Neversfall

by Ed Gentry

  Chapter Twelve

  Several moments after Jhoqo had stopped speaking, the crowd dissolved like sugar in water, but Adeenya stood rooted to her spot, the whispered conversations of the passing Maquar sizzling in her ears. At first, she thought they were about her, suspicion about her role in Loraica’s death, but she soon realized that was not the case. The stunned faces around her, the angry tones and white knuckles—even if they believed she had betrayed them, her traitorousness would not garner such rage. Only treachery by a trusted friend could bring about these wild looks and fevered whispers. The Maquar felt daggers at their backs, and Jhoqo was the wielder of the blades.

  The Maquar commander had pulled Taennen aside for a few moments and, once the younger man had left, Jhoqo crossed to the leader of the new arrivals, the man named Bascou. The two men spoke into one another’s ears. Bascou nodded, his eyes on the ground until suddenly they flicked up and locked onto Jhoqo, who nodded. Adeenya glanced over her shoulder one last time and saw that Bascou was speaking to one of his men, while Jhoqo was nowhere to be seen.

  She scanned the dispersing crowd for Taennen and spotted him walking away. He nodded for her to follow, and she did. The durir had not struck her as the sort for secrecy, so she knew it must be urgent. She fell into step behind him.

  “I’m to join the Chondathan on another patrol,” Taennen said without looking at the woman.

  “How many soldiers on the patrol?”

  “Eight of ours, plus me, the Chondathan leader, and however many of his men he takes,” Taennen said.

  “You have a plan?” she said.

  Taennen grinned but his eyes were sad. “Not as such.”

  Adeenya forgot her response when she heard a low humming sound that caused the insides of her ears to tremble and her jaw to clench. She thought the ground itself might shake, and she remembered stories of buildings collapsing and cracks forming in the ground beneath people’s feet. She stopped and watched a nearby building as a guide. It did not move, nor did she, but still she vibrated, and the pressure in her ears grew. The confused look on Taennen’s face told her that she was not alone in noticing the unusual sensations.

  “What could that—” she started.

  “Come on,” he said, dashing toward the prison cells.

  She ran to catch him. He barreled past the soldiers guarding the prison building and disappeared into the darkness of the room beyond.

  “Cease!” she heard Taennen say from inside.

  She heard a grunt followed by a muted growl as she plunged into the darkness. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the low light. Another grunt of effort came, and she saw a Maquar poking one of the dog-sized formians with a spear. The creature scuttled to a corner to avoid the strikes. The guard spit a curse before stepping toward the big formian who stood still, bound and blindfolded.

  Taennen lunged forward, grabbing the man’s shoulder and pulling him back. The spearman shrugged off Taennen’s grasp but halted his progress toward the formians. “You are dismissed, soldier!” Taennen shouted.

  “Sir, the prisoners were planning something. Didn’t you hear it?” the man replied. “It was terrible. My ears felt as though they might ignite.”

  “Soldier, the Maquar do not harm their prisoners, regardless of the noises they make. You’re new to this outfit, but surely you know that,” Taennen said.

  The man nodded but quickly replied, “Yes, sir, but the sound … Sir, it was making me crazy, and the leader of the new men heard it as he went by earlier and said if it were up to him, he’d do something about it.”

  “Bascou told you to do this?” Adeenya asked.

  The Maquar man blanched and stammered, “Well, he didn’t order me to. But … well, you know … he sort of …”

  “Enough. Your orders come from me, the orir, or the urir. Do you understand, soldier?” Taennen said.

  The man nodded, and Taennen dismissed him, suggesting that the soldier get some rest. The man skirted past Adeenya on his way out the door. She closed the door behind him.

  Taennen went to one knee and looked to the assaulted formian. The young man stood after a few moments and approached Guk. He stared at the large formian for a few moments as though the blindfold were not there.

  “We’ll see the wounds are tended to,” Taennen said.

  “What do you think the sound was?” Adeenya asked.

