Richard Tuttle - Web of Deceit

“Now show me this wonder you have built,” he smiled. “I followed your progress from the information Mistake has relayed to us and it sounds like you are doing everything right. You should be very proud.”

“I guess I am,” smiled Rejji. “I just haven’t stopped long enough to realize it. How did you know I could do it?”

“I didn’t,” admitted Marak, “although I have always felt that there is something special in you. Judging from this mural Mistake described, I think we were destined to meet. I am glad that we both followed through with what we thought was best. Have you had any luck in bringing the tribes over to your cause?”

“No,” frowned Rejji. “I have someone in town who spent a great deal of time searching for them, but he has not been successful.”

“I think that is key to your survival,” declared Marak. “You cannot expect your skilled workers to be skilled fighters as well. Now that I have seen the reaction of your people to my men, perhaps I can be persuaded to lend you a corte until you are able to find defenders.”

“That may be necessary,” replied Rejji, “but I would like it better if I can get Fakarans to defend us. I do appreciate all that you are doing for us, Lord Marak, but this is supposed to be a Fakaran movement and I would like it to be seen as one.”

“I understand and agree with you,” nodded Marak. “Still, I do not want to see you fail. I will leave the offer on the table for you to accept if you need to.”

Rejji spent several hours showing Lord Marak around the town. At each area, he stopped and introduced the Khadoran clan lord to the workers. At first the workers bowed to Lord Marak when introduced, but soon the word spread that the Khadoran did not stand on formalities. Rejji noticed the Torak soldiers mixing freely with the citizens and smiled in approval. Rejji was surprised to see the stockade wall complete and wondered if the workers had kept going the night before so it would be ready for Lord Marak’s arrival. The tour ended at the wasooki fields and Rejji suddenly realized that he had kept his guest busy all day without food.

“I am sorry, Lord Marak,” apologized Rejji. “I had no idea we were doing this so long. I have kept you from meals and even a chance to relax after your long journey.”

Marak gazed up at the sun and laughed. “I am as guilty as you are,” Marak replied. “I guess I was so involved that time did not register. There is plenty of time for food and relaxing now that I have seen all of Ghala. I must tell you that I am very impressed. Your workers are happy and content. Their workmanship is fine and they all seem to get along well with each other. This is not the picture of Fakarans that we have in Khadora. If all Fakarans are like this, Khadora will have a wonderful neighbor and trading partner.”

“All Fakarans are no more like this, than all Khadorans are like you,” Rejji retorted. “Your compliment is well received though. The people of Ghala have concocted a feast in honor of your arrival. It is with your own food, but I trust the local flavor of preparing it will delight you.”

“Let us not keep them waiting then,” chuckled Lord Marak. “I hope your people have had more sense than us and eaten something during the day.”

Rejji led Lord Marak to the center of town. The people had built long tables with construction lumber and the tables were heaped with food. There was a merry atmosphere amongst the people and several had gotten together to play music on improvised instruments. The Torak soldiers were interspersed with the locals. With the exception of their black and silver uniforms and the weapons they carried, it would have been hard to tell them apart.

Marak made a motion with his fingers, unseen by most, but Halman and Gunta appeared swiftly by his side. He gave them instructions to have his men go lightly on the ale as they were leaving in the morning. Rejji watched as Halman and Gunta casually infiltrated each group of people that contained a Torak soldier and passed some undetected signal to the soldiers.

“How do they do that?” asked Rejji. “I have not seen either one of them open their mouth and yet each soldier is putting his ale aside.”

“When men have lived and worked together for a long time,” Marak explained, “they come to know one another well. My men know that drinking and missions do not mix. It only takes a tap of a finger from Halman or Gunta for the soldiers to know that I am requesting something of them and they know what it is. They are good men and well trained. Botal is an excellent squad leader.”

“I have learned from Botal,” nodded Rejji remembering the tripwire trick. “You seem to inspire the best in your men.”

“You do as well,” smiled Marak. “I am very pleased with Ghala and you should be too. I look forward to meeting your other people, the Qubari.”

“I hope you do not take offense, Lord Marak,” stated Rejji, “but I do not wish to take the whole squad into the jungle.”

“No offense is taken,” responded Marak. “I would do the same in your position. I do hope that you will allow Halman and Gunta to accompany us. The stress it would cause them to have me out of their sight would be cruel punishment.”

“I have heard them called your twin shadows,” chuckled Rejji. “I have planned for them to come with us. I figure a small party should be able to sneak past the hellsouls easier.”

“Our party will not be much smaller than your last,” stated Marak. “I think wading through the hellsouls will be a more accurate description. As long as you have your staff, we will be fine.”

“You are optimistic,” frowned Rejji. “There are hundreds of them and one nick of your skin can be fatal.”

“Then we shall not let them get close,” Marak said seriously.

Plesy and Copi approached Rejji and Lord Marak and the conversation changed to talk of Ghala and Khadora. The festive atmosphere continued well into the night, but the Khadorans slipped off one by one and went to sleep. Rejji retired when Lord Marak left and shut the festivities out of his mind.

Rejji awoke at dawn and found the Khadorans already enjoying their morning meal. None of the men showed any signs of over imbibing the ale. Rejji joined them for the meal and then they all walked to the corral. Bakhai and Mistake arrived to wish them a safe journey as they mounted their horses and headed for the gates of the stockade. Many townspeople had arisen and they all stopped whatever they were doing to watch the Khadorans leave.

Rejji announced that they had reached their destination and Squad Leader Botal signaled for the column to halt at the edge of the Qubari Jungle. Botal dismounted and indicated that the squad should make camp.

“We will be leaving the horses here,” Rejji said to Lord Marak.

Rejji felt he was being watched and he waved in the direction of the jungle. Marak issued orders to Botal to keep the squad on alert, but ordered that they were not to enter the jungle. Rejji led Marak, Gunta, and Halman into the jungle.

“Welcome home, Astor,” Mobi called softly.

“Greetings, Mobi,” smiled Rejji. “Meet Lord Marak and his men, Gunta and Halman.”

“Welcome Khadoran friends of the Astor,” smiled Mobi as he appeared on the trail before them.

“Thank you for allowing us to enter your realm,” replied Lord Marak.

“Are you alone?” quizzed Rejji.

“I am,” answered Mobi. “Dumo felt it best if I was the only one to accompany you into the city.”

“Actually,” frowned Rejji, “there is no need for you to enter Angragar again. You have already shown your courage and skill. I merely wanted a guide to the ancient city from this direction. How is Voltak?”