Web of Deceit

by Richard S. Tuttle

  While Rejji was looking around, he saw another traveling merchant with a wagon like the one that Brontos had. He saw the merchant staring at him, but the man looked away when Rejji made eye contact. It made him wonder if Brontos ever came to this estate. When Rejji returned his attention to Mulando, his heart sank. Mistake and Bakhai were gone, as was the Seneschal. The Bursar was heading towards the traveling merchant and Mulando was calling to his men to return to the wagons and prepare to leave. Rejji hung his head in despair and suddenly felt very lonely. He suddenly realized how much he enjoyed Mistake’s company and knew he would miss Bakhai as well.

  The wagons started rolling and Rejji looked out to see if he could catch a last glimpse of his friends. Rejji’s wagon was first in the procession and it stopped alongside the merchant’s wagon. Mulando suddenly appeared at the rear and opened the door. He reached in and grabbed Rejji by the arm and motioned him out. He put his hand on Rejji’s shoulder and marched him over to the Bursar who was talking to the merchant. Without a word, Mulando turned and returned to the convoy and the caravan continued down the small road leading off the estate.

  Rejji stood quietly as the Bursar and the merchant discussed the terms of a contract. Rejji did not pay attention to the conversation, but rather focused on the elation he felt at being left at the estate. Lost in his own thought, he did not hear the Bursar addressing him the first time. Suddenly the Bursar placed his hand on Rejji’s shoulder.

  “What are you called?” the Bursar asked.

  “I am sorry, Sir,” Rejji apologized. “I am called Rejji. Thank you for selecting me.”

  The merchant climbed aboard his wagon and left as the Bursar led Rejji into the mansion. “We have strict rules here in Khadora that may seem foreign to you,” The Bursar said as they walked. “You shall never lie. If you do, you will die. If you try to escape, you will die. You are to speak only when spoken to, unless you and I are alone. I will allow you to speak in my presence. In fact, I would like to learn more about you. I am not sure why I purchased you, for you have no marketable skills that I can tell, but you intrigue me. You job here will be to do whatever I need done. I am sure I will find work for you.”

  Rejji stared at the entrance hall of the mansion. The floor was polished stone and the doors off the hall were ornate wood. There was a large wooden staircase going upstairs with archways on either side of it. Rejji had never seen such splendor. Wicado led Rejji through one of the archways and halted a man wearing a brown tunic.

  “Get this boy cleaned up, feed him and show him to his quarters,” he instructed the man.

  The man nodded and grabbed Rejji’s arm and led him down a corridor and into a room with several large tubs in it. The man told Rejji to remove his clothes and started dumping buckets of water into one of the tubs. As Rejji climbed into the tub, the man grabbed Rejji’s old clothes and threw them in a basket of rags. As Rejji washed up, he watched the man, who he realized was probably a slave. The man went to some shelves and picked out new clothes for Rejji, brown like his own. Rejji wondered if the others had gone through the same procedure and what would be said when they found Mistake’s hidden knives. He wondered what her duties were going to be and if he would ever see her again.

  After Rejji was dressed the slave took Rejji to the kitchen and gave him a bowl of stew. He also got a bowl for himself and sat next to Rejji.

  “My name is Lam,” he offered. “If you have questions you can ask me.”

  “I am Rejji,” smiled Rejji. “Thanks for helping me. I may need help understanding things, I am Fakaran.”

  “You will do fine,” the man smiled. “Working in the mansion is not so bad. Those that work outside have it much worse.”

  Rejji's thoughts turned to Bakhai and he wondered how the animal boy would adjust. “Do all of the slaves sleep together?” he asked.

  “No,” Lam replied. “Inside slaves live in the basement. Two rooms. One for boys. One for girls. The outside people live in huts. They are crowded and leak when it rains. Much better inside. Food is better in here too.”

  “What will happen to our old clothes?” Rejji asked while thinking about the animal skins his two friends wore.

  “Rag pile,” offered Lam. “You won’t need them anymore.”

