Web of Deceit fl-3

by Richard S. Tuttle

  Rejji shouted as he opened the door and Marak signaled his men to fall back as he continued to slice through the hellsouls. As soon as he felt his men pass him, Marak turned and ran. They dashed through the door and Rejji slammed it closed.

  “Anybody get cut?” questioned Mobi.

  They all shook their heads.

  “Wasn’t that a little risky?” questioned Rejji. “We could have been trapped in that block.”

  “Not as risky as you think,” answered Lord Marak. “Their swords are a lot shorter than ours. They could not cut us unless we made a mistake.”

  “They are also slower,” added Gunta. “And now they are about fifty fewer in number.”

  “At least fifty,” Mobi grinned. “And they are afraid of us now. I like that feeling much better than last time. Dumo will like you Khadorans.”

  “If the other Qubari fight as you do, Mobi,” smiled Marak, “Dumo is a fortunate chief indeed. Let’s rest a minute before we go to the mural.”

  “Did you scream to scare them?” asked Rejji.

  “The screaming by itself would not scare them,” explained Halman. “It breaks their concentration and causes hesitation if they are not expecting it. When put together with a change in posture, such as us advancing rather than defending, it can cause great uncertainty.”

  “And being uncertain is not the best feeling in a pitched battle,” added Gunta. “They fled back to the square where they were more comfortable, but that in itself gives them a new feeling of being defensive rather than aggressive.”

  “They are not so afraid that they will not attack us again,” interjected Lord Marak. “It is just enough to make them wary. What we must avoid is allowing them to surround us. That is why I stopped mid-block so they only had two approaches to us. If they had had four, we would have been in serious trouble.”

  “Will we do the same thing to get out of the city?” asked Rejji.

  “No,” answered Marak. “Always do the unexpected. I think we shall try to sneak out at night.”

  “They will be hard to see in the night,” protested Mobi as he lit a torch.

  “So will we,” smiled Marak. “And the Sword of Torak does warn of their close presence as the staff does. Let’s worry about our departure when the time comes. I am ready to see the mural.”

  Rejji led the group past the stairs and through the large room with the altar. He opened the door at the end of the hallway and went to the far end of the long table. Mobi caught up to the group and raised a torch high above his head. Lord Marak stood staring at the mural for a few minutes.

  “That is Lyra, the Star of Sakova,” declared Lord Marak.

  “You know her?” quizzed Rejji.

  “Yes,” nodded Marak. “She is around our age and leads the Sakovan people, far south of Fardale. I visited with her not long ago. This makes me more curious than ever. It indicates that our three lives are intertwined in one fate. Mobi, what is the name of your god?”

  “Kaltara,” Mobi answered. “Have you heard of him?”

  “Indeed I have,” nodded Lord Marak. “Kaltara is the god of the Sakovans.”

  “So we have Lord Marak flanked by two people who have been chosen by this god, Kaltara,” posed Gunta, “yet in Khadora we have many gods and don’t take any seriously. This does not make sense.”

  “Perhaps,” murmured Lord Marak as he wondered what god the Chula worshipped.

  Very few people knew that Lord Marak was actually half Chula, and none of them were in the room. As he rolled the riddle around in his mind, Marak was struck by the fact that Lyra was only half Sakovan and had never heard of Kaltara before entering the Sakova. He had recently been told that Rejji was half Qubari and also had never heard of Kaltara. He mentally nodded at the strange parallels developing.

  “Gunta,” ordered Marak, “check out this entire building for exits and I don’t mean street level doors. Halman, search for rope, lots of it. We will be leaving tonight via an unorthodox exit and then sneaking out of the city, hopefully undetected. The rest of us will be in the library. Join us when you are done.”

  The two Khadoran shadows left the room and Lord Marak nodded to Rejji that he was ready to leave. Rejji led the way back to the entrance hall and turned left towards the library. The volume of books and scrolls present in the library stunned Lord Marak. He walked around the room, inspecting the shelves of books and settled on the floor near the only shelf that was not entirely filled, figuring that the shelf would be the most current works.

