Soldier Sword (The Teralin Sword Book 2)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “Tell me about your parents,” Endric said.

  He could practically feel Senda stiffening.

  “Listain was your uncle, but how is it that you came to study with him? What is it that you searched for?”

  Senda was silent for a while, and Endric wondered if he offended her.

  “I was born far to the east,” Senda began. She closed her eyes as she spoke and leaned back on her hands, tipping her head up so that when her eyes opened, she would stare at the sky. The breeze played with her hair, sending it fluttering around her. Endric found her lovely in the night. “Far beyond Thealon, in a small town near the Great Valley, away from almost anything else. I don't remember much of that time. I was too young to recall it, remembering only snippets, like flashes of color and visions that must be a dream.” She sighed, shaking her head. “My parents were teachers there, and helped guide the city.”

  Endric looked over. “Teachers?” The teachers were often those who were descended from the Mageborn but without any abilities of their own. Had Senda been related to the Magi?

  For that matter, did that mean that Listain had been as well?

  Senda nodded. “One day, the village was attacked. I don't know much about it other than ships came through the harbor, men with power and violence who left my home burning. My parents…” Senda took a deep breath. Her eyes flicked open. “My parents were burned. I don't remember any of it, but this was what was reported to me and what I’ve found in the time since then. This was left behind.”

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out a scrap of fabric. It was faded, and he could see the edges were charred. There was a strange emblem, which appeared to be two jagged edges intertwining.

  “This was recovered and stuffed into my pocket, sent with me as I was rushed to Vasha. Whoever sent me thought that my parents’ family would take me in.” She smiled sadly, shook her head. “But my parents’ family, as I can see you have gathered, were Mageborn.”

  “Were Mageborn? What of Listain?”

  “Listain was not. He, like my mother and father, was born without the gift. Rather than becoming a Teacher, he went to the University and learned but was recruited and brought into the Denraen.”

  Endric stared. “I can’t believe the Denraen would recruit someone descended from Magi.”

  “The Denraen didn't care about that. He had no talents of his own, other than he'd been born in Vasha and had connections. Even the Magi allowed him access where others were not allowed. That's the reason I've had some success as well.” She swallowed and met Endric’s eyes. Tears formed in hers, and she tried to smile but failed. “There are some of the Magi who remember my parents even still. There are some who know something of what happened, but I haven't been able to discover anything.”

  “That's why you wanted to work for Listain. You wanted to know what happened to them?”

  She nodded. “I need to know. I need to know what this symbol means. I need to know what happened to my parents. I need to know.”

  “And what have you discovered?” Endric asked.

  “I've discovered only more questions. Those in the University I asked didn't know the answer, or if they did, they pretended that they didn't. I haven't found others who had any real knowledge. But this historian of yours…” She swept her gaze around the campsite again before returning to meet Endric's gaze. “This historian might know something. If he does, I might finally learn what happened my parents.”

  “I don't think that's the kind of thing he studies.”

  Senda shook her head. “It's probably too much to hope for, but I maintain hope that someday I'll find the answers. And when I do, I'll find out why they came to my home village, what they were after, and learn if there's anything that I could do to prevent it from happening to someone else.”

  “Did you ever ask Urik?”

  Senda’s face clouded. “I never realized that it was more than he appeared. Had I known…” She shook her head. “That was my mistake, the same one that Listain made. Had either of us known, we would've done things differently with him.”

  “If we manage to find Urik, you can ask him, see what he might know,” Endric said.

  Senda’s jaw clenched. “That is my hope too.”

  30

  None from the Conclave appeared the following day.

  Endric waited, hoping that someone would arrive—preferably Novan since the historian seemed to know as much as he did and since Endric now had questions for him—but none did. Had Dendril not managed to get word to them?

  “What do you think happened?” Senda asked.

  “This is where my father said to wait.” They stood on the edge of the river, the wide water sweeping past them, leaving swirling patterns as it washed over rocks and other debris. Downstream, there was the broken top of a tree that must have washed down from somewhere more forested. The landscape around here was flatter, and there were few trees.

  “Where are they?”

  “They might not have gotten the message in time,” Endric said. He still didn’t know what his father intended, or how he would get the attention of the Conclave, especially since Dendril didn’t intend to return to Vasha, but Dendril had seemed to believe there was some way for him to do so.

  “How long are we going to wait?”

  Endric stared across the river. He’d wondered the same thing. How long did they dare wait for someone from the Conclave to appear? “Urik would get word that the Ravers had failed, which means that he might change his plans,” Endric started. “I worry that if we don’t get moving soon, we might be too late.”

  “It’s already too late.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I know that we won’t be able to get to him,” Senda said. “When I was in Thealon, I tried, but there was no way they would let me into the temple. The priests protected him.”

  “And I don’t know how the Conclave will help with that,” Endric said. Even were Novan to arrive, there were limits to what the historian would be able to do. There would be limits to where he could go. At least the Denraen could approach the Ur, the soldiers of Thealon who were tasked with protecting the priests, for help. Whether they would grant it remained a question.

