Soldier Sword (The Teralin Sword Book 2)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “This was Listain’s assignment?”

  “No. Dendril asked this of me if I had the chance.”

  Anger simmered within Endric. His father knew his feelings about Senda. “That’s why you wanted to go?”

  Senda shook her head. “Finding Urik was beneficial, but we've been looking for information about the Ravers for a while. They've gained power in the time since the Deshmahne appeared. Listain wasn't able to find anything about them, and Dendril tasked me with it. And now we've lost our opportunity.”

  Endric swore under his breath.

  His father had known, and Endric’s urgency to help Senda had cost the Denraen. Once again, Endric's lack of patience was a problem.

  Thankfully, Listain had shared in that sense.

  “I couldn't leave you like this. Not when they have negatively charged teralin.”

  “If you don't leave me, we won't find anything about who's leading them.”

  “We will if we bring him with us,” Endric said. He motioned toward the captive man. Somehow they would have to get through the camp with the man bound and gagged without getting discovered. Endric wasn't certain how they would manage that. Only that he knew they needed to.

  Endric reached into the cage and pulled Senda out. She seemed to take his hand reluctantly. A pained look crossed her face as she exited the cage and grabbed her staff and leaned on it.

  “Was it just you?” she asked.

  “It wasn't supposed to be. I snuck away, bringing a few men who were willing to come with me. I came into some trouble when I was making my way toward here and lost one of the men.” Losing Charles had been his fault. They had been too eager making their way toward the camp without paying attention to what might be around them. “When we were attacked, I had to make a choice. Either I turned back, returned to Pendin and the others, or kept going. I decided to keep going, knowing that if I didn't, I’d miss out on the opportunity to find you.”

  “Now that you're here, what you propose to do so that we can get free?”

  Slinging the unconscious man over his shoulders, Endric made his way to the tent edge he had slit open. He crouched down, dragging the man through the opening in the tent, and peeked his head through. Nothing moved.

  He pulled back and glanced up at Senda. “Do you think you're well enough?”

  Senda tapped him lightly on the backside. “I can keep up.”

  Endric watched her and couldn't help but note the troubled expression she wore. He had made a mistake, had forced his way here thinking to rescue her, but Senda hadn't wanted rescuing.

  What would Dendril say about this mistake?

  He tried not to think about it, but Elizabeth’s words came back into his head. He had to plan better than Urik. Right now, he couldn’t even plan better than his father.

  Endric ducked outside, dragging the man with him. He tried to do so quietly and had reached the edge of the camp when he heard a shout.

  Senda was behind him, and her eyes widened. “This will be interesting.”

  Endric followed the direction of her gaze, noting dozens of men coming their way.

  25

  The men converging on them would be too many. Even in the darkness of night, little more than the firelight gleaming off their swords, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to withstand them for long. He could buy Senda time. If he were lucky, he would be able to escape after her.

  “Take him and run west. Pendin will be there. He was going to follow. I don't know if he would've given up, but I tried to make enough tracks that they could still follow us even when it got dark.”

  Senda shook her head. “I'm not leaving without you. You were stupid enough to come after me. Now it’s my turn to be stupid enough to remain with you. We’re both going, or neither of us is.”

  She met his eyes, and he knew that she wouldn’t change her mind. She could be as stubborn as him sometimes.

  Endric flipped the Raver over his shoulder, unsheathed his sword, and hurried west with Senda on his heels. It was no use keeping low, trying to keep a low profile. At this point, all he needed to do was find speed.

  “They're gaining on us,” Senda said.

  Endric could only nod. He could practically feel them gaining.

  They neared a change in the contour of the land. Wind whipped around them, carrying the scent of the grasses and something else, a foulness that was almost bitter. Endric staggered, stumbling as he did.

  He was forced to drop the man. Endric noted a concerned expression on Senda’s face. “If they’re only after you, I need you to run. You need to get back to my father and let him know what you might've heard and observed.”

  “Endric—”

  He shook his head. “I can slow them. I can buy you time.”

  “I said that we both were getting away.”

  “And I’m ordering you to go.”

  Senda glared at him before nodding slowly. She hazarded a glance over her shoulder, then took off, at first running slowly, then at a sprint. Endric took a deep breath, trying not to watch her disappear, leaving him to certain death as Ravers bore down on him.

  He had needed her to leave him. If she hadn't, they both would die. This way, she could escape and get word to Dendril. She may not believe it, but he suspected she was more valuable to the Denraen than he was.

  Endric squeezed the hilt of his sword, preparing.

  Then the first of the Ravers was upon him.

  Endric attacked, slashing, falling into the catahs he had worked on with his father. He danced from pattern to pattern, cutting and slicing. He took down five men before they recognized he was a greater threat than they had expected.

  Endric kept himself stationed around the Raver lying on the ground, the man he hoped was the commander. If he survived, they needed answers. He would do everything to ensure they got them.

  Men streamed toward him.

  There were too many. How long would he be able to resist?

  He had to hold out.

  If nothing else, his time practicing with his father had taught him that he did have incredible swordsmanship. He might not be at the same level as his father, and he might not be anywhere near the swordsman that Brohmin had been, but he was not without his own ability.

