One Hundred Years: Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"If you go out in the woods today, You're sure of a big surprise"

Ten years earlier...
February 1st, 2110

Pike was furious at himself. He was crouched down behind a desk in a dilapidated classroom silently cursing himself. Pike's father, Maxwell, was no doubt armed- likely with a gun. Pike had his six inch belt knife, but his machete had disappeared in the avalanche. His hunting bow law in his quiver by his backpack near the fear. And Maxwell was between him and the fire.

Pike knew that Maxwell had followed Pike rather than Cooper when the brothers had separated. Pike had been slower than necessary just to be sure Maxwell couldn't miss him. Pike was seventeen and of comparable size to Maxwell. At ten years old, Cooper was not a match for the Winter Wolf- if only from weight alone. One day Cooper would be a match for anyone- that was obvious even now- but until then (and likely even after that) Pike would die to protect his brother.

Pike could hear Maxwell's footsteps in the hallway. The sound echoed off the old tiles and was clearly audible even above the sounds of the snow storm outside.

"I know you went this way, Pike. You're a good fighter, I think you broke my finger in that last scuffle, but you aren't the scout that your brother Hawk is by a long shot. I saw your tracks and I heard you moving."

"You're protecting hawk. I know that Pike. It's good to see such brotherly loyalty. You'll do well as a Winter Wolf."

Pike resisted the urge to correct Maxwell on Cooper's name. He also resisted the urge to tell his father where the man could stick his damned Winter Wolves. Pike had only a knife and he would need surprise on his side if he was going to succeed in killing his father.

"I know you don't have your bow Pike. I also know Redwings save guns for war- which means you have either a tomahawk or a machete, and a belt knife."

Pike resisted the urge to respond.

"Do you know what I have Pike?"

Pike remained silent.

"I have a 44. Magnum Remington Revolver. This gun is more than a hundred years old and cost more than the total slave value of your whole tribe. It's a genuine Dirty Harry special. Hmmm, that's a television reference. I don't imagine you would get it. It's a gun that could put holes in the mountain spirit if I could get him sighted. This thing could stop a bear, Pike."

Pike's mind raced. What did he have to use? How could he gain the element of surprise? He opened the old teacher's desk and began rummaging around for something to use or even for inspiration.

Maxwell continued his speech in the corridor, "If I hit you with this Pike, you're losing everything in a two foot radius of where I hit you."

"You're making me wait father." Pike called back. Standing up from behind the desk and waiting for his father.

"What are you talking about?"

"You said you would never keep your son waiting when you had promised something. I'm still waiting for that thrashing father."

"Oh, you'll get it. I'm just adding interest on the amount owed."

"That's banking, isn't it? Redwings don't believe in banking."

"That's one more weapon you choose to do without. you have a lot to learn."

"Perhaps you do as well father. I think we should talk. Before you cripple your eldest son."

Maxwell stepped into the classroom. He looked around the room, even looking up at the ceiling.

"Checking for traps, father?"

"Forgive me for not trusting you." Maxwell said.

Pike shook his head and then he laid his belt knife on the teacher's desk- between him and Maxwell.

"You were wrong about my weapons father. I lost the machete in the avalanche." Pike indicated his empty sheath and then the knife on the table, "All I have is my belt knife."

Pike continued, "And that's no use against a gun. But here's the thing you need to learn. You can't kill me with that gun. If you you kill me, you'll never  take Coop alive. So you need to negotiate with me if you want your wife's son back."

Maxwell looked at Pike with an appraising eye, and Pike thought he saw something approaching respect in his father's eyes.

"Cooper's the one you really want, right? He's your heir. He's proof of your alliance marriage and more blackmail to keep Whistler County in line, right? I'm you son, but Cooper is you successor, isn't he?"

Maxwell grinned and stepped closer.

"He's my successor, but you're obviously going to make one hell of a bodyguard for him."

"It's funny that you should say that," Pike whipped his left hand up from behind the desk, revealing the old metal scissors that he had found moments earlier. he swung with the scissors and carved a trail in Maxwell's skin and burst the man's eye in a spray of liquid.

Maxwell screamed in pain and fired the Magnum. But he wasn't aiming, and the shot missed wildly- cracking the blackboard. Pike snapped a kick into the man's groin and dropped Maxwell to the floor. Maxwell fired again and a window exploded, sending a blast of freezing wind and snow into the classroom.

Pike gazed at Maxwell as he clutched his missing eye with one hand and his groin with the other.

"That was from my mother you bastard." Pike said and grabbed his knife off the table.

* * *

Cooper moved a quietly as he could manage, which given that he could see his own sounds, was quieter than anyone else he knew. He hated the idea of going back to the fire, but Cooper knew that he and Pike would need their backpacks. He also knew that Maxwell was following Pike. His father was not a quiet man.

