The Other Huntress (Kotallo/OC)

Chapter Three: The Marshall

Ladies and gentlemen, it's time...

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To say Kotallo was frustrated would be...a laughable understatement. To propose there was nowhere the Marshall would rather be than stuck in the den of scheming snakes and treacherous deceivers that was the Bulwark, would be a capital dishonesty. Yet, here he was, standing amid Tekotteh's chamber, the proud blue, white, and yellow of his markings nearly drowned out by the flapping curtains bearing the Sky Clan's colors: flaring magenta, blue, and black. Colors he had once worn proudly, in a different life. The Commander of said clan sat reclined atop his stone throne; the very reason Kotallo had returned to his former home in the first place.

"Speak if you wish," Tekotteh drawled, casting his beady eyes upon him, "but nothing you say will change my mind, Marshall." Kotallo's frown, if possible, deepened further. Tekotteh was the only Tenakth who could morph his title of honor into a bitter insult-probably because as far as Tekotteh was concerned, it was little more than an indignity.

"Perhaps you misunderstand me," he seethed, hands clenched into fists. "Your chieftain has agreed to an Embassy with the Carja, and each of the clans have been ordered to participate by sending their soldiers."

"Treaty with the Carja-never!" Tekotteh howled, spitting near Kotallo's feet. "I forbid my soldiers from parleying with those slavers!" Anger flared white-hot in Kotallo's veins, clamoring for retaliation, to spit against Tekotteh's feet in turn, but for the sake of his chieftain-for the sake of all he had built since the Kulrut that had seen him named Marshall-he endured. He would not allow himself to be unbalanced by the remnants of his past, however painful the wounds remained. One way or another, the Sky Clan would be at the Embassy, he would see to that. If Tekotteh wouldn't cooperate, then he was merely an obstacle to be circumvented.

"I will not waste my time here any longer," he said, voice echoing through and out of the rocky chamber. "If you refuse to follow your chieftain's orders, I will leave you at his mercy, Commander." Deciding there was nothing further to gain from speaking with his former mentor, Kotallo marched out of the chamber and into the brisk air of the Bulwark, a fortress nestled into the Sheershide Mountains. Even now, the cold mountain wind served to calm his heated mind, senses honing in on the elements around him. Tekotteh didn't matter, none of it did. All that matters is serving the Tenakth. 

Still, he couldn't deny the part of his heart that ached upon seeing his once-home, his once-clan. Try as he might, he couldn't bury the memories of long nights spent laughing and drinking with his squad; imprinting tokens of his accomplishments onto his skin at the dyer, or sparring in the melee pit with Erayyo and Virakk. Now, however, he was on the outside looking inward; no longer a warrior of the Sky Clan, but a Marshall of the Tenakth.

"I take it the conversation with the Commander was not particularly fruitful?" The Sky Clan's Chaplain, Gerrah, inquired, approaching the young Marshall. A well-seasoned warrior, she wore the marks of both battle and age with the respect and strength of a true Tenakth, and had been a member of the clan since long before Kotallo's time.

"Unfortunately, no," he admitted. "As expected, Tekotteh refuses to budge. He's grown bolder since Regalla's banishment." Since Hekarro lost his sharpest spear, one even Tekotteh was forced to abide by.

"There is nothing to be done about that now," she began, "but I assume you are intent on finding a way for the Sky Clan to be present at the Embassy regardless?"

"I am. Hekarro has made it clear that all three clans must present a united front to the Carja."

"I was certain that was the case. I'll admit, I can't deny that the thought of peace with the Carja makes me uneasy, but for the Tenakth, I shall help you see it through. I have asked around, and I've managed to find a few soldiers willing to go against Tekotteh."