Web of Deceit

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “So let him waste his gold,” retorted Mistake. “It will get us back to Fakara. And with horses, we will be able to travel much faster.”

  “He has been kind to us,” objected Rejji. “I will not take his gold falsely. If not for him, we would still be slaves. If we have his gold, I will use it to buy lumber and create his dock. What good that will do is beyond me though.”

  “I think it is information that means more to Lord Marak,” Bakhai stated. “He worries about the tribes and what they may do to his country. I think that is why he wants us to go back; because we are Fakarans and know the country better than his people. I do not mind doing this for him. I have no love for the tribes. They are evil.”

  “They are not evil,” responded Rejji. “They are warriors mostly. The Zaldoni were much like the soldiers of Khadora except the Toraks seem to be higher in spirits and more devoted to their leader.”

  “The red ones are evil,” argued Bakhai. “The animals know this. The animals talk of death things walking the forests and killing everything in their path. They kill for the pleasure of killing.”

  “True,” Rejji frowned as his mind flashed back to his village. “The Jiadin are evil.”

  “And the Jiadin were trying to unite the tribes when we left,” added Mistake. “What will happen if they succeed?”

  Rejji frowned and paced the clearing. Suddenly, he turned towards his friends. “Very well,” he declared, “we accept Lord Marak’s offer, but I will not deceive him. I will tell him that I do not think I am capable of doing what he asks, but we will try our best. If he accepts that condition, then we are bound for Fakara.”

  “Good,” grinned Mistake. “I will ask them to make you some skins before we go. I want to get some arm and leg sheaths made anyway.”

  “All right,” nodded Rejji. “Bakhai and I will go see Lord Marak. Join us when you get done.”

  The three Fakarans headed back to the mansion and Bakhai followed Rejji to Lord Marak’s office. The door was open and they walked in to find Lord Marak staring out the window.

  “Excuse me, Lord Marak,” Rejji began. “I was wondering if we could talk to you about returning to Fakara.”

  “Certainly,” Lord Marak smiled as he turned and indicated that the Fakarans should sit. “I was wondering if you were beginning to tire of our hospitality.”

  “Not at all,” responded Rejji. “Your welcome has been most gracious and we have all become very happy here. It is a place I think we could easily remain in, but Mistake seeks the Sage of the Mountain to determine where her family is. It is a quest she was on when we met and I pledged to help her on it. I will understand if you do not wish to sponsor us on this journey. You have already done more for us than we can ever repay. We are indebted to you.”

  “An interesting woman Mistake is,” smiled Marak. “She almost seems familiar to me in some ways. There is no reason that her quest cannot coexist with what I ask of you. The trade deal we have spoken about is mutually beneficial to both of us, and our nations, but it can wait until you feel you are ready. The information on the tribes is important also, and that may well merge with your travels as you journey.”

  “I am sure we will discover more of what the tribes are up to,” agreed Rejji, “but without the port, how will we get information to you?”

  “I understand that our mages taught Mistake a trick that will solve that problem,” smiled Lord Marak. “The Air Tunnel will allow her to communicate with us.”

  “From Fakara?” queried Rejji as he began to doubt Lord Marak’s knowledge of geography. “It is a great distance from here. I don’t see how that would be possible.”

  “We have recently used it from deep in the Sakova,” nodded Lord Marak. “I am not sure how strong Mistake is with it, but it can be used over great distances. She will have to initiate it though, until you settle down in a permanent location. The mages tell me that you must know your destination before the link can be set up over great distances.”

  Rejji’s eyebrows rose. “Does Mistake have magical talent?” he questioned.

  “Some,” conceded Lord Marak. “That is how she moves so fast. I doubt she realizes it though. I asked our mages specifically to train Mistake for the Air Tunnel so we could communicate with you.”

  “I wondered about her speed,” admitted Rejji. “I have never seen anyone move so quickly.”

