Neversfall (18 page)

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Authors: Ed Gentry

BOOK: Neversfall
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Claps against leather leggings came in response. The sound echoed in Taennen’s ears like rain on stone.

Jhoqo motioned for silence and continued. “Loraica was the absolute finest soldier I have ever had the pleasure of serving with and commanding. I know that commanders always say that, but without causing offense to anyone here, I feel the need to stress how true that was of Loraica.

“If she was given a task, it was her duty, and Loraica never shrank from a duty. She did everything at least twice as well as it could ever need to be done. If you told her you needed a fortification built that could hold back ten men,

she’d build one that could hold back twenty!”

Cheers rose this time before Jhoqo again silenced the crowd. “She will be missed. She will never be replaced in spirit. It is not possible. But we must continue. Loraica loved being a Maquar, and she knew that what we stand for is vital to Estagund.”

Shouts of affirmation filled the air, and Jhoqo had to shout over the din. “Let us continue in her tradition and fulfill our duty beyond even her lofty expectations, always!”

Taennen stood in silence as the cheers rose, fell, and rose again as someone from the crowd added another cry. The stares of those gathered should have felt heavy, he thought. To his surprise, he felt layers of confusion and sadness peel away under their eyes and cheers. His chest rose, his chin lifted, and he felt as though he might begin to float. His thoughts still clung to Loraica, but instead of pitying himself he began to wonder what she would want him to do, what she herself would do. Taennen straightened further, imagining himself as tall as his departed friend.

“Loraica saved the life of every person here at least once,” Taennen said. “Above all else, Loraica believed in loyalty to one’s self. We are taught to make decisions by examining a situation and choosing the most sensible course after weighing all the facts. Loraica knew this and believed in it. But,” he said, raising his volume, “she also had a heart and knew when to use it. We are Maquar. We are of Estagund and the South. That is all true. But we are also of the oneness all around us. Let us not forget that. For Loraica never did!”

Cheers and shouts buzzed in his ears, and Taennen felt separated from the moment in one instant and enveloped by it the next.

Jhoqo brought the noise to an end with a wave of his hands and spoke again, “Before we return to our duties, I

need to inform you that, due to the last attack on Neversfall and the loss of our brothers and sisters these barbarians have caused, I sent word for reinforcements. The further loss of our beloved terir today only convinces me that I was right to do so.”

The thought that Jhoqo had not informed him of these reinforcements flittered through Taennen’s mind, but it did not gain purchase in that roiling place. Help was coming. He was ready to accept it and found himself surprised that Jhoqo was as well. Normally very stubborn, Jhoqo had always said that his troops could handle anything and never needed help.

“It will take more Maquar and Durpari forces some time to get here, but the noble rajah of Estagund and the estimable chakas of Durpar have seen fit to provide us with trusted help from a wandering troop that has served the government of Estagund before,” Jhoqo said.

Murmurs whipped through the gathered crowd, and many eyebrows arched. Several of the Durpari moved closer to the gathered Maquar, having overheard the man’s words. Jhoqo nodded, waving his hands in the air, and said, “I know, friends. I know. I, too, wish we could simply wait for our Southern brethren, but we do not have that luxury. Our duty to protect this citadel is at stake, and we must never shirk our duty. Fear not—the soldiers they are sending us have a long relationship with the South and will aid us in our struggles. But now, my friends, we must say goodbye and return to our duties. There is much to be done.”

With those words, he set his torch to the pyre. A brand of straw ignited a bundle of sticks, and soon the flames quickly spread to the full structure. The heat rose rapidly in the warm air, causing sweat to bead on Taennen’s brow. He watched the yellow-orange monster devour the wood, but

still he had not looked at the body it was about to consume. He forced his eyes to move to her and drank in the sight of his friend. Her skin was lighter, her cheeks sharp, as though she had lost a great deal of weight. Taennen tossed his torch into the straw and stepped off the crate, wishing he’d had the chance to say goodbye in private.

Jhoqo’s arm found his shoulder, and the man whispered, “Go back to your quarters. We shall talk in the morning.”

