Just like mother used to wear, eh Jafra? Were you hoping to stay my hand once again? Well, it won’t work this time. I won't be soft now. I'll have my revenge. For everything you’ve inflicted on me. For all the pain you’ve caused. For everything you’ve taken!
He’s less than three paces behind now as Jafra descends into a dell. Stunned at the exquisite nature of the setting she’s handed him, Grak pauses to enjoy it for a moment.
Yes, that’s an excellent location. At the bottom there, under the fallen tree. No one would find her. Who would think to dig in a spot like tha—?
He ducks behind a large rock, hoping he wasn’t spotted. Someone is moving around down there, though Grak can’t tell who it is. All he can see from this distance is a scrawny human form.
No! You weren’t fast enough! How could you, Grak? You forgot about the strangers!
He takes a deep breath.
Calm, Grak. It’s alright. Just wait until she’s finished. Then you can get her. No need to change your plans. She won’t be here all night. And neither will they.
He leans against the rock, focusing great effort on patience. This proves even more challenging due to the snippets of Jafra’s words carried by the wind. Her voice taunts him. Irritates him. Then he realizes something.
You know, it might be beneficial to hear what she’s planning. She’ll be gone, sure, but whatever she’s set in motion will linger. Just seems wise to have advance warning of it. Might even be able to stop her scheme altogether.
It’s decided, then. Grak creeps forward, darting from cover to cover on the sparse slope. Finally, he stops behind a wide tree to catch his breath and listen.
Jafra’s voice is obvious enough, but the other one also carries an eerie familiarity. It’s not Kunthar’s, though—Grak is certain of that. It doesn’t even have the throatiness of the strangers’ words.
Who, then?
Curiosity soon wins out, and he cautiously peeks around the tree. But he wasn’t expecting this. He’s forced to bite back a gasp at the sight. What Jafra brought from her tent was food, and she’s handing it to someone. More importantly, Grak now has a clear view of who she’s handing it to.
Lago …
13 - And Her Devious Schemes
Grak has always categorized Jafra’s schemes as “acts of depravity nearly as heinous as their creator.” And those schemes take on an even greater degree of villainy when they’re as mysterious as her dealings with Lago last night.
What in all the land could that poisonous woman be up to?
While he was able to hear everything the two discussed, nothing of importance came out.
Or perhaps they used signals. Or a code of some sort. Hmm, probably so. A devious mixture of the two, I imagine. Just in case anyone happened upon their secret meeting.
Grak both applauds and loathes such a crafty system.
No matter, though. Neither of those traitors will be around much longer. If I can manage this with subtlety. And without casting myself into a poor light at the same time. Can’t risk more tension with the council. Or the tribe.
After careful deliberation, Grak decided not to follow through on “the Jafra strike” last night. And he's not ashamed to admit that a portion of his reasoning had to do with hesitation. He just didn't feel comfortable leaving the safety of his cover while Lago was still awake.
If he had seen me, who knows what might have happened? Would he have attacked? Quite likely. After all, he’s been living like a wild beast for some time now. And he looked a bit too wiry and unpredictable for my liking. I’m not risking my life trying to take him on in a fight, that’s for sure.
Though, truth be told, Grak has never had to fight for his life. He’s not even sure what that would entail. Nonetheless, he’d rather not find out if he’s up to the challenge.
I’m sure I’d do just fine. Really. But why bother when I have a better plan in mind?
It’s true. The other part of Grak’s rationale for abandoning “the Jafra strike” was due to having forged a superior plan. In fact, he considers this the main reason, even though he didn't form this better strategy until today.
But it was in my head last night. I’m sure of it. Just didn’t realize it because of weariness. I was rather tired, after all. And plans are better conceived after a good night’s rest.
Though, in all honesty, it was a fitful slumber with dreams of the fervent sort. The kind that arise when thinking too much about work just before drifting off.
Grak feels a yawn coming and gives in to it emphatically. He checks to see if the other man noticed.
