His mind began working through tactical maneuvers that he had learned. Many he had studied, reading about them, though there were some he had learned from his father, or Listain, or even Andril, back when he lived.
“We need to get word to the general.” Fennah looked to the north. Vasha would be too far away for them to make a run for it.
“We don't need to lose another commanding officer.” Endric met her eyes. “You need to return; you’re valuable to Dendril.” Already on this journey, he had found several times what he expected not to survive. What was one more?
“I can't leave this command to you,” Fennah said.
Endric took a deep breath. “I may not have earned my rank the same as you, but that doesn't mean that I don't serve the Denraen. I would serve them best by staying here. Besides,” he said, glancing at her, “I'm better with the sword than you. This will be fought on horseback. There's a limit to how effective you can be fighting with the staff while mounted.”
She took a deep breath, finally nodding. “I'll take only a pair of men with me. It should be enough to get us back to Vasha.”
“Circle west. Only when you reach Laurent should you head north again.”
She eyed him strangely before finally nodding. She hurried off and quickly left the camp. Endric hoped she would be able to reach his father and get word to Dendril. He needed to know what they faced.
Pendin appeared next to him, leading Endric’s horse. “What's the plan?”
Endric motioned to the approaching army. “The plan? The plan is to fight. And if that fails, well, then we die.”
28
Endric's horse surged forward, crashing into another soldier. The attack was not going well. Several of the Denraen had fallen, leaving Endric and a small group fighting in a cluster by themselves. Somewhere nearby, he could hear Senda’s staff whistling through the air.
He was surprised to discover how deadly she could be while mounted. She had refused to go with Fennah, determined to take whatever revenge she could for Listain’s death. Endric didn't blame her for wanting revenge but wondered if perhaps she was doing the exact same thing she had warned him against with Urik.
Another soldier slipped past the front line of Denraen. Endric spurred his horse forward, slashing at the man.
He glanced back at Pendin, noting that he seemed to have faded somewhat. Another attacker slipped through, and Senda smacked him in the head with her staff, knocking the attacker from the saddle.
“How much longer do you think we can last?” Pendin asked.
Endric shook his head. “As long as we can. We can't let them overwhelm us.”
He shot his friend a look, realizing that Pendin asked for himself. His injury made fighting difficult, but he had continued to press on, fighting when he should already be dead.
Endric sat up in the saddle, staring at the battle. He wished he had a better vantage, wanting to be able to direct the action more effectively. Waves of Ravers moved on them, making their attack difficult.
“Senda, can you take a regiment to the north?”
She nodded.
“Pendin, are you well enough to stay here, and lead this regiment?”
He squeezed his sword and nodded brusquely. “What do you think you're going to do?”
“I'm going to go do something stupid.”
Pendin started to laugh, but a cough cut him off.
Endric clasped his friend on the shoulder and slapped the side of his horse, heading away from the fighting. He rode at a hard gallop until he was able to loop around, getting a sense of the scale of the fight. He suspected that they had miscounted. The Ravers had more than a thousand men. With a thousand men, the Denraen might have managed better. Their skill and training should have outweighed that difference in numbers. But there were probably twice the numbers they had known about.
The Ravers attacked straight ahead, driving into the Denraen troops. If Senda could make it around to the north, she could draw some of the attention away, splitting the Ravers, creating some chaos. The Denraen could take advantage of that.
Endric could create additional chaos.
He kicked his horse again, surging into the line of foot soldiers.
The horse was a seasoned warhorse, well-trained, and kicked men out of the way. Endric slashed, leaning from the saddle, driving the now positively charged teralin sword through them.
He took down six soldiers before they realized he was there, and by that time he was galloping back in the distance, appearing as if he retreated.
He looped back around, repeating the motion, barreling into the fighters again, taking down ten before they were able to react and turn toward him. The horse caught a sword on its flank, but Endric kicked the man holding the sword and severed his hand.
Once more, he feigned retreat.
Endric did that again and again. Each time, he barreled in, and each time, he retreated before they were able to react.
After a while, the men on foot began to turn toward him, growing more concerned with what he was doing.
That was exactly what Endric wanted.
Pendin led the Denraen, driving them into the now-disorganized Ravers.
Denraen fought. The Ravers fell.
Endric continued to plunge forward, attacking with violence.
And then everything went quiet.
He heard calls from within the Ravers side, calling for surrender.
Endric rode forward, looping back around to rejoin Pendin. His friend was bloodied, a gash along his arm, but a grim smile crossed his face.
“Well,” Pendin began, clutching a hand to his side. “Looks like you weren't that stupid after all.”
Endric took a deep breath, sighing. They had managed to stop this Raver attack, but would others return? How much more would they be able to withstand?
Endric met the regiments of Denraen at the base of Vasha. He had returned toward Vasha, carrying Listain’s body and escorting the remaining Ravers with him. He wasn't certain what to do with them, deciding that he would leave that to his father, but had no interest in leaving them free to roam the countryside.
