Kotallo hoped that by joining a squad, he would be thrust into a world of grand battles, glorious wars and have his skin inked with conquests that would go down in Sky Clan history.

What he got was patrol duty and drilling by the new Pit Masters, Erayyo and Virakk. The furthest he got from the Bulwark was Stone Crest, the largest southern settlement of the Sky Clan that used to keep a lookout for Desert or Lowland Clan Tenakth. While this was a thrilling notion for him, Kotallo was disappointed that, besides being much smaller and less fortified, there was little difference between the Bulwark and Stone Crest.

The Orphan Squad performed well together and despite the limitations put on their movements, restricted almost entirely to the Sheerside Mountains of the Sky Clan territory, Kotallo was content with his lot. His fellow squad members were excellent companions and Tekotteh sometimes invited Kotallo to dine with himself and his bodyguards, the former members of Bitter Breath, in the main lodge. There Tekotteh introduced Kotallo to Machine Strike, a game of strategy and cunning which Kotallo was terrible at…in the beginning. With Tekotteh’s tutelage, he began to learn the tricks, the skills and gained the experience to become a better player.

Kotallo’s world would be complete if he could find a way to get Olenka’s attention but she seemed to be completely preoccupied with being appointed her own squad. Tekotteh had not relented on his decision and to add salt onto an open wound, it was rumoured that Inala, Olenka’s rival, would be getting her own squad before the winter storms which seemed to come sooner and last longer every year.

Though these were difficult months for the Tenakth, the storms also discouraged the Carja from advancing their front line and as such, Kotallo had yet to fight a person, settling for machines instead that prowled the valley. He knew he shouldn’t be thankful that the machines were growing in savagery every season but they at least gave him opportunity to practice his combat skills. Then news came of a new machine that chilled even the hardiest hunter who had lived through the coldest winter to the core.

“A machine that you cannot see?”

“Correct.” The Marshal answered Gerrah’s question as he announced the new machine. He wore the adornments of a Lowland Clan member and even as a Marshal, he still kept the look although the colours had changed from dark reds and turquoise to blue and yellow, signifying service to Hekarro. “It has been named, Stalker, for it has the ability to appear and disappear. It has stronger armour than any other machine before it and it has lasers and also drops mines that explode after a time. The scouts say that they mostly occupy the Lowland territory but a Sky Clan hunter claims to have seen one in the Sheerside Mountains before it disappeared.”

“This has yet to be verified,” Tekotteh interrupted, “however, we have scouts looking for it and when we find it, a Sky Clan hunting party will take it down,” he looked at the Marshal who once hailed from the Lowland Clan, “and do what the Lowlanders could not.”

“Then you will have my admiration.” The Marshal responded graciously.

Unfortunately for Sky Clan’s pride as well as Tekotteh’s, the Stalker not only avoided being seen, it also killed the scouts who were trying to track it down. Because it could kill from a distance, it was impossible to know where it was when it had struck. As such, Tekotteh ordered all squads returned to the Bulwark and, somewhat reluctantly, allowed a single squad to go with the Marshal to the Lowland Clan where they knew of Stalker territory and could study it so that, when they returned, they would be able to deal with their invisible problem.

Kotallo knew the Orphan Squad were too green to be chosen to go but he wished fervently that Tekotteh might have sent them with the Marshal just so they could stretch their legs and expand their experience. From Olenka’s expression as she watched the Marshal leave with the squad, her fingers curled up into fists, he was not the only one who felt hemmed in.

And yet, despite the close quarters of the Bulwark and their almost ‘moment’ atop the March of the Ten, Kotallo had yet to say anything to Olenka.

“One day,” he breathed as she argued with Shenay outside the pit, “one day…ow!”

“Pay attention!” Erayyo barked and Kotallo turned his focus back to the Pit Master and tried not to get hit again.

It didn’t work. Jayko packed snow into a parcel and handed it to him. Kotallo grimaced and pressed it to his head.

“I know, I know…I should have seen that coming.” Kotallo muttered. “I thought Atikka was a good warrior…now I know he spent most of his energy and training on sowing dissent. Erayyo and Virakk are vicious.”

