by Ed Gentry
“Does it?”
“I meant no offense,” he said with a bow and a gesture of apology, wiping three fingers down his chin.
“It’s quite all right, Taennen. May we talk frankly?” she said. If she was going to try to get answers, she might as well go straight to the heart of the matter. “Taennen, I have been unable to speak with the prisoners yet. Urir Valshu said it was unsafe and that with more time to examine them, he could allow me to interrogate them myself.”
“They are very dangerous, Orir,” Taennen said.
“I know that, but I hope you can understand my position. I need to know what’s going on. I’d be a poor leader if I led my soldiers blindly without gathering all the intelligence I possibly could,” Adeenya said.
Taennen nodded, looking vaguely uncomfortable. She was getting to him.
“I’ll be blunt, Taennen. I need your help,” she said.
“I would be pleased to help if I can, Orir,” he said.
Adeenya smiled. “Excellent. Tell me about the prisoners.”
“I know very little, sir. I haven’t even been able to interview them myself,” he said.
“What you do know would be helpful,” Adeenya said.
“Orir, if I had any answers for you, I would share them,” the Maquar said. His stiffened posture told her what she needed to know. She was being excluded. The urir obviously didn’t think much of her command. He’d rather share information she needed with his skittish second.
Adeenya frowned and nodded. “Very well. If you do learn anything or find you can share something you might feel unable to share now, please let me know.”
“Good morning,” Jhoqo said as he fell into step beside Adeenya.
“Good morning, sir,” Taennen said.
“Good morning, commander,” Adeenya said, with a smile she didn’t feel. “You’ve trained a tough one here.”
“I certainly have. How are you, son?” Jhoqo said to Taennen.
“Well, sir, thank you.”
“Actually, sir,” Adeenya said. “I was just asking Taennen what he knew about the prisoners as I’ve not yet had the opportunity to interview them.”
“We’ve spoken about this, Orir,” Jhoqo said. “No one has been allowed to interact with them yet. It’s much too dangerous.”
“Very well, sir, can you at least tell me what you’ve learned?” Adeenya said. “Clearly that information is not too dangerous as you know it and stand before me unharmed.”
Taennen started at the woman’s bold words. “Orir, I don’t think—”
Jhoqo chuckled and waved a hand casually. “No, son, it’s fine. If I were in her position, I’d be asking too. So, what have you learned from my durir so far, daughter? ”
“Nothing, I’m afraid,” she said.
Jhoqo nodded at the woman and turned a smile on Taennen. Pride shone in his eyes. Adeenya bit back her anger. She needed to know more about the creatures, and their secrets were in her way.
“Commander, I am already disadvantaged with a company appropriate only for the simple task I was advised of.” she said. “I cannot do my job here if I don’t have all the information available.”
Jhoqo cocked his head and looked at her. “You have all the information you need, Orir,” he said. “Unless perhaps we’re of differing opinions as to what your job here is.”
“Sir?” she asked.
“Your job, Orir, is to follow my orders and support the Maquar in this endeavor,” Jhoqo replied.
Adeenya took a deep breath and said, “Sir, this is a joint mission. We are here to support one another.”
“But you must agree that I am in charge?” Jhoqo said.
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir,” she said.
“Very well. Then, why are we still discussing this?” he said with a small smile.
“Sir, the safety of this mission is part of my duty. Important information necessary to honoring that duty is being kept from me, sir,” she said.
Jhoqo squinted at her for a moment and said, “Are you accusing me of something, Orir?”
“No, sir,” she said. Adeenya did not fear the man before her, but his rising ire did not bode well for her career. Accusing an officer of negligence was a serious offense. Add it to that the fact that she had already tackled the man, and Adeenya saw her life as a soldier falling away.
“You need to be sure of what you are saying, Orir,” Jhoqo said, stepping toward her.
“Sir,” Taennen said. “I believe the orir is just trying to do her job. I would be just as persistent as she were our roles reversed.”
