Renegade of Callisto

Dawn flared above the Hidden Valley of Sargol on the day after Koja had led the Kandars through the pass and into the heartland of his race.

It lit to flame the golden skies of Callisto, gleaming upon the walls of the Arena, the row upon row of Yathoon tents, and illuminating the tiered citadel of the Arkon.

With dawn, Koja broke his fast with his chieftains. Then, with Borak at his right hand, he and his chieftains rode across the Valley to the citadel which soared against its farthest wall.

There, in the great hall before the Arkon’s throne, all of the high chiefs of the five Clans were assembled, with their chieftains.

With the Arkon and his retinue leading the way, the lords and princelings of the Horde descended by a secret stair behind the Arkon’s throne into a mighty cavern hollowed deep within the living rock of the mountains.

They went in solemn silence. Only the clink of their weapons and accouterments and the tramp of many feet broke the sepulchral silence of this hallowed place.

They descended to look upon the precious and jealously guarded secret which their forefathers had hidden from the world for a thousand generations.

Deep within the cavern they entered into a chamber. It was capacious, that niche within the rock, and roofed with crystal so that the glory of the daylight fell in splendor upon rich carpets and silken cushions and the dainty furnishings wherewith the gaunt walls of stone and the rocky floor were rendered sumptuous.

There they looked upon the females of their race.

In all respects, the females of the Yathoon are identical to the males, but they are smaller and slimmer of build, and their mandibles are less developed and therefore lend them an aspect less ferocious and bestial than that of the males.

Their slim chitin-clad forms were naked and of a more mellow hue than the harsh coloring of the males. And, whereas the male Yathoon were naked but for their war harness, the bodies of the females blazed with a thousand gems.

In a deep, soft nest of meadow grasses reposed the larva. Like naked, glistening grubs they were, and repulsive to the human eye. But in the grave and melancholy gaze of the silent males they were incredibly beautiful. For from these larva would hatch the children of the Yathoon, which represented the future of their race.

As did the females.

In the Valley beyond, perhaps twenty thousand Yathoon warriors were encamped, the entirety of the race.

And here, within this cushioned holy of holies, thirty-nine females dwelt in sumptuous and silken luxury.

And this was the secret which the Yathoon concealed from the world. Their race was dying.

They looked long upon the sight of those precious to them, then turned away and regained again the open air.

That day the Horde conducted its business. Laws were discussed, punishments bestowed, rewards given.

That night there was another feast.

The great hall of the citadel blazed with the light of two hundred torches. At long low tables, seated tailor-fashion upon cushions, tile lords and princes of the Horde feasted solemnly and conversed humorlessly.

Throughout the feast, and without seeming to do so, the Arkon stole many furtive glances at his rival, Koja.

Borak, seated upon Koja’s right, was also under the scrutiny of an old rival and enemy. For the Haroob Clan were, of course, in Sargol for the annual Games, and this was the Clan from whose chieftainship Borak had been ousted by the jealous Gorpak and his cunning henchman, Hooka.

Throughout the meal, Gorpak had glowered across the tables at the imperturbable Borak, muttering surly comments about “traitors” and “renegades” in harsh tones clearly meant to be overheard. It was only proper for Borak to ignore them.

But the Arkon Kamchan noticed this exchange and recognized Koja’s chieftain as the former lord of the Haroobs. The fact bore no obvious correlation to the present situation, but, wily and cunning as he was, the Arkon never let anything escape him and filed this tidbit of information away in his cold, Machiavellian brain.

You could never tell when a smoldering rivalry between two warriors would be fanned to a blaze which might consume a hated rival …

After the feast, the Arkon dismissed his chiefs but passed along word to Gorpak of the Haroobs to join him at moonset.

The two conversed for some time, circling around and around the central point, and parted near dawn in complete agreement.

With day, the Games began. Champions were selected from the five great tribal groupings to contest for the victory. And, although it was not customary for an akka-komor to compete against warriors of lesser rank or renown, Koja entered the lists as a common contestant.

Perhaps he felt that it was incumbent upon him to prove his prowess before the Kandars, that he might gain once again their loyalty and regard.

A famous champion, Koja competed throughout that day with the finest and most skillful warriors of the Five Clans, as often as not carrying off the victory. They fought with whip-swords, then with bows, followed by lassos, and finally with spears; afoot and mounted and in light chariots drawn by teams of matched thaptors, and the applause mounted with every victory that Koja won.