by Andrew Gates
His visitors all stood tall, aside for those injured, but bowed as he entered.
The two injured members of this council stared at Ikharus with a look of reverence in their wide eyes. The respect they displayed toward the new Supreme Chieftain felt entirely genuine. Despite nearly killing one another only a day earlier, it seemed all had already been forgiven. Ikharus had not spoken with either of them since the battle, but when this meeting was over, he planned to let them know he still held them both in high regard… and even considered them his friends.
“Please, do not trifle yourself with courtesy. You will find that I am not one for compliments. Please, be seated,” Ikharus said as he walked to the head of the long black table. He still found himself leaning on his scepter as a crutch every now and then. He knew it would take time for his wounds to fully recover.
Those in the room took to their seats, aside from the honor guards standing at attention with their backs against the walls and spears in their grasps.
Ikharus felt a pain shoot up his two front legs as he took a seat. He ignored the sensation and stared forward as if nothing had happened.
“So, I suppose there is much to discuss,” he said. He leaned his scepter against the table’s edge and waved his only claw in the air. “Who would like to begin?”
The table was quiet for a moment as all eyes searched the eyes of every other face in the room. But after several seconds, Kal Sanja, the only evolved-one among them, was first to speak.
“Your Majesty, may I be the first to congratulate you on your new position,” she said.
“Thank you for these kind words, Kal Sanja, but I have already made mention of my views on compliments. Furthermore, I cannot say I find these circumstances congratulatory anyhow. Kho Veznek, the Chieftess-slayer that he was, forced my actions to end his life. He left me with no alternative but to deliver swift execution. I never asked to be your Supreme Chieftain, but need demanded action. I am merely here to fulfill my duty to the Chiefdom.” Ikharus sighed and slowly glanced at the stub of his amputated arm. “Congratulations… this is the last word I would use.”
“Then let us be rid of such a word, Supreme Chieftain,” Kal Ezenkharam said, wisely moving to another line of conversation. Ikharus turned to face her as she adjusted in her casts and bandages. “If I may, your Majesty, I propose we discuss the state of the Chiefdom.”
“Yes, Kal Ezenkharam. That would be wise. There is much I find myself needing to know. I confess that I have been preoccupied with both my recovery and the crowning ceremony as of late. I have had little time to concern myself with the state of affairs on the surface.”
“It is understandable, your Majesty. We all find ourselves preoccupied aboard this ship. You, most of all, have no reason to apologize,” Ezenkharam replied. “But unfortunately, your Majesty, the news is grim. I am sorry to say the Kholvari Chiefdom is in chaos. We have had numerous confirmed reports of isolated incursions across the continent.”
“Incursions? Who is fighting us?” Ikharus wondered. This was the first he had heard about any attack. He leaned forward, eager to learn more.
“Ourselves, I’m afraid,” interjected General Kal Ri’Khor. She cleared her throat and looked Ikharus in the eye. “You see, following your ascension to the throne, our Chiefdom has grown divided in a rather brief period. Though most declare their allegiance to you, there are many in Kholvaria who do not see you as a ‘proper ruler’. As they see it, you unlawfully usurped the throne. For those Kholvari, their loyalty still lies with the late Kho Veznek. They want nothing more than to carry out his directive, as if he were still alive. To complicate matters more, there are others who never accepted Kho Veznek to begin with and have now publicly declared their loyalty to the late Supreme Chieftess. As you can imagine, this has created friction in many communities. Now followers of Kal Khtallia, Kho Veznek and Kho Ikharus battle each other across Kholvaria.”
Ikharus let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes. He had not even passed a single mandate yet and already his Chiefdom was in turmoil. He had fought through enemy lines, infiltrated bases without being seen, secured high-valued targets and been shot at more times than he could count. But, despite all the experience he had seen in battle, he knew nothing about ruling Kholvaria.
“Kho Ikharus? Are you well?” Quokka asked.
Ikharus reopened his eyes and met the old Kholvari’s gaze. He slowly nodded his head.
“I am fine, Kho Quokka. I just need time to process this news. My people are in open rebellion. As you can imagine, these words are not easy to hear.”
