“Marshal Kotallo,” Marshal Zeppo, formerly of the Lowland Clan, greeted him as he entered the Grove, grand feathers in the blue hue of a midday summer sky erupting from his machine mask, his face painted in fearsome blue and white, “it is good to see you again.”

“Zeppo,” Kotallo clasped his hand, “is it true?”

Zeppo sighed and nodded. “Come, Hekarro is holding a war council.”

“Is Regalla here?”

“And Fashav,” Zeppo rolled his eyes, “you can imagine that it is not the friendliest of meetings.”

Kotallo followed him into the throne room where Regalla was fuming violently at Fashav.

“…said that if we destroyed the fortress at Barren Light and cut down their lift, the Carja could never invade the west again!”

“To do so would be madness. They would be cut down easier than the Tenakth forces who first attempted to storm Barren Light.” Fashav argued.

“Your people are without honour!”

“You dare slander the Tenakth?”

“No matter your guise, you are not Tenakth!”

“Enough!” Hekarro bellowed and Regalla fell silent, Fashav already quiet and controlled. Regalla looked as though she was about to cut him down, even if she had to gut Hekarro in order to do so. Kotallo and Zeppo’s appearance broke the stalemate. “Marshals, come. We have urgent matters to discuss.”

“Yes, we heard.” Kotallo took his place beside Fashav on his right and Zeppo on his left. Regalla was on the end furthest from Fashav.

“A week ago,” Chief Hekarro said in his deep, controlled manner, “Carja were captured in the Daunt.”

“How did they even get into the Daunt? The lift was destroyed.” Zeppo asked.

“They scaled the mountainous descent like the first invaders did when they took possession of the Daunt and built Barren Light after their pulley lift was installed.” Fashav explained.

“And why were they not slaughtered where they stood?” Regalla demanded through gritted teeth.

“The one Carja dressed in cumbersome robes the colour of dried blood held out these,” Hekarro displayed several Tenakth soldier tags that had been taken from the dead as trophies of war, “and cried, the Sun-King Jiran is dead.”

Kotallo blinked and glanced at Fashav. Sincere relief was evident upon his face.

“The Carja were taken to where the Tenakth are camped at the ruins of Barren Light and a squad was dispatched to inform me of their wish to talk.”

“Talk!” Regalla spat. “Their words are lies! You cannot trust anything they say! They are there to slaughter you!”

“I trust that four Carja hardly warrant fear and trembling,” Hekarro said sternly, “and so, with my Marshals by my side, I will present a united Tenakth front when I speak with them.”

“I cannot believe you are even considering this, Hekarro!”

“Regalla,” Hekarro stood up, his height towering over hers though she did not flinch, “you will stand beside me and you will heed my words.” He put his hand on her shoulder and Kotallo noticed it was not a possessive grasp but one of friendship. “My most trusted Marshal…will you trust me now?”

Regalla looked aside. “I will go with you and I will trust you…but if even one of the Carja looks at you the wrong way, I will cut him down.”

“So be it.”

A contingent of the Chief’s Guard, young soldiers wanting to pledge themselves to Hekarro’s service and, possibly, become Marshals in the future, accompanied their Chief and the four Marshals south, around the base of the hills and the Desert Clan territory to where the tunnel still existed from the days of the Red Raids. There had been talk about attempting to collapse the tunnel but it had been argued that it provided valuable access into No Man’s Land and meant that the Tenakth did not have to trespass upon Utaru territory in order to do so. It was easily patrolled and guarded.

On the other side, the large group of soldiers followed the lake’s perimetre, crossing over and through the hills before emerging on the other side into No Man’s Land. It was a half day’s march to the slope that led to the Daunt and the destroyed Barren Light fortress.

Kotallo looked up at the ruinous remains of the once impenetrable stronghold of the Carja.

His spine quivered.

He had not been back since he had thrown the gates open and recovered from the Carja arrows that had struck him from behind.

He paused part way up the slope and turned his gaze to the foot of the cliffs.