The fog of absolute sorrow had thinned, but Taennen knew he needed to rest. He would need his strength to find the killer of his friend and to protect the others who had followed him to Neversfall. As he lay down, he murmured a prayer of protection and caring to the Adama. He had not heard the prayer in many years, let alone invoked it. Like most Maquar, Taennen had come to pray for order and the law of the rajah at the end of each day. Order was a fine thing, but what Taennen wanted was justice and safety. His fellow soldiers needed aid, and he would do his best to be it.

chapter efeuer)

faennen woke to the smell of fowl cooked with dried dates, the sweet and tart aromas, and the smell of roasting meat permeating the air. The dish basked in a thread of sunshine that crept into the room from the small high window. Taennen rolled out of bed, grasped the plate, and opened the door. He made it almost five steps before thinking of Loraica, but he did not stop or falter when he did. The image of her face in his mind helped to drive his step. He would avenge her.

Outside, the sun had already baked away the morning mist. Half a dozen soldiers from both forces milled around the courtyard, listening to one of their fellows who gestured excitedly but spoke in hushed tones. The troops nodded their agreement or made clear their dissent with hissed objections. The speaker was a Durpari, one of the men Taennen had led to the wall during the last attack. He was a fine archer, and by the look of things, the same could be said of his oratory skills.

Taennen walked toward the gathering, and the Durpari archer stopped speaking and greeted Taennen with a salute from some distance away, while motioning for the others to disperse.

“Hold there, men,” Taennen said, returning the salute, his dish still in his hand.

The soldiers all obeyed and held their salutes. “What’s this about?” Taennen asked no one in particular as he paced toward them.

“Nothing, sir,” one of the Maquar barked.

“Of course it’s ‘nothing, sir,’ ” Taennen said. He stopped and looked each soldier in the eyes. “I need to know before I can help.”

The Durpari archer stepped forward, now standing crisp and tall as a soldier should, and said, “Sir, I was telling them that we shouldn’t be sending out more scouting parties.”

“Of course we shouldn’t,” Taennen said. “The first one was slaughtered. We’re lucky to have any of them back.”

“The first two patrols, sir,” the archer corrected.

Taennen stopped moving and looked to the Durpari man. “Two? More soldiers were sent?”

The man nodded. “Very late last night, sir.”

“How many?”

“Three Durpari and three Maquar, sir,” the man said, his gaze holding Taennen’s. “Two of them survived, sir.”

Taennen turned back toward his quarters, dismissing the gathered soldiers over his shoulder. They scattered in all directions, pleased to be excused. Taennen closed the door to his quarters and hurled his plate at the opposite wall. Dates splattered against the stone, sticking to it like smashed bugs.

Taennen stood in his dim quarters and danced with a choice. He could go about his duties, or he could confront his commander about the man’s tactical error, for surely it could be called nothing else. Sending small units outside the walls was getting them killed by the strange intruders.

Taennen thought of the formians and suppressed a shudder. Were the Maquar fools for keeping them alive? The beasts had proven themselves dangerous. They might be controlling the attackers this time. Taennen thought about Adeenya’s plan. The troops were surely whispering about the rumor she had started. If one of them were a traitor, he or she would have to make a move soon. Taennen hoped Adeenya had been able to watch the prison. He would have to find ways to do the same himself.

Taennen dressed, hastily fastening his armor, slipping his boots on over his muscled calves, and sinking his khopesh into the sheath at his hip. He opened the door to the courtyard once again and took a deep breath. The air was dry and hot and stank of burnt wood from Loraica’s pyre. As he crossed the courtyard toward the building where Jhoqo had made his command headquarters, Taennen heard Loraica’s name whispered more than once, but he never broke his stride. Each utterance spurred him on harder. He arrived at the door and knocked.

A passing Durpari soldier stopped and saluted. Taennen returned the gesture and faced the door again, waiting to be greeted by Jhoqo.

“Sir, no one is in there,” the Durpari said.

“Where’s the urir, soldier?” Taennen asked, facing the younger man.

“On the north side of the central tower, sir, welcoming the new arrivals.”

“New arrivals?”

