Chapter 51-Wings Shielding the Light
-XLI-
"Wings Shielding the Light"
Katlamat, December 846 [1189]
"Wings Shielding the Light"
Katlamat, December 846 [1189]
Peqw'ali's nerves pounded at the scene before him in the fragment smoke and haze of his palace. Four emissaries from Wayam ornamented in identical uniforms of thick grey robes ornamented with feathers and copper chains of office stood at the door of his audience hall. The once warm light of the whale oil lamps of his hall suddenly seemed pale, cold, and ominous. The burning sweetflag suddenly lost all its scents but triteness. Soon the most powerful man in the world would appear before him.
Is this what my grandfather Pelpelikwoli felt when that emissary Plaashyaka arrived here over forty years ago? The world changed so much since those times. Katlamat and those Kigwilatksh who followed her seemed much more powerful then when the Coastmen threatened annihilation yet her enemies grew stronger as well. The city grew larger every year and order felt strained. And that powerful city of Wayam grew more powerful than he thought possible and ruled distant lands he held only the faintest conception of. No, the Wayam of his day seemed ruled by humans. At that time they merely boasted to rule the four corners of the world and now they truly do rule this world.
He looked toward his bodyguard, a young noble named Quinemliqamu, tall, muscular, and as always on edge, holding a hand beneath his thick goat-and-dog wool cloak. He knew the man had a strong guardian spirit and made sure he found service here, and his instincts seemed sharp as always. He is a fitting man to inherit the name of Quinemliqamu, the man who saved the lives of both my father and myself.
Suddenly Quinemliqamu stepped forward and approached the four Wayamese emissaries.
"Do tell, which grand dignitary of Wayam might we receive the pleasure of meeting in our humble palace?" he spoke in the Imaru Trade Language. The four men stood silent and suddenly stepped aside.
A solitary, tall man in a cedar bark cloak stepped out from between them, wearing a modestly decorated conical hat as a lesser Aipakhpam noble typical wore. He appeared like a typical shaman or man seeking guardian spirit power yet Peqw'ali immediately sensed this was no ordinary man or shaman. Although wrinkles gripped his face and handsomely bronzed skin, his dark eyes and confident posture radiated an agelessness unlike any Peqw'ali had ever seen. The man peered at Peqw'ali, Quinemliqamu, and the other guards in the room, and one glance at his deep brown eyes sent shivers down Peqw'ali's spine. It is power as that from the Time of the Transformer. Why is such terrible power appearing in this era, let alone my palace?
A second man walked into the room, dressed far more lavishly in thick black woolen robes woven with gold and silver threads outlining both solar symbolism and crows. If the first man radiated terrifying energy, this man seemed more typical of a powerful leader, his gaze hungry for power and prestige and confident he would soon have it.
"I, the humble King of the West," the man greeted in accented Gitlawalamt Namal [1], "Introduce unto the son of the Prince of Katlamat our master the Pillar King of Wayam Tsanahuutimna, successor of Q'mitlwaakutl. This meeting will be of service to all of us." The men in the room looked at each other with awe and fear, knowing the most powerful man in the world stood before them. Even the West King alone, whom Peqw'ali recognised as the one they called Ahawaptas, would be terrifying to have personally visit him. Why are both of them here?
"It's a show of force," Quinemliqamu whispered. "They are so confident in their spiritual power they act not as mortals but as gods. They wish to intimidate you."
Peqw'ali's chancellor reciprocated the greeting toward both Tsanahuutimna and the West King, yet in that entire time Peqw'ali could do nothing but keep himself from showing too much fear and unease.
"I believe you are the regent here for your father in his illness," Tsanahuutimna spoke, his words an icy sweetness that pierced through even his heavy accent typical of the Gitlawalamt cities.
"H-how do you know this?" Peqw'ali stuttered. It wasn't common knowledge after all.
