Soldier Song (The Teralin Sword Book 6) Read online

  Soldier Song

  The Teralin Sword Book 6

  D.K. Holmberg

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Also by D.K. Holmberg

  1

  Dust kicked up in the distance. Endric stared out over the grassy plain, wishing it had rained in the last few days. He had gotten tired of looking at this haze, and though the sun wasn’t hot, it certainly had done enough damage, drying out the grasses. Even the occasional tree dotting the rolling plains seemed to suffer from the recent drought, leaves wilting and hanging as if it were autumn.

  He glanced over at the line of soldiers with him. The Denraen were ready, prepared for whatever attack might come, and though they didn’t want to fight—at least, he hoped they didn’t want to fight—they were prepared for the possibility. Even the heat hadn’t changed that, though he couldn’t deny that it had tried.

  “What do these fools think they are doing?” Pendin asked, staring over the plain.

  Endric only shook his head. He could see farther than his friend and didn’t need to let Pendin know that these fools were riding hard. Whether they intended to engage with the Denraen or not, either way, it would not end up well for them.

  “Probably the same as the last few attacks,” Endric said.

  They had been riding for weeks, purging the northern plains of these raiders, who had done enough damage to villages, sweeping in and attacking before retreating and disappearing to hide among the plains. It was easy for them, too. The northern plains stretched an enormous distance, and the Denraen didn’t have the necessary patrols to provide adequate disruption.

  In most of the raids, valuables were stolen from the people of the villages, leaving them with nothing. In one village, women had been molested. That had only angered Endric. Even the Deshmahne attack had not been like that.

  “They don’t have any coordination. How can they think to defeat the Denraen?”

  “I don’t have the mind of a stupid raider,” Endric said. “And I don’t think they intend to defeat us. All they need is to stay ahead of us.” And worse, so far, it had worked. They hadn’t been able to catch up to the raiders.

  “We haven’t heard anything to suggest there’s any reason to worry about these attacks,” Senda said from horseback next to him. Her dark hair hung past her shoulders, and her sharp jawline was striking in the bright daylight. Endric smiled at her but knew he wouldn’t get one in return. Smiles were for later, when they were alone—at least, as alone as they could be while traveling.

  “Just because you haven’t heard any report doesn’t mean there’s nothing for us to be concerned about,” Endric said. It was his intent to remain as prepared as possible. Prior experience had trained him to expect surprises, and he wasn’t about to be caught unprepared.

  “My sources—”

  Endric grunted, turning his attention back to the men approaching. “They’re sources, but that’s it. They have their own agenda, too.”

  “I’m just saying that none of this makes sense.”

  “Which is why we’re out here,” Endric said.

  There had to be fifty men bearing down on them, but Endric led a squadron of nearly two hundred Denraen. It was more than enough to overpower these fifty men, and yet still they rode at them.

  There was no reason behind it. Wise men would have turned, veering away from the Denraen. Endric made a point of having their standard waving overhead, preferring for there to be no question about who they were affiliated with. If the fools wanted to charge, they’d get a fight, but it would be a brief one.

  Endric patted the side of his horse, Chorn. The horse was a tall brown stallion, and he’d had the creature for the last four years, long enough that he had grown somewhat attached to him. Even Chorn seemed to realize something wasn’t quite right.

  “That’s why the Denraen are out here, but not why you are out here,” Senda said. “The Raen doesn’t have to be on patrol. There are better ways for you to serve. Trust me, I know.”

  He cast a side-eyed look at her. “I’m out here because—”

  “Because you don’t want to be in Vasha,” Senda finished for him.

  “That’s not fair,” Endric said.

  “It’s incredibly fair. You’re all too easy to read,” she said. “The great Endric, wanting only to fight. That’s been your excuse for years.”

  Pendin chuckled, and Endric glanced over at his muscular friend, glaring at him. “And you need to be silent.”

  “She’s right.”

  “About what? About sending you back to Vasha? Because that was her suggestion yesterday.”

  “She only said that because I beat her at dice.”

  “She only said that because you’ve become a little spoiled,” Endric said, nodding to his friend’s growing belly.

  Pendin flashed a hurt look, patting his stomach. “You don’t let me get spoiled. You take us out of the city too often for me to truly enjoy myself.”

  “You enjoy yourself well enough when we are in Vasha,” Endric said.

  He turned to look back out over the plains. They were close and still closing. Gods, but what were they thinking?

  If they wanted a fight, they would have one. The men with him wouldn’t hesitate; they had been far too well trained for anything else. As the soldiers approached, he raised his hand and made a motion.