The ride north once more had taken on a somber tone. They had lost not only Listain but almost a hundred men in the fighting as well. It was the largest loss of life for the Denraen in many years. Despite losing so many men, the Ravers had lost ten times that many. That left a thousand men for them to escort toward Vasha. Endric wondered what his father would do with them.
He was surprised to find his father leading a company south out of Vasha.
“General,” he said with a nod.
His eyes narrowed. “It's true then.”
Endric tipped his head. “What's true?”
“They think to attack openly now.”
Endric shrugged. “They attack openly, but it's worse than that. The Ravers are led by Urik.”
“You're certain of this?”
Endric nodded. “As certain as I can be. We had captured a man they referred to as the commander.” He looked around, noting that there weren't many of the Denraen paying attention to him or his father. Most were busy establishing camp for the night. Even were they to return to Vasha, it would be another two day’s ride up the mountainside. Most of the men were tired, exhausted from the effort of their ride.
“He gave them the secret of teralin,” Endric said.
“You saw this?”
Endric unsheathed the sword and held it out for his father to take. “This was negatively charged teralin. We came across the historian, and he was able to change the polarity.”
“That shouldn't be possible.”
Endric shrugged again. “I'm not sure what is possible anymore. All I know is that Novan changed the polarity of the sword. As he did, it no longer tainted those that it had before.”
Dendril examined the blade, his gaze slipping along its length. As he did, he breathed out heavily. “This is a finely crafted sword.”
“It is. I used it in the fighting.�
�
Dendril nodded. “What would you do, Endric?”
Endric met his father's gaze. The question seemed so simple, yet he recognized the complexity within it. His father was asking not only for his opinion but what his Denraen would do.
What did Endric want? More than that, what did the Denraen need for him to do?
Were the two that different? He didn't think so, not anymore.
“You asked that Listain and I head south to learn of the Deshmahne. We… I… violated that command and went after Senda.” Dendril watched him, and Endric plunged forward. He would be honest with his father—his general. “But we learned much. This attack is because of Urik. He leads the Ravers against the Denraen.”
“I concur. What would you have us do about it?”
Endric looked at his father. At that moment, he was acting not as his father's son, but as the en’raen for the entirety of the Denraen. His father had never treated him with the kind of respect that he now saw. His father had never seemed to value his opinion. What had changed?
“I think you should look to Fennah or Theran.”
“Neither of them have faced the Ravers, have they? Listain sent word that you had been valuable and that you were showing true leadership. I would ask that you continue to show true leadership.”
“The Ravers weren’t organized before Urik’s arrival like they are now. They might have been a danger, but they weren't the kind of danger that they are now. They possess the knowledge of teralin, and they have grown in strength and numbers.” Endric wondered how much of that was the influence of the teralin. There was something about the metal, especially negatively charged metal, that seemed to generate that hatred. Had Urik used that against the Denraen? “We need to remove him, Father.”
Dendril met his gaze. Endric wasn't sure what his father was thinking and didn't know whether he would agree with him or if he would dismiss him. If Dendril dismissed him, it would leave him in no different place than he was currently in. If he didn't, how would Endric suggest going after him? Listain had been the one Urik feared. Was there some way that Endric could use that against him?
“I concur,” Dendril said.
The word hung heavy in the air. “How am I supposed to get to him?”
Dendril looked past Endric at the line of Denraen before turning his attention back to his son. “This is not the kind of attack where you will need hundreds of men. You have shown your ability to lead when it comes to battlefield warfare. Now you must see if you can lead when it comes to a different type of fighting.”
“How many will I need?”
Dendril shook his head. “Getting to Urik will be difficult, especially if the rumors about him are accurate.”
“You've known where he was.”
Dendril nodded. “I have known. There are limits to where he could have gone. I didn't think he would've used his time against the Denraen. I didn't think that his betrayal had gone so deep. Now that I see that it has, it’s time to put an end to this threat. I will lead the Denraen as we remove the Raver threat while you remove Urik from Thealon.”
It was a heavy responsibility, and his father allowed it, knowing how Endric felt about Urik. “Must it be only Denraen I bring with me?”
Dendril tipped his head to the side. “If not Denraen, who would you bring?”
Endric thought about Novan and how well he fought. The historian had wanted to reach Urik has much as Endric had. There was another who wanted to reach him, one who Endric wouldn't have thought of had it not been for his sneaking through the mines.
“There are a few I would ask. And for them, I might need your help.”
“Why my help?”
“Because I need you to send word to the Conclave.”
Dendril studied him for a moment and then nodded. “I concur.”
29
Endric led Senda and Pendin as they traveled toward the Rondall River. It felt strange to be on a mission outside of Vasha with only the three of them, stranger still to do so with his father's permission. There was no questioning what he was to do or why they were here. There was no doubting his role or the role of those with him. It was a dangerous task, one that he was determined to see succeed. They had to find Urik in Thealon, risking the priests, and draw him out.
