by Ed Gentry
The man affirmed her orders and left for the wall.
“What have you learned?” Jhoqo said from behind her.
Loraica turned to face Jhoqo, reminded of the last time he had sneaked up on her. His face was plain, his gaze locked onto hers. His stealth was always disconcerting no matter how long she’d known the man.
“Sir, I have important news from the battle. I was just coming to see you.”
“First, what have you learned about the orir?” Jhoqo said.
“Sir, before the attack, I saw Taennen and the orir talking extensively,” she said. “After they separated, the orir approached me and told me of a plan to lure out a possible traitor that might have killed Khatib. She wants to spread word through the ranks that one of the formians witnessed the killer—one of our own—entering the tower during the fight.”
“That would be pointless. There was no traitor,” Jhoqo said, resting against the wall. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Loraica agreed. “Yes, sir, but the orir thought it worth a chance in case there really was a traitor, and she said that if there wasn’t one, then there would be no harm done. And an item was stolen from her during the battle.”
“What item?” Jhoqo said.
“A magical trinket used to contact her commanders,” Loraica said.
“Hmmm. That’s unfortunate, but I don’t see how that figures into these attacks,” Jhoqo said.
“Sir, she thinks it might mean that someone knew about her device, and might have betrayed us,” Loraica said.
“Nonsense. They’re wildmen. They just saw something shiny and valuable and took it,” Jhoqo said.
Loraica nodded. Jhoqo might have been right, but Loraica found all of the pieces of the puzzle harder to deny than he did. She decided to think on it further and said, “Sir, I think the orir just needs to feel useful, to be honest with you.”
“You’ve done well, Loraica. You’re a fine terir,” the man said.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Does Taennen know of this plan?” Jhoqo asked.
Loraica shook her head and said, “I do not believe so, sir.” Her guts wrenched, and in that moment she knew why. She wanted to tell Taennen, to let him know that she hadn’t gone over his head by approaching Jhoqo directly, that she wasn’t excluding him over his mistakes. She tried to comfort herself with assurances that she had done so on a direct order from her commanding officer.
“Let’s keep it that way for now. I’ll approach him with this,” Jhoqo said. “This mission has been a struggle for him. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Loraica replied.
“You also understand that this plan of the Durpari woman is unnecessary, don’t you?” he said.
“Yes, sir,” she said, uncertain for the first time in a long while.
“Good. Where would we Maquar be without our honor? Our prisoners are as good a measure as any by which we gauge ourselves,” Jhoqo said. “Using them as bait, even when we feel there’s no danger … it’s just not right.”
Loraica nodded, hoping she could share her news soon.
“With this latest attack, morale will be low,” Jhoqo said.
Loraica agreed. The soldiers of both nations would be demoralized by their inability to understand how the attackers had twice gained access to the citadel and how they remained so well hidden in the wilds.
“We need to strengthen the resolve of the soldiers to protect Neversfall and everything it stands for. We must defend our position regardless of the cost. This is too valuable an asset to our nations to let it slip through our hands,” Jhoqo said. “We need to figure out how these barbarians are gaining entrance to the citadel and how they killed Khatib.”
“Sir, that’s where my other news is important.”
“Of course, Terir. Please, what is this other news?”
“Sir, I believe I saw some of the invaders coming from one of the buildings in the courtyard.”
“Hmm. You’re sure?”
“Yes, sir,” Loraica said. “Very sure.”
“Maybe they were raiding it, or hiding there?” he said. “Well, it’s circumstancial, I suppose, but definitely worth looking into. Which building, Terir?”
Loraica turned and pointed to one of the smaller vacant quarters.
Jhoqo nodded. “I hope you’re right, Terir. If so, we can stop the orir’s nonsense about a traitor. The idea of a traitor in our midst only hurts morale more. If you’re right about that building, then we can firm up morale by reassuring everyone that the threat does not come from within,” he said. “And if the men discover for certain that the enemy is on the outside, they’ll stay alert and anxious to exact retribution.”
