Web of Deceit (10 page)

“Why do we even need them, Father,” asked Diakles. “We have more than enough men to overrun Khadora now. None of these tribes will dare stand against us here in Fakara.”

“You underestimate both Khadora and these tribes, Diakles,” scolded Grulak. “Look down there. Over a hundred tribes are assembled. None of them can come close to our strength, but together they could cause us to abort our attack on Khadora and end up defending our position here.”

“The Khadorans are a like problem, Diakles,” smiled Veltar. “They are broken into clans that hate each other and constantly fight amongst themselves, but if they were united, it would be a potent army.”

“You are too cautious, Veltar,” sneered Diakles. “I think you make my father appear weak before the tribes. We should not be asking them to join us. We should be demanding their obedience. If we brought out our reserves on the peninsula and surrounded them, they would fold in a minute, begging to serve my father.”

Veltar seethed as his jaw tightened and his veins grew large and visible. Grulak saw this and knew his advisor and his son were going to come to odds.

“Diakles,” Grulak commanded, “go down and make sure all of the tribe leaders are assembled. Tell them that I will speak to them within the hour. Go.”

“Maybe the boy has a point,” Grulak stated after his son had entered the temple. “I do not mean about the weakness of the tribes or Khadorans, but about a show of strength to the tribes. It appears to them now that we are of equal size to the largest of them, when in fact we have most of our men hidden.”

“The boy has much to learn yet,” Veltar said as he tried to calm himself. “While none of the tribes can match your strength, there are overly proud men who lead them. Some may be feared into obedience, but many will bolt if they feel threatened. I have such a demonstration planned for them, but one that will display our power in such a way as to not make them feel immediately threatened. It will be a show of power that will cause them to dwell upon the ill fortunes of opposing you, but not an immediate threat that they must counter or die.”

“And you are saving this as a surprise to me?” asked Grulak. “Why shouldn’t I know your plan?”

“It is something you will appreciate,” laughed Veltar. “Come I will tell you about it on the way down.”

The leader of the Jiadin and his advisor wound their way down the inside of the massive Vandegar Temple. The temple was filled with Jiadin troops so that they would be hidden from view of the gathering tribes. Another large detachment of Jiadin troops were hidden on a peninsula to the north of the temple and would only be used in the event that fighting broke out, which was not expected.

“Impressive,” grinned Grulak as they exited the temple and stood looking down the steps at the assembled leaders. “I wondered what all those carts arriving during the night were for. I meant to ask you about them. Will it really work?”

“Of course,” smirked Veltar. “After they are fully prepared to think about the lake lesson, we will have the men in the temple start marching out in an orderly and non-aggressive fashion. I have figured that it will take a full four hours for all of the men to get out. So while the leaders are thinking about my demonstration, they will be watching a show of your real might. Only a fool would choose to oppose you then. It is important that no aggression be shown them before that time though or they will bolt.”

“Your plan is excellent, Veltar,” nodded Grulak. “I approve of it. I think we should get this started right away. Where is Diakles? I want him to see the mastery of his father at work.”

“I am sure he is watching,” offered Veltar. “Nothing this big has ever happened in centuries. Nobody would want to miss it.”

Veltar moved away from Grulak as the Jiadin leader began his speech from the top of the stairs. He reentered the temple and climbed several stories to a balcony that overlooked the lake and the assembled leaders and yet offered a place to keep him out of sight while still allowing him to hear what was going on. He watched the faces of the most important leaders for signs of whether they would join or not.

Veltar felt that Grulak was excellent in his speech. He saw many leaders agreeing that the union of tribes would be best for all, but there was also a large number who recognized the power play Grulak was selling, that it would not be a union of equals. Veltar knew the time for his demonstration was fast approaching. He merely had to wait for one of the leaders to ask the right question, and he felt strongly that the leader of the blues would be the one to ask it. The Chadang were a very large tribe and had an ancient feud with the Jiadin. He would be surprised if their leader did not ask the question.

As expected Vrylok, leader of the blue tribe, the Chadang, rose and signaled a question and Veltar began the incantation.

