Neversfall (33 page)

Adeenya fought on, convinced the battle was lost, hoping only to soften the enemy for Taennen’s invasion from below. She hoped he was having better luck, but she pushed the

thought away as she finished off her opponent with a vicious stroke across his chest.

She faced off against two more before the previous one had even settled on the ground. Adeenya’s arms were made of stone, her muscles fatigued from exertion and blood loss. She felt faint and questioned her eyes when both of her opponents were suddenly yanked backward away from her.

The big formian, Guk, appeared out of nowhere, sending four of the larger formians into the fighting. Two of them ripped and clawed at the Chondathans she had been fighting, the humans already bleeding from fresh wounds. Guk disappeared, leaving his soldiers behind to fight. Where he had gone, Adeenya did not know, nor did she care. The possibility of surviving until Taennen’s forces arrived to meet them in the middle of the battle suddenly seemed real.

Adeenya stumbled forward, strength returning to her limbs as though her newly regained hope was healing her. She stayed on the fringe of the formians, stabbing their opponents where she found openings. The Chondathan body count quickly rose, and the foreign mercenaries came together, tightening their formation to protect themselves.

Guk appeared again, the last two formians beside him. They leapt into the battle alongside their leader. Guk picked up a long axe from the nearby corpse of a fallen Chondathan and drove the weapon into an enemy. The big formian edged around the fighting, picking his attacks carefully.

Adeenya swore aloud when half a dozen more Chondathans came sprinting across the courtyard to join their pressed comrades. Her curse was followed quickly by a shout of elation as Taennen came into view, ahead of the new Chondathan force. Behind him were some of his soldiers. Instead of following him, they turned to face the

threat of the oncoming Chondathans, thus segmenting the courtyard into two battles. Adeenya thrilled to see Taennen again, but she kept her focus on the fight before her. She became concerned when Taennen stopped, still some distance away.

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Adeenya’s forces had been badly reduced, but she was alive. Guk’s warriors were handling the Chondathans well, rendering the darkblades unconscious when possible instead of killing them. Dead slaves made poor slaves, after all.

Taennen’s legs burned with fatigue, but the battle raged and nothing would stop him. Nothing—except the voice he heard from behind him. Taennen turned at the sound, two words uttered in a booming voice that carried over the din of clashing steel between them.

“My son,” Jhoqo said, standing on the far side of the skirmish.

Taennen glanced over his shoulder at Adeenya before facing the man who had raised him. He sprinted in that direction, a snarl on his face. Jhoqo walked toward Taennen, his steps even and steady. The Maquar urir parted the combatants before him like herd animals, pushing through them with no regard for their quibbling or their blades. His gaze never left Taennen just as Taennen’s never left him. Jhoqo stopped, standing his ground on the near side of the engagement.

Taennen charged at him, recalling the tactics Jhoqo had taught him to guess his opponent’s defense and determine how to penetrate it for a quick kill. If he did not kill the man quickly, he would lose the battle. The image of Jhoqo’s blood spilling onto the brown, dry earth in the early morning haze

of rising heat and cresting sun came into his mind. He felt no thrill at the notion, but neither did it disgust him as it once would have. It was necessary to ensure what Taennen believed in—a duty to himself and the others.

The first strike of his khopesh rang off Jhoqo’s armor with a metallic screech, but for the first time Taennen heard only his own voice in his mind with no interference from his father, Jhoqo, Loraica or even Adeenya.

Jhoqo spread his arms out wide and stepped back from Taennen. “Please, don’t do this. You have to know that I love you. You are my son,” the urir said. “I do what’s best for you.”

“Like you loved the men and women who have fallen here? Like you did what was best for Loraica? You killed her, didn’t you?” Taennen asked.

Jhoqo frowned. “No, of course not. She was my daughter.”

Taennen stepped back, wary of the man’s blade. “Your love cost Loraica her life.” Jhoqo said nothing. “Who killed her? Whose blade?” “Marlke. Marlke did it.”

“Then at least Loraica is avenged,” Taennen said. “And your Bascou is dead.”

“I wish I could have seen you fight him. I’ve no doubt I would have been heartbright of your prowess,” Jhoqo said.