“And you weren’t distracted at all by the pretty face that wandered by?” Jayko snorted at him and Kotallo sighed. “Look at it this way, when I eventually lose my head over someone…you can mock me to death as payback.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Kotallo muttered. Not long later the snow had melted. He went outside to replenish the poultice with fresh snow. As he was kneeling, the weak sun barely enough to cast a decent shadow, he heard his name whispered urgently. He looked up to see Shenay hovering nearby. He opened his mouth to speak but she put her finger to her lips and urged him to come closer until they were out of sight of anyone else. “What’s wrong?”

“Olenka has left the Bulwark.”

Kotallo stared at Shenay, stunned. “But…Tekotteh has instigated a curfew.”

“I know.”

“Unless you’re on duties specific to beyond the Bulwark, no one is to leave.”

“I know.” Shenay wrung her hands together. “She snuck out. She’s furious with Tekotteh for denying her a squad of her own and Inala has been boasting about her machine kills getting his attention and that she’ll be named squad leader soon…”

“But…there is a Stalker in the valley.”

“She…you know how stubborn she is, even more so during blood rush,” Kotallo didn’t know what Shenay meant but the young woman was distraught and he was worried about Olenka, “so she decided to risk Tekotteh’s wrath…and dispatch it herself.”

“What!” Kotallo’s cry was hardly loud but Shenay shushed him violently. He nodded and whispered. “She’s going to get herself killed!”

“Or worse, she’ll be reprimanded by Tekotteh for defying his orders without a machine kill to defend herself and she’ll never get her own squad.”

“How is that worse than death?”

“You know Olenka,” Shenay breathed with obvious infatuation, “she would see such a punishment, as Inala eclipses her, as the worst possible life imaginable.”

Kotallo ran his hands over his head, wincing at the bump and gash he’d received earlier. “I’ll go after her.” He decided quietly. “I’ll bring her back…but I don’t see how she got out of the Bulwark. Tekotteh won’t allow any unrestricted access to the lift.”

“There’s a back way known only to a few. It’s not an easy climb…”

“I’ll be fine as long as you bring me my spear and show me the path.” Kotallo assured her.

Shenay retrieved his spear promptly and showed Kotallo the start of the backtrack out of the Bulwark. Kotallo recalled it from when he was a child. He and Jayko used to run up and down it, timing their runs from the Bulwark. They had always stopped when they came to the supposedly impassable spot but Shenay explained how to find the path down. It wasn’t much more than a goat trail and Kotallo slipped and slid his way until, with great relief, he made it to the valley floor.

Then he paused to catch his breath, squatted and studied the ground. It had not snowed since the night before and the tracks of Olenka were clear and fresh. He followed them as they went directly to where one of the scouts had died because of the Stalker. There was still blood on the snow and straight gashes on the tree unlike any claw marks Kotallo had seen before.

“Must have been from its laser.” He mused, following Olenka’s footprints. “Now, where did you go?” He followed her tracks until the path began to curve around, heading back towards the Bulwark. And then, he didn’t need to follow tracks anymore. The sound of a fearsome battle could be heard ahead. The metallic scream of a machine filled the air and the grunt and war cries of a female voice.

Kotallo sprinted towards the sounds, making sure to keep to the shrubbery. He would be stronger and a more deadly opponent if his first blow was unexpected. He pressed himself against a large rock and saw Olenka stabbing at a machine as black as ash blood which the Desert Clan used to mark their skin with. It flailed its front claws at her, long and able to reach while its tail whipped around, bladed and deadly. Its long snout snarled ferociously at her and she, without fear, snarled back. She was glorious in combat, even more so than ever before and Kotallo was taken by the sight of her, slicing at the machine.

It was not shooting its laser so he guessed Olenka had wisely dispatched the weapon with a tearblast arrow and its hind legs weren’t working properly.

Kotallo heard the words of his father.

“A machine’s legs give it flight or fright. If they are broken, then the machine is vulnerable.”

