Railroad (Robledo Mountain #4) - Cover

Railroad (Robledo Mountain #4)

Copyright© 2020 by Kraken

Prologue

... Girl-Without-Parents gathered everyone together to listen to Creator.
“I am planning to leave you,” he said. “I wish each of you to do your best toward making a perfect, happy world. You, Lightning-Rumbler, shall have charge of clouds and water ... You, Earth-Daughter, take charge of all crops and Earth-People. You, Pollen-Girl, care for their health and guide them.
“You, Girl-Without-Parents, I leave you in charge overall”...

~ Excerpt from Apache Creation Story ~

Ujesh, senior shaman of the Mescalero Apache, sat down heavily, cross-legged on the old buffalo blanket, near the warmth of the small fire. It took a few moments but, eventually, he finally settled in a position his old aching joints and bones found almost comfortable.

He’d selected this forest clearing, high on the sacred mountain, with care as the location for the coming meeting. It would have been nice if it was summer or early fall, but it was mid-winter. Still, he couldn’t have asked for a better day to hold council with the war leaders of the various bands of Mescalero warriors. The early morning sky was clear, the weather, while cold, was crisp, without wind. He’d sent his latest apprentice off to hunt their evening meal. Glancing over at the small amount of wood stacked near the fire, he decided it would last until his apprentice returned.

With a last glance around the clearing, he looked back at the fire, becoming lost in thought. It would have been nice if he knew who was coming to the council he’d called after his last set of visions but, as usual, the tribe was scattered throughout the land in all directions, many days or, in some cases, weeks travel from the sacred mountain. The war leaders he’d called for this particular meeting were a cantankerous bunch at the best of times and these certainly weren’t the best of times.

Admittedly, he’d had a hand in creating the animosity between those war leaders who advocated cessation of hostilities with the white man and those who demanded not only to continue the raids but, to increase the effort and drive the white men from their land once and for all. His visions had always been, and remained, remarkably clear. Warrior raids against the white man had been going on for hundreds of years and, at least until his last vision, would remain a fact of life for hundreds of more years.

Things changed two years ago though, when Santana, THE war chief, had returned victorious from an epic battle with the hated white man and declared, for no apparent reason, that the war, indeed, the raids, were over. He’d talked to Santana for many hours and, despite relating his detailed visions of continued war with the white man, had been unable to change Santana’s mind.

Those who heard of the decision quickly broke into two camps. One group, relatively small, sided with Santana. He was the war chief after all and the long years of continued war with the white man had significantly reduced the numbers and fortunes of the tribe. The other group, supported by Ujesh, were much more traditional. After all, raids were a necessary part of life, and who better to raid than the hated and despised white man. They also believed Santana had gone far outside his mandate as war chief. A war chief was only elected after the matriarchs, in a tribal council, had determined that a dedicated war, not the more common annual raids, against a particular enemy was necessary. Once begun, a war was continued until the war chief declared to the matriarchs that the tribe was victorious, or recommended cessation of hostilities as a lost cause. It was up to the matriarchs, not the war chief, to make a final decision during a tribal council.

A decision of the magnitude declared by Santana required a tribal council. Luckily, the time for the annual tribal meeting and council was near. Santana reluctantly attended the council and expressed his thoughts to the gathered matriarchs. It boiled down to one set of facts; after hundreds of years of war, there were more white men today than ever before. More white families, more white settlements and towns, more white soldiers. There were fewer Apaches. Fewer Mescalero Apache, fewer Chiricahua Apache, fewer Lipan Apache, fewer Jicarilla Apache, fewer Plains Apache, fewer Western Apache. He saw no end in sight to the arriving whites and the losses of the Apache in general and the Mescalero specifically.

Some, especially the small group of old warriors led by Santana’s father, Barranquito, agreed with Santana. Most, including the matriarchs, sided with Ujesh.

Still, there were warriors, like Cadete and Roman, who sided with Santana. Warriors like those of the southern Garcia families who had listened to the words of one of their cousins, a white cousin and moved to land near Las Cruces under his protection. A white man’s protection.

Ujesh found it hard to believe that his old mentor Jaime Garcia had encouraged the move. In fact, the southern Garcia families had only sent their leader, Miguel, to the tribal council that year. Even then, Miguel had only attended to let the council know the words of his cousin’s vision and the family’s decision to gather on his land and support his efforts.