  “There has to be some way that we can reach him,” Senda said.

  “Would one of the Magi help?” Pendin asked. He’d remained near the rest of the camp and now came over to join them.

  “Maybe,” Senda said. “It's hard to tell with the Magi; they often stay in the city. There was a time when the Magi served as advisors.”

  “They haven't served as advisors out of the city for a long time,” Endric said.

  “There are a few places like Thealon or Rondalin where they still have Mage advisors. Otherwise, there aren't many of the Magi who serve outside of Vasha.”

  Endric frowned. “Why do you think that is?”

  “Likely because the Magi have given up on the world,” a voice behind him said.

  Endric spun to see Mage Tresten standing there. Endric had last seen him when he was at the Lashiin ruins, but it wasn't altogether surprising to see him here.

  “Did my father send you?”

  “The Conclave sent word that Urik has made his next move. I presume that's why you’re here?” Tresten said. He had a flowing speech and a strange accent that struck Endric as unusual for Vasha for the first time.

  “Urik might have been discovered, but I'm not sure that we’ll be able to reach him. He's responsible for the attacks on the Denraen. He’s been working with the Ravers, and he's the one who’s coordinated the attack against the Denraen.”

  Tresten’s face clouded.

  Endric realized then that Tresten had come by himself. “You didn’t come with any protection.”

  “I think that I am safe enough to come without protection.”

  Endric looked. Tresten had not even come on horseback. “You walked?”

  “A Mage has many ways to travel,” Tresten said. There was a hint of m
ystery to it, and Endric could only smile. As he had from the first time they’d met, he found himself drawn to Tresten. There was something about the Mage so fascinating to him. Endric didn't have a good explanation as to why other than the fact that Tresten had always been friendly with him and had made him a part of his planning when they had been facing the Deshmahne.

  “Are you going to be able to help us get into the temple?”

  Mage Tresten shrugged. “It's possible, but I’ve not been to Thealon in quite some time. The last time I was there, they were more accommodating.”

  “But you're one of the Magi!” Pendin said.

  Tresten nodded. “One of the Magi, but to some of the priests within Thealon, especially some of those who might have been swayed by Urik, the Magi have abandoned the Urmahne. There are many who feel the Magi do not support them the way that they need. I cannot even disagree with that sentiment. The Magi have essentially abandoned the Urmahne,” Tresten said.

  “How do you propose that we go about this?” Endric asked.

  Tresten shook his head. “There is another that I would ask to help us.”

  “Novan?” Endric asked.

  “Novan has another assignment from the Conclave,” Tresten said. “This is another man I think you are familiar with.”

  “The Hunter?”

  Tresten nodded.

  Endric smiled tightly. Brohmin was perhaps the most skilled swordsman that Endric had ever seen. Having someone with that level of skill would be useful, especially if they were somehow able to get into the temple and spring Urik free without angering the Ur. The soldiers would protect the priests, perhaps even against the Denraen. Endric didn't think that they would oppose one of the Magi, but he wasn't entirely certain. If they did, if the priests felt the way Tresten suggested, then they would find reaching him much more difficult than he had expected.

  “I thought the priests revered the Magi,” Pendin said.

  Tresten sighed and rubbed a hand across his smooth-shaven face. He was a tall man, taller than even most of the Magi that Endric had seen, and he leaned forward on a staff that reminded Endric something of the one that Novan used. As with Novan, Endric wondered if teralin was infused into his staff. He wouldn't be surprised if there were, especially since Tresten seemed capable of changing the polarity of teralin, much as Novan had proven capable of doing.

  “The priests have a certain level of pride. There was a time when they listened to the Magi, when they sought the Magi for advice and sought the Magi to help them. But the priests have continued to serve the Urmahne, something the Magi cannot claim.”

  Endric shook his head. “We recruit from the Ur. We have choosings in places like Thealon, drawing from those in Thealon.”

  “Just because we might have a choosing with the Ur doesn't mean that they appreciate losing their best soldiers,” Tresten said.

  Endric had been present for a few choosings and most of the time, the men who were chosen were eager to join the Denraen. But he wondered if perhaps those who led the soldiers weren’t quite as excited. Tresten raised a good point that losing some of their best fighters placed them at risk. Why wouldn't the commanders harbor resentment toward the Denraen?

  “You're telling us that this will be difficult to get to Urik?” Endric asked.

  Tresten offered a hint of a smile. “Perhaps difficult, but not impossible. I think there is some potential here, and it is possible that we could arrive in Thealon claiming an emissary from Vasha. If we do that, I suspect we could gain access to the priests. And if we can gain access to the priests, then we should be able to gain access to those within the temple.

  “Now,” Tresten said, “I do believe that we should be heading east, don't you?”