“Yes, sir,” Loraica said. “But it could be possible that they have an accomplice inside. It’s unlikely, but possible. Shouldn’t we at least consider it?”
“When you are a leader of men, Terir, you realize that belief is a stronger tool than truth,” Jhoqo said. “Uniting men in a cause by appealing to their morale is the single most effective weapon a commander has at his or her disposal. Remember that. Sometimes that means giving them all something to care about. Other times it means taking that something away.”
They stood there, facing one another for a long time before Jhoqo spoke. “You have wall duty this night?” Jhoqo asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I will sleep more soundly knowing that,” Jhoqo said with a smile, and he clapped her on the shoulder. “I will order an examination of the building you suspect is the invader’s entrance. Until we can prove something, though, please don’t share this with anyone else. I don’t want a panic, tearing buildings down looking for the attackers.”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Thank you, Terir. I believe firmly that morale will benefit if you are right. But if we get hopes up among the troops only then to dash them if we find nothing, I fear a greater plunge in spirits,” Jhoqo said. “Let me know if you learn anything else. Have a good night.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jhoqo smiled again and walked away. Loraica looked back at her dwindling list of soldiers’ names and pondered what the man had said. She had expected him to show a little excitement at her discovery, instead of launching into one of his speeches.
She sighed. If holding her tongue for a short while would keep the list in her hands from growing shorter, then that’s what she should do. But she wasn’t sure it would help to pretend there was nothing strange going on.
In the end she had made a commitment to Adeenya. With any luck, Jhoqo was right and it was pointless, but if he were mistaken, something needed to be done. Loraica settled into her pace atop the wall, watching the stars come out and wishing she had answers. Moreover, she wished she didn’t have the questions.
Chapter Ten
The dim light of the morning peeking through the high windows in the small stone room made Marlke’s frown difficult but not impossible to see. His lips were as square as the stones that made up the walls.
“Are you sure, sir?” the dwarf asked as he knelt to continue lacing his boots.
“Yes. The formian was very clear,” Adeenya said.
The room was clean and orderly. Marlke was discipline incarnate and always kept his quarters neat, as all soldiers were required to do in training, but few managed once they were in the field. He said it was good for morale, and Adeenya figured if it worked for Marlke, he was welcome to it.
“I don’t know,” Marlke said. “It sounds too convenient to me, Orir. They’re prisoners looking for a bargaining chip.”
“We can’t take that chance. They saw the traitor,” Adeenya said. “Until we can pry the identity from them we need to be on guard for treachery—all of us. Getting the information shouldn’t take too long.”
“It’s risking a lot on nothing,” Marlke said. Adeenya raised an eyebrow and the dwarf added, “Begging your pardon, sir.”
“I agree that it’s risky,” she said, “but it’s what we mu
st do.”
Marlke grunted and shrugged before saying, “Fine, sir. I’ll spread the word this morning during the meal.”
Adeenya nodded. Withholding information, especially from her own second, felt wrong and unbecoming to a leader, but she saw no choice given the circumstances. She had considered letting Marlke in on her plan, but had decided that the fewer people who knew, the better the chances of the plan working. And the plan needed to work. The mystery of her missing pendant still burned in her mind. She hoped she would not cross the boundary between caution and paranoia.
She thanked the dwarf for his cooperation and took her leave of him. The sun had just passed the horizon, but the morning air still bit at her cheeks as Adeenya strode across the courtyard toward her meeting with some of the jail guards. She paid no heed to the soldiers around her who were still cleaning up the mess from the previous evening’s attack. The dirt was still black where her comrades had fallen. She mouthed a prayer and continued on her way.
Adeenya moved around the side of the structure built to serve as the armory, reaching her quarters. The gray stone matched her mood. She disliked subterfuge and resented having to play at it. She passed through her door and sat at the desk on the right side of the room. Its light wood, polished to a high sheen, shone in the sunlight streaming in through the eastern windows.
