Soldier Scarred Page 10

  “Are you certain of that?”

  Endric shrugged. “As certain as I can be. Most places send their men to train with us, but spending a year or two with us is not the same as constantly training.” There had been plenty of men who had come to Vasha seeking to learn how to fight like a Denraen soldier. It was one thing to want to possess the Denraen skill. It was quite another to take the time and effort to actually train so that they could acquire it. The Denraen trained for years and had some of the best fighters in the world, partly because they plucked other skilled fighters from each nation, joining a unified force that could help maintain peace, working on behalf of all nations, and of none.

  “It is the same with Aria.”

  “She trained with you?”

  “She has some of the knowledge that Teachers possess, but she has not taken the time to understand what it might mean. She seeks arcane knowledge and tries to apply other things that she has learned—or even heard about. It doesn’t matter whether or not it has been studied or whether it’s been proven.”

  “It seems to me that you don’t like that she takes her remedies with a bit of faith.”

  “Did your faith save your friend?” the Teacher asked.

  “I didn’t have any faith,” Endric said.

  The man cocked his head, frowning as he studied Endric. “The second-in-command of the Denraen has no faith in the gods?”

  “I’m not the second-in-command of the Denraen.”

  “With Senda as she is, I suspect that you are.”

  Endric hadn’t considered that, but was it true? He held the rank of en’raen, which meant that he was only one rank behind Senda, but there were others who matched his rank, though they might have served even less time than he did. And Endric had seen more of the world and had experienced things that they could not claim. That alone might make him better equipped to serve in that capacity.

  Yet Endric no longer knew whether his father wanted him to serve in that way, and he was no longer certain that he wanted to serve in that way.

  “Perhaps I am.”

  “The Denraen do not require their soldiers to be devout?” the Teacher asked.

  “Have you ever spent any time in Vasha?”

  The Teacher shook his head.

  “Devotion to the gods is a part of serving the Denraen, but it is not the core of it.”

  “What is the core of the Denraen?”

  “The core of the Denraen is working for peace and doing everything that we can to maintain it.”

  The Teacher watched him for a moment and then nodded. “You are not what I expected when I discovered who you were.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Endric, son of Dendril, has a certain reputation.”

  Endric grunted. “I’ve been trying to erase that reputation.”

  “Indeed. Perhaps in time you will be known as something else. You should choose how you want to the world to see you and portray yourself as such.”

  Endric smiled. It was strange getting advice from the Teacher, but he recognized sound advice when he heard it. “I will do my best,” he said.

  The man nodded and motioned for Endric to follow again.

  They reached a staircase which the Teacher began to descend. Endric’s Denraen training set in, and he felt himself on edge. Was it safe to follow this man here? Should he willingly allow himself to follow him into an unknown space, or should he return, grab Senda, and leave? Endric never would have considered the Teachers dangerous before, but he didn’t really know much about the canicharl, and he felt uneasy about what he had seen so far.

  The Teacher turned back to him, grinning slightly. “You don’t have to fear me, Endric, son of Dendril. If anything, I should fear you.”

  They made their way along the hall, and at the end of it, reached the door. This was more ornately decorated than many of the other doors that he’d seen, and the man knocked briefly.

  It took a moment, but the door opened.

  “What do you need, Gareth?”

  Endric gasped. He recognized the voice, but why would Pendin be here in Salvat?

  13

  Endric sat near a glowing hearth, looking at his friend. Pendin had not changed much since he’d last seen him, though he might be even more solid than before. He was dressed in a gray jacket and pants, matching that of the Teachers, and there was a serenity about him that hadn’t been there the last time Endric had seen him. Then again, the last time Endric had seen his friend, he had gone behind his back, trying to find him help.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  Pendin looked over at him and he took a deep breath. “You left too quickly before. When I heard that you brought Senda here…”

  “Why did you come to Salvat?”

  Pendin turned and stared at the fire. His eyes took on a distant expression and Endric recognized the focus on his friend’s face. Pendin had been with him for years. He was his oldest friend, and they had fought alongside each other through battles that should have killed them both. And then, when Endric had traveled to the Antrilii lands, Pendin had fallen into drink, and he had changed.

  “My mother thought it would be a good place for me to escape for a while.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  Pendin shrugged. He was a large man, the son of miners, and his build was fitting for him. Pendin often used his strength to his advantage, but there was something strange about seeing him dressed in the garb of the Teachers, something that seemed to lessen him somewhat.

  “A few months. I stayed with my mother for a while, but I think she grew tired of me.” Pendin flushed. “She sent me here, with instructions for Gareth, asking him to watch over me.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened, Pendin.”

  Pendin looked over at him and shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I made the mistake. I’m the one who couldn’t get past what you had done. I’m the one who…” Pendin shook his head. “Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe it never did.”

  “It matters. Our friendship matters.”

  Pendin sighed. “I know that it does. I think I lost sight of that, but I’ve always known that our friendship mattered to you. I’m just sorry that I was so godsforsaken stubborn that I didn’t see you wanting to help your friend.”

  They fell into a silence. Endric had missed his closest friend and had missed not only his company but also his counsel. Almost as much as Senda, Pendin had provided him with a sense of calm, and he had always been there when Endric was about to make some foolish mistake—something that once had happened far too often.

  “Did you help watch over Senda while I was gone?”

  “I did. There is nothing that can be done for her, Endric. I know that’s hard to hear, but whatever she was exposed to is unlike anything they’ve ever seen before. I even sent word to my mother, but…”

  “I understand. That’s why I took the journey that I did.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “In search of divine intervention,” Endric said.

  Pendin grinned slowly, meeting Endric’s eyes. “You were never very devout before. I have a hard time thinking that you did anything that involved the gods.”

  Endric shrugged. “Perhaps not the gods, but I went in search of something. The people of Salvat worship Oluantiin Mountain as if it were the home of the gods. I thought that if I could reach it…”

  “You didn’t climb the mountain, did you?” Pendin asked.

  Endric arched a brow at him. “Would it have been a problem if I did?”

  “The mountain is sacred to the people of Salvat, Endric. They would have considered it an insult if you would have attempted to climb it.”

  Endric grunted. “It’s a good thing that I didn’t try. I got close, and there was a woman I met in the tavern—”

  Pendin chuckled. “Of course, there was.”

  Endric shook his head. “She told me about the mountain, and the connection to the gods, and I thought
that I might head that way and that I might find answers, but the mountain wasn’t the key to understanding.”

  “Something else was?”

  Endric shrugged. “I had a vision.”

  Pendin grinned at him. “You had a vision?”

  “I don’t know what else to call it. I could call it a dream, but it was nothing like any dream I ever had. Vision seems the most fitting, especially as everything that I saw in that dream seemed to come true.”

  “And what did you see?”

  “I saw the mountain. In the vision, I stood on top of it, surrounded by smoke and fire, looking down into the mouth of the volcano. Then I moved, and I stood on the barren rock of Salvat before moving again and stopping near a pool, this one surrounded by life in the middle of desolation.”

  “You said you didn’t climb the mountain.”

  Endric shook his head. “I didn’t.”

  “How do you know that the vision was accurate?”

  “That part might not be,” Endric admitted, “but I found the pool. I think I was meant to find the pool. I think I was guided there, so that I could bring back water from it for Senda.”

  “You realize how that sounds, Endric.”

  “I do. I don’t have any other way of explaining what I saw, or what happened to me. Maybe it was nothing more than my dehydrated mind trying to convince me of something, but I don’t think that it was. I think that I actually had a vision, and the gods were trying to tell me something.”

  Pendin laughed. “The next thing that will happen is you will run off and join the priesthood. I can only imagine a warrior priest, roaming the land, speaking of the gods.”

  Endric smiled. He knew how foolish he sounded, but at least he was sharing what happened with someone he cared about, and with someone he trusted. If nothing else, Endric didn’t worry that Pendin would betray him and try to use his far-fetched ideas against him, not that there would be much of a way to use them against him.

  “And so you brought this—water, was it?—back to the canicharl, to try and resuscitate Senda?”

  “I did.”

  “Did you give it to her?”

  Endric nodded. “I gave it to her, but I don’t think that anything happened.”

  Pendin shook his head. “I know you wanted to do anything that you could to help her. The gods know that I understand. I care about Senda, as well. Even when I started letting myself go, she was always there for me. She refused to allow me to fall too deeply before you returned. Without her, and then you, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

  “You would have washed out of the Denraen,” Endric said.

  “I think I already have.”

  “Not if your commanding officer brings you back.”

  “I didn’t think you commanded anything these days.”

  “Maybe I don’t, but I came south on a mission my father approved of, and after saving him again, I think he would owe me this one.”

  “You saved your father again? What is Dendril doing, allowing himself to be placed into such difficult situations?”

  Endric laughed. “It wasn’t just Dendril, it was Senda also. Don’t tell her I said that.”

  “If she awakens, I won’t.”

  Endric sighed. If she awoke. The idea that Senda might not was painful, but there was a very real possibility that she might not. And if she didn’t, what would he do? Would he return to the Denraen and resume his command as his father—and Senda—wanted of him? Or would he continue searching for the Conclave, trying to find what Urik had done with Tresten?

  “I should go see her again,” Endric said.

  “I don’t know how much longer she has,” Pendin said. “I get the sense from the Teachers that they are surprised she lives.”

  Endric decided not to tell him about his interaction with Aria, or about the elixir that he had administered to Senda. What was the point of it?

  “I’ll join you,” Pendin said.

  Endric nodded and they stood, making their way out of the room and down the hall, weaving their way through the canicharl. Pendin guided him, knowing the directions, and they found the room once more.

