----------------------------------------

Kalon

----------------------------------------

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Danak ta Hul

Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant

Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation

Solar System: D-447

Planet: Ora

Location: Beneath the planet's surface, Naro City, Yul Clan Chief's private quarters

----------------------------------------

“Is there anything you wish to tell me?” Nekam asks. His eyes pierce me.

My breath falters for a moment, his directness catches me off guard. Does he know? Or does he just suspect? Will he slay me? Sell me? There is too much that is uncertain.

“My chief…” I begin.

“When I first took you in as a boy, do you remember what I told you?” Nekam asks, leaning forward.

My pulse quickens, there are many things he has said. However, I believe I know of which he speaks.

“Truth and obedience are all you require,” I say.

He nods to me, pouring water into a cup and moving it towards me. An offering of peace among our people. Trust is a fickle thing when dealing with one's blood. One can never know what a person will do to protect those they care for. Barnak was undone by his own blood. I cannot help but wonder if my chief will also be. He pours another cup for himself and looks at me sternly until I grasp my cup.

“Danak ta Hul,” Nekam says raising the cup and taking a drink.

“Danak ta Hul.” I respond, taking a drink.

Its meaning is complex yet simple, Let only Truth Remain. It is said that drinking water together while swearing this oath can wash away the lies the tongue might wish to speak. As I drink the water, it does not wash away the fear. The Sage often spoke of truth, his words play in my mind.

Truth is the foundation of trust

My hand tightens on my cup. My eyes slowly meet his as I flex my jaw, mustering the courage to speak my truth. I must hope that he is better than Barnak and so many others I have seen.

“Your son tried to kill me, my chief,” I say.

He does not flinch or change his face, but he leans back, resting against the chair. His eyes tell me to continue, even if his ears do not wish to hear this truth.

“He was the only one who touched the device after I inspected it that morning. I am sure of it, my chief.”

“Who else have you told this to?” Nekam asks me, his eyes taking measure in mine.

“No one, my chief,” I say.

“Not even Arrum?” he asks me, the corner of his eyes wrinkling as he focuses on my reactions.

“No, my chief.”

I was afraid of what Arrum might do, afraid that he might kill his own blood. Such a stigma is not easily washed among my people. Besides, if he were to act out, he would not be able to be with Isola. I cannot take that from him, nor will I let Neeba’s treachery.

“You were wise to say nothing.” Nekam begins, leaning his head down and rubbing his temples.

My heart pounds in my chest as the anxiety rises. Should I have told him? What will he do? The silence is deafening. He looks like he is about to speak finally when a pounding sounds on the door. Nekam’s jaw flexes for a moment.

“Enter.” He says loudly.

Blood drips to the floor as a man I recognize enters. It is Yuri, one of the chiefs of our Clan. The one who gave warriors to help the expedition to get Etherium in the mines. My eyes trace him quickly, the blood does not appear to be his. Nekam rises to his feet, moving to Yuri swiftly to inspect him as well.

“What happened? Who did this?” Nekam asks.

“My chief, the Junuk Clan has declared war on us,” Yuri says, his breath is labored.

War? So soon after he has become Clan Chief? This will sow dissent among the other tribes if he does not resolve it quickly. The peace is already fragile. Some may leave hearing there is war. Nekam has not produced the results he promised yet with salvage either.

“Why?” Nekam asks, his jaw flexes as he does.

“Barnak’s blooded tribes, they have betrayed us and joined them.” Yuri says, holding his bloody hands up “They ambushed us, killing twenty, we barely managed to return. The expedition team, they took them as well. All of them.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Sekat!” Nekam curses slamming his hand against the metal wall. His eyes close for a moment as he breathes deeply, the calm returns when his eyes open “We make ready, call the other tribe chiefs, we do not wait for them to come. We march.”

My heart sinks, the brothers were on the expedition team, and there is no love for them with Barnak’s old tribes. Henek and his cousins will slay them, or sell them. I do not know which is a worse fate. Guilt in me rises. Their blood is on my hands now. My eyes lower now, Arrum will not get Etherium. Others of higher standing will need it before the day is over, this much is sure. We only have the Clan shard left. Even if other tribes have hidden stores, they will not give them for an Ulima. Everything is falling apart. Despair begins to sink its claws into me.

“Understood, my chief,” Yuri says, giving a bow and leaving.

“Leave me,” Nekam says to me without so much as a glance.

After making my way to my bunk, I take up my blades and begin sharpening them. Blood will flow this night. My eyes look to Arrum, I must make sure it is not his. If we lose, they will surely use him in the mines.

“What are you doing?” Nevari asks me as she approaches.

My hands glide quickly across the blade as I test its sharpness.

“War approaches,” I say.

Her eyes widen, she does not speak for a few moments, she turns her gaze towards the Clan Chief’s quarters.

“You are not fit to fight.” She says to me, grabbing the hand that sharpens and holding it in place.

“I will not sit idly while others die,” I say, it is not that I am being brave, but if I do not fight, especially after what I have told her father, my death will surely follow. It was stupid to tell him. Regret rises. How will he trust me to fight alongside Neeba now? He will not risk it. Should I take Arrum and leave? No, I cannot help Arrum, he needs Maka still. Something I cannot easily give him.

