking in both Endric and Pendin in one sweeping glance before returning to the stack of papers on his lap.
Pendin nudged him.
Endric took a deep breath and took a seat opposite Listain. He’d expected Pendin to join him, but he made his way over to the table with food and grabbed a hunk of bread, biting into it with a smile on his face.
“Speak, if you’re going to,” Listain said without looking up.
“What makes you think I’m going to say anything?” Endric asked.
Listain glanced up, shuffling his papers and holding them close to his chest. “What makes me think anything? I observe, Endric, as I always have with you.” He had a narrow face, and the beard covering his jaw hid the scars Endric knew the man to possess. Since his capture and torture, Listain had acquired several new scars. Within the Denraen, scars were appreciated—some would say prized—but Listain had never been one to appreciate things like that.
“What have you observed with me?” Endric asked. It wasn’t what he wanted to ask. He wanted to know whether Senda had returned to the city.
Soldier Sword (The Teralin Sword Book 2) Page 4
