Training with Gerrah was a great deal different to training with Pit Master Atikka. She recognised that Kotallo had no prior experience and after his battle with the fever, he was in need of fattening up. She made sure to feed him well, building up his strength and, when he’d gained a little meat on his bones, she instructed him, not in how to fight but in how to build muscle tone.

Jayko and Kotallo worked together, spurring each other on, chopping wood to build up their arm muscles, climbing ropes, developing their core strength and running gauntlets designed by Gerrah to warm up their legs. Though she was heavy with child, she was a deft instructor and though she was a mother, she was exacting in the standards she set out for each of them. Only once Kotallo could keep up with Jayko did she start teaching him battle techniques.

“If your opponent is larger than you, attacking him directly is an ineffective strategy. You must look for an opening and exploit it. If you are clever, it will not matter the size of your enemy…you will overcome them.”

Gerrah worked with him for a month. In that time, news continued to flow from Memorial Grove that Lankatta and her squads were keeping the Lowland Clan chieftain at bay.

However, after a month, Gerrah could no longer delay Kotallo’s return to the pit.

“Stand tall,” she told him, “and give that bully a scar of his own.”

Kotallo nodded. Though he was more confident upon entering the pit, when facing Amenka, his old fears returned.

“Why don’t you skip the bruising and just run straight out into the snow?” Amenka mocked.

Kotallo shivered, gripping his padded blade tightly.

“Are you going to talk me to death?” He demanded shakily.

A couple of the other boys snorted with laughter then clammed up at Amenka’s glare.

“I’m going to show you that padded blades still hurt.” He snarled and lunged at Kotallo.

For once, the young orphan was out of Amenka’s strike path, the overconfident blow sending Amenka sprawling. He turned and ran at Kotallo, bellowing.

“Loudness is no substitute for strength.” Kotallo chanted Gerrah’s words of wisdom, reminding himself not to be afraid of Amenka’s brash volume. He dodged Amenka’s next two blows.

“You run like a cowardly rat!”

“Only a fool responds to taunts.” Kotallo recited, staying out of Amenka’s reach. He had to wait. He had to bide his time. “The dead rush in while the living wait.”

Amenka’s rage was building. He could almost see the heat emanating from the taller boy’s body. Any moment now he would make a mistake.

Amenka charged at Kotallo. Kotallo held his ground before dropping and rolling, Amenka unable to stop before slamming into the wall of the training pit. He fell to the ground, stunned. Kotallo stared at him then looked at Atikka who folded his arms and his masked face turned towards the raised platform around the pit to look at Gerrah.

“Is this your doing?” He demanded.

“Perhaps.”

“Though Amenka fell, Kotallo failed to land one blow.”

“Wrong,” Gerrah replied coolly, “Kotallo didn’t attempt to strike Amenka. He used his wits to fell an opponent he would have fallen to if he’d fought your way.”

Atikka shook his head. “Gerrah…you will be the death of me…” He sighed and looked at Kotallo. “He is still hopelessly small.”

“He’ll grow.”

Two weeks later the Sky Clan squads returned to the Bulwark, Lankatta leading them. Though the soldiers were deflated, Lankatta seemed strangely calm. Kotallo and Jayko watched their return. Kotallo was happy to see that Tekotteh was alive and mostly uninjured.

“Sound the horn…I will speak with all the Sky Clan.” Lankatta announced.

Everyone gathered in the main thoroughfare, some sitting in the pit while the rest lined the edges. Kotallo and Jayko inched as close as they could to Lankatta. She lifted her gaze.

“Sky Clan…Memorial Grove has fallen to the Lowland Clan…to Chief Hekarro.”

Whispers of anger and indignation surged through the ranks of soldiers.

“We must retaliate!” Someone cried and the chant began.

Lankatta held out her hand until silence descended. “There is no need…for I have spoken with Hekarro along with Watika of the Desert Clan. There is to be…peace.”

“There can be no peace with other clans!”

“They will gut us in our sleep!”

“Sky Clan, hear me!” Lankatta cried. “The man who took Memorial Grove was not the same man who called for peace. Hekarro saw…a vision.”

“Memorial Grove has many visions!”

“No…a new vision.” Lankatta shook her head. “One where the Wings of the Ten were described as peacekeepers and not warmongers.”

Kotallo looked at Jayko who shrugged.

“Was this vision verified?”

“Only Hekarro saw it.”

“Then how can he make such a claim?”

Lankatta looked at her soldiers, her shoulders heavy. “Because we were in the Arena, awaiting our execution along with Desert Clan soldiers…but Hekarro told of the new vision…and let us go free to offer the prospect of peace to our clans.”