  Endric darted forward, catching them off guard, and forced his attackers back.

  They formed a ring around him.

  Endric lunged forward, taking out one man before spinning, moving on to the next. He danced, moving from catah to catah, the forms flowing.

  As they did, everything seemed to slow for him.

  It had happened before while practicing, but not like his father promised it would. Endric was able to anticipate movements, note small twitches from his opponents, and use that to help him anticipate where they might attack next. He slashed, catching one man in the throat, the next in the arm, one on the leg. All began to fall.

  Endric's strength was failing, but he was not about to give up.

  More men continued to come.

  He would fight. He would take out as many as he could before falling. He would give Senda time; he would allow her to escape. His death would mean something.

  Endric screamed.

  His voice carried across the night sky, echoing loudly.

  He spun, the blade catching the faint moonlight, making it practically seem to glow. He ducked, noting an attack, jabbing up with the sword and slicing. Each attack flowed from one to the next.

  His arms began to become heavy.

  He didn't know how much longer he would be able to hold on.

  For Senda. He would do it for Senda.

  The attackers pressed in closer.

  There seemed to be an urgency to them now. It was almost as if they noticed that he was failing. They pushed forward, getting closer now, and a sword cut through his cloak. Pain streaked up his arm.

  Endric screamed again.

  He switched arms, fighting with his off hand. He rarely fought with his right, but now that he'd been s
lowed on the left, he would use that side as well, anything to buy Senda more time.

  The attackers’ urgency increased.

  Endric realized something: Not only did the urgency increase, but he heard shouts in the distance.

  Was that someone calling his name?

  Endric spun and slashed as he listened.

  Could it be Pendin?

  Hope surged in his chest. Endric fought with renewed passion, renewed energy. If it was Pendin, he couldn't fall now. He needed to help his friend and needed to help the other Denraen escape.

  And what of Senda? Could she have reached safety?

  Endric was determined to see that she did.

  His mouth was dry and tasted of blood. Still, he fought, unwilling to give up.

  Once more, his strength failed.

  There were still five men near him. Most were younger, and he suspected they weren't nearly as skilled as the first attackers.

  Endric surged toward them, swinging in one rapid arc, cutting them down.

  He staggered.

  Endric fell backward, landing on top of a body. Was this a man he'd killed, or was it someone who still lived and would find a knife and might step in with it?

  Then he saw a staff spinning, whizzing near him, smacking the remaining figures.

  Senda?

  The night fell silent.

  The figure leaned close to him, smelling of a hint of pine and rain, and Endric let out a nervous laugh that caused pain to run through his body.

  “Historian? What are you doing here?”

  Novan reached a hand toward him and noted Endric’s bleeding sleeve before shifting his help to grab him under the elbow. “Apparently, I'm helping one Denraen take down an entire Raver army.”

  Endric stood, panting. He looked around and realized that a few of the Ravers still lived, but they were bound and held by Pendin and the rest of the Denraen who had come with them. Senda was there, leaning on her staff, standing in front of three of the Ravers.

  “How is it that you're here?” Endric asked Novan.

  “Come, let us find a better place to sit. Then we can have our answers.”

  They set up camps near a copse of trees, far enough away from the Raver camp that they wouldn't draw the attention of any of the soldiers who might still be there, though Endric doubted many remained. The Denraen had taken nearly two dozen men prisoner.

  Novan had helped determine where they would camp, and none had been interested or willing to challenge him. For the most part, Endric knew Novan would lead them wisely. He’d proven that during their previous journey together, showing a willingness to not only lead but to know what needed to happen.

  “Why are you here?” Endric asked the historian.

  His bandaged arm still throbbed where he'd been cut. The gash was fairly deep, and he would need to have it stitched eventually, but he didn't have supplies for that.

  The historian glanced at his arm before reaching into a pouch and pulling out a fold of leather. As he did, he glanced around. “Perhaps I am here for the same reason that you are.”

  “Teralin?”

  Novan’s eyes narrowed. “You saw it?”

  “And sensed it.” When Novan frowned, Endric sighed. “More than once. There have been several men who were armed with teralin swords. The first time I encountered one, I didn't recognize the effects at first.”

  Novan nodded. “The Deshmahne had been the only ones willing to claim such blades.”

  “Why?” Endric asked.

  Senda took a seat next to him, crossing her legs and leaning on her elbows so that she propped her head up. She glanced from Endric to Novan. “You're the historian?”

  Novan offered a slight smile. “And you are Listain’s student,” he said.

  Senda's eyes widened slightly, enough of a mark of surprise that Endric had to wonder if Senda’s working with Listain was supposed to be a secret. Most within the Denraen knew that she worked with him. Then again, that was Listain’s reason for concern. He thought it important to have some secrecy with the network. Having most know that Senda worked with him prevented that secrecy.

  “You shouldn't be here, Historian,” Senda said.

  Novan arched brow. “Oh? Where should I be?”

  “Have you been following us?”