"Merchants speak amongst each other about many things," Tsanahuutimna replied. "Such a concern spreads quickly and it is only natural those as far as Wayam have heard about it." Peqw'ali grit his teeth. Were the merchants spies? Or did Tsanahuutimna's guardian spirit let him discern this knowledge somehow? Men with such guardian spirit power were unnatural, perhaps this Pillar King even struck his father with his illness.
And perhaps he might take Father's illness away if I submit, Peqw'ali thought. Certainly the Pillar King must be a powerful healer.
As the thoughts swirled in his head, he suddenly heard a rushing from the curtains behind him and turned his head rapidly. Four men dressed in white carried out his elderly father on a litter [2], the man barely moving from age and infirmity. Wrinkles covered his face and hands and his eyes were a milky white. This must have woken Father. Or perhaps this man woke Father's spirit.
"Son, tell this great man before us who I am," he wheezed. The four attendants carefully carried Qwalis over to the vacant cedar throne, placing him in the seat. His weakness caused him to slump over against a blanket and cushions, yet despite this frailness he seemed acutely aware to what was going on before him.
"Y--yes," Peqw'ali said, standing up. "Before me is seated the great Prince of Katlamat, my honoured father Qwalis son of Pelpelikwali. And standing before you is the great Pillar King of Wayam. May this meeting be of use to us all."
"Please bring these men tobacco for their pipes," Qwalis motioned to one of his attendants.
"I am honoured to be in your presence," Qwalis spoke. "And I apologise for the rudeness of my regent and his aides for not supplying you with what you need."
"There is no need for concern," Tsanahuutimna said. "None have the experience a lifetime brings a man. I do hope you understand why I am here."
"I regretfully do not. I am amazed to see Wayam send their ruler and his foremost general, the King of the West, to this humble palace. So many years ago your grandfather, blessed he was in life, sent only a mere diplomat, even if that mere diplomat later proved himself as a brilliant administrator and philosopher."
Tsanahuutimna grinned. "Ah, that great man, he of pure white claws and teeth [3]. It is the greatest shame he has passed into the sunset, down the great Imaru River and into eternity." He glanced at Ahawaptas, seemingly prompting him.
"We come here because we acknowledge the Prince of Katlamat as an old friend of Wayam," Ahawaptas said. "As the ruler of the most ancient city of Namals and master of the Imaru River, the Pillar King wishes to lavish upon you many gifts acknowledging your status and relation to him," he suddenly paused, perhaps realising how direct he sounded with his potlatch invitation, "should you accept his generous offer that is."
Peqw'ali's brow twitched, and he glared at his father, his eyes and facial expression clear in telling him to reject this demand for submission. Yet his father seemed intrigued and stared calmly at the two powerful men before them.
"Katlamat's prestige as the spiritual mouth of the Imaru River shall be enhanced and spread through the entire world," Tsanahuutimna said. "I will ensure the city is well-known at the source of the Imaru, so far away from here, and from that distant source I will bring back the treasures of their people to Katlamat. So important is your city that both myself and the King of the West wished to visit your city in person and speak to you." Peqw'ali found himself both impressed and almost terrified with the Pilar King's boldness. He must not fear assassins sent against himself or his allies because he is nigh-immortal.
That interested Peqw'ali. The source of the Imaru? It remained a place spoken of only in legend, yet some well-traveled men claimed to have visited it and all told similar stories. There they found a city called Kuhtsutsinahn that seemed to float on a lake in a great valley, and claimed that every morning the rulers of the city poured out the waters themselves using only the most pure water collected from the snows of holy sites on nearby peaks. The shrine there attracted pilgrims from all over, pilgrims belonging to the popular cult which venerated the Imaru River as a master of spirits. He wondered if those men spoke of Katlamat in the same way their city was spoken of here.
"And there is one other great gift you shall receive," Tsanahuutimna added. "You will have power, the power to protect your people from the ravages of barbarism. No longer will your people be tormented by the Hillmen and whatever evils the Hillmen cause you shall be avenged in full. The avarice of the Hillmen has damaged your city over the many centuries, yet it will cease should you accept my offer. What's more, the Coastmen of Tlat'sap shall be at your mercy and the mouth of the Imaru shall belong to your clan." He tempts me so, yet I must not give into this bribery.
