Web of Deceit fl-3

by Richard S. Tuttle

  They rounded a bend at full speed and slammed into an invisible wall. The collision bounced them back, but strangely, they did not fall. Instead they sort of swayed like a tall tree in a high wind. Rejji tried to shake his head, but it wouldn’t move. He tried to remove his arm from Bakhai, but it refused to yield to his demands. His feet likewise would not obey the commands his mind was sending them. His vision swirled and stars winked on and off. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to relax his mind. He opened his eyes and saw the trail ahead of him, but also sensed something closer. His eyes finally focused on the invisible wall and he gasped in horror.

  “Mistake,” he shouted urgently, “can you get free? Can you reach your daggers?”

  “No,” cried Mistake. “I can’t move. I can’t move at all.”

  “What is it?” murmured Bakhai. “I can’t see it and I can’t move.”

  “We are stuck, quivered Rejji. “We have been captured in a tyrik’s web.”

  Chapter 18

  Qubari

  “Keep trying, Mistake,” shouted Rejji. “If you can reach one of your daggers, you might be able to cut us free from this tyrik’s web.”

  “No,” gasped Bakhai. “Stop. If it is like a spider, it reacts to vibrations. If you struggle it will come to us and we don’t want that until I can figure out how to communicate with it.”

  “Can you communicate with it?” ask Rejji.

  “I don’t know,” admitted Bakhai. “Spiders have a crude sense of communications. Mostly they sense vibrations, but I think that includes air vibrations, which might work like speech. I tried imitating their clicks one time and thought I was getting through, but I couldn’t be sure. They have a short attention span. A better approach might be to make it think we are one of its predators.”

  “So it will stay away?” queried Mistake.

  “Yes, at least until we can figure a way out of this,” answered Bakhai.

  “Try communicating with it first,” reasoned Rejji. “I don’t see how we will get free even if it leaves, so I think we will need its help. If that doesn’t work then imitate its enemy.”

  “That is reasonable,” agreed Bakhai.

  Rejji listened intently as Bakhai made a series of clicks with his mouth. He felt the web moving above him and sweat formed on his brow as he wondered if Bakhai was making the right sounds to speak to the tyrik or merely drawing attention to themselves. Suddenly, sounds of movement came from behind the Fakarans. Rejji fought the natural instinct to turn his head, as he knew it would just create vibrations in the web and would not enable him to see anyway. Still, he prepared himself for the jaws he knew were behind him.

  “Maybe you should try the predator,” he said softly. “I think one is coming up behind us.”

  “I think I am getting through,” whispered Bakhai. “I am not sure. but let me try a bit longer.”

  Bakhai started making clicks again and Mistake screamed as the web surged like an ocean wave. Rejji heard clicks similar to Bakhai’s coming from above his head as the web swayed with the movement of something very large. More clicks came from behind the Fakarans and Rejji closed his eyes as he thought about the painful death the trolls had described. He could picture the two tyriks closing in on them, one from above and one from behind. His body started shaking uncontrollably and he bit his lip helplessly.

  Rejji screamed as he felt the first touch from behind him as the thing seized his arms. He heard a hysterical scream from Mistake and a groan from Bakhai. Something tore his sword out of its sheath and his teeth drew blood from his lower lip as his body shuddered uncontrollably. He felt things roaming all over his body, from his feet to his head. The next instant, he was pulled back and felt his head moved freely. His arms were held fast from behind, but he could now see the web a pace in front of him.

  “Do not seek to fight us or we will leave you to the tyriks,” a deep voice said from behind him.

  Rejji almost swooned at the sound of a human voice, as his body fell limp and was only supported by whoever was holding him. His head spun for a moment and he exhaled a long held breath in a sigh. Slowly his body stopped quaking, although tremors still raced through it. It seemed like a great effort for Rejji to turn his head, but he saw that Bakhai and Mistake were still beside him and he could see hands holding them up, human hands. He tried to move and realized that his legs were like rubber, incapable of supporting his body.

