Neversfall (4 page)

Taennen grunted against the stiffness and pain and rolled from the cot to his feet, but he immediately fell to his knees. He paused, taking several deep breaths, then stood and stumbled out of the tent into the dwindling evening light. The joint troops were camped, preparing dinner fires and finishing setting up their tents. Before he could speak to any of them, he heard a whistle and turned to see Loraica shaking her head. Her curly hair danced from side to side, sliding past a few scrapes and bruises that dotted her face and neck.

“I doubt you’re supposed to be moving around yet,” she said.

“When did that ever stop me?” he asked. “How long was I down?”

“Not long, just a few bells,” she said.

It even hurt to smile but he could not help himself. Since they met so many years ago, just laying eyes on his friend always made him smile. No one fought harder, listened more closely, or backed her comrades as fiercely as Loraica did. Even when they were only sparring, she gave her all. Taennen’s smile grew when he realized that Loraica was probably the main reason he was able to move even in so much pain at that moment. Her fierce competitive nature had taught him how to deal with pain. He had given his fair share of lumps as well. Everyone seemed only to draw them closer together.

“The healers managed some progress on the wound but they say there’s some sort of poison in your body.”

“Poison?” he asked.

“Yes, from the formian’s weapon,” Loraica said. “Formian?” he said, laying his arm around her shoulder’ for support.

“That’s what the ants call themselves,” Loraica said, taking his weight upon her as if it were nothing. “We’ve been questioning the one you were fighting. He…” she paused and then started again. “It’s their leader.”

“Show me this formian,” he said.

+ + 4- + +

On the Durpari side of the camp, Adeenya nodded to her men, who closed the circle behind her, hiding her from the sight of the Maquar. She crouched, the smell of hot grasses tickling her nose. She pulled a pendant from a pocket on her belt. Solid bronze but otherwise quite plain, the piece was

round and etched with simple designs of clashing weapons. She concentrated hard and touched the piece to her forehead, whispering the word her commanders had given her to activate the item.

Report, she heard in her mind. The sound was both one voice and many at the same time. One part boomed, others whispered, some sang.

Sirs, we were engaged and took heavy losses, she replied without speaking. The sound of her own mental voice reverberated in her head, and she wondered if her own voice sounded as cold and empty to those receiving her message as theirs did to her.

What enemy, Orir? You’ve reached Neversfall?

It surprised Adeenya that her superiors had known the nature of the mission where she had not. No, sirs. We encountered a large force of monsters and humans led by a type of creature we’ve never seen before, sir. They call themselves formians, she said, her mental tongue stumbling at the last word.

A long pause followed, and Adeenya nearly severed the connection, believing there was a problem with the medallion’s sending, when the voices returned.

We’ll expect a full report on these creatures.

Of course, sirs, but what about the present situation?

Proceed as ordered, Orir, came the response.

Adeenya could not hide her surprise. Though she articulated no words in her mind, the response was rapid.

Is there a problem, soldier*.

We lost troops on both sides, sirs, she sent. Two of our clerics are dead. We will be less capable in our mission at the citadel. We should wait for reinforcements.

You will succeed, Orir.

Adeenya knew not to say more on the subject. She

had long thought that part of the process of becoming a high-ranking officer must have been losing your memory of what it’s like to be in a bad situation with few troops at your disposal.

Adeenya felt a snap in her mind, like a twig breaking, as her superiors severed the mental connection. The response of the command council went against her own thoughts on the matter, but that was nothing new for her. She stood, clapping her soldiers on the backs in thanks for providing her privacy for the sending as she pocketed the device once again, but still held it in her closed hand. She found it soothing to run her thumb across the smooth metal surface of the device while she thought.

“Sir?” Marlke asked as Adeenya strode to her tent.

“We’re to proceed,” she replied.

“Anything else, sir?” the dwarf asked.

“No, Marlke,” she said.

The dwarf saluted and turned tightly on his heel. He began barking orders at the Durpari soldiers who were already working hard on setting up their camp and low fires. Adeenya watched the Maquar side of the camp and noticed Taennen, leaning on Loraica, moving toward the prisoners. She was relieved to see the durir standing, even if not under his own power. The ant leader’s spear had nearly rent the young man in half. When she had seen so much blood gushing from his stomach, she had been certain he was already dead.