Adeenya did not know who was more surprised by Taennen’s statement, she or Jhoqo. The Maquar commander spun and faced his second. “Durir?” Jhoqo said.
“Sorry, sir,” Taennen said, lowering his head.
Adeenya could almost see the younger man’s spine melting away and thought it a pity. Her hopes for him had been raised when he had stood up for his principles.
She spoke again before she lost her momentum. “Urir, we’ve never seen anything like these creatures. Before she died of her injuries, one of my people told a comrade that the ant-creatures had done something to her … had tried to do something to her mind but had failed,” Adeenya said. “I need to investigate that. It could be disastrous for this mission.”
Taennen’s head snapped up and his eyes met Jhoqo’s.
“Gods damn it. You knew!” Adeenya said.
“Orir, keep your voice down,” Jhoqo said, glancing around.
Adeenya seethed and wished to say more, but after several breaths nodded. “Yes, sir,” she said.
Jhoqo sighed. “You may as well tell her now,” he said to Taennen.
“Yes, sir. I … experienced something similar,” Taennen said.
“What is it? What are these ant-things doing?” Adeenya asked.
“They call themselves formians, Orir,” Jhoqo said.
“Formians … where are they from? What are they doing here?”
“We don’t know,” Jhoqo said.
“Urir, I need—” Adeenya began.
Taennen stepped nearer her and shook his head. “We really don’t, sir.”
Adeenya was skeptical but decided she didn’t have much choice. She had achieved more progress than she had expected to. “May I speak with them now that I know?” she asked.
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” Jhoqo said. “Once we’ve halted for meals. But I’ll have your word that even your second-in-command doesn’t learn of this. I want this no further than it’s already gone.”
“Agreed,” she said.
Under the baking southern sun, the army stopped briefly to eat and rest. Adeenya followed Jhoqo and Taennen through the marching lines to where the prisoners were being guarded in a single-file line. A thin but strong rope bound their arms and formed a chain between each prisoner as they gnawed at waybread. The dozen or so humans and the halfling were at the front of the line, kept separate from the goblins and kobolds.
Behind them were the formians. Their flesh was dark but shone faintly iridescent in the bright sunlight. The formians were bound with double ropes—extra caution seemed prudent given their mysterious nature. The largest creature, the one who had felled Taennen, stood at the center of the others. The smaller formians seemed to surround the largest, as if protecting it. The cloths over their eyes did not seem to diminish their ability to be aware of one another as they flicked their antennae over the offered waybread. The Maquar guards kept several paces away from the formians, their crossbows trained on the creatures. Jhoqo signaled one of the guards to remove the gag from the largest creature’s mouth.
“Go ahead, ask your questions. Anything you learn will be for your ears only,” Jhoqo said. “And keep your voice down.”
Adeenya moved close to the largest creature. “Who are you?” she asked.
The creature turned its head toward her, and Adeenya felt as though dozens of eyes were watching her even though she was looking only at the dark cloth encircling it
s head. After a long moment, the beast spoke in a voice that sounded like twenty voices speaking through a hollow log, all jumbled together and with gravel in their throats. It proceeded to say a word so long, so incomprehensibly full of syllables, that Adeenya was reminded of a magic spell she had heard before.
She fought off a shiver and picked the only syllable from the garbled mess that could be made out. “Would it be all right to call you Guk?”
The formian twitched for a moment, the tiny appendages on either side of its maw clacking as it said, “Yes.”
Adeenya straightened herself and asked, “Are you … male or female?”
What Adeenya could only assume was a laugh, the sound of bird cries turned inside out and piled atop one another, burst from the creature and set her gooseflesh tingling.
“Male,” Guk said.
“Why did you attack us?” she asked, wishing now she’d never demanded to interrogate the strange creature.
“For work, for the hive,” Guk said.
“The hive?”
“My people.”
“What does attacking us get your people?” she asked.
“Workers,” Guk said.