  “I will start here,” announced Marak. “If you find anything about Sakova, or Star of Sakova, or Torak, or Astor, shout.”

  Rejji and Mobi split up and started going through the books. After a while, Gunta and Halman arrived and Lord Marak instructed them on what to search for. They searched for hours and hours and grew tired and frustrated, as they could find no mention of any of the terms. The search extended into the night and finally Mobi called them all together.

  “I have found a scroll that mentions you,” Mobi stated.

  “Read it to us,” requested Rejji.

  Mobi nodded, “The great evil, having been cast out of the land, shall seek to return and destroy all that is good. Persistently, it will seek out the weak and the strong until it finds the perfect host. It will devour this host and empower it to deceive and destroy. This host will rise in the form of a man and seek to take power from those Kaltara has appointed. The good and the holy will renounce this man and throw him out of the kingdom and consider the matter completed, but that will be the beginning of turmoil. For this great evil will rise and deceive allies to wage war on one another. He will raise himself above men and declare that he is god. Great multitudes will waver in their faith and follow the evil, and they shall build a great temple unto this false god and they shall declare the evil the highest god of all.”

  Seeing the Mobi was having a hard time reading and holding the torch, Gunta took the torch from Mobi’s hand and held it aloft for him.

  “Kaltara will become angered and strike out at the multitudes. He will rent the earth and cause the sea to swallow the faithless. Kaltara will scatter the survivors to the far shores of the world and rebuke them to return to the faith, but the great evil will resist. He will find a new home and flourish once again. The people of this new home will flee in desperation and burn their ships and sear their minds to eliminate their return and their fears. The great evil will devour all that exists in his home and yearn for more. Eventually, the magics used to sear the minds will fail because of intermarriage and the evil will be summoned once again. This will be known as the Time of Calling.”

  “Time of Calling?” interrupted Rejji.

  Mobi nodded and continued, “In the Time of Calling, Kaltara will send forth the Torak and the Star and the Astor and they shall gather the faithful and the faithless as one to stand against the evil. When the evil arrives, the Time of Cleansing begins. The great evil will battle Kaltara’s trio unto the death. Ask me not of the outcome, for this was the end of my vision.”

  “So this was the recording of somebody’s vision,” concluded Lord Marak. “And the mural was probably a depiction of what he saw, but what is this great evil?”

  “From the reading, I suspect the great evil was embodied in Vand,” responded Mobi. “He was a man who declared himself god thousands of years ago in the time when Angragar was a great city. He built Vandegar Temple as a monument to himself. Legend says that the plains of Vandegar were split in two and one half was swallowed by the sea when he defied God.”

  “And what Dumo calls the invaders,” interjected Rejji, “were really the people fleeing from wherever Vand went?”

  “I believe so,” nodded Mobi.

  “What of the searing of their minds?” asked Marak. “And the part about intermarriage calling the evil?”

  “I can only guess,” offered Mobi. “Yltar may be able to decipher it better, but I think they may have used magic to forget where they came from, and the magic might be c
ountered by intermarriage.”

  “So the invaders tried to kill all of the indigenous peoples,” added Lord Marak. “No intermarriages and they would be safe, but does that mean someone like Rejji being a half-breed would call this evil?”

  “I do not think Rejji is at fault for this,” Mobi said. “Grulak may be though. He is also a half-breed and has made Vandegar Temple his home. He is rumored to be crazy as well. Also, the vision showed the three of you coming during the Time of Calling, which means the one to start it had to come before you.”

  “Sounds to me like this Grulak must die quickly,” interjected Halman. “Perhaps the Time of Calling will end with his death.”

  “With a Jiadin army of tens of thousands,” frowned Mobi, “I think keeping the Astor alive is a more immediate task than killing Grulak. We need time to prepare for this evil whatever it is.”

  “And time is something we are always short on,” nodded Marak. “Take the scroll and let us get out of this city while it is still dark. Have you found our exit, Gunta?”

  “Second story at the back is another balcony,” Gunta declared. “We will be two blocks away from where they think we are. Hundreds were gathered in the square when I last looked so there cannot be many in the other parts of the city. If we are stealthy, we will reach the gates undetected.”