  “Does anyone ever get out slavery?” Rejji asked.

  “No,” Lam stated as he shook his head. “Some have tried escaping, but their deaths are made public to discourage others from running away. Do not even think of such a thing.”

  “Nobody ever leaves?” frowned Rejji.

  “Oh some are sold to other estates,” offered Lam, “but other than that, this is your home for the rest of your life. You would be wise to accept that and make the best out of it. I have seen many new people in my years here and those who have suffered the most are those who refuse to accept their lot in life.”

  Rejji’s thoughts immediately turned to Mistake. He knew she could not accept her life here. Not that anyone would readily give up all hope of freedom, but Mistake’s very nature would cause her to fight it until she died.”

  “Is it possible to talk to other slaves?” Rejji inquired.

  “Sometimes,” Lam said. “It depends on their positions. If you live in the same hut as another slave, you can talk all night if you want, or if you are working a joint task that requires talking, like preparing meals. If you are caught talking when you are supposed to be working, the watchers will beat you.”

  “What about downstairs?” asked Rejji wondering if Mistake was an outside or inside slave.

  “It is possible here at night,” Lam nodded. “If you sleep in the same room, then nobody cares.” Lam smiled suddenly and continued, “If you mean a girl who works inside, it is still possible. While you cannot enter the girls’ room, there is a third room down there. It is a large room with benches that we can use for hobbies, like stitching or drawing. There is always a watcher there and they do not like large groups getting together, but they do not mind a boy and girl talking unless they think you are plotting something. If you get marked as a troublemaker, they will always watch you closely and you will not be allowed to speak to anyone. Let me show you where you will stay.”

  Lam led Rejji downstairs to the slave quarters. He showed Rejji the large communal room with doors to the separate sleeping quarters. As he had been used to staying up nights talking and sleeping days, Rejji was exhausted. When Lam showed him the mat he was to use, Rejji curled up and went to sleep.

  The slaves returning from their day’s work did not disturb Rejji, but the commotion in the morning as everyone scurried about to prepare for a new day brought Rejji wide awake. As everyone filtered out of the room, Lam was there to show Rejji to the Bursar’s office.

  Wicado’s office really consisted of three rooms. The door from the hallway entered a large sitting room, which had two doors off of it. One door went to the Bursar’s sleeping quarters and the other to his office. Wicado was in a jubilant mode and after greeting Rejji sent him down to get a morning meal for both of them. Rejji got lost and a watcher stopped him. Rejji explained he was working for the Bursar, and after a lengthy grilling, the guard pointed him in the direction of the kitchen.

  Over the morning meal, Wicado questioned Rejji about Fakara. He seemed particularly interested in Rejji’s time with the Zaldoni. As they finished eating, Rejji mentioned to the Bursar that he got lost on the way to the kitchen and the guard had showed him the way after he was convinced that Rejji wasn’t running around loose. Then conversation turned to Bakhai.

  “This boy you had me buy yesterday,” Wicado asked, “can he really help the flock?”

  “I really believe he can, Sir,” Rejji replied. “He has a way with animals that is unique. If anyone can help, it is Bakhai.”

  “The fact that he noticed the ill health of the flock is a positive indication,” nodded Wicado. “We have never been able to develop a healthy flock. If it were not for Rymaka, the nephew of our Lord, I doubt we would even have clova on the e
state. He was gored by a wasooki years ago and has no sense when it comes to plants. I think our Lord purchased the clova to keep him busy, but we have never been able to turn a profit on them.”

  “I am sure Bakhai will help,” assured Rejji. “Your purchase will prove to be fruitful.”

  “Well I have a council meeting to attend this morning, so we can not talk longer,” frowned Wicado. “Perhaps you can straighten up in here while I am gone.”

  Wicado rose and gathered some papers. As he started to leave, he abruptly returned and put his papers on the desk. He opened a drawer and took out a small pin.