  The people holding the Fakarans dragged them several dozen paces away from the web and Rejji tried to focus on the sticky trap that had snared them. It was monstrous in size and Rejji could not see the top of it, but he saw part of the massive tyrik that called it home. The people who had dragged them away from the web gently lowered the Fakarans to the trail and Rejji stared upwards at them. He was somewhat relieved to see that they were human. In fact, they looked little different than any other person, except they were dressed only in loincloths and carried spears.

  He watched as two men reached down and lifted Bakhai, who appeared to be unconscious. The men carried Bakhai and disappeared down the trail. Rejji tried to rise and object, but his muscles refused to obey and one of the men held a spear to Rejji’s chest and shook his head. One of the jungle dwellers approached Rejji and stared down at him. He was taller than the others and appeared to be dwelling on some issue as he gazed at Rejji.

  “I am Mobi,” the man said. “You two will be coming to our village. If you try to fight, you will be killed. If you try to flee, you will be killed. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” Rejji and Mistake said in unison.

  “What have you done with Bakhai?” continued Rejji. “He is not well.”

  “You will not speak unless told to,” Mobi commanded. “Stand up.”

  Rejji tested his rubber legs and found them capable of standing. He rose and extended a hand to Mistake to help her rise. Both of the Fakarans were wobbly on their feet and the group of jungle dwellers stood and stared at them.

  “Follow,” Mobi said bluntly as he turned to follow the path Bakhai had disappeared down.

  Rejji took Mistake’s hand and they followed Mobi. The rest of the jungle dwellers fell in behind the Fakarans. Mobi walked slowly at first, constantly looking over his shoulder at the Fakarans. When Rejji’s legs felt stronger and less wobbly, Mobi increased his speed as if he had sensed the Fakarans’ regenerated use of their limbs. Gradually, Mobi increased speed until the group was moving at a rather swift pace down the trail. The jungle darkened as night claimed the land, but the group continued walking. They walked for hours and Rejji felt the weariness of the day setting in as his feet scuffed along the trail. Mistake almost tripped twice, but Rejji had been able to help her keep her balance. Finally, Rejji’s arm tugged as Mistake halted in the trail.

  “I cannot continue,” she complained. “I need rest.”

  Rejji turned his head and saw that the group following them had spread across the trail and had their spears lowered. Mobi stopped and returned to stare at Mistake.

  “Why do you stop?” frowned Mobi.

  “We have traveled far this day,” answered Rejji. “Our bodies have no more to give. We stumble and will fall soon. We need rest.”

  “There is no resting here,” scowled Mobi as he waved forward one of the rear guards. “Lygrim quickly,” he ordered.

  The jungle warrior nodded and dashed into the foliage as Mobi scanned the towering trees around the party. Within moments, the jungle warrior returned with two large purple fruits and handed one to each of the Fakarans.

  “Eat this,” ordered Mobi as the warrior returned to the rear of the procession. “It will give you energy to walk. We must continue.”

  Mobi turned and started walking slowly as Rejji bit into the fruit. It was very moist and almost sickeningly sweet, but Rejji felt the energy pulse though his body. He took Mistake’s hand and started walking after Mobi as he ate more of the fruit. Rejji felt surprisingly stronger with each bite and again Mobi picked up the pace as if being able to sense
the new strength of his captives.

  It was almost morning when they came to a deep river gorge. They followed the gorge downstream for an hour until they came to a long, narrow bridge over the gorge. Mobi turned and separated Rejji’s hand from Mistake’s. He then started across the narrow bridge. Rejji let Mistake go first and then stepped onto the wooden slats. There were two ropes strung for handholds and Rejji kept his hands on them at all times. The bridge swayed with each step and when he was out over the water, Rejji looked down. He felt queasiness in his stomach as he saw the churning water far below him racing towards the waterfall off to his right. A mist rose from the waterfall and towered almost to the height of the bridge. Rejji could see the early rays of the sun trying to penetrate the mist.

