For a month or possibly six weeks, No Man’s Land was devoid of the presence of the Carja.

They began to taste the hope that they had finally driven the raiders from the west.

But the Carja were not done and their next assault was devastating.

They were at the northern tip of the lake in No Man’s Land, replenishing their water when Arakko looked up.

“Did you hear that?” He asked.

The others listened carefully.

“Sounds like machines screaming…a Longleg and…well I thought I heard a Longleg but it stopped.”

“What’s that rat a rat a rat a rat noise?” Alaika wondered.

“Ravager cannon?” Jayko looked at Kotallo. “There aren’t any Ravager sites near here.”

Kotallo shrugged and stood up just as a herd of Grazers bolted over the rise on the other side of the lake. They were running and screaming, some tumbling over, snapping sinews and legs, breaking necks in their haste to get away from what was chasing them.

“A Thunderjaw gone rogue?”

Following the Grazers were Charges but even they were being struck down, riddled with damage, machine fluid staining the ground and yet the sound of weapon fire continued.

Then, over the rise, marched a Carja war party at least twenty soldiers strong. Kotallo’s mouth fell open at the sight of so many, all clad in heavy armour and, at the front were three raiders with Ravager cannons on their hips, laying down fire as they walked.

Jayko swore as they watched the Carja slice apart the machines, walking over their carcases.

“Get down.” Arakko hissed and they flattened into the reeds by the lake’s edge. “Don’t move.”

Kotallo pressed his face into the mud. They could hear the footsteps of the Carja marching closer and closer, separated only by the narrow point of the lake.

“I’d call that a successful field test, wouldn’t you?” A Carja officer laughed. “Let’s see those blasted Tenakth stand up against Walking Fire.”

“I can’t wait to riddle that Utaru settlement full of holes.” Another said with a voice like venom. “They hide up there, thinking they’re safe from us…this beauty will punch holes in every last one of them.”

“We’ll send one down the south, one to the north and this baby will cut straight down the centre.”

“We have to warn the Utaru and the Tenakth.” Alaika whispered.

“We’ll wait until they go past and head for Arrowhand…”

“Hey…what’s that?”

They stiffened in the reeds as Carja boots splashed in the edge of the lake.

“Is that a water pouch?”

Arakko ground his teeth and swore under his breath.

“We might not be alone out here. Spread out…if the Utaru or especially the Tenakth get wind of Walking Fire…Jiran will skin us alive and then throw us in the Sun Ring.”

The Carja footsteps began to come closer and closer.

They were mere metres away from coming upon them and their poor hiding place.

“Kotallo,” he looked at Arakko’s whose face was pale beneath his Sky Clan colours, “get word to Hekarro about this…and take care of my sister.”

“No.” Kotallo tried to lunge out to grab him but Arakko was already on his feet, sprinting faster than he had ever run before.

Alaika’s cry of despair was lost in the Carja’s screams of fury and they bolted after Arakko. Jayko began to shuffle backwards.

“Alaika, we have to go!” He urged even as they heard the Walking Fire slice through the air.

“My brother…Arakko.” She sobbed.

“Kotallo.” Jayko pleaded.

Kotallo’s jaw was like metal. “We have to go.” He snarled and forced himself to shuffle and slide backwards, fighting the instinct to chase after Arakko. When they were barely a safe distance away they stood up to the sound of a devastating howl over the top of Ravager cannon fire.

“Arakko…” Alaika clutched at her chest. “No!”

They bolted without direction leaving anything behind that would slow them down. Alaika was inconsolable. She was doubled over with grief and more emotional than they had ever seen her before. Her cries tore at Kotallo and Jayko’s souls like no weapon had ever done.

“We can’t run all the way to Arrowhand.” Jayko heaved, half collapsed on a rock.

Kotallo, putting his grief into a box and shutting the lid, looked around, taking a moment to logically think things through.

“There is a Utaru settlement close by,” he pointed to a curl of smoke, “we will make for that.”

“You think they’d hear us out?” Jayko demanded.

“I think when we tell them about Walking Fire, they will listen.” Kotallo put Alaika’s arm over his shoulder and half carried her to the settlement. The Utaru at the entrance, though terrified, barred their entrance.

“Please…we have come to warn you about the Carja…and their weapon.” Jayko insisted.

The guards looked at each other.

“We don’t have to like each other,” Kotallo said darkly, “but the Carja are our common enemy…and we lost one of our own that we could warn you.”

“Let them in.” An older woman said from behind the guards. “Goodness knows we have enough enemies in the Carja without adding the Tenakth to that list. Please, come…your friend must sit by the fire. She is cold through.”

The Utaru skirted around them as they were taken to the campfire, Alaika slumping to the ground while Kotallo and Jayko barely managed to sit without falling over.

“Her lover?” The woman asked.

“Her brother and twin.” Kotallo said tightly, his throat closed over.

“Almost as bad.” She knelt by Alaika and stroked her hair tenderly. “Do not let the sorrow take root. Cry it away…” She stood up, her knees cracking. “I will fetch you some gruel.” A young man approached and she put her hand on his shoulder. “This is my grandson, Nova. He is our fastest runner. Tell him what you saw and he will get word to Plainsong but as for your people…”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“We will head out in the morning.” Jayko swallowed. “Maybe…we can save a few lives.”

The gruel tasted like his childhood but Kotallo could only stomach a few mouthfuls. Alaika could eat nothing. She had managed to sit up but her face was white like snow and her eyes were devoid of life.

“Alaika…you must eat.”

“Arakko…” She trembled then turned to Kotallo. “His tags…those Carja…they will have his tags and wear them like a trophy to spite his sacrifice…I have to get them back…”

“Do not even think about it, Alaika.” Kotallo said firmly. “He gave his life that you would live. Don’t make his sacrifice in vain.”

Alaika’s tears ran anew and she sank onto the mat given to her to sleep on, her food untouched. When she finally succumbed to sleep, Kotallo stood up.

“Watch over her. I will return.”

“Kotallo, no,” Jayko ran to him, “don’t do it. You’ll only get yourself killed! That war party was twenty strong and you don’t even know who will have Arakko’s tags.”

“I’ll gut every Carja I have to, to find them.” Kotallo vowed, picked up his spear and walked out of the settlement.

The moon darted in and out of the clouds, giving him light to see by and shadows to hide in as he crossed the land to where the lake rested quietly, reflecting the night sky. Kotallo immediately followed the tracks of Arakko, his body cold like metal and his emotions buried deep.

Sorrow would not help him.

Love would not help him.

Joy would not help him.

Only cut throat determination would see him through.

Arakko had darted about, making it difficult to hit him. Kotallo tracked his footsteps all over the land until he came across a large splatter of blood where Arakko had been struck several times. Then he had dragged himself, bleeding and maimed until another splatter told of a second volley. Arakko could not move from this attack and Kotallo could make out his shape in the dirt where he’d fallen. His body was not there now.

And in the Carja’s arrogance of their devastating fire power, they had lit grand fires and were celebrating their kill at a camp at the edge of the lake, past where a Thunderjaw was crushing the earth in a weaving pattern. Kotallo could hear the Carja singing and laughing, bragging about the might of their weapons and the Sun King’s inevitable victory.

In the darkness, Kotallo studied the camp…and began picking off the Carja one by one. First the lookouts and then those that left the camp to relieve themselves. When the outer fringes were dealt with, each of them splashing Kotallo with blood anew as he ran them through without any thought of feeling, he turned his attention to the centre of the camp…

…and nearly lost his reason.

They had strung Arakko’s body on a cross and made it a totem where the Ravager cannons rested. Kotallo almost plunged into the heart of the camp without thinking but he wasn’t going to die before he gave one final honour to his squad commander.

The Carja became drunker and louder until they all began to snore and those that didn’t, Kotallo snapped their necks before they could shout an alarm.

He then walked through the camp and, trembling at being so close to Arakko, picked up one of the Ravager cannons. It was heavy in his grasp. He turned it towards the tents and sleeping Carja…and saw a man in red robes standing and staring at him in horror. He didn’t look like a warrior. He smelt of flower water and was as clean as freshly fallen snow. Kotallo lowered the weapon towards him.

“But,” he blundered with his painted eyes wide with astonishment, “it is the sun’s will!”

“The sun has set.” Kotallo said coldly and squeezed the trigger…

…and didn’t stop until the cannon was empty of ammunition and the barrel was so hot it glowed red. Kotallo dropped it to the ground, the air surprisingly silent after the attack. The Carja hadn’t even made it out of their beds. Not one was left alive.

Kotallo dumped the Ravager cannons into the lake so that they could not be reclaimed then he cut the bonds holding Arakko to the totem.

“I’ve got you, commander,” he said, slinging Arakko across his shoulders, “sleep now. I’ve got you.”

It was dawn when Kotallo reached the Utaru settlement. The guards went to exclaim surprise at his presence then their jaws caught sight of Kotallo’s blood splattered appearance, Arakko’s body over his shoulders and they clamped their lips shut and stepped aside. He carried Arakko to the campfire where Jayko was awake and waiting anxiously. He stood up as Kotallo gently lay Arakko down then collapsed next to him.

“How…” Jayko whispered.

Kotallo couldn’t muster words to speak. He was spent and fell asleep.

When he woke there was food next to him and he was suddenly ravenous. He shovelled the gruel into his mouth violently, his stomach growling for more.

“That was a brave thing you did.” He saw the old woman studying him. “The young woman with you…it was terrible for her to see her brother like that but she has been able to cover his wounds with dressings and weep for his death. The poison has been sucked from her veins. She will recover.”