  “I don’t know, and I don’t really care. They’re free to make noise. It’s not harming anyone,” Taennen replied.

  “True enough,” she said. She wanted the prisoners to be well treated, but the sound had unnerved her.

  “Your plan is working,” Taennen said in a low voice, stepping in close to her and pointing at the formians. “Word they might have seen someone in the tower is all over the citadel.”

  “What next?” she said.

  “You keep watch, and I’ll see what the Aerilpar holds for us,” Taennen said.

  “Good luck, Taennen,” she said. “Watch your back.”

  “You too.”

  Before she could reply, Taennen moved out the door, his shadow blocking the light that barely touched the darkness of the interior of the prison.

  He was right not to linger. It might look strange to an observer if they stayed in the company of the formians for too long. Besides, the strange ability of the creatures to manipulate those they came in contact with was nothing she felt like struggling with at that moment.

  Adeenya followed Taennen and stepped back out into the sun. He motioned the two guards outside the building to him and nodded as Adeenya indicated she would be leaving. He told the soldiers that no one was to mistreat the prisoners unless they wanted to deal with him. The guards nodded vehemently and answered every question with affirmatives.

  Loraica’s warnings came back to Adeenya. Maybe her plan did put the formians at risk unnecessarily. Whoever had killed Loraica was heartless at best. That person would not hesitate to kill alien enemies. If there were a traitor and the prisoners died in that room alone and defenseless, how would she feel? She had no love of the creatures, for certain, but the thought of them being executed by some assassin made her grim. The rumors had been circulating for a while. Surely the traitor would strike soon. Or perhaps the saboteur was wiser than that. Perhaps he or she would let anger and frustration boil over among the ranks. Maybe the sinister soul knew that eventually the soldiers would succumb to loss and infuriating helplessness until they reached the point where they would take care of the formians themselves in an attempt to ease the call for vengeance and action they all craved.

  Adeenya glanced over at Taennen. The man was distracted, lecturing his soldiers. The guards nodded, their backs turned to her.

  Adeenya ducked into the prison again and looked around. In the corner opposite where the formians huddled, she found a stack of stone blocks like those used to make the dividing walls in the room. She dashed behind them, pulling them in to make a snug space against the wall. She knelt down, hidden from the rest of the room. The formians had seen her, no doubt, but anyone else entering the room would not be able to.

  Every bad idea she had ever had flooded into her mind, but that tidal wave of feeling was turned away when she considered the guilt that would weigh her down if her plan led to the deaths of the formians. She would hide here and protect the creatures. She almost laughed at herself, the utter ridiculousness of the plan occurring to her. But impending guilt, duty, and a need to solve the mystery anchored her to the floor. She peered over the stones to see Guk’s head turned in her direction. Adeenya sank back to the floor and sat, waiting, hoping she was there for no reason.

  Taennen clasped hands with the young guards, a pact of trust forged between them. He disliked lecturing them, but he knew that tensions were running high. If one of their own had been willing to discipline a prisoner the way the spearman had, things were out of hand. He gave them a smile, confident that his words would be heeded, and left the two to guard the prisoners once again. He ordered them to see to th
e small formian’s wounds but otherwise to grant the creatures privacy. Taennen walked away from the building, his mood dark after the disappointing incident with the spearman and the nearly devastating interaction with Jhoqo earlier in the day.

  Groups of soldiers, Maquar and Durpari, huddled here and there in the courtyard. No doubt the newcomers were the cause of the whispers. Even Jhoqo’s impassioned speeches weren’t enough to put the Maquar at ease. As much as Taennen agreed with his soldiers’ discomfort, it was better to have the Chondathans working with them then not to have anyone. The midday sun beat down on him, but Taennen’s skin absorbed it hungrily and he enjoyed the warming sensation. It burned at the edges of his bad feelings, its warmth a kind of forgiveness he would not earn from any other source.

