Soldier Scarred Read online

  Table of Contents

  Map

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Author’s Note

  Also by D.K. Holmberg

  Soldier Scarred

  The Teralin Sword

  D.K. Holmberg

  ASH Publishing

  Copyright © 2017 by D.K. Holmberg

  Cover art by Damonza

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  If you want to be notified when D.K. Holmberg’s next novel is released and get free stories and occasional other promotions, please sign up for his mailing list by going here. Your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.

  www.dkholmberg.com

  Contents

  Map

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Author’s Note

  Also by D.K. Holmberg

  Map

  1

  Endric leaned toward the crackling flame, inhaling the smoke from the campfire. There was something relaxing about sitting in front of a flame like this, a simple familiarity that brought him back to a time before his life became as complicated as it currently was. The fire pushed back some of the chill from the night, though the day had been warm, and he didn’t entirely need the heat. He stared at the flames, watching them dance in the growing darkness, ignoring Senda sitting across from him.

  “Do you intend to speak with me at all?” she said, breaking the silence between them. Her voice was a whisper and meant for his ears alone.

  He knew how difficult it was for her to express her frustration—and her emotion—with him. “What’s there for me to say? You think I abandoned you.”

  “Me? If it were only about me, I wouldn’t be nearly so disappointed. I’ve seen how you treated other women, Endric. I would be a fool if I thought there wasn’t a possibility of the same thing happening to me.”

  “I would never do that to you.”

  “No? So you’ve abandoned the Denraen, then?”

  Endric pulled his gaze away from the flames and looked over at Senda. She had a lean face and shadows flickered across it, giving her a dangerous expression that she did not need. Senda was dangerous enough on her own. “I didn’t abandon you, and I didn’t abandon the Denraen. I was abducted.”

  Her gaze flickered past him for a moment. It was only a moment, but it was enough for him to hope that she might finally believe him. Even after he told her what had happened, the way that Urik had managed to best him and abduct him from the city, she still didn’t want to believe.

  Endric hated that he had lied to her.

  Then again, had he not, he would have had to explain why he had willingly gone to Thealon with Urik. Endric wasn’t entirely certain himself, other than he had needed to know what had happened to Tresten. Had he not—had he simply remained behind—there wouldn’t have been anything he could have done to help the Mage. The merahl would have remained twisted, and perhaps hunted.

  No. Endric had done what was necessary, which didn’t make it easy. Worse, Senda had been with him through much of what he had experienced, but even she didn’t fully understand all that he had seen. How could she, as she wasn’t Antrilii and wasn’t gifted with teralin?

  “Dendril tells me it isn’t your intent to return to Vasha.”

  The change of topic was jarring, which only served to confirm how angry with him she was.

  “No. Not yet, at least. I’ll return to Vasha, but there’s something I must do first.”

  “Dendril only tells me part of this need.”

  Now he had the reason for her frustration. Senda served as his father’s Raen, a position that had once been Listain's before his death. He understood why she felt she should know why his father allowed him to make this next journey, with Tresten's body. “I’m sorry. If Dendril won’t share, then neither can I.”

  She sighed, staring at him for a moment over the crackling flames before finally leaning back. “You haven’t even asked about Pendin yet.”

  Endric licked his lips. “I left Pendin with his mother.”

  “As I’m sure you understand, that angered him.”

  “What choice did I have? If I did nothing, Pendin was going to drink himself into oblivion. I couldn’t let that happen to a good soldier like him. I couldn’t let a friend destroy himself.”

  Senda sniffed. “That’s a sentiment I know only too well.”

  “And I’ve changed. You’ve seen that I’ve changed. You were there—”

  Senda shook her head. “I haven’t been there. I was with you in Thealon, but I haven’t been a part of anything else, Endric. I don’t understand what is taking place, or any of what you’ve experienced.”

  Endric glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the Denraen camped nearby. Most of them sat talking quietly, though a few had separated from the rest to practice sword work. In that, it was much like any other patrol party. His father sat next to Novan, having a heated discussion with the historian. Endric noted the hint of a smirk on Novan’s face and suspected his father was having the worst of it.

  “I’ve shared with you what I can, but there is much that I don’t know, and much that I’m not able to share.”

  “That clearly affects the Denraen.”