  “Let’s go then,” decided Lord Marak.

  Chapter 29

  Attack

  Mistake whistled as she skipped across the dew-laden grass. She scrambled up the tree, pausing to look at the large orb of the sun as it crept over the horizon. She squinted as the red flare reflected off the ocean swells. Grinning mischievously, she scampered higher to where Bakhai had stored the large sack of gold. She untied the drawstring of the large sack and thrust her hand into the gold, luxuriating in its feel. She scooped a large handful of the gold and let it slide into her small, empty pouch. Her mind lingered on an image of the quilt she had seen one of the villagers selling yesterday and her hand scooped into the gold again. She started whistling again as she drew the drawstring tight and tied the small pouch to her belt. A bird darted towards the branch she was on and Mistake’s eyes followed it as it flew away.

  Her whistling stopped abruptly and she held her breath as she saw the approaching army in the distance. She peered at the army for a moment and then swiftly scampered down the tree. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her as she darted through the gate in the stockade wall. She shouted an alarm as she entered Ghala and then slammed the gate shut. Two villagers appeared by her side and hoisted the bar into position to lock the gates.

  “Get everyone into the boats,” she yelled. “Do it now.”

  Her warning was echoed through the town all the way to the beach as others spread the word. The villagers began running. Tools were dropped on the ground and tables were overturned as families rushed towards the boats along the river. Bakhai raced to the corral and threw open the gate. Inhuman sounds emanated from his throat as he instructed the horses to seek safety in the clova pens. He turned and raced to the river dock and untied the stern line of the ship docked there. He ran to the bowline and waited impatiently as women lifted their children aboard Lord Marak’s ship.

  Mistake raced to her hut and strapped on her belt that contained a multitude of knives. She grabbed Bakhai’s bow and quiver and dashed back towards the stockade wall.

  Riktor stood on the riverbank helping people into the small fishing vessels and shoving them off into the flow of the Ghala River. He helped old man Copi into a boat and turned to see Plesy staring at the gates.

  “Come on, Father,” Riktor said impatiently, “into the boat.”

  “I cannot abandon the town,” Plesy said stubbornly. “It has been my home forever and the young men defending it may need my help.”

  Riktor shook his head and lifted the old man off the ground. He marched into the cold water and deposited Plesy into the boat.

  “The families out in the sea will need your guidance more,” scolded Riktor as he pushed the boat into the flow of the river. “Keep them out of bow range and keep them from getting too scared.”

  Riktor waded out of the river and picked up his bow. He turned and ran for the stockade wall.

  Karlo furiously hammered long nails through the thin strips of lumber. He took a finished strip and handed it to Lakado, a recent arrival to Ghala.

  “Put this on the path to the warehouse,” Karlo instructed Lakado. “Make sure the nails stick up. Return quickly and I will have more for you to place on the path.”

  Pfifer, a trapper who had recently moved to Ghala, dragged tables and chairs into the street between the huts. He laid the obstacles in rows and then placed and armed his animal traps behind each row of furniture.

  Bakhai raced to the stockade and slid to a halt next to Mistake.

  “Who is it?” he asked. “What did you see?”

  “It is the Jiadin,” Riktor called down from the platform that ran along the wall. “They are building a fire just outside our bow range.”

  Bakhai’s eyes swept over the two-dozen men manning the platform as he asked, “How many of them?”

  “Over a hundred,” one of the villagers shouted. “We may whittle that down quite a bit when they try to attack this wall.”

  “Okay,” shouted Bakhai, “but remember, as soon as they breech the wall, head for the boats. We can replace the town, but we do not want to have to replace you men. You all have families out at sea depending on you surviving.”

  Mistake handed Bakhai his bow and quiver as she spoke softly, “There is a shed over by the river. You can use that for cover when they break through. I will be behind that large tree in the other direction. Between us, we can whittle them down some more. If the traps work, we may just defeat them all.”

  “Providing our archers can get most of them before they break through the wall,” frowned Bakhai. “A hundred men is a bit larger than we had planned on. At least we can provide cover for the men as they run to the waiting boats.”

