Richard Tuttle - Web of Deceit

“That was the plan,” conceded the advisor, “but I have developed a better one. I think we can intimidate them into joining you now.”

“How?” questioned the Jiadin leader.

“We will move the bulk of your army into the pyramid,” detailed Veltar. “They will be out of sight there and yet ready to engage the tribes should trouble arise. Another large portion of troops will be on that peninsula,” pointed Veltar. “They will not be seen at ground level, but they will be able to see a flagman situated up here. If we need them, we will have only to signal.”

“Do you think the tribes will arrive with their armies?” asked Grulak.

“What would you do in their position?” Veltar asked.

“I would be cautious,” admitted Grulak. “I would bring my whole army but not display it. Perhaps I would station them along the lake and then proceed here with a smaller guard.”

“Precisely,” grinned Veltar, “except we will be able to detect their troops from up here. If it comes to a battle, we shall have a great advantage with the visibility this temple affords us. Plus, I will arrange for those tribes that are mostly likely to join us to be exactly where we need them.”

“You seem to have thought of everything,” complimented Grulak. “Let it be so then. The couriers shall be sent and the nation of Jiadin shall be formed.”

***

Rejji flew into Wyant and they both tumbled to the floor. Wyant was swift and rolled out from under Rejji and wrapped his arms around the boy’s neck. Rejji was relieved to see no sign of Mistake or the rope as Wyant twisted his head in that direction.

“Are you crazy, lad?” Wyant growled. “What was all that about? I don’t mean you any harm. I thought I heard voices in here and came to check.”

“No harm?” Rejji croaked. “You are breaking my neck.”

Wyant laughed and released Rejji. “Sorry, lad,” he chuckled. “I forgot the last time we met you thought we were trying to kill you. That was just a test to see what you would do. You did well for a lad with no training. Quick thinker you are.”

“A test?” Rejji asked. “Is Brakas dead?”

“No, lad,” Wyant stated. “He will remember the thrashing you gave him though so I would be especially nice to him. I’ve decided to accept you into the Zaldoni on a probationary basis. You have smarts and originality, but you have no skills that I can see. By day you will train with Klavin and by night you will be locked in this room. After a period of time, you will be given a hut to share with somebody, but until we are satisfied that you are what you say you are, that is how it will be. Now come along and I will get you something to eat.”

Rejji rose and followed the leader of the Zaldoni into the predawn night. Already men were starting to move along the pathways as Wyant led Rejji towards the village of huts. Rejji was impressed at the size of the village. He had already passed ten times the number of huts that his village had and there appeared to be no end of them in sight.

In what appeared to be the center of the village, there was a large open area with dozens of campfire rings. Several were already in use and men were waving and calling to Wyant as they entered the square. Wyant appeared to be very popular with his men and there were many invitations to have the morning meal with the warriors. Wyant joked about the men’s cooking and finally sat on a bench near a camp ring that had a large kettle suspended over the fire. Rejji recognized one of the men from the patrol that had captured him.

“Klavin,” Wyant called, “you have a new pupil. His name is Rejji.”

“I don’t cater to training spies,” Klavin growled. “What am I to make out of him?”

“A fine warrior like yourself,” grinned Wyant. “If you are really good at training the lad, I won’t put him in your hut.”

The other men roared with laughter and even Klavin smiled and nodded. “Alright then,” he agreed, “I’ll try to mold a warrior out of the toad, but I ought to be getting double rations for such an impossible chore.”

Wyant slapped Klavin on the back and grabbed a bowl of stew. He introduced Rejji to the men sitting around the kettle and then walked off with his bowl of stew.

Rejji ate silently and listened to the banter of the other men. If the slaughter of his village hadn’t been such a vivid memory, Rejji could almost have felt at home with these bandits. There was a bond amongst them and sitting there as one of them, Rejji almost felt like he was part of a brotherhood of some type. While he couldn’t condone the acts of the bandits, he was finally beginning to understand the allure such groups held for youngsters from the villages.

The morning meal was unhurried and then the group disbanded and went their separate ways. Klavin finally rose and nodded to Rejji.

“Come along then, squire,” he grinned. “It is time to see what you are made of.

Rejji rose and followed Klavin to a large field beyond the stables. He picked up a couple of wooden swords and tossed one to Rejji. Rejji grabbed the sword and stood there holding it with one hand. Klavin scowled and shook his head.

“By the gods, lad,” he growled, “have you no training at all?”

He walked over to Rejji and grabbed Rejji’s free hand and placed it on the hilt.

“Hold the sword with both hands,” he instructed. “It is the only thing between you and death so never let your grip on it go slack. Here hold it like this.”

Klavin always acted like teaching Rejji was a hopeless endeavor, but the giant of a man kept at it. He walked Rejji through a proper posture and ways to block attacks. The whole morning was spent on defensive maneuvering and Rejji was black and blue all over. As soon as Rejji learned to block one stroke, Klavin changed his attack to a different stroke. Rejji was sure the giant was having a great deal of fun bruising him, but he was determined to learn all that he could. Around high sun, they broke for a meal.

As they sat around the same kettle eating the midday meal, Klavin entertained the rest of the men with stories about how hopeless Rejji was. Rejji remained silent and ate his stew. Towards the end of the meal, a slight man came over to Rejji from another group.

“Take off your tunic, lad,” the man said softly.

Rejji looked quizzically at the man, but removed his tunic. The man ran his hands over Rejji’s chest and felt his ribs. He then tilted Rejji’s head back and felt around the boy’s puffed up eye.

“Nothing serious, lad,” the man smiled. “I am called Gregnic, the closest thing to a healer you are likely to find in these parts. Let me put some ointment on that cut over your eye and you will be fine.”

The other men around the kettle started to tease Klavin about not even breaking one of the boy’s ribs as Gregnic applied the ointment. The ointment stung, but Rejji remained silent. He was determined not to let the others know how much he was hurting.

“Thank you.” Rejji said when the healer was done.

“I live in the first hut by the command center,” Gregnic offered. “You might want to stop by after the afternoon session. I will see what I can do to ease the pain. Whatever you do,” he whispered, “don’t get Klavin mad. He’s a killer.”

As Gregnic rose to leave, Klavin called over to Rejji, “Remember his name, lad. You’ll be seeing a lot of him.”

The men around the kettle howled with laughter and Rejji put his tunic back on. He rose and put his bowl on the bench.

“Are we training this afternoon,” he called to Klavin, “or do I know everything already?”

“Why you little pup,” growled Klavin and then he broke out laughing. “So I am not teaching you fast enough, eh? Come along then little warrior and let us have some more fun.”