  Endric turned his full attention back to her. “Everything affects the Denraen. It’s our purpose to help maintain peace.”

  “And yet, if it affects the Denraen, having their leadership remain in the dark about what is taking place seems to be a mistake.”

  “I can see if my father—”

  “I’ve not asked your father. I’ve asked you.”

  Endric shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m allowed to share. What you’re asking is beyond what I think I can tell you,” he said.

  Sadness clouded her face. “So that’s how it will be?”

  “Senda—”

  She stood and spun,
leaving him sitting at the fire by himself. Endric turned his attention back to the crackling flame, hating that he didn’t feel as if he could share with the one person who truly had been there for him. When he’d made mistakes through his angry phase, it had been Senda—and Pendin—who had been there for him. Had they not, Endric would have never become the soldier—and the man—that he was.

  He owed her this.

  Endric had started toward Senda when Urik appeared out of the shadows. He had a plain-looking face, and age had weathered the corners of his eyes, leaving deep creases. “You need to be careful how much you share with her.”

  Endric glared at him. “I don’t need to be taking advice from you,” he said. He let out a heaving sigh and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Urik. That’s uncalled for.”

  Urik forced a smile. “I understand the pressures you’re under. Keeping secrets is never easy, especially from those you care about.”

  Endric grunted. “The kind of secrets you were keeping are quite a bit different than this.”

  “Yet they were secrets. And as much as it might be difficult for you to believe, I care deeply about those I worked with in the Denraen.”

  Endric sniffed. “I don’t find that difficult to believe at all. On the contrary, I think had you not cared for us, you might have done even more damage.”

  That had been difficult to come to grips with, but had Urik wanted to harm the Denraen more than he had, he certainly could have. Urik knew enough secrets that he could have shared with the Deshmahne—or the Ravers. Those secrets would have been very damaging to the Denraen. Despite the fact that Urik was under the influence of negatively charged teralin, he must have fought it, opposing the effects of the metal.

  “You’re going to have to find a way to share what you can with her, especially if you intend any sort of relationship with her.”

  Endric watched Senda take a place near the rest of the Denraen. She sat off to the side, away from them, and notably away from Dendril as he sat with Novan. Had she attempted to take a place near him and been dismissed? Endric could imagine how much that would hurt Senda and her pride.

  “I don’t know how much of a relationship we can have. Has anyone in the Denraen successfully maintained a relationship with others?”

  Urik chuckled. “I’ll admit, that one would be uncommon. If any could accomplish it, it would be you and Senda.”

  “Maybe she once would have wanted it, but I’ve begun to think that is not what she’s interested in.”

  “And what are you interested in?”

  Endric glanced over at the man. This was a person he had spent months searching for. He had spent months wanting nothing more than to find him and kill him, and now they were having a conversation about Endric's desires for a life and future with Senda? It seemed surreal, yet after the time they had spent traveling together, Endric had a renewed appreciation for Urik and all that he had experienced. Urik had suffered and had experienced as much—or more—loss as Endric had.

  “I want to have a chance to be with her,” Endric said. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted with her.”

  “Then you can’t let her stubbornness push you away.”

  “It’s not stubbornness. It’s a recognition that there are challenges between us that might not be fixable.”

  Urik laughed. There was an easygoing nature to it, but still a hint of darkness within him. With everything Urik had been through, and with the way he had been tainted by the negatively charged teralin, it was unsurprising that he should still have an edge. “Neither of you is dead, so whatever you fear remains fixable.”

  Endric looked in Senda's direction, staring at her, before shaking his head and making his way to her. He took a seat across from her, crossing his legs and resting his elbows upon them.

  “You should leave me alone,” Senda said.

  “Is that a command or only a request?”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Which will make you more likely to obey?”

  “Senda, I—”

  She looked up at him and shook her head. “No. You don’t.”

  “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

  “I know you well enough to know that you would think to argue with me, and that you would think to try and convince me that you were making a choice for the right reasons. Even before you decided to stop being such an ass, you always thought to rationalize your decisions.”

  “I’m not going to try to rationalize anything. I only wanted to tell you why I can’t return to Vasha.”

  She looked up, waiting expectantly. Senda had been the Keeper of Secrets and a spymaster before she was promoted. It had to be hard for her not to know the answers to her questions.