  Taennen saw Bascou speaking to one of the Chondathan men as a group of Maquar stood nearby. Bascou, clearly aware of his observers, offered them a smile and salute. When Muzahar Haddar sneered back in response, Taennen saw an opportunity to set the proper tone. He bolted to stand before the Maquar and took satisfaction in their rigid salutes.

  “You will show the proper respect, Muzahar,” Taennen said.

  Haddar eyed him hard, never one to hold his tongue. “They are darkblades, sir,” he said. “Foreign sellswords. Even the Durpari have more honor than they do. At least the Durpari serve their own country and only their own country.”

  Taennen glared at the man, long enough for Haddar to notice and become quiet. When he did, Taennen looked him in the eye before doing the same in turn to each of the other three Maquar gathered there. “Do you believe in the ways of the Maquar?” he asked Haddar.

  The man blinked but maintained his gaze straight ahead at attention before saying, “Yes, sir. Of course, sir.”

  “The Maquar are my family. Are they yours?”

  Haddar nodded.

  “A family must be willing to change and grow. After all, people die, marry, have children … isn’t this so?” Taennen asked.

  Again, the man nodded.

  “A family must also stand united, or surely it will dissolve. They may disagree, of course, but they must come together in times of need, yes?”

  Taennen did not wait for the man’s response before continuing. “The head of your family has asked of you all that he must—no more, no less. We are in trouble, brothers,” Taennen said, turning to look each man in the eyes. He added, “We must save one another. We are in a strange land, and we are overwhelmed. A good warrior must know when this is true and admit it to himself.

  “There is no shame in it. Jhoqo knows this and so has done what was necessary,” Taennen said, pointing toward the sellswords. “To protect his family,” he added, indicating the men standing before him.

  Haddar nodded and said, “Of course, sir. My apologies, sir.”

  Taennen dismissed them, the men all too glad to be on their way. He was not fond of the Chondathans either, but orders were orders, and, since the newcomers were already here and not going anywhere, inhospitality would only make things worse. Jhoqo knew what he was doing. They needed to trust their commander. He needed to trust his commander.

  Taennen turned toward the stairway to his quarters but stopped when someone called his name from behind him. He turned to see Bascou coming toward him, his hand extended. His long, thick hair seemed cumbersome. Taennen could imagine a hundred ways to use that hair against an opponent in a fight. It did not seem beneficial to a soldier. His plain dress also bespoke more stealth than battle prowess, and Taennen wondered at the tactics employed by the sellswords. He stuck out his arm and accepted the man’s clasp, returning it with a small squeeze.

  “Thank you, friend. Your help is appreciated,” Bascou said.

  Taennen nodded, wondering at the man’s accent. His vowels were stressed and accentuated, and his tongue rolled on his consonant combinations.

  “I know this is a difficult situation for your men, needing help from outsiders,” Bascou said.

  Taennen replied, “Yes, it is hard for some.”

  “I wonder, though, if your message was received by them,” the sellsword added, his lips parting in a smile that reminded Taennen of a teacher asking a question he knew a student could not answer correctly.

  “They’re good men. They’ll come around.”

  Bascou’s smile widened as he said, “Of course, of course. It is interesting to see how others lead, is it not? For instance, if one of my men had insulted you so,” Bascou said, waving his hands before his face as if to ward against that situation, “I would have killed him and set an example for the rest of my men.”

  Taennen felt uncertain whether he should laugh at the man’s posturing or take him seriously. He chose to stare ahead, attempting to show no reaction whatsoever.

  Bascou’s smile went crooked as he let out a small chuckle. “Very good, my friend,” he said, grasping Taennen’s forearm. “Thank you again.”

  “Of course,” Taennen said, realizing he did not know by which title he should address the man. It did not matter, and he did not care. He wanted nothing so much as to be away from the man.

  “I will see you in one bell’s time at the front gate. It will be a pleasure to watch you at work,” Bascou said with a slight bow. “It will be my honor to lead you into the wilds.”

  It seemed Jhoqo had found time to inform Bascou that Taennen would be joining him.

  “I understand that you will be picking our party yourself,” Bascou said.