“What if we decide we don’t want to be part of your army?” Vrylok shouted. “What then?”

A tremendous roar echoed across the plain as the water of Lake Jabul started boiling. Steam rose off the lake and the water roiled and spat up in spouts and geysers. The tumult increased and soon human body parts could be seen rising in the geysers of the lake. Everyone’s eyes were transfixed on the spectacle as the continent’s largest lake threw off huge clouds of steam into the air.

It ended as quickly as it had started and the steam drifted off with the wind. Left floating on the surface of the lake were hundreds of bodies, the bodies of the slain villagers that Veltar had arranged to bring to Vandegar Temple. The bodies were in various stages of decay and the smell of that decay carried on the wind.

When everything had subsided and attention was once again returned to Grulak, he spoke. “I am sorry,” he stated loudly. “What was the question?”

Vrylok was beet red and everyone could see the fury in his face, but they could also see his fear. He sat down in his seat silently and Grulak continued explaining how the tribes would conquer the continent.

Veltar knew that his lake trick had accomplished its goal, as fear was evident on most of the faces. The small knots of leaders who had obviously been talking amongst themselves about leaving had become silent.

Veltar looked curiously as a Chadang rider approached Vrylok and spoke to him. Vrylok shot a look of pure hatred toward Grulak and rose as if to speak. Whatever was said by the Chadang rider spread like a fire amongst the assembled leaders. Within moments, every assembled leader was on his feet and heading towards their own troops as vanguards of the tribes came forward to protect their leaders.

Veltar could hear Grulak screaming and cursing and ordering his men to attack. Veltar saw everything coming apart, everything he had planned so long for. His mind burned with rage as he tried to figure out what had gone wrong. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw movement across the plain. He turned and stared at the reserve army of the Jiadin that was supposed to be out of sight on the peninsula, except it was charging towards the temple. He narrowed his eyes and saw the banner of Diakles at the front of the charging army and knew what fool had spoiled his plan.

The tribes had somehow learned of the approaching Jiadin army and had reacted as Veltar had warned. He looked below and saw Grulak screaming at his army within the temple, trying to get them to come out and attack the tribes.

Veltar swore as his rage climaxed. He knew how long it would take that army to get out of the temple and by then the tribes would be long gone. Veltar entered the temple and tried to get to his quarters to plan the campaign of subduing the Fakaran tribes, which he had hoped would not be needed. The temple, however, was full of warriors trying desperately to get out. He returned to the balcony and stared at the approaching Jiadin army and vowed to himself that Diakles would pay dearly for his foolishness.

Despite the rule of silence in the slave convoy, there were muttered exclamations as the wagons descended out of the Fortung Mountains into Khadora. For the Fakaran prisoners who had spent their lives in a barren wasteland, the lush fields of Khadora were a sight to behold. The height of the mountains afforded a panoramic view of a nation blessed with fertile soil and thriving commerce. From their high vantage point, the slaves were afforded views of barges traveling down the Khadora River and colorful wagon conveys traversing the roads. The barges were loaded with livestock and produce and one could only imagine the contents of the wagons. Even the air smelled sweeter on the Khadoran side of the mountains and many of the slaves wore smiles of excitement and appeared to forget their bondage.

“With all of this wealth in Khadora,” Rejji whispered, “why would Brontos waste his time coming to Fakara? What do we have to offer that could not be found here?”

“I would suspect there is more profit in supplying things where the items are not plentiful,” responded Mistake. “The goods you see moving on those barges are certainly plentiful here. I guess they are also cheap here.”

“But not in Fakara,” Rejji added. “And the shark’s teeth from my village could not be found here at all I bet. So he makes his gold by transporting goods where they are plentiful and common to areas that lack them.”

“Makes sense,” Mistake agreed. “I wonder what our lives would have been like if we had been born in a paradise like this.”

“From what Brontos said,” Rejji replied, “not everything is paradise here. Do not forget that we are to be sold as slaves.”

“Not for long,” promised Mistake. “I will run away the first chance I get. I am sure I can make a living somehow on my own.”

