Web of Deceit

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “That’s it!” exclaimed Mistake as she craned her neck looking for the leader of the attack. “They are here looking for Rejji.”

  “Well they won’t find him,” responded Bakhai. “At least that is something positive.”

  “Quiet,” ordered Mistake. “Be silent while I do this.”

  Bakhai shook his head and stared as his small friend as she wove the Air Tunnel to just outside the broken gates where three Jiadin warriors sat on their horses watching the town go up in flames.

  “Ride, Rejji, ride,” shouted Mistake into the Air Tunnel. “Head for the mountains while they are busy with the town.”

  The three Jiadin soldiers whirled towards the sound of the voice. They appeared confused and indecisive for a moment and then the one in the center started issuing orders. One of the riders charged towards the mountains and another rode into town, while the one who had given the orders sat and looked one way and then the other. Mistake watched while the Jiadin burning the town threw their torches at the nearest hut and rode towards the gates. The leader signaled his men and charged towards the mountains in pursuit of the phantom Rejji. Within minutes, the Jiadin emptied from the town and Mistake and Bakhai raced to the gates. Bakhai slammed the gates shut as Mistake studied the broken braces.

  “The nails on the braces were sawed in half,” she scowled. “I wondered how they thought they could ride into town without engaging the men on the wall.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Bakhai as he signaled the defenders in the forest to return.

  “I mean we have a traitor in our midst,” spat Mistake. “These nails were purposely shortened so the braces would break off. Not only that, but the Jiadin knew it before they attacked. They broke the gates open with poles held by riders. I thought it was foolish at the time, but I know why they did it. Our stockade wall was worthless when they could just open the gates.”

  The defenders from the forest ran to the gate and Bakhai told them to put out the fires if they could. He left the gates and strode over to the braces and examined them.

  “How long do you think it will take them to figure out that they are chasing the wind?” Bakhai asked.

  “I don’t know,” Mistake frowned as she gazed at the burning town. “Judging from the smoke, I don’t think they will bother coming back when they figure it out. They didn’t come here to loot; they came to destroy. I think they accomplished their mission.”

  “Well I think we will seal the gates anyway,” declared Bakhai. “If they come back they will have to deal with the archers this time. Did we lose any villagers?”

  “I don’t know,” answered Mistake. “They really weren’t interested in the archers much. They just rode past them except for a few and I didn’t see any of our men go down. I am not sure if the village was emptied though.”

  “There were a few men setting traps,” Bakhai stated. “Other than that it was pretty much empty. I am going to get some real nails for the braces. Why don’t you contact Yltar and let them know what happened here. I don’t want Rejji running into the Jiadin by accident.”

  “What about the traitor?” questioned Mistake.

  “We will deal with that after we are prepared for the return of the Jiadin,” replied Bakhai as he turned and headed towards the town.

  ***

  Gunta slid to the ground silently and waited for Halman to descend down the rope. When Halman landed they split up and searched the area for hellsouls and then returned to the double strand of rope hanging from the temple balcony. Gunta grabbed one strand of the rope and signaled the others that is was okay to descend. Lord Marak landed softly and drew his sword, paying particular attention to the temperature of the grip. Rejji slid down next, followed closely by Mobi. When they were all on the ground, Gunta pulled the rope, which was looped around a column on the balcony. Halman stood under the rope and caught it as the free end fell. Gunta coiled the rope tightly and tossed it back up on the balcony, so there would be no trace of their leaving.

  The group took up the same formation they had used to enter the city, although the street they were traveling on was much narrower. Nothing moved in the still night air and the group padded softly down the street. Nothing detected their stealthy movements and when the street met the wall, they turned to the right and proceeded until they reached the gates. Rejji touched the gates and they swung open. A shriek sounded several blocks up the broad avenue as the gates swung open, but the group was through quickly and Rejji touched the gates to close them.

  “So they were watching the way we came,” Marak stated. “That is not a friendly city to visit. I am glad it is behind us.”