"You fascinate me, Pillar King of Wayam," Qwalis murmured. "Our interests and Wayam's interests align." He looked toward his son. "Will you not support the Wayamese cause for me? They seem truly blessed and spiritually destined. All men here should support their cause." I have lost this argument. Peqw'ali grit his teeth at his father's decision.
"Father, are you sure we must do this now?" Peqw'ali asked. He knew he was outmanuevered by his father and the two Wayamese rulers before him and sought any way to press his case without offending his soon-to-be master.
"I will not live forever," Qwalis said. "And I want to see the mouth of the Imaru in this lifetime before my spirit leaves me. Oh Wayamese Pillar King, I accept your offer on the condition that you make it your priority to scourge the land of the Coastmen and give their property toward the people of Katlamat whom they stole it from many years prior."
"It will be done," Tsanahuutimna said with a smile. "I am glad you share my wish that the light and harmony of civilisation is brought to every corner of this earth and that the coasts of the great ocean are made safe from the Hillmen. We shall soon welcome you to our fold and together make each other stronger in wealth and spirit alike."
---
Near Tlat'sap, March 847 [1190]
Near Tlat'sap, March 847 [1190]
Tsanahuutimna's heart pounded, his breath fast. Few days had felt more exhausting than this one, proof he was no longer a young man who could throw himself into any battle. His bloodstained dagger-axe felt heavy in his hand, and the sun shining threw after the drizzle seemed to only make the sweat drip harder from his brow.
"Are you okay, my lord?" a page asked, his body and armour covered in mud.
"I merely need rest," Tsanahuutimna answered. "Find my shaman, have him bring me herbs for sleep." He continued walking, examining the mud covered battlefield where a barbarian village once stood on a hillside overlooking the vast mouth of the Imaru River. The killing and pillaging ended hours ago (although no doubt it would resume tomorrow with these bloodthirsty allies of his) and now the revelry began as his soldiers consumed their stolen alcohol and celebrated surviving another day. The enemy's soldiers lacked such luck, as the amount of mangled corpses strewn throughout the area clearly showed. Funerary shamans and captured enemy slaves were gradually working to remove them from the battlefield and purge their negative spiritual influences, yet worked seemed slow. Perhaps they are angry at me for starting yet another war.
Inside his tent, exhaustion gripped Tsanahuutimna quickly and he drifted off to sleep. When he awoke, he was standing on a mountain overlooking a narrow valley where a lake sat. Tall trees surrounded him and seemed to grow higher than the sky. The lake seemed familiar to him, a source of great spiritual power. Is this the source of the Imaru River?
As he wandered forward down the mountain to discover more, a bright sun shone through the trees and scorched him and burned up his lungs, his stomach, and all his insides yet he felt no heat on his skin. As the pain intensified, Tsanahuutimna closed his eyes and said a prayer that he might survive.
Suddenly a shadow fell across the sun and the pain instantly ceased. Tsanahuutimna tried to look up at this sudden savior yet his neck fell heavy and he could not lift it. Yet in his heart he knew exactly what it was. My guardian spirit power. It reminded him almost of his time as a boy spent meditating in the forest, running around and swimming by himself in the high mountains near Wayam where he knew he saw a vision of a great bird unlike any other he ever saw before or since carrying the heart of some animal in its talons. There the spirit bestowed upon him the name "Tsanahuutimna" and permitted him to use this spirit name in any context he pleased as long as he proved worthy of it [4].
Yet the shadow grew larger and soon Tsanahuutimna could barely see the lake before him. His skin felt an intense chill from the lack of the sun. Tsanahuutimna prayed to his guardian spirit that it might find balance and cease blocking the sun yet the cold only grew more intense. As he shivered, he heard a cackle that somehow chilled him even more, a cackle that sounded not quite animal but not quite human.