Nope. He’s still rambling on. Though if he continues at this pace, I’ll have no choice but to nap while I wait. And I’m sure he’d notice that.
Not that I’d mind, of course. Let him notice, and let him get upset. The rest would be far more useful than his support. Perhaps I’d even conjure a better idea after waking.
Ah, but the matter is far too urgent, isn’t it? A shame. Don’t suppose I have any other choice then.
“So?” interrupts Grak. “What’s your answer? Will you do it?”
Brak scratches his head again. And once more. Grak never noticed before, but the man does that far more often than propriety allows.
Perhaps that’s the source of his baldness. Remember to limit head scratches, Grak. Remember to limit head scratches. Remember to limit head scratches.
Brak finally speaks. “I don’t know, Grak. Sounds risky. This seems more like a task for Doran. Have you asked him to do it?”
Grak rolls his eyes.
What a fool. What a bald, timid fool. Why must I always prod him to take initiative? Just once, it’d be nice to see a little more action and a little less hesitation.
Grak stifles his frustration. “No, that’s not possible. Doran’s in poor favor right now. Few in camp trust him after his ‘map whipping’ policy. And I thought of Kando too, but he’s in a comparable situation. They’re practically one and the same.
“I even thought of Groka, but I doubt she’d back me at this point. She’s literally sucking at Jafra’s teat.”
“Practically.”
“What?”
“You said ‘literally,’ but the correct word there would be ‘practically.’”
“Ah, yes.” Grak considers revealing more of last night’s events, but thinks better of it. “Practically.”
He looks around awkwardly, then continues. “And I’ve thought of every possibility. Truly. But who else can I trust at this point? Except Frolan, of course, but that would be the same as if I revealed the information. She’s a sly one, that Jafra. She would just say I ordered him to lie—told him what to say as a means of slandering her.”
Brak nods in thought. “Oh. I see. I suppose. But then wouldn’t she be able to say that about me?”
“No. Our connection isn’t as close as what I have with Frolan. That’s the beauty of it. You simply run errands for me and do the menial tasks I can’t get anyone else to do.
“Whereas Frolan … well he’s practically my right hand. He handles matters I wouldn’t trust to anyone else. And it’s not just work. We eat and drink together on a regular basis. And …” Grak stops there, sensing a growing frustration in the other man.
“And why don’t we do those things?” pouts Brak. “And why don’t I have greater responsibilities? I could be just as useful as Frolan. Maybe I’m not as large, but I could handle matters that don’t require size.”
Grak cradles Brak’s cheek. “Sweet, simple, Brak. We’ve gone over this before. It’s only because of our people. They just don’t think very highly of bald men. More than bald women, sure, but not by much. I would love to give you greater responsibility, but first we have to get your hair to grow in.”
Brak takes that far worse than expected. “But I can’t do anything about my baldness! And besides, it’s never hindered me. I’m just as capable as anyone else.”
Grak puts on the most empathetic demeanor he can muster. “I know that. Ob
viously. That’s why I have you at my side, sweet Brak. But it’s hard to change the tribe’s mind. You’ve seen that first hand, haven’t you?”
Brak shrugs. “I suppose.”
“And I aim to prove them wrong, Brak, my friend.” An idea pops to mind. “And that’s why I’m offering you this opportunity. I want to show the tribe that you matter.”
Brak shakes his head in sorrow and disbelief. “But I always mattered before. I had friends. And influence. It’s only when I became cook and your servant that I lost all of that. I didn’t even know what I had until it was gone.”
“And you’ll have it once again, Brak. You will!”
“How? As long as I’m your servant, what respect does it grant me? I need more than that.”
“Absolutely.” Grak thinks quickly. “Actually, I was just thinking the other day that you would do very well in overseeing the tribe’s horses.”
Brak looks offended now. “Wha … why would I want to do that? And how would it improve my respect among our people? No, Grak. I want to be on the council.”