  Rejji tore his eyes from the view below and focused on the narrow wooden slats as he continued across the bridge. He felt exhilaration as he stepped off the bridge and felt solid ground under his feet again. Mobi halted a little ways beyond the bridge to allow the rest of the party to catch up. Rejji was scanning the jungle while they waited and his eyes locked on a towering pyramid through the trees. Before he could dwell on it, Mobi started walking again and Rejji followed.

  The trail wound through the jungle for a few minutes and then they emerged into a village. People lined the streets and stared as Rejji and Mistake passed by. Mobi led the procession down the long street and into a massive, cultivated square with flowerbeds and paths and stately trees. Across the square, the street continued as far as Rejji could see. To the right of the square was the large pyramid that Rejji had seen through the trees, but Mobi turned to the left. They headed towards the long stone building that occupied the fourth side of the square. The stone building stood out from the surrounding wooden homes and Mobi marched them up the steps to a large wooden door and they entered the building.

  Mobi led them down a long hall and then turned at an intersecting hallway that was lined with doors. He stopped a third of the way down the hallway and two of the men behind Rejji stepped forward and opened two doors, one on each side of the hallway.

  Mobi spread his arms wide and said, “Rest here. You will be summoned later.”

  Mistake took the room on the left and Rejji the one on the right. The door was closed as soon as Rejji stepped into the room. The room was small and had a cot, a basin and a chamber pot. Rejji heard the sound of a bolt from the door and knew he had just entered a cell. There was no window and no candle and when the door closed, Rejji had only a mental image of where things were. He walked cautiously in the dark towards the cot and lowered himself onto it. Almost immediately, he felt the energy drain from his body and he drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  Bakhai opened his eyes and looked up into the face of a man wearing a headdress with curved horns protruding out the sides. The man had a ring in each ear and each flaring nostril and piercing blue eyes.

  “How do you feel?” the man inquired.

  “I am not sure,” Bakhai said. “I feel no pain.”

  “And you won’t,” assured the man. “I am Yltar, head shaman of the Qubari. You were severally poisoned by the paran bites. You are lucky to be alive. Who are you?”

  “I am Bakhai,” the patient answered.

  “And who is Bakhai?” questioned the shaman. “Where are you from? Who are your parents?”

  “I do not know,” frowned Bakhai. “I have never known any parents. The animals of the Giaming raised me. That is all I know.”

  “Sit up,” ordered Yltar as he walked to a table and retrieved a bowl. He brought the bowl back and handed it to Bakhai. “Eat it,” he instructed. “It will help restore your strength.”

  Bakhai sat up and accepted the bowl. He gazed at his hand, which was heavily bandaged in some type of white silk.

  “Your hand will be as new in one turn of the sun,” smiled Yltar. “Do not for any reason remove the bandage before that time. Why are you and your people here in the Qubari Jungle?”

  “We are heading to the Bone Mountains,” Bakhai explained. “We mean you no harm if that is the concern. Are Rejji and Mistake all right?”

  “They are well for now,” Yltar stated. “The Qubari Jungle is forbidden to invaders. The penalty for trespass is death.”

  “We are not invaders,” frowned Bakhai. “We seek merely to pass through the jungle, nothing more.”

  “Perhaps,” murmured the shaman. “Why did you not just go around as others have done for ages?”

  “We could not,” explained Bakhai. “We were being chased by an army of Jiadin warriors. They would kill us if they caught us. The villagers warned us not to enter the jungle, but we really had no choice. We planned to stay just on the edge of the jungle, but we lost our way. We mean you no harm. If you will allow us to leave, we shall do so by the shortest route.”

  “Things are not that simple,” sighed Yltar. “Secrecy is essential to our purpose in life. You have broken that veil of secrecy so this has become a matter for the council.”

  “We will promise not to tell anyone,” offered Bakhai.

  “I am sure you would,” chuckled the shaman. “It would be a rare man who would not make such an offer. You were taken from the web of a tyrik. Do you remember that?”

  “Yes,” replied Bakhai. “Even though I was in a weakened state, it is something I shall never forget, no matter how hard I try.”

  “I do not doubt that either,” nodded Yltar. “What were you trying to do before you were rescued?”