"You are cold, are you not?" A voice said. Coyote must be speaking to me, Tsanahuutimna thought. "Do you wish to be warm again?" Of course I do. Coyote cackled again and the light returned, albeit weaker than before, yet Tsanahuutimna suddenly felt extremely weary.
"What is the meaning of all this?" Tsanahuutimna asked.
"I am sure you know if you think clearly on it." Tsanahuutimna thought for a moment and the meaning flashed in his head. The condor blocking the sun must be his guardian spirit while the sun itself was civilisation. Was he blocking civilisation with his actions? The stress he felt on his body must be the stress of balancing all of this. Even if if he wanted the stress to end, only greater harm would come of it.
"Perhaps you are. I granted your grandfather the glory of Wayam and not the rule of the world. As your father told you, I permitted your clan the continued fulfillment of this promise." Tsanahuutimna suddenly remembered a few occasions where his father spoke religious matters to him and the importance of Coyote's prophecy. "He must also have told you the condition I placed on it."
"Endless strife," Tsanahuutimna muttered.
"You know much about endless strife I am sure," Coyote said.
"I suppose there is no other way around it," Tsanahuutimna said. "It must all be done for the sake of Wayam. Although I may suffer for it, I will ensure balance by glorifying Wayam and not eclipsing the light of civilisation itself."
"I hope you will," Coyote said. "And I hope all who come after you will as well." Coyote laughed. "As long as Wayam seeks glory, the fighting will never stop and the King Atop the Pillar will know no peace." His cackle echoed throughout the mountainside as darkness swallowed Tsanahuutimna's vision.
Tsanahuutimna jolted awake in a dark tent, the rain pouring down outside. The dream seemed so vivid in his head that it must have been a vision sent from Coyote. What did it all mean, he wondered to himself. That I eclipse the sun of civilisation? Perhaps he did, for so many men died in these wars it could not have been doing anything good. Yet it all felt necessary--should he not do this, someone else would. The sun of civilisation would burn up everything lest it be balanced by something shading it.
Or perhaps the sun represents my grandfather. Q'mitlwaakutl only gained power when he saw that vision of a great sun at the place later called Q'inutash nearly a century ago. Was he doing the same to his legacy? Tsanahuutimna worried about what Coyote meant by those who might come after him. A few sons of Witkw'aawi seemed promising, especially Aanwaakutl who led soldiers admirably and spoke with such a silver tongue. As the law held, one of these princes would succeed him. Yet who would succeed that prince? Too many of his own sons perished in battle or accidents and of those who survived and their own sons he could not decide. Perhaps one of the younger ones may yet develop themselves into a great leader.
It was all too much for Tsanahuutimna to take in. Resolving to speak to a shaman on the matter, he lay back down on his mat of reeds and decided to go back to sleep so he might be fully rested to prepare himself for these concerns.
---
Southern Irame Valley, 850 [1193]
Southern Irame Valley, 850 [1193]
The screams still haunted Lelisho, the sounds of that doomed battle, the sounds of the people who relied on him for protection being seized and butchered like animals by the invaders. He felt the pain of that city he grew up in set ablaze by flames that reeked of evil. Yet even so Lelisho refused to give in, lest he dishonor their memory, and that party of Wayamese soldiers approaching would soon learn his vehemence. As those soldiers passed an old atudship [5] overgrown with oaks, Lelisho prepared yet another strike of his vegeance.
He signalled to the men around him to notch their arrows and raise their javelins, saying a silent prayer that he would not be misguided in attacking at this moment. Around twenty Wayamese soldiers, probably skirmishers or scouts judging by their lack of copper armour, wandered around searching for food, animals, or most likely additional plunder. These men burnt a nearby village a night before and no doubt wanted to find the survivors.
Lelisho sweeped his hand and dozens of arrows flew forth. The Wayamese soldiers shouted and attempted to take cover to little avail as Lelisho's skirmishers rushed forward and flung their javelins, felling even more or them. Lelisho then shouted a war cry and raised his dagger, walking behind the younger warriors rushing forth.