  Mobi led the group along the trail to the same spot they had slept in before entering the city. The group slept for the remainder of the night and proceeded to the Qubari village the next morning.

  The trip from Angragar to the Qubari village was at a more leisurely pace than the sprint Mobi had used to reach the ancient city. For most of the trip, Lord Marak walked alongside Mobi and the native delighted in describing the jungle to the Khadoran. Marak was interested at the vast variety of flora and fascinated by the creatures living in the jungle. At one point, the group stopped to observe a distant Tyrik spinning a web and Rejji related how he had met Mobi.

  “If they could not free themselves,” asked Marak, “how were your men able to separate them from the web?”

  Mobi grinned and pulled a pair of gloves from a pouch on his belt. He handed them to Lord Marak to inspect.

  “The gloves are made from the hairs of the tyrik,” Mobi explained. “It is the same way that the tyrik can move along the web without getting stuck itself. We have boots made from the hairs also. They allow us to climb up the webs.”

  Lord Marak handed the gloves back and they continued the journey. Mobi stopped the group later for a meal break. While they were eating, Mobi stepped off into the bushes and returned with a lygrim fruit.

  “Do not eat any more than a taste,” warned Mobi. “If you do, you will pay for it the next time we stop.”

  Marak bit into the extremely sweet fruit and felt a pulse of energy shoot through him.

  “Too sweet to my liking,” smiled Marak, “but I could feel the energy surge with just a small bite.”

  “I slept for two days after eating one,” chuckled Rejji.

  “This is something I would like to import, Rejji,” stated Lord Marak. “I must remember to ask Dumo if I can have a plant to take with me also.”

  “I have actually thought of several things we can export from the jungle,” declared Rejji. “We will talk about it when we return to Ghala.”

  They finished up the meal and Mobi led them along the trail. Once again, Marak sought to learn as much from Mobi as he could. When they arrived in the village, Mobi took them straight to the courtyard of the long stone building and then went to fetch Chief Dumo. Dumo entered the courtyard along with Yltar.

  “Welcome to the Qubari Jungle, Lord Marak,” greeted Chief Dumo. “You travel in good company.”

  “Thank you, Chief Dumo,” replied Marak. “I am proud to travel with your Astor and your well-trained warrior. Thank you for allowing me access to your homeland.”

  “If your visit pleases the Astor then it pleases all Qubari,” Dumo smiled. “I have asked Shaman Yltar to join us. He has had a message from Ghala for Rejji.”

  “What kind of message?” Rejji asked.

  “Ghala was attacked by the Jiadin yesterday,” informed Yltar. “The town has been destroyed, but no villagers were killed. There were some injuries, but nothing serious. Mistake was concerned that you might run into the army on your return and wanted you to be careful.”

  “Destroyed?” echoed Rejji. “I thought they might attack eventually, but not so soon. How could this happen so suddenly?”

  “She believes there was a traitor in your midst,” continued Yltar. “The braces on the gates were sabotaged and Mistake is sure that the Jiadin knew of this before they attacked.”

  �
�Be thankful that nobody perished in the attack,” comforted Marak. “The buildings are easily replaced, but the people are not. I had wanted to spend some time here, but I think we should return immediately to Ghala. My men can defend the town while it is rebuilt.”

  “If the people can be convinced to rebuild it,” Rejji said sadly.

  “The people I saw in Ghala were hardy and proud,” smiled Lord Marak. “You have accomplished more than just building a town, Rejji. You have instilled a spirit in your people. You will not have to convince them to rebuild. In fact, I am sure the rebuilding will have already started by the time we return. I don’t think you fully understand the impact you have people. Do not sell them short.”

  “Let us have a decent meal before you leave,” suggested Dumo. “It will give us a chance to talk and provide you with the energy for your travels.”

  The Qubari laid out a feast for their visitors and Lord Marak had a chance to learn more about the Qubari people. He bonded well with Dumo and Yltar, as he had with Mobi.

  “Yltar,” asked Lord Marak, “you are the one who Mistake taught the Air Tunnel, correct?”

