Web of Deceit (7 page)

The young thief picked a sturdy branch that overshot the roof and started crawling out on it. When the branch started to sag appreciably, she tied a loop in the rope and passed the free end around the branch and through the loop. She worked the entire rope through the loop and lowered the free end to the roof. She flattened herself on the branch and wiggled until her body dropped and she hung from the branch by her hands. She grabbed the rope and silently lowered herself to the roof. She walked a short distance to the large opening, dragging the rope behind her. She flattened herself to the roof and inched towards the hole and peered down into the large room to see if anyone would notice her entry.

She saw a body on the floor of the room and stared at it. A lump formed in her throat when she recognized the body and realized it was Rejji. She stuck her head in further and scanned the rest of the room. It was too dark to see anything past the patch of moonlight and Mistake decided to chance an entry. She slowly fed the free end of the rope into the hole until it was taut. She swiveled so that she was sitting on the roof with her legs dangling inside the room and grabbed the rope with both hands. She lowered herself almost to the floor before realizing that she was over an open fire pit, which explained the structure under the building. She twisted her body to make the rope swing from side to side. When the arc was wide enough to carry her over the pit to solid floor, she dropped down and held the rope to stop it from swinging back to the pit.

Mistake looked around the room again and swiftly moved to Rejji’s body. Rejji jumped when he felt Mistake touch him and she whispered his name. Rejji sat up and turned to face Mistake.

“How did you get here?” he whispered as he looked up at the rope hanging from above. “You should be long gone on your journey to find the Sage.”

“I am not going anywhere without you,” she whispered back. “I made a pledge to Brontos and I intend to keep it. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Go without me,” Rejji said. “Go find your Sage. I have to stay.”

“Are you crazy?” she scowled. “You are no more a bandit than I am a priest. Get on that rope or I’ll wrap it around you and haul you up.”

Rejji smiled strangely at Mistake and reached out and held her hand. “I believe that you would,” he grinned, “but I must stay. I must avenge my village and countless others that these people prey upon. To do that, I must learn their ways. Here they will teach me to use a sword, to ride a horse, to think like they think. I overheard them talking about me tonight. They plan to use me for their own ends, but that works both ways.”

“Rejji,” Mistake pleaded, “you are not cut out to be a bandit. You will die here. These people do not care about what happens to others. They care only for themselves. Trust me on this because I know. I used to be just like them. Brontos in his strange way made me see that. He knew right off I was a thief. He didn’t hate me for it. He was saddened because he thought I deserved better and he convinced me of it too. All my life I have been the object of hatred. You can’t imagine what that does to you. It makes you return the hatred, not only to people who despise you, but to everyone. I don’t want to live that way anymore. If you stay here you may learn to ride a horse, but you will suffer for it. You will become one of them. Don’t do it.”

“I can’t run and hide,” frowned Rejji. “My life has been turned upside down. It is not only my grandfather and the rest of the villagers, Mistake. It is everyone. If nobody takes a stand against these crimes, then how will it ever stop? Which village will be next to be slaughtered? We could probably run away now and maybe we would even survive the chase, but what then? What would we do on our travels every time we came to another slaughtered village? You just spoke how they think of nothing but themselves, yet you are asking me to be just like them and think only of us. I cannot do that. Somebody has to try and set things right. I may not be the person to do it, but I cannot fathom giving up without trying.”

Tears formed in Mistake’s eyes as she realized she was losing the argument. “Then I will stay too,” she declared.

“No,” pleaded Rejji. “You can’t. They will kill you on sight. Go find your Sage. Turn that new leaf and live a happy life. This is something I have to do. Not you.”

“You think you are better suited for this than I am?” she questioned. “I can ride a horse. I know how to use a sword and daggers. I bet I can beat most of these overweight braggarts right now. They move so slowly that they won’t even be able to strike me.”

“That is not the point, Mistake,” Rejji sighed. “You are a girl. Have you ever seen a girl bandit?”

“And just what do you think I have been doing all my life, Rejji?” she asked. “If the Greens don’t have woman bandits, maybe I should enlighten them.”