Taennen roared and charged the man, lashing out with his weapon, again to no avail. Jhoqo stepped to the side but did not return the attack.

“I love you. You are my son.”

Taennen kept his weapon ready but nodded and said, “I do not doubt that you do, and I am grateful for the man you helped me become. The man who misses his murdered

friend. The man who knows that what you’ve done is wrong.”

Jhoqo cocked his head to the side and asked, “Then you intend to kill me yourself? Would Loraica want that?”

“I do not wish your death, but I understand its necessity now,” Taennen said.

A Chondathan man harried by two Maquar stumbled between Taennen and Jhoqo as they spoke. In a flash of brilliant green light, one of the Maquar turned to ash, his sword dropping to the ground with a rattle. The tower glowed and pulsed with the power that it poured down upon its enemies.

Jhoqo’s eyes narrowed, ignorant of the interruption. “Tell me why it must be that way.”

“Tell me why your former friends and soldiers are dying right now! Tell me why that cursed tower is slaughtering them!” Taennen said.

“It shouldn’t be happening this way. They shouldn’t be dying. But you have given me no choice, so I ask you the same question,” Jhoqo said.

Taennen scowled and said, “We’ve been dying since we came here!”

Jhoqo nodded. “A few deaths, to bring the rest together. Unity has always been my goal,” he said

“More than a few died!” Taennen said.

“It became clear to me that I could not sway as many of you as I had hoped. When Bascou’s men came, I saw in the faces of our own soldiers that they would never see the light and truth. I knew then that more had to be done,” Jhoqo said. “Fear inspires where loyalty cannot. Things needed to escalate.”

“Escalate? Listen to yourselfl You sound so… practical about it all,” Taennen said.

“It is for the glory and benefit of Estagund that I do what I do now! I had hoped you would understand too.”

“So you shut me out of your plans? You kept me in the dark to your true motivations? You killed my best friend? A soldier whom you loved?” Taennen asked. “That does not sound hopeful to me. But now that I see your plan, I owe you thanks. Before we came here, I probably would have followed you blindly down whatever path you chose. But now I can see your depravity and save myself from your fate.”

Jhoqo stiffened his posture and said, “You must choose your way as everyone must. The South does not seek unseeing dolts and, as its defender, neither do I. We abound in mindless followers as it is. I wanted you to choose. I wanted to tell you everything. I wanted your help in righting the wrongs. But you are making the wrong choice.”

“Then you’ve not presented me with one at all,” Taennen said as he began to circle his opponent.

Jhoqo answered the maneuver by moving as well, his head hanging low. “No. You still have a choice and have had all along.”

“Did you give Loraica a choice?” Taennen asked.

“You see the injustices every day, but you choose to do nothing! I am a freedom fighter. I see the inequities and work to right them,” Jhoqo said, ignoring the question.

“Freedom fighter? Fighting for the wealthy merchants who pay you to make them more coin illegally?” Taennen said. “For the chakas who can’t see past their own purses?”

“For everyone!” Jhoqo shouted. “For everyone, son. Philosophies are murky, messy things, impossible to interpret, but the Adama is very clear on one thing: All is one. Everything is connected. You believe that, I know you do.”

Taennen did not respond but lowered his khopesh, even as the screams of dying soldiers rolled in waves through the courtyard. More scorching rays from the tower rained down.

“That’s all I’m fighting for. If our people are allowed to trade with Mulhorand, then they make more coin. They spend that coin at home where more of our people benefit from that spending. It comes full circle, elevating the wealth of the lesser merchants as they sell to the wealthier, thereby spreading the wealth. All around it, our people will be better for it,” Jhoqo said.

“Until they are crushed by the Mulhorandi’s endless war,” Taennen replied. He lifted his khopesh and advanced. “When you became a Maquar you swore to uphold the rajah’s laws. What about those? You’re breaking a law.”

Jhoqo retreated a little way.”An unjust law. A law that limits the freedoms of our people, a law that benefits no one other than those countries who are selling Mulhorand their goods without competition from us!” Jhoqo said.

“Sell to them. Sell them the shirt off your back, but not weapons with which they will spill more innocent blood,” Taennen said.

“For a man leading a rebellion against his commanding officer, you are clinging strongly to laws,” Jhoqo said.