  The Denraen surged forward at his command. Endric didn’t even have to move, and though he might want to engage, he recognized the need for these men to do so on their own. There was value in his leadership, but there was also value in their experience. He had to walk a fine line between the two.

  The battle happened quickly. His soldiers reached the raiders and swept over them, quickly ending the conflict. There would have been no other outcome, not from a fight like this. The raiders were far outnumbered.

  They were rounded up, wrangled together, and disarmed. Would any of his Denraen have been lost? The Denraen were far better trained than any group of raiders, but anytime men fought, there was the possibility that something might happen. He hated losing anyone under his command and certainly hated the idea of losing someone this way.

  “That was… anticlimactic,” Senda said.

  “It was,” Endric agreed.

  “Maybe I should have stayed in Vasha.”

  “I didn’t tell you that you needed to come with me.”

  “You didn’t tell me that I needed to, but I thought I might get a better sense for your leadership style,” she said with a smile.

  “And just why do you need to get a sense for my leadership style?”

  “If you’re going to be general soon—”

  Endric cut her off with a shake of his head. “I’m not going to be general anytime soon. My father continues to lead, and Dendril has shown no signs of slowing.”

  “Are you certain?”

  Endric stared at her for a moment before kicking his horse forward. It was an old argument, and one she hadn’t needed to follow him out of Vasha to have with him. It would have been better for her to have remained in the city if that was her intention.

  When they reached the raiders,
he made his way through them. He surveyed the men, and none of them were even all that well equipped for fighting. Most wore leathers, but none had any real armor. The collection of weapons the Denraen had gathered were all old, nicked swords or old bows, nothing that would pose much of a threat to an army like the Denraen.

  “Who leads you?” he called out.

  “I do,” a deep voice said. Endric followed the sound of the voice and found a man near the back of the gathered group of soldiers. He was unharmed, but then, most of them had been unharmed. The Denraen had disarmed them without needing to do much of anything.

  “What was this about?” he asked.

  “This was about autonomy,” the man said. “This was about allowing our people to live without the interference of the Magi. This was about—”

  Pendin reached him and leaned forward, inhaling deeply. “You stink of ale.”

  Endric hadn’t noticed it, but Pendin was right. As he got near, he realized that this man—and most of the men—stunk of ale.

  Could they all be intoxicated? Gods, if anything would make men stupid enough to charge a squadron of two hundred Denraen, it would be bellies full of ale.

  “Where is your home?” Endric asked.

  “Our home is where we are,” the man said.

  Three of the men near him started singing, and one of the others began to laugh.

  Endric looked around.

  “It was like this when we caught up to them,” Davis said.

  He was a broad-chested Denraen, quick with the sword, and he had a good head on his shoulders. Endric trusted him. It was part of the reason he had picked him to join them on patrol. Then again, he had picked everyone who joined him on patrol. Part of it was for his benefit so that he could get to know the men better, but partly he chose these men so they would have some experience in the field. The Denraen patrolled, but trouble always seemed to find Endric, and he wanted his men to know how to react. There was one benefit to sparring and training, but there was quite another to experiencing it. He wanted his Denraen to be experienced and able to react.

  “Is this why it was so easy to corral them?” Endric asked softly.

  “Are you saying we didn’t put up much of a fight?” the drunk leader said.

  “That’s what I’m saying,” Davis said.

  Two of the men laughed again. Somewhere within the group of fifty, someone began to sing again, a warble of a song that hung in the air.

  “We need to return them to their homes,” Pendin said. “They don’t deserve anything more than that.”

  “They attempted to attack the Denraen,” Davis said.

  “And they will live to tell about it,” Pendin said.

  Endric motioned for Pendin to depart, leaning over to him. “Take the rest of the men and set up camp.”

  “Endric—”

  “It’s fine,” Endric said. “Just get camp prepared, and we can go from there,” he said.

  Pendin sighed. For a moment, Endric thought that he might argue. There was a time when Pendin had argued every order that Endric had made, but over the last few years, those arguments came less and less. Now Pendin chose a more relaxed approach, though there was an intensity to him that wasn’t there before. Part of that came from what he had experienced, but part of it came from the fact that he no longer lost himself in ale.

  “How do you want to keep them?” he asked Davis.

  “There isn’t really a way for us to hold them easily,” Davis said. He recognized the test Endric gave him and took his time answering. “Some of them, we could escort back to Vasha, but then we would have to feed them, and we would have to deal with them the rest of the ride.”

  Endric waited. When Davis didn’t elaborate, he frowned. “Then what would you choose?”

  “I would probably bring them to the next nearest city. Riverbranch is only a day or so from here, and we could hand them over to soldiers there.”

  “We have a garrison in Riverbranch, so that wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Endric said.