“I understand, your Majesty,” Quokka replied.
“To clarify, most of the Chiefdom remains loyal to you. Most are not in rebellion,” Kudulah said.
“And, your Majesty,” Ri’Khor added, straightening her back, “there is more. I have been given a recorded message to show you.”
“A message? From whom?”
“One of the many faces of rebellion. You shall see soon enough,” the general replied as she stood up from her seat and placed her holodisk on the center of the table.
Ri’Khor calmly nodded to an honor guard standing by the entrance. The guard nodded in response and moved to a control panel by the door. He lowered his spear and tapped an icon on the panel, prompting the overhead lights to dim.
A moment later, the holodisk lit up. The bright image of a scarred Kholvari face filled the air. His shell had dents and scratches here and there. His eyes were heavy. Whoever this Kholvari was, he appeared rugged and weary, as if he had withstood some great turmoil and narrowly endured.
“Greetings to the cowards who hide above the world in the safety of your precious Fruitful Spring. I trust this message will find you. I have taken significant efforts to see that it does.”
The Kholvari in the projection stared straight forward and his eyes seemed to meet those of Ikharus, as if he could see right through the camera. Ikharus stared right back, unafraid.
“My name is Chieftain Kho Prekhon, son of Kho Mohkzani, and I speak for the new Chiefdom of Vezaria. I have no doubt you wonder by what right I have to declare such a title and by what right I have to declare my own Chiefdom. Here lies your answer: Kho Veznek, our rightful Supreme Chieftain, was my uncle. As he did not name a successor before his death, such a position falls to me as my birthright.”
“He is wrong,” Kudulah clarified, interrupting the message. “Since the days of Kho Mattiakha, Supreme Chieftains were forbidden from appointing their own relatives as successors.”
Ikharus already knew this information, and he did not doubt that this Kho Prekhon character knew it too. Ikharus guessed that any excuse, whether legitimate or not, was probably enough for Prekhon to justify his own reign.
“My people are devoted to this Chiefdom’s true ruler, my uncle, Kho Veznek, who was slain protecting Kholvaria. His slayer sits on the throne now, a usurper, a murderer. He has no claim to the throne, but the strength of his spear!” Prekhon slammed his claw down before him in anger.
Ikharus noticed the evolved-one among them smile as she watched the footage. He knew she could not understand the rebel’s words through the speakers, yet was still getting a reaction out of it. Could she be somehow amused by his anger?
“The Chiefdom of Vezaria vows to destroy the usurper and to finish my uncle’s great work. But unlike my uncle, we shall remove more than just an arm from the murderer who sits on his throne. And if the murderer is listening, these next words are for him.”
Prekhon paused for a moment and stared straight into Ikharus’s eyes with the intensity of a piercing arrow.
“Kho Ikharus, we shall not rest until your head is mounted on a spike for all of Kholvaria to behold. We will destroy you and your regime and everything you stand for. The Chiefdom of Vezaria is ready and we will not hesitate to do what needs to be done.”
And with those words, the hologram went dark. The room remained silent for a moment as the honor guard slowly brought the lights back up.
“They do not trust me,” Ikharus said with an exhale. He slowly bobbed his head as he leaned back.
“But whether they trust you or not, you are still our Supreme Chieftain by right,” young Kudulah said, motioning to Ikharus. “Those who call you ‘usurper’, like this false Chieftain, are naught but traitors.”
“Slow your talk, Kho Kudulah. I would not be so brash as to trivialize the motives of those loyal to my predecessors. These are complicated times. There is much confusion in the air. I am sure the details of my ascension to the throne are often met with misunderstanding.”
“You are correct, Kho Ikharus,” Ri’Khor confirmed. “There is certainly much confusion spreading across the land, but I still side with Kho Kudulah when he suggests we view these rebels as traitors to the Chiefdom. They are attacking cities and settlements loyal to your name. This cannot stand. Law and order must be preserved, no matter the circumstances.”
Ikharus reluctantly bobbed his head. He had to admit it: Ri’Khor was right.