“The reinforcements, sir. They were sighted a short while ago. The urir will be introducing them soon.”

Taennen dismissed the man if for no other reason than to hide the look of shock that he knew must have been riding his face. Jhoqo had sent for reinforcements only

a day eadier—at least that was the earliest Taennen had heard of it. Taennen walked toward the central tower. He was comforted to see his face was not the only one showing surprise.

His shock was replaced by doubt as uneasy thoughts crept into his mind. The newcomers were quick to arrive. Who could these reinforcements be? How did they arrive so quickly? He had not known of any military presence this far in the wilds.

Then again, Taennen reminded himself, no one had known there were barbarians and man-sized ants roaming the area either.

+ + + + +

Adeenya saluted the guards and grasped the handle to the door of the prison housing the humans and the halfling. A pair of Durpari soldiers stood to either side of the door, looking tired.

“Sir?” one, an older woman named Nooawala, said. “You won’t be attending the announcement of the new troops?”

“No. Someone has to keep on schedule around here,” Adeenya said. The truth was, Adeenya needed to keep herself circulating near the formian cells to watch for trouble. The formians were guarded, of course, but Adeenya was unsure whom she could trust.

Adeenya pushed the door open with a creak and stepped into the room. The sun poured in through the door. The men and women inside all looked her direction, shielding their eyes from the brightness. The small windows in the building kept the structure cool but were not made for lengthy time spent indoors. The prisoners flinched in the sunlight.

Some of the prisoners greeted her and all appeared to be in good health. Though many glared at her as their captor, they seemed to be making the best of their situation, having divided the duties of daily life among themselves. One corner of the large room was for washing clothes, another for dishes, each making use of large buckets of grimy water. Everyone seemed to have a duty to attend. All except one.

Corbrinn Tartevarr sprawled across his bed, as much as a halfling could sprawl, soaking up the sunlight streaming in through the door. Adeenya approached him, leaving the door open for the prisoners to enjoy the light and fresh air. None of them would try to escape. They were safer inside the confines of Neversfall than they would be out in the wilds, and they all knew it.

The halfling still wore his hides but had stowed his furs somewhere, likely due to the heat. His eyes were closed, and he wore a broad grin as though dreaming pleasant dreams. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, but Adeenya knew he was not asleep. His stubby toes wiggled as she sat on the bed next to him.

“You’ve heard about the second expedition being killed?” she said with little question in her voice.

Corbrinn nodded but did not open his eyes or otherwise move.

Adeenya watched the halfling, wondering if it was wise to consult him. She had believed him when he had claimed that he had lived most of his life in the wilds and knew Veldorn well. Adeenya felt too alone and isolated both inside and outside the citadel’s walls. Someone of Corbrinn’s experience was valuable, at least as far as the space outside the walls mattered.

“Have you ever heard of a group of humans living in the

forest?” she asked. “How could they survive, let alone thrive enough to raid this fortress?”

Corbrinn pulled himself up with a grunt and locked eyes with her. They shared the look for a few moments before he raised his eyebrows with a shrug as if to say “Good question.”

“That’s what I thought,” she said, and gave him a pat on the leg before adding, “Thanks.”

She rose to leave but was stopped by the halfling’s hand on her wrist. She turned back to look at him and saw his face held a serious demeanor.

“They’ll pick you off a few at a time if you don’t find them,” he said.

She nodded.

“I can find them,” Corbrinn said.

She nodded again before turning to leave. Behind her, she heard the halfling’s bed creak as he lay back down and groaned a little as his back stretched.

Adeenya faced Nooawala and said, “Be sure these prisoners get some fresh air and a little time out in the sunlight.”

Nooawala began to object but stopped when Adeenya raised her hand. She headed toward the greeting of the newcomers to catch a glimpse. She could get close and still maintain her surveillance of the formian cells. With most of the fortress personnel distracted by the arrival of the reinforcements, this would be the ideal time for the traitor to make a move against the prisoners.

+ + + + +

Jhoqo bellowed his greeting to the gathered crowd—a crowd that had grown noticeably smaller since their arrival at Neversfall. Taennen did not know who to blame for the

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