Had he their tags to clasp in his hand, Kotallo would have gripped them so tight he might have drawn blood. Instead he clutched his spear, turned his face towards Barren Light and put one foot in front of the other until he reached the broken wall of the once great Carja fortress, pausing briefly in the arch where he had held the metal gate aloft before striding into the courtyard.

All remnants of the Carja colours had been scraped from it, adorned with Tenakth detail and three large totems waving the colours of the three clans.

Since the day the Carja were chased from the west, a Tenakth presence had been maintained in the Daunt.

Since the day the Carja were chased from the west, none had dared to return.

Hekarro’s presence in the Tenakth camp caused a flurry of activity. The soldiers had suspected that a Marshal would be sent but they were unprepared for the honour of Hekarro being in their midst.

An interim Commander, Jezra, saluted Chief Hekarro and his Marshals.

“Chief Hekarro, your presence here is a great honour.”

“Commander Jezra,” Hekarro greeted, “I am here because of the Carja.”

“Yes sir. Of course, sir.” Jezra ordered food and drink to be brought, the Chief’s Guard sitting with the soldiers that manned the Daunt outpost. Hekarro and his Marshals sat in Jezra’s lodge which was open on three sides. The weather in the Daunt was almost indulgent, soft nights and pleasant days. “The Carja have been imprisoned in a cave sealed with sharpened spikes and guarded at all times. We have allowed them enough water and food to keep them alive until we received word as to what you wanted to do with them.”

“Very good,” Hekarro said, “when we have had our fill, I will meet with them.”

Hekarro had the meeting all planned out. A makeshift throne was built in Jezra’s lodge which he could recline on yet not lose much of his height. Regalla and Zeppo stood on his left, Fashav on his right and Kotallo also, on the outer edge.

The light was fading when the Carja were brought from the cave, stumbling in their bonds. In the fire light of the torches, Hekarro cut an intimidating sight, shadows darkening around his face yet his eyes were lit like a demon’s.

The Carja were a pathetic sight. There was the one trembling like a dry leaf in a winter breeze, dressed in the robes of red that were soiled and torn. There was another that had been in Carja armour but had been stripped of his battlements and only wore a tunic, pants and boots. Kotallo recognised that he was military trained even without armour as he had his fear under control though Kotallo could still see it in his eyes. The other two in the party were both solidly built, barrel chested and the only difference between the male and the female was the dip in her top that showed off her cleavage. It was possible that they were shaking in fear but their heavy clothing weighed such trembling down.

Jezra ordered the Carja to kneel and when he wasn’t satisfied with the depth of their bow he screamed at them to kneel and their faces crashed into the dirt.

Hekarro flicked his fingers at Jezra who nodded.

“Chief Hekarro of the united clans of the Tenakth sits before you.”

“Speak.” Hekarro said and Kotallo marvelled how so much authority could be conveyed in a single word.

The Carja officer lifted his face enough to be able to do so. “I am Captain Ugra and I have been sent to the west, to the Tenakth, with a Sun Priest who has a message from the Sun-King for Chief Hekarro.” He glanced at the man in the red robes. “It…was on the scroll…”

“We confiscated anything they brought with them.” Jezra explained and an assortment of items was brought forward.

“That’s it…” The Sun Priest pointed with shaking fingers.

Regalla kicked harshly, striking his hand and knocking the scroll out of his reach. She picked it up and let it unravel before dropping it in the dirt in front of him.

The Sun Priest gathered it up and peered at the many glyphs on its parchment.

“Tenacious Ido, Sun Priest of the temple of Meridian, conveys this epistle to you.” He introduced himself, his voice quivering and he swallowed, the lump in his throat bobbing up and down. “His Radiance, the 14th King of the Sundom, Sun-King Avad, compelled us to bring word to the victimised and raided tribes of the west, the Tenakth and the Utaru that the reign of Jiran, known as the mad Sun-King, is over.”

Kotallo heard Fashav inhale softly and was tempted to look at him but held his gaze sternly forward.

