Endric stuffed the cloth back into his mouth, silencing him. He shook his head, raising his finger to his lips once more. “As I said, a quiet conversation.”
The man's gaze drifted from the knife to Endric's eyes before he finally nodded.
“Good. Now, if you help me get answers, you’ll manage to get out of this just fine. I have no reason to take your life, but no reason to keep you alive, either. So think about that as you decide how you will answer.”
The man stared at Endric's knife before nodding once more.
“Why the girl?”
He peeled back the cloth again, giving the man a chance to answer. The man licked his lips, bobbing his head. “That was the assignment.”
“Who assigned you?” Endric asked.
What had Senda gotten herself into? Working for Listain had dangers—Endric wasn't naïve enough to think that it was a safe profession—but he didn't expect that she was in the same amount of danger as men sent on patrols. Hers was more of a danger of offending the wrong person for asking the wrong question.
What had she discovered? And who had she angered?
“We don't get word on more than that. Like I said, it was a job. She was supposed to be picked up and brought—”
“Brought where?” If someone wanted Senda, he would know why. And he would know who had the resources to reach her, even though she had been with the Denraen.
She had been worried about the fact that Pendin's mother knew he was looking for her, but Endric couldn't believe Elizabeth would have leaked information. If nothing else, Elizabeth worked on behalf of the Denraen, though she did it in a way unlike others he'd met. Perhaps that was why his father valued her. Perhaps it was better for him to have someone who wouldn't simply go along with everything that he wanted.
“I don't know where it was. I didn't take the job. The commander leads us, you know?”
“No, I don't know. Who is this commander?”
The man bobbed his head forward until his chin brushed against the tip of Endric's knife and he froze. He licked his lips again and swallowed. “You met him. You met the commander. I was there. I saw when he was talking to you.”
Endric frowned. That man was not what Endric had expected. And if he had a contract for Senda, there had to be some reason, something that either she had done, or that someone thought they could gain from her. Endric wished he had discovered more about what she'd been up to while she was away from the city.
“You have to know something.”
The man looked down at the knife. Endric kept it held close to his chin, not wanting him to have a chance to move or scream. Any sound might draw the attention of the other men near the fire. Even now, Endric wondered if he might have their attention, not certain whether the man had been missing long enough for them to wonder.
“We were back in the borders. That was where we were when we got the job. I don't know much more about it than that. The commander took the job. He's the reason we’re here.”
“Where is the girl now?”
The man shook his head. “I don't know. They didn't leave that for me. I was only to watch over you, then get rid of you.”
“Get rid of? You planned to kill me?”
“There’s no money in killing you.”
“Then you planned to ransom me?”
“Like I said, the commander is in charge. I don't know what plans he had, but he thought we could make a little money off you.”
“Where were you going to sell me?” The man didn't answer at first. Endric poked at him, jabbing him with the knife. “Where were you going to sell me?”
The man licked his lips again, his gaze drifting to the knife. “South. We were taking you south. Merchants there would take you the rest of the way. I don't—”
Endric slammed the hilt of the knife in his clenched fist into the man's temple, knocking him out once more.
Anger surged through him.
South.
Could he really have been auctioned to the Deshmahne? That was the only answer he could come up with, but who would know they would be interested in him?
20
Endric backed away from the man, leaving him bound to the tree, strips of cloth still tied into his mouth. This man wouldn’t know where to find Senda. He wasn't sure that any of the men here would know. They probably all served this commander, and did so without question.
Had he lost her? Had they taken her somewhere else?
They weren't interested in him other than for profit. He worried what that meant for Senda. He should have forced her to leave with Pendin.
Backing away, he considered trying to find what these men might know about what might've happened to Senda, but it was unlikely they did. If they were sent with Endric, seemingly bound and confined, thinking that he would be easy to dispose of, it was unlikely that they would know anything about her.
Even if they did, what did he expect to do? He was one man, with hundreds of soldiers of unknown skill. It was possible that even were he to reach them, he wouldn't be able to rescue her.
What he needed was to find Listain and Pendin, as well as the rest of the Denraen. Once he did, then he might be able to rescue her.
Endric started backing away but changed his mind. The man would have a sword, and Endric had left it. He wouldn't go unarmed.
The man had no sign of a weapon.
Then he would have to get one another way. As the man awoke, he pulled the cloth down from his mouth.
“Count to twenty, then I want you to scream,” Endric said. The man's eyes widened. “Do you understand me?”
The man's head bobbed.
“Good. Now. Count.” The man started counting. By the time he reached five, Endric had circled around, making a wide arc through the trees. He didn't know whether the other men carried swords—let alone if they had his sword—but he could find out. He didn’t like his odds against six, were it to come to that, but better than the entire army.
Endric counted in his head, keeping pace with what he assumed the man counted as well. By the time he got to fifteen, he had circled around the campfire, moving as softly and quietly as he could through the trees. He hit twenty.
A harsh scream echoed through the trees.