  “Yes,” nodded the shaman, “it is a wonderful spell and a great gift from your people to ours.”

  “Can you contact Fardale with it?” Marak queried.

  “Oh yes,” Yltar replied. “I have spoken with one of your mages there. That was my final test. Mistake had to make the link the first time, as I have never been there, but I can do it alone now.”

  “Wonderful,” smiled Marak. “I would appreciate it if you would deliver a message for me.”

  “Certainly,” responded Yltar.

  “I would like to have the mage Klora take all communications from Mistake until I return to Khadora,” Lord Marak said. “If you could deliver that message for me and then ask Mistake to check in with Klora several times a day, I would be very grateful.”

  “I will send the message as soon as you leave,” promised Yltar.

  The meal ended and everyone could see that Rejji was anxious to return to Ghala, so the party reassembled and set out for the hike to where the Khadoran squad was camped. Mobi picked up the pace and the group sped silently through the jungle until the sky darkened. Mobi selected a clear area to settle in for the night and woke everyone before sunrise. They continued the fast pace of the day before and reached the edge of the jungle around high sun.

  “This is where I leave you,” Mobi said. “It was a great honor to walk with the Torak and the Astor and I wish you both to return.”

  “I would like that as well,” smiled Lord Marak.

  Rejji and the Khadorans exited the jungle and found Botal’s squad alert and waiting for them. Lord Marak informed the squad of the attack on Ghala and the need to return there quickly. He also warned them of the presence of a Jiadin army in the area. The campsite was cleaned in moments and the squad set out for Ghala. They traveled on into the night, until Botal signaled for a silent halt. Lord Marak and Rejji rode forward until they were alongside Botal. They gazed down into a small valley and saw the men sitting around the campfire. Three wagons sat nearby and Lord Marak peered to see what was inside the wagons.

  “I know that group,” whispered Rejji as he leaned close to Lord Marak. “Those are the slavers that sold me to the Pikata clan.”

  Lord Marak stared at Rejji for a moment and then nodded to him. He raised his hand high and signaled his men with a series of exaggerated gestures. Rejji watched as the men of Botal’s squad started disappearing in different directions. Botal, Lord Marak, and Rejji sat on their horses silently for an hour before Lord Marak spoke.

  “Now we shall visit your former jailers,” Lord Marak stated bitterly. “Ride silently.”

  Lord Marak took the lead and headed straight for the campfire. He rode slowly and as quietly as possible. Rejji followed him and Botal took the rear. They got within five hundred paces before the slavers heard anything. Lord Marak maintained his pace as the slavers jumped to their feet and grabbed their swords.

  “Who approaches the camp?” one of the slavers called out.

  “I am Marak and two riders are with me,” Marak shouted back.

  “What do you want?” the slaver called back. “We have no food to share here.”

  “We do not seek food,” Marak called as he halted one hundred paces away.

  “Well what do you want?” snarled the slaver.

  “I want you to drop your weapons and raise your hands over your head,” called Lord Marak. “Failure to do so will result in one of my men shooting you with an arrow. Your camp is surrounded.”

  The slavers looked suspiciously around the camp and returned to stare at Lord Marak. One of the slavers dropped his sword as his hand reached behind him to snare a throwing dagger from his belt. Marak sat calmly on his horse as the slaver fell face forward to the ground with an arrow protruding from his back.

  “Any more heroes in the campsite?” called Lord Marak. “Drop your weapons now before I exterminate the lot of you.”

  Chapter 30

  Mulando

  The slavers looked nervously around and then threw their swords to the ground. Rejji leaned close to Lord Marak and whispered in his ear.

  “Turn around and face the fire with your hands held high,” Lord Marak ordered.

  As the slavers complied, Lord Marak, Botal, and Rejji dismounted and Botal gathered the reins and held the horses.

  “Mulando,” called Marak, “step backwards ten paces. Do it slowly.”

  “Do I know you?” called Mulando as he cautiously moved backwards.