She had found no rhyme or reason to the placement of buildings with different features in Neversfall. Some had tiny windows, others were normal. Some had heavy, solid doors and locks while others were secure but minimally so.
Adeenya sat at her desk to review her schedule for the day. After her meeting with the jailors, she would speak to the supply officer and then the cartographer. Every officer in her unit knew their job and did not need to be managed, but Adeenya had found her people often appreciated it when their she checked in with them. There was a fine line between going too far and riding one’s subordinates to the end of their wits and letting her presence be known. She made every attempt to make her expectations clear and her support obvious without crowding anyone’s efforts. A quick meeting once a tenday kept her informed and her subordinates on their toes.
She set her papers aside when a knock sounded on the door. “Enter,” she said.
Two jail guards entered and stood attention. The first was a tall Maquar, lean and trim with a seasoned and disciplined stance. His face was clean-shaven and his hair short and trim. The personnel records on her table showed his name was Initqin, though Adeenya could not recall having met the man.
The Durpari guard next to him was named Muria. She had joined Adeenya’s command more than a year before and Adeenya enjoyed the woman’s company whenever she found time. Muria was shorter, bulkier, and less meticulous in appearance than the Maquar.
“Good morning, sir,” Muria said.
“Good morning, Muria. Initqin,” she said with a nod. “Both of you, please have a seat.”
Initqin saluted and relaxed his stance. “I’ll stand if that’s all right, sir.”
“Whatever you like,” Adeenya said. Her dreams of joining the Maquar when she was a young girl came back to her in that moment—the proper demeanor, the strict order. Adeenya enjoyed her Durpari comrades, but sometimes she longed for more formality from them.
Muria sat facing Adeenya and rolled her eyes toward her Maquar companion. Adeenya smiled at the woman and shuffled through her papers for a moment.
“We’ll try to keep this quick. Do either of you feel that any guard changes are needed? Anyone having trouble with the duties? Does it seem like the prisoners are getting to anyone?” Adeenya said. “I know none of this is easy, even under ideal conditions.”
“Sir, for my part I think everyone’s doing pretty well,” Muria said. “We’re tired and shaken, but you know that.”
“Sir, I believe Bhariq could use a break from the jail duties,” Initqin said.
“He’s okay, really. He’s just a little tired,” Muria said. Adeenya was pleased by Muria’s defense of Bhariq but felt the need to dig further. Solidarity between soldiers was wonderful, but not at the cost of overlooking someone’s well-being.
“Muria, can you fetch his papers for me? They’re on the shelf back there,” Adeenya said. Duria nodded and headed toward the back of the room. To Initqin, she said, “Can you give me some specifics?”
“Well, sir, he just seems overly irritable. Yesterday he shouted at one of the human prisoners who was being persistent about being released. We all want to release them, and we all have to listen to them whine—” The man stopped, drawing the sword from his belt as Muria screamed.
Adeenya leaped from her seat, tipping over her chair and letting it clatter to the ground. She ran toward Muria who stood leaning against the bookshelf at the back of the room. Muria showed no wounds or signs of injury—only shock. Adeenya scanned the room. She saw a thin line of dark, dried blood on the floor and followed the trail to the corpse of Loraica tucked behind a chest and partially covered by Adeenya’s spare bedroll.
Adeenya’s ears rang with a low tone as her knees began to wobble.
Initqin appeared at her side and looked past her to the body of the Maquar terir. “What in the name of all the One?” he said.
“Muria, get help. Initqin, search the rest of the room,” Adeenya said as she began searching the area around the corpse. Whoever had killed the terir was long gone, no doubt, but there might be clues. Finding them quickly would be crucial before the room filled with more people coming to the call for assistance. Muria nodded and ran out the door.