“I understand, General.” Ikharus shifted in his chair and looked down to the table. He did not feel like making eye contact right now. “As much as it pains me to silence the voices of those in my Chiefdom, it must be done, for the sake of law and order.” He slowly looked up to face his council again. “We must quell these rebels. I am the Supreme Chieftain now, not the late Kal Khtallia and certainly not the late Kho Veznek. Any open defiance of my mandate should be met with swift retribution.”
“What would you have us do, Supreme Chieftain? Lead an attack?” Ri’Khor asked.
“Negative, General. We must avoid violence whenever possible. Remember, many of these so called ‘traitors’ are likely caught up in surprise and confusion. They reject me because they do not understand why I had to do what I did. When possible, we must fight these enemies with information, not with weapons. I would call for diplomacy and negotiation, not violence.”
“And when that fails?” Sanja asked, leaning forward with a raised brow.
“And if that should fail,” Ikharus answered, turning to meet the evolved-one’s gaze, “then we attack. But ultimately, preserving lives takes priority.”
“Our resources are thin, Kho Ikharus. Until spending increases across the cities, and our economy starts to grow again, it may be difficult to articulate your message to these rebels given what we have to work with,” added Quokka.
“I understand, Kho Quokka, and I thank you for the wise words. I know this will not be easy. Rebels like this Kho Prekhon are often fueled by a passion that is hard to quell,” Ikharus agreed. “But still, we must try. If I turned my back to my challenges, then I would not be sitting here with you all today.”
Ikharus grew silent after saying those words. Those around the table were silent too. In that moment, Ikharus could not help but remember his friends who had fought alongside him to face against Kho Veznek. He could see them so clearly, as if they were here before his very eyes.
They were all so brave. It occurred to him in that moment that he had still not learned of their fates. He knew that some of them had fallen, but his memory was hazy. He could not remember anything about that battle clearly.
“If I may, I know I am jumping to a new subject here, but I have not yet heard the status of those I fought alongside to reach Kho Veznek. How fare my injured allies?” Ikharus quietly asked, slowly looking at each of the faces in the room.
“I am sorry, Kho Ikharus. I should have informed you sooner,” Kudulah said in an apologetic tone.
“No, allow me, Kho Kudulah. It was by my spear that his friends met their fate. I am to blame and it should be I who delivers the news,” Kozakh said, motioning to Kudulah. He stood up from his seat before Ezenkharam’s claw rose to the air.
“You are not the only one to bear blame, Kho Kozakh,” Ezenkharam added. “I too led the attack against Kho Ikharus and his friends. I betrayed his loyalty and his trust. If you recall, it was by my cannon that his arm was separated from his body.”
“Please, do not blame yourselves,” Ikharus said, leaning forward. He looked them both in the eye. “Kho Kozakh, Kal Ezenkharam, you both did your duties. I know your allegiance belongs to the Chiefdom. You are not traitors. You are far from traitors. I am proud to have you both by my side. It was naught but poor circumstances that brought our paths to confrontation.”
Both injured soldiers nodded back to their Chieftain. Ikharus wanted to save those words for later, but he supposed now was as good a time as any.
“Now please,” Ikharus continued with a deep breath, “I do not care whose mandibles deliver the news, but someone please tell me, what has become of those who fought by my side?”
Kozakh stood as tall as he could on his crutch and cleared his throat.
“Kal Jakhu and Kho Evirak are both here aboard this ship, healing. Their wounds were great, but they are making a strong recovery. Kal Ukhrani is alive too, though she fled to Earth in your spacecraft,” Kozakh explained, keeping eye contact with Ikharus all the while.
“And the others?” Ikharus asked.
Kozakh lowered his head and let out a deep breath.
“They have all perished. The battle claimed their lives.”
Ikharus leaned back in his seat and felt his muscles go numb. His head began to spin. He tried to stabilize himself with his left arm, before remembering that no such arm existed. He nearly fell from his seat but adjusted and caught himself at the last second.
Eight set out on the mission. Only four survived. Veznek had claimed the lives of half his numbers.