  Endric held her gaze for a moment, letting it linger, before glancing over at his father. “You’ve heard of the Conclave.” When he turned back, he found her nodding.

  “You haven’t been nearly as secretive about it as you think.”

  Endric shrugged. “I haven’t intended to be secretive. I haven’t known anything more about the Conclave than what you probably know. What I do know tells me that they are keepers of knowledge, and it’s that knowledge Urik sought.”

  “And now Urik is allowed to join them. You don’t think that’s unwise, especially after everything he has done to the Denraen?”

  “I’m not sure what to make of it. If it were up to me, I probably wouldn’t have allowed Urik to live nearly as long as he has. First my father brought him in, and now Tresten did before his death. For whatever reason, they both believed Urik could be redeemed.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “I don’t know whether he should be redeemed. With everything that he did, everyone that he hurt, there has to be a part of him that remains tainted.” Endric could see it at times. Urik could hide it and managed to create enough of an air of scholarship that made others think he might be saved, but Endric still didn’t know. How could he have done what he had and be redeemed?

  Then again, Endric had made his share of mistakes and had been allowed to be redeemed. Should he not have been offered that opportunity?

  “It’s not my choice. The Conclave—at least, Tresten—has agreed that he can be redeemed. If they feel that he can, then who am I to decide otherwise?”

  “Who are you? Endric, I’m not used to you speaking of yourself in such terms. Who are you but the man who lost his brother because of Urik’s plans. Who are you but the man who nearly lost his first command because of Urik’s plans. Who are you but the person who nearly lost his father because of Urik’s plans?”

  Endric sat silently. Everything she told him echoed thoughts he had worked through. How could he not have? On the journey to Thealon and then along the shore, Endric had struggled with what Tresten had asked of him, but hadn’t he learned from Urik?

  “There’s more to the world than I know,” he said slowly. “Urik has experience that I do not. I don’t necessarily have to agree with him, but I think he deserves a chance for redemption. This time, it won’t be only the Denraen and the historian guild after him if he violates trust. This time, it will be the Conclave.”

  “And what makes you think the Conclave can do anything that the Denraen or the guild could not?”

  “That’s a good question,” Novan said.

  Endric spun to note the tall historian standing behind him, leaning slightly on his staff. “Historian. How long have you been listening?”

  Novan grinned. Endric wasn’t certain if it was his imagination, but it seemed as if the staff glowed softly in the faint moonlight. Maybe it was nothing more than a reflection off the metal he knew to be within it. “Long enough. Senda asks the right questions, though. They’re the same questions I imagine you’ve gone through over the last month.”

  “The last month?” Endric said. “My questions have been plaguing me longer than that.”

  “Have they? It seems to me that before you traveled with Tresten, you wanted nothing more than revenge. I’ll admit th
at I shared in that sentiment, and it’s possible Tresten did as well—until he realized that there were other ways that Urik could be useful.”

  “Why can he be useful, historian?” Senda asked. “Endric might be blinded by his affection for the Mage, but I am not.”

  “I would never have expected you to be blinded by affection for the Magi,” Novan said. “On the contrary, I imagine that you feel quite strongly about the Magi, though I wonder if perhaps that hasn’t turned into anger.”

  “Anger?” Senda said. “There is no anger. There is only disappointment.”

  “Is your disappointment because the Magi were unable to grant you the same abilities they possess, or does it stem from the fact that they took you in when your parents passed and gave you a place, even if it were one that you had never anticipated before? Or does your disappointment stem from another place, deeper and one that is less fixable?” Novan leaned forward, peering at her with a bright-eyed intensity. When he looked at her in that way, Endric could practically imagine him analyzing and cataloguing everything about her. Novan had a keen sense of observation and saw things in ways that others could not.

  “If you are saying this to question whether Endric knows of my connection to the Magi, don’t bother.”

  The corner of Novan’s mouth tugged slightly in a smile. “I see. It’s good that you have shared with him, much as it’s going to be necessary for him to share with you. I think you’re both going to be necessary for what needs to happen next.”

  Endric frowned. “And what does need to happen next?”

  “You already knew that you were taking Tresten to Salvat, so that he could be returned to the Conclave.”