If only he could figure out how.
“Do you think your father is going to manage to get us some help?” Senda asked.
They camped near the river. The Rondall rushed past with a soft burbling sound that should be soothing but only managed to leave Endric on edge. To the north, the river reached the city of Riverbranch, where it split into two arms, one traveling deeper into the mountains and one stretching far into the north. To the south, the Rondall ran into the city of Chrysia. There were villages of various sizes along the way, and all would have been in danger had the Ravers grown in strength.
Dendril sent hundreds of soldiers on patrol, determined to root out the remaining Ravers. Had he acted this aggressively before, Endric doubted that the Ravers would have gained the strength that they had, and he doubted Urik would have managed to gain control of them. Now, they needed to sneak into Thealon and risk themselves at the center of the gods so they could draw out a man who should not be a threat.
“My father was going to get word to the Conclave.”
“The historian said that as well. Why haven’t I heard of this Conclave before now?”
Endric didn't know how to explain it. “I know that my father is a reluctant part of it. The historian you met was a part. There is a man by the name of Brohmin, someone they call the Hunter, who is a part as well. And Mage Tresten.”
“And why would this Conclave be able to help with the search?”
“You saw the arcane knowledge that the historian seems to possess?” Senda nodded. “The Conclave protects that. I don't know much more than that, other than I think they fight on the side of good. It was members of the Conclave who helped prevent the Deshmahne attack on Vasha. It was because of the Conclave that we stopped them. For that matter, it was because of Novan that we were able to capture the commander.”
Senda glanced at Pendin, who tended the fire. “Have I told you what I studied at the University?”
Endric shook his head. “You don't speak of that time very often. And you’ve never told me that you studied with Pendin’s mother.”
“How do you think he and I met? She connected me to the Denraen, but in reality, Listain was the one who connected me with her. Usually, it goes the other way, but he wanted me trained by the University first, so that I could be effective when I joined him in the Denraen.”
A soft breeze carried the scent of the small campfire to Endric's nostrils. There was something simple and clean about it. It was a pleasant scent, one that was nothing like the horrible stench of blood and death that he'd experienced over the last week. “What did you study at the University?”
“Vasha.”
“Vasha?”
She smiled. “I studied the city.” She leaned on her elbows, staring at the fire. “Did you know that before the Magi came, there were stories of the gods settled on that mountain city?”
“The Lashiin ruins.”
Senda nodded. “The ruins. There are other ruins found all over. Places of power, if you believe the rumors.”
Endric remembered one such place from his time outside of the city, when he had ridden with the Antrilii. They had stopped for a night at one of the ruins and Endric remembered feeling the strange tingling sense, the sensation that there was power present. How could he deny the power of the gods when he was able to feel it in the Lashiin ruins of Vasha, and the ruins found outside of the city?
“What does this have to do with what you studied at the University?” Endric asked.
“I don't know,” Senda said, shaking her head. She pressed her hair back behind her ears and didn't take her eyes off the fire. “Only that with that power, it's clear that there are forces in the world that we don't understand.”
“It's more than just Magi. There are others with power. You’ve seen it. Think of the Deshmahne. What you describe of this historian makes me think something similar. If he has power that is similar, who is to say others of this Conclave don't share in that?”
Endric frowned. It was a good question. What powers did Novan possess? What about Brohmin? He still didn't understand the powers of the Deshmahne, other than the fact that they somehow drew strength from the teralin. If they could access that and use it, what other powers could they utilize?
For that matter, could he use the power trapped within teralin?
He glanced at the positively charged teralin sword that he carried. He hadn’t felt anything when fighting with it, so maybe he couldn’t.
Novan had alluded to those who were sensitive to its effects, who could feel the teralin. Endric could detect it. That had been very clear from the first time he encountered the Deshmahne, feeling the darkness that emanated from them.
If he were somehow sensitized to it by carrying the sword, would it mean he could utilize it in the same way the Deshmahne could? If he could, what would he be able to do?
They were questions without good answers. They were the kind of questions that led only to more questions.
“What if this Conclave you now know of protects some of these powers?” Senda asked. “What if that type of power is what Urik is after?”
“Then we'll have to ask the historian when we see him next.”
“You think he'll tell you?”
“I'm not exactly sure what the historian would share with me. He’s secretive, but he’s helped me as well. Without him, I would've been killed by the commander. I might never have made it back to Vasha when the Deshmahne attacked.”
They sat quietly, the sounds of the night growing around them. Pendin gave them space, sitting off to the side, chewing on a stick of jerky. He had been fairly quiet in the days since they had left the base of the mountain, departing with Dendril's permission. He had healed quickly, leading Endric to wonder how Novan had managed to help as much as he had. More questions for the historian.
Soldier Sword (The Teralin Sword Book 2) Page 23