Not a single enemy escaped this ambush, and his superiority in numbers ensured no casualties to his own men besides a few scratches and bruises. A few men he kept in reserve walked forward to join with the rest, including a shaman who began to pray the ritual in purifying the area and disposing of the corpses. Lelisho's men searched the bodies of the dead, attempting to find stolen plunder, but it seemed these Wayamese were keeping it elsewhere.
A few Wayamese groaned in agony, pierced by poisoned arrows and spears, but Lelisho's men quickly put them out of their misery with quick thrusts of their spears. One man Lelisho noticed seemed more adorned, with copper bracelets and bright feathers on his fallen copper helm. He seemed alive, and Lelisho grabbed the man to interrogate him.
"How many more soldiers are there?" He growled. The man's eyes were wide with fear and shock and he babbled something meaningless, perhaps trying to speak in his own language. Yet he soon passed out, and Lelisho threw him to the ground.
"Do you think we'll have enough men to drive them out of the village?" a subordinate asked, and Lelisho shrugged.
"Possibly. The men of Wayam divide their men in a predictable fashion and twenty are now dead. There will not be more than eighty in that village. Unless they have a smart leader, they will send out another party tomorrow and meet the same fate."
Lelisho walked back into the grove, flanked by a few men and sat on an old log. A cool breeze through the trees chilled him and he noticed clouds covering the sky. Soon it would be autumn once more in the Irame Valley. Yet in his heart winter already arrived, the winter of his own life and the winter of the Irame Valley for the Wayamese destroyed everything he and his people knew.
Tell me, oh great father-in-law Imolakte, did I make the right choice? He looked at the sun, feeling the rays of the god Ayutlmeyi invigorating his own spirit. Perhaps he should've died at the palace in Chantatawa that night. The Wayamese killed and destroyed everything in that moment and leveled the entire town. He remembered a captured Wayamese boasting of the foul deeds he committed then and worst of all, the reason why they all died.
"I thank you so much, old man Lelisho," the man sneered in his memory, that wicked face engraved forever. "Since you did not submit to the Pillar King, the Pillar King needed to make an example of your city and your people, and thanks to that my clan shall be wealthy even if you kill me here!" The man laughed and laughed in frenzy until Lelisho slit his throat.
Lelisho killed that man over two years ago yet those moments remained so fresh in his memory. In those two years he fought and fought with his loyal warriors yet they dwindled away over time. Two or three fierce battles the previous year killed many of them and drove off the survivors. Had the Amim cities stayed loyal to him, perhaps he'd have more men yet Chifin and Tk'ubih, and other southerly cities defected toward the Wayamese while the Wayamese sacked and destroyed Milpu [6]. Traitors even opened the gates of Chateshtan to the Wayamese, and worse, a grandson of Imolakte now also collaborated with them despite the heroic sacrifice of many of Imolakte's kin.
"It is all over now, Prince of Chantatawa," the nobles and princes of the cities told him and his envoys, their pockets full of Wayamese gold and silver. "Fate decreed your era passed. Your cause is worthy yet doomed for failure and will surely cause many good men to die."
Even some of his descendents abandoned him. The villages they ruled capitulated bowed before the Wayamese authorities. Perhaps they knew the choice was death either way--Wayam might kill them later, or they would die fighting alongside him. They fought well in the battles against Wayam so he did not blame them for their surrender.
He thought of the people buried in this atudship, raised by a town centuries ago which long lay abandoned. Perhaps the village the Wayamese occupied now held their descendents. Perhaps they would think highly of him for defending the land they called home, or perhaps they too would call him a fool and would join the Wayamese if they could. They stopped building the atudships when I was young. Only the eldest held onto the custom when he was young, but even Imolakte had to remind people of the futility of building atudships.
"You must never bury myself or my heirs in an atudship," Imolakte once said to an extremely old man at a potlatch many years ago. "I do not want my people to work so hard to build merely an imitation of a mountain. There are many better ways a man's spirit might be honored in death."
"Did I make the right choice?" Lelisho asked one of his guards as he snapped out of his reminiscence. "Is it right for me to spread conflict and death across this valley?"