  “Is that what you would have us do?”

  The men still waited for orders. They were Denraen, so that wasn’t surprising, but a little initiative wouldn’t be a bad thing. “Take as many men as you think are necessary for you to march these men to Riverbranch. We will remain camped here and wait for you.”

  Davis nodded and gathered a group of men before beginning his preparations. Endric, with Senda alongside him, headed back toward the rest of the camp that Pendin was already beginning to set.

  She leaned toward him, lowering her voice. “Maybe I don’t give you enough credit. Then again, you don’t give yourself enough credit either.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You. You really are ready to take command. You’ve connected with the men. That’s something I struggled with when I served as Raen.”

  “These men are men I’ve chosen.”

  “Chosen because you see something in them.”

  Endric glanced over at Senda. “Chosen because they are willing to follow me. Not all do. Some still see me as the person I was.”

  “That passes with each day,” she said. “More and more see you as the man you are now. Memory isn’t so long as to hold on to what they believe you did when you were young.”

  “It’s longer than you realize. I recognize that, which is another part of the reason I don’t think I’m quite ready to take over my father’s command.”

  “It’s more than you not being ready.”

  Endric smiled and reached over and patted her hand. They were far enough away from the rest of the camp that she didn’t try to withdraw, and for that he was thankful. There were times when all he wanted was that connection to her, and there were times when she wasn’t willing to allow it, where she thought their role as soldiers—and commanders—made it so they couldn’t have the relationship everyone knew they did.

  Eventually, he had to hope she would find a way to serve within the Denraen as someone important to him. If she couldn’t… they might never have a chance to be what they both wanted.

  “Do you really intend to wait here for the next few days?” Senda asked.

  “Not necessarily here. We can continue to patrol while Davis brings those men to Riverbranch and rejoins us.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to have the garrison come out of Riverbranch and gather them?”

  “Possibly.”

  “But?”

  “But if he did that, he wouldn’t have a chance to make his own decisions. There is a benefit to making a decision and recognizing the challenges and complications that come along with it.”

  She smiled at him. “I completely agree.”

  “You aren’t letting me make any decision.”

  “Aren’t I?”

  He frowned as they reached the start of the Denraen camp. Pendin had everyone quite organized, a strength of his. Since rejoining the Denraen, Pendin had been incredibly organized, and he used that skill to make certain everybody fell into line, ready for anything that might come their way. Endric was appreciative of that quality and knew that in some ways, Pendin might be even better organized than he was. Pendin had a structured mind, but he still lacked for creativity when it came to attacks, which was part of the reason his friend lost to Endric when sparring.

  Only part of the reason, though.

  The other part was the fact that Pendin was not descended from the Antrilii, people gifted with abilities, and without that heritage, Endric doubted Pendin would ever be his true rival. Other than the Antrilii, he hadn’t met anyone who rivaled him.

  “Preparations are taken care of?” Endric asked.

  “Either that or well underway,” Pendin said.

  “Good. We can make our plans for the next few days after.”

  Pendin flicked his gaze down to Endric’s sword and then nodded.

  Endric stepped off to the side, making his way near the growing campfire. They didn’t worry about setting a campfire, not concerned about
attracting notice, preferring to be a beacon while patrolling so that others knew the Denraen were there. There was value in that. A sense of safety to any who saw.

  Endric picked up a wooden practice stave and stood waiting.

  It was his habit each night while camping to offer himself up for sparring. It served several purposes. For one, it allowed him to train with men he might not otherwise have much contact with. He had gotten to know many men in that way, and he appreciated the fact that doing so gave him the opportunity.

  It also allowed him to teach, and in teaching, it helped ingrain the patterns of swordplay into his mind even better. Knowing the patterns well enough to teach them had turned him into the swordsman that he had become.

  He didn’t have to wait long.

  The first person to approach was a younger woman, one of the few women who served in his patrol. It wasn’t because he didn’t believe women were capable, but there weren’t all that many women who wanted to serve within the Denraen.

  “Again?” he asked Marlis.

  She smiled at him. “I thought I could still use the instruction,” she said.

  “All of us can continue to learn,” Endric said.

  “That’s why I come.”

  He tipped his head in a nod, raising his practice sword up, prepared for her. She came at him, darting forward. She was quick, something he had noticed in their previous spars, and her forms were well controlled. Sometimes there was a little slop with speed, to the point where swordsmen who were incredibly quick ended up too casual with their movements, as if they didn’t need to be concerned about accuracy and precision, but not so with Marlis.

  Endric took her through a series of catahs, demonstrating the pattern before falling back into the defense. It was how he sparred, and he had found that it worked well in demonstrations, too.