  “There is a caravan leaving tomorrow for Sintula,” offered the Lord of the Torak. “I will have the escort for the caravan take you as far as the Fortung Mountains. From there you will be on your own. Let Seneschal Pito know what you require for the trip. He will see that it is available for you. Bursar Kasa will have gold for you as well. If there is anything else you need, just let me know.”

  “You are most gracious, Lord Marak,” nodded Rejji. “I only hope I can live up to your expectations.”

  “Do not worry about my expectations,” smiled Lord Marak. “Improve the lot of your Fakaran people and you will have accomplished far more than anyone else has in hundreds of years.”

  Lord Marak watched the Fakarans leave his office and Head Mage Klora enter. He shut the door. “What do you think?” he asked.

  “Hard to tell how it will go,” frowned Klora. “That Mistake would probably take your gold and run, but she is devoted to Rejji. So is Bakhai. There must be something special about Rejji.”

  “You feel it too?” the surprised Torak Lord asked.

  “Feel what?” she quizzed. “What do you mean? I feel nothing special about him. I only meant that he has inspired loyalty in his two friends. Do you feel something?”

  “I do,” nodded Lord Marak. “I have no idea what it means, but I feel as if we were destined to meet. I have felt that way since the day they arrived and the feeling has only gotten stronger over time. How will he handle things? Did you overhear anything that might indicate their plans?”

  “Rejji is sincere,” Klora stated. “He feels he cannot fulfill what you wish, but he said he would be honest with you.”

  “He was,” confirmed Marak. “If it was not for this feeling I have, I would not have completed the deal. He feels there is little chance of success. He lacks confidence in himself, yet I feel confidence in his abilities. Why is this?”

  “I do not know,” admitted the mage, “but I have seen enough of your feelings to have trust in them. So should you.”

  “I am committed,” nodded Lord Marak. “Are you sure Mistake cannot detect the Air Tunnel you are using on them? You have trained her in its use.”

  “She could detect it if she was looking for it,” declared Klora. “She thinks of the Air Tunnel as a trick though and has not considered the possibilities of her new power.”

  “Well, keep spying on them until they leave,” Marak ordered. “The more I know the better I can plan. I should try to get some more Fakarans recruited in case this one goes astray.”

  “I will keep you informed,” Klora said as she left the office.

  ***

  The caravan pulled off the main road and turned on to a small, seldom used path. Mistake rode up next to Rejji as they passed between the sheer faces of narrow cliffs.

  “We have been here before,” she said softly. “This is the same camp Sebastian made the first night out of the Pikata estate. Remember, where he tried to get us to flee?”

  “I remember,” Rejji replied. “It seems so long ago and yet it is not. That means we will be in Sintula in the morning.”

  “Much has changed since that time weeks ago,” commented Mistake as she turned and looked at the three wagons and the column of black and silver soldiers escorting the caravan.

  Rejji watched as the Torak soldiers fanned out and filtered through the trees, as if clearing the enclosed forest of any strangers. There had been no commands given; yet these men seemed to know what was required of them and did it professionally. Squad Leader Botal, Gunta, and Halman continued down the small path, leading the three wagons and the Fakarans to the campsite by the stream. The th
ree soldiers remained silent and alert as the wagons circled the stone fire ring. Slowly, the rest of the Torak squad appeared from the trees and continued through the camp and into the trees beyond.

  The Fakarans dismounted and the wagon drivers unhitched the horses from the wagons. In moments the squad reappeared and dismounted.

  “The canyon is clear,” one of the Torak soldiers reported as he saluted Botal.

  “Perhaps we are blessed with another safe journey,” the squad leader retorted. “Gunta, see to the wire.”

  Rejji handed his reins to Bakhai and ran after Gunta as he headed back up the path. “Do you mind if I come?” he asked the Torak soldier.

  Gunta stopped and stared at the Fakaran for a moment and eventually shook his head and continued to the mouth of the canyon with Rejji on his heels. Rejji watched silently as Gunta reached through the foliage and extracted a long coil of wire. The Torak soldier ran the wire across the trail and secured both ends. Rejji tried to keep the wire in sight as Gunta prepared the trap. It was hard to see the wire and Rejji knew in the dark of night it would be impossible to see. He began to understand why Sebastian had disappeared as he had that night. It became clear that Sebastian was no ordinary merchant, but a well-trained member of the Torak clan.

