Ed Gentry - Neversfall

"No harm done, sir," Taennen said. His pace slowed, and she matched him. She lifted her waterskin to her lips and took a long drink. She offered the skin to Taennen, who declined.

"He was a tinkerer, I guess you could say. He made magical items for folks, mostly things to make life a little easier," Taennen said.

"Sounds like an honest living," Adeenya said.

"Aye, sir. It is, so long as you don't use your talents to provide aid to criminals," he said.

Adeenya waited a moment before leaning in toward him to prompt more details. She didn't need to.

"There was this woman from Var," he continued. "I remember she smelled of sage and lemons, and her clothing was spotless. Even her servant dressed better than I have in my entire life-silks and brocades and exotic fur trim. She came in to pick up her order-a pair of ruby earrings that my father had enchanted to help the wearer hear better. The woman tested the pieces and offered my father her praise and a bonus for the excellent work. I was always heartbright of him, but seeing this regal woman compliment him… I nearly swelled to bursting for him."

"That must have been a wonderful feeling," Adeenya said.

Taennen smiled wryly. "Yes, it was. Father asked the woman if her elderly mother, for whom the earrings had been made, could come by his shop sometime as he would like to make sure they were working well for her," Taennen said. "I remember her laugh. It was like… like that twitching sound a hare makes when it eats, only louder. She said she would be sure to stop by her mother's grave and ask the woman to come to his store. When father asked what she meant, the woman laughed harder and asked if he had really believed that story. When he said he had, the woman called him stupid, and even her servant sneered. She said a fool had never helped her beat her rivals in trade negotiations before, and she hoped he was honored to be the first."

"Eavesdropping? She wanted the earrings to help her eavesdrop on trade competitors?" Adeenya asked. "What did he do?"

"He asked for them back, to reverse the sale, but she refused and left. He didn't even try to stop her. Didn't even go after her," Taennen said.

"And the authorities?" Adeenya said.

"He never informed them," Taennen said, shifting his gaze to the distant tree line.

"Why? They would have believed him. There are trade dispute panels convened for situations like this," she said.

"I asked him to report her. Begged him, actually," Taennen said. "But he said we were too poor to lose the coin she had paid him. So he kept it. I knew it bothered him. It really showed. He aged several years in the few days after that incident." "He felt guilty."

Taennen nodded. "But not enough to do the right thing."

"That must have been hard, growing up with a father you knew had done something illegal."

Taennen turned to look at her and she saw a buried anger there. "I didn't. I was raised by the Maquar after that. By not reporting the crime, he committed one."

"I don't understand."

"I reported him a tenday after it happened," Taennen said.

"You had him arrested?"

"One day I realized I couldn't live that way, and so I went to the local magistrate. A Maquar there on other business took my father into custody and offered me a place in the Maquar ranks," Taennen said.

Adeenya studied the young man. She'd had disputes with her father frequently, but betraying him, even if he had done something wrong… such extreme adherence to the law, such pragmatism, was unnatural. Taennen watched her. She schooled her face against her thoughts. "The Maquar was Jhoqo," she said.

"Yes. I left with him that day to train as a Maquar. Over the years we became close and he watched my progress. When I was ready for assignment, he made sure I wound up in his unit," Taennen said with a smile. He seemed lighter and brighter when talking about his surrogate father than he had when talking about his birth father.

"What happened to your father?"

Taennen's smile fell, and he turned away from her. "He was sentenced to hard labor for a year. I hear he lives in Kolapur now."

They walked in silence for a long time. The sun was well past its zenith, and they would camp soon.

Adeenya could think of nothing to say to Taennen, her mind reeling from his revelation. Betraying his father seemed such a cold thing to do, but the man walking beside her was warm and kind. She knew him very little, but she saw that much for certain.

She wondered how a such a simple incident had left him so single-minded in his dedication to truth. What had that cost him throughout his life? Certainly he had missed out on having his real father around, but it also must have made the rest of his life difficult. Life was full of situations that were best handled with restraint, flexibility, and openness. Had he developed those traits since his youth? Zealotry was dangerous, and Adeenya could not afford to take any chances. The question she needed to ask would cost her the bond she was forming with the man, but she was unwilling to risk not asking it.

"Durir, do you think the prisoners are safe?" she said.

Taennen stopped and turned to face her. "Sir?"

The rest of the troops continued their march. When she was not moving with them, they looked like a parade. "Well, Durir, I'm sure your troops are well trained, but they've already killed one prisoner and injured another."

"With all due respect, sir, my troops said the prisoner was trying to escape," he said. His tone was sharp and left no room to press.

"Very well. I will trust your faith in them," Adeenya said.

Taennen nodded. He sped his pace and grabbed one of the soldiers near him by the shoulder. "Go to the Durpari dorir. The dwarf. Tell him to send four soldiers, himself if he likes, to stand watch with our men over the prisoners."

The young man nodded and cast a glance to Adeenya before darting away.

"That wasn't necessary, Durir, but thank you," she said.

"A gesture of good will," Taennen said. He offered a small smile, but his shoulders and arms were stiff" and he kept his strident pace. Though her words had stung him, Adeenya knew her concern had been valid, and she was never one to back away from a gut instinct. The sparkling image from her youth of the Maquar faded a little more.

Xaennen walked between Jhoqo and Adeenya at the head of the marching lines, the thinning grass and hills ahead of them and the forest to their right. Taennen tried not to look at the Durpari woman.

Taennen was responsible for his soldiers. Questioning their ability or behavior was the same as questioning his. He glanced at Adeenya and then at Jhoqo. His commander would tell him to ignore the orir s doubt and to do his job as well as he always had. Taennen put aside the insult that itched at the edge of his pride and decided to do just that.

"Durir, a moment," Jhoqo said, his step slowing.

Taennen matched his pace, and they fell back from the front of the line. Adeenya watched them for a moment before turning back to the front of the march.

"Yes, sir," Taennen said.

Jhoqo said nothing for several moments before speaking. "Son, why are there mercenaries near my prisoners?"

"Sir, the orir was concerned about their safety. There was an incident, sir. One of the goblin prisoners is dead."

"Explain, soldier," Jhoqo said.

"Sir, our people thought it was trying to escape. We think the formians were involved," Taennen said.

"That is unfortunate, but that does not explain why our duties are being performed by Durpari," Jhoqo said. "Were my earlier misgivings about sharing information and responsibilities with the Durpari unclear, Durir?"

"No, sir. Maquar still guard the prisoners, sir," Taennen said.

"I did not ask if they did. I can see they still do." "Yes, sir."