  Rejji and Marak closed on the head slaver quietly. Lord Marak drew the Sword of Torak and let the blade rest on Mulando’s shoulder. The head slaver twitched involuntarily as his eyes focused on the tip of the sinuous blade. Rejji stooped and reached cautiously around the slaver’s body and yanked the pouch from his belt.

  “You do not know me,” Marak stated as Rejji retrieved a key from the slaver’s pouch. “Instruct your men on their behavior, Mulando, and you shall all live through this encounter. If I wanted you all dead, we would not be talking now.”

  Mulando started to nod his head, but thought better about the excessive movement with the sword still resting on his shoulder. “Listen well to him men. Let them take what they want. I will make up your losses, I swear.”

  Rejji took the key and walked to the closest wagon and peered in. Inside the cage were three old women and two men around ten years older than Rejji. He unlocked the door and let it swing open.

  “Go to the side of the wagon and do not move,” ordered Rejji. “You will be freed shortly.”

  The men helped the women out of the cage and led them to the side of the wagon. They nodded politely to Rejji as they passed, but they still appeared frightened for their lives. Rejji backed away from the wagon on nodded to Lord Marak.

  “Mulando,” Marak stated loudly, “I want your men to enter the cage so my archers can relax their bowstrings. Have them do it now.”

  Mulando shouted orders to his men, but they hesitated in obeying the command. Marak made a signal over his head and a score of arrows whistled through the night air. Some of the slavers screamed; others merely gasped. Thankfully, none of them moved. The arrows thudded into the ground and made a ring around the slavers at their feet.

  “I will not ask again,” shouted Lord Marak. “Get in the cage.”

  The slavers rushed toward the wagon, pushing and shoving to make sure they reached the safety of the cage. Lord Marak withdrew his sword from Mulando’s shoulder and shoved him towards the cage, while Rejji gathered the former captives and led them away from the wagon. Mulando entered the cage and Marak shoved the door closed. Rejji rushed over and locked the cage while Botal’s men walked into the campsite.

  “Now we have one more requirement of you,” declared Lord Marak as Botal’s men surrounded the wagon. “You will carefully toss out of the wagon all of your gold and weapons. Listen carefully because I do not intend to repeat these in
structions. When you have tossed out all of your gold and weapons, I want you to check your neighbor to make sure he did as well as you did. I will be extremely disappointed if I should happen to find even the smallest knife left on one of you. As an incentive to get this right, I will promise not to back this wagon over the campfire if you obey this command properly. So if you happen to know of a favorite boot knife that one of your friends has, make sure he properly disposes of it, because his mistake will mean the end of your life.”

  Pouches and knives were tossed through the bars to land on the dirt. Shouting rose from within the cage, but within a few moments Marak felt assured that no weapons remained on the slavers.

  “Rejji, gather their belongings,” Lord Marak said. “Botal, get the key from Rejji and free the other prisoners.”

  “What are we to do now?” asked one of the men that Rejji had released.

  “You are free to do what you wish,” answered Marak.

  “What were you doing before?” asked Rejji.

  “Well our village was destroyed by bandits,” the man answered. “My friend and I were just traveling. We don’t know what to do now. Our homes are gone and we have nothing.”

  “Do you enjoy traveling?” Rejji asked as he picked up the last of the pouches.

  “Actually, it was thrilling before we were captured,” answered the man. “We had never been out of the village before. I guess I would like to see more of the world before I settle down again.”

  “Then I have a business proposition for you,” smiled Rejji as he piled all of the confiscated pouches on the ground.

  “What is it?” asked the man. “Does it involve traveling? Does it pay?”

  “It involves a great deal of traveling and it pays well,” grinned Rejji. “All of these pouches that are piled here will be your wages.”

  “That is most generous,” beamed the man. “What must we do?”

  “I want you to drive this wagon into Khadora,” chuckled Rejji. “Pick any estate you want and leave the wagon with a note I will give you. You may then take the horses attached to the wagon and go spend your money.”