“What of the blood of our fallen kin?”

“What of the blood of theirs?” Lankatta returned firmly. “Sky Clan…all the Tenakth have suffered grievously. Our orphan lodge is full of children without parents and our parents have all lost a child. I would be a poor commander if I did not consider the chance for peace, where innocents were not slaughtered because of tribal rivalry.” Her words were stern but calm.

“How can Hekarro possibly hope to control all the clans, for that is what he is trying to do make no mistake!”

“Hekarro has taken the position of chieftain of Memorial Grove and appointed one of his squad members, Atekka, who endured trials to gain the position, to preside over the Lowland Clan. He does not wish for the clans to lose their identity, so he asked Watika and myself, along with Atekka, to carry this new vision to you.” The news was so profound, so unexpected that no one knew what to say. In the quiet, Lankatta continued. “Chief Hekarro has also asked that we sent our best warriors to Memorial Grove to participate in the Kulrut.”

“Killing for sport?” Atikka mocked.

“No…to be found worthy to be named Marshalls, outworkers of Hekarro’s will throughout the clans.”

Kotallo shuddered at the thought of leaving the snow and mountains.

The silence was…profound.

Lankatta looked around at them calmly. “I know you did not see Hekarro’s transformation with your own eyes…but will you trust mine?”

“Will Maina confirm it?”

Kotallo craned his neck, searching for the chaplain.

“Maina…is no longer with us.”

Kotallo’s heart sank. Another adult lost to him.

“And your will seriously does not demand vengeance?”

Lankatta opened her mouth then closed it. “I can only appeal to her daughter…to ask her what she would do. Gerrah?”

Kotallo looked at his trainer, surprised that she had not mentioned it. Gerrah put her hand on her belly, her eyes sparkling with grief but her countenance, calm.

“If the death of my mother brought about the possibility of peace…that my son or daughter,” she gazed at her abdomen, “indeed, all the orphans that Maina cared for,” her eyes flickered in Kotallo’s direction, “would face a future where they need not fear other Tenakth…then I bury the need for vengeance with my grief.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

There was a ripple of approval and surprise. Lankatta smiled warmly at Gerrah, knowing that she had turned the tide of support with her wise words.

Gerrah reminded him so much of his mother.

“We await word from Hekarro when the first Kulrut is to occur…and we shall all bear witness to a new era where the Tenakth attempt to live in peace.” Lankatta nodded. “To those who stood with me at Memorial Grove, those that are still standing and those that have left us…I thank you.”

She turned and left, heading up the mountain to the commander’s lodge.

Immediately Gerrah and Atikka followed her. Kotallo felt his hand grabbed.

“Come on,” Jayko hissed, “if we hurry, we can listen!”

Kotallo’s protests were left behind him as he was dragged up the path, higher than the commander’s lodge to where the rooftop met the cliff face. Because of Gerrah’s training, they were able to clamber down to the roof and squeeze their little bodies into the lodge, peering down into the chamber below.

“…really think that this peace endeavour,” Atikka spat the word ‘peace’ to one side, “is even possible?”

“It is…if Watika and myself agree to a ceasefire…and listen to Hekarro’s guidance.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing!”

“If you had only seen Hekarro’s demeanour, before and after…” Lankatta’s tone was hallowed. “Though Watika and I burn with hatred towards each other…I saw in her eyes the same chilled astonishment that was in me…though our clans could not be more different, suddenly…we understood each other.”

“She killed your husband!”

“And I killed her son.” Lankatta closed her eyes. “When will it end? Now…now it will end.”

Atikka snarled. “This is folly!”

“I am commander of the Sky Clan,” Lankatta stood up and eyed him sharply, “if you do not have the courage to challenge me in combat, then you will keep your mouth shut.”

Atikka’s jaw tightened. “Very well…but when this fails…my spear will be at your feet!”

He turned and stormed away. Lankatta sighed and sagged onto her chair. She looked at Gerrah. “You supported me in front of the clan…but I will hear your words now. Speak.”

“I have the same doubts as Atikka.”

Lankatta rubbed her face. “Why did you not say?”

“Just because I doubt, doesn’t mean I can’t hope that it might be possible.” Gerrah said firmly. “What if tomorrow we did not need to fear our Tenakth brethren? We all believe the same thing yet we have been trying to kill each other because the way we live is different. Is that truly a reason to kill? I know you have no love for Watika…but you have respect.”

