The air was thick with humidity. Inspects buzzed continuously from the swamp water that the mangroves grew from, their long roots creeping across the ground, sinking deep into the constantly wet earth that squelched with every step.

Kotallo moved through the forest, the undergrowth denser than anything he had experienced in any of the other clan’s territories.

How he missed the cool air of the peaks or the open skies of the desert.

This mangrove swamp of a forest was just about the worst place imaginable to a Sky Clan born soldier. However, he was there at the behest of his Chief and he would see his task through.

A Clawstrider, a particularly nasty one, had killed a water party, slashing them apart with its claws, keeping the Tenakth from Thornmash, the Lowland Clan capital, from the one source of clean water they could get their hands on.

Despite all the water around them, in the swamp and in the sea, the Tenakth at Thornmarsh were desperate for clean drinking water.

With a Clawstrider blocking their way, they were in danger of needing to abandon the settlement, Chief Hekarro’s birth place.

“Not while I live,” Kotallo breathed and edged through the swamp, his skin damp with sweat, beads of it trickling into his eyes as his fingers held tight to Silent Kill, “I’ll find you, machine devil.”

The former weapon of Marshal Fareak had become an extension of Kotallo’s arm. He never went anywhere without it and he even preferred it over a Tenakth’s traditional jagged blade. It was lighter, sharper and could deal serious damage. That and his trusty spear, yet another that he had fashioned, were all the weapons he required.

Kotallo tensed as he heard a scurrying nearby. He waited, holding his breath until he spied a lizard scampering away from him. He rolled his eyes and continued forward.

The pool of clean water was not far away. Neither then, by reason, was his prey.

Through the mangroves and the constant buzz of insects, Kotallo saw movement and heard a hissing sound, accompanied by undergrowth being stomped and crushed. He edged around a large mangrove, pressed against its tangled trunk and peered at the machine.

A Clawstrider but unlike any others he had seen before. Some had no elements, others were wreathed in fire, some hummed with electricity and others were frosted with ice…but this…it was new.

No wonder Atekka had called for Hekarro to send a Marshal rather than dealing with it herself. The bodies of the Tenakth had not only been torn apart, but their skin and clothes had been gnawed at, almost as if they’d been burned yet there was no smell of smoke and no charred like residue. They had stunk of something unnatural.

As Kotallo observed the Clawstrider, he knew without a doubt he had found what had killed them.

Green gushes of both liquid and smoke erupted from its body, its predator snout snapping at the air, its barbed long tail whipping about, able to catch an unsuspecting hunter off guard, breaking ribs in its attack. It would have to be killed, dragged back to Thornmash, named and studied. The Tenakth could not afford to be ignorant about a new, deadly type of machine.

Kotallo felt a smile tug at his lips as he drew his spear out. He would have to risk being spotted to line up the perfect throw. He stepped out from the safety of the mangrove trunk and the Clawstrider immediately lifted its head, turning towards him, its body quivering as it went on the offensive…but Kotallo was faster.

The spear struck it hard, cutting through its hindlegs, severing the braided wire that made them work. Immediately the Clawstrider was disabled but that didn’t mean it couldn’t kill and it was possible it could repair itself if Kotallo was not swift in dispatching it.

He leapt at the machine, Silent Kill slicing the tubes that gushed the green chemical, hacking at the head, avoiding the claws and teeth as it snapped and snarled until Kotallo managed to severe its neck, its head rolling into the swamp water, the jaws still trying to bite even as the rest of the Clawstrider shuddered and fell, twitching in its death throes.

Kotallo kept his eye on it then, when he deemed it safe to do so, he gutted its chest cavity, yanking its heart out. Now there was no way it could repair itself.

Kotallo’s shoulders sagged in relief and he turned his attention to his spear. His legendary arm had lost none of its strength over the years. If anything, it had grown stronger. He yanked it out, both weapons and his body splashed with the green chemical. He could feel it searing his skin, eating at it.

