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Gunta slid to the ground silently and waited for Halman to descend down the rope. When Halman landed they split up and searched the area for hellsouls and then returned to the double strand of rope hanging from the temple balcony. Gunta grabbed one strand of the rope and signaled the others that is was okay to descend. Lord Marak landed softly and drew his sword, paying particular attention to the temperature of the grip. Rejji slid down next, followed closely by Mobi. When they were all on the ground, Gunta pulled the rope, which was looped around a column on the balcony. Halman stood under the rope and caught it as the free end fell. Gunta coiled the rope tightly and tossed it back up on the balcony, so there would be no trace of their leaving.

The group took up the same formation they had used to enter the city, although the street they were traveling on was much narrower. Nothing moved in the still night air and the group padded softly down the street. Nothing detected their stealthy movements and when the street met the wall, they turned to the right and proceeded until they reached the gates. Rejji touched the gates and they swung open. A shriek sounded several blocks up the broad avenue as the gates swung open, but the group was through quickly and Rejji touched the gates to close them.

“So they were watching the way we came,” Marak stated. “That is not a friendly city to visit. I am glad it is behind us.”

Mobi led the group along the trail to the same spot they had slept in before entering the city. The group slept for the remainder of the night and proceeded to the Qubari village the next morning.

The trip from Angragar to the Qubari village was at a more leisurely pace than the sprint Mobi had used to reach the ancient city. For most of the trip, Lord Marak walked alongside Mobi and the native delighted in describing the jungle to the Khadoran. Marak was interested at the vast variety of flora and fascinated by the creatures living in the jungle. At one point, the group stopped to observe a distant Tyrik spinning a web and Rejji related how he had met Mobi.

“If they could not free themselves,” asked Marak, “how were your men able to separate them from the web?”

Mobi grinned and pulled a pair of gloves from a pouch on his belt. He handed them to Lord Marak to inspect.

“The gloves are made from the hairs of the tyrik,” Mobi explained. “It is the same way that the tyrik can move along the web without getting stuck itself. We have boots made from the hairs also. They allow us to climb up the webs.”

Lord Marak handed the gloves back and they continued the journey. Mobi stopped the group later for a meal break. While they were eating, Mobi stepped off into the bushes and returned with a lygrim fruit.

“Do not eat any more than a taste,” warned Mobi. “If you do, you will pay for it the next time we stop.”

Marak bit into the extremely sweet fruit and felt a pulse of energy shoot through him.

“Too sweet to my liking,” smiled Marak, “but I could feel the energy surge with just a small bite.”

“I slept for two days after eating one,” chuckled Rejji.

“This is something I would like to import, Rejji,” stated Lord Marak. “I must remember to ask Dumo if I can have a plant to take with me also.”

“I have actually thought of several things we can export from the jungle,” declared Rejji. “We will talk about it when we return to Ghala.”

They finished up the meal and Mobi led them along the trail. Once again, Marak sought to learn as much from Mobi as he could. When they arrived in the village, Mobi took them straight to the courtyard of the long stone building and then went to fetch Chief Dumo. Dumo entered the courtyard along with Yltar.

“Welcome to the Qubari Jungle, Lord Marak,” greeted Chief Dumo. “You travel in good company.”

“Thank you, Chief Dumo,” replied Marak. “I am proud to travel with your Astor and your well-trained warrior. Thank you for allowing me access to your homeland.”

“If your visit pleases the Astor then it pleases all Qubari,” Dumo smiled. “I have asked Shaman Yltar to join us. He has had a message from Ghala for Rejji.”

“What kind of message?” Rejji asked.

“Ghala was attacked by the Jiadin yesterday,” informed Yltar. “The town has been destroyed, but no villagers were killed. There were some injuries, but nothing serious. Mistake was concerned that you might run into the army on your return and wanted you to be careful.”

“Destroyed?” echoed Rejji. “I thought they might attack eventually, but not so soon. How could this happen so suddenly?”

“She believes there was a traitor in your midst,” continued Yltar. “The braces on the gates were sabotaged and Mistake is sure that the Jiadin knew of this before they attacked.”

“Be thankful that nobody perished in the attack,” comforted Marak. “The buildings are easily replaced, but the people are not. I had wanted to spend some time here, but I think we should return immediately to Ghala. My men can defend the town while it is rebuilt.”

“If the people can be convinced to rebuild it,” Rejji said sadly.

“The people I saw in Ghala were hardy and proud,” smiled Lord Marak. “You have accomplished more than just building a town, Rejji. You have instilled a spirit in your people. You will not have to convince them to rebuild. In fact, I am sure the rebuilding will have already started by the time we return. I don’t think you fully understand the impact you have people. Do not sell them short.”

“Let us have a decent meal before you leave,” suggested Dumo. “It will give us a chance to talk and provide you with the energy for your travels.”

The Qubari laid out a feast for their visitors and Lord Marak had a chance to learn more about the Qubari people. He bonded well with Dumo and Yltar, as he had with Mobi.

“Yltar,” asked Lord Marak, “you are the one who Mistake taught the Air Tunnel, correct?”

“Yes,” nodded the shaman, “it is a wonderful spell and a great gift from your people to ours.”

“Can you contact Fardale with it?” Marak queried.

“Oh yes,” Yltar replied. “I have spoken with one of your mages there. That was my final test. Mistake had to make the link the first time, as I have never been there, but I can do it alone now.”

“Wonderful,” smiled Marak. “I would appreciate it if you would deliver a message for me.”

“Certainly,” responded Yltar.

“I would like to have the mage Klora take all communications from Mistake until I return to Khadora,” Lord Marak said. “If you could deliver that message for me and then ask Mistake to check in with Klora several times a day, I would be very grateful.”

“I will send the message as soon as you leave,” promised Yltar.

The meal ended and everyone could see that Rejji was anxious to return to Ghala, so the party reassembled and set out for the hike to where the Khadoran squad was camped. Mobi picked up the pace and the group sped silently through the jungle until the sky darkened. Mobi selected a clear area to settle in for the night and woke everyone before sunrise. They continued the fast pace of the day before and reached the edge of the jungle around high sun.

“This is where I leave you,” Mobi said. “It was a great honor to walk with the Torak and the Astor and I wish you both to return.”

“I would like that as well,” smiled Lord Marak.

Rejji and the Khadorans exited the jungle and found Botal’s squad alert and waiting for them. Lord Marak informed the squad of the attack on Ghala and the need to return there quickly. He also warned them of the presence of a Jiadin army in the area. The campsite was cleaned in moments and the squad set out for Ghala. They traveled on into the night, until Botal signaled for a silent halt. Lord Marak and Rejji rode forward until they were alongside Botal. They gazed down into a small valley and saw the men sitting around the campfire. Three wagons sat nearby and Lord Marak peered to see what was inside the wagons.

“I know that group,” whispered Rejji as he leaned close to Lord Marak. “Those are the slavers that sold me to the Pikata clan.”