Olenka would vanquish the Stalker and mark its carcass with her signature so that all would know it was she who had rid the valley of its deadly presence. Kotallo counted himself privileged to be able to watch. He sidled closer, eager to witness the final blow, his own spear forgotten in his hand in his rapture.

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Olenka gave a mighty screech and thrust the Stalker with her spear, so hard it ran it through. The Stalker gave a gurgle, writhed in death throes before collapsing to the ground, twitching once or twice then was still.

Olenka was breathing heavily, her bosom barely contained by her custom armour designed by Lankatta’s own stitcher. Kotallo still wore cobbled together armour and he admired the way Olenka’s showed off her figure so that she was not only violent but femininely so.

Kotallo watched as she knelt by the Stalker in order to mark it…then he saw a strange shift beyond her in the trees…like the air was being poorly reflected in a lake’s broken surface. Kotallo’s breath caught in his chest as a second Stalker flickered into view, its blackness looming towards an unaware Olenka before it rippled and disappeared from the casual eye.

But Kotallo had marked its location and now that he knew what to look for, he could make out its presence.

Olenka heard the snarl of the Stalker a split second before it was on her. She looked up to see its snout bearing merciless teeth snarling, ready for the kill.

Kotallo stood, pulled back his arm and released his spear, the tip of it sinking into the Stalker’s skull. The blow was a miraculous one, striking true and killing the Stalker outright.

It gurgled and hissed, fell onto its side and moved no more.

Kotallo was already sprinting towards Olenka. He grasped her shoulders and spun her around. “Olenka, are you alright?”

She stared at him with her bright blue eyes and her lips perfectly parted and desperately in need of kissing. But where he thought he would receive praise or even a reward, she only ripped into him with cold words.

“How…dare you!” She cried. “That was my machine! My kill! You had no right to take it from me!”

He stared at her, undone by her reaction. He had been noble, protective and valiant…but all she had seen was disgrace and dishonour.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Olenka demanded. “Have you been spying on me? Stalking me like these vile machines were?” Kotallo was mute in the face of her accusations. “Why don’t you ever say anything!”

Even in anger, she was beautiful and Kotallo could not stand to be so close to her lips and not do anything about it. He cupped her face and kissed her. A thrill like lightning ran through his body as he pressed his lips onto hers.

It was wonderful, everything he had ever dreamed it would be…

…until she slapped him.

Kotallo put his hand to his cheek, ankle deep in the icy flow of the stream.

Olenka’s hand was still in the air, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed with blush so pink it dulled the Sky Clan’s colours. Suddenly she launched herself at him, her lips crashing against his harder than he had pressed to hers. The assault was so strong, so violent, that Kotallo lost his balance and fell into the grasses that lined the stream.

It was as violent as the skirmish with the Stalkers, their bodies almost wrestling on the earth, scant inches from corpses of two deadly machines, their dark fluid leaking into the stream that nipped at Kotallo’s heels. In the grass, the snow and amidst the cold pinch of unyielding metal, Kotallo and Olenka became one.

After it was over, he reached up to caress her face but she drew away from him, turning her back to his body. Kotallo watched her go, confused then felt warm stickiness between his legs. He looked down and saw his manhood and loins were smeared with blood…a lot of it.

Dismay flooded him. “Did I do that to you?” He gasped.

“It is the blood rush.” Olenka said tightly, splashing water from the stream onto her legs, the red turning pink as it rinsed away.

“Blood rush?”

She turned and looked at him. “Don’t you know anything about women?”

Kotallo shrugged helplessly. He knew enough to obviously make sense of what just happened between them…but as for the ways of a woman…

Olenka was preoccupied with cleaning her body. Kotallo allowed her the privacy to do the same. It seemed quicker for him to complete his ablutions and when he was done, he drew close to Olenka and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Don’t touch me,” she ordered, drawing away from him and glancing back, “and don’t look at me like that.” She folded her arms, defensive yet oddly unsettled. “This…what just happened…it can’t happen again.”

Kotallo knew he should be strong, to take her rebuff in his stride but after what he felt, what they’d done…he was vulnerable.