  They camped for the night in a place so near the shadow of the Great Forest that Endric could practically feel the change in the air. He was tired from the day spent riding, though probably not as tired as Pendin. Senda had remained silent throughout the ride, as if the arrival of Mage Tresten had made her uncomfortable. Endric wondered whether that came from her admission about having a familial connection to the Magi, or was there something else to it that he didn't know?

  Pendin and Senda prepared the campfire for the night, leaving Endric alone with Tresten. He was the most comfortable with the Mage. The others had remained quiet around him, as if worried about saying something that might upset Tresten, though he had been nothing if not accommodating.

  “How well did you know Urik?” Endric asked, breaking the silence.

  Tresten shook his head. He sat across from Endric, his long staff resting across his knees. His finger traced a pattern that Endric couldn't see upon the length of the staff. “I didn't know him better than any of the Denraen. He hadn't drawn my attention.”

  “I thought the Magi Council involved themselves in the Denraen.”

  “Only in choosing the general. I know your father much better than I know any of the other Denraen.” He smiled and looked away from the staff, meeting Endric's eyes. “Other than you.”

  “You don't know me that well either,” Endric said.

  Tresten gripped the length of the staff. In the faint fading light, the teralin seemed to glow with a soft white light. Endric wondered if that was only his imagination or whether there was something real to it.

  “Don't I? I have observed how you care about those around you. I have observed how you are willing to fight for what you think is right. And I have observed your willingness to learn from your mistakes, returning when you knew that you must.”

  Tresten held Endric's gaze. There was a certain energy to it that left Endric feeling as if Tresten were peering into his soul. He resisted the urge to look away.

  “Now tell me, do you think that I don't know you? I might not know you the way your friends do. I might not know that your mother was lost when you were young, or know how your brother effectively raised you, as your father was distracted leading the Denraen. I might not know how you befriended your miner friend there during your earliest training. Or how you became close to Senda, daughter of Teachers, disciple of Listain. I may not have known how you rebelled against the assignments your father wanted of you, the leadership he demanded, until you determined that it was what was necessary. You must discover truths for yourself.”

  Tresten smiled, getting lost in the fire before turning his attention back to Endric. “I might not know you. Then again, maybe I do.”

  Endric stared. “How long have you been monitoring me?”

  The Mage shook his head. “Must I monitor to know these things?”

  “How else would you have without following me? How else would you know them without asking my father, or speaking to others within the Denraen?”

  “There are things the Magi know,” Tresten said.

  Endric shook his head. “This is more than what the Magi know. This is you knowing things about me that no others do.”

  “Are you so certain that no others know this? I think your friends are quite aware of your predilections. Yet despite that, they continue to come with you, following you. They recognize the leader within you, even if you do not.”

  “My father has not allowed me to lead. The Denraen need someone else.”

  Tresten smiled, once more holding Endric's gaze. “You think they need someone more like Andril?”

  Endric swallowed. He had not wanted to say that, but that was exactly what he felt the Denraen needed. Andril was the kind of man that his father was. He was decisive. He was patient. He was appropriate. He was the man who should have followed Dendril as the Denraen leader. Now that Listain was gone, would it fall back on Fennah? It couldn't be Endric. He barely deserved the title. He had done so little to earn that ranking in the first place that he felt like a fraud.

  More than anything else, that was what troubled him.

  “What do you think your father was like when he was your age?” Tresten asked.

  Endric hadn't given much thought to what Dendril had been like.
Likely Dendril was like Andril. He couldn't imagine his father doing anything that did not serve the Denraen.

  His father was the perfect general, the kind of man who inspired the rest of the Denraen. Endric was the kind of man who only managed to upset them. When he had been serving on patrol, he had easily angered men. Worse, Endric didn't feel bad about what he had done. At the time, he had, but only as much as he thought was necessary. Endric had been a soldier, and that was all he wanted.

  It wasn't until losing Andril that he recognized that he needed to do more, that he needed to serve differently. And though he might want to serve, he still wasn't allowed. His father prevented that. Endric couldn't blame him. He had done nothing to garner the respect he now wanted. He had done nothing that would engender respect from the men he now needed to lead.

  “My father was likely more like Andril,” Endric finally said.

  Tresten started to chuckle. “Your father is an amazing general. There are none among the Council of Elders who would say anything otherwise. But your father was not always the man you know. Your father went through struggles much like all young men struggle. He needed time to mature, much like you have needed time to mature. It is the same with most men.”

  “Not for Andril,” Endric said.

  “Andril was… unique. A skilled soldier, but he was very regimented in his thinking. It is possible that Andril would not have made the same general that Dendril has proven to be. It was possible that Andril would not ever have made the same type of general that you could make.”

  Endric shook his head. “I think the Denraen deserve someone more like Andril and less like me.”

  “And yet you continue to do everything in your power to become more like Andril, don't you? You have studied, reading everything that you could about tactics in warfare and history. You have been observed training with your father, but also with a man you once despised, working with Listain to learn to fight in another way. So tell me, is that the behavior of a man who is unwilling to serve as needed?”