“Kho Ikharus? Are you well?” Quokka asked again.
“Provide him some time, Kho Quokka. He has just learned the fate of his friends. This is difficult news to hear,” Ezenkharam said.
Quokka was silent after that. The whole room was silent.
Amidst the quietness of it all, Ikharus could not help but wonder if it had all been worth it. He had lost an arm, lost his allies and now factions of rebellion rose throughout the Chiefdom.
Maybe he would have been better off, maybe Kholvaria would have been better off, if Ikharus had just stayed behind in T’Dakho.
Ruling Kholvaria. There can be no more daunting task than this, Ikharus thought as he shifted in his seat.
It was a lie to say that all Kholvari rulers who preceded him were perfect, but they were all certainly better prepared for the job than he was. Even their family lines better justified their rulership. Many came from lines of past hierarchs or other champions of the political sphere. Even Veznek, as corrupt as he was, had been more properly seasoned for the job than Ikharus. He knew this world, this game. Ikharus did not.
Unlike the many Supreme Chieftains and Chieftesses that preceded him, Ikharus was not born to any great line. He was an orphan, raised by Chiefdom itself. The closest thing he ever had to a mother was the orphanage supervisor and the closest thing to a father, his drill sergeant.
Ikharus knew little of his own origins, though his unique name may have held some clues. Ikharus was not a name common among the Kholvari, with its sharp s-sound punctuating the final syllable. When asked about his name, he shrugged it off as a mystery. He was not concerned about etymology and had no desire to dig further, though a part of him could not help but wonder as well at times.
Ikharus heard whispers in the military orphanage that took him in that his mother was a half-breed who went by a traditional Sorrevahni name, Sahl Iserus. But this was just a rumor told by nymphs. Those words could not be confirmed. Ikharus had never known his parents and though he now had the means to search for their identities, he chose not to. As far as he was concerned, they abandoned him for a reason. He would not seek to undo their wishes. It was the respectful thing to do.
If Ikharus carried Sorrevahni blood in his veins, it did not show. His shell was just as dark as that of any Kholvari around him. Nobody suspected a thing about his identity until they heard his name, and even then, only those with a wise knowledge of etymology would even blink upon hearin
g it.
But most importantly, if it ever got out that Ikharus was a quarter Sorrevahni, he knew that the number of those loyal to him would fall even greater than it already had. Kholvaria and Sorreveous may have been at a ceasefire, but it was a tumultuous ceasefire, one which could turn to war at a moment’s notice. There was little love for anyone with Sorrevahni blood in the Chiefdom, hierarch or not.
Ikharus knew he was walking a fine line in more ways than one. He had to be careful. A single mistake could lead to his entire undoing… and the Chiefdom’s.
“I can tell you are worried,” a voice echoed through the translator in Ikharus’s head. The words pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up to face the evolved-one who stared back at him.
“Yes, Kal Sanja,” he replied, slowly nodding. “I admit this news brings me worry; news of rebellion, news of my allies… all of it.”
“And you’re second guessing yourself, aren’t you?” she asked, leaning forward.
“Why would you say this? He is the Supreme Chieftain! Have you no respect?” Ezenkharam spat.
“Sorry, sorry,” Sanja said, lifting both hands to the air. “I’m still getting used to your customs here. Forgive me if I say something out of turn.”
“No, it’s… it’s fine, Kal Sanja. I understand that you are new to this world. And you are right to presume that I am having second thoughts about this undertaking,” Ikharus replied.
“Don’t,” Sanja boldly replied. She leaned forward over the table. “You are the Supreme Chieftain. Your power is absolute. That’s what the word ‘supreme’ means, isn’t it? Nobody can challenge you. So what if these rebels take issue with your rule? Crush them. Defeat them. Show them who truly holds power in this continent. Let go of any second thoughts you might have. I know it is only natural to have these thoughts and emotions, but your humanity or… I guess… Kholvarity comes off as weakness in this job. We can’t let anyone see that.”
“You speak as if you have ruled yourself. From what I have been told, your own people casted you out before you joined the ranks of Kho Veznek,” Ikharus replied.
