Neversfall

by Ed Gentry

  “You’re loose,” Taennen said, seeing that Guk had broken the bindings on his hands and had partially removed the blindfold. When had that happened? How long had he been under Guk’s influence?

  “We’ll double the bindings this time,” he said. Taennen turned for the jail door, wanting nothing more than to leave, when Guk spoke again and stopped him in his tracks.

  “You want the one that killed the wizard,” the formian said, his voice softening from its usual vibrato.

  Taennen focused his mind against further intrusion. “How do you know about that? ”

  “We hear. We see. We are prisoners, but we are not stupid.”

  “What about the wizard, then?” he asked, uncertain why he bothered. He strained to search his mind again, making sure the thoughts were his own.

  “We know who killed him. It was not the invaders.”

  “What?” Taennen said. The statement could not have caught him more off guard.

  “We saw the one who killed the wizard,” Guk said.

  “Who then?” Taennen asked.

  “When we are freed, we will tell you,” the formian replied.

  Taennen turned for the door again. To his surprise, Guk did not scramble for him to remain. Either the formian was telling the truth, or he was a far better gambler than one might think. His bluff called, Taennen faced Guk again.

  “How do you know who did it?”

  “We saw someone enter the tower.”

  Taennen cast his eyes around the room as the other formians watched him intently. There were many eyes between them. Maybe some of them had been watching the battle. And maybe one of them had seen something. The windows in the structure were small and high, but it wasn’t impossible.

  “Tell me, and I’ll speak to my commander about freeing you.”

  “Free us first.”

  “You know I can’t agree to that,” he said, deciding that sometimes in a bluffing contest only the man telling the truth could win. It sounded like one of his father’s adages.

  Guk’s mouth appendages clacked together as Taennen stared at the creature. The other prisoners stared at him with similarly stolid expressions on their faces. Taennen would have given a finger for a hint of insight into the minds of these strange formians. With no response forthcoming, Taennen decided that his only choice was to fold his hand. He shrugged and headed for the door.

  “We do not lie,” Guk said behind him.

  Taennen continued through the door, not looking back. Even if the formian knew who killed Khatib, that did not change his position. He could not promise the ant creatures freedom even if they could grant his fondest wishes; it simply was not within his power.

  He emerged into the courtyard and grabbed one of the guards by the shoulder. “The big one is free of his bindings. Get at least three others and bind him again,” Taennen said. “This time do it right and double it, if not triple it! Do not, under any circumstances, let anyone in there alone with him.” The durir turned in the direction of his bunk for much needed rest. His stomach wound still ached and nothing would do for it what sleep could.

  Adeenya woke to the smell of roasting meat. Her stomach’s rumblings urged her from her new quarters toward the cooking fires in the courtyard. The bright morning was warm, the citadel walls effectively blocking the fierce plains winds she could hear whistling above her. She was pleased to see Maquar and Durpari soldiers breaking their fasts together, sharing tales and tactics, telling one another about their respective homelands.

  She could not deny her disappointment from the night before, but she felt confident that they had done their best to track the attackers. The halfling, Corbrinn, intrigued her, and she felt badly that he had been returned to the holding building. She dared not broach that topic with Jhoqo yet, certainly not so early in the morning.

  She settled down with a plate of food, thanking the soldier who’d cooked it. She couldn’t identify the meat, but she knew a Durpari fikrie sauce when she smelled one. The tart and spicy flavors coated her tongue and pried her tired eyes wide open.

  Taennen approached and motioned to the ground next to her. Heavy eyelids, puffy cheeks, and other signs hinted that he had chased sleep through the night yet it had eluded him. She waved to him, and he sat beside her. They ate together in silence for a short while, the sun warming her neck and shoulders as it rose higher in the sky behind her.

  “Good sauce,” he said.

  “It’s made from two different fruits and more spices than I can remember,” she replied.

  “Congratulations on the expedition.”