“Slaves,” Taennen interjected, stepping closer to Guk.
“The other creatures with you were workers?” she asked, glancing at Jhoqo. The commander’s face was unreadable.
“All creatures should work for the hive,” the formian said. “All creatures will.”
“No one should be your slaves,” Taennen said.
“Why?” Adeenya asked the formian. “Why should everyone work for your hive?”
“There is work,” Guk replied. “There is always work. The work needs to be done.”
“But what if we do not want to work for the hive?” she said.
“The work must be done. You will work. Every creature will work. No work is chaos. Chaos cannot be allowed. You will work.”
Adeenya stepped away from the prisoners and took in a deep breath. The formian’s sort of devoted thought was dangerous. The world had experienced such zealous devotion before, and the results were never positive or pleasant.
“Do you see, now?” Jhoqo said, joining her.
“Aye, sir. We’ll keep this from the troops,” she said. She did not enjoy admitting the man was right, but the formian’s dedication had certainly put her on guard.
A melodious but melancholy voice called out ahead of them. “Let me go!”
Adeenya turned to see a grim-faced halfling covered from head to toe in leather and furs waving his bound arms as best he could. He was standing at the back of the line of humans just in front of the goblins.
“My name’s Corbrinn Tartevarr, miss. A little help?” he said.
Adeenya looked to Jhoqo who nodded for her to respond. The three officers moved closer to the human prisoners. Adeenya was relieved to leave the presence of the formians.
“I am Adeenya Jamaluddat, commander of the Durpari troops on this expedition. How do you find yourself fallen in with these creatures?” she asked, nodding toward Guk.
“He was a worker and will be again. Like you will become,” Guk said from farther back in the line, his voice grating, like thrown ice shattering against a wall. Adeenya wondered if the blindfold inhibited the creature at all.
“Get that gag back on him,” she shouted to the guards.
Corbrinn sighed. “What he said, I’m afraid. Well, at least that I was,” the halfling said with a sneer toward the formian. “I’m from Thruldar in Luiren. I remember being with a caravan of folks from Var the Golden. I’m a woodsman and often act as a scout in these parts. I was guiding the caravan back from a successful trading trip to Mulhorand. After that, everything gets a little fuzzy, but I know I was working for these things.”
The sun glinted off the halfling’s reddish blond curls. Adeenya boggled at how the halfling was not sweating himself dry in his many layers of clothing and furs.
“Why did you work for them?” she asked.
The halfling’s eyes went to the ground for a moment before turning to rest upon her again. “It wasn’t really like that. The reason didn’t seem to matter … just the work.” The halfling shrugged. “I can’t explain it. It was like my body just did what they needed to be done, and I couldn’t really stop it or even ask why I was doing it. But, I think the strangest part was that it was … somehow satisfying.”
“Sir,” she said, turning to Jhoqo, “we should let the humans and the halfling go, at least. They shouldn’t be bound so close to those things. They might try to reassert their control over them again.”
Taennen stiffened. “Sir, we can’t allow that. No one should….” he said, unable to finish his thought.
Jhoqo did not speak as he moved away, waving for the two to follow him. Adeenya followed, already knowing the man would say no. She did not know Jhoqo well, but he was not difficult to read at that moment. He wore his displeasure like a heavy cloak.
“Urir, these people did nothing wrong of their own will,” she said. “Surely we must—”
Jhoqo stopped her with a raised hand. To her relief his scowl turned to a look of exhaustion, and he seemed to deflate with a long sigh. “Surely you see why I can’t let them go yet? You worry about them falling back under the control of the formians? What if they are still under the control of those …”—his face curled in distaste—“things? How do we know how far that manipulation extends? We could set them loose only for them to come back and attack us to free their masters.”
Adeenya sighed. Jhoqo was right.
“And even if they’re not being controlled, even if they are the freest of spirits, look where we are,” Jhoqo said, extending his arm in a wide arc. “This is the wilds, my children. Aerilpar. There’s none worse.”