Adeenya spotted Jhoqo near the prisoners and squinted to make out any details on the man’s face. He was writing on a parchment as he watched the prisoners. Cataloging them, perhaps? Even from her present distance, Adeenya felt the tension on the man and she could not blame him. The mission he led was of dire importance, and their first engagement had gone poorly.

“Odd species, aren’t they?” came Khatib s voice from behind her.

Adeenya cursed herself for not paying more attention and turned to face the man. She had not noticed his thin moustache when they met earlier. It lent his face a feline quality she found bothersome. He focused his gaze on the prisoners and Jhoqo just as she had done a few moments before.

“The Maquar or the formians?” Adeenya said.

Khatib laughed. “Before I joined them, I often wondered if the Maquar were human!”

“They aren’t, at least according to some of the stories I grew up with,” Adeenya said.

“Indeed, I’ve seen them perform some amazing feats. Especially him,” Khatib said, nodding toward Jhoqo.

“That does not surprise me,” Adeenya said. “What brings you to my side of the camp?”

“I did notice it was a bit segregated,” Khatib said.

Adeenya chuckled. “Why wouldn’t it be? To the Maquar we’re just mercenaries, aren’t we? Hired blades who will do anything for coin?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think the Maquar respect anyone who fights as well as your people did back there. But, to answer your question, I was here to see if I could assist you, but it seems you have things well in hand, as it were,” Khatib said, looking toward her pocketed hand that caressed her amulet.

Adeenya did her best to hide her surprise. “Yes, I think so. Is that all, then?”

Khatib smiled wide, his thin lips a mockery of the effort. “Yes, commander. I’ll take my leave, now,” the wizard said. He walked past her, giving a slight bow, and moved to the Maquar side of the camp.

Adeenya watched him go, wondering if he had come on his own or if the Maquar commanders had sent him to spy. She pulled the amulet from her pocket and looked at her distorted reflection in the polished metal. Either way, it didn’t matter. She had no doubt they possessed a similar device to remain in contact with their people. She placed it once again in her pocket and moved to help her people finish setting their camp. She wanted half a bell to sit and think, to absorb everything going on around her, but there was never time for such a thing. She grinned to herself. She had grown so accustomed to living at a fast pace, she would probably fall apart if she ever had to slow down and think too hard about anything.

+ + + + +

Taennen navigated the uneven terrain of the camp, having shaken loose Loraica’s supportive arm. He passed the sand-colored tents, the cooking pots, and the supply corral on his way to the holding pens. The Maquar set up their camps the same way every time, leaving no need to learn a new layout.

Stumbling as much as walking, he crossed the last several paces of the camp to the holding pens, which were nothing more than rope strung between thin poles sunk into the ground. The field did not lend itself well to keeping prisoners locked up. Taennen’s vision, still blurry from blood loss, picked Jhoqo out of the figures standing near the prisoners, and he approached his commanding officer.

“Sir, Durir Tamoor reporting for duty,” he said. Taennen saluted, wavering unsteadily.

Jhoqo turned and grabbed for Taennen, steadying the younger man. “You ought not be up and about yet, son.”

Taennen turned and looked to the pen. Seated on the ground were a few goblins, kobolds, humans, and a halfling. In another pen nearby, the formians were bound at the wrists and there were strips of black cloth across their mouths and eyes. There were a few of the smallest, a handful of the pony-sized ant creatures—the guards eyed one of these as it had no mouth to gag—and the large one who had given Taennen the wound that now ached and pained him so.

“What have they said, sir?” Taennen asked, never taking his eyes from the large creature.

“This one’s been quite open, actually,” Jhoqo said, indicating the large one. “The formians have one goal and one goal only.”

Taennen looked to the man steadying him and saw concern on Jhoqo’s face. “What is it, sir?”

“To bring order to the world.” Jhoqo said. “And as best I can tell, they plan to do it by making slaves of us all.”

Taennen stumbled, but Jhoqo did not let him fall. “Slaves? All of us?” Taennen asked and turned his eyes back to the creatures. “What of the other prisoners, sir? The humans and the halfling?”