As Cooper approached the fire he could see Dolf sitting quietly sipping the hot chocolate. It would be impossible to get in without being seen. On the other hand, Dolf was slightly built and definitely younger than Cooper, although Cooper still could not tell by how much. He nodded to himself and stood up straight. he considered and then drew his machete just to be sure. The Cooper simply walked straight in.

Dolf looked up, "Hello" he said.

"Hello."

"Would you like some hot chocolate?"

"I'm just here for our backpacks Dolf."

"My father lied to you. He does that." Dolf said quietly.

Cooper stopped and looked at his younger brother, "What did he lie about?"

" Most of it was a lie, but most of the lies were wrapped in a little bit of truth, so it would be hard to explain it."

"Why would he bother?"

"He says that the strong will expect it and the weak deserve it. He says that only a fool gives away the truth when he doesn't need to."

Cooper kept his machete out, although he kept it by his side. Dolf was younger than Cooper maybe as young as five or six, it was hard to tell.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"So you'll hate him."

"I already do." Cooper said.

"I have to make sure. Somebody will kill him one day, because he isn't as strong as he thinks he is."

"You aren't what you seem to be." Cooper said carefully, now unsure whether he should raise his machete or not. He kept it at his side, but Dolf now had him on edge.

"I seem to be little. And I really am. I'm too little to be strong, but that means I'm a target. Bullies pick on me. I could let this be a problem, or I could make it a weapon. If I act wimpy, even once I get bigger nobody will see me as dangerous until I make my move. But if I look wimpy, I have to keep father from naming a 'better' successor. And you're older than me."

"You think that you might not succeed him."

"I'm not taking chances. Pike hates father already and you don't want to be his son, so it doesn't matter if I tell you. I'm the only son that father needs."

Cooper stared at his brother with a look he usually reserved for dogs rolling is sewage, "Why not just kill me then?"

"I plan to, but I'm little, and I need you to hate him in case I fail." And with that, Dolf snatched the pot of boiling water off the fire threw it at Cooper.

Cooper raised his left arm in time to block his face and left side. he hesitated with his right arm, not wanting to cut his face open with a wildly raised machete. As a result the pot bounced off his left arm, burning a black oval into his winter jacket and throwing scalding hot water onto his exposed right side- leaving a splashed burn on his neck that looked like an exploded tangerine.

Cooper screamed and dropped his machete. Dolf was on him in a moment, grasping for the machete as Cooper fought to control the pain. Dolf was smart, especially for somebody that young. He was small and it would have been no contest in a straight fight. As it was, Cooper was struggling to actually make it a fight at all.

* * *

Pike looked down as Maxwell struggled to regain his composure. Pike aimed a kick at Maxwell's face. The blow connected, but Maxwell seemed to wake up at the blow, and he dropped the magnum and  wrapped his arms around Pike's leg before the younger man could retract his foot. And then Maxwell bit into Pike's calf muscle. Pike yelled in pain and fell tot he ground. The two men struggled for control. Maxwell kept scrambling for his dropped magnum while trying to keep a grip on Pike's leg. Pike, for his part, kicked Maxwell in the face repeatedly with his free leg.

"I'm going to have to beat a lot of sense into you boy."

"One of us will. let's see, finger, eye and balls. It's looks like I'm taking the little stuff first, doesn't it?"

Maxwell growled, then twisted and managed to snatch up his gun and fired again, the bullet grazing up Pike's trapped leg and across his back. Pike flinched and arced his back in pain, and then refocused as Maxwell managed to catch his other foot and proceeded to wrap his arms around both legs.

Pike swung his torso and buried his knife in Maxwell's thigh.

Maxwell roared in pain and let go of Pike's leg. Pike scrambled to his feet and tested his leg by cautiously putting weight on it. None of the pain seems to be coming from anything load bearing. And so he ran- heading back for his backpack. From there, he would find Cooper.

One Hundred Years: Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Wolf Tales and Bedtime Stories

Ten years earlier...
February 1st, 2110

The snow had begun to fall heavily and the wind was howling outside the small one story school house in the mountains. Four people huddled inside the abandoned school house: half-brothers Pike Vershevin and Cooper Redwing, and Maxwell Winters and his son Dolf. They were from warring tribes, Maxwell was in fact the leader of the Winter Wolf tribe that was swallowing up other tribes throughout the area. And now Maxwell was telling the brothers that he was their father, that the relationship that they had was his doing.

Maxwell smiled and looked and Pike and Cooper, as they stared at their apparent father.

"I should start at the biggest sticking point. Pike's mother left, fled to be exact, and stole Cooper when she did so. So obviously both of you will be influenced by this fact."