  “Actually, the office really doesn’t require cleaning,” he stated as he stuck the small pin on Rejji’s tunic. “This pin identifies you as my personal slave. It allows you to move about the estate without too much questioning. Do not abuse it or I will be sorely disappointed about the punishment I will be required to administer.”

  “Why do you give it to me?” Rejji asked.

  “Because you have accepted your life here without the normal attitude of a new slave,” Wicado stated. “I believe you will adjust well and I have something I want you to do that requires it. Rymaka is a spoiled brat and if I get him upset while trying to turn a profit on the clova, I will lose favor with our Lord. I want you to go to the flock and see how Bakhai is making out. Impress upon the boy that he must cure the clova while making it seem like Rymaka has done it. If you can accomplish this, everybody will be happy.”

  “I am sure this can be done,” smiled Rejji. “I will see to it immediately.”

  Wicado nodded, picked up his papers and left the office. Rejji stared at the new pin on his tunic and headed out of the mansion. The guard outside the mansion immediately turned to Rejji as he exited the doorway and appeared as if he would say something, but his eyes saw the pin and he returned to standing guard. Rejji skipped down the steps and headed towards the flock they had passed on the way in yesterday.

  When Rejji reached the flock, Bakhai was leaning over a clova that was bleeding. Rejji saw a burly man over by the fence beating a clova with a large stick. He assumed it was Rymaka.

  “What are you doing?” greeted Rejji.

  Bakhai looked up and frowned, “Rejji. He beats the animals for no reason. I am trying to mend this one. He does not understand them. They are just trying to look for a better pasture. They are all very sick.”

  “Do you know what is causing the sickness?” Rejji asked.

  “I am not sure,” sighed Bakhai. “They do not like the grass, but that is normal for all clova. They always want better grass. That is why they try to get through the fence. I think it may have to do with their water though. They refuse to drink from the trough because they fear Rymaka and he is usually around here. So they drink from a small pond at the edge of the pasture. I suspect that might be the problem, but I am not sure.”

  “Can’t you ask the clova?” quizzed Rejji.

  “I have already done that,” frowned Bakhai. “They do not know anything.”

  “What are you doing here?” scowled Rymaka as he headed towards Rejji. “You don’t belong here.”

  Rejji rose and met Rymaka as the large man stormed towards him. “My apologies,” bowed Rejji. “I am Rejji, slave to Wicado. He asked me to stop by and make sure your new slave was doing what he is supposed to.”

  “And what is he supposed to be doing?” Rymaka bellowed. “I did not request a slave. Does Wicado think I can’t handle my duties?”

  “Certainly not,” smiled Rejji. “The Bursar says you work very hard at maintaining the flock. It was his hope that Bakhai could fill in for you a bit so that you would have time to pursue other things that you might not have time for. I think he meant it as a reward for your conscientious labors.”

  “Really?” asked Rymaka. “I thought Wicado thought poorly of me and was trying to replace me.”

  “No,” Rejji shook his head. “He thinks having clova on the estate was a smart idea. He is sure they will turn a large profit in the future. You will have added greatly to the estate.”

  “Well they were my idea,” beamed Rymaka, “but I really don’t need help.”

  “I can see that you don’t need help with the flock,” replied Rejji, “but perhaps you have other ideas that might make the estate prosper. Tending to the clova all day will not allow you time to think of those ideas and develop them.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Rymaka stated. “I guess I probably do have more smart ideas, I can’t just sit around all day and think of them.”

  “Why not?” Rejji asked. “Is that not what the people in the mansion do? Are not their ideas more important than any labor they can do? You have a slave now to do the labor. Just one more good idea would be much more important than controlling this flock.”

  “You are right,” nodded Rymaka. “It is not worth my time to keep chasing these foul beasts away from the fence. Wicado is very wise. I think I have misjudged him.”

  Rejji shook his head as the oversized shepard headed towards the mansion. He turned to Bakhai and squatted next to him.

  “You have to solve this problem quickly,” urged Rejji. “If he ever finds out I was toying with him, I will be in trouble. You must make it appear that the large oaf has solved the problem, Bakhai. Can you do that?”