  “I'll admit that there are reasons to follow my friend Endric here,” Novan said. “But I have not been tracking him.”

  “Teralin?” Endric asked.

  Novan nodded, and Senda sighed. “Why are you following the teralin?”

  Novan scanned the cluster of Raver prisoners sitting near what was now the center of their camp. The men were all bound, and three Denraen stood guard over them. They would be taking watch half the night to keep their prisoners closely guarded. Somehow, they would have to march them toward a Denraen patrol or find a way to keep them confined. It would be a slow slog, one that Endric was not looking forward to.

  “The knowledge of that metal should not have escaped. Now it has twice.”

  “You mean the Deshmahne, and now these men?” Endric asked.

  Novan nodded. “If it were only the Deshmahne, that would be bad enough. They are led by a man who…” Novan shook his head. “No matter. The man who leads them has arcane knowledge that has long been lost.”

  “You knew of the teralin. You possess the same knowledge.”

  Novan met his gaze without looking away. “I did. There are those of us who keep such knowledge, holding it safe.”

  The comment reminded Endric of what Elizabeth had said. They were connected, though if Dendril was right, Elizabeth was not as connected to them as she once had been.

  Senda chewed on the inside of her lip. “What is it that you know about this metal?”

  Novan smiled tightly. “That is not for me to share.”

  Senda tipped her head to the side, studying him. “From the sound of your voice, you were trained within the Guild, but you are rumored to have come through the university as well. Is that true?”

  Novan watched her, and Endric wasn't certain whether it was amusement on his face or annoyance. “I have studied many places. The where of it is no longer important.”

  “I think it is. You see, we’ve been following the movements of the Ravers for the last few months. They’re dangerous and guided by someone with knowledge of where to attack for the most damage.”

  “You think to accuse me of these attacks?” Novan asked. “I’ve served the Denraen in ways you will never understand.”

  Senda shrugged. “I'm not sure who to accuse. All I know is that these men appeared within the last two years and their influence and attacks have quickly grown stronger.”

  “Could it have anything to do with Urik?” Endric asked.

  Senda shook her head. “The Ravers appeared before Urik abandoned the Denraen.”

  “And why do you think that excludes that possibility?” Novan asked.

  “Urik wouldn't have had time to work that angle as well,” Senda said.

  Endric thought about what Elizabeth had said. Urik had been planning a long time for his revenge. He had betrayed both the historian guild and the Denraen. Someone like that would have had enough foresight to plan something more, wouldn't they?

  Endric met Novan's gaze. “Is it him? Is that why he was in Thealon?”

  Novan shook his head. “I don't know why he was in Thealon. It could simply be that he thought to convince the church to allow him a reprieve, or it could be that he was using the protections of the church to coordinate his attacks. Whatever it is, know that Urik is a dangerous man. As I told you when I saw you last, Endric, I intend to ensure that he harms no one else the way that he has harmed both the guild and the Denraen.”

  Endric looked beyond Novan, taking in the soldiers. What did it mean for him that the Ravers had begun attacking before Urik had made his move? He had known that Urik was dangerous and that he had acted out of vengeance, but was it possible that he had coordinated this greater attack whil
e trying to still work with the Denraen?

  Could he have planned so far in advance?

  If so, he was even more dangerous than Elizabeth gave him credit for.

  Novan grabbed his injured arm, pulling the sleeve up. He had a needle and thread and began stitching, forcing Endric to grit his teeth while the historian sewed up his injured arm.

  “You mentioned a group of people who protected arcane knowledge.” Endric had to speak to distract himself, otherwise he might scream.

  “There are those who serve, their goal to protect lost knowledge. There are some who can have it and others who should not.”

  “This group is different than the Denraen? Different than the Magi?”

  Novan tipped his head. “There are representatives of both who are a part of this Conclave.”

  Conclave. Endric had heard that term before. “And one from the university?”

  Novan smiled tightly. “We have had representatives from the university in the past as well. All places of scholarship are represented within the Conclave.”

  “And the Deshmahne?” Endric thought he already knew the answer but wanted to confirm.

  “The Deshmahne work outside of the Conclave. They have their own goals, their own objectives. These run contrary to what the Conclave knows is necessary.”

  “Which is?”

  Novan finished stitching Endric's arm and slipped a knife from his belt, slicing off the remaining thread. He took a deep breath, shaking his head. “I have told you more than what I should have were the circumstances different. You have proven yourself more than once, which is why I have even shared this with you. But more than that, you would need to be welcomed into the Conclave to be given that information.”

  Novan’s gaze drifted to Senda. “And the answers you seek are found not within your network of spies, but in another place.”

  Senda’s brow furrowed and her eyes seemed to narrow, taking on some of the shadows of the night. “What do you know about what I search for?”

  “I know you, Senda Lashing. You went to the university thinking to find answers about your family, but the university would not have them.”

  Senda tensed. Endric looked at her, watching her. She never spoke of her family, and other than learning that she attended the University, Endric knew very little about where she had been before she joined the Denraen. It was different than with Pendin, who had grown up in the city and had his own history with his family. All he knew was about Listain, and the connection between them, but nothing more.