Maxwell settled back into his seat and pulled a pot from his backpack and then removed a small metal stand as well. He quickly set the stand in the fire and then put the pot on top of the stand. He then emptied the contents of a water bottle into the pot and began removing instant hot chocolate packets from his coat.

The boys stared at the packets. It was expensive for tribals to get chocolate.

"No point in denying simple truths, you are both warriors. I can see it in your eyes. You're wolves living amongst crows. So let's start at the ugly part. I took Pike's mother by force. I took her during a raid on the Redwings, and then I claimed her as a prize of war."

Pike glared at Maxwell, the young man's eyes were so intense they almost could have burned like coals into Maxwell's forehead.

"You can hate me for that, but it is the truth. What's further truth is that I don't regret it and I won't apologize for it. After I claimed your mother, Pike, I gave her food and lodging and protection, and did the same for you when you were born. I paid full price to your mother for what I took. This is the currency of the strong, and the weak resent it. The weak try to foist ridiculous 'moralities' that have no bearing on real life upon the rest of us in order to tie us down. The weak try to feed off the strong, and use propaganda and 'morality' to justify it. I found your mother attractive and strong, I knew she would bear strong children. I took her for that reason, but I respected her enough that I paid for what I took. I could have left her for the younger warriors, the lower ranked wolves. They would have enjoyed her, but there wouldn't have been much left once they were done with her."

"Machiavelli said that before all else, we should be armed. The strong survive. The strong prosper. The weak either die out or feed upon the strong. So hate me if you need to on this point, but understand the point. I hate many things that my father did, but I have done more and worse to keep my clan alive."

Pike shook his head, "I hear justifications for savagery and greed. I hear the False King speaking to me across the span of history when you talk."

"Ah, yes, the false king. That is a quaint fairy tale. Tell people that he who is using the most effective tools available is evil and you keep people stronger than you from trying too hard."

"Do you want to know who branded me, father?" Acid hung on the final word, "It was some hulk of man named Fyodor Vanya. I was thirteen and he apparently thought I would make a good slave and male concubine. He managed to drag me back to Winter Wolf territory in a metal cage on wheels before I escaped and killed him- slowly. I saw what your lands look like."

"So that's what happened to 'Teddy Bear' Fyodor."

"You aren't listening to me." Pike continued, "One hundred years ago everything fell apart, because people thought they could take as much as they wanted. They thought that there would be no consequences. One hundred years ago we got ten thousand years of delayed consequences! Any yet your lands are clear cut and your rivers are dried or diverted or so poisoned that the dead fish that float on the water will not rot. I saw people in chains working vast fields! I saw that you have coal burning factories in the center of your territory. I saw the smog and the soot. Five years ago you tricked the other tribes, and they didn't condemn you. Now everyone sees what you are. Everything you say is poison and everything you touch sickens and dies."

"And what's the other option?" Maxwell laughed, "Live in the stone age like your little crow tribe? Coal is an intermediary stage, it's the only fossil fuel that didn't peak and crash. With a little more work we can live like the Africans do, with those vast solar farms and all the power they need for a good standard of living. Your adoptive people live like cave men. It's unsanitary, its sub-human. We were meant for better things."

"We have technology. We live simple lives but we aren't luddites, we just don't want to make such a deep footprint."

Maxwell snorted, "The only reason you have metal arrowheads, let alone technology, is because you trade with people who still mine the ore and build the factories and do all of the things that you abhor. Without other cultures to take the blame for you and do the dirty deeds you won't do, you would have stone arrows and mud huts."

"Better than your way. Your actions will bring back the dark years!"

"You're talking about history like it's mythology boy! The Africans, look at them. Nobody alive when the world collapsed would have expected Africa to be the first world in a hundred years. I'm sure you've read about it, even in your little backwater. The rest of the world was pulling in, and cowering, trying to survive." Maxwell was waving his hands now, and actually dropped the hot chocolate packets as he gestured. The brothers were so wrapped up in the argument that nobody reached for the packets.

"But in Africa," Maxwell continued, "A few visionary leaders began to expand- they started building solar collectors and expanding their influence. Expand when others are scared, and now they are the first world and we are the third. Shifts like these happen all the time boy. Nobody foresaw the fall of the Soviet Union. Nobody expected the great Empires of Europe to implode following the first world war. Nobody expected the fall of Rome. But when they happened opportunists were there to take the reins. The Franks took the reins from the Romans. America took the reins from Europe, and again from the Soviet Union. You called it the dark years, well boy, I call it hunting season."

"Enough."

Maxwell and Pike turned to look. Cooper had spoken with such direct finality that both actually went quiet.

"I don't care why you live that way. I don't care why you do anything. Why doesn't tell me who I am. Why doesn't tell me who my mother was and that is all I care about right now. you can argue with Pike afterword. But if you are a man of your word, then you will honour your promise and you will tell me who my mother is."

Maxwell laughed, "Even in that nest, you still became my sons! Very well, I would never keep my son waiting when I had promised him something. your mother is Rose Winters. She was Rose Hunter before I married her, her father is the Mayor of Whistler County. The marriage cemented the alliance between our two groups. I love her very much and she misses you. Although she thinks you're dead."

Cooper shook his head, "A townee. My mother is a townee and my father serves the False King. I may as well fly a locust flag outside my home."

"You mother is a good woman, and you should show her some respect."

"It doesn't make her any less a townee, even if she was an Ascended Master, it still means by rights I should fly a locust as my flag."

"You should really fly a wolf flag. Or a hawk- Hawk is still your name after all. Nothing that nest of crows does changes that. Do you know how it turns my stomach to know that you have been living with Redwing all of this time? Who knows what damage that old fool has done to your education."

Cooper's eyes darkened, "My name is not Hawk. My name is Cooper Redwing. I am named after my Uncle: Redwing-lives-forever. Even if he was lying when he said I was his nephew, he has been more of an Uncle to me, more of a parent to me, than you could ever be."

"Oh he wasn't lying. He is your uncle- your great uncle to be exact. Although I didn't think he was capable of doing anything right, much less telling the truth."

"Why do you hate him so much?"

"He killed my mother: his sister-in-law. You'll have to ask him about that, if you ever see him on the battlefield. I don't enjoy relating that story."

"What do you mean, see him on the battlefield?" Pike interjected.

"You don't think that I'm going to let my sons go back to my lifelong enemy, do you?"

Pike sprang to his feet, but Maxwell waved idly at him, "Don't worry about that until the snow storm has stopped. You can try and fail to get away once the weather is reasonable. Weather this cold can't last too long."

Pike reached for his machete and Maxwell was up in a moment and had his left hand clamped around Pike's right, preventing the younger man from drawing the blade.

Pike reached his free hand around and grabbed his father's pinky finger and snapped it backwards, provoking a yell of pain and a series of curses from Maxwell. Maxwell let go of Pike's hand and Pike and Cooper used the space to bolt out of the room and dash in opposite directions.

Maxwell stared, and then cursed matter-of-factly.

He looked at Dolf, "Stay here, I'll be back and likely, so will they. Eventually they will want their backpacks, so guard them. Dolf nodded his head.

Maxwell turned back to the door and walked out after his elder sons.

Dolf was alone at the fire as his father closed the door to the room behind him.

"Would anyone like hot chocolate?" He said quietly, and then picked up the fallen hot chocolate packets. he tore one of them open carefully and poured thepowdered mix into his thermos and then gently poured some of the boiling water from the pot into the thermos. He replaced the pot on the stand, letting the remaining water continue boiling. Then he sealed the thermos and shook it vigorously. After a minute or so of shaking, he unscrewed the cap and- after letting the hot chocolate cool- began to sip.

One Hundred Years: Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The Serpent that now wears his Crown

Now...
December 20th, 2120

"I hate the snow." one of the children said as the Redwing tribe continued its trek.

Redwing-lives-forever smiled sadly, "We aren't used to snow anymore. It was more common when I was your age. I remember when Cooper and Pike decided to test themselves in the mountains against the winter. That was a moment that would change everything."

Ten years earlier...
February 1st, 2110

Pike and Coop crouched like stones as the snow fell around them. Snow still fell in the high mountains and the boys were wrapped in furs to guard against the uncommon cold. Snow Snow rarely fell elsewhere and so the high mountains were a test of endurance that most young warriors sought at least once. Pike was seventeen now and Cooper was ten. Pike was  warrior and only puberty stood in Cooper's way of being a warrior as well.

The brothers were hunting a white-tailed deer, an ancient buck with a massive sweeping rack of antlers that many young warriors had tried to bring down over the years.  The old buck was called the Old Man by the Redwing tribe and nobody had brought it down for nearly ten years. Each year the Old Man reappeared during the rut season in the autumn. And every autumn young warriors would head out to try and bring in the Old Man. Tribe members argued over whether the Old Man should be hunted any more. The argument was that the Old Man had lived so long and so well that he should left alone. Other members argued that hunting the Old Man did a service to the deer population, because if a hunter could kill the Old Man then young bucks would be able to breed and strengthen the genetic diversity of the local deer population.

Cooper and Pike were interested in the challenge of hunting such an old and clever quarry as the Old Man. So the brothers crouched, high in the coast mountains as the snow fell around them and the cold crept into their joints, watching as several does fed in the clearing ahead of them.