  Endric pulled it open, bracing himself for the stench.

  “It’s awful, isn’t it?” Pendin asked.

  “I’ve never smelled anything quite like it before,” Endric said. And he had smelled dead groeliin, a stench that was unlike anything else. They were equally awful, but for different reasons.

  He pulled the door open and stepped inside. The candle had burned even lower, and it took a moment for Endric’s eyes to adjust. He was thankful as he often was for his eyesight. He saw well in the dark, almost as well as any Mage, and considering the Antrilii connection to the Magi, that no longer surprised him as it once did.

  Senda lay on the cot, breathing steadily.

  Something had changed.

  Endric hurried over to her and took her hand. Some of the squishiness to her skin was no longer present, and he allowed himself to feel a moment of excitement. He squeezed her hand, praying that she would squeeze back, but she didn’t. At least she breathed. He was thankful that she had been breathing when he returned to the canicharl. There had been a real possibility that she might have stopped even that. Maybe his dosing her with Aria’s concoction had bought him a few days, enough time to return from searching for the teralin-infused water and the possibility of a way to help her.

  “What is it?” Pendin asked.

  “She’s different.”

  “This is the illness. It’s been like this, getting worse since she came here. When she first appeared, she was normal, but her skin became bloated quickly.”

  Endric nodded. “She was submerged underwater for… a long time. When I managed to pull her free—”

  “You pulled her free? You don’t like swimming.”

  “I might not like swimming, but doesn’t mean I can’t swim. And when someone I care about is drowning, I’m willing to attempt whatever I can to reach them.”

  “Do you know what took her?”

  “There was somebody on the shore who called it a cothuln.”

  Pendin started laughing.

  “What is it?” Endric asked.

  Pendin shook his head. “Only that it’s nothing more than a rumor. There are many people who believe in cothuln, especially on Salvat, but they aren’t real.”

  “Whatever it was had a tentacle wrapped around her neck,” Endric said.

  “Or it was a sea snake,” Pendin said.

  Endric shrugged. It could have been a sea snake, and that might be better than thinking it was some sort of strange sea monster that had poisoned her. It didn’t explain why she was still so sick, and it didn’t explain what had happened to her in the moments afterward, but maybe there wouldn’t be an explanation for that.

  “Whatever it was, I think she’s getting a little better,” Endric said.

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Feel her skin.”

  Pendin squeezed her hand. “It feels the same, Endric. I think you’re allowing your hope for her recovery to influence the way you perceive this. It might be better for you to acknowledge that she isn’t going to survive this. If the Teachers can’t help her, there’s nothing that can.”

  Endric stared at Senda, watching her breathe. There was no doubt in his mind that the squishiness in her hand was less than it had been. And if that had lessened, wasn’t there some way for him to get her more help?

  He couldn’t do it alone.

  He looked at Pendin. “I’m going to need your help.”

  “With what?”

  “With finding help for Senda. I think I can do more for her. It might even be possible to save her.”

  “How? What do you think you can do that would save her now? I can smell the rot and the way that she’s already decomposing, Endric.”

  Endric stared at Senda, convinced there was something that could be done. “Divine intervention,” he said.

  “Divine interven
tion? Didn’t you already give her the gods’ water?”

  “Not like that,” Endric started. He looked around the room, trying to think about how he might help her. Would he be able to get her out of the canicharl? Even if he could, would it make a difference? Risking Senda simply to satisfy his desire to try to help her didn’t feel like something that he should be doing. What if he failed? What if she got worse along the way? Worse, what if she died along the way?

  Pendin studied him. There was a darker edge to his eyes than had been there before, but he still had the warmth and the concern that shone through that had made them such quick friends. “Whatever it takes,” Pendin said. “For Senda, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  14

  Endric carried Senda through the canicharl. She felt strange in his arms. Senda had always been muscular, much stronger than she appeared, and because of that, she weighed much more than her size would seem that she should. He had felt her weight upon him often enough to remember that, even though it had been a long time—far too long—since they shared moments like that.

  His eyes darted along the hallway, glancing from the tapestries to the lanterns, searching for signs of the Teachers. What would the Teachers say if they knew that he was attempting to carry her free from the canicharl? Would they be stopped? Pendin certainly seem to think that that would, and he seemed to believe that the Teachers would have some way of forcing Endric to comply with their desire to keep Senda here.

  “Which way?” he asked Pendin.

  Pendin moved alongside him, dressed in robes that seemed far too small for his enormous frame. The time spent with the Teachers had not diminished him. He remained incredibly muscular—far more than most within the Denraen, as if his miner heritage refused to be denied.

  “You know the way out of the canicharl,” Pendin said.

  “That’s not where we need to go. Not yet.”

  “Why not yet?”

  “Because if we take her without any way of sustaining her, she is likely to die along the way.”

  Pendin’s eyes widened. “You intend to go to the head healer.”

  “I don’t intend to go to him. I intend to steal from him.”