Soldier Song (The Teralin Sword Book 6)

by D. K. Holmberg

  A man sitting on one of the chairs glanced up as Endric pushed open the door. He frowned at Endric for a moment, and his gaze seemed to quickly take in the ring on his finger. He nodded. “You are here for testing?”

  Endric stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. What else was there to do?

  “I am,” he said.

  “And who is your master?”

  “Novan,” Endric said.

  The man frowned at him. “Novan? I didn’t realize that he proposed anyone for testing.”

  “I guess it’s rare,” he said.

  The man stared at him. He had piercing gray eyes and deeply tanned skin, but he wore a plain drab-colored robe, one that would stand out anywhere else, but in this place, it seemed as if nothing would really stand out.

  “Where is Novan?”

  “We got separated. I was on the way to Coamdon, and he told me to complete the journey.”

  That was near enough to the truth that it shouldn’t matter.

  “So Novan is planning to come to Coamdon?”

  Endric nodded. “He will be here.” And considering that he had slept, it was possible that Novan would be here today. Would Novan know to come looking for him, or would he wait, wanting to search for Endric? If he did, there would be no sign of him within the city. Endric had barely had any time in Coamdon before he had gotten caught up with Poaln. Novan might think that he had been stranded on the ship, or somehow injured, killed by the attackers.

  “Interesting. I think that most of us will be quite interested in seeing Novan once again.”

  “I’ll make sure to let him know.”

  The man smiled at him. “Who was your first test?”

  “Poaln.”

  The man grunted. “Poaln? He takes quite a bit of joy in being the first. It’s a wonder that he allowed you to leave.”

  “I’m not sure that he wanted to hold me back,” Endric said.

  “Probably not, but he does enjoy his ability to pick up on apprentices who come to the city, and he takes every opportunity that he can to test them. I suppose you’ve heard that about him?”

  Endric shook his head. “I only came to Coamdon yesterday.”

  “One day. Ah. It’s unfortunate that you encountered Poaln so quickly, then. Most would have a few days within the city to come to terms with what is expected of them.”

  “I’m not sure that I even know what’s expected of me. I’m still trying to understand what will happen with this testing.”

  “With the testing, you will continue to prove your worth to the guild. Not all pass, as I’m sure you know.”

  “What happens if I don’t pass?”

  “If you don’t pass, then you will not be able to progress within the guild.”

  It seemed as if there was more than that, that the man was keeping something from him, though what would it be? “Novan hasn’t told me what would happen. He hasn’t shared whether I will be able to continue to work with him if I don’t pass the testing.”

  “Novan following the rules? Interesting,” he said.

  That was a different response than the one that he had gotten from Poaln, who had thought that Novan would remain strict with the rules of the testing. How many people knew Novan?

  Maybe the better question was how many people really knew Novan?

  From Endric’s experience, not many did. Novan was mysterious, even within the guild, and perhaps that was to Endric’s advantage. If the others didn’t know anything about Novan, they wouldn’t be able to know who he would select as an apprentice, and they wouldn’t be able to know whether Endric was truly an apprentice or not.

  “I’m sorry to have interrupted,” Endric said.

  The man waved his hand. “You haven’t interrupted. You are welcome within the library, especially now that you are here for testing. If you fail, there is no harm in your presence here. And if you pass? Then you will be granted access to the library all you want.” He smiled, and Endric couldn’t help but feel as if there was a little bit of menace within the expression.

  Endric made his way along the row of shelves. He stared at them, looking at the books before pulling one off the shelf and flipping through the pages. When he was done, he moved on to another, and then to another. All were similar. They were all journals, and they reminded him of what he had seen from Novan. The historian made notes in something similar, and these were similar to the journal Novan had given him to practice documenting. They were historian journals.

  Endric continued to make his way around the inside of the library, scanning the rows of books. Someone must have gone through all of these, and he could imagine that they had spent countless hours reading through them. Senda would have loved to be here, but something like that simply had no appeal to him.

  But for Novan, he knew that would be incredibly appealing.

  Endric simply wasn’t a historian. He had no interest in becoming an actual historian, and he wondered what he was doing. Spending his time in the library, and submitting himself for testing, seemed almost as if he were going much farther than what he really needed to do.

  Would his father approve of this?

  Most of the time, Endric didn’t worry about what Dendril might think, and while he had known that his father approved of his coming here, he knew that Dendril would have preferred Endric to have stayed behind in Vasha.

  “Do you see anything that intrigues you?” the historian asked.

  “I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” Endric admitted.

  The man appeared behind him and frowned, studying Endric. He was taller, much taller than most men, and as Endric thought about it, he realized that Poaln had been tall, too. Even the wizard and old Master Hames had been quite tall, which surprised Endric. Were all of the historians like that?