  She turned a curious eye on him and was rewarded with a genuine smile. “We didn’t find much.”

  “Any expedition where everyone returns unharmed….” he said, leaving the sentence unfinished as he bit into a piece of meat.

  Adeenya couldn’t stop a chuckle and agreed. “And what about here, Durir? Any news? I’ve not spoken with the commander yet.”

  Taennen’s face turned dour. “Twelve dead, Orir. Seven Durpari and five Maquar.”

  Adeenya bowed her head, offering a prayer of balance to the Adama, asking for the powers that be to replace what had been taken.

  “Your dorir can give you the list, sir,” Taennen added.

  “How did the invaders get in?” she asked. “Even opened, the gates should have forced them all into one spot.”

  Taennen blew out a long breath. “We still don’t know. And then there’s Khatib.”

  She placed her plate on the ground and turned her body square to his.

  “He was locked in. I’ve no doubt about that,” Taennen said.

  “Then they found a way to break the lock?” she said.

  “It isn’t that simple,” Taennen said. “Jhoqo believes the attackers got the passphrase from the citadel’s former wizard.”

  “A traitor?” Adeenya said.

  “Maybe,” Taennen said, “or they may have tortured the phrase out of his or her mind.”

  “That makes sense, I suppose,” she said. “But you don’t seem certain.”

  Taennen glanced around and said, “One of the prisoners told me that Khatib’s murderer was not one of the attackers.”

  Adeenya’s head swam with too many questions. She did not know where to begin. “Which prisoner? How did they see?”

  “The big formian,” Taennen replied as he looked at the ground. “Guk.”

  Adeenya sighed. The word of the formians meant less than nothing. “You can’t be serious. Who does he say is the traitor?” she asked.

  “He won’t tell me until I free the formians.”

  “Who do you think did it, if Guk’s not just spinning tales?”

  Taennen dropped his fork to his plate and set both on the ground. “I haven’t any idea. There are over two dozen people in this camp that I do not know. It could have been any of them.”

  “You assume it was one of my people?” she replied, turning to see the man’s face turning red.

  “I …” he stammered.

  Taennen stared at her for several moments before holding out his left hand, palm up. He gripped his left wrist with his right hand and closed his eyes while lowering his head. Adeenya was humbled by the gesture, remembering its roots. Before Southerners learned of the Adama they lived very differently by often savage rules. If a man stole or even offended someone, a common punishment was the removal of his hand. Offering one’s hand in such a gesture as Taennen was doing was a sign of great apology and acceptance of wrongdoing.

  “Besides, it probably wasn’t anyone here,” he said. “Jhoqo is right. The last wizard of this place probably died right after revealing the passphrase. Poor soul.”

  Adeenya nodded, but she just wasn’t sure. She debated telling him about her pendant. “Why would the formian lie?” she said.

  “For his freedom, of course,” Taennen replied.

  “Yes, I suppose. He just …” she said.

  “What?”

  “He just doesn’t seem dishonest,” A
deenya said. “Frightening in his goals, yes. But not dishonest.”

  Many moments of silence passed between them. All around the courtyard, soldiers from both armies went about their duties, some on watch, some inspecting the small buildings, others hauling the dead bodies toward the citadel gate. They would be taken outside and burned some distance from the fortress.

  “Time to start new,” Adeenya said, quoting the founder of the Adama.

  “The beginning is the beast,” Taennen said.

  “What?”

  He turned toward her, a weak smile on his face. “My father used to say that every time he was working on a new spell or making a new piece for a customer.”

  Adeenya agreed. “He was full of quotes. You said he was good.”

  Taennen nodded. “He was the best enchanter in Estagund.”

  “Then I’m not sure I understand what you said about him needing the coin. He must have been a wealthy man if he was that good.”

  Taennen shook his head. “He refused to use his magic on weaponry or armor.”

  Adeenya lifted an eyebrow. “In Estagund, I’d imagine that limits one’s business opportunities tremendously.”