The vast majority of warriors sided against Santana. Well respected warriors like Cha and Agua Nueves and those of the northern Garcia families. They too had heeded the call of Jaime Garcia, visited the land, and heard the words of the white cousin. Listening to both their leader and Nantan, their shaman, they had rejected what they considered false visions and the subsequent offer.

The final vote against him, Santana, along with a few of his supporters and immediate families had left the tribal council to live in seclusion away from those who voted against him. Oddly - for Santana’s temper was renown - the parting, while swift, had been amicable without threats or recriminations.

Life for the Mescalero settled down following Santana’s departure. Annual raids against the white man and other tribes continued as usual. True to their word, Santana’s band kept to themselves and did not participate in any raids against the white man. It was no great secret where Santana’s band was living but his self-enforced ostracism effectively precluded their participation in most tribal events despite Ujesh’s best efforts.

The stalemate had continued until last Spring when the tribe had received word of the death of the northern Garcia’s leader, and the details of Nantan’s vision. Beside himself with anger over Nantan’s apparent betrayal, Ujesh had done his best to hold the tribe firm in their war against the white man, but it was becoming harder and harder as the number of warriors lost in battle continued to mount. Despite winning the majority of the battles, the Mescalero weren’t able to replace their lost warriors quickly. Additionally, game animals were becoming scarcer, forcing the remaining warriors to spend more time hunting farther away from their camps, reducing the number of warriors available for raids even more.

Then came the night of visions. Four visions in a single long session. Four! A powerful number! If the number wasn’t powerful enough by itself, the visions themselves were overwhelming. Each vision was strong in and of itself; but combined, the four visions simply could not be ignored no matter how much Ujesh wanted to do just that.

Given the power of the number four, Ujesh spent a day on each vision, carefully examining them to ensure the conclusion he reached was correct. Finally, unable to argue with his conclusion, he sent the fastest riders to each of the warrior bands asking that the leaders attend him here in the clearing today. Once the riders had been dispatched, he girded himself and asked all matriarchs within a day’s ride to attend an important meeting in two days’ time.

Ujesh had been surprised that all the available matriarchs had attended his hastily called meeting. Granted, it wasn’t the entire matriarchs’ council, but the numbers were sufficient for his purposes. The meeting, though long, had served its purpose. Ujesh had given the matriarchs his visions, explaining each one individually and then given his conclusion based on the combined visions.

As usual, the matriarchs’ council spent hours discussing each vision as well as Ujesh’s conclusion. Well into the night the talk continued. Ujesh had abandoned any hope of gaining immediate approval for his warriors’ meeting. Surprisingly though, the council had given their approval almost immediately after reconvening early the next morning.

As he sat staring into the fire, Ujesh was worried. Every warrior band, including Santana’s, had acknowledged receiving his summons, but few had indicated whether they would attend or not. For many reasons, it was imperative that as many leaders as possible, of the various camps, attend today’s meeting. Chief among those he needed to attend were Santana and his brother Cadete. Santana because he already led the pro-peace faction of the tribe and Cadete because he was far more diplomatic than Santana. Cadete’s acknowledged diplomatic skills were going to be sorely needed.

Ujesh was startled out of his thoughts when his shoulder was firmly clasped and a hand bearing a cup of hot broth was thrust in front of him. Looking up he saw the firm visage of Santana bent over in front of him.

“Losing yourself in thought is an easy way to die old one. We’ve all been here for over two hours. Shelters have been built, food and wood brought in, and lunch prepared. Through it all, you have ignored us. What has you so disturbed that you’ve forgotten the way of the warrior?” Santana asked calmly as Ujesh accepted the cup of broth he’d offered.

Ignoring the frown on Santana’s face, Ujesh looked deeply into his eyes. Seeing nothing but his own reflection, he couldn’t help but wonder if the man in front of him, with his mercurial temper and violent outbursts, was truly the man to lead the tribe in the coming years.

Glancing around the camp as he took a sip from the cup, he saw that his worry had been needless. Every one of the leaders he had invited had arrived and was, in fact, sitting around him and the fire waiting to hear what he had to say.

“Let us eat and catch up before settling down to discuss what has disturbed me and the reason for this warrior’s council,” he replied.

The source of this story is Finestories

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