“Olenka…I…”

“Don’t say it.” She snapped and then licked her lips, her hands running through her dark hair, shaved on one side so that her Sky Clan inking could be clearly seen. “You…you don’t understand…I can’t be with anyone. I can’t be…bonded,” she said the word as though it was foul to taste, “to anyone. A woman who is bonded is expected to be with child and then confined to her home…I don’t want that!” She swallowed. “I am this close to being the youngest squad leader in the Sky Clan…what happened between us…if he knew…” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she opened her eyes and steeled her gaze, “never again.”

Kotallo watched as she pulled her spear from the Stalker she had killed and scrubbed her mark from its hide.

She despised him and what they had done so much that she wouldn’t take credit for the kill. Kotallo closed his eyes and sighed. He went to the second Stalker and yanked his spear from its skull.

“We should go back before we’re missed.”

Kotallo nodded and followed behind her like a shadow, one that was made from lead. By the time he reached the Bulwark from the back passage, Olenka had already been inside for twenty minutes. The sun was setting and the shadows were as drawn out as his mood. He declined to eat, going to his bed, trying to wonder how he’d managed to get it all so wrong.

For one glorious moment it had been right…

…and then…

Jayko asked him how his head was the next morning.

“You missed a drunken Elekkto singing…badly last night.”

“Sounds like I was right to go to bed early.” Kotallo muttered into his breakfast. He pushed the gruel around his bowl, uninterested in eating.

“You okay? Your head still hurting?”

“Sure.” Head…heart…all of him ached with a sadness of longing.

“Hrm…well…when you’re ready to tell me the truth…I’ll be here.” Jayko patted him on the shoulder and left Kotallo to his misery.

Kotallo went to the whetstone and sharpened his spear. As he did so, a scouting party returned via the lift and hastened to Tekotteh’s lodge. Only minutes later Tekotteh and his bodyguards followed the scouts to the lift and out of the Bulwark.

“What’s that about, I wonder?” The weapon’s smith remarked.

Kotallo said nothing. He knew. The scouts had found the carcases of the Stalkers.

“Must be something big for Tekotteh to ascend from his perch of command.”

“He’s the Commander of the Sky Clan,” Kotallo rebuked without heat, “where else would he be?”

“Lankatta was almost never in her lodge when she was in command. Only in her later years did I notice that she spent more time there…and yet still no where near as much as Tekotteh.” The weapon’s smith, a man with a keen eye for detail, looked at Kotallo. “What have you been up to, to dull your spear so? You use padded blades in the Pit and your squad has not been assigned scouting duty for over a week.”

Kotallo swallowed and went back to sharpening his spear.

An hour later, Tekotteh returned and the carcases of the Stalkers were displayed on spikes in the Pit. He gave orders to study one and pull it to pieces while the other would be sent with the Marshal, a gift for Hekarro.

“See now, what the Sky Clan did what the Lowland Clan could not?” Tekotteh bragged proudly.

“You might produce fine warriors…but also insubordinate ones. After all, didn’t you decree that no one but scouts could leave the Bulwark?” The Marshal said and Tekotteh bristled.

“My people knew what needed to be done and as such, tonight I proclaim a feast!”

Sky Clan feasts were celebrated with meat cooked on spits, cooks preparing their signature dishes and ale…lots and lots of ale. Kotallo stared bitterly at the Stalkers in the Pit, his countenance grim as the dancing around him became more and more ungainly and the voices of even his fellow squad members grated on his nerves.

“Kotallo,” he looked up to see one of Tekotteh’s men standing over him, “your Commander wishes you to join him.”

Kotallo nodded and stood up, handing his undrunk ale to Arakko who downed it without hesitation. He followed the bodyguard up the steep slopes and steps to the lodge of the commander and ducked his head to get through the doorway. Tekotteh was enjoying his personal feast with the best cook of the Sky Clan serving him.

“Kotallo! Come!” Kotallo did so, wondering if Tekotteh suspected his involvement with the slaying of the Stalkers. As he walked towards Tekotteh he noticed that Inala was sitting by his side, fawning over him. “Sit and drink with us!”