Cooper looked at Pike and quickly signed to his brother. He kept his hands behind their deer blind so the movement wouldn't spook the deer.

I haven't seen anything to indicate that bucks are around right now.

Pike signed back him.

Not today, but you've seen the tracks. you know he grazes here.

Cooper gave a slow subtle nod so as not to stand out from the landscape.

The snow is getting to me.

Pike nodded slowly.

The elders say we used to get snow at lower elevations every winter.

Cooper was about to answer when something caught his attention. He froze and moved his eyes without moving his head- scanning everything in front of him and only then slowly turning his head to scan the surrounding area.

It was the does, both does had their tails up in alarm and were looking to north.

Cooper was no longer looking at Pike. So Pike whispered to Cooper instead of signing.

“Can you see what they're looking at Coop?”

“No. and I don't hear anything that sounds like a predator. That doesn't mean there isn't one, of course.”

“They aren't acting like there's a predator.”

Cooper studied the does, they had begun to trot to the south, tails up. They weren't bounding away, as they would if they thought there were wolves or a mountain lion. Something had the does worried, but they didn't need to out run whatever it was that was worrying them. At least they didn't need to outrun it yet.

“It's got to be a change in the weather,” Cooper said carefully, “No reason to run away from any weather short of a avalanche or a tornado, but best to seek shelter if bad weather is coming.”

Pike nodded, “Any idea what kind of weather?”

Cooper listened, eyes closed and paid attention to the colors the sound made. The mountains were very quiet. He could here the dark indigo crunch of the does trotting away, and a light almost invisible green whistling from high altitude winds, but little else.

“Nothing immediate, but if the animals are moving its probably big,” Cooper said.

“A snow storm you think?” Pike asked.

“Maybe, I've never seen one. What do you think it will be like?” Cooper answered.

"Probably colder than this. Probably a lot a wind. Probably really loud," Pike said.

Cooper winced at the thought, if things got too loud he would have trouble seeing. That could be a problem in dangerous weather like a snow storm.

"We should try and find shelter, maybe try to get off the mountain," Cooper said after a moment's silence.

Pike considered and then nodded, "The Old Man is too smart to be out and about if a big storm is coming."

***

Twenty minutes later the brothers were heading down the mountain, when Cooper stopped walking and cocked his head from the left to the right. 

Pike looked at his half brother, "What is it?"

"I can see waves of really dark orange coming from the ground."

"Your synesthesia? What do orange waves mean?"

"A really deep bass sound, and its coming from the ground- beneath our feet, and all the way up the mountain."

Pike was silent for a second, "The ground is rumbling?"

"Yeah..."

"I remember reading about avalanches in Elder Wong's library. If snow builds up too much it can break loose and all coming rolling down and its like a tidal wave only made of snow."

"You think this rumbling is one of those avalanches?"

"I can't think what else it could be. Can you?"

Cooper focused on the orange waves rumbling around the edge of his vision. It was getting brighter- meaning louder- although he still couldn't consciously hear the sounds.

"Either way its getting louder, and probably closer, so we should move."

Pike's head snapped up, " I can hear it! And feel it! Run!"

Cooper could feel it too, the rumbling was now shaking his feet and the sound had quickly come out of nowhere to dominate the landscape. He looked up the mountain and saw a wall of snow hurtling down towards them.

"No time!" He yelled at Pike. Cooper cast around wildly and then spotted a large stand of trees directly behind Pike some thirty feet away. They were huge old trees, at least a century old and look well rooted.

"There! Run for the trees, they might shelter us!"

The brothers ran. The looming wall of snow continued to hurtle towards them at an unbelievable speed. Trees and boulders were caught by the avalanche and uprooted or launched ahead of the snow from its weight and momentum.

Pike reached into his backpack as they ran and drew out of length of hemp rope. The brothers hit the stand of trees moments ahead of the avalanche. They dove into the center of the stand and Pike looped the rope around a large tree and thrust the loose end at Cooper.

"Tie it off!" Pike yelled over the roar of the snow, as he tied the end he held around his waist and then gripped firmly with both hands.

Cooper could hardly see, the orange waves were now covering his entire field of vision and in addition Cooper could see overlaying spikes of green and indigo every time a tree cracked in half or a boulder split open against another stone. He worked by feel, wrapping the rope around his waist and had an overhand knot just finished as the wall of snow and ice thundered into the trees!

There was a rainbow of creaks and cracks from the trees and they bent and two smaller trees on the outside broke away. Freezing snow tore through the spaces in the stand of trees and ripped at the brothers. They couldn't see each other, couldn't feel their hands to tell if they were still holding on the rope, couldn't hear anything except the roar of the avalanche.