Grak is surprised by that demand. “Well, look, Brak. There are already nine, and you know how I feel about te—”
“You alone have the power to do this, Grak!” Brak’s anger is showing now. “My wife is on the council, and all I do is clean your trousers of the previous night’s meal. It’s a disgrace! I won’t have it any longer!” He calms slightly. “Appoint me to the council, and I’ll do this task for you.”
Grak frowns. It seems he has no other option if he wants Brak’s help here.
Ten, though. Not ideal. Sure, it’s a simple number, but what other claims does it have? Nothing but pomp and bluster. Best to keep it at nine.
“Then I’d have to get rid of someone.” Grak can think of several deserving candidates, but would prefer the idea come from Brak. “Who would you suggest I remove?”
The bald man shrugs. “Well, I don’t know. Maybe Kando? If the tribe is so suspicious of him.”
Grak rolls his eyes. This isn’t going the way he wanted. “No, he’s too useful.”
He checks his shadow. Time is too precious to let Brak slowly deliberate through the other eight. Grak decides to push things in the desired direction.
“And Olive Thirteen and Loren are even more valuable. Cordo, Ruch, and Zacha would be at the top of my list, but it would likely cause significant unrest if I removed them. Aza and Sabo could go, but they’ve recently started to come to their senses and might still be salvageable.” He pauses. “Sooo … who does that leave?”
Brak scratches his head for a moment. “Well, that only leaves Groka. But she’s always been so kind to me. I’d hate to take her place.”
Grak is getting annoyed with the man’s indecisiveness. “Well, that’s the only solution we have here, Brak. Do this task for me, and you can replace Groka on the council. Either that or quit whining about your responsibilities. Besides, if she were in your situation, I’m sure she’d do the same.”
Brak hesitates. “Well … I suppose you’re right.” He ponders the idea for a long moment. “Alright, I’ll do it.”
Grak makes no effort to hide his smile. “Good. Let’s get to work then. The council will meet momentarily. And we usually take our first break soon after. Watch for it and be ready.”
Grak attempts a relaxed pose as he chats with Aza. But despite sincere effort, the proper way to casually situate one’s hands is still eluding him. He’s already on his third try: an awkward, crossed-arm approach that feels too high up the chest to be deemed “easygoing.”
Around him, the council is spread out in several pockets, conversing among themselves. As usual, most of Frolan’s security team is surrounding them, keeping a vigilant eye out for danger. Two of those guards are occupied with Brak, asking questions too quiet for Grak to hear. Finally, Frolan takes an interest and approaches. He asks several questions of his own, then nods, and the other guards step out of the way so the man can pass.
It’s about time! What took that fool so long?
Aza rambles on. “So, this is why I think we should reorder the tents in a gri—”
“Quiet.” Grak makes no apologies for cutting her off. “What’s Brak talking about?”
Aza turns in bewilderment. “Well, it appears he isn’t talking about anything.”
True enough. Brak is just standing there, turning in slow circles, looking at the faces of the council around him.
Grak rolls his eyes. “Yes, but it looks like he’s trying to say something.” He raises his voice loud enough for the whole council to hear. “What is it, Brak? Are you in trouble?”
The buffoon can’t even speak without assistance. And he wants to be on my council? Unbelievable!
Brak gives a slight nod and convinces his jaw to move. “Yes. I mean, no. It’s just … well, I have something to report.” He pauses for a moment until Grak’s impatient look prods him on again. “I saw something last night. And I didn’t know what to do about it.” He’s beginning to loosen up a bit. “But after careful thought, I decided the council should know.”
Cordo takes the bait. “What did you see, Brak?”
“It’s Jafra … I saw her last night … in compromising actions. Dangerous actions, even.”
“Wha … what do you mean?” Groka’s response is skittish at best, though the trained observer would identify sheer panic.
Cordo adds to that. “Yes, out with it, man. What was so dangerous about her actions?”
Brak gathers his words. “I saw her in the woods last night. She was bringing food to Lago. I think the two are planning something. I fear it may already be too late to stop them.”
