Neversfall (20 page)

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 the small formians 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 light. 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.”

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 leatn 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.

“Get some rest, soldiers. You’ve done well. I’ll have your relief along shortly,” the man said.

The guards affirmed the orders. Adeenya heard feet shuffling as they all moved away from the door. If the shift-change was so close, then she had lost track of time by more than she’d suspected. She thought about taking the chance to slip out, but her plan might have a chance to succeed now. With no guards outside the cells, the traitor might

make a move. Adeenya stretched her tired legs as well as she could and readied herself.

+ + + + +

The sun was past its zenith for the day, but still it poured the midday heat down upon Taennen as he marched behind Bascou. The Maquar durir glanced back toward the fortress. Though it was still only a few hundred paces away, he felt the tether of safety it provided him snap in his mind. To judge by the faces of the Maquar and Durpari with him, he was not alone. Eight soldiers plus himself and Bascou made a small force, especially with an enemy lurking somewhere just out of sight.

“There, do you think?” Bascou said, pointing to the border of the Aerilpar in the nearing distance.

He indicated a narrow parting in the otherwise thick, unrelenting line of trees at the edge of the forest. The trees to either side of the path stood tall and straight at their bases, their tops leaning in toward one another with centuries of branches weighing them down. The opening looked like nothing so much as the mouth of some cursed cave, beckoning fools to enter.

“It is the only break in the trees. Surely it must be what the invaders use to gain entrance to the forest,” Taennen said.

“Exactly. We will find them quickly, will we not?” Bascou said with a smile.

“But they will know the area and could be expecting us to take the most obvious path to find them. If we cut a path through another part of the forest, we could come at them from a different—” He stopped when the Chondathan leader waved him off.

“Quicker is better. We will find them faster if we go this way. We will go this way,” Bascou said.