“I wonder how,” frowned Rejji.

“I will do what I must to survive,” declared Mistake. “Would you do any differently?”

“I could envision myself as a merchant in this land,” sighed Rejji. “Remember what Brontos said though. Everyone belongs to a clan here. They will kill you if you are caught escaping.”

“They will have to catch me first,” retorted Mistake.

“Quiet,” shouted one of the slavers.

The noise from the slaves ceased but everyone clung to the rungs of the cage and peered at the landscape as the caravan progressed. The whole morning and most of the afternoon was spent traveling down from the mountains and late in the afternoon, the convoy turned off the road to enter an estate. Soldiers in white uniforms with blue waistbands, armbands and headbands stopped the wagons. After a short pause, the convoy continued down a smaller road with large fields of wasooki on each side.

Rejji watched in wonder as they continued down the road and fields, rich in the green splendor of some type of vegetable, replaced the fields of wasooki. Buildings started to appear after a while and people working in the fields. When the vegetable fields faded, smaller fields with clova in them appeared and Rejji shot a look at Bakhai who had moaned audibly. Rejji moved his seat to sit next to Bakhai as the caravan turned in front of a large mansion and stopped.

“Are you sick?” Rejji whispered. “I heard you moan.”

Bakhai shook his head. “The wasooki looked wonderful,” he said, “but those clova are dying.”

Rejji tried to look back at the clova fields, but they were no longer visible. The slavers appeared at the back of the wagon and unlocked the door and ordered everyone out. The slaves were ordered to stand in a straight line and Rejji ended up being separated from both Bakhai and Mistake. Slaves from the other wagons were also being lined up and three people came out of the mansion and greeted the head slaver. Rejji was close enough to hear the introductions. He learned that the name of the tall, lean slave master was Mulando. The man in the military uniform was Marshal Ulmreto of the Pikata clan and the other two were Bursar Wicado and Seneschal Trang.

Each of the Pikata people inspected the slaves. From their comments they were not thrilled with the quality of the slaves. They complained about the age and fitness of the slaves and generally acted disinterested. The only one to inspect Rejji was Marshal Ulmreto. He sized Rejji up as Wyant had when he joined the Zaldoni, but the Marshal was not impressed and moved on down the line.

Mistake was the only slave chosen when the Seneschal picked her out, after learning that the girl could read and write. The Seneschal and Mulando went off to one side and started bickering about the price for Mistake as the other slavers started putting the slaves back in the wagons. Rejji grew frantic at the thought of being separated from Mistake and tried to figure out what skills he could proclaim to have so that he would be chosen to stay with her. He hung his head in defeat as the slavers gathered up the slaves for his wagon and started to herd them back in.

As the slaver grabbed his arm to push him into the wagon, Rejji said, “Wait.”

The slaver hesitated a moment and Rejji turned to him. “I think I can sell a few more of us if you give me the chance.”

The slaver stared at him strangely for a moment and then started to push Rejji in, when another slaver spoke, “Why not give him a chance? The quicker we get rid of them, the sooner we can get out of this country.”

The slaver with his arm on Rejji hesitated again. He pulled Rejji back out of the wagon. “If you are thinking of doing something to make fools of us,” he warned, “I will make you very sorry.”

“No,” promised Rejji. “This place looks very nice to me and I think I can convince them that we have talents they can use. I am tired of living in a cage. I would rather be a slave here than continue riding. I promise I will try my best.”

“What talents do you have?” the slaver asked.

The commotion was starting to draw attention and Rejji looked around for the Marshal, but he had already left. He still hadn’t figured out what talents he could profess to have, but an idea popped into his head. He saw Bursar Wicado staring at him and the slaver and boldly walked over to him.

“Bursar, Sir,” Rejji said respectfully, “there is one in the wagon with me who can help you a great deal.”

The slaver Rejji had slipped away from came up behind him and Rejji could hear the man growling, but the Bursar looked amused.

“And you have great knowledge of what my needs are?” smiled the Bursar. “I suppose you ran an estate of your own in Fakara?”