The young warrior beside him named Wanhaluqu shrugged. He seemed truly devoted to the Amim cause and followed him around like a dog since he arrived at Lelisho's camp covered in wounds and half-starved and missing an eye from the great disaster at Chakeipi [7]. Victory seemed imminent that day, yet we became greedy in chasing the Wayamese and merely fell into their trap, the trap where thousands perished.
"The great man with the iron helm [8] inspired me when I was a boy," he said. "My father and brothers never came back from the wars against the Wayamese yet I wanted to fight Wayam not to avenge them, but to finish what they started in protecting this land. It is wonderful that thanks to you, Elder, I can still fulfill that urge to protect this land even though I was defeated with the rest of them at Chakeipi."
"You are doing fantastic work," Lelisho replied. "I cannot stop this battle that I started for I have battled the Wayamese and the Hillmen for nearly forty years. Yet perhaps others still have time to stop the fight so this land does not fall into disharmony."
Although he wanted to lay down for a nap, he stood up, calling his men to attention.
"We shall camp here for tonight and prepare for another ambush tomorrow. Should the Wayamese not send another scouting party, we will attack their men in the nearby village. The war parties of our allies will assist us." He thought of those fellow Amim leaders wandering the forests and hills at the edge of the valley. They trusted him until the end and chose to fulfill their urge to protect the land, however foolish it may be. And because they trust me, I shall trust them back. I will continue to fight no matter the result.
---
In 1189, the Wayamese advanced toward the mouth of the Imaru River in a military expedition combined with diplomatic overtures. The West King Ahawaptas alongside the Pillar King Tsanahuutimna raised thousands of soldiers and set out to subjugate the remaining Namal cities. Few cities resisted--with the Wayamese already dominating the region and with their trade-centered economies, the Namals submitted with minimal violence. The most notable incident in this affair is described by Gaiyuchul, Nch'iyaka, and several other historians and notes a very rare personal visit by the Pillar King to Katlamat to convince the rulers of the city-state and its confederation, Qwalis and his regent Peqw'ali, to submit to Wayam.
The entire affair was not without violence however. While Ahawaptas was sent away to prepare for the invasion of the Irame Valley, Tsanahuutimna and his newfound allies in Katlamat embarked on winter raids against the nearby Coastmen center of Chichk'aaktis. As usual, the prince of Chichk'aaktis called for aid from his fellow Coastmen yet even with 5,000 warriors found himself gravely outnumbered by Tsanahuutimna and Peqw'ali's 10,000 men. At the battle of Nimaspikh [9], outside the city walls of Chichk'aaktis, the Wayamese destroyed the Coastmen and captured the city after a brief siege.
After centuries of struggle, Katlamat finally gained the upper hand over its arch-rival Chichk'aaktis, once called Tlat'sap. The warriors of Katlamat gleefully massacred the entire population of the city in vengeance for the centuries of bloodshed and a council of soldiers elected Qwalis as the ruler of the city (or what remained of it). The majority of Wakashans living in the area fled, although most local Khaida remained. For those Coastmen who remained, their property was seized and they served as slaves and serfs of their new masters.
The fall of Chichk'aaktis sparked lesser Wayamese campaigns in the area led by various lieutenants of Tsanahuutimna and Ahawaptas in association with newly-conquered Namals. Two of these men, Stlich'qid the Younger and his cousin Khwehqw'ekhwachi (both grandsons of the general Stlich'qid) enforced the Wayamese submission of the Shlpalmish cities of the Kashiwamichi including the wealthy mining city of Awelkintl. With the Namal cities their main economic lifeline, they surrendered rather than fight.
In March 1190, Ahawaptas once again invaded the Irame Valley from his base at Tlawiwala, proceeding directly toward Chateshtan with his army of 6,000 men and fleet of several dozen tukhunawitsat war galleys. Unlike his previous invasion, Amim mercenaries proved willing to fight for him and helped navigate the warships up the Irame River. These war galleys and associated transport ships proved invaluable to carrying men and supplies to the Wayamese in their rapid advance as well as aiding ambushes on shore.
