Mobi spread his arms wide and said, “Rest here. You will be summoned later.”
Mistake took the room on the left and Rejji the one on the right. The door was closed as soon as Rejji stepped into the room. The room was small and had a cot, a basin and a chamber pot. Rejji heard the sound of a bolt from the door and knew he had just entered a cell. There was no window and no candle and when the door closed, Rejji had only a mental image of where things were. He walked cautiously in the dark towards the cot and lowered himself onto it. Almost immediately, he felt the energy drain from his body and he drifted off to sleep.
***
Bakhai opened his eyes and looked up into the face of a man wearing a headdress with curved horns protruding out the sides. The man had a ring in each ear and each flaring nostril and piercing blue eyes.
“How do you feel?” the man inquired.
“I am not sure,” Bakhai said. “I feel no pain.”
“And you won’t,” assured the man. “I am Yltar, head shaman of the Qubari. You were severally poisoned by the paran bites. You are lucky to be alive. Who are you?”
“I am Bakhai,” the patient answered.
“And who is Bakhai?” questioned the shaman. “Where are you from? Who are your parents?”
“I do not know,” frowned Bakhai. “I have never known any parents. The animals of the Giaming raised me. That is all I know.”
“Sit up,” ordered Yltar as he walked to a table and retrieved a bowl. He brought the bowl back and handed it to Bakhai. “Eat it,” he instructed. “It will help restore your strength.”
Bakhai sat up and accepted the bowl. He gazed at his hand, which was heavily bandaged in some type of white silk.
“Your hand will be as new in one turn of the sun,” smiled Yltar. “Do not for any reason remove the bandage before that time. Why are you and your people here in the Qubari Jungle?”
“We are heading to the Bone Mountains,” Bakhai explained. “We mean you no harm if that is the concern. Are Rejji and Mistake all right?”
“They are well for now,” Yltar stated. “The Qubari Jungle is forbidden to invaders. The penalty for trespass is death.”
“We are not invaders,” frowned Bakhai. “We seek merely to pass through the jungle, nothing more.”
“Perhaps,” murmured the shaman. “Why did you not just go around as others have done for ages?”
“We could not,” explained Bakhai. “We were being chased by an army of Jiadin warriors. They would kill us if they caught us. The villagers warned us not to enter the jungle, but we really had no choice. We planned to stay just on the edge of the jungle, but we lost our way. We mean you no harm. If you will allow us to leave, we shall do so by the shortest route.”
“Things are not that simple,” sighed Yltar. “Secrecy is essential to our purpose in life. You have broken that veil of secrecy so this has become a matter for the council.”
“We will promise not to tell anyone,” offered Bakhai.
“I am sure you would,” chuckled the shaman. “It would be a rare man who would not make such an offer. You were taken from the web of a tyrik. Do you remember that?”
“Yes,” replied Bakhai. “Even though I was in a weakened state, it is something I shall never forget, no matter how hard I try.”
“I do not doubt that either,” nodded Yltar. “What were you trying to do before you were rescued?”
“Well we tried to get free of course, but that was useless,” responded Bakhai.
“Is that all?” interrogated the shaman. “Think carefully on your answer as I expect you to be totally truthful to me.”
Bakhai had always avoided any mention of his skills since he had found out how the villagers thought him possessed or evil when they discovered he could talk to animals. He looked into the shaman’s eyes and knew that if he lied he would be detected and they would never take his vow of secrecy seriously. That would mean they would not be allowed to leave the jungle alive.
“I tried talking to the tyrik,” admitted Bakhai. “I have never known a tyrik before, but I had to try something. If that failed I would try to imitate one of its predators.”
“What makes you think you could talk to a tyrik?” the shaman pressed.
“I grew up with animals,” stated Bakhai. “I have learned to talk their languages. Had it been an animal I was familiar with, I am sure I would have succeeded, but I have never seen a tyrik before.”
The shaman scratched his neck and paced around the room for some moments before returning to Bakhai.
“People do not learn to speak to animals just by being around them, Bakhai,” the shaman declared. “To be a talker is a gift, a talent that must be discovered and developed. It is only carried in certain bloodlines and all of those bloodlines are Qubari.”
“That can’t be so,” argued Bakhai. “I am not Qubari and have never been here in my life, yet I can talk to the animals. It must be something I learned from growing up with them.”
“Really?” queried Yltar. “Would you be surprised to know that the tyrik understood you? A species you have never see before in your life. The tyrik was about to cut you loose. The Qubari that were there had to rescind your request, because the tyrik would probably have killed you in the process of freeing you. Tyriks are not particularly gentle when they pry things off their web.”
“Why did they save us?” asked Bakhai. “From what you have told me, you are not going to let us go anyway. Wouldn’t it have been easier for them to just let us die there?”
“Very much so,” Yltar said. “Except they recognized you as a talker. They could not allow a talker to die, as all talkers are Qubari.”
“I am confused,” admitted Bakhai.
“I understand your confusion,” smiled Yltar. “You parents, Bakhai, were Qubari. What happened to them, I do not know, but I can guess that they died in those mountains you call home, and you didn’t die. Even more interesting is your development of the talent. Here talkers must undergo a ceremony to unlock their talent. Only the most talented have ever talked before the ceremony. You are a rare individual Bakhai. Welcome home.”
“You mean I am not to die?” asked Bakhai.
“You still must go before the council for judgment,” declared the shaman, “but I am sure you will be fine. There are some here who will greatly welcome your coming home.”
“What of my friends?” questioned Bakhai. “Mistake and Rejji are dear to me. Will they be allowed to go free?”
“That is for the council to decide,” replied Yltar. “I would not get your hopes up for your friends. Trespassing is the most serious of offenses. Get some rest so you are refreshed when you are brought before the council.”
Bakhai waited for the shaman to leave and then reclined and closed his eyes. The shaman’s revelations whirled through his mind, but exhaustion claimed him quickly and he fell asleep.
Noise awakened Bakhai and he bolted upright.
“I am sorry to disturb your rest,” smiled Mobi, “but the council awaits you. Make yourself ready and I will return shortly.”
Bakhai nodded and stretched. He washed in the basin and looked out the window. He shook his head as he saw the first rays of the sun shining around the pyramid. The door opened and Mobi walked in.
“How can the sun be rising?” Bakhai asked. “It was higher in the sky when I went to sleep.”
“You and you friends have slept all day and all night,” grinned Mobi. “You because of your treatment for the paran poison and your friends because of the lygrim fruit they required to reach here. You should be well rested. Come, the council waits.”
Mobi led Bakhai through the building to an open courtyard in its center. At one end of the courtyard was a long table and four elderly men sat behind it. Bakhai recognized Yltar as one of the men. In front of the table were three chairs. Rejji and Mistake sat in two of the chairs and Bakhai was instructed to sit in the third. As soon as Bakhai sat, the man sitting next to the shaman stood.
“I am Dumo, chief of the Qubari,” he announced. “The other council members are Pulom, Yltar, and Anderal. You are here because you have trespassed upon sacred grounds. The penalty for this trespass is death. What do you have to say for yourselves?”