Neversfall - Ed Gentry [15]
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The sound of gravel grinding under booted feet woke Taennen from his restless sleep. He could only guess the time, but the sun was nowhere near relieving Lucha of her nightly travels. Taennen took in a slow breath and held it to better hear. The grinding sound repeated. Someone was pacing outside his tent. Taennen released his breath and rolled from his cot. His stomach jarred him more fully awake with a jolt of pain. He covered himself with a light brown tunic and grabbed his khopesh. The pacing continued outside, but there were no other sounds, no indication of an invasion of the campsite. If hostile, the person outside his tent was either slow or foolhardy. Few enemies were ever gracious enough to be both.
Taennen stepped beyond the flap of his tent. A tall, thick man stood a few strides away, his pacing stopped. Haddar had been with the Maquar for a very long time, longer than Taennen. His rank of muzahar was well earned. He was known by all for his skill with the scimitar, and his drinking prowess was equally legendary. He stood with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. He was fully dressed, including his leather armor and his blade hung at his belt.
"Muzahar," Taennen said.
"They are dishonored," Haddar said. "Wajde is dishonored."
Wajde, one of the men lost under Taennen's command that day, had been Haddar's cousin and closest friend. Taennen felt his loss more than any other, as Wajde had been a guide and aide to Taennen since his youth. As much as Jhoqo had been like a father, Wajde had been an uncle. Where Haddar was gruff and firm, Wajde was warm and patient.
"I would gladly give my life for his honor, Haddar, if I could," Taennen said. "It is a dangerous life we lead, and my actions did not help matters."
"Wajde knew he could die in battle. We all know that!" Haddar said.
"I led them and it is-" Taennen started.
"I do not question your ability!" Haddar said.
Taennen frowned. "What, then?"
"Your mistake went unpunished!" Haddar said. "The honor of the dead demands a price be exacted. The urir should have done that, but no! You are like his own blood, his child of favor! He could never punish you. If any other man had led your troops into that fight with such a disastrous result, what would have happened? What would Jhoqo have done to him?"
"Do you believe, even for a moment, that I asked to be absolved?" Taennen said.
Haddar stared at him, his chest heaving and his hands clenched. From nearby tents, heads peered out at the commotion, and whispers filled the tense air. Another muzahar approached the two men from behind Haddar, motioning to Taennen that she could subdue him, but Taennen waved her away and motioned for everyone watching to return to their tents.
After a few moments, Haddar stepped in close to Taennen and grabbed the younger man by the shoulders. His grip was like iron and his breath was hot on Taennen's face. Haddar snatched the back of Taennen's neck and squeezed hard drawing him closer to his face.
Taennen looked at Haddar's curled fist and nodded. "Exact the toll for them," he said.
Haddar's face twisted, but his grip relaxed. "No. I will not. Because Wajde loved you like his own and because you wish for me to do it," Haddar said. "Better for you to live without the absolution."
"What in all the…?" came Loraica's voice from nearby. "Muzahar!"
"Terir," Haddar said, releasing his hold on Taennen as he stepped back.
"Taennen, are you all right?" she asked.
Taennen nodded and turned his eyes to the ground. The weight of Haddar's words pressed down upon him, and he forgot the pain in his stomach and the new ones in his shoulders.
"Explain yourself, Muzahar," Loraica said to Haddar.
"No," Taennen said. "It's fine, Terir. Everything's fine."
"Sir, I just saw him-"
"He did nothing. Let him be," Taennen said as he turned back toward his tent.
Loraica sighed but nodded to Haddar who narrowed his eyes and screwed up his face tightly. "I have wronged a commanding officer, Terir. What is my punishment?"
"You heard the durir, soldier. Back to bunk," Loraica said.
"Sir,