Three hours passed by, just as Tilly had predicted, before I saw Xiomara and her entourage approach. My mind still couldn’t fathom why a woman was chosen to lead the Akoni Clan. Were there not strong men capable of doing the job better? I’d seen many such men walking about, male warriors who appeared aggressive, strong and able to keep a clan in line. Xiomara’s tall frame, strong gate and proud form galled me still. No women should carry herself with this much dignity, authority or be leader over any clan.
As I watched Xiomara and her retinue approach, I felt something foreign, an emotion I’d heard about but never truly experienced – respect. My father expects it, Casimer demands it and all of Dwarkaa reeks with the falseness of it. There is no true reverence on my farrin. Any respect garnered is manipulated through threats and fear. Casimer’s entire Domain operates under the heaviness of it.
That Xiomara was able to accomplish what she’d already accomplished on Akoni Farrin astounded me. The wealth, wisdom and structure of the clan were beyond anything my mind could have imagined possible. The respect everyone gave her was real and not manipulated. The whole clan honestly revered her and this very fact so astonished me that it blazed within my soul as a guiding force.
My farrin, Dwarkaa, is the renowned land mass of wealth, privilege and opportunity. To be a Dwarkaa-born is the highest advantage and to be allowed the opportunity of serving Casimer involved the grandest luck. All praise to Casimer for having allowed me this benefit. To give Casimer the respect that he expects and demands still flows from my psyche.
As young children of Dwarkaa, we were trained thoroughly on protocol and expectations. Every wealthy family ensures their children are properly schooled to survive and excel on Dwarkaa Farrin.
I wish I’d been trained in how to handle the situation I found myself in. I had no reference point in dealing with the choice before me. This is something Dwarkaa never foresaw – a farrin violating protocol, the upheaval of rebellion and a Dwarkaa ship captain and his crew defeated.
The thing that confused me the most was the beauty, design and advancement of Akoni Farrin. Not even Dwarkaa was as beautiful, except for Casimer’s personal palace and the grand grounds he calls his. I wondered about Casimer’s great power and why he would not use it to better the lives of the populace on Dwarkaa Farrin? Was his power for him alone?
I was born into a high born family so it came with privilege but what of the low-born Dwarkaa Clan members? They are treated worse than slaves, worked savagely in Dwarkaa’s factories, mines and farms, most of them starving and many taken as prisoners or brutally killed to feed Casimer’s lust for blood.
I forced my mind to other things. I wondered how many more ships were seized by rebel farrins. Perhaps the ships lost at sea were nothing more than base farrin thievery. Anger filled my chest at the thought, just before Xiomara and her entourage reached me.
Xiomara stood before me, her hands clasped before her long leather coat. “I’ve given you plenty of time to consider your future. What will it be? Death or life?”
“Not so fast.”
Xiomara didn’t move a muscle, didn’t bat an eyelash. She simply stared at me in expectation, her body guards surrounding her. They were all big men and heavily armed. Never had I seen a woman so bordered and protected.
“Where is my ship and where are the rest of my men?”
“What men? You chose their fate,” Xiomara said.
“None of them survived?”
“We are not here to discuss the past. We are here to determine your future.”
“And what about my ship? Where is it?”
Xiomara allowed a small smile. “You are in no position to be spouting questions.”
I stood to my feet and stepped toward her. She was well outside of my chain allowance and didn’t flinch. Her body guards took a step toward me and held out their swords in warning.
Xiomara said, “My question is simple, life or death?”
I ground my teeth. “I demand to know about my men!”
“Are you telling me that you wish to join us and thus be included in our plans and inside intelligence? I see no need to inform you of anything if you are about to join your men in burial.”
She could read me well. She is smarter than I anticipated. “And what if I do join you? What do you want with me?”
“You are a Dwarkaa-born. You know Dwarkaa Farrin inside and out. As one of the privileged ones, you had access to every meeting house, tavern, warrior training center and even Casimer’s Palace Grounds. You would be vital to our plans on Dwarkaa.”
