Neversfall - Ed Gentry [12]
"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 half-ling. 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