Richard Tuttle - Web of Deceit

“What is this lost city the stranger was looking for?” quizzed Rejji as he sipped the goat’s milk. “I have never heard of Fakara having any cities.”

“Angragar,” nodded the storyteller. “Well I guess you would not consider it a Fakaran city. Angragar is ancient. It is older than the sacred temple at Vandegar, and both are older than Fakara, much older. Vandegar was a spiritual center, built in the waning days of the old empire. Angragar was the capital city and built much earlier. It was the seat of power for a civilization so ancient that none remember it. Were it not for Vandegar, nobody would believe that Angragar even existed. But it did. There are wall drawings in the Vandegar Temple that depict some of the grand buildings of Angragar.”

“What happened to the ancient civilization?” queried Rejji. “Did it just die out?”

“No,” answered the old storyteller. “Legend has it that an evil ruler came into power and he lusted for conquest. He turned his armies against his old allies and trading partners, the elves.”

“Elves?” squealed one of the children. “I thought there were no elves?”

“There may not be,” continued the storyteller with a smile, “but there was at one time. This ancient ruler was swayed into conflict by the dark forces he swore allegiance to. That is when Vandegar was built, to honor those evil forces. Eventually, the elves had to attack or watch the world be destroyed. The elves swarmed into what is now Fakara and beat back the forces of evil. They destroyed the ancient empire and hid the lost city of Angragar. Nobody has ever found it.”

“You forgot about the caretakers,” nudged one on the old men. “Tell them about the guardians.”

“Very well,” nodded the storyteller. “The elves were to destroy the ancient civilization completely, but they found just a few people who were so good, that the evil had not touched them. They chose these people to be guardians of Angragar. It is their job to make sure nobody ever does find the ancient city. Legend says these ancient dwellers still watch over Angragar and will until the end of time. Should anyone stumble upon the lost city, the guardians will destroy them.”

Bakhai was still trying to get Rejji’s attention and Rejji finally thought he had figured out why. He sipped the last bit of goat’s milk out of the cup, realizing that there was only one cup and he had been holding it the whole time. The woman smiled at him and reached across the children to retrieve the cup. The distance was a bit too far and Rejji placed the cup in his palm and stretched his arm over the heads of the children. The woman took the cup from his hand.

As Rejji watched, the woman screamed and dropped the urn of goat’s milk. The urn shattered spilling milk over the children. Everyone jumped to their feet to see what the trouble was. Bakhai was frantically waving now and Rejji’s attention was torn between Bakhai and the turmoil with the woman, when he heard someone shout, “Demon!”

Everyone started running in every direction and Bakhai grabbed Rejji’s arm and started pulling him.

“Come! Hurry!” shouted Bakhai. “We must run for our lives.”

Rejji was still trying to figure out what was happening when the first rock struck his back.

The sting of the rock propelled Rejji faster as he raced out of the village. Mistake appeared alongside him and started to pull one of her daggers out if its sheath.

“No,” shouted Rejji. “Just keep running.”

Eventually, the din of the crowd chasing them tapered off and Rejji stopped to catch his breath. He bent over with his hands braced on top of his knees and looked at his friends as he panted. Slowly, he caught his breath and turned to gaze back towards the village.

“What was all that about?” he asked.

“I tried to warn you,” Bakhai said. “The Jiadin were here this morning. They are searching for a demon.”

“I know that,” interrupted Rejji, “but what does that have to do with the village turning violent all of a sudden. Do they think we are spies for the Jiadin?”

Bakhai reached over and grabbed Rejji’s arm and twisted it so his palm faced upward. “The Jiadin told them that the demon carries a crescent on his palm,” explained Bakhai. “The old woman saw your mark. The Jiadin promised to kill them all if they harbored you.”

Rejji’s mouth hung open as he stared at his palm and then looked back at the village. “They can’t possibly think I am a demon,” he said shaking his head. “Do I look like a demon?”

“Actually, you do,” offered Bakhai. “They were told that the demon masqueraded as a young man, but the crescent palm would always give him away. One of the farmers made me show him my palms before he would talk to me. The villagers are scared, Rejji. The army that was here today was not a small raiding party like they are used to seeing. It was hundreds of riders. Don’t blame the villagers for wanting to live.”

“I don’t,” sighed Rejji. “I just didn’t understand what was going on. They were very generous people. I do not want them harmed. We should leave this area now in case the Jiadin return.”

“And go where?” questioned Mistake. “I found out nothing about the Sage. The women told me to go to the well and when I got there, you had the elders occupied with children’s tales.”

“Only because I had already found out about the Sage,” grinned Rejji. “We are headed for the Bone Mountains, like Brakas said. The storyteller couldn’t be more precise, but at least we know where to start looking.”

Mistake pulled out the map she had taken from the Chadang tent and spread it on the ground. “Here they are,” she said, pointing to the mountains in the northeast. “Just on the other side of this green area. It will be a long walk, but we can do it.”

“That green area is the jungle,” frowned Rejji. “We are not going through that. The elders warned me about it and said not to enter it.”

“I caught that part of the story,” nodded Bakhai. “Not the type of place you want to walk through, never mind sleeping in there.”

“All right,” conceded Mistake, “then we go around it. Can’t take that much longer.”

“The first thing we need to do is put some distance between us and that village,” Rejji stated. “They will tell the Jiadin which way we went if they return, so let them see us going east. When we can’t see the village any more, we will turn north. With any luck, the Jiadin will go into the jungle to look for us.”

“Is that bad?” asked Mistake.

“No,” chuckled Rejji. “It would be good. The elders said nobody has ever gone in there and returned.”

They headed east for over an hour before turning north. After two hours on their northward trek, the sun sipped below the Giaming Mountains and Rejji selected a spot near a creek to camp. It was Rejji’s turn to prepare the meal, but they had nothing to prepare. Bakhai offered to go find something and disappeared into the trees. Mistake pulled out the map again as Rejji gathered some deadwood for the fire. By the time Rejji had a decent fire going, Bakhai returned with a quail.

“It is not much,” Bakhai offered, “but it was the best I could do.”

He handed the quail to Rejji and sat next to Mistake and stared at the map. “Show me where we are going,” he said.

Bakhai’s face grew dark as Mistake traced the path they were to take.

“We may not want to go that way,” he said.

“Why not?” asked Mistake. “That is how we have to go.”

“There are tracks on the other side of the creek,” explained Bakhai. “Lots of tracks. The army hunting for Rejji went up that way several hours ago.”