Kotallo nodded and stumbled to his feet. He was weary to his core.

“We must warn the Tenakth.” He rasped and accepted a water skin to soothe his throat.

“I don’t doubt that you would carry your friend’s body all the way to Arrowhand,” she remarked, “however, a sled has been made if you will accept it.”

Kotallo nodded. “I will. We must leave as soon as possible.”

“I know. Take care, Tenakth.”

Jayko took up the handles of the sled as Alaika looped her brother’s tags around her neck. She looked at Kotallo, her eyes weak but clear.

“Thank you.” She breathed.

Kotallo nodded and together they left the settlement and headed for Arrowhand.

At first their story of Walking Fire and the slaughter of an entire war party by Kotallo alone was laughed away as pretentious and half truths purported as legend. Then the leader of Arrowhand, Drakka and the Desert Clan chaplain, Jetakka, inspected Arakko’s body…and the questions turned more serious.

Grudda, a Desert Clan warrior who was nothing less than a giant of a man, and his squad were sent to where the attack had taken place. He knew where Marshal Regalla was stationed and was going to meet up with her on the way.

Jetakka finally let Kotallo and Jayko out of questioning and they left his lodge and sat near the winch where machine carcases could be hauled out of a scrap pit to be carved up, all its parts made use of.

They could see Grudda and his squad in the distance.

“Think they’ll ever really believe us?” Jayko asked.

“What does it matter?” Kotallo said darkly. “It happened.”

“Yes but great deeds need to be confirmed before they’re inked on your skin…and that was worthy of ink, Kotallo.”

“You want me to mark my skin with the death of my commander and friend?” Kotallo turned to Jayko, his voice scathing.

His friend met his gaze calmly. “No. I want you to mark your skin with the memory of his sacrifice which will save so many Tenakth.”

Kotallo’s eyes softened and he sagged. “Jayko…”

They watched as evening fell, the sky luminous with colours they had rarely seen before. Pinks, purples, oranges and streaks of yellow that flashed brightly before succumbing to the indigo of night, heavy, rich colour blotting out all else except the stars and the moon.

“Jayko…Kotallo,” they both turned to see Alaika standing behind them, “it’s time.”

Arakko’s body was placed upon a funeral pyre. The testimony of his wounds had been recorded by an inker and witnessed by Drakka and Jetakka. There was nothing more his sacrifice could say now.

“Goodbye, my brother.” Alaika whispered, her tears all spent.

They sat on the ground, not speaking for a long time.

“Kotallo, I want you to have this.” He looked at Alaika as she passed him Arakko’s armour. “Arakko put a great deal of thought and work into his armour. I know he would have wanted you to have it…and it wouldn’t fit Jayko.” She joked weakly.

“Alaika…” Kotallo couldn’t speak, his hands trembling.

“Please,” she begged, “what you did for my brother…please wear it.”

“Of course.” Kotallo nodded, accepting the armour. “I would be honoured.”

He looked at the armour in his hands, still marred by Arakko’s blood. He touched it, dried and crackled after three days. His heart was heavy indeed.

“What are we going to do now?” Jayko asked quietly. “Go home?”

“I’m not.” Kotallo responded immediately out of instinct. He saw their expressions. “I don’t care if I’m counted as a deserter…I’m going back to the front lines and killing every Carja I find.”

“You selfish bastard.” Jayko snorted. “You think you’re the only one who wants vengeance for Arakko’s death?”

“You know what we’re up against now.” Kotallo insisted. “Jayko, the Carja will have more of those weapons. All we knew, the skills and experience we had…it doesn’t compete with that kind of fire power…but I’m willing to die to stop them.”

“Then I’ll be bleeding right along side you.” Jayko replied.

“As will I.” Alaika nodded and Kotallo looked at her. “What? I’m going to go back to the safety of the Bulwark? To listen to Tekotteh spout about how the Sky Clan is safe and fend off suitors until I eventually give in and become bonded and a mother? One day maybe…but I won’t bring a child into this world until I know it will be safe from the likes of the Carja.”

“I better get to wiping them out.” Jayko winked at her and she shook her head and smiled softly. Jayko turned to Kotallo. “I guess that makes you our new squad leader.”

“What?” Kotallo gulped. “No…I would never dream…Alaika is next in line…”

“I’m a strategist, Kotallo,” she assured him, “Arakko and I worked together and I never resented his title of commander because he listened when I offered advice. If you and I can do that…”

“I’d be a fool not to hear your wisdom.” Kotallo replied.

“Then it’s settled.” Alaika nodded.

Jayko looked between them. “So…when do we leave, Orphan Squad Commander Kotallo?”

Kotallo glanced at the pyre and gripped his spear tightly.

“At first light.”