  “The wall is strong,” smiled Mistake. “Even if they try to burn it, it will take some time and the men have buckets of water ready for that.”

  “Shouldn’t I lend my bow to the men on the wall?” questioned Bakhai.

  “No, answered Mistake. “You will need your arrows to protect the retreat of our men. Go get in position. I will climb the tree I will be using for cover and alert you to what is happening with an Air Tunnel.”

  Bakhai nodded and sprinted for the old shack on the river side of the town. Mistake turned and ran to the large tree on the forest side of town. She climbed the tree and gazed at the Jiadin army. The Jiadin had built a large fire and were lighting torches. She frowned as she thought of them riding up to the wall under a hail of arrows to try to burn the stockade. It did not seem to be an intelligent tactic for them to use. Her mind raced with thoughts as she tried to figure out what they were going to do with the torches, when suddenly she remembered the remains of Rejji’s village.

  The Jiadin had burned every single building in Rejji’s town and it appeared that they were preparing to do the same here. Still, it made no sense to carry the torches when they hadn’t broken through the wall yet. As she was trying to figure out their strategy, two Jiadin riders appeared carrying long poles. Mistake shook her head in disbelief at the thought of the gates giving way to such a feeble attack as being rammed by poles carried by riders. Even as she shook her head, the two riders turned and charged the wall as battle cries rippled through the Jiadin ranks. The Jiadin immediately formed a column and raced after the lead riders.

  Arrows flew from the defenders as the Jiadin charged, but the charge was so swift and sudden that many arrows failed to fell the riders. The two poles slammed into the gates and the doors flung open, throwing the locking bar and braces towards the village. The lead Jiadin streamed into the town and raced towards the line of huts, carrying their torches high. The defenders rained arrows down on the horsemen, but some of the Jiadin swerved onc
e through the gates and began climbing the ladders to attack the bowmen. The defenders on the river side of the gates abandoned their positions and hurried to the waiting boats as they had been ordered to do.

  Bakhai leaned out of the shed and began to fire his arrows to cover their escape. The defenders on the forest side were blocked from escaping by the steady stream of riders coming through the gates. Mistake jumped down from her tree and pulled a dagger with each hand. She raced towards the trapped defenders and threw a dagger into the back of a Jiadin climbing the ladder.

  “To the forest,” she yelled loudly. “Run to the forest and hide.”

  Her dagger caught the next Jiadin as he leaped from his horse to the ladder. The defenders ran to the end of the platform and jumped to the ground. Mistake killed two more Jiadin as she watched the trapped defenders run into the dense forest. She caught the scent of smoke in the air and turned to see the first huts going up in flames. She peered through the parade of Jiadin raiders and saw Bakhai firing arrow after arrow as the villagers behind him piled into the boats. She also saw two Jiadin riders converging on him from the direction of the town and knew that Bakhai would never see them coming.

  Mistake filled her hands with daggers again and raced forward. She ran towards the steady stream of Jiadin warriors entering through the gates. She tried screaming a warning to Bakhai, but she knew her voice would not penetrate the roar of the pounding hoofs and the battle cries of the Jiadin. Without stopping, she hurled both daggers at the pair of Jiadin just coming through the gates and then ran into the path of their horses. One of the horses reared when its rider fell, but the other kept charging forward. Mistake threw her body forward in a dive between the horse’s legs. She felt the impact on her foot as the horse clipped her, but she managed to roll her body into a ball as she landed on the other side of the horse.

  Mistake rolled to her feet and continued the race towards Bakhai. She grabbed two more daggers as she ran and screamed as she saw the first rider approaching Bakhai raise his sword. She hurled a dagger as she sped towards her friend, knowing the distance was still too great for her dagger to be effective. The dagger hit the horse hilt first, but the horse reared and the Jiadin fought to control his beast. Bakhai, alerted to the danger, dove out of the shack and brought his bow up. Mistake, still charging the shack, hurled another dagger at the rider and caught him in the cheek. Bakhai sent an arrow into the second rider and the Jiadin tumbled from his horse.