  Her companion affirmed her thought. “I should have known before I did,” Taennen said. “Who makes an honest living putting charms and dweomers on jewelry and decorations?”

  She still could think of nothing else to say about the topic. Taennen had lost one father and gained a new one in the same day. The idea of making such a choice at a young age was beyond her. Knowing that Jhoqo had taken the boy in should have made her feel more warmly toward the man, but Adeenya still found the whole situation unsettling.

  She decided to change the subject. “So where do we start on Guk? Where does the beast begin?”

  “If Jhoqo is right about the former wizard of this place, then we have nothing to do, no leads to follow.”

  “You might have guessed this about me, Taennen, but I don’t like to sit idle,” she said. She wasn’t going to tell him about the pendant, she decided. She couldn’t trust him with that part of the puzzle. She hated the feeling, but Adeenya felt little reason to trust anyone at that moment.

  Taennen grinned and said, “I figured as much.”

  “So even if Guk is a dead end, even if he’s just trying to con his way to freedom, it’s still a lead worth following simply because it’s there. If Jhoqo’s right, then it won’t lead us to this supposed mystery person of Guk’s, but we might find some other information of use. We both know that the formian knows more than he’s saying,” she said.

  Taennen considered for a moment before saying, “I think we can arrange to interview him more carefully on the matter. I can talk to Jhoqo.”

  “That won’t get us anywhere,” she said. “You know that. You’ve seen how hard Guk is. He won’t crack.”

  Taennen nodded.

  “I have an idea,” she said. “But I don’t think you’re going to like it.” Before he could reply, horns sounded, and Adeenya noticed a commotion at the gate. They both ran toward the front of the citadel, pushing through the crowd of soldiers as they went. As expansive as the place was, Adeenya fought against the feeling of being hemmed in as she waded through the crowd. She lost sight of Taennen for a moment, but found herself standing behind him an instant later, as he stood stopped in his tracks. She moved next to him as he shouted for the onlookers to stand back.

  On the ground before them lay the bodies of four soldiers at the feet of another five. Three of the dead were Durpari, the other Maquar, while two Maquar and three Durpari still stood. All bore scratches and were smeared with dirt. Adeenya shouted for a healer to be fetched.

  Taennen stepped forward to face one of the Maquar who did not bear a serious wound. From the sweat and mud on his brow, he had clearly been in battle. The two men stood silently there another moment, Taennen’s eyes locked onto the man before him, while the wounded man stared at his fallen comrades on the ground.

  “Report,” Taennen said, his voice a growl.

  The soldier shook his head and lifted his eyes to Taennen, giving his superior officer a look that Adeenya might expect to see on a dead man’s face when asked how things fared.

  “We were attacked, sir,” the man said.

  “By whom? Where were you?” Taennen asked.

  “On patrol, sir. The men who attacked the fortress before … it was them.”

  “You were outside the citadel walls? By the gods, man!” Taennen roared. “What in the hells were you doing out there with such a small force?”

  “On the urir’s orders, sir,” the man said firmly.

  Taennen seemed to shrink before Adeenya’s eyes. The color drained from his face, leaving a pale palette begging to be filled in again.

  Adeenya fought the urge to pull her remaining soldiers out and march straight back to Durpar. The Maquar urir had overreached yet again. Jhoqo had ordered men outside the walls, and now more of them were dead. That did not surprise her. She hadn’t been told about it. That did not surprise her, either. It angered her, but in no way did it surprise her.

  Taennen hadn’t known about the patrols, though, and that surprised her. She expected a certain level of secrecy on Jhoqo’s part. She was an outsider, after all. But Taennen was like the commander’s son, not to mention his second in command. He should have known about the patrol.