“To survive in the desert…she is ferocious.” Lankatta sighed. “I do not know that I could ever sit across a feasting table and eat amicably with her…”

“Leave that for future generations not tainted with Tenakth bloodshed.” Gerrah knelt in front of Lankatta. “At least they might have the chance to do so.”

Lankatta smiled fondly at Gerrah. “You have your mother’s wisdom…and I am in need of a new chaplain.”

“I am not old enough.”

“True,” Lankatta shook her head, “and yet, I can think of no others to take Maina’s place…and should Atikka challenge my command of the Sky Clan and prevail…I would want someone like you offering wisdom to temper his attitude.”

Gerrah bowed her head. “If you appoint me, I will serve...” Gerrah paused. “My mother…did she suffer?”

“No. She was brave and strong and I will miss her presence…as I am sure you will too.”

Kotallo felt Jayko tap him and they wiggled out of the rafters, climbed the cliff and scampered back down to the settlement. Kotallo spied Tekotteh at the healer’s station, a wound on his arm sewn together by the stitcher as the healer prepared a poultice.

Tekotteh flinched as the stitcher tugged on the thread, snapping it.

“That is for all the times you mocked my chosen profession…now you will not even have a decent scar.” The stitcher, Yekka, remarked, turning to the healer. “He’s all yours.”

“Tekotteh!” Kotallo dashed forward. “You’re alive!”

“Of course I am,” Tekotteh shook his head, “though…I shouldn’t be.”

Kotallo stared at him. “Why?”

“Because the Grove was taken. Hekarro broke from Tenakth tradition when he did not kill the soldiers from the Sky Clan or the Desert Clan,” he spat, “soldiers who tried to sneak in and steal the Grove for themselves.”

“Mercy…it is unheard of in a Tenakth.” The healer pressed the herb poultice to Tekotteh’s arm. “Hold this while I strap it on.”

“By rights I should be dead…” Tekotteh pulled a face. “Hekarro thinks that mercy or compassion will help him ‘control’ the clans…but it will be his undoing.”

“Lankatta thinks he might succeed…” Jayko ventured from behind Kotallo.

“Lankatta has been swayed by pacifists and cowards…”

“Hold your tongue, Avak,” Tekotteh said sharply, seeing Kotallo’s face pale, “this is not the place for such words…”

Kotallo clenched his fists.

“My father was not a coward…” He said tremulously before running away to sit at the edge of the Bulwark, looking at the frigid valley below. He tucked his arms around his legs and trembled.

“Kotallo…”

He looked up at Tekotteh who approached his lonely position.

“He wasn’t a coward,” Kotallo snapped again, shivering, “if it wasn’t for the Desert Clan…”

“I know.” Tekotteh put a blanket around Kotallo’s shoulders. “You mustn’t let name callers rile you.” Kotallo burned with shame, having already forgotten some of Gerrah’s lessons. He vowed not to do so again. “Are you taller than when I last saw you? You look like you’ve gained a little weight too.”

“I’ve been training.”

“Atikka is an excellent Pit Master. He taught me everything I know.” Tekotteh nodded and Kotallo didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was Gerrah who had helped build his confidence. “This peace…I do not think it will last and when that happens, the complacent clans will fall. It would be worth continuing in your training, to become a soldier.”

Kotallo swallowed. “If…if I’m good enough…could I join your squad?”

“If I’m still leading the Bitter Breath.” Tekotteh chuckled then leaned back on his hands.

Kotallo gazed at him. “You might become one of Hekarro’s Marshals…”

“We’ll see…”

Chief Hekarro’s idea of peace was a lofty one and his vision was not shared by all Tenakth. Watika of the Desert Clan had her leadership challenged three times in six months by angry and vengeful soldiers who were sure they could do better. She cut them down quickly and, in the tradition of the Desert Clan, sought out their supporters and killed them too. Lankatta was challenged once by a squad leader. Kotallo had not been brave enough to watch the match, Jayko running to him afterwards and telling him that Lankatta was still their commander.

“She’s got to be the best fighter I’ve ever seen! She didn’t get hit once!”

Though Kotallo was sure Tekotteh was a better warrior than Lankatta, he was relieved his world did not suffer the loss of yet another familiar adult.

Atikka he could probably do without but while the Pit Master made no disguise of his disgust at the notion of peace, he merely trained the youths all the harder, citing that when things turned bad once more, he would not be responsible for the downfall of the Sky Clan.

Gerrah became the chaplain for the Sky Clan and as such, she watched over the orphans in the lodge. There was a lot of talk about Hekarro, about peace, about Atikka and Lankatta. Even Jayko and Kotallo wondered about who would end up leading the clan.