  “You begin where your interest guides you,” the man said. “In the case of Novan, I suspect that he continues to remain intrigued by the Urmahne, at least based on the journals he sends to us.”

  That was news to Endric. “Novan sends journals to you?”

  The historian nodded. “One of the responsibilities of the historians is to record their knowledge, and they are required to send their work on to the guild.”

  Endric had wondered what Novan did with the journals he kept, and now he knew. He hadn’t kept them, stacking journal after journal up somewhere. He had sent them to the guild for keeping. But from what Endric knew of Novan, he had a hard time believing that the historian would have been willing to part with the documentation he made.

  There had to be duplicates.

  “How many of these are the originals?”

  The historian smiled tightly. “Does Novan not send the originals?”

  Endric shrugged. “I don’t honestly know what Novan sends to the guild. It just seems to me that he—and others—would be reluctant to send on their original documentation.”

  “Why is that?”

  “If they are anything like me, they would want to reorganize their thoughts, and there would be notes, a different type of recordkeeping than what they would want to share with others.”

  The historian nodded. “You are absolutely correct. Most historians like to keep theirs. It’s part of the reason that the originals are as valuable as they are. They may not be nearly as organized as what we ultimately see, but they have something else that many of these works,” he said, sweeping his hand around the inside of the library, “do not have. They have a sense of interpretation. Historians are trained to keep our interpretation out of our works, and simply to document what we observe, but most of us have a hard time not raising questions about what things mean, specifically as we observe them.”

  “And with everything that you are given the opportunity to observe, you would have a greater understanding and perhaps a greater ability to interpret the events going on around you.”

  The historian nodded. “Very true.” He looked around before turning his gaze back on Endric. “And what of your documentation?
Do you have a particular style that you have acquired?”

  Endric had only begun to practice with his documentation, and he hadn’t put much time into it, so he didn’t know that he had much of an answer, but he nodded anyway. It was the expected response.

  “Very good. It’s good for you to gain a technique,” he said.

  “Novan would have me copying his style, but it doesn’t suit my way of thinking,” he said. He thought about what Novan had instructed him to do, the way that he had asked for Endric to document, but it didn’t feel quite right. It was strange that he was able to determine that so quickly, but he wanted to sound authentic with this historian, and in that, he thought that he could at least share a truth that he had discovered.

  “It often takes apprentices quite a long time to realize that they don’t have to do everything that their masters teach. Often, some apprentices never learn that. They think that they need to do everything that they learn from their masters, and fail to realize that they can come up with their own methods. Oftentimes, their methods are as effective, or perhaps even more so, especially for them. Each person thinks through things differently, which lends a certain flavor to the guild.” He made a point of sweeping his hand around the library again, and he motioned to the books. “When you come to read through them, you will begin to pick up on specific styles. Eventually, you will come to know which historian you are reading from simply by the nature of their works. It doesn’t take long for you to become incredibly capable with that.”

  “I guess it’s something to aspire to,” he said.

  “I imagine that you would already be able to identify Novan’s works,” he said.

  “You might be surprised,” Endric said.

  “Is that right? Novan doesn’t allow you to read through his records?”

  “He would prefer that I make my own notes, and as I do, he would prefer that I make my own way.”

  “There is wisdom in that,” the historian said. “When two people observe the same thing, it’s easy to have your observation clouded by another. What is more difficult is learning how to observe in an unbiased fashion. Removing that bias is difficult, and many times, people never realize how much their own bias interacts with what they observe.”

  The historian followed Endric through the library, and as he was watched, Endric couldn’t help but wonder if there was something that the historian was trying to get out of him. Maybe it was nothing more than his desire to learn about Novan, but why?

  “Novan will be here soon,” Endric said.

  The historian nodded. “That’s what you said.”

  “And then my testing should be over.”

  The historian shook his head. “The testing is only over when the guild masters have decided that it’s over. When it comes to testing an apprentice Novan has sent, I imagine that you will find yourself more rigorously tested than others.”

  “Why?”

  “Novan has something of a reputation, as I’m sure you’re aware. He has unsettled a great number of the guild.”

  “I’m not aware,” Endric said. He turned to face the historian, a debate warring within him. Was he to pretend that he was the demure apprentice to a historian, or should he be more open about the fact that he could handle himself in a fight? There was no question that he was armed, and he would be expected to have some skill, especially as he carried his sword openly throughout the guildhall.

  Endric couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling that he had. Maybe it was only in his mind, but it seemed almost as if the guild wanted him unsettled, and strangely, they continued to push him, though at the same time, they gave him a certain measure of freedom and space.

  He needed to understand just what it was that Novan thought to learn by sending him here, but there didn’t seem to be anything. Why would he have wanted Endric to come here, especially if he knew that Endric would be subjected to a testing?