Endric watched, waiting to see what the other soldiers would do as the man screamed. How would they react? Would they do anything?
Almost as if one person, they jumped to their feet and raced toward the sound in the trees.
Endric waited a heartbeat. Then two. Then he ran into the clearing, where the campfire had been, and quickly searched. There, leaning on a fallen branch, was his sword.
He would think about it later and try to understand why they would have left his sword. It was a well-forged blade, but if they were interested in how much they could make, it seemed that there would be better places to sell it.
Endric didn't think about it. He grabbed his sword and spun.
As he did, he encountered one of the men.
The man had either not gone with the others or had returned. When he saw Endric, his eyes widened, and he started to shout.
Endric threw the knife he still had in his hand, catching the man’s shoulder so hard, he spun around, landing on his back. Endric jumped forward, catching him in the side of his head with his fist. The man blinked, eyes stunned, and then Endric punched him again. He grabbed his knife, holding on to his sword, and cut one of the horses free, jumping onto its back.
With that, he kicked the horse forward, and they raced from the clearing.
21
Endric lost track of time. It was late, and it was dark. Night had stretched around him, the kind of night that came from a moonless evening. Stars twinkled in the sky, though fewer than expected. Clouds obscured the rest.
He had paused a few times, taking a drink from a stream, looking for a way to move south. The men—his captors—had followed for a while before giving up pursuit. Either they weren't interested in capturing him, or the fact that he had
attacked the last two who had gotten close to him had given them pause. Endric liked to think it was that rather than anything else.
The horse had gone lame late in the night, forcing him to walk. He reached the Saeline plains once more, noting the tall grasses that he'd ridden through earlier. Now that he was afoot, they were even more difficult. He kept a steady pace, using his long strides to cross as much distance as he could. He kept one thought fixed in his mind: Find Listain, and once he did, he would work with him and the Denraen to search for Senda.
The night continued to stretch on, leaving him with a growing fatigue. Endric considered himself in excellent shape, but running this long—and at this speed—left him tired. He needed to keep up the pace, otherwise he ran the risk that he would not reach the Denraen. It was possible that they had already continued south, thinking Endric either dead or lost. How much time had he lost so far?
Endric plunged onward, the night passing. He stopped focusing on the grasses that slashed at his wrists and arms, paying more attention to his direction. In his mind, if he managed to make it to the Denraen before morning, he had a chance of staying with them. If not, he would have to venture back toward Laurent, gather supplies, and return to Vasha.
As color began to stain the horizon, thick clouds still threatening rain that thankfully had not yet come, he searched for evidence of the Denraen. There would be no signs of a fire. The fact that there had been soldiers, and enough that outnumbered his men, would have prevented the Denraen from revealing their presence. They would've left campfires unlit, choosing to remain obscured. Likely there would have been several men keeping watch as well.
In this tired state, he began to wonder whether Listain would even go after her. Would he care that she was missing? Of course, he would. He was her uncle.
More than that, Listain valued Senda’s opinion. The fact that he had drawn her into his tent, listened to her when she had first returned, told him that.
Beyond the family ties, there was another side of the man that worried Endric. Listain was practical. Would he send soldiers after someone he knew lost?
Endric suspected that he knew how his father would react. Dendril would have left them behind. Not because he didn't value his Denraen, but because a rescue would be too dangerous.
Endric couldn't leave her behind.
As the sun began to creep above the horizon, Endric saw evidence that others had passed through here. The grasses were trampled, more than he could explain from his crossing. He picked up his pace, hurrying south, following the tracks. As he did, he wondered whether these were the tracks of his men, or if these were from the other soldiers. If these were Denraen, then he would get to safety. If these were the other soldiers, could he follow them to Senda?
The farther he went, the more it became clear that these were Denraen prints.
Endric saw the outline of the Denraen camp as the sun fully ascended.
He sighed, thankful that he was nearly back.
As he approached, he realized something was wrong. It took a moment to realize what it was. The Denraen had smaller numbers than when he had departed. They had left with nearly fifty, and there weren’t that many remaining.
As Endric neared, he raised his hand, hailing whoever might be standing watch.
A man popped up out of the grasses. Joseph was a tenured Denraen, a man who’d been with them for the last decade. He was a skilled soldier and had faced Endric several times over the nights preceding Senda’s return.
“Endric,” Joseph said, relief present in his voice. “We were afraid that you weren't going to return.”
“What happened here?”
Joseph shook his head. “An attack. We were able to fend them off, but we lost too many. Had it not been for Pendin returning, I think we would have been destroyed. They were able to turn the tide, and surprised our attackers.”
At least Endric knew that Pendin had returned. Had he survived the encounter as well? “And Listain?”
Joseph nodded. “He survived. He took out nearly a dozen himself.”
Endric would've loved to have been there to see Listain fighting. He’d never seen the man in battle and wondered how skilled he was.
“And the other soldiers?” Endric asked.
Joseph shook his head. “Like I said, we chased them off. Listain has us riding south, but he's worried they’ll return.”