A space was made for him and he sat down. When he looked up he spied Olenka’s blue eyed gaze from across the low feasting table. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to eat a bite.

“The slaying of the Stalkers will go down in history,” Tekotteh sighed, “if only we knew who to attribute the kills to.”

“There is the possibility that the hunter was not of the Sky Clan…” The Marshal had the impudence to imply.

“Impossible,” Tekotteh retorted, “Stone Crest keeps a careful watch on the pass into the mountains. Any intruder would have been seen.”

“Your watchtower to the west has been abandoned, has it not? Isn’t it possible someone came via that route?”

“We gave up that watchtower because of the toll the constant attacks of machines took on those assigned to it,” Tekotteh insisted, “and now that Hekarro insists that we are at peace with our fellow Tenakth, surely one would not dare trespass on Sky Clan territory without making themselves known?”

The Marshal smiled without flinching at Tekotteh’s taunt.

“Surely…” He said, sipping his ale. “I am curious about what you would do should the hunter responsible for the kills reveal his or herself.”

Kotallo kept his eyes hard fixed on the table before him, unable to swallow.

“I would commend his noble actions.” Tekotteh insisted.

Kotallo’s eyes lifted slightly to spy Olenka’s indignant expression. She licked her lips and drank from her ale.

“Even though he or she deliberately defied your orders?”

Tekotteh waved his hand. “Clearly the hunter remains anonymous because all he wanted was to keep the Sky Clan safe. We should respect his confidence.”

The Marshal made a musing noise. “Even if a hunter should rise and claim responsibility…without the word of a witness, the claim will always be suspected.”

Olenka’s eyes flickered to Kotallo’s. His jaw was so tight he thought it might snap.

“Kotallo!”

“Yes sir!” Kotallo exclaimed in fright, bumping the table, spilling ale onto Tekotteh’s lap.

Tekotteh swore and stood up. “Kotallo…what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing sir! I…I’m sorry, sir.” Kotallo blundered.

“Get me another drink.” Kotallo did as he was told, dipping Tekotteh’s stein deep into the barrel of ale. He brought it back carefully and put it down in front of Tekotteh. To cover the embarrassment of his actions, Tekotteh had asked Pilo to tell the tale of the March of the Ten. Pilo had a naturally deep, textured voice and because of his appointed task as keeper of the march, he knew the story inside and out. Kotallo stepped back, hiding within the shadows, hoping to remain unnoticed. When he was sure all eyes were on Pilo, he slipped around the walls of the lodge and out the way he’d come in. He hadn’t even managed a single mouthful of ale.

Light snow was falling, dusting his shoulders as he trudged down the slope…

…when a hand grasped his and dragged him into the stitcher’s alcove.

Though it was night, the moon had been bright and Kotallo’s eyes struggled to adjust before a mouth covered his, a tongue running over his lips that sparked his desire into a full fury.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” Olenka’s voice whispered and he blinked, her features sharpening as his eyes adjusted. “The way you were…your body…the way you made me feel…” She stepped back from him. “I can’t be bonded, Kotallo…don’t ask me…but I can’t…I must…”

“Olenka,” Kotallo said brokenly, “I will do whatever it takes to be with you.”

Olenka breathed in and out slowly. “I…we cannot be known. Once a month I am yours, for a few days…”

“Once a month?” Kotallo breathed.

“I am on patrol, on duty…I must be seen to be a warrior uninterested in bonding and domestic life.” Olenka insisted. “But…when I send word…will you say yes?”

“Yes.”

“No matter where?”

“Olenka…I will always say yes.” Kotallo vowed, his brain completely silenced, his mouth speaking purely from the demand of his loins.

“No one must know.”

Kotallo’s brain switched off while his lust ran rampant.

“No one…”

“Promise me! No one must know!”

“I swear it!”

Though he would never forget the first time he’d been with her, Kotallo could say without hesitation that making love in the stitcher’s alcove was far more comfortable.

And when they were done, Olenka promised to send word to him.