Neversfall (19 page)

anger he felt at the deaths of his friends and comrades, so he chose to blame the citadel itself. Neversfall, its magical walls and towers, beacon of security and free trade. Taennen nearly spit as he scanned the stone walls of the place. Some good these walls had done the men and women who had died here, he thought.

Jhoqo quieted those in attendance and began to speak. In a mellow, baritone voice he said, “Brothers and sisters, please hear me on this day. We have suffered much in our duty here in Neversfall. Undoubtedly, we shall suffer more still. But we are soldiers. Soldiers have duty, and we shall not fail in ours!”

Subdued applause from the Durpari and palms slapping leather from the Maquar responded. Jhoqo hopped atop a crate he no doubt had had placed there so that he might look into the faces of everyone listening to him. He threw his arms out wide and puffed out his chest.

“But we cannot do this alone. And thanks to the illustrious rajah, the government of Durpar, and of course, the All and the One, we need not. Today, friends to both Estagund and Durpar join us. With their help, we shall prevail in our mission here!” Jhoqo said with a flourish.

He waved his arm in a beckoning motion, and three dozen men stepped into view from behind one of the nearby bunkhouses. They all wore black leather armor with thin cloaks in the shade of blue that the sky attains between dusk and nightfall on a warm summer night. Most wore thin beards and were fairer of skin, having a more honeyed hue.

Taennen recognized them immediately: Chondathan mercenaries from the west on the Sea of Fallen Stars. He had met a few in his time.

Instead of marching in rank and file, they walked in

a triangular pattern with one man at the front and rows successively widening behind him. The foremost man was about the same height as Taennen, but he had a more muscular frame. His beard was trimmed and neat and he sported no moustache.

Jhoqo motioned the man forward as waves of murmurs rippled through the gathered Maquar and Durpari. A nearby soldier caught Taennen’s eye and gave him a confused look, as if imploring his durir to explain what it could mean that western foreigners were meant to be their saviors. Taennen nodded to the man, unsure what else to do, and looked back toward the stranger.

The newcomer joined Jhoqo on the crate and smiled, offering a tight wave much too practiced to be genuine. The Durpari were called mercenaries, but at least they worked for their government and people exclusively. The Chondathans, on the other hand, worked only for the right price, no matter whose gold paid them. They were truly mercenaries, soldiers-for-hire. Taennen’s mouth filled with a tang he found sickening. These men had no place in Neversfall.

The murmurs quieted, and the stranger spoke in a thick accent of soft consonants and tight vowels. “Greetings friends. I am Bascou, commander of the rakrathen you see before you. We are honored to assist the great nations of Estagund and Durpar in their time of need.”

At first, no response came. Jhoqo clapped alone in slow, measured beats until more joined in, and then nearly everyone’s hands were applauding. Taennen’s arms hung limply at his sides.

“Bascou, may I present my second in command, Durir Taennen Tamoor,” Jhoqo said.

Taennen stepped toward the man and nodded, not

offering his hand. His face was blank and he did not speak. Jhoqo narrowed his eyes at Taennen but never shed his smile. He turned to the crowd and said, “Please make our new brethren comfortable. Treat them as you would any comrade among you. Maquar, treat them as you would any other Maquar, Durpari, the same as you would another of your comrades-at-arms.”

A tidal wave of whispers and murmurs rushed through the assembly. Soldiers huddled together in hurried dialogues, some gesticulating, others looking stunned. Jhoqo ignored the reaction, clapping Bascou on the shoulder, dismissing the man and motioning for one of the Maquar to show the newcomers to their quarters. Jhoqo and Taennen stepped down from the crate, and Jhoqo placed an arm around Taennen’s shoulders, walking with the younger man. Jhoqo smiled and waved at the gathered troops who were now whispering among themselves.

Still smiling, he growled into Taennen’s ear, “That will not do, Durir.”