Most of the council gasps in shock. Cordo remains silent, but appears troubled on a different level; even his mole is drooping in a defeated manner. Groka, on the other hand, simply mumbles something to herself and settles into a deeper sort of worry.
She rushes to speak before anyone else can. “How do you know her actions were traitorous? What if she’s simply caring for the man?” She looks about nervously.
Grak had planned on letting Brak do all the talking, but he can’t help himself. “Is that any better? The old fool tried to poison us all. If she’s feeding him, then she’s practically approving of his actions.”
Groka’s response is instant. “What if he didn’t do it, though? What if that was all just a coincidence?”
Kando grows suspicious. “Sounds to me like you’re sympathetic toward perfidy. Is that true, Groka?”
The accusation makes her nervous. “No, not at all. It’s just … well, I thou—”
“As much as I hate to admit it,” interrupts Grak, “I agree with Brak on this one. If Jafra’s feeding the traitor, that’s dangerous news. No matter how innocent she may claim to be.”
“Well … maybe …” Groka thinks fervently. “But we don’t know if he even actually saw Lago.”
Brak grows indignant. “Are you calling me a liar?”
She seems genuinely surprised by that. “No, not at all. But how do you know what you saw? It was dark, after all. And you were out in the woods … Wait, what were you doing out in the woods?” Accusation floods her tone.
“I … well …” He looks to Grak.
The fool! He’ll give it away if he looks to me for his answers! Think quickly, Grak.
He does. “Yes, what were you doing out in the woods, Brak?” That should deflect any blame.
“I … well …” Brak is sweating now, looking about like a newly orphaned pup.
Still, Grak needs the man’s story to work. “Oh, I apologize. Were you out there fetching the berries I asked for?” He looks around at the council. “I asked him to find some blackberries, but since his regular duties kept him busy all day, he was only able to go out at night.”
Brak breathes a sigh of relief. “Yes. That was it. I’m sorry I couldn’t find any.”
Grak puts on his merciful tone. “Well, normally I wouldn’t stand for it.” He switches to commanding. “B
ut in this instance we have a greater concern. Given Lago’s past transgressions, this can only be considered ‘immediate danger.’”
Grak pauses for exactly three breaths. “It pains my heart to do this, but I must. For the safety of the tribe. Frolan, find Jafra and apprehend her.” His voice seems to be gaining enthusiasm of its own accord. He mellows it out for appearances. “We’ll need something worse than a whipping for this offense. Any ideas?” Much better.
Cordo raises his hands in a halting gesture. “Wait a moment, now. This is all a bit too fast. And you’re a bit too eager to jump behind this story, Grak. We still haven’t answered the question about the darkness last night. We can’t be sure you saw Lago out there, Brak. We trust you and all, but how can you even be sure you saw him?”
Brak considers this for a moment. He looks to Grak.
Grak rubs his brow, hoping to calm the steadily rising frustration. “Well, I believe you, Brak. And confirming your story seems a simple matter to me. Just take us to where you saw the traitor. Problem solved. Then we can get on with the required discipline. I think we should discuss possible punishments as we walk, though. Just so we’re ready to take action.” He has something in mind, but would prefer if it came from one of them.
The council seems fairly accepting of that idea. They all nod readily. Except Groka, of course.
No matter. She can’t stop this now.
Grak gestures toward the west woods. “After you, Brak.”
The man looks uncertain. He walks forward cautiously, looking back at Grak repeatedly.
The fool! Although, I suppose it would be best to show him the way.
Grak leaps to the rescue once more. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of Lago, Brak.” He coats his voice with concern. “Well, I suppose that’s understandable. After all, he did try to kill everyone. I’ll walk with you, then. To protect you.”
Groka is flummoxed. “I’m just saying I don’t see why execution would be in order. And public shaming and torture first? And how is it even feasible to order the tribe to forget she existed? And how is any of that warranted? Jafra certainly didn’t try to poison anyone. Even if we find Lago ahead as Brak suggests, that only means she was feeding the man. A former member of our tribe. That’s all.”
Things Grak Hates Page 21