Jhoqo turned from the holding area and walked away slowly. Taennen followed him as best he could, the world still wobbling a little under his feet.

“They say that they were slaves, put to work as manual laborers. They say the formians had some sort of control over them,” Jhoqo said quietly. “Hence, the blindfolds and gags. No telling what kind of magic they used to manage it.”

Taennen nodded, the itching of the invasions into his own mind coming back to him. “I’d sooner die than be a slave to those things,” he spat.

Jhoqo stopped and turned Taennen to face him. “It’s not that easy, boy. If they’re telling the truth, they had no choice.”

Taennen nodded, remembering his own experience on the battlefield but not wishing to share it with his commander. A Maquar should not be so weak. But he had a duty to report all he knew. He took a deep breath. “Sir?”

“Son?”

“Sir, during the battle… that large formian… it did something. Or it tried to anyway.”

Jhoqo stepped in close to Taennen. “Go on.”

“I could feel it trying to convince me to help it, but it wasn’t speaking. In my mind, it just all seemed like such a good idea for a moment. It made sense to work with them instead of fighting them,” Taennen said. “But I fought it off, sir. I shoved it out of my mind. I wouldn’t have followed them.”

Jhoqo nodded and stepped away, watching Taennen closely. Jhoqo had been the one consistent, solid influence in his life since Taennen had left his old life, and his father, behind. To see that immovable force waver with an uncertain look made Taennen shiver. Did the man think less of him? What could he do to ensure Jhoqo’s continued trust?

“Sir, I thought you should know so we could be watchful,” Taennen said.

Jhoqo nodded and said, “Well, let’s hope that the bindings we have on them make it impossible for them to try that again. I wouldn’t mention your experience to anyone else.”

Taennen said nothing but wanted to know more about the formians. It had all seemed so sensible and logical, if even for those few moments.

“I’ve not told the others about the domination plans of

the formians yet. Only you, Loraica, and I know,” Jhoqo said.

“And the Durpari commander, sir?”

“I’m just not sure yet. For now, we keep it between us.”

Taennen nodded but said nothing.

“You take issue with that, son?”

“No, sir,” Taennen said.

Jhoqo sighed.”I know they are our partners in this. Partners are well and good when there is danger to be faced and blood to be spilled, but I will not compromise the safety of Estagund until I know more about these Durpari mercenaries.”

“Yes, sir,” Taennen said, lifting his gaze again. Jhoqo was right, of course. The Durpari had acquitted themselves well in the fight but they were an unknown element. They had no code or rules. They were not like the Maquar.

“Very good,” Jhoqo said.

“What do we do next, sir? What of Neversfall?”

Jhoqo was looking to the ground but raised his eyes to meet Taennen’s. “What if it was these beasts that took it?”

Taennen nodded. “We should be on our way, sir.”

“Before we go,” Jhoqo said, turning a soft eye to Taennen, “I need you to tell me what happened out there.”

“Sir?” Taennen said.

“Son, you lost nearly a quarter of your men in that fight. Those are not acceptable losses and you know it.”

“What?” Taennen’s legs went out from under him, and he fell to the ground. He watched in silence as the dust settled back around and on him, covering his shins in a light powder. Jhoqo offered his arm to help Taennen stand.

“Who?” Taennen asked.

“The terir has the list for you,” Jhoqo said. “I asked her not to inform you before we had a chance to speak.”

Taennen accepted the man’s assistance and paid no mind to the dizziness as he stood. His eyes scanned the camp, looking for those he had led into the battle. The fight played out in his mind. He watched the deaths of the first two soldiers. Every commander had lost men under him—nothing could be done for that. But what if his idea of taking captives had cost his fellows their lives? He thought of the low strike the first woman had used. A few inches higher and the goblin would have been too dead to kill her.

His thoughts were interrupted as Jhoqo leaned in close to him. The man’s face was grim and tight. “What happened?” Jhoqo repeated.

Taennen focused on his commander and said, “Sir… I… I told my people to try to take prisoners if they could. I thought we could get some useful information out of them about Veldorn and maybe even Neversfall.”