Checkmate

Attack

I crouched low in the branches of the tree, my eyes on a stretch of the Lichorian border, and particularly the small stream that ran through it. 

It had been several months since Lichor had sealed its borders. There'd been nothing, no word, no information, no communication in all these months, the Clan had just closed itself off to the rest of the world. 

The news had spread across the Clanlands like wildfire and the other Clans were in a state of high alert, the tension higher than it had ever been in my lifetime. It had been centuries since the Clans had been this close to a Clan War. They were working hard to prevent it, of-course, to calm the more reactive and combative Clans, trying for alternative options first. But I knew, as did others, that it was a matter of time. 

For the past few years, there'd been worrying rumbles about the direction Lichor had been taking, indicating a gradual swing towards a more authoritarian, almost cult-like rule. We'd confirmed this once Jax had gone in. But Jax had picked up something more disturbing. Snatches of conversation he'd overheard, some incidents and occurrences that he'd manage to verify, and none of it was good. There'd been a number of disappearances in the Clan, dating back years, there'd been mention of purification, of restoring Clan glory and domination - and there'd been mention of blood sacrifices. 

Blood sacrifices meant one thing.

Lichor had become a Dark Clan.

And if that were the case, war was inevitable.

In Clan history, only two Clans had ever become Dark. Both times, they'd wreaked havoc and blood across the Clanlands, one of them even successfully taking over two other Clans, and both times there'd been no other option except war. 

But we had to be sure. 

And that was what Jax had been doing - gathering evidence, solid and incontrovertible, that Lichor had turned Dark. That would be enough to take to the other Clans - and enough to then take action. 

Yet now the border had closed.

With Jax inside.

I was sure he'd have gone into hiding, we had contingencies for this sort of thing, he'd have taken his precautions. But if they discovered him, discovered he was OutClan, that was it. And every day that passed, the danger to him grew. 

One of the few things the Clan leadership and I agreed on at the moment. They weren't very happy with me. Which wasn't a big surprise frankly. 

Once I'd regained consciousness, thanks to Diora's ministrations, I'd waited just long enough for her to remove the crossbow bolt in my thigh, bandage my leg and give me something for the pain before heading straight back to my Clan, as fast as the horse I'd borrowed from the tribesfolk could take me. 

My arrival and the condition I'd been in had caused no small stir, the Border Guard had taken one look at me and had sent the messengers to Clanholme. Clan Leader and the rest had arrived within a few hours - and then I'd had the grilling of my life. To say they'd been furious about my little forays into Lichor was the understatement of the year. 

"Let me get this straight." Leda fixed her dark eyes on me, her voice hard. "You were in Lichor. Not at the border, but well inside. A stone's throw from Ochor."

"Yes, my Lord." There was no point in denying it, not now.

"You were inside Lichor." She emphasised. "Despite having explicit orders."

"Yes, my Lord."

"You must have a hearing problem, Lio." She said flatly, her eyes glinting dangerously. "Because you can't have deliberately disobeyed a direct order from your Clan Leader. Right?"