  “Lord Marak has placed much faith and trust in you,” Gunta declared softly. “Do not betray that trust. We teach you our ways because he wishes it. If others learn of our tricks, many good people will die.”

  “I will never betray him,” smiled Rejji. “He has given us back our lives and even enriched them in the process. I only wish I could live up to his expectations.”

  “Then do so,” Gunta stated. “We have all thought at one time or another that his expectations were unattainable, but they are not. He does not place his trust foolishly. If he thinks you can do well for Fakara, then you can. The only block to your success lies in your own mind.”

  “Have you known him long?” Rejji inquired as they walked back towards the campsite.

  “I was a Situ soldier in his care when he was a squad leader,” Gunta stated proudly. “Even then I knew he was someone special. He cares for the people under him like nobody else in the world. I have seen him risk his own life to help a lowly soldier escape from an enemy stronghold. There is nothing Lord Marak would not do to help the people he cares about.” Gunta halted and looked into Rejji’s eyes as he added, “And the people who love him will gladly die for him. Betray him and you betray thousands who will hound you until your dying days.”

  “I have said that I would not betray him,” retorted Rejji. “Do you not take me at my word?”

  Gunta broke eye contact and stared at the ground. “You are a good lad and I believe you,” cautioned Gunta, “but your lass is another story. She strikes me as one who cares only for herself. She is pleasant enough, but many have sensed the tenseness she displays, as if she is looking for some profit to be gained in every situation.”

  “She has some habits learned over her lifetime that are hard for her to break,” conceded Rejji, “but she is a good person. I will stake my life on her.”

  “You are staking your life on her,” frowned Gunta as he turned towards the campsite. “I hope your trust is not misplaced.”

  They returned to the campsite to smell a hearty stew cooking and Rejji saw Mistake holding two bowls. He headed over to her with Gunta’s words echoing in his mind.

  “Where did you go?” questioned Mistake. “I looked everywhere for you.”

  “Just for a walk,” Rejji replied. “Thanks for getting the stew for me. I am famished.”

  “And a bit sore from riding?” chuckled Mistake.

  “Not as bad as yesterday,” he laughed and then turned serious. “Mistake, what if we cannot find this Sage you seek? He may not even exist. At what point will you admit that the search is futile?”

  Mistake looked at Rejji quizzically, “He exists. We will find him.”

  “What if we don’t?” Rejji persisted.

  “I don’t wish to discuss it,” Mistake said stubbornly.

  “Why is family so important?” Bakhai queried as he moved closer to his two friends. “Are not friends more important than a family you have never known?”

  Mistake scowled but it was Rejji who spoke. “Have you never known any family, Bakhai?” he asked.

  “No,” answered Bakhai. “The forest has been my home and the animals my friends. I do not understand how the sharing of blood can mean much when people have never met.”

  “I guess it is hard for you to understand then,” Rejji conceded. “I do not think I can explain the feeling, but the bond I had with my grandfather was more than friendship. It was a total and absolute trust, and a kinship that could never be torn apart. When he died, it was like a piece of me went with him. It is hard for me to believe that he is gone.”

  Squad Leader Botal approached the three Fakarans and nodded. “Tomorrow morning the caravan reaches Sintula,” he informed them. “Once the wagons enter the city, the squad will escort you eastward to the Fortung Mountains. We will attempt to get you to the foot of the pass before nightfall, but we will continue into the dark if necessary. It will be a very long and arduous ride. I suggest you get as much sleep as possible tonight.”

  ***

  Brakas entered the tent while the Chadang warriors held the flaps for him.

  “Greetings, Vrylok, Leader of the Chadang,” Brakas said. “Thank you for allowing me into your tent.”