Kotallo was loathed to dive into the one pool of clean water that the Thornmarsh Tenakth were able to draw from. He knew the beach was nearby and sprinted through the undergrowth, emerging from the line of the mangrove swamp that recoiled from the salty expanse of water that caused the west to finally stop. Kotallo dropped both weapons into the pulse of the tide, allowing the natural movement of the water to clean them as he continued to run for the deeper waters and dove in.

He could feel the burn lift, his skin tingling as the salt water cleansed and dressed the attack of the chemical. His strong arms cut through the water, swimming to an outcrop and back again to ensure that he was as clean as he could be.

When he returned to the beach, he collected his spear and blade then followed the beach towards Thornmarsh. It was not far to go. He made it just as the sun was starting to set and golden beams danced upon the waves.

As he strode through the main entrance, the guards saluted him.

“Marshal Kotallo.” They greeted.

Kotallo nodded and continued into Thornmarsh. As sprawling as the mangrove swamps around it, the capital of the Lowland Clan could be a nightmare to navigate. Kotallo wondered if he’d have to embarrass himself by asking where Atekka was when a young soldier, probably Atekka’s aid, approached him.

“Marshal Kotallo, Commander Atekka is eager to hear your report. This way.”

Relieved, Kotallo followed the aid up several walkways to where Atekka was in her lodge which overlooked the lake that was as wide as No Man’s Land. She stood and greeted him.

“Please, sit and eat. You must be starving.”

“First, know that the Clawstrider has been dealt with.” Kotallo insisted. “If your water gathers can work in the dark, you could have fresh water by tomorrow morning.”

“I had them on standby in case of such news.” Atekka nodded and spoke to her aid.

“I would also recommend a hunting party. There is no need to kill it now but it ought to be dragged back to Thornmarsh and studied.” Kotallo was pleased to see that Atekka heeded his words and told the aid to organise it.

“I cannot thank you enough, Marshal.” She said strongly.

“You were right to send word to Hekarro.” Kotallo insisted. “It is new and with my testimony as to its type, we can spread the word of it to the other clans to be wary of.”

“Do you think…was it responsible for the Blood Choke?”

She was referring to the ribbon of red that had appeared in the streams that fed into the lake or ocean, whatever it was, that ended the west and Tenakth territory. At first it was an insignificant trickle but the ribbon became a streak which became a stream of its own until it polluted the water to such an extent that those who drank from it could become ill.

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“I do not believe so.” Kotallo admitted. “The pool it was near was clean. The Blood Choke also began months ago but the machine type is new. No others have been seen.” Atekka’s shoulders slumped. “I am sorry I could not bring you better news.”

“You have kept us from having to abandon Thornmarsh.” She assured him. “At least, for a while. Please, eat.”

The Lowland Clan palette was a great deal different to that of the Sky Clan. However, Kotallo has visited the Raintrace region several times now and had become somewhat accustomed to the fish and shell creature meats that made up a significant portion of the meals…somewhat…

Kotallo picked up a shell that had been pried open, its contents cooked on coals while it remained in its opalescent bed and tipped it down its throat. He tried not to shudder at the slimy texture. Atekka chuckled softly.

“You have to wonder at the first Tenakth that was so desperate for food that they pried open what they thought was a stone, found a slimy creature inside and swallowed it down.” She tipped one down her throat and swallowed it without flinching.

“I cannot tell if they were brave or foolish.” Kotallo admitted.

“Sometimes you can be a little of both.” Atekka mused and Kotallo would have to agree with her. Having been a Marshal for two years now, older and hopefully wiser than he’d been in his youth, he had looked back at some of his exploits as a warrior on the front lines and didn’t know whether to shake his head in disbelief or acknowledge his bravery.

He ate with Atekka on the open portion of her lodge, reclined on the reeds lashed together to form a sort of balcony. Though the view was not as expansive as that from the Bulwark, it was high enough to offer a dazzling view of the enormous body of water that stretched out from Thornmarsh.