Adeenya followed the man’s gesture to the distant tree line. While small compared to the Lluirwood to the west, the Aerilpar Forest was home to dozens of clans of foul beasts that fought each other for power nearly as often as they fought the humans who tried to cleanse the woods of them.
Huge, ancient trees with twisted, gnarled limbs rose tall from the sparse grass all around them. Green and brown foliage dotted the edge of the woods, a sign of the heat. A branch of the Liontongue River far to the east fed the trees and allowed the forest to exist at all.
Taennen nodded. “Anyone we freed would be killed instantly.”
“Or recruited,” Jhoqo said.
“You’re right,” Adeenya said reluctantly. “We’ll figure out how to deal with the humans once we arrive at Neversfall.”
Jhoqo smiled. “Good. I’ll leave it in your hands. Both of you,” he said. “Now, I think it’s time we got moving.”
The Maquar commander offered a salute that Adeenya returned before he turned and walked away. The horns were blown to signal the soldiers’ rest was done, and the trek to Neversfall would begin again.
Taennen walked beside her, stealing glances back at the big formian. His face revealed neither anger nor fear. He was curious. Adeenya recalled his earlier outburst and wondered what really had happened to Taennen on the battlefield.
“Thank you for backing my play, Durir,” she said. “I appreciate the information.”
“It seemed like the right thing to do, sir,” he said. “Not that we learned anything.”
“You’re trying. It’s more than some would do.”
Taennen nodded. “My father always said—” he started but stopped when shouts erupted from behind them.
Adeenya spun to see a goblin’s arm hit the ground. The creature shrieked in pain as its life’s fluid pumped from the stump at its shoulder to splash into the dirt.
“Stand down!” Taennen shouted to a Maquar soldier with a bloody falchion in his hand. The man stood at attention, and the entire squad of guards and prisoners came to a halt. One of the small formians showed a trickle of blood on its abdomen, and another of the Maquar guards had his sword drawn and bloodied.
“What in all the One happened?” Taennen yell
ed, looking to the guard nearest the oozing beast.
“Sir! This one,” he said, pointing to the bleeding formian, “suddenly moved and pushed the goblin out of marching file.”
“And the goblin died for that?” Adeenya asked. When Taennen looked at her askance, she nodded and stepped back. These were his troops; this would go smoother if she did not interfere. Trying to command someone else’s troops was like wearing a stranger’s boots. The fit just wasn’t there and never would be.
The Maquar with the sword answered, “I thought it was trying to flee, sir. I didn’t see that thing push it.”
Taennen sighed. “Get the prisoners ready to move again and be sure to secure the bindings. Remember, stay with a comrade when dealing with them. Watch your partner closely, make sure they’re acting like … themselves,” he said. He turned to the soldier wiping blood off his sword. “Take someone with you and bury that body, anhal,” he added, pointing to the goblin’s corpse. “Be quick about it and catch up to the line.”
The man nodded and scooped the creature’s remains into his arms.
“And someone get some attention for the wounded one,” Adeenya said, motioning to the small formian.
“Go!” Taennen said when the soldiers did not move. One of them ran for a cleric.
Adeenya began to turn away, but Guk caught her eye. The formian’s face was impossible to read, so new and strange were its features, but there was something in the way it turned blindly towards her that seemed full of intent. To do what, she could not guess, but it was there. Guk turned away, facing forward as the army began to march again. The guards unwound new rope and set about securing the creatures even more carefully.
Adeenya motioned for Taennen to walk with her. “The large one …”
He nodded. “I saw it, too, Orir.”
They continued walking beside the ranks. After a few moments she spoke again. “You were saying something about your father, Durir?”
Taennen gave her a puzzled look and then nodded. “Yes. My father always said a man’s intentions don’t make him good—acting on them does.”
Adeenya nodded, finding wisdom in the adage. “Sounds like a wise man.”