“Either choice means death for me.”
“But what a way to die, fighting against Casiner who has oppressed our whole world and every citizen under his rule.”
Her statement shocked me, rang true in the depth of my soul and shook me to the core.
Xiomara spoke again. “I know it’s a difficult truth to admit especially for one so dedicated to Casimer’s regime. He no longer rules here and has no jurisdiction on Akoni.”
Her statement was too much. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with. Casimer’s absence does not mean that he will not retaliate. If his oppression is too much for you, his brutal repayment of your rebellion will leave your entire clan tortured and dead and wishing you never would have started this stupid plan of yours. Once he learns the truth of Akoni, he will come with ships and warriors beyond number to desecrate your clan and snuff out all rebellion.”
“Not if we retaliate first.”
“Your plan is suicide.”
“Living under Casimer’s regime and demands is also a death wish. Which death would you rather embrace; one of subservience to that evil ruler or one of rebellion and Casimer’s possible demise?”
I’d never given thought to such an outlandish suggestion before. My mind reeled from the proposition. As I contemplated her words of revolt, I had to admit that Casimer deserved recompense for all the horror and brutality he dished out. That my mind was actually agreeing with her shocked me.
Casimer’s rule is ruthless and cruel for all, thankfully it has been less cruel for me and yet still I struggled with the world as I knew it. But to throw everything that was to my advantage away to the wind and accept the ludicrous ideas Xiomara suggested seemed reckless. I had to know more.
“What is your plan?”
“I’ve told you my plan.”
“I need some details. Before I agree to join you I have to know more than what you’ve revealed.”
Xiomara’s chin raised a degree higher. “Either you join us with the information I’ve given or you don’t join us at all.”
“How do you possibly believe you can win with the deficient clan numbers at your disposal?”
“We have things to our advantage that you know nothing about.”
“Like what?”
“It will require trust because you will not be told until you’re deprogrammed; your brain washing has been reversed and you’re ready to join our clan.”
I screamed at her, “I am not the one brain washed!”
“You just proved my point.”
The vicious growl that erupted from my throat surprised me.
“You are a very angry man, well trained by Dwarkaa to hate. You need some serious deprogramming.”
I glared at her, fury overwhelming me.
“So, if you choose life, join us, then you’re training will begin in the morning. You will be kept under strict guard, chained and tutors will come to you on a regular basis until you are free of Casimer’s influence.”
Rage inundated me and I couldn’t answer immediately.
Xiomara said, “Of course you will answer to me; I will be your new clan leader.”
The requirement was too much. “I will never answer to a woman!”
“Kill him.” Xiomara turned, walked away and her guards stepped toward me threateningly.
“Wait!” I yelled.
She slowly turned back. “You have some final departing words you’d like to utter before your death?”
Although the words felt like lambs wool caught in my throat, through clenched teeth I said, “All right, I will join your clan.”
Xiomara returned to stand before me. “You will answer to me as your new clan leader and my clan will not tolerate insubordination, especially not from one formerly dedicated to Casimer, a Dwarka-born. Do you understand?”
Although it took great effort, I finally said, “Yes, I understand.”
“Your training will begin in the morning.” Xiomara addressed her guards. “Take him to the structure we agreed upon and secure it.” She then turned abruptly and walked off.
The men took hold of me roughly, undid my chains from the post and led me to a shack on the outskirts of the settlement, near the path where I’d entered the valley earlier. Once I was securely chained to a similar iron post indoors, the guards left me. I knew one guard stayed because I heard him just outside the dwelling, whittling with a knife against wood. The sound was one from my childhood. My father used to whittle trinkets out of wood, small toys to amuse his son.
This memory brought me no joy. As I grew older, the items my father would create were used in my training and torture, a way to indenture my respect for the man. The familiar hate and bitterness welled up within me at the sounds outside my door. I wondered if that’s what Xiomara meant when she spoke of my training – torture to ensure I came to respect my new leader.