The Sun Priest licked his lips and continued. “Sun-King Avad, making no excuse or reason for the violence enacted upon the west, has sent us to convey his deepest regret and apology for the actions of his father.”

“Apology…” Regalla snarled to one side.

“Sun-King Avad sends Chief Hekarro his word that the Red Raids are over and that the Carja will never invade the west again.”

“We took the west back from you.” Zeppo snapped. “Does this…Avad think he can claim responsibility for what the Tenakth did?”

“Sun-King Avad…” The Priest yelped as Jezra lunged forward and slapped him after his attempt to correct Zeppo’s words.

Kotallo’s lips turned down.

Pity was wasted on the Carja.

“The Sun-King knows it was the might of the Tenakth that took back the Daunt and the west,” the Captain insisted, defending the whimpering Priest whose lip was split from the blow, “he only wanted to let you know, now that he is king, you have nothing to fear from the Carja.”

“You think with your pretty words and your grovelling manner,” Regalla sneered, “that we would let down our guard and allow you to invade once more? You mean to lull us into a false sense of peace and victory before you cut us down in the night!”

“Chief,” Fashav turned to speak to Hekarro, his voice soft and in confidence though Kotallo could hear his whisper, “the lift is broken. The Carja cannot invade. This is not a war party,” he gestured to the four who kneeled before Hekarro, “it is a risk. Avad knew the Tenakth could slay anyone he sent. But he believed his message was so important that it was worth risk. We have nothing to fear from the Carja now,” he glanced at the four in front of them, “the Tenakth certainly need not fear these brave souls who were prepared to sacrifice their lives to convey Avad’s message.”

Hekarro blinked, his expression unreadable.

“What good are words when the Carja have gutted so many in cowardly raids?” Regalla demanded.

“Sun-King Avad also wanted to give Hekarro…”

“A what? A gift? A bribe? A pathetic tribute?”

“No,” the Priest whimpered, “not give…to return…that which was stolen from the Tenakth.”

“It is in the chest we brought with us.” Captain Ugra explained.

“This?” Jezra kicked the hefty box. “We could not get into the damn thing.”

“It’s Oseram make,” the round woman who had been silent with her companion up until now, explained, “unless you have the key, it will not open.” Her companion drew a key from his shirt and held it out.

“Weapons could be in the box.” Jezra warned Hekarro.

“Or an explosive device that could kill the one who opened it.” Zeppo muttered. “It is a risk.”

“I will open it.” Fashav said quietly. “The Oseram suffered terribly under Jiran’s rule…I think that your coming here was a brave thing and shows that you believe that Sun-King Avad is nothing like his father.” Kotallo caught a strange look in Ugra’s eyes, something akin to recognition as Fashav turned to Hekarro. “My chief, allow me to risk my life to open this gift. If it is a weapon to harm you, I will kill these traitors myself. If was meant to kill you outright when you opened it, I will die for my foolishness.”

“So be it.” Hekarro said.

Fashav took the key and box and took it to a clear space, the Tenakth stepping back as he slid the key in and turned it. The chest opened. Fashav let out a small gasp and closed his eyes. Every neck craned to see what was inside as he lifted the box and brought it back, setting it down at Hekarro’s feet.

“My Chief…” He breathed.

The box was filled with the tags of Tenakth soldiers. Dozens of them. So many soldiers of so many squads, their identification returned.

“When Sun-King Avad ended the Red Raids, he made provision that all who participated in the invasion and slaughter of the west could return the tags of those they killed without reprisal.”

“There is no punishment to be exact for this…atrocity?” Regalla’s fury was heightening.

“Sun-King Avad has decreed that those deemed guilty of war crimes will receive punishment…”

“All Carja are guilty! I don’t care if they are the smallest child or the oldest male, if they farmed the land or gutted the Tenakth with their bare hands…none are exempt and all must die!”

“Regalla!” Hekarro’s voice clamped down on her rage and stopped her hand reaching for her blade. She looked at him and with his eyes alone did he dismiss her from the lodge. As she stormed away, Jezra turned to the captives.

