“We can train these villager to survive,” interrupted Bakhai. “Have some of the workers make boats. If the village is attacked, all of the villagers that are not trained to defend can get in the boats and ride into the sea. They only have to go out far enough to take them out of bow range. If the defenders cannot hold back the invaders, then they can also board boats. The worst the Jiadin can do is burn an empty village. We can always rebuild it.”
“That makes good sense, little brother,” brightened Rejji. “That will slow down the amount of people building the dock and warehouse though.”
“So what?” quizzed Mistake. “We do not have to hurry.”
“We do,” insisted Rejji. “The villagers are voting now to take a chance on our plan. We are asking them to give us their labors now in return for food later. In the meantime, they are not fishing for food. There is also the potential that their attitude will change if we run into problems or it takes too long. We need to get Lord Marak to send a small shipment before the dock is complete.”
“I am sure he would be willing to do that,” replied Mistake. “We have gold to pay him.”
“Plenty of gold,” chuckled Bakhai. “How will we offload the cargo without the dock though?”
“That is why I wanted to look at the river,” answered Rejji. “I think we should build a smaller dock here first. It will be easier to build than one that extends into the sea.”
“What about people like Riktor who think the boats foul the river?” asked Bakhai. “Won’t this plan make them upset?”
“No,” Rejji shook his head. “Lord Marak’s boats will never be pulled out of the water, so they will not stir the bottom of the river. It will be fine.”
“If they accept your plan,” said Mistake.
“They will accept it,” smiled Rejji. “It will be our job to make sure they stay happy after accepting it. Contact Lord Marak tonight. Bring him up to date on our travels and ask him to send a ship with food and tools for building as soon as possible.”
“The meeting has broken up,” Bakhai said.
“Let’s go hear their reply to our proposition,” stated Rejji as he turned and walked towards the center of the village.
“Rejji,” greeted Plesy, “we have a question to ask. There are some in the village who have friends and family who live outside the village. The villagers want me to ask you if those people can also work on the project and get paid with food.”
“We will welcome anyone who wants to help,” nodded Rejji. “The offer will stand for all. They can camp here while the construction is going on, or come to the village each day. Whatever they want is acceptable to me.”
“If news of this offer should spread,” warned Plesy, “you may have more workers than you can use.”
“We can never have too many workers,” smiled Rejji. “I invite the villagers to spread the word near and far to anyone they want to. My offer is good to all and I will honor my offer.”
“Then as spokesman for the village of Ghala,” beamed Plesy, “we accept your offer. When do we start?”
“Tomorrow is soon enough,” Rejji stated. “The first thing we are going to need is lumber. I would like to build a small dock on the river as our first project. It will allow us to get supplies while we build the larger dock and warehouse. If you have runners you wish to send out to family and friends, you should do that as well. Let us go sit down and we can draw up a list of tools that you think we will need.”
Plesy led Rejji to the benches that the old men had been sitting on when they met. Bakhai and Mistake joined them and soon the villagers began to crowd around as well. Enthusiasm was high among the villagers and suggestions flew back and forth. Within an hour, Rejji had a long list of tools and supplies that villagers thought they would need. Mistake excused herself when the talk turned to far-flung friends and relatives who should be notified of the opportunity.
Women of the village brought food to the center of the village and the whole planning meeting acquired a festive atmosphere. Rejji smiled as he saw the happy faces of the villagers. After the sun had faded away, Mistake returned and pulled Rejji away from the group.
“Lord Marak wants to see the mural,” Mistake said softly. “He is planning on coming here.”
“When?” questioned Rejji.
“He cannot make the first ship,” Mistake explained. “He will try to make the second one. He wants to know if he needs to bring a squad of Torak soldiers with him, or just the two he normally travels with.”
“I hesitate to have the villagers see armed soldiers getting off the ship,” frowned Rejji. “It might spook them.”
“I think it may reassure them that we have friends we can call upon,” Mistake said. “Plus the Jiadin army may still be hanging around.”
Rejji nodded and stared at the ground for a moment before answering, “Have him bring the squad, but advise him of my concerns and tell him that the squad may not be allowed to enter the jungle with him. Also warn him as explicitly as possible about the dangers he will face in Angragar. I do not want him surprised by the hellsouls.”
“Are you really willing to go back there?” asked Mistake
“Yes,” declared Rejji. “Lord Marak has a right to see it and only I can open the gates. You and Bakhai can remain here and keep the building project going.”
“Why not take the squad with you?” quizzed Mistake. “it would be safer and I am sure the Qubari would not deny you the right to bring them along.”
“You are right about the Qubari,” nodded Rejji, “but I feel that the less people exposed to the jungle the better. Dumo will allow me anything, but I will still respect his desire for secrecy. I also do not want a large group that will attract more attention inside the ancient city. I will allow Lord Marak his two guards. That will expose only four us to danger.”
Chapter 27
Marak
Brakas eyed the unfinished stockade wall as he approached the town. A dozen men were sawing lumber, erecting vertical beams, and nailing them to the crossbeams. He rode through the large hole in the wall, which was reserved for the future gates. Brakas gazed around the town in wonder. The last time he had been here, this place was a little sleepy fishing village. Now there was construction everywhere. The new huts were obvious with their walls yet to be weathered. Off to the side of the huts was a large group of tents, sort of reminiscent of an army encampment, but instead of soldiers, families, complete with women doing laundry and children playing, occupied the tents.
He spied a corral with a few horses inside and headed towards it. With no attendant in sight, Brakas dismounted and tied his reins to the rail of the corral. He started walking towards the town center while observing all of the construction taking place. The rumors had been true, he mused to himself; Ghala was on its way to becoming Fakara’s first city. He racked his brain trying to remember which tribe claimed this area, but he came up empty.
Many people waved to him as he passed, and he waved back. Off to his left, he saw the small hulls of freshly made boats, and women stitching new sails. On his right was a group of men sawing large logs to provide fresh lumber. The tools looked new and still held the shine of something just purchased. He saw smoke rising into the air and turned to investigate it. He shook his head in amazement as he spied a large furnace with a dozen men scurrying around it, but the framework of a very large building beyond the furnace immediately drew him towards it.
He veered around the furnace and headed towards the large framework. His eyes roamed as he walked and he saw a new dock along the riverbank, a dock too large to be used for the fishing vessels he had seen being made. As he approached the large framework, he saw dozens of men working on it. He spied a small group of men standing and talking near the framework and he came to a halt. He peered closely at the small group of men and his mouth hung open. He shook his head and marched towards the group with a broad smile on his face.