  “Novan is unique within the guild, though not as unique as he would have many believe,” the historian said.

  “And what does that have to do with anything?”

  “Only that Novan thinks to involve himself a little more directly in events of the world.”

  “Novan observes, nothing more.”

  The other man laughed. “Novan doing nothing more than observing? Now I know that you are trying to confuse me. I don’t know Novan all that well, but I know him well enough, and I’ve traveled through places that he has been before. His influence is obvious, especially to those who know how to observe.”

  Endric thought about his earliest experience with Novan. When he had encountered him on the road while traveling with the Antrilii, had he thought that Novan was more than an observer? He certainly had come across as someone with knowledge, but that didn’t mean that he interfered.

  “I’ve never seen Novan do anything other than observe,” he said.

  The historian chuckled softly. “Perhaps, but perhaps not. As I said, I have some experience with Novan, and most of it tells me that he finds himself to be of more importance than the rest of the guild.”

  Endric couldn’t argue with that. Novan did view himself quite highly, but then, there was reason for him to feel that way. “I think that I’m going to return to my room,” he said.

  “And then what?”

  “I don’t know. Wait for the next test.”

  The man flashed a smile and made his way back to the table and chair, turning his back on Endric, who waited for a moment, scanning the inside of the library, before turning and leaving.

  When he was outside, he hesitated. He could return to his room, or he could explore more of the guildhall, but more than that, there was something else that he thought he should do. He headed toward the main door leading into the guildhall and tested the lock to see if he was trapped here, but found that it was open. He stepped outside, taking a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sea air.

  Would he disrupt Novan’s planning too much if he left? It wasn’t that he couldn’t return, but staying here, remaining within the guild and trying to understand exactly what it was that he was here for, didn’t feel quite like a good use of his time, especially if Novan was coming in by ship and quite possibly would be arriving soon. He needed to find him before Varian, and the others did, and he needed to warn him. More than that, he needed to try to get a sense of what else would be expected of him.

  He made his way back down the road, passing through the gate. As he did, the same chill washed over him that he’d felt before, a strange sensation that he found unsettling.

  When he had gone a ways along the road, he paused and turned back, looking up at the fortress. From here, it practically blended into the rock wall. It had a sense of age to it, and the moss crawling along the sides and the crumbling stone made it seem decrepit, but inside was a different matter. There was a sense of age there, but it was far better maintained.

  How did they defend this place?

  Was it merely that others didn’t know about it? It seemed a difficult way to ensure the safety of the records the historians claimed had significant value. There didn’t seem to be any fighters surrounding it, and without having any way to defend it, what prevented someone who wanted to gain access to those archives from doing so?

  From what Endric could tell, there was no way to stop someone from gaining access. Why so secretive about this place, then?

  Something didn’t feel right, and Endric had honed his instincts over the years to recognize that when something didn’t feel quite right, it probably wasn’t.

  As he stared up at the fortress, he had a sense that someone watched him, though there were only a few windows along the outside. Why would they be watching? What would they be looking for?

  No one had made any attempt to stop him, which told him that he had been free to go, but did his leaving mean that he had abandoned his testing?

  He would find Novan, and then he would discover what else he might be missing.

  He had turned away from t
he fortress, continuing down the road, when something struck him in the shoulder.

  Weakness quickly washed over him, and he realized too late that he had made a mistake.

  17

  When he came around, Endric realized that he was back in the fortress. It wasn’t so much the look of the walls as it was the stench within it that gave it away. There was something of a musty odor, and it clung to everything, filling the room. Mixed within it was something else, a strange, pungent aroma.

  He was in a darkened room, a single lantern giving a soft light, and his entire body ached. It seemed almost as if his body didn’t want to work the way it should, but maybe it was just whatever they had used to sedate him that made him feel that way.

  He didn’t see anyone else with him.

  He tried to remember what he had experienced, trying to remember what he had been doing, and could only remember that he had been making his way from the fortress. He had been attacked, something striking him in the shoulder, but what would it have been?

  Considering the way he felt, and his dry mouth and achy body, he had to believe that it was some sort of poisoning. Again.

  In the time since he had come to Coamdon, he had been poisoned, tested, and now attacked. What were they after?

  It was more than merely a testing for his capacity to join the guild. That much Endric was sure of, especially now. And there was the strangeness of the guild itself.

  “You’re awake,” a voice said.

  Endric tried to sit up, but his wrists were bound. He glanced over and realized that his ankles were bound, too. He should have known well enough to test for any restraints the moment he came around, but he had been trying to understand what had happened to him.

  He jerked on his restraints and chains rattled, holding him in place.

  This wasn’t something that he could break out of through sheer force.

  Now there was something else that he would need to do. He would have to be convincing, play the part of Novan’s historian, and persuade them to release him.

  Hopefully he could be persuasive.