And then silence.

The mountain was still again. The stand of trees still stood, minus only two smaller trees who had given way. But the trees were now buried in hard packed snow almost fifteen feet deep.

Nothing moved on the mountain.

* * * 

Cooper came to consciousness slowly, drawn back by the bright green lines of somebody scraping at the ice.

"Can anyone hear me down there?" Cooper thought he recognized the voice, but wasn't certain.

"He opened his mouth and managed to croak a weak reply, "Here..."

"I saw two of you go under the avalanche, can you see the other one?"

Cooper tried to look around and found he couldn't even turn his head.

"Can't see anything..." He managed hoarsely.

"Well hang in there warrior. That was an impressive display, and I'm not letting anyone with that kind of mettle die without a fight."

The scraping continued above Cooper for several minutes until the ceiling of snow opened above him.  Cooper could see the man above him, and recognized him.

It was Maxwell Winters: leader of the Winter Wolves.

Maxwell smiled down at Cooper.

"Well young warrior let's get you out and start to work on your comrade. You're lucky my son and I were hunting the Old Man today, or you would have been finished."

Cooper was too numb to respond as Maxwell and the boy with him, who looked younger than Cooper, pulled Cooper up. About halfway out of the snow, Cooper abruptly caught on something.

Maxwell looked past Cooper and saw the rope wrapped around Cooper's waist.

"Is that hooked to your comrade?"

"Yes."

"Smart move." Maxwell cut the rope with a flick of his bowie knife and re sheathed it in an easy motion.

Then the older man heaved Cooper the rest of the way out and turned to his son, "Dolf, get in there and start digging. Pass the snow up to me and we'll tunnel to the other one."

Dolf nodded and jumped into the hole.

Cooper lay on the snow, he had begun to shiver violently, and the sound of his own shivering was obscuring his vision badly.

Maxwell looked over and said, "Hang in there. I saw an old school still standing in a ghost town nearby. We can camp there and heat you up. You'll make it, you're a warrior. If not, well the winter proves who is worthy."

And with that Maxwell turned back to helping his son Dolf unearth Pike.

And then Cooper closed his eyes and passed out.

* * *

Cooper awoke indoors to a fire crackling. Pike was already awake and warming himself by the fire. The old school swayed in the wind and creaked as snow built up on the flat roof. The brothers stared across the fire at the Warlord of the Winter Wolves and his son. The boys took their gloves off to warm their hands against the heat of the fire. Maxwell Winters eyed the wrapping on Pike's hands.

“Why are your hands wrapped?”

“I'm a boxer.”

“No you aren't. I recognise you. You're Pike Vershevin. Your mother was Lana wasn't she?”

“No.”

“You're lying. I remember her face and you look just like her. Who is this?”

"My friend Coop. Why do you care?"

"Who are you bound to Pike?"

"Nobody." Pike said sharply.

"Does your friend know what's under those bandages?"

"Shut up!" Pike was yelling now.

Maxwell stood up and yelled back at the young man, carefully separating each word as he yelled, "I want to know who my eldest son is bound to!"

"You're not my father!"

With that Maxwell straightened up and stepped straight over the fire and grabbed Pike's wrist. In one fluid motion Maxwell slipped his bowie knife from its sheath and slid it under Pike's bandages. Pike struggled, but he was still too numb from the hypothermia to resist well. He did manage to cut himself on the knife a little, but Maxwell deftly sliced through the bandages on Pike's right hand, exposing the snowflake brand on Pike's palm.

Of course Cooper had seen the brand. He didn't know how Pike had got it, but he knew it happened on Pike's first vision quest. Everyone had secrets, and Cooper hadn't pressed his brother on it; but he knew that snowflakes on the palms were a Winter Wolf sign and it had always scared Cooper that his brother bore them.

"You are my son! Now who are you bound to?"

"You're not my father!"

"Nobody else took your mother that night boy! Your options for a father are limited!"

"You're not my father." Pike sounded deflated now, as though all the air had gone out of him.

"Then who raised you before your mother fled? I gave you food and hearth and care until you were seven winters old. You are my blood and my legacy, as are Dolf and Hawk, whatever your mother did with Hawk."

Maxwell turned then and looked at Cooper. He scanned the boy's face as though something had suddenly occurred to him.

"Who are you?"

Cooper could barely think to respond at this point, his mind whirling as it tried to process what he had heard, "Cooper."
"You were at the meeting of the Great Alliance a few years ago, weren't you? With Redwing-lives-forever, isn't that right."
Cooper nodded. Seeing no point in denying it.

"Who is your father, boy?"

Scared now, Cooper gathered his anger and focused before he answered, "My father is dead. Your people killed both my parents."