The Amims united under Lelisho of Chantatawa and his brothers-in-law, the sons of Imolakte, yet cracks existed in this alliance before the fighting even began. He proved less persuasive than his father-in-law. Some Amim cities near the Grey Mountains like Chawilfmefu and especially Changondwefti held increasingly close relations with Wayam or simply disliked Lelisho and refused the call to arms. Further, the battle plan was confused--some sought to defend near Chateshtan, others wanted a defense elsewhere closer to their own cities.
Despite these problems, Gaiyuchul states Lelisho mustered 10,600 Amim warriors toward his cause including many veterans of Imolakte's campaigns. From Milpu in the south to Chachif in the north, Amim nobles and peasants alike joined the fight against the Wayamese. Thousands of others stayed behind to guard the many fortified villages and walled cities in the Irame Valley.
Tsanahuutimna aimed for total defeat of Amim resistance. Another 2,000 men invaded the Irame Valley in the south near Changondwefti and Tk'ubikh while Tsanahuutimna himself crossed over the Anbarachi Mountains west of Katlaqmap in April with around 8,000 men (including many of his most elite soldiers) after he finished his conquest of the mouth of the Imaru. This latter invasion attracted the attention of the Lelisho, for he knew defeating the Wayamese Emperor would end the invasion. Although some of his followers disagreed, he hurried north toward the Anbarachi River to meet the Wayamese.
The town of Chakeipi ended up the main battlefield as the prince of that city made a concerted defense and repelled Tsanahuutimna's besiegers several times enough to allow Lelisho's relief force to arrive. After initial skirmishes near the city, Tsanahuutimna pulled back his men in a feigned retreat and moved toward a carefully scouted area of marshy ground at the foot of a hill where his reserves lay in wait. The overconfident pursuit of Lelisho's men ended in disaster as Tsanahuutimna ambushed and destroyed them.
Lelisho managed to save some of his men and retreated to Chakeipi for a siege yet with morale and frenzy high among the Wayamese they successfully stormed the city. Seeing little hope at this point and needing to deal with the remaining Wayamese, Lelisho retreated with perhaps 2,000 survivors by cutting his way through the siege lines.
The Battle of Chakeipi crushed the hopes of the Amims that the Wayamese might be repelled. Nobles and city-states began defecting to Wayam and morale remained low among the remaining Amims. Chateshtan fell to Ahawaptas's forces after a grandson of Imolakte betrayed the city to Wayam--many sons of Imolakte perished in the fierce fight for the city. The only bright spot came in June when Lelisho's forces ambushed a Wayamese camp and slew several prominent nobles including the eldest son of Ahawaptas. In August, Lelisho defeated the smaller Wayamese army in the south near his capital of Chantatawa. This raised morale enough to convince many Amim princes to hold out another winter in various grueling sieges throughout the Irame Valley.
This resistance collapsed in spring when Tsanahuutimna returned and attacked the central and southern Irame Valley. Cities fell in quick succession with the most concerted resistance given at Chantatawa itself. Despite being urged to surrender, Lelisho's men resisted until the end with only a small group (including Lelisho himself) fleeing to the hills to organise a guerilla resistance. While this had some initial success, in 1192 and 1193 the Wayamese crushed several large forces of these rebels and burnt many of their villages. Lelisho died in 1193, allegedly of wounds suffered in battle, effectively ending the conflict.
Gaiyuchul claims that the Irame Valley traced its traditional five-fold division into the local authorities Tsanahuutimna set up. Based on later Fusanian adminstrative divisions and those who continued on Lelisho's resistance, the areas of the Valley south of Chamikiti never fell under direct Wayamese rule, with the possible exception of a few allied cities near the Grey Mountains such as Chawilfmefu or Changondwefti. However, Wayamese authorities were particularly persuasive in coaxing the support of local rulers for many decades and the area became a highly profitable region for the Wayamese.