He found himself staring at it, enraptured by the waves and the light that sparkled across its surface, unlike any other lake he had seen before.

“It would be easy to lose years of your life, watching the water.” Atekka admitted. “So soothing.”

“When I first beheld it, I would have sworn the waves and water were roaring at me.” Kotallo admitted. “In my childhood I had only seen streams and rivers. In my youth I had seen lakes and ponds. Here…this…”

“I have to admit, I have never heard it roar, although you are not the first to comment on the water’s deep voice.” Atekka sighed. “Those who were born here do not hear it. It is simply…there.”

“I confess, it does not bellow like it used to,” Kotallo nodded, “and now that I am accustomed to it, I can hear the other sounds too, the waves upon the sand, the call of the birds…and I can taste salt in the air.”

“It flavours everything.” Atekka nodded then turned to him. “Will you stay for a few days before going back to the Grove?”

“I shall. I would like to trace the Blood Choke and see if I can find its source.” Kotallo shook his head. “Though I doubt I will be able to discover what other Marshals, wiser and more intuitive, have not.”

“Any new thoughts or confirmations of old will be welcome.” Atekka insisted.

“As long as my presence is not an inconvenience to you.” Kotallo asked.

“Your company I can happily endure.” Atekka smiled at him then she paused. “I wish, however, you would accept my offer of my lodge for your accommodation.”

“Truly, I am comfortable in the male lodge.”

“I just thought, your private disposition…” Atekka paused. “Marshal, may I speak candidly?” He nodded. “You seem determined not to accept any honour or consideration for the work you do. Other Marshals have come expecting all manner of treatment but you will not even allow me the kindness of offering you my lodge where you can rest quietly and alone.”

“But would I be alone?” Kotallo looked at her, his tone blunt.

Atekka reddened. “I assure you, Marshal, that I did not mean to imply…”

Kotallo held up his hand. “Commander Atekka, forgive me. I am merely cautious. I have had several…offers in the past in other settlements. I have never entertained them and would regret any misbehaviour, true or imagined, upon my part to negatively reflect Chief Hekarro. In the male lodge, there is no opportunity for any liaisons.”

“Your character and integrity honours your title and your Chief.” Atekka smiled at him. “However, I insist upon your resting comfortably in my lodge at least for tonight. Sentries patrol Thornmarsh during the night. I will have one take up post at the entrance, so that you know you will not be disturbed by an amorous young woman.”

Kotallo was going to argue then smiled and shook his head. “Hekarro was right to choose you as the Commander of the Lowland Clan. You are formidable, in word and in deed.”

Atekka nodded. “Then it is settled. Rest, Marshal. The Blood Choke will be there at midday. No need to rise early.”

Kotallo found sleeping in the Commander’s lodge to be much more comfortable than the male lodge. He would have slept in quite late if not for the constant sound of water playing havoc with his bladder. Once he had relieved himself he stepped out of the lodge onto the balcony and gazed in awe at the horizon. He had heard of the island of spires that could be seen from the western edge of Tenakth territory but the weather had never been kind to him to be able to see it for himself. However, on this morning, there was light cloud cover with sunlight glancing off the pristine white of their soft surface and, in the distance, large metal towers climbing towards the sky.

Kotallo stared, amazed at the sight of it.

He then heard Tenakth talking and some were singing. He glanced down and spied numerous Tenakth at the water’s edge, dragging in nets. Kotallo felt immediately invigorated and hurried down to the beach, bare foot and without his armour on. He grasped the nets and helped drag them to the shore, the silver and sometimes pink bodies of the fish caught in the woven nets flapping about wildly. The Tenakth were swift separating the ones that could be eaten and the useless fish, putting the edible ones into wicker baskets that were tethered to the underside of Thornmarsh so that they could drift in the water, keeping the fish alive for longer.

“Marshal,” Atekka called to him, holding out a narrow spear, “come and catch your breakfast.”

