Richard Tuttle - Web of Deceit

Brakas eyed the unfinished stockade wall as he approached the town. A dozen men were sawing lumber, erecting vertical beams, and nailing them to the crossbeams. He rode through the large hole in the wall, which was reserved for the future gates. Brakas gazed around the town in wonder. The last time he had been here, this place was a little sleepy fishing village. Now there was construction everywhere. The new huts were obvious with their walls yet to be weathered. Off to the side of the huts was a large group of tents, sort of reminiscent of an army encampment, but instead of soldiers, families, complete with women doing laundry and children playing, occupied the tents.

He spied a corral with a few horses inside and headed towards it. With no attendant in sight, Brakas dismounted and tied his reins to the rail of the corral. He started walking towards the town center while observing all of the construction taking place. The rumors had been true, he mused to himself; Ghala was on its way to becoming Fakara’s first city. He racked his brain trying to remember which tribe claimed this area, but he came up empty.

Many people waved to him as he passed, and he waved back. Off to his left, he saw the small hulls of freshly made boats, and women stitching new sails. On his right was a group of men sawing large logs to provide fresh lumber. The tools looked new and still held the shine of something just purchased. He saw smoke rising into the air and turned to investigate it. He shook his head in amazement as he spied a large furnace with a dozen men scurrying around it, but the framework of a very large building beyond the furnace immediately drew him towards it.

He veered around the furnace and headed towards the large framework. His eyes roamed as he walked and he saw a new dock along the riverbank, a dock too large to be used for the fishing vessels he had seen being made. As he approached the large framework, he saw dozens of men working on it. He spied a small group of men standing and talking near the framework and he came to a halt. He peered closely at the small group of men and his mouth hung open. He shook his head and marched towards the group with a broad smile on his face.

“Rejji,” greeted Brakas, “what are you doing here? I never thought I would see you again.”

“Brakas,” replied Rejji, “welcome to Ghala. “It has been a long time.”

“Indeed it has, lad,” grinned Brakas. “I guess the rumors of work and endless food brought you here too?”

“Hardly,” chuckled Riktor. “Rejji is the source of the work and endless food. Ghala will be known as the city Rejji built.”

“Not I,” blushed Rejji as he waved his hand around. “All of these people are building it for themselves. Please excuse me while I show Brakas around.”

The men nodded and moved off towards the framework.

“Did you ever get to see the Sage?” quizzed Brakas.

“We did,” nodded Rejji. “What brings you to Ghala? There are no tribes here.”

“It is hard to travel through any village east of the mountains without hearing about Ghala,” answered Brakas. “I just had to come and see it for myself. This is amazing. There must be hundreds of men here and other than the stockade wall going up, I did not see anything of a defense. Aren’t you worried about the tribes attacking?”

“The only tribe I worry about is the Jiadin,” replied Rejji. “Have you had any luck finding the free tribes?”

“No,” frowned Brakas. “I cannot imagine where they have gone to. Every time I hear a rumor about where one is, they are gone by the time I get there. It is getting very frustrating.”

“Well if you do succeed in finding them,” offered Rejji, “I would be interested in speaking to them. There is a home here for them if they agree to certain conditions. It is only a matter of time before the Jiadin learn of Ghala, and we can use some help in defending it. The benefits to the tribes would be great.”

“What are the benefits and the conditions?” queried Brakas.

“The benefits are that they will not have to plunder villages to eat well or pocket some gold,” explained Rejji. “The conditions are that they must be under the command of the city. We do not stand for stealing or harassing of the people who live here. We would expect the tribes to control the behavior of their men and to defend the city.”

“Under control of the city?” mused Brakas. “Whose control would that be?”

“We do not yet have a person to lead the defensive forces,” admitted Rejji. “It has not been necessary yet, but we would choose someone who would be acceptable to the tribes. It could be a man of the tribes, but someone who is known for being even-handed and fair.”

“That might be something I could get interested in,” smiled Brakas. “Without a tribe of my own, I am sure many would see me as the ideal candidate.”

“Perhaps,” nodded Rejji, “but we do not have any tribes to lead yet. Are you planning on staying here for a while?”

“Yes,” smiled Brakas. “I think I would like to see what Ghala is like. Where are you getting all of the food and tools?”

“They are shipped in from Khadora,” answered Rejji as he pointed. “Beyond those trees are fields of wasooki and clova. This building is going to be a warehouse for grain and supplies.”

“That building is rather large for supplies,” commented Brakas. “Where is all of the gold coming from to pay for this?”

“We have worked out a trading deal with a Khadoran clan,” responded Rejji hesitantly. “We will be selling things that Khadorans can not get in Khadora. You must be familiar with stockades. Why don’t you see what you can do with ours? The men building it are good workmen, but many have never seen a stockade before. Your help could be valuable to them.”

“That sounds like a great place for me to start,” nodded Brakas. “I could use a taste of that endless food before I start though.”

“You will find it to your liking,” smiled Rejji. “Near the town center is a kitchen. Have your fill and I will try to meet with you later. I have to prepare for another shipment coming in.”

Rejji turned and strode back towards the framework. He spoke briefly with Plesy and Copi about the arriving shipment and then spied a man near the beach with a campfire. He walked to the man and stood watching him for a moment before the man noticed he was there.

“You are Rejji,” smiled the man. “I am so thankful for you allowing me to become part of all this. I am Karlo.”

“Greetings, Karlo,” welcomed Rejji as he gazed at the pile of netting and a tin of black ore. “We are glad to have you here. What are you doing?”

“I am making screens for the new building,” beamed Karlo.

“Screens?” echoed Rejji. “I am not sure I understand.”

“The new building will have windows to allow air through,” explained Karlo, “but birds will enter the building and eat the grain. I will put these screens over the windows so the birds can not get in.”

“That sounds clever,” nodded Rejji, “but what is the black ore for?”

“An invention of my own,” grinned Karlo. “I have made screens for my own farm before, but the birds can get very aggressive and peck away at the screens. I have found that if I coat the screens with carganite, the birds cannot destroy them.”

“Carganite?” queried Rejji. “I never heard of it. What is it and how does it stop the birds?”

“It is an ore found in the mountains,” explained Karlo. “It melts at a fairly low temperature so that material can be coated with it. It strengthens the material and makes it very strong without reducing the flexibility of the fabric. I can coat the netting and then still bend it to cover the windows. It works very well. No birds will ever get into the building.”