  “That’s right.”

  “Good. I look forward to meeting the men and women you trust with your life,” Bascou said.

  “And your men? How many of them will be joining us?” Taennen asked.

  “None,” Bascou said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Jhoqo insisted that I lead only you and the Durpari. He believes it will lay a foundation of trust between us, a bridge, you know,” Bascou said. “And that it will show me your legendary skills.”

  “I see,” Taennen said. “Very well. I will meet you at the front gate.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  After what felt like an eternity of sitting behind the rough stone blocks in the corner of the dark prison, Adeenya was well past doubting her decision, her mind mired in regret. When the Maquar’s cleric had entered the room with a pair of guards and administered her healing power to the injured formian, Adeenya had been convinced her ruse was about to be discovered.

  Since that time, Adeenya had sat with her ear pressed against the front wall of the small building waiting—hoping—to hear the guards outside step away from their duty for a moment so that she might sneak away from her mistake. Duty, the goal she had held loftiest her entire life, was to be her undoing. These guards would never shirk theirs, would never leave their posts. Yet that was what she had to wait for. To leave, to simply stand and walk out the door when no one was aware of her presence in the structure would surely cause suspicion, and Adeenya knew all too well that she carried too much of that on her shoulders since Loraica’s death. Adding any more might mean she would leave Neversfall as a prisoner instead of a soldier, if she left at all.

  She glanced over the piled stones to see the big formian, Guk facing her direction despite his blindfold. The absurdity of their mutual inaction, their refusal to interact with one another while locked together in the small room, struck her. She sat cross-legged, her back stooped and sore, waiting. The same duty that trapped her—those loyal guards—would also foil any attempts by the supposed traitor. She could not get past the guards to get out, and the traitor would have a hard time getting in. Unless, of course, the guards were part of the betrayal. If there even was a traitor, she reminded herself. But there had to be. Khatib, the pendant, the attacks—there was too much incongruity there to deny as coincidence.

  The door to the building creaked open. The midday sunlight, highlighting the sheen on the carapaces of the formians, was dimmer than she expected. She had been in the room longer than she had realized.

  She heard boots
scrape against the stone floor, but the door blocked her view of the newcomer. The door shut, and as her eyes adjusted to the utter dimness of the prison once again, she fought the nerves igniting her entire body. They screamed at her to spring from her hiding place and run for the door, ruined purpose of duty or not, for surely a foiled plan would be easier to live with than being caught by the room’s newest visitor. To her surprise, it was Jhoqo.

  Jhoqo latched the door shut behind him. His eyes seemed locked on the formian prisoners. A long time passed before he stepped toward them and offered a greeting. None of the formians responded or even acknowledged his presence. Jhoqo withdrew a short sword from his belt and, through the bars, poked the piles of food left for the prisoners on the floor. He seemed to be checking to ensure their adequacy or freshness. He did the same to the small troughs of water provided for the prisoners.

  Jhoqo looked back at the creatures and knelt down. He scrutinized the smallest and spoke, “You appear injured. How is this so?”

  The silence after his deep voice was an enormous canyon, impossible to cross. He stood and hung his head with a sigh. “I have come on the most important matter between us. That is, of course, what we can do with you,” Jhoqo said.

  Again, no response came, and Adeenya leaned forward, anxious to hear more of the man’s words. After keeping the information he had gathered about the formians from her, she wouldn’t be surprised to find out he was still hiding more.

  “I’ve come to learn that you may have seen something during the attack on this place. Is that correct?” Jhoqo asked.

  Guk gave no response.

  Jhoqo shook his head. “I cannot help you if you do not speak to me,” he said. Jhoqo swayed from one foot to the other for several quiet moments before turning to leave. His face was in a tight scowl as he approached the door.

  Adeenya watched him through a small crack between some of the stones. His eyes drifted toward the piled rocks but did not tarry. He grasped the door handle and left the room. Adeenya shifted to place her ear on the wall again. She heard Jhoqo’s voice as he spoke with the guards outside.