Maxwell looked at Pike and then back at Cooper and then shook his head.

"You're lying too."

"I can see the resemblance between you and Pike, and Dolf. So you're Cooper are you? Well you're my lost son Hawk as well- so I guess you're Cooper Hawk now."

Cooper tried to wrap his head around this and failed.

Maxwell chuckled, "Such a charming family reunion. My eldest son is bound to another of my clan and I don't know who. My second eldest doesn't even know his parents. And on top of that, you're both members of my most hated foe. What am I to do?"

Neither boy spoke, Pike was wrapping the shredded bandages around the cut on his arm, and Cooper was looking straight into the fire.

"Such cowardice does not become my sons. Face the truth you two. You are what you are! If you wish I will tell you what Redwing was obviously afraid to reveal. Do you want to know your childhood? Cooper, do you want to know your mother's name? Did you know she's still alive? She's mother to Dolf as well. Pike is your half brother, but Dolf is your full brother. Would you like to know the truth?"

In the silence, the fire crackled away. Finally Cooper looked up at Maxwell and nodded.

"If I am a monster I should at least know what kind of monster." He said quietly.

Maxwell smiled, "There is nothing wrong with being a monster, boy. Monsters tend to live longer. Now let's see. where to begin? Ahhh, I know..."

Read Chapter 10 Here

One Hundred Years: Chapter 8

Chapter 8

A Cultural Interlude

Religion of the tribes of the Great Alliance
From "A History of the 21st Century", by Zithembe Nkosi
Published by ZuluHeart Press, copyright 2120

The Great Alliance is a largely heterogeneous group with regards to religion and politics. The tribes are held together by a few agreements, which are in fact very similar to the basic functions of the Democratic Republic of Oregon whom they dislike.  The functions of the Great Alliance are as follows: allow the various tribes to explain disputes amongst a larger group to socially enforce the laws of the Great Alliance and to act of a forum to raise support or alarms quickly in the event of large threats to all Alliance members.

The basic laws of the Great Alliance are simple. Do not try to be a king or god. Do not expand into the territory of another tribe. Do not conquer (although raiding to prove strength and reaffirm boundaries is allowed, and even encouraged to help the young warriors compete and stay ready). Control one's population. Follow the Seven Generation Law (do nothing that will negatively affect the environment even seven generations into the future).

The laws of the Great Alliance were drafted by the earliest member tribes and communes, and as such have a largely new age/pseudo-Native American feel with a heavy ecological focus. The makers of the law did not trust large groups, civilization, leaders or hierarchy in general, and sought to create a system of rules that was largely enforced by individual members and did not require the creation of separate organizations such as the police or the military.

Historians are uncertain whether these ideas sprang from the most common religion of the Great Alliance or whether the religion of the Great Alliance sprang from these laws. The rest of the Pacific Northwest tends to be aligned with the Unified Church of Healing, which is am amalgamation of the many immigrant religions of the region, from Shinto to Hindu, from Christianity to Buddhism, from New Age to Sikhism. The religion of the Pacific Northwest is a melting pot, but the ingredients are largely recognisable. The religion of the Great Alliance is less easily de-constructed.

The official religion of the Great Alliance is a naturalistic religion. Called the Way of the Seven Siblings, or simply 'the Way' or even 'the Seven', the religion of the Alliance believes in a naturalistic world with no ghosts, spirits, gods, magic or miracles. Many of the individual members of the Great Alliance do believe in such things, but do so from either personal experience or on the basis of personal spiritual convictions.

'The Way' centers around the exploits of a group of seven explicitly mythical siblings, understood to be archetypal representations of the seven essential roles within a functioning society. The siblings are (from oldest to youngest): Munin, Jatar, Sargas, Martegas, Gygas, Rusinas, Kurnos.

Munin is the eldest, she is represented by a raven and her role is to question authority and to play the role of journalist and fool and trickster. Munin's job is to keep individuals from accumulating too much power, or using authority for corrupt purposes. Her name is almost certainly based upon one of the two ravens of Odin from Norse mythology.

Jatar is the next eldest, she is represented by a serpent and her role is to learn about the world and then to teach it to the next generation. She is researcher and teacher in a single package. Some researchers feel her name is based upon the masculineArabic name Jafar or 'a stream'. Other researchers think that the name derives from the Finnish female devil Ajatar.

Sargas is the eldest brother and he is represented by an owl and his role is to mediate disputes and make certain restitution is made. The practices of Sargas are based heavily of Native American concepts of restorative justice. Sargas is the name of a star in the constellation Scorpio.

Martegas is the second brother and represented by the rabbit. Martegas is the history keeper and the storyteller and traditional Master of Ceremonies. His name is likely based on Mateguas- a rabbit spirit of the Northeastern Native American mythology.