Taennen glanced over his shoulder to see the crowd dispersing, breaking into small clusters of soldiers, all still talking among themselves. Looking back to Jhoqo’s face, Taennen saw his phony smile, but he did not miss the anger burning in the man’s eyes.

“That was inappropriate,” Jhoqo said.

Taennen flashed back to his youth, to Jhoqo schooling him in proper etiquette while he was being introduced to the upper echelon members of the Maquar. Taennen felt all the more confused by the regression of their roles. Confusion gave way to frustration. Frustration hinted at anger like red skin around a wound hints at infection.

“Excuse me, sir?” Taennen asked, more loudly than he intended.

Jhoqo stopped their stroll and turned to face his second. “Your behavior was unacceptable. Bascou and his men are here to help us, yet you just treated him as though he were somehow outside the oneness, something less than part of the whole.”

Jhoqo’s face softened as he spoke the last words, but Taennen did not relent. He slid the man’s arm from his shoulder and said, “Sir, you just told your men—the brothers you trust with your life—to extend that fellowship to complete strangers.”

A snarl overtook Jhoqo’s face as he said, “I am your urir. You will show me and those I deem worthy more respect than that.”

“Are we done, sir? Am I dismissed, sir?” Taennen felt like a child again, frustrated by his father’s answer of “because I said so.”

Jhoqo took a step back, letting out a deep breath. He turned soft eyes to Taennen and said, “Son, I need your help on this. I know my command may not make sense, but we must have unity with these new men if any of us hope to survive. You see that, don’t you?”

“You’ve known your men for years and these Chondathans for moments, sir.”

Jhoqo nodded and said, “I know, but I see no other way to do this. We need to trust these men, and they need to trust us.”

Taennen’s stance relaxed as he said, “Yes, sir. Am I dismissed?”

“No,” Jhoqo said. “We are sending out another patrol expedition.”

“Sir?” Taennen said. He could not hide his surprise. “Is that wise?”

“You heard me, Durir.”

Arguing would get him nowhere, Taennen knew. Instead, he did the only thing that might help the situation. “Let me lead it, sir.”

Jhoqo cocked an eyebrow before shaking his head. “I don’t think so, son.”

“Let me prove myself, sir. I know I’ve been out of order, and I want to fix that,” he said. If Jhoqo insisted on sending out more men, then Taennen would make sure they all came back alive. Jhoqo got his scouting mission, Taennen a sense of control returned to him. Everyone would win.

Jhoqo stared at him for a long while. His face softened, and his voice was low. “You may join the expedition, but you will not lead it.”

“Who will, sir?”

“Bascou,” Jhoqo said.

“Is the Chondathan to outrank me in operations here at Neversfall?” Taennen asked.

“You are my durir, Taennen. You know that,” Jhoqo responded. “But Bascou leads this patrol. We need to establish him and his men among our ranks. I see no better way right now.”

“Yes, sir. I will serve him as best I can.”

Jhoqo’s lips curled into a small smile. “I know you will, son. I have no doubt.”

“When does the patrol leave, sir?”

“Next bell,” Jhoqo said, a softer gaze locked on Taennen.

“I’ll do a quick check of things around here, sir, and then I’ll convene with the Chondathan. Will he be picking the patrol members?”

Jhoqo thought for a moment. “Why don’t you select four Durpari and four Maquar for him? You know the personnel better.”

“Yes, sir,” Taennen said.

Jhoqo placed his hands on Taennen’s shoulders. “You make me heartbright, son.”

“Thank you, sir,” Taennen said. Jhoqo’s eyes did not hold pride. They looked sad. Jhoqo returned Taennen’s salute and moved toward his quarters.

Taennen needed to speak to Adeenya. She would be continuing her surveillance of the prisoners. He was more certain than ever that her plan should be carried out. Even if fruitless, her plan was trying to accomplish something important. What was Jhoqo’s plan doing? Taennen didn’t know. He hoped his commander did.

+

^everal 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