Before Nevari can say anything against it, her father’s voice booms across the Clan hall.

“Prepare for battle!”

Eyes hollow as they hear his words, there is fear in the hearts of those who gather to his call. All are weary from the journeys on the surface. There are whispers in the crowd, murmurings of despair. Nekam’s expression bears the calm, but I know beneath the surface there is tension.

***

Three hours have passed since Yuri warned of war. Since then, all the tribe chiefs save three have arrived. Barnak’s blooded tribes. Nekam speaks with the chiefs in his private quarters. Tension is high in the air. The hall is filled with children and those unable to fight. They make ready for the injured with supplies and mats already laid out. Outside the Clan hall, there is an army of more than three thousand that line the walkways of the outer city, waiting for the order to march.

Nevari’s grandmother has forbidden me to join them, saying I am not yet ready to fight. Pretending to heed her, I agreed. When the rest leave to join the army, I will be in their shadow. I must march with them, for Arrum’s sake. The other Clan must have Etherium if they are being so brazen to attack like this. Perhaps they got it from our expedition group. My jaw flexes thinking on the brothers.

My body stretches to make itself limber. My blade’s now sharp enough to cut through gaps in the other Clan’s armor. My mind hardens itself to what approaches. The damaged core rolls around in my palm as I pace back and forth. It is forbidden to use energy weapons aside from maintaining order in one’s own Clan, but there is technically no law against using the broken cores from our laser cutters. An Ulima must use whatever they can, whenever they can.

Nekam moves with a swift stride as he and the other chiefs exit his chambers. They are painted for war, and adorned in armor and weapons. Their eyes hollowed for what will come. As they move by, I grasp Arrum’s shoulder, placing one more cold rag upon his brow before I walk in the shadow of those who depart. Covering my face now with a war mask. Matching my stride with the others, I make to exit the Clan hall. A hand grasps my shoulder armor firmly. My heart beats as I turn and see who it is.

“I said that you are not to fight,” Nevari’s grandmother says, her grip does not loosen.

“I am able-bodied.” I protest.

A strike to my abdomen sends me to my knees. Pain fills me as I feel my wound open. My head tilts to look up, it is Nekam who struck me.

“No one doubts your abilities, but in your condition, you will get others killed.” He says, his voice is stern “Help tend the wounded when they come.”

“Understood, my chief,” I say through my teeth. My stomach roars in pain. My pride falls to the floor. Am I this weak? Will I only be a burden? How will I help Arrum now?

“We march!” Nekam yells to the others as they leave the Clan hall.

The door closes behind them, leaving me with those unfit to fight. Frustration fills me over my own weakness. If only I had checked the device again, if only I had… no. Despairing will not help me, nor Arrum. I need to focus on the task, being useful to the healers. Begrudgingly I remove my armor, put my knives in my boots, and seek out Nevari’s grandmother. Giving her a bow when I reach her.

“How may I best serve the Clan?” I ask.

She looks at me, giving me a warm smile.

“You are trained in healing?” she asks.

“Some,” I say, remembering the lessons of the Sage. He made Arrum and I study many things as children. Most had no practical use, but we wanted to impress him. So we became versed in it anyway.

“Good, go with them when it is time.” She says, pointing to a group of older women “For now, tend to Arrum.”

***

No word has come for nearly an hour. No wounded to speak of. The guilt for being wounded rises. I should be out there with them, fighting for our Clan, looking for a way to save Arrum. The fastest way for someone to remove the stain of Ulima on their name is to prove themselves in battle. Even Nekam would not hold us down if we proved ourselves for all to see. My fists clench. Neeba has robbed Arrum and the brothers of this opportunity. There is a darkness growing in me, one that wishes to see Neeba pay for his crimes against us. My Blade sings for him a song meant for the dead. Regret that I told his father rises in me. I should have found Neeba in the night, I should have run him through.

“Kada.” A voice says weakly to me. My eyes turn and I see it is Arrum speaking, calling me brother in the old tongue “What is happening?”

His eyes bear crimson still as they look into mine. It gladdens my heart to see he is awake.

“War,” I say.

His eyes widen as he sits up from the bunk, pulling his feet off the edge.

“Why are we here?” Arrum asks, clutching his side as he tries to stand “We must go fight.”

“You are in no condition to fight,” I say to him, pressing him to lay down again.

“My hand can hold a blade, this is all I need.” He protests.

My teeth grit, I feel the same way as him, but seeing him as he is, makes me realize they are right to stop us. Arrum would not be helpful this injured. Nor would I.

“This is our chance,” Arrum says, pleading to me, the crimson rolls in his grey eyes, and the dark webbing on his neck tells me that he is still too unwell.

“Kada, no,” I say. Though I am weakened, my grasp is enough to press him down.

“How will I ever rise to meet her otherwise,” Arrum asks, biting his lip. I can see the frustration rise in him. He speaks of the woman he loves, Isola.

Guilt rises higher in me, remembering that it is my fault he cannot wed her yet. Today is the best chance we have had in years to earn a place. Curse Neeba. If the gods were real, I would curse them too. The door of the clan hall opening draws my attention.

Screams that chill the bone follow.