Richard Tuttle - Web of Deceit

Rejji sat silently for some moments as he tried to determine the truth of what he was hearing. He had been leery of Brakas, but that alone did not validate Wyant’s story.

“You said you got to the Chadang too late,” interrogated Rejji. “When did you start following Brakas?”

“It was some time after that,” Wyant replied. “I was actually watching the movements of a Jiadin army near the South Fork when I first saw Brakas. I did not know what his mission was at that time. I was watching the army so I could warn the tribes of their movements. I was very tempted to kill Brakas and take my revenge, but I followed him instead. It turned out to be a wise move, because Brakas was the one doing the searching and he was to inform the army to strike.”

“Was Diakles with this army when Brakas was there?” quizzed Rejji as he thought about his meeting with Brakas along the South Fork.

“He was,” nodded Wyant with a puzzled look upon his face. “The little bloodthirsty brat got his the next day or so I heard.”

“Okay,” continued Rejji, “where did Brakas go next?”

“He went to a large village east of the Giaming Mountains,” Wyant said. “That is where I found out what his mission was. He asked everyone in the village if they knew where any of the free tribes were. He claimed to be trying to unite them as he told you, but I knew what his real goal was.”

“And you have had a constant watch on him ever since?” probed Rejji.

“No,” frowned Wyant. “I have lost track of him a few times. It is hard in places to track him without being seen. Sometimes I must take the chance of losing him and try to figure out where he is heading next. I have been successful though in keeping the tribes hidden.”

“Have you ever seen him this far north before?” Rejji asked.

“I have,” affirmed Wyant. “He spent several days camped near the Ghala headwaters one time. I almost lost him that time too. He had visitors one day and I tried moving around to get a better look at who they were. I ended up in a dead canyon and had to backtrack. I almost missed catching him leaving in the morning.”

“Where did he go?” frowned Rejji as he remembered the day he had found Brakas waiting for him.

“He rode all day to the peak of one of the Bone Mountains,” detailed Wyant. “General Winus had his troops camped out there. Why anyone would ever camp an army on a peak is beyond me. I though Winus was smarter than that. Anyway, Brakas did not stay long and headed south. I followed him all the way to the mouth of the Taggot River.”

“Did the general’s army leave?” sighed Rejji, already knowing the answer.

“They left before Brakas,” nodded Wyant. “It was as if they had been waiting for him. At first I feared Brakas had met someone who knew where the tribes were, but the army headed north, so I guess they were after something else.”

“Why do the tribes trust you to know their location?” asked Marak.

Wyant stared at the figure in black for a moment before answering. “They know I will not betray them to Grulak,” he answered. “The Zaldoni never were known for preying upon the other tribes, so they have little reason to fear me. They also know of Brakas’s betrayal and that I no longer command an army. I am no threat to them and I perform a service for them by tracking Brakas. Who are you and your men? I have seen most of the tribes in Fakara and your uniform is foreign to me.”

“Would the free tribes unite against Grulak?” Rejji interrupted.

“No,” frowned Wyant. “The tribes have been uprooted from their homes. They have no food to eat and they cannot afford to raid villages for fear of the Jiadin hearing about it. I fear eventually they will all succumb to Grulak. It is only a matter of time.”

“Then why do you continue with your task?” asked Lord Marak.

“I will continue until they kill me,” Wyant replied defiantly. “I will never willingly serve under such a butcher.”

“Are there any of the tribes who would stand up to Grulak as free men if they had the food and weapons to do so?” inquired Rejji.

“The tribes are on the verge of disbanding,” sighed Wyant. “They are no longer fighting forces. They are starving men. Many that I have spoken to have talked about checking out this new town of Ghala to settle down in. Their spirit is broken and they yearn for a new life. I can not blame them, but I fail to see how that will stop Grulak from dominating the whole of Fakara. The fact is, there is nowhere to hide from Grulak.”

“Then don’t hide,” retorted Rejji. “Help me stand and fight.”

“Stand and fight?” echoed Wyant. “Are you crazy? Grulak has tens of thousands of men. I thought you had more sense than that. What are you going to do, resurrect your tiny village?”

“No,” declared Rejji. “I am going to rebuild Ghala and I could use your help. You and any of the free tribes that are willing to meet some basic conditions.”

“Okay, wait a minute,” frowned Wyant. “You are going a little fast for me. What do you have to do with Ghala and why would it need to be rebuilt?”

“The Jiadin army that Brakas talked to attacked it and burned it down,” replied Rejji. “I built Ghala with the help of many great people and I intend to rebuild it. I do not imagine the Jiadin will give us a lot of time to do it though. I can use help.”

Wyant stared at Rejji as if seeing him for the first time. He turned and looked at the black clothed soldiers and his eyes landed on Marak. “Who are you and what do you have to do with all of this?” he asked Marak.

“I am Lord Marak of the Torak clan of Khadora,” Marak answered. “I have trading contracts with Rejji. We have come to view Ghala and the surrounding areas. I am very impressed with what I have seen. I think you should listen to Rejji’s offer seriously. It may be the only hope for Fakara’s future.”

Wyant nodded slowly and bit his lower lip in thought. “How many of your people survived the attack?” he asked Rejji.

“All of them,” smiled Rejji. “We have developed defense plans to keep the people safe. We do not have much of a defensive force so we were not able to save the buildings. I can promise each man you bring will have abundant food. He will never know hunger and he can be a part of the rebuilding of Fakara. Isn’t it time for us to end the misery that we have come to call life here in Fakara?”

“I sure would like to settle down in peace,” nodded Wyant. “What are the conditions that you will impose?”

“Very few,” stated Rejji. “We want no lawlessness in our city. Ghala is not a tribal fortress. It is our stake at a new civilization. We expect all of our citizens to behave honorably. That means no fighting among the tribes. No stealing or intimidating the citizenry. And the tribes will have to acknowledge a higher authority.”

“A higher authority?” questioned Wyant. “I suppose that means you? I don’t think the tribes will knuckle down for a man barely older than a lad.”

“I can easily set up a city council composed of old men if that makes them feel any better,” chuckled Rejji. “Actually, I was hoping you would be that higher authority. I would, of course, expect you to maintain the kind of order I need to make this work.”

“You finally believe me then?” queried Wyant.

“Oh yes,” nodded Rejji. “You place Brakas in the right places at the right times. I was in that party near the headwaters of the Ghala River and I was the one that Killed Diakles the day after you saw him. Yes I believe you.”

“You killed Diakles?” echoed Wyant. “That alone will raise you in the eyes of the tribes. How much food do you have in that city of yours?”

“I can have as much as I need,” Rejji said. “Lord Marak has two ships on the way and he will send more when I ask for it. We have nice herds of Wasooki and clova and more watula then we can use. You supply the men and let me worry about the food.”