  “I do not care anything for credit,” Bakhai declared. “I just want the clova healthy. He may claim it was him for all I care. How long will he be gone?”

  “I am not sure,” frowned Rejji. “He does not appear to be too smart, but if he runs into Wicado there could be trouble. I would hurry. Once people start praising him for the healthy flock, he will not cause trouble for us.”

  Chapter 8

  Pikata

  Rejji and Mistake sat in the communal room of the slave quarters in the Pikata mansion.

  “Wicado has been teaching me a lot about finances,” Rejji said. “It is amazing how all of their decisions are based on money. What crops they are going to plant next year is based on the prices for crops this year. Attitudes towards other clans are based upon whether they are competitors in the marketplace or not. These people don’t do anything unless there is a profit in it.”

  “How has Bakhai made out with the clova?” Mistake asked.

  “He has it solved,” smiled Rejji. “It turns out that they were sick from drinking the pond water. The birds that lived in the trees overhanging the pond were feeding on some type of berry that caused the sickness. He has blocked off access to the pond and the flock is improving rapidly. I think he is enjoying himself.”

  “I don’t understand the two of you,” frowned Mistake. “We have been here for weeks and you two are just settling in. Does it not bother you that these people own you?”

  “Of course it does,” Rejji replied, “but what can we do about it. It is not like we have a choice in the matter. Is it wrong to try and make the best out of our situation?”

  “Yes,” scowled Mistake, “it is wrong. These people have no right to own us. You cannot just accept it and go on with your life. We need to unite and overthrow them, or at least get ourselves out of here. I managed to retrieve our old clothes from the rag pile. I have them safely hidden so when we need them we will not be walking around in these slave clothes.”

  “What about your knives?” Rejji asked.

  “They were still in the bin with the rags,” grinned Mistake. “Nobody has bothered to do anything with the rags yet. We have everything back now. We just need a plan to get off this estate.”

  “They will kill us,” declared Rejji. “Lam says nobody has ever escaped from here.”

  “Lam is an old fool who thinks he is special because he can walk around this mansion freely,” snarled Mistake. “He is still owned, just like you and me. Maybe he would see things differently if he was doing laundry and making beds for these pigs.”

  Mistake was getting a little too loud and Rejji shot a glance towards the watcher to see if he had heard her talking.

  �
�Keep your voice down,” cautioned Rejji. “These people do not need an excuse to discipline us.”

  “You get to go outside,” Mistake continued softly. “I figure our escape will have to occur during the day. There is no chance of getting out of these quarters at night. So you need to find us a place on the estate where we can hide until it gets dark. Maybe a place over where Bakhai works so he will be ready.”

  “Mistake,” urged Rejji, “I don’t like this idea. There are hundreds of warriors on this estate. How far do you actually think we would get? To the road maybe? Do you think they don’t have slaves who keep track of us and would report us missing?”

  “Yes, like Lam,” scowled Mistake.

  “There is probably someone in the women’s quarters too,” sighed Rejji. “Lam is not a bad person. He has been here many years and he has adjusted. He probably would feel very uncomfortable if they freed him. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself.”

  “Rejji,” pleaded Mistake, “you are going to become just like him. Forty years from now you will be him. We have to get out of here. I will not live as somebody’s slave.”

  “I want to be free too, Mistake,” asserted Rejji. “I do not want to die to be free though. Let’s not rush into this. Give me some time to figure out how it can be done. There must be some incentive for them to allow us to go free. I just need to find out what it is.”

  “You are going to try to buy our way out of here,” laughed Mistake. “You can’t be serious. Everything we own belongs to them. It can’t be done.”

  Rejji saw that the watcher was paying closer attention to them and figured it was time for bed.

  “Normally couples meet out here for amorous reasons,” Rejji said. “The watcher is getting suspicious and we dare not call attention to ourselves. Let’s get some sleep and we can talk about this some more tomorrow.”