These campaigns against Lelisho were left to local authorities, for in 1192 and 1193 Tsanahuutimna spent the years campaigning in the Kanawachi Valley further south on the Black Road. The local states in this area, the four Ach'gampdu city-states of Changantqabit, Chapalmanchal, Changamafa, and Yankalat, formed a tight-knit confederation since around 1160. Gaiyuchul claims Tsanahuutimna came into conflict with the Ach'gampdu based on the revolt of Milpu in 1192 over the Wayamese destruction of their allied Dena and Hill Tanne tribes. Although Milpu's revolt was easily crushed and the city sacked, nobles fled south toward Ach'gampdu lands and sparked a war.
Unlike the conflict-ridden areas toward the north, the Ach'gampdu lacked as many veteran warriors. They lacked as many warriors in total thanks to their lower population. Regardless, they and their Hill Tanne allies proved to be tenacious fighters and knew the land well, ambushing scouting and raiding parties of the Wayamese. Yankalat fell after a siege in late 1192 but the other cities held out for another year. In late 1193, the Valley Tanne city-state of Hleadni opportunistically submitted to the Wayamese and assisted Wayam in subduing the remainder of the Ach'gampdu states. In 1194, Wayam and Hleadni subdued the Valley Tanne state of Kasikaitan and crossed to the coast, destroying many Hill Tanne villages and sacking the Coastman state of Ch'aninit.
Tsanahuutimna's desires of course never lay in the south, and he left the campaign there to his lieutenants and new ally of Hleadni and returned to the Plateau in 1193. Aware of his increasing frailty as he grew older, Tsanahuutimna resolved once more to conquer the source of the Imaru before he died. He increasingly patronised cults worshipping the spirits of the Imaru River and promoted this belief to attract nobles and their retinues to his banner. In 1194, he assembled a grand army at T'kuytaum consisting of numerous peoples from across the Wayamese Empire, united as both pilgrims to the source of the Imaru and warriors in the service of the Pillar King. The aim was obvious--march to the source of the Imaru and force it's submission toward Wayam.
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Author's notes
Author's notes
This is a few vignettes regarding this moment in Fusanian history along with a description showing other events around this time, mostly centered around the conquest of the Irame Valley and mouth of the Imaru. Faced with overwhelming numbers and the organisational capacity of the Wayamese state, there is not much that can resist them. Many princes simply surrender and pledge allegiance, accepting Wayamese bureaucrats into their cities and villages to avoid the certainty of defeat. It builds a geographically large empire but gaining much from many of these territories would be challenging (on the other hand, vassal princes certainly don't mind the protection Wayam brings). There will be more on that in a later update.
The next chapter will feature more of the Plateau as well as the bronze working Yilhqanin Dena and the one after that (the last Tsanahuutimna chapter unless I need to split it) will also have the Whulchomic peoples and Wakashans once again.
[1] - Namal languages are a dialect continuum as their OTL equivalent Chinookan is
[2] - See Chapter 34. This is the same Qwalis, son of Pelpelikwoli.
[3] - Plaashyaka has been dead for only a few years, so Tsanahuutimna refers to his name's literal meaning "white bear" out of respect for him
[4] - Like OTL and as I've mentioned, having multiple names is extremely common and Tsanahuutimna would have several other names. In this case, Tsanahuutimna is a name associated with his guardian spirit and as mentioned means "condor heart". In the future it may be passed to his descendents as names they've succeeded toward.
[5] - An atudship is the Amim term for a funerary mound where their dead are interred. In this era however, they have fallen out of fashion.
[6] - Milpu is Cottage Grove, OR, Chifin is Eugene, OR, and Tk'ubih is Brownsville, OR
[7] - Chakeipi is Beaverton, OR
[8] - A reference to Imolakte's other name "Keshpekhspukh", meaning "iron forehead". Although Imolakte died several years prior, he is so prestigious that at this point even Amims who live a distance away and never met him still observe the taboo on naming the dead and refuse to speak any of his names out of respect
[9] - Nimaspikh is a few kilometers east of Astoria, OR