  “Welcome, Brakas of the Zaldoni,” returned Vrylok as he waved his visitor to a cushion on the floor. “My apologies for our humble surroundings, but we no longer maintain a permanent fortress. The Jiadin seem to be everywhere since that farce of a meeting at Vandegar.”

  “Indeed they are,” agreed Brakas. “The Zaldoni have gone over to them. I fear it is a matter of time before they rule all of Fakara.”

  “The Zaldoni have joined with Grulak?” Vrylok queried with raised brows. “This is fact? What of you? Are you with the Jiadin now?”

  “Not I,” declared Brakas. “I could not abide by their decision. And to think I followed Wyant faithfully all these years. To give into the Jiadin without a fight is disgraceful. Now the Jiadin are stronger than ever. Other tribes have joined as well. The Galtok, Madren, and Ublix have joined in the last fortnight. Soon it will be everyone under Grulak’s rule.”

  “Not while I live,” Vrylok stated defiantly. “The Chadang will never submit without a fight.”

  The leader of the Chadang clapped his hands and the tent flap opened. “Food for our guest,” Vrylok bellowed.

  Brakas smiled at his host. “Thank you,” he said. “It has been some time since I have had a good meal.”

  “Where are you going?” asked Vrylok. “What will you do?”

  “I travel the land,” answered Brakas. “I am no longer Zaldoni.”

  “You are welcome to join with us,” offered Vrylok. “We can use a man of your skill when the time comes for us to teach the Jiadin that not all Fakarans will bend a knee to them. Wyant and the others are indeed a disgrace to pledge allegiance to Grulak without a fight.”

  “A very tempting offer,” smiled Brakas, “but a more noble calling has my attention now.”

  “What is it that you plan to do?” quizzed Vrylok. “Tell me of your plans.”

  “I seek to warn all of the remaining free tribes of what the Jiadin are doing,” declared Brakas. “Perhaps if I can find them all, I can arrange for them to unite in opposition to the Jiadin.”

  “That is a noble calling indeed,” frowned Vrylok. “And do you plan to lead this assembly of tribes?”

  “Not I,” responded Brakas. “I am just a Fakaran trying to save my country from a tyrant. No, I do not seek glory. The tribes are capable of deciding who shall lead them without my help. Perhaps it will be you who shall lead them. The Chadang are very respected among the tribes.”

  “Perhaps,” murmured Vrylok. “The tribes do not take well to serving under others.”
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  “Maybe I can convince them,” offered Brakas. “Do you know where any of them have gone? I shall try to rally them to you.”

  “I know where some are,” nodded the Chadang leader. “I will show you on the map after we feast. What news do you have of Grulak himself? Does he stay at Vandegar or does he journey with his army?”

  “I only know what I heard Wyant say before I left,” answered Brakas. “The Zaldoni were heading to Vandegar. I presume that means that the Jiadin remained camped there.”

  “We have seen the Jiadin across the plains and in the hills,” declared Vrylok. “So not all of the Jiadin are in Vandegar. There have been no sightings of Grulak though or that crazy son of his, Diakles.”

  “Diakles is of no concern,” Brakas said. “He knows not how to lead and even less about warfare. I have seen small bands of Jiadin in my travels, but nothing that worries me. Soon though, that will change. When Grulak has gathered enough of the tribes, he will strike to eradicate the rest before turning his attention towards Khadora.”

  “He would be a fool to underestimate Khadora,” advised Vrylok. “Their armies are battle trained, not from fighting innocents, but from battling each other.”

  “I have heard rumors that he has already allied with some of the Khadoran clans,” Brakas said. “If he pits one clan against another and then leads the tribes into Khadora, that country may well fall quickly.”

  “Any Khadoran clan that allied with the Jiadin would be fools,” spat Vrylok. “Grulak’s memory of a alliance is shorter than his knife. He would turn on his allies before the battle was over.”

  “True,” agreed Brakas, “but there are fools in Khadora. I believe the rumor to be true.”

  “All the more reason he must be stopped then,” Vrylok declared. “The stronger he gets, the more tyrannical he will become. Damn Grulak’s father for wedding that savage girl.”