He smiled at her challenge and took the spear. It was much lighter than his own and he wondered if it would be any good at all.

“You’re not severing metal from machine,” Atekka promised, observing his doubt about the effectiveness of the weapon, “fish are much softer…but they are fast.”

She hiked up her skirts, wading hip deep into the water around clumps of rocks along the shoreline. Kotallo followed her movements, tiny silver fish swimming in groups around his ankles.

“A tender fish partial to the moss that grows on the rocks is our target.” She explained. “See there, its black body?”

Kotallo nodded. He watched as Atekka lifted her arm and held still, only her eyes moving to watch as the fish shifted and swam, darting to the rock, nibbling then darting away. Suddenly she rammed her spear down, holding on tightly to it then scooped it into the air, the fish skewered on the end.

“Well done.” Kotallo admired.

“I know what I am eating for breakfast,” she winked, “what will you have?”

Kotallo peered into the water, hunting for the same kind of fish. It took a while but he spied one. He tried to remember what Atekka had done but all his training, his fighting instinct told him to let go of the spear when he hurled it. Not only did he miss the fish but the spear tried to float away, not heavy enough to sink. Kotallo had to swim after it and came back, glaring at Atekka’s barely concealed smile.

“I will have my prey.” Kotallo muttered and tried again. It took several goes before he managed to strike the fish however, as he lifted it up, the damn thing slid off the end of his spear and he plunged into the froth after it, his hands slipping on its scaly body. At last he held it aloft and Atekka applauded him.

“Well done, Marshal. You will never go hungry again.”

Kotallo chuckled then saw children of Thornmarsh in the water, catching fish with their own spears. He looked at Atekka and sighed.

“I have learned to swim, catch fish and eat your slimy shell creatures,” Kotallo challenged, “one day, you will climb the March of the Ten.”

“I look forward to it.” Atekka laughed and they went back to Thornmarsh where the tenderness of the fish cooked on a griddle plate over hot coals was made even more delicious because he had killed it himself. Thankfully, one of the cooks had descaled it and gutted its insides for him. The flesh pulled easily away from its hair-like bones and Kotallo sucked the juices of his fingers.

“I thought I might go with you on your investigation of the Blood Choke.” Atekka remarked. “I want to check the markers, to see how much it has spread.”

“I will put my armour on and meet you at the main entrance.” Kotallo nodded and gathered his belongings. His armour was fitted and familiar and, in the early days, a little too drenched in memories. All of it was made from the armour of his lost squad members. Arakko’s made up the bulk of it as it fit the best however, he had Jayko’s hauberk belted onto his right shoulder and Alaika’s belt at his waist. Though the armour had been striped of Sky Clan colours, now dressed in the white, blue and yellow of the Marshals, it still pleased Kotallo to wear the armour of his fallen comrades.

It was as though they were always close.

As he gathered his belongings into his swag, a Tenakth cleared their throat outside the lodge.

“Marshal Kotallo, a runner has been spotted bearing Chief Hekarro’s colours.”

Immediately Kotallo left the lodge and hurried to where Atekka was watching the runner approach. She pointed and Kotallo nodded. The runner paused as the guards challenged him and he gave the code to enter then escorted him to where they stood.

“Marshal Kotallo,” he breathed heavily, “I bring a message from the Grove. You are to return immediately.”

Kotallo felt Atekka’s concerned look. Kotallo had been given several days to deal with the Clawstrider problem. There had been nothing urgent for him to address when he had left the Grove.

“Of course, I will come immediately.” Kotallo said.

“Am I summoned as well?” Atekka asked.

“No, Commander. Chief Hekarro has sent runners to all the Tenakth lands, gathering the Marshals back to the Grove.”

There had not been a gathering of Marshals at the Grove since the Kulrut which had made them Hekarro’s law bringers. Kotallo’s concerned heightened.

“For what purpose? Do you know?” He questioned.

The runner’s face was pale.

“There are Carja in the Daunt once more.”