The next few days nullified my fears. The training was a lot of talk and little action. A seasoned woman tutored me on Akoni Clan Protocol, the structure of command and a list of reforms that had taken place. A young teen came the next day to explain their warrior strategy of effective victory in battle. He seemed too young to be so knowledgeable. The third day I was taught, by a young woman, on the legend of Xiomara. The astounding tale took all day and my respect for the clan leader grew.
I asked the woman for my journal to be brought to me from my ship and for writing utensils. She nodded and promised to send a fellow warrior for the items. An Akoni Warrior, a man in his early twenties, knocked at my door late at night with the gift.
I began to write, documenting everything that happened to me, to my men and my ship. Guilt enveloped me when I wrote about the Apolake Warriors under my command. I was responsible for their untimely death.
Thinking of my uncertain future instigated anxiety but the understanding that Casimer didn’t have jurisdiction over me while on Akoni Farrin actually brought a degree of liberation. The terror of Dwarkaa was suddenly removed and the relief I felt was stunning. I never realized before the magnitude of the dark cloud that hung over me in service to Casimer and Dwarkaa Farrin. His grievous demands and ruthless rule were usually constantly in my thoughts. Now that the guillotine of displeasing Casimer was removed, I suddenly felt free. The sensation was untried and unique and left a sense of euphoria.
Although part of me enjoyed the unusual impression of liberty, thoughts of Casimer’s retaliation also warred with my mind. The old terror frequently returned when I contemplated what Casimer would do to me should he ever catch me. The methods of torture he would use to humble and shame me caused me to convulse uncontrollably. After a ruthless torture, he had myriad death techniques set aside for traitors and cowards, all of them brutally awful.
I used all my self-control to force the thoughts from my mind. Focusing on Casimer’s wrath would render me useless and maybe even bring on the whacks. I couldn’t afford to lose my mind at this juncture of my life. Since I’d pledged allegiance to Akoni Farrin I needed all the brain power I could muster to endure their training. The deprogramming was more draining than warrior training on Dwarkaa or the torturous training methods my father used. Each day, as my training was done, I was left with a pounding headache.
The choice I made still often haunted me. I didn’t know whether my decision would prove to be a boon or a curse. If only I knew what exactly the Akoni Clan was planning, then perhaps I could prepare my mind and soul. Never had I felt so powerless and out of control.
All I knew at the moment was that Xiomara, a woman, was now my clan leader. Often, as I wrote, nausea would overwhelm me. My father would disown me, kill me himself, if he knew what I’d done, agreeing to join with Akoni Clan, allowing a woman to lord it over me. Although it was difficult to accept the reality that I’d aligned myself to such a base farrin, the more I learned of Akoni the greater respect I gained for it.
What if Xiomara was right? What if it was possible for the Akoni Clan to defeat Casimer and take over the rule of our world and stop the ruthlessness of his domain? I felt something odd stir inside. The feeling reminded me of something my mother once told me as she tucked me in at night. She spoke of strange things at times. Most of those memories have grown dim. I did remember that certain conversation. She spoke of the word ‘hope’ and tried to explain it to me – to look forward with desire of something good happening. Casimer is ruthless and known for snuffing out all hope.
I think that’s what I began to feel – hope. During my re-training I started to believe that perhaps there was a chance of something better, for reform and change. Akoni Clan had instituted many changes on their land mass and all for the better of the populace. The more I learned about Tarmon Farrin and Mowae’s ways, my view of the future began to shift. A small flickering light began to dance within my soul. Considering the possibility that Xiomara’s ideas held some merit began to gain strength in my thoughts. If she was right, then I was exactly where I needed to be. If she was wrong, then we would all die. Either way, I made my choice and what will be, will be.
The End
The Ongoing Tale of DWARKAA’S DOMAIN Continues in:
