Soldier Sworn (The Teralin Sword Book 3) Read online

  It didn't matter. Nothing mattered so long as Endric survived.

  He sagged back into the cave, listening. The howls didn’t come again.

  Did that mean that the merahl had been silenced? Or did that mean that the hunt had finished? Either way, Endric suspected it meant groeliin.

  He shivered. The women of the Yahinv might want him to slaughter an entire brood, but armed with only his club, he didn't think he was able—or capable—of doing so much as stopping a single groeliin.

  He sat awake, listening to the sounds of the night, hearing the wind as it whistled around him. Every so often, there came another sound, that of movement along the rock, enough that it made him feel as if an animal might attack, jostling him awake as he drifted toward an unpleasant and uncomfortable sleep. Then it faded, disappearing into nothing, carried off by the wind.

  He began to wonder whether he imagined those sounds, whether they were his tired and hungry mind latching onto imagined sensations, but he had no choice but to pay attention to them. If he didn't, if they were real, if there were some creatures making their way toward him in the night, Endric wanted to be ready.

  He was not ready to die.

  He still wanted to serve as Denraen, and he wanted to return to Senda.

  He slept poorly throughout the night, jerking awake every so often at a new sound. Each time he did, he was convinced that it was nothing more than the wind, but each time the sounds came, it took a long time before his heart stopped hammering, and it took a long time for his body to settle. On a night in which he had finally had food and water for the first time in days, and one in which he was fully dressed, no longer cold and miserable as he had been, it was the worst he had spent since he was sent from the Antrilii.

  He crested a peak, snow now commonplace as he walked. There was a path through the mountains, and he took it, knowing there was no other choice. As he did, he worried that perhaps that since this was the only path through the mountains, other creatures took this same path. Did it mean the groeliin would have to come this way as well?

  He had no other choice but to press onward. The higher he climbed, the more he saw snatches of life. The grass that he'd seen lower down the mountain became more plentiful. Trees were a little bit more frequent here, giving him a chance to use branches for firewood. He paused at one of them and cut a length of unusually straight branch, then lashed a sharpened rock to the end, fashioning something of a spear. It would be only partially effective, but better than only having his club. Endric strapped the spear to his back and continued climbing.

  The days passed. He managed to find water frequently. He surprised a squirrel one day, clubbing it with a rock and feasting on its meat that afternoon. Other times, he forced himself to choose the insects he came across. They would provide some nourishment—possibly enough to keep him alive—and that was all he cared about. The higher he climbed, the more it seemed the mountain stretched indefinitely. He had a moment of fear that he had been traveling along the east-west direction that would take him along the length of the mountains but realized as he watched the sun's movement that he continued south, a path that should take him beyond the mountains and back to lands that he had once patrolled. They should take him back to safety.

  He began to focus on the next step, and then the next, and then the next. When he stopped, he began to think about water or food. He rarely thought about what he would do when he reached the south, and he rarely thought about the reason he had come north in the first place. If he ever managed to make it free and back to his father, then he could address those issues. Perhaps he could attempt another journey north, travel with his father, and see if there was anything they could do to bring peace to the Antrilii. They would need to unify them, find a way to bring those people together as they faced the groeliin, and might be the only people who could.

  He lost track of days, simply trekking through the mountains, following the pass.

  As he went, he searched for any sign of movement. For the most part, he saw small mice, the kind he had feasted on the first night he had eaten. Other times, he saw insects scrabbling along the rocks. His awareness of these movements allowed him to keep eating, and he subsisted on food he never would have before.

  It was in this way that he caught sight of movement late in the day.

  Endric no longer knew how many days it had been. The thick laca hide leathers he wore had long since dried, formed to his side. He had turned the fur side out, keeping the now-dried leather against his flesh. This provided more protection for him and more warmth. He had been forced to adjust the tendons that lashed his makeshift boots together, and they were beginning to wear. In time, he suspected that he would need to fashion another pair. He doubted he would be as lucky to encounter a cave where laca thought to make a den. And he hadn't seen any creatures larger than squirrels in the time that he had been climbing.

  When he caught sight of the movement, he froze, pushing himself against the rocks. One advantage of the laca fur leathers was that they blended somewhat into the rocks, having swirls of brown and gray along with darker stripes. Endric doubted he would need such camouflage, but now, that additional advantage became clear.

  As he stood there, hunkered against the stone, his eyes began to make out the shape that he had seen, and he realized that it was a dark swirl moving along one of the upper slopes.

  His breath caught, and his heart hammered suddenly.

  Endric recognized that dark swirl and the hideous gray flash.

  Groeliin.

  He stayed in place, not moving for long moments, not certain what he should even do, as he debated.

  Did he follow it and risk himself, or did he continue climbing up the side of the mountain and hopefully on to safety?

  Movement down the slope caught his attention as well, and Endric turned to stare.

  As he did, it became clear what he saw. More groeliin. Too many for him to face.

  He had no choice but to continue up the slope.

  Endric started forward, away from the groeliin down the slope, but it forced him toward the groeliin up the slope of the mountain. As he walked, he carefully shifted the spear, removing it from where he had strapped it to his back, and prepared for whatever attack he might have to face.

  14

  Endric crept carefully, his spear in hand, his heart fluttering in his chest. After the days he’d spent hiking through the mountains, days where he had begun to feel a sense of relaxation, where all he had to worry about was survival, now he was faced with the real possibility of his death. If these groeliin attacked—if they turned and noticed him—he didn't like his odds armed only with a spear and club.

  He paused as the path through the mountain began to angle backward.

  Heading in that direction would take him away from the groeliin, but it also would prevent him from knowing if they followed him.

  Going downslope risked facing the groeliin, but could he do it on his terms?

  A memory flashed into his mind, something that his brother had once said to him. It was strange that Andril would come to him at this time, strange that his brother would be the one he would think of as he struggled with what he was doing, but Andril often had good advice, often times gleaned from their father. Endric hadn’t nearly as much time in Dendril’s good graces to have learned what Andril had.

  His brother had said that sometimes the Denraen had to move backward before they could go forward. At the time, Endric thought it made no sense, but it seemed particularly apt at this time.

  He tested his spear, shifting his grip on it so that he could ensure that he was comfortable with it.

  The spear had a solid weight, and he had been lucky enough to find a branch that was straight enough. He hoped that were he to need to throw it, he could chuck it with enough force to stop the groeliin. After the days spent in the mountains had left him weakened, he no longer knew if he would be able to, but it was better to be on the attacking side than to be attacked.

>   He waited near the bend in the path. As he did, he listened, focused on whether there was additional movement along the slope. He heard nothing.

  Had he made a mistake? Had they changed direction?

  The groeliin were difficult to see, and Endric stared, keeping his focus where he thought they should be. He remained on edge, his heart hammering, but knew that if he moved, he would draw their attention. He didn’t know how many of the creatures were there and doubted he would be able to fight off more than a few, but as he weighed the risks and benefits of his strategy, he decided that staying here, planning for the possibility of an attack, was worth that risk.

  As he stood there, he saw finally saw movement.

  It came slowly as shifting—almost shimmering—of shadows. Endric could almost believe that it was nothing more than shadows across the stone. He prepared to attack but hesitated as the shadows shifted again.

  There were more than one.

  As he waited, he saw that there were at least three groeliin.

  Had he his sword, perhaps he would be able to withstand an attack from three of the creatures, but armed only with a spear and club, he didn't like the odds. He might be able to kill one with the spear and might be able to surprise another, but three?

  He was foolish to even think about it.

  But as he thought through it, he started working out how it might work. He had the element of surprise. He would be able to remain hidden, stay behind the barrier of the rock here, and he could use that to surprise them. He could be upon the first before they even knew they were getting attacked. With the second, there would still be the element of surprise. That left the third he might struggle with.

  The groeliin moved closer, the shadows swirling around them.

  It was too late to change his mind now. They were too close, and he was too exposed. The time to have made a different decision would have been when he first observed them. He might've been able to find a place to hide, and might've been able to see whether he could have ducked between the rocks, perhaps remain hidden that way. He had to attack.

  Endric remained low, ducking as he clutched the spear.

  He stretched his neck around, looking beyond the rock, and saw movement.

  The groeliin were there. Three, much as he thought on the first inspection. It was possible there were more, that he would be surprised, but he didn't think there were any more than that.

  Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he swung around the bend in the rock and jabbed at the first groeliin with the makeshift spear.

  The creature staggered forward, startled but still powerful.

  Endric swung up with his club, catching it in the skull, and pulled out his spear at the same time. He spun, moving in a pattern that flowed from those that Senda had taught him with the staff, and clubbed the next groeliin, stabbing with his spear into the third one at the same time.

  One of the groeliin attempted to climb over the middle one, and Endric used the longer length of his spear and stabbed at it again, catching it in the chest. The groeliin was pushed down, and Endric smashed it on the head with his club.

  He darted back, holding both spear and club ready, but they no longer moved.

  His heart hammered.

  He had survived. He had taken out three groeliin, and he had survived.

  Even that much had been more than he had thought he could achieve.

  He remained crouching, holding spear and club ready, watching for signs of movement from the creatures, but none came.

  Their blood spilled onto the rocks, and a foul odor drifted to him. He hadn't noticed it when they were alive, but the beasts had a repulsive stink.

  Once his heart steadied and his breathing had slowed, he approached them. He needed to understand more about them so that he could know what he might need to do were he to face them again.

  They were hideous, grotesque creatures with grayish skin. They had vaguely manlike features. Sharp teeth fit into their jaws. Their noses appeared shaved off, leaving odd-looking spaces. They had nothing in the way of ears other than small holes on the sides of their head. None of the creatures had any hair. There were clothed in strange drab-looking wraps. All three carried long, spiked clubs.