“I need to reach him.”
Joseph nodded. “Of course. I'm sure he'll want to see you to know what happened.” The Denraen studied him. “What did happen?”
“I bought time for Pendin to escape and was captured.”
“But escaped.”
“Escaped. Senda did not,” Endric said, leaving Joseph.
He found Listain camped in the center. He was busy breaking his tent down, folding it into a neat bundle. As Endric approached, Listain looked up, quickly noting that he had come alone.
“Where is she?”
Endric shook his head. “We came across too many men. I sent Pendin back with the rest of the Denraen. Senda came with me. They surrounded us, and I thought they would be interested in ransoming me, but they’re after Senda.”
“You're certain they were after Senda?”
“I questioned one of the men. The job was Senda. I was an extra. They were going to take me south, ransom me to some merchant. I suspect they thought to sell me to the Deshmahne.”
Listain stood and adjusted his cloak. A deep frown crossed his face, and he studied the rest of the camp, his entire face pinched. “They should not have been after her. She shouldn't have managed to get a reputation already.”
“What is this?”
“Ravers, I think, though I don’t know why they would want Senda.”
“I need to know what you know about the Ravers. There’s more than you’ve shared.”
Listain squeezed his eyes tight. “I have sent word to Dendril.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“We will reach Gomald soon. When we do, we can find transport across the sea. From there, you need to be prepared for what we will face with the Deshmahne.”
“You would leave Senda?”
“Dendril will see that she’s rescued.”
“You would leave your niece?”
“She was not to share with you.”
Endric sighed. “Tell me what you know so that I can prepare the men.” Maybe that approach would appeal to Listain.
“There are many who hear the rumors out of the south, who hear the exploits of the Deshmahne, and think that by drawing their attention to them, they can be blessed by the gods in the same way the Deshmahne have been blessed. They don't recognize what the Deshmahne have done, or the darkness that resides within them. All they think about is a chase of power.”
“That’s what the Ravers are?”
Listain nodded. “Even their title alludes to a ceremony the Deshmahne perform.”
“They aren’t untrained. Not as I was led to believe.”
“Most have some military training. There are some from the south, coming out of Gom Aaldia, some who escaped the Ur and come out of Thealon, and even some from the north. All searching for a way to reach power, thinking that by gaining riches and demonstrating exploits of their own, they will be given an opportunity to be gifted the way the Deshmahne are gifted. They understand so little.”
“Where are they headquartered? Where would they have taken Senda?”
“I'm afraid you won't find it quite as simple as that. By necessity, they call no land their home. If they did, they would be exiled.”
“So she’s lost.”
“The Denraen will send patrols.”
“But you don’t think they’ll find her.”
“I don’t know.”
“Let me take a small group, see if I can rescue her.”
Listain's eyes narrowed.
Endric hurriedly added, “If I know which way she's going, I could reach her. I know that I could. She's valuable to the
Denraen. I don't know why the Ravers would want her, but we need to get her back.”
Listain seemed to study him, reminding Endric of how Pendin's mother had studied him, the same heavy consideration in his eyes.
“Take a scouting party only. See what you can discover. Don't risk yourself unnecessarily. If you have an opportunity, rescue her, but otherwise…”
“I’ll do what I can to save her.”
“Do you believe that she is more valuable than you?” Listain asked. “If we are to measure value to the Denraen, is a spy more valuable than the potential future general?”
Endric could only stare. What answer was there to the question? How could he feel so little for Senda?
But then, Listain had always been practical. Who was to claim Senda was any more valuable than he?
“Scouting. That will be all. From there, we'll see what we encounter and grab her if we have a chance.”
“I can delay only so long, Endric.”
He studied Listain and realized there was more than that to what Listain said. Senda would survive only so long. They had to hurry if they were going to reach her. “I understand.”
“I hope you do.”
22
Endric had been gone for two days, riding west at Listain’s suggestion, moving beyond the plains of Saeline until reaching the Rondall River, finally finding a place to wade across. Now he and the men he’d chosen were camped again, waiting. Resting.
What had Listain’s informants known? He hadn't hesitated to guide them west, something that had surprised Endric. The Ravers had intended to carry him south, though not with the larger part of their group. What was the commander after? What did the Ravers think to accomplish by carrying Senda west?
What was there? Villages were scattered all along the landscape, but none that would make any sense. There were larger cities… but none that fit with what he’d heard. There didn’t seem to be any reason for them to take her west.
Pendin leaned over the small cookfire, his body shielding the smoke, preventing it from drifting into the sky. They were careful about their fires, digging out a pit for them before sitting around, attempting to shield their presence. Part of their camouflage was in the way they camped at night, sticking closer to the trees. The thick branches could filter some of the smoke, and it gave them a little more shelter. With the constant rumbling of thunder giving a threat of rain that never came, Endric wanted to have shelter in case it did appear.
Soldier Sword (The Teralin Sword Book 2) Page 17