“Shanai says Atikka will challenge Lankatta by the end of the full moon.” Jayko hissed.

“Tekotteh could take her now.” Kotallo retorted.

“He’s not strong enough.”

“He’s plenty strong enough.”

Their banter caused them to miss the shadow across their table until a throat was cleared and they looked up to see Gerrah gazing down at them, her newborn in her arms.

“You know what I have said about this kind of talk…you will both take latrine duty tomorrow.”

Kotallo and Jayko sighed and nodded. They were silent as they finished their meals and climbed into their beds. The next day they performed the hateful duty of digging new holes for latrines. Markers showed where holes had been dug previously, far up the mountain and away from the Bulwark so they could not dig up an old site until after the defecation had disintegrated into the earth. It was cold and the ground was hard.

“Which one of us is going to get Lankatta’s bucket?” Jayko asked.

“Punch for it?”

Jayko nodded. They both balled up their fists, Kotallo striking down as Jayko drew his up then they swapped motions before slamming them together in the middle, their feet braced in the snow. When one of them lost their footing and slipped, the other was declared the victor.

Kotallo held on as tight as he could but Jayko was still stronger than him and he fell back.

“Here,” Jayko held out his hand and helped Kotallo to his feet, “I’ll get the bucket.”

Kotallo stared at him. “But…you won!”

“That just means I get to chose which chore I do.” Jayko winked and ran to the Bulwark.

Kotallo smiled and went back to digging. He paused long enough in his efforts to hear the crunch of snow and glanced over his shoulder, surprised that Jayko had been so quick to lug Lankatta’s bucket so far.

Gerrah gazed at him. Kotallo cringed.

“Sorry chaplain…” He blurted.

She said nothing but picked up Jayko’s pick and began working at the ground.

“No, chaplain,” he insisted, “that’s my job.”

“I am choosing to help you.”

“But…it’s punishment…”

“I have not come to take your place. I have come to help.”

Kotallo hastened to match her speed and vigour and they made good progress. When Gerrah paused, Kotallo allowed himself a moment to breathe.

“Kotallo,” she said and he looked at her, cringing, “would it have helped you more or less had I stood to one side and criticised your work or whispered to others about you?”

Kotallo thought that was obvious. “Less.”

“Watch your words, Kotallo…some people cultivate fear and uncertainty like the Utaru cultivate the ground. Do not be one of those.”

“Yes, Gerrah.” He nodded.

She smiled at him. “When you and Jayko are done, take some time to talk about what I have said and, more importantly, what I did.”

Gerrah’s quiet words of wisdom and firmness of will helped shape Kotallo’s upbringing. She continued to help train the young warriors in using their wits, looking for their opponent’s weaknesses and being mindful of their surroundings while Atikka drilled them in weapon techniques and strength. Between them, Kotallo began to thrive alongside Jayko.

Amenka still enjoyed knocking Kotallo onto his backside occasionally but his intimidation was lessening with every day as Kotallo recognised that Amenka only knew of one way to fight and that was head on. Kotallo could dodge and weave, he and Jayko playing games to sharpen their senses.

When a messenger from Chief Hekarro arrived, bearing news of the first Kulrut where warriors from all the clans would face machines in the Arena, there was a flurry of interest.

Lankatta chose three of her best warriors and when Atikka accused her of sending their best to be assassinated, she told him that she would be accompanying the warriors to bear witness to the first Kulrut. She added that he would be welcome to join the expedition, to which Atikka snorted and said his place was in the Pit.

Kotallo was a little disappointed that Lankatta did not choose Tekotteh to endure the trial to become a Marshall. Only the best were selected and he was sure his rescuer was good enough but though he led his own squad and was skilled and powerful, she passed him by.

Those that endured the Kulrut renounced their clans, pledging themselves to Chief Hekarro’s outworking of his vision of peace.

For a long time, the Sky Clan did not see any of these Marshalls and Kotallo wondered if Atikka had been right, that Hekarro had stolen the best warriors of all the clans, depriving them of their best defence.

However, after Kotallo had been at the Bulwark for a full year, a Marshall appeared at the foot of the mountain. She had once been of the Sky Clan but now she bore new inking, white, blue and some yellow. She spoke at length with Lankatta then left.

“Where will she go now?” Kotallo whispered to Jayko.

“She will take Hekarro’s judgement to all the settlements of the Tenakth.”

Kotallo looked at his best friend. “Even to the Desert Clan…or the Lowland Clan?”

“They can travel anywhere and everywhere.” Kotallo shivered. “Come on…let’s race!”