  Endric looked at his club and debated. Did he keep his, or did he take the risk and switch, use one of the groeliin clubs?

  Holding on to his club might the best; it had saved him and served him well. With this, he had defeated the laca and had managed to bring down three groeliin, but having one of their clubs with spikes on the end might give him an advantage.

  Endric decided to hold onto his along with grabbing one of the groeliin weapons. There would be no harm in having multiple weapons, certainly not as he attempted to traverse the mountains, exposed to ever greater dangers.

  Endric didn't want to remain here any longer than necessary. He started forward, heading up the mountainside, moving quickly. In the distance, he noticed that the trail shifted, turning back toward the east. This would bring him in the direction of the groeliin he had seen before.

  As he made his way forward, he began to wonder if this had been part of the penance. Perhaps there was no choice but to face the groeliin if he were to head through the mountains.

  Then again, why wouldn't it have been? What purpose would there have been in penance if he had been able to avoid the punishments they had for him?

  He would need to be careful now.

  Endric crept forward, focused on what he might face, and he listened intently. He kept his head constantly swiveling, looking for signs of movement. The fact that his awareness of movement had increased over the last few days during the time that he'd been wandering the mountains seemed to help. He could use that focus as he sought to remain safe. He had already observed while traveling with Brohmin that the groeliin could move along the face of the rock, so he had to watch in all directions.

  Endric surveyed the rocks as he went. He climbed a small rise, one with two twisted trees growing up on either side of him. As he did, he saw movement. Groeliin movement again.

  Endric remained motionless near a tree. He hoped the laca fur allowed him to blend into the trunk, and he hoped that he could use that to remain shielded from the groeliin.

  He listened.

  Much like with the laca, he heard their claws as they clattered across the stone. He could see something of a smoke that surrounded them, and this approached first as they came from up the side of the mountain slope, heading toward his trail.

  How many were here? Would there be as many as the last? Now that he had defeated three, he thought he had a chance if he were to encounter that many again. More than that would overwhelm him.

  He took a steadying breath, forcing his heart to slow, readying his mind as he had been trained by his father, and stepped around the tree.

  This time, there were five groeliin.

  As they noticed him, Endric jabbed with the spear toward one of them.

  He aimed for the belly, wanting to disembowel the foul creature. As he withdrew his spear, he spun, swinging the groeliin club at the nearest creature’s head. The spikes connected with a sickening thud. The creature fell.

  Endric spun, jabbing with his spear, and this time he connected with the shoulder, pinning the creature back. He swung the club, connecting with the side of its face.

  Something caught him from behind.

  Endric staggered, swinging his arms around as he did, and managed to connect with a groeliin there. The club pierced its chest and blood splattered.

  How many remained?

  Endric swung around, using the club and the spear to give himself some distance.

  How badly was he injured? If they had spiked clubs much like the one he had taken, he worried that he had already been injured too much.

  He would have to think about that after he survived. If he survived.

  Two groeliin remained.

  One of the creatures had an injury to its shoulder. This was the one he had stab
bed with the spear. It came at him, its arm dangling uselessly.

  Endric couldn't focus too much on this one.

  He stabbed at the other groeliin with the spear.

  The creature twisted and the spear missed. As the creature shifted its stance, Endric swung the club, catching the side of its face and sending it spinning.

  Endric continued his motion and connected with the other groeliin, knocking it backward. With both on the ground, he jabbed at them with the spear, piercing their hide.

  Finally, there was no more movement. The groeliin had been stopped, at least for now.

  He waited, worried that they might move again, but they did not.

  As he stared at them, he noticed something surprising.

  There was a brand upon each of them on both shoulders. The brand was the same, a strange twisting sort of triangle with a line through the center.

  Endric frowned. He hurried back down the slope, returning to the first three groeliin. He looked at them and noticed the same brand on their arms.

  Had he found a brood?

  If he had, and if Nessa had told him the truth, that meant there were upwards of fifty groeliin. And he had killed eight.

  Could he finish off more? Could he finish the brood?

  He would have to have some way of proving to the Antrilii that he had.

  If he were to return, he would need some form of proof.

  Endric used the sharpened stone tip of the spear that he had created and carved into the flesh of the nearest groeliin. The stench coming from the creature intensified as he did, and he managed to cut free the brand. He hoped the stench would decrease the longer he was around it.

  Endric started back up the slope of the mountain, his mind churning. Something else troubled him as he did. He had been gone from the Antrilii for a few days. Perhaps a week and a half, maybe longer. But that meant these groeliin were only a week and a half or so away from Farsea. Did the Antrilii know? Were they aware of how close the groeliin were to them?

  If they didn’t, that troubled him. What if they weren't prepared for an attack? From what he'd seen, their hunters had been sent away on a different hunt. He remembered Nessa telling him that they had gone east, and had gone in search of a different brood.