Adeenya pulled the blankets back from Loraica’s body. Her flesh was cold and dry. She had been dead for some time—hours, at least. Adeenya froze. When had the body been hidden there? Had she slept in her room all night with the woman’s corpse nearby, or had it been concealed during the her visit to Marlke’s quarters? Loraica’s throat had been cut, much like Khatib’s. The line was smooth, made by a sharp weapon. Loraica’s hands and arms showed no immediate signs that she had struggled.
Adeenya pushed the corpse on its side to look under it. As she had suspected, there was also a deep wound in the woman’s back. Loraica had been attacked from behind, and then had her throat slit.
“Do you see anything, Initqin?” Adeenya asked as she moved a chest away from a wall. “There must be a clue somewhere.”
“Sir, drop your weapon,” the man replied.
Adeenya turned to face the Maquar who held his sword a few handspans from her side. “What are you doing, soldier?”
“Placing you under arrest, sir. Now please, drop your weapon.”
Adeenya felt a rush of adrenaline and fought off the urge to attack the man or flee for her life. Her military training kicked in and she saw the earnest look in the man’s eyes. He would try to kill her if she did not comply.
“Stay calm, Initqin,” she said, letting her sword fall to the floor. She held her arms out low to her sides.
“I will, sir. Thank you for disarming. Please remain still until reinforcements arrive,” Initqin said. Adeenya noted and appreciated his calm tone and demeanor. His commanding officer was dead several paces behind him, but he was collected and professional. Another soldier might have killed her where she stood.
“I’m going to sit down if that’s all right. We’ll sort all this out when Jhoqo gets here,” she said. She needed to sit. She needed to think. Loraica was dead in her room. If Adeenya had seen such a sight in someone else’s quarters, then she would have acted as Initqin had.
Adeenya glanced back to the rear of her quarters as though Loraica might rise and be well if she only longed enough for it to be true. But it wasn’t. It never would be. Adeenya ran a hand through her hair and returned her gaze back to Initqin who returned her stare and readjusted his grip on his sword.
“I’m not going to run, Initqin. I’ve done nothing wrong,” she said. “You really believe I killed that woman?”
“It hardly matters what I believe,” the man replied.
In h
er time with the Maquar, Adeenya’s childhood admiration for them had dwindled but never so much as in that moment. Duty, a fine thing, a tradition the Maquar held most sacred, was blinding the man before her.
She could see in his face that he did not believe she was a murderer. But his sense of duty made it impossible for him to choose to lower his weapon and help her reason out what must have occurred. He could come to her defense when Jhoqo arrived on the scene. He could but he would not. Initqin would stand there, weapon readied, and watch Jhoqo accuse Adeenya. That was duty.
“You can lower your arms, soldier,” came Jhoqo’s voice as he entered the building.
Initqin complied and stood at attention.
Jhoqo strode to the back of the structure and knelt next to the corpse of his terir. “By the gods, Lori,” he said.
Several moments passed, Initqin still staring Adeenya down, before Jhoqo rose and took a seat across from Adeenya. “Tell me everything,” he said.
Adeenya met his eyes. “I was here, discussing reports, when her body was found,” Adeenya said. “I have no idea how she got here.”
“You deny killing her then?” Jhoqo said.
“Of course I deny it. I didn’t do it!”
Jhoqo nodded and patted Adeenya on the knee. She held herself and did not flinch at his fatherly reassurance. Certainly that would not have helped the situation at all.
“Then what did? Are there any clues?” he asked.
Adeenya was puzzled by his question, his lack of accusation. “I didn’t have a chance to look for them,” she said, looking to Initqin.
Jhoqo nodded. “Well, rest assured we will come to the bottom of this. When is the last time you saw Loraica?” he asked.
“Last evening atop the wall,” Adeenya said.
“To what end? What did you discuss?” he asked.
“The situation with the invaders,” Adeenya said, seeing no reason to tell the entire truth. “And the possibility of the formians’ involvement. She was concerned, the same as I am, that there could be a traitor among us.”