Endric stood silently before the desk while Urik read the parchment. Endric had resisted the urge to open it and see what his father had written. Whether it was out of fear or respect, he didn’t know. Perhaps he truly didn’t care. He crossed his arms over his chest so that he didn’t reach for his missing sword.
Urik quickly finished reading it and set it down atop his desk. “You know what is said here?” he asked. His eyes caught the crossed arms and narrowed slightly.
Endric shook his head once. He imagined what the general had requested. Discipline had been mentioned often enough that he knew Urik was expected to dole out some sort of punishment.
Urik smiled. It was a slight turn of his lip. It did nothing to make him more remarkable, and it was this plainness that made him a dangerous opponent. Most didn’t expect the keen mind and quick sword behind such average features. Yet his father had seen the whole man.
“You are assigned to me.”
Endric frowned. “One of your regiments?”
Urik turned his flat brown eyes upon him. “Me.”
“I’m not sure what that means.”
Urik chuckled, though it came out as a grunt. “Me neither. Seems you have offended Andril. So Dendril assigns you to me. To ‘learn the ideals and understand the role of the Denraen.’” Urik looked up from the parchment and shook his head. “Be easier if you took the commission he offered.”
Easier, but not what he wanted. It was simpler to just serve. There was something satisfying in being a mindless soldier. He didn’t tell Urik that. Instead, he said, “It’s no longer offered, I think.”
Urik laughed again. “You don’t know your father then. To him, any man can be an officer. He just needs to earn the right.”
Endric didn’t think there was anything he could do that would regain his father’s good graces, let alone warrant earning a commission. Too many years had been spent intentionally antagonizing him. Still, he never let it show. Always the general, never the father.
They were interrupted by a harsh knock on Urik’s door. Urik looked over Endric’s shoulder and frowned. “Enter.”
The door opened to reveal Listain standing on the other side. His face became drawn and tightened even more when he saw Endric. He was clean-shaven, revealing a few old scars along his chin. Most of the officers shaved, but Listain frequently grew out a beard, hiding his scars, though he kept his hair shorn close in the style of the Denraen officers. Only the general wore a beard routinely.
“The general convenes the council,” Listain said, flicking his gaze to Urik.
“When?”
“Now. New report from the south.”
“I’ve warned of the south, but you have convinced him that it’s not a risk.”
Listain shot Urik a hard look. As Raen, he outranked Urik.
Urik nodded carefully. Listain glanced at Endric before turning and closing the door. “Seems we will start later. Best that your father assigned you to me rather than the Raen.”
Endric looked back at the closed door and nodded. Listain would have tormented him and relished doing so. Even his father had acknowledged that.
“I know the two of you haven’t always seen eye to eye,” Urik continued.
Endric turned to Urik and snorted briefly before he remembered his place. He was assigned to Urik to learn how to be Denraen. It wouldn’t do to offend him already. “He is the Raen.”
Urik laughed. Emotion never reached his eyes. “Exercising caution already?” He tilted his head, seeming to weigh Endric before smiling slightly. “The two of you are both misunderstood. It is only natural that such misunderstandings lead to conflict.” He hesitated, glancing at the door as he considered his next words. “Listain serves the Denraen well. The intelligence he gathers is nearly irreplaceable. You would do well to remember that.”
The implication was clear. Listain was irreplaceable. Endric was not.
Urik chuckled softly, breaking the brief tension. “There are some things his spy network does not help him see. Such as the rumors that spread about him.” Urik shrugged. “Or maybe he sees and doesn’t care.” He met Endric’s eyes and held them. “Who is to know?”
Endric shifted uncomfortably, uncertain what to say.
“Perhaps he knows his days are numbered. That may be why he suggested Andril head south,” Urik said, the comment strangely casual. “Andril will succeed your father someday, and then—”
Urik glanced at the door and then grabbed a handful of papers that he stuffed into a small satchel near his desk. “Council awaits.” He glanced up at Endric. “I think for your first assignment, we should focus on the ideals of the Denraen.” He smiled, his teeth flashing briefly. Turning to his desk again, he leaned and scribbled something upon a scrap of paper, then held it out for Endric. “Take this to Tildan. You have patrol the next three nights.”
Endric bit back a comment at his assignment, feeling a surge of irritation flash through him. Patrol was meant for the earliest of recruits… and perhaps that was the point.
Urik watched his face for a moment, then pushed past him as he moved toward the door, holding it open while he waited for Endric to follow. “After that, we will discuss what is next.”
Urik hurried down the hall toward Dendril’s office and the council. Andril would be there, sitting alongside their father. Endric had never felt that their father wanted the same for him. Not that it mattered to him anyway. He was happier being a simple soldier.
A thought troubled him as he made his way to find his sword and then Tildan. He had not thought of how Andril’s eventual succession would affect others. Andril’s promotion to en’raen had come with Tordal’s retirement. The man had served the Denraen for thirty years and had left scarred but on his own terms. All knew Dendril intended Andril to be general. None in the Denraen debated the logic of the decision; Andril was nearly as respected as Dendril, if not as unapproachable.
But Andril’s eventual promotion would impact others. Each general put their own stamp on the Denraen leadership, and Dendril had been no different. Something Urik had said bothered him. The spymaster was calculating and a skilled planner, traits his father respected and used. But could those same traits complicate things for his brother? Could Listain already fear Andril’s promotion?
He started down the hall toward the cells to retrieve his sword, wondering if there was more to Listain’s attitude toward him than he had thought and suddenly realizing he might need to be more careful.
Read the rest of Soldier Son now!
About the Author
DK Holmberg currently lives in rural Minnesota where the winter cold and the summer mosquitoes keep him inside and writing. He has two active children who inspire him to keep telling new stories.
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Also by D.K. Holmberg
The Cloud Warrior Saga
Chased by Fire
Bound by Fire
Changed by Fire
Fortress of Fire
Forged in Fire
Serpent of Fire
Servant of Fire
Born of Fire
Broken of Fire
Cycle of Fire
Others in the Cloud Warrior Series
Prelude to Fire
Chasing the Wind
Drowned by Water
Deceived by Water
Salvaged by Water
The Endless War
&nb
sp; Journey of Fire and Night
Darkness Rising
Endless Night
Summoner’s Bond
Seal of Light
The Lost Prophecy
The Threat of Madness
The Warrior Mage
Tower of the Gods
Twist of the Fibers
The Teralin Sword
Soldier Son
Soldier Sword
The Shadow Accords
Shadow Blessed
Shadow Cursed
Shadow Born
Shadow Lost
The Dark Ability
The Dark Ability
The Heartstone Blade
The Tower of Venass
Blood of the Watcher
The Shadowsteel Forge
The Guild Secret
Rise of the Elder
The Sighted Assassin
The Painted Girl (novella)
The Binders Game
The Forgotten
Assassin’s End
The Lost Garden
Keeper of the Forest
The Desolate Bond
Keeper of Light
The Painter Mage
Shifted Agony
Arcane Mark
Painter For Hire
Stolen Compass
Stone Dragon