  “Well we tried to get free of course, but that was useless,” responded Bakhai.

  “Is that all?” interrogated the shaman. “Think carefully on your answer as I expect you to be totally truthful to me.”

  Bakhai had always avoided any mention of his skills since he had found out how the villagers thought him possessed or evil when they discovered he could talk to animals. He looked into the shaman’s eyes and knew that if he lied he would be detected and they would never take his vow of secrecy seriously. That would mean they would not be allowed to leave the jungle alive.

  “I tried talking to the tyrik,” admitted Bakhai. “I have never known a tyrik before, but I had to try something. If that failed I would try to imitate one of its predators.”

  “What makes you think you could talk to a tyrik?” the shaman pressed.

  “I grew up with animals,” stated Bakhai. “I have learned to talk their languages. Had it been an animal I was familiar with, I am sure I would have succeeded, but I have never seen a tyrik before.”

  The shaman scratched his neck and paced around the room for some moments before returning to Bakhai.

  “People do not learn to speak to animals just by being around them, Bakhai,” the shaman declared. “To be a talker is a gift, a talent that must be discovered and developed. It is only carried in certain bloodlines and all of those bloodlines are Qubari.”

  “That can’t be so,” argued Bakhai. “I am not Qubari and have never been here in my life, yet I can talk to the animals. It must be something I learned from growing up with them.”

  “Really?” queried Yltar. “Would you be surprised to know that the tyrik understood you? A species you have never see before in your life. The tyrik was about to cut you loose. The Qubari that were there had to rescind your request, because the tyrik would probably have killed you in the process of freeing you. Tyriks are not particularly gentle when they pry things off their web.”

  “Why did they save us?” asked Bakhai. “From what you have told me, you are not going to let us go anyway. Wouldn’t it have been easier for them to just let us die there?”

  “Very much so,” Yltar said. “Except they recognized you as a talker. They could not allow a talker to die, as all talkers are Qubari.”

  “I am confused,” admitted Bakhai.

  “I understand your confusion,” smiled Yltar. “You parents, Bakhai, were Qubari. What happened to them, I do not know, but I can guess that they died in those mountains you call home, and you didn’t die. Even mor
e interesting is your development of the talent. Here talkers must undergo a ceremony to unlock their talent. Only the most talented have ever talked before the ceremony. You are a rare individual Bakhai. Welcome home.”

  “You mean I am not to die?” asked Bakhai.

  “You still must go before the council for judgment,” declared the shaman, “but I am sure you will be fine. There are some here who will greatly welcome your coming home.”

  “What of my friends?” questioned Bakhai. “Mistake and Rejji are dear to me. Will they be allowed to go free?”

  “That is for the council to decide,” replied Yltar. “I would not get your hopes up for your friends. Trespassing is the most serious of offenses. Get some rest so you are refreshed when you are brought before the council.”

  Bakhai waited for the shaman to leave and then reclined and closed his eyes. The shaman’s revelations whirled through his mind, but exhaustion claimed him quickly and he fell asleep.

  Noise awakened Bakhai and he bolted upright.

  “I am sorry to disturb your rest,” smiled Mobi, “but the council awaits you. Make yourself ready and I will return shortly.”

  Bakhai nodded and stretched. He washed in the basin and looked out the window. He shook his head as he saw the first rays of the sun shining around the pyramid. The door opened and Mobi walked in.

  “How can the sun be rising?” Bakhai asked. “It was higher in the sky when I went to sleep.”

  “You and you friends have slept all day and all night,” grinned Mobi. “You because of your treatment for the paran poison and your friends because of the lygrim fruit they required to reach here. You should be well rested. Come, the council waits.”

  Mobi led Bakhai through the building to an open courtyard in its center. At one end of the courtyard was a long table and four elderly men sat behind it. Bakhai recognized Yltar as one of the men. In front of the table were three chairs. Rejji and Mistake sat in two of the chairs and Bakhai was instructed to sit in the third. As soon as Bakhai sat, the man sitting next to the shaman stood.