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“Know that Marshal Regalla lost two brothers…when the Carja burned them alive.”

The four captives paled with fear.

“That she did not kill us on sight is a mercy undeserved.” The priest offered.

“Return them to the cave.” Hekarro decided. “I will speak with my Marshals.”

The Carja and Oseram were led back to their imprisonment. Kotallo joined Fashav and Zeppo in standing in front of Hekarro.

He was quiet for a long time. “I would hear your thoughts.” He said at length.

“I agree with Regalla,” Zeppo announced, “these Carja are deserving of death…but I will restrain my blade if you say to, my Chief.”

Hekarro nodded, appreciating Zeppo’s discipline.

“Marshal Kotallo?”

“If this Avad’s intent was to impress us with Carja superiority…he did so poorly,” Kotallo observed, “yet, sending a larger group would have invited the Tenakth to attack without pause.”

“With this I also agree.” Hekarro turned to Fashav. “Marshal?”

“Avad…the Sun-King?” Fashav shook his head. “He was second born, not first in line for the throne of the Sundom. For him to be Sun-King…and what happened to Jiran? Why are there Oseram accompanying the Captain and the Priest? They were also raided for sacrifice. There are so many questions, Chief Hekarro that I hardly know where to begin…however, I grew up with Avad in Meridian as his older cousin. He never harboured the same blood lust or even exhibited ambition of any kind. And I also agree with Marshal Kotallo that this small envoy was a carefully planned, precise tactic to get our attention…with no ill intent that I can see.”

Hekarro nodded again. “You have spoken well. Leave me.”

Kotallo bowed and went to go. He heard Fashav ask to speak with Hekarro alone as he left the lodge. Jezra was waiting and showed them to where they could sleep. Kotallo sat on one of the ruined walls underneath a sky full of the bright lights of night and a crescent moon that drifted lazily across the expanse. Zeppo also sat near him, observing the same sky.

“I must commend your restraint.” Kotallo commented. “You harbour the same rage as Regalla towards the Carja yet you heed the Chief’s word. You are a soldier of worth.”

“To be honest,” Zeppo sighed, “I was hoping one of them would try to assassinate Hekarro so that I could run them through…”

“Do you miss the war so much that you yearn for more blood?”

“I lost my two sisters, my mother and my home to the Carja.”

“I am sorry.” Kotallo breathed.

It was quiet now, the Tenakth all settling down for the night.

“I was in the Sheerside Mountains when Hekarro summoned me to the Grove.”

“Did you go to the Bulwark?”

“I did.”

“Was the lift sent for you?”

“After a wait of half a day.” Kotallo’s brow darkened and his jaw tightened. “In the end, Tekotteh realised I was not going to give up and walk away and the lift descended. The Chaplain, Gerrah, told me to tell you that your squad is safe and that she is well.”

Kotallo allowed himself a small smile. “I am glad.”

“Have you been back since?”

“No.”

Zeppo nodded. “It seems to be the way of a Marshal, never to return to their clan unless there is no other choice.”

“Perhaps the Chief was worried one who was formerly of their clan would not receive the same respect as a different clan member.”

“Perhaps.” Zeppo yawned. “I’m getting some sleep. You should too.”

Kotallo nodded but wasn’t feeling tired. He got up and wandered the perimeter of the Tenakth camp, coming to stand where the doors had been torn from their hinges and burned. He put his hand on the remains of the arch, his fingers tracing the line of the stone blocks.

It was over two years ago yet it felt like yesterday.

“Marshal Kotallo?”

He turned to see three young Tenakth soldiers behind him.

“Do you need me?” He asked.

“No sir,” the one in the middle ventured, “we just wanted to say…we know the story of your victory at Barren Light back to front, inside and out. You are a legend and we aspire to live our lives in the same way.” Kotallo cleared his throat, embarrassed at the attention. “We even practice scaling the cliffs just as you did…”

“You do what?” Kotallo barked and the soldiers recoiled from him. “Have you no sense of the foolishness of the action?”

“But…it’s how Barren Light was taken…your victory.”

“And if there had been any other way I would have taken it,” Kotallo snapped, “for in liberating Barren Light, I lost my best friend and remaining squad member.”

“Then his sacrifice is worthy of ink upon all our skin.” They insisted and Kotallo sighed for he could see there was no getting into their heads.

“There is not enough skin or ink in the world to commemorate such a friend.” He muttered and strode past them, out of the light and into the darkness. He couldn’t stand the clamour anymore. He couldn’t handle their praise. He couldn’t be this close to the memory of Jayko’s death and not fall into the pit of despair that had nearly consumed him.

He walked along the river that poured out of the Daunt, fireflies dancing around his head, filling the air with the most beautiful sparkles. The air was pleasantly warm, the earth smelled rich and lush. There was no bite of the frost in the air, his skin did not crack from the cold and he did not have to steel himself against the frigid weather.

He wondered if the Sundom was as pleasant as the Daunt.

As he walked he heard voices, low and speaking urgently.

Kotallo ducked his head into the bushes and crept forward. His blood curdled with horror when he saw Fashav and the Carja captain walking the bank of the river, the captain unshackled and unguarded apart from the Marshal. But he was not suffering an interrogation. Rather, they were engaging in an exchange of information.

Kotallo’s heart sank.

Though his experience with the invaders from the east had taught him otherwise, he liked the Carja turned Tenakth Marshal. He was forthright, well spoken and seemed genuinely interested in the Tenakth as a tribe.

Here, he had clearly used his power as a Marshal to free the Carja captain so that they could speak secretly.

Kotallo’s jaw firmed then he spied two eyes blazing fury from across the river. Regalla squatted in the bushes on the other side, her lips curled in disgust and her face filled with rage.

They both watched as Fashav finished speaking with the captain, shook hands with him like an equal and led him back to the cave.

Kotallo made sure Regalla did not see him, returning to where he would sleep, his heart disturbed.

Chief Hekarro had woken early and spent time with Jezra, sorting the returned tags of the soldiers. When the Marshals were summoned, they had been divided into three groups for the three separate clans. Kotallo noticed that Fashav was not in attendance. From Regalla’s expression, he knew she had not missed his absence either.

“The tags must be returned to the Commanders of the clans so that they can go to the families and squads of the deceased.” Hekarro explained. “Kotallo, you will see the Lowland Clan tags to Atekka. Zeppo, I task you with the Desert Clan tags and Regalla…”

“Forgive my tardiness, Chief Heka…” Fashav joined their presence, his words cut short as Regalla launched herself at him, striking his face with her fist.

“You treacherous leech! You conspire with our enemy in the darkness and plot Tenakth deaths!”

Fashav had fallen and neither Kotallo or Zeppo went to help as Regalla stood over him, laying into his body with her fists, pulling out a blade from her boot. Before she could drive her fatal blow home, she was yanked from Fashav by Hekarro’s hand and thrown back, snarling like a wild animal.

“Regalla! Control yourself! You dare strike another Marshal?!”

“This…Carja,” she spat, “plots with the enemy! I saw them last night at the river! Fashav let the captain out of the cave and they spoke for over an hour! Do you deny it?”

Fashav got up, holding his jaw that was already bruising. “I do not.”

“You see!” Regalla stepped forward again but Hekarro stepped in front. “Open your eyes, Hekarro! He plots against you! He plots against all of us!”

“He was acting with my authority!”

Hekarro’s voice was like an earthquake and in the aftermath, the Tenakth camp was quiet and still. Regalla glared at Hekarro in disbelief.

“Marshal Fashav asked permission to speak with the Carja captain which I granted.”

“You…fool!”

“Marshal,” Kotallo said in a warning voice, “do not forget your place.”

Regalla bristled with uncontrollable rage. “Do not think you can tell me my place.” She snarled. “I have hated the Carja longer than you, boy!”

“And that is your blind spot, Regalla. Go.”

She looked at Hekarro. “What?”

“Leave this place. Return to the Grove and wait for me there.” Hekarro stared at her. “Regalla…go.”

She stormed out of the lodge, cursing everything and everyone under her breath.

Hekarro sighed deeply and looked at Fashav. “I told you to be discreet.”

“My Chief, I…”

Hekarro held up his hand. “I should have foreseen that Regalla would feel the need to watch the Carja prisoners.”

“Then…you really gave Marshal Fashav permission to free the captain to speak?” Kotallo asked.

“I asked Chief Hekarro for permission to do so.” Fashav explained. “I wanted to hear about Jiran’s demise and Avad’s ascension as I couldn’t quite believe that my mousy little cousin had the nerve to end the 13th Sun-King.”

“What did you learn?” Hekarro asked.

“Avad’s brother, my older cousin, Kadaman, was meant to inherit the throne upon Jiran’s passing…but he opposed the Red Raids and the slaughter,” Fashav’s face paled where Regalla’s fist had not struck him, “so his father threw him into the Sun-Ring.” The news was so profound Fashav looked as though he might collapse. “That Jiran would do so…to his own son…” He looked up. “Avad could no longer disagree with his father in silence. He escaped Meridian and formed an alliance with Oseram freebooters. With Oseram firepower and other resistance fighters, Avad stormed Meridian, liberated the city from Jiran…and killed him.”

“Do you really think this story can be believed?” Zeppo asked.

“I confess I found it impossible to imagine Avad as an insidious son who committed patricide…but that he was finally motivated to stop the slaughter because of his brother’s death…yes,” Fashav nodded, “this I can believe. He did not liberate Meridian on his own which means he has allies, those who recoiled from Jiran’s madness.” He laughed softly. “The Sundom is finally…free.”

“What does it mean for the Tenakth?” Kotallo pressed.

“Only time will tell.”

By the time Hekarro, his guards and two out of the four Marshals who had gone with their Chief to the Daunt, returned to the Grove, Fashav’s bruises from Regalla’s blows had somewhat healed. Kotallo felt wretched for having doubted the man’s intent and had apologised on the journey back.

Fashav had waved away his apology.

“I realise how underhanded it must have looked. I wanted to speak with Ugra about the Sundom and I confess, I didn’t want to be overheard. My questions were…personal.” Fashav sighed heavily. “I do not regret my life as Tenakth, Kotallo. What should have been a death sentence became the greatest of adventures, filled with lessons that could take me two lifetimes to truly understand…but I miss my home.”

Kotallo thought about the Sheerside Mountains. Though the Daunt had been picturesque, a land lush and ripe that could make a man content with his lot, he knew his heart would always miss the snap of snow and the bite of the breeze that never lost its winter chill.

“I understand exactly what it is you mean.” He admitted.

Zeppo left their party to take the tags that the Carja had given them to the Desert Clan capital of Scalding Spear.

As Hekarro entered the Grove, soldiers spoke in hushed whispers and gazed at them, desperately curious as to what had happened in the Daunt.

Regalla awaited them in the throne room. Hekarro gestured for Kotallo and Fashav to stay, the Chief’s Guard dismissed and he approached her across the platform where the vision had appeared to him that had caused him to unite the clans.

“Regalla…”

“Do not expect me to apologise.” She said, having lost none of her fury. “You trust this Carja more than you do your Tenakth brethren.”

“I know you do not want to hear this, Regalla,” Hekarro said firmly, “but Fashav is Tenakth.”

“He is a snake!”

“Regalla,” Hekarro’s voice turned to a dangerous tone, “Marshals cannot challenge Commanders for leadership of a clan and they are not permitted to challenge each other. Either you will accept my decision for Fashav to be a trusted Marshal and respect him as I expect the Sky Clan and Lowland Clan to respect you…or you will leave my side.”

“You would choose him over me?” Regalla hissed.

“No. I offer the choice to you.”

She glared at him, her dark eyes sharper than Kotallo’s blade.

“What did you do with the Carja prisoners?”