“You said you were walking away from all that,” Rejji protested. “Now you are eager to get back into it?”

“I don’t want to get back into it, Rejji,” she answered. “I want us to get out of here, but you refuse. I am merely stating that I am going where you are going. You can decide where that is to be.”

Rejji sat and shook his head. It was clear to him what he must do with his life, but he did not want to drag Mistake into it. He stared up at the dangling rope and realized what she must have gone through to get in to see him. It became clear to him that she was not just going to leave because he asked her to.

“Can you survive in the woods alone?” Rejji asked. “Without being seen or detected?”

“I have done so fairly well so far,” she retorted. “Why? What are you scheming?”

“Give me a couple of weeks here,” Rejji suggested. “Let me learn some basic skills and find out how they operate. I will try to learn as fast as I can and then maybe we can leave this place behind us.”

“Maybe?” Mistake questioned. “It sounds like you aren’t too sure that you will want to leave.”

“I do not desire to be a bandit,” Rejji declared. “You know what I am after. I just don’t know if I can learn enough in a couple of weeks. I will try to. But you must leave. I cannot have your capture on my mind.”

“You needn’t worry about me,” the thief protested. “I know how to handle myself. I will meet you half way.”

“Half way?” questioned Rejji. “How you can you leave half way? Either you leave or you don’t.”

“Not true,” grinned Mistake. “I won’t show myself, but I will always be here. While you are off learning to slay innocent villagers, I will be right below you.”

“Below me?” quizzed Rejji. “What do you mean?”

“There is a crawl space below this building,” explained Mistake. “I will stay right below you until it is time to leave.”

“You can’t get away with that for long,” cautioned Rejji. “Sooner or later somebody will notice you.”

“Then you had better study hard,” Mistake stated firmly. “The longer you dally, the greater chance of me being caught.”

Mistake rose and grabbed the rope with both hands and lifted her feet off the floor. She started climbing even as the rope swung from side-to-side. When she reached the roof, she let go of the rope and grabbed the roof with both hands. Just at that moment the door to the room swung open and Wyant walked in. Mistake froze and Rejji caught sight of the rope swaying above his head as Wyant walked towards him. Rejji did the only thing he could think of to distract Wyant. He charged across the floor and dove at the leader of the Zaldoni tribe.

The wind whipped his flowing red robe and threatened to push back his hood as Veltar stepped out onto the platform at the top of the pyramid. He scowled and pulled the red hood taut as he bowed into the wind and made for the edge of the platform. The wind decreased as he moved away from the doorway and when he reached the edge he stood erect and gazed out over the sacred Plains of Vandegar. It was on these plains, history told, that man had come together to defy the gods. The civilization of man had been grand then, thousands of years ago, thousands of years even before the invasion of the people who became known as the Fakarans.

Veltar looked out upon the huge semicircular section of the plain that was now part of the sea. The legends state that the gods in their anger caused the plain to buckle and the sea to turn upon the land, swallowing millions of souls in the blink of an eye, their souls forever captive under the waves of the sea. That day in history, it is said, the gods spat upon man and brushed away his aggressiveness as being insignificant. The remaining people fled to the far corners of the continent and hid from the gods. The pyramid Temple of Vandegar was abandoned and forsaken ever since. Until now.

The sound of footsteps caused Veltar to turn and see Grulak, leader of the Jiadin, approaching. Grulak’s muscles bulged beneath his red-dyed armor and his footsteps pounded loudly across the stones as he moved to the edge to stand beside Veltar.

“Greetings, Your Excellency,” bowed Veltar.

“Not quite yet,” scowled Grulak. “I thought I might find you up here.”

“It will be soon,” Veltar assured the leader as he waved his hand over the plain below. “See how your armies gather. Already you have amassed the greatest army and you have not even invited the other tribes to join with you.”

“The people recognize a great leader when they see one,” Grulak blustered. “Convincing the other tribes will not be so easy though.”

“You will prevail,” snickered Veltar. “I guarantee it. Has not my advice already brought you all of the new recruits each season? No longer do the young ones seek to join just any tribe, they now seek to join the Jiadin Tribe.”