Taennen paused a moment before responding, “I don’t care about the law anymore. I care about what’s right. Profiting from blood and war is wrong. Stopping you from making that happen is right.”

“War is business, and it will happen with or without us. We should benefit from it!” Jhoqo said.

“You see benefit for our people measured by the coin in their pockets. I see the benefit of a clear conscience, a clean

spirit, and bloodless hands, the benefit of other countries expanding their trade with us because of our morals and beliefs, the benefit of trusting our leaders.”

Jhoqo’s face twisted, and he lunged forward. Taennen avoided his blade and stumbled back. He gained his feet in time to block another attack with his shield. His slash at Jhoqo’s lower arm was likewise thwarted.

Taennen moved faster than he had ever moved before, but it was not enough. Jhoqo’s blade sank into a gap in his armor near the bottom of his stomach. Taennen hopped back from the man’s reach but ignored the wound.

“This place, this citadel, represents everything the South should be. It is strong, promotes community, and offers opportunity for both trade and security,” Jhoqo said.

“It was built on laws and trust and charged with maintaining them both. It does all those things you said, but it does them openly, not in the dark, behind closed doors, and not by the murder of innocents,” Taennen said.

The noise of battle around them was dwindling. The Maquar, Durpari, and formians outnumbered the Chondathans, and the two separate clashes had become one as the Chondathans converged near the front gate. They formed a tight defensive circle and held their enemies at bay. The dazzling lights from the tower stopped, and a cry of the mage manning the post was heard below as the man fell to his death in the courtyard.

“The tower is ours,” Taennen said.

Jhoqo growled and ran for Neversfall. Taennen’s eyes locked with Adeenya’s as she was finishing off an opponent. His eyes lingered a moment before he turned and gave chase to Jhoqo. He followed the man through the door and up the stairs, both of them leaping several steps at a time. His body ached and his muscles quivered with fatigue.

Taennen closed the gap between them to only a few steps as they were halfway up the staircase. He reached out with his curved khopesh, entangling Jhoqo’s ankle. The older man fell forward, his face slamming into the edge of a step. Jhoqo rolled over quickly, his sword held aloft in defense. Taennen winced to see his mentor’s face covered in blood, his nose askew. His stomach did not ache with remorse, but his heart filled with pity.

“Kill me, then,” Jhoqo said, blood dribbling from his mouth when he spoke.

“Not unless I must,”Taennen shook his head.

Jhoqo smirked. “You speak of what is right, yet you’re simply a coward, too afraid to do the right thing. Too afraid to see our homeland attain the glory that is its right. Like everyone else, you’re not troubled by your conscience, you’re scared. That’s why the others had to die, that’s why I sacrificed them on those patrols. They would not allow the future of the South to emerge from destiny. I thought better of you, but I was wrong. The right thing isn’t always easy, son. I tried to teach you that. I can see I failed.” He swung the falchion at Taennen’s ankles, only to be blocked once more. Taennen shoved the blade away, breaking Jhoqo’s grip. The falchion clattered down the steps.

Taennen stared at the man for a long moment before driving forward, his blade sinking into Jhoqo’s gut. He twisted the weapon, eliciting a groan from the man. “You did not fail. I learned the lesson well.”

Adeenya limped toward Taennen as he emerged from the tower. Strips of cloth applied by one of her men stemmed the blood flowing from several wounds. The sword in her hand was dull, covered in gore that hid its sheen. She motioned toward the tower but did not ask the question.

Taennen nodded and scanned the courtyard. The fight was over. Weapons, shields, and armor littered the ground. Many Chondathans were dead, their bodies scattered across the stained courtyard. Those who had surrendered or been knocked out were being corralled by the formians at the front gate. The monstrous prisoners, goblins and others, were also dragged from the prison building and lined up at the gate in chains. Many of them screeched in protest but were quickly quieted by the formians.

“How many of ours did we lose?” Taennen asked.

Adeenya grimaced and said, “More than half. There are barely a dozen of us left now.”

Taennen nodded and stared at the rain-laden clouds, wishing they would drop their burden on his face to cool and soothe him.

“Why did he do it?” Adeenya asked, staring at the sky.

“For the good of the South,” Taennen said. “He felt he had to.”