Hekarro lifted his chin. “They came in peace…and I let them go in peace.” Regalla’s lips turned down and she shook with rage. “If I did not, this Sun-King of theirs might have sent more envoys, in greater numbers.”

“First you deny my war party invasion into the east after we took the Daunt,” Regalla’s voice was as cold as ice, “now you parlay with the enemy?”

“Avad has done me no wrong.” She hissed and turned her face. “The Tenakth killed each other for dozens of years yet peace exists between the clans. The Carja persisted less than ten…how can I call for peace amongst the Tenakth when I deny a cordial greeting from a man who stopped the slaughter?”

“Because they killed my brothers!”

“Yes!” Hekarro’s temper was ignited and Kotallo stepped back in shock. “But you are not the only one who lost family against the Carja! When will you set aside your selfish need for vengeance?”

“When every last Carja lies dead in a mound so high it can be seen from the west!” Regalla shouted in his face.

“You are not the chief!”

Regalla opened her mouth and for a moment, Kotallo thought she was going to challenge him then and there. Then she closed it, drew back, turned and walked away from him.

“Regalla!” She paused but did not look at Hekarro. “You walk away from me…you may not return as my Marshal.”

“So be it.” She said, striding out of the throne room.

Kotallo watched her go then turned to Hekarro. He seemed smaller for a moment, deflated and sad. For all Regalla’s faults, she had been a Marshal of the highest quality when she put Hekarro’s will first and served him without selfish interest.

“Leave me.” Hekarro said softly.

Kotallo and Fashav left the throne room. Fashav let out the breath he was holding.

“At least you won’t have to watch your back from now on.” Kotallo remarked.

“She won’t leave it at this,” Fashav shook his head, “she can’t.”

“We can hope that she will go east without permission.”

“Regalla is no fool. She knows that she would need the combined might of the Tenakth clans to wage war on the Carja in their own country. No,” Fashav sighed, “Regalla will bide her time. She won’t risk killing me and having a bounty put on her head…not until she can use me to further her cause.”

Kotallo swallowed. “I thought you might have been planning your escape with that Carja captain.” Fashav chuckled. “It seemed as though he recognised you.”

“He did.” Fashav admitted. “While he could not rescue me from my vile captors,” he winked and Kotallo smiled, “he did offer to take a message to Avad.”

They stood together, observing the Chief’s Guard as Chaplain Dekka extoled the virtues of the visions of the Ten.

“Can I ask what the message was?”

A smile tugged on Fashav’s lips as he looked around the Grove.

“Though I will always miss home, my place is with the Tenakth.”

Fashav was right, of course, about Regalla. She did not slink away to lick her wounds. Nor did she charge into the east and become lost in the Sundom. Commander Yarra of the Desert Clan sent disturbing messages about the desertion of some of her soldiers, including Grudda. Though she could not know for certain, she suspected they had sought Regalla out after the news of her resignation from the title of Marshal had become widely known.

“Sooner or later, she will strike.” Kotallo muttered as he watched the Kulrut, a new Marshal for the Desert Clan needed. Yarra had sent three promising warriors, the Lowland had sent two and the Sky Clan only ever sent its obligatory one.

Unfortunately for the Sky Clan warrior, he was caught in the chest by a Clawstrider tail and failed to kill a machine.

“Thank goodness you’re still able to perform your Marshal duties.” Fashav had remarked, watching it with him from the stands high above. Hekarro studied the bout, the warriors striking at the machines until they oozed dark fluid and collapsed into the sand. “I recall the Kulrut two years ago, when you were sent to us by Tekotteh. I remember it as well as I do my own.”

“Why?” Kotallo asked.