  The durir of the Maquar stepped away from his soldier as healers pushed through the crowd to tend the wounds of the injured warriors. Taennen took several steps backwards, the throng parting for him as he went. His eyes remained locked on the bodies of the men on the ground for several long moments before he looked up and found Adeenya’s face. Taennen turned from the gathering. She darted after him and found him on the far side of the crowd. She caught up to him easily and fell into step beside him.

  “He should have told you,” she said.

  Taennen shook his head. “No.”

  “You’re his second.”

  Taennen stopped and looked straight at her. “He was right to leave me out of it. I’ve been a joke of an officer on this mission, and I have lost the right to be in on those decisions.”

  “That’s not—” she started.

  “Stop. Please,” he said, holding up his hand. “I don’t deserve his respect, but I will. From now on, I remember my place.”

  Adeenya shook her head. “So you’ll just do whatever he says? Blind to what it might mean? Sending those men out there was foolish and he should have known better.”

  “I led my men into that massacre, I failed to stop the attackers, and now I’m following up on the words of our enemy who is trying to deceive me?” Taennen said. “Trust that formian? I must be mad. Jhoqo’s right to leave me out of this until I get my head straight. I need to regain my focus.”

  Before Adeenya could speak, Taennen started off again, his gait determined. She had no idea what to say and even less idea of how to say it. She let him leave. If he wanted to wallow in self-pity she would not stop him.

  Adeenya turned toward her quarters. She stopped when out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Loraica standing nearby, looking out of place. Adeenya did not doubt that the Maquar terir had been trying to eavesdrop on the conversation between her and Taennen. She considered reprimanding Loraica, but the plan she had in mind could not be accomplished alone. She needed help. She could not approach Jhoqo, and Taennen had chosen to remove himself from participation. Adeenya smiled at Loraica. She would do.

  But first, there was a more pressing issue to deal with. Adeenya made her way through the courtyard to Jhoqo’s command building. She took long, determined steps and kept her focus on the approaching door. The guard there didn’t even attempt to stop her, instead opening the door for her. Adeenya stepped into the dim room and looked for the Maquar urir.

  Jhoqo sat in a chair on the right side of the room, several scrolls lying around him in a mess. He looked up when she entered and waved her in. If he was surprised or upset at her arrival, he
did not show it.

  “Yes, Orir? May I help you?” Jhoqo said.

  “Sir, you are in command here,” Adeenya said.

  “I’m glad we agree,” Jhoqo said, rising to his feet.

  “But that doesn’t excuse your decision not to inform me that you were sending my people out on a scouting expedition,” she said. She held herself still and poised.

  “I had hoped that by sending out the party quickly and without much fuss, perhaps they could have slipped out unnoticed and caught our enemies unawares in the woods,” Jhoqo said.

  “I’m not questioning your tactics, sir,” Adeenya said.

  “Then what, Orir?” he said.

  “You did not consult me or even tell me what you were doing. My people are dead and I never even knew where they were,” she said.

  Jhoqo’s shoulders sagged. “They are back then? It did not go well?” he said.

  “I’m sure they’ll inform you, sir,” Adeenya said, “but that’s not why I’m here.”

  Jhoqo watched her for a moment. “Then tell me, Orir, exactly why you are here,” he said.

  “Sir, I’m here to tell you to not let it happen again,” she said, stiffening her posture. “If my people are to be sent somewhere, I expect to know ahead of time.”

  “Orir, you said I was in command, didn’t you? The resources in this citadel are mine to utilize,” Jhoqo said. “And that includes your forces.”

  Adeenya relaxed her stance and looked the man in the eyes. “Never again without my knowledge, Urir. Never.”

  Before Jhoqo could respond, Adeenya left the building, leaving the door wide open behind her. She felt better. She wished Taennen could experience what she just had.

  Taennen strode through the courtyard, ignoring the salutes as he went. They meant nothing. The men giving them had not believed in the gesture since before their fight with the formians. That fight was why Taennen had lost the respect of both his men and Jhoqo. His feet felt heavy and part of him screamed to stop, but he moved forward simply to be away from anything.