“Yes, your advice has been good,” admitted Grulak. “That is why I have made you my most trusted advisor.”

“The only advisor you need,” Veltar pointed out. “The others trembled when you decided to move your forces here and reoccupy the sacred temple.”

Grulak looked down at the plain and saw his army encampments. From horizon to horizon tents were pitched and more men were arriving every day. Tens of thousands of men had rallied to him in the past few years.

“Are you sure these village slaughters are a good idea?” asked Grulak. “It may make the other tribes feel as if we are invading their territories. They might be less likely to join with us then.”

“On the contrary,” smiled Veltar, “it shows them the distance of your reach. The tribes only understand power. For years they have existed by displaying their power over the defenseless villagers. Now we are doing to them what they have been doing to the villagers. They will tremble and beg to give you allegiance. I do have a concern with the slaughters though.”

“Oh,” Grulak said as he continued gazing down upon his armies. “What is the problem?”

“My men are not treated with due respect,” declared Veltar. “Your patrol leaders will often do things that obstruct what my men are trying to accomplish.”

“Your men,” reminded Grulak, “are merely servants of an advisor. The patrol leaders are in charge of the raids. What part of that do your men not understand? You are the only advisor who has men going out on the raids. You should be satisfied with that.”

“I should be,” frowned Veltar, “but I am not. I want my men to be of a position over the patrol leaders.”

“Preposterous!” exclaimed Grulak. “You overstep your bounds. You cause me to suspect your desires for power, Veltar. You are but an advisor and one I can dispense with. Mark your territory wisely.”

“Of course, Master,” bowed Veltar. “Forgive my suggestions, but I am only trying to serve you to the best of my ability.”

“Well,” lectured Grulak, “just remember your place in things. My patrol leaders are well trained and suited for the positions I have given them.”

“I would not have even brought up the subject except for the welfare of Diakles,” smiled Veltar.

“Diakles?” queried Grulak. “What does my son have to do with the patrols?”

“I have had another vision,” Veltar reported. “I did not want to disturb you with it, but the problems with the patrols makes it necessary.”

“What was in the vision?” trembled Grulak. “Is there danger for Diakles? What kind of danger?”

“I saw a battle and Diakles was in the vanguard,” stated Veltar as he assumed a trance-like pose. “He was magnificent in his splendor and his men followed him with pride. They loved him almost as much as they love you. The battle was fierce, but Diakles easily trounced the enemy and declared victory. There was, however, one lone survivor amongst the enemy ranks. It was a young man around the same age as Diakles and this man looked not like a warrior.”

Veltar closed his eyes and stretched his hand to Grulak’s shoulder as if for support. “This man had a crescent mark in the palm of his hand and he held that hand up and demanded that Diakles put away his weapons or he would die. Diakles laughed and charged the man, but his weapons appeared to do no harm to the stranger. The vision grew dark at this point, but I heard the scream of death before it ended.”

“Whose death?” demanded Grulak. “Who died? Surely it was the stranger?

“I do not know,” Veltar said opening his eyes and removing his hand from Grulak’s shoulder. “This is strange in itself as my visions have always been clear when you were the victor. It has caused me great concern for Diakles’s well being.”

Grulak felt a tremor of terror race down his spine as he envisioned his son’s death. “I will keep him with me at all times,” declared the Jiadin leader.

“The vision clearly showed him leading the army,” Veltar pointed out. “You may try to alter the outcome of my vision, but things that are seen, will happen. Diakles will lead that army and he will fight that stranger, if that stranger still exists that is.”

“Yes,” nodded Grulak, “that is the answer. Find this boy with the mark on his palm and kill him now, before Diakles must meet him. That way we do not have to worry about the outcome that your vision did not show.”

“That is exactly what I have been trying to accomplish, My Lord,” smiled Veltar. “Yet you have just rejected my plans to do this.”

“Rejected?” questioned Grulak. “What are you talking about? You are to do everything in your power to find and kill this boy. How have I rejected your help?”