“Because they could not have been so different.” Fashav poured ale into steins and handed one to Kotallo. “I demanded the trial by Kulrut, not understanding that I was, in a sense, auditioning for the role of a Marshal. I confess, I just wanted to live and thought that the Kulrut would grant me that boon, possibly even my freedom.” Fashav shook his head and laughed. “When I leapt into the Arena, I faced not only machines but other Tenakth who thought it was the perfect opportunity to exact their own vengeance. As I killed my machine, a Tenakth stabbed me from behind,” he gestured to his hip, “here. I retaliated and while the rest of the Tenakth called for my death, Hekarro said that I had the right to fight the duel with the Tenakth who had stabbed me for he had, in a sense, challenged me. I was victorious but because of what I thought I knew of the Tenakth, I was sure that my surviving the Kulrut would not atone for my killing one of them…but Hekarro pointed out that I had acted honourably in a dishonourable situation…and made me his Marshal.” Fashav looked into the ale of his stein. “I realised then that Hekarro was a Tenakth with honour…and if I was wrong about him, then I was likely wrong about a lot of things when it came to your people.”

Kotallo had not heard the tale of Fashav becoming a Marshal told like this before. Tekotteh had mocked the decision and berated Hekarro for being foolish to allow a Carja to act with authority amongst the three clans of the Tenakth. He only realised now, looking back at those times, just how petty and despicable Tekotteh’s words and actions were.

“Granted I am not Carja and no other Tenakth attacked me,” Kotallo admitted, “yet I fail to see how my Kulrut differed so greatly from yours.”

Fashav drank deeply from the ale, licking his lips and setting the stein down.

“When you entered the Grove to face your Kulrut, I saw a man who had just lost everything…and I do mean everything. Not only had you lost your squad but you had lost the hope that you could be content in your home, the kindness of childhood memories ripped up, exposing the rot beneath.” Kotallo stared at Fashav, astonished that the man had read him so well for he had said nothing to anyone about his altercation with Tekotteh when he had arrived for the Kulrut. “I heard what the other Tenakth who were participating in the Kulrut said to you before you descended into the Arena. We were with you at Barren Light. We are with you now. Whatever you ask of us, we will grant.”

“I…asked for the largest machine in the Kulrut to be mine and mine alone.” Kotallo recalled.

“You entered the Arena with those that would have died to defend you,” Fashav set his stein aside, “and you did not kill one machine but three.”

“Is that all, Marshal?” Kotallo asked.

“No,” Fashav swallowed, “when my Kulrut was over, I stood in the sand, alive and relieved to be so but you,” he looked at him, “you killed the last machine and when you looked around, poised for combat and saw there was no other machine to slay, you sank onto your knees in the sand and I saw grief on your expression…that you had not died in combat and that you had to continue to live.”

Kotallo’s throat was tight as though someone was squeezing it with a rope.

Fashav looked at his hands. “I did wonder why you did not kill yourself before you had even reached the Kulrut.”

“You may know much about the Tenakth, but you still remain ignorant in many ways.” Kotallo said tersely, vulnerable and strangely afraid.

“Of this I am well aware.” Fashav turned to him with quiet strength coupled with humility. “Educate me, my friend.”

“The Ten, the soldiers in the visions, never gave up and never flagged in their dedication to their duty. It is the mandate upon which all three tribes of the Tenakth are built. To kill oneself is to die dishonourably with no regard for the sacrifice of the Ten.” Kotallo lifted his gaze. “Suicide was not an option.”

“You were hoping to die at the Kulrut in battle, to end your suffering.” Fashav said softly.

“I…I was wrong.” Kotallo confessed. “I know that now…at the time…”

“It seemed the only choice left to you.” Fashav acknowledged. “Well, I know I and Chief Hekarro are grateful for your service. Your strength of arm is as strong as your strength of character, formidable and sure.”

The Tenakth watching the Kulrut roared in favour as the last of the machines was slain and the soldiers who had survived the onslaught stood in a line, blood, sweat and machine fluid soaked but triumphant. Fashav tapped Kotallo and he nodded. They both joined Hekarro, standing slightly back from him as he proclaimed the new blood Marshals and welcomed them into his service.

Kotallo watched as they pledged themselves to his will and vision and felt oddly content. It was not the life he had wanted and there would be challenges in the future but it was a life well spent and he would always give whatever he had to see it through.