Gygas is the third brother. He is represented by the wolf and his role is the warrior. His name is the name of one of the hundred handed who fought for Zeus and assured that God's victory inGreek mythology.

Rusinas is the youngest sister. She is represented by a stalk of corn and is thus the only sibling not symbolized by an animal. She represents nurturing and healing, as well as their own agricultural practises. Rusinas name is believed by researchers to be based on a Roman harvest goddess name Rusina.

Kurnos is the youngest brother and youngest sibling. He is depicted initially as being represented by a mountain lion, and then later by a locust. His role was initially that of leadership through initiative and daring action, but he succumbed to greed and tried to possess the locust spirit and corrupted the power of that spirit, thus becoming the False King.

The False King is the 'Shaitan' or devil figure of the Great Alliance. Seen not as an individual but as a cultural virus. The False King was described to archaeologist Lwazi Silongo this way: "The False King is the idea that people can expand without limit and without consequence. The False King is the idea that you must follow his one way to be right, and if you do not you may be conquered or exterminated. The False King offers everyone a choice, feast with me and die tomorrow or fight against me and die today."

In one of the earliest stories about Kurnos after he has become the False King, Kurnos murders Rusinas and waters his fields with her blood and uses her body as fertilizer in an echo of the Christian story of Cain and Abel. The other siblings cast Kurnos out of the tribe and he leaves. Kurnos then infects other tribes with the ideology of the False King and returns and conquers his old tribe and forces the siblings into hiding.

Kurnos spreads his power across the land devouring or assimilating all in his path until there is nothing left but the five remaining siblings who are still in hiding. In the end of this story, modern people discover the five surviving siblings who reveal the principles by which people may live in harmony with the rest of the world.

This creation story should make it clear to the modern African reader why the DRO has had such a difficult time making peace with the Great Alliance. the ideology of the Great Alliance in fact sees civilization and much of the resulting progress as evil and in fact equates it with their own devil figure.

One Hundred Years: Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The Bitter End

Now...
December 20th, 2120

"But who was Cooper's real father then" One of the children asked.

Redwing-lives-forever shook his head and adjusted his red and black ceremonial blanket as they walked.

"All in good time. Every part of a story has its own time for telling. Tell me children- do any of you know why the Winter Wolves are not allowed to speak at meetings of the Great Alliance?"

The children were silent as they walked and considered Redwing's question. There was snow this winter, which was especially rare on the west coast. And the only sound was the shuffing and splorching of moccasins in wet cold snow.

"Didn’t you say that they were talking for the False King?"

Redwing nodded quietly, "And what did I say proved that they were speaking for the false king?"

The children were silent again, save for the sound of wet moccasins as the children and their guardians moved through the forest heading for safety. Finally, after several minutes Pike's daughter Sparrow spoke up.

"They want to get really big and they're hurting other tribes and townees to do it. Right?"

"Yes, that is one of the charges that I leveled against the Winter Wolves- that they were expanding without regard to limitation and that they were devouring other tribes in order to expand. The natural world is a world of limits, and anything that seeks to expand without limit is a danger to all life. Anything that seeks to expand like this is a cancer, the false king incarnate. What other charges did I level against the Winter Wolves?"

The children whispered amongst themselves this time, trying to come to a consensus.

"They raid with guns and not raiding staves."

"They try to kill everyone in a tribe, instead of raiding and making peace."

"They're mean!"

Redwing smiled at the last comment and intervened," Being mean is not a crime against the Great Alliance. If it was, the Black Rider Tribe to the north would have been thrown out of the Alliance long ago. The laws of the Great Alliance are simple, but not always easy to follow. To live in the Great Alliance, a tribe must keep themselves in check. They must not expand like a plague. They must not conquer, although they may seek retribution. They must stay light upon the mother earth. For some people this is hard, the lure of the false king and his bargain are too great for many people to resist. And what does he promise?"

Lamont Freeman's daughter Joy answered, "He promises power for you today, at the cost of everyone's tomorrow."

"Very good Joy. He offers all the bounty of the earth now, but in order to have it now, there is nothing left to bloom tomorrow. If you to understand the rest of Cooper's story and how his story relates to my own story and how they both explain the war between us and the Winter Wolves- then you need to hear the story of the meeting of the Great Alliance where the Winter Wolves were forbidden to speak."

* * *

Fifteen years earlier...

June 21st, 2105

 

The council of the Great Alliance met in a open air amphitheater, carved out a hillside with great slabs of rock dragged in to help stop erosion from reclaiming the land. The Seating areas had canopies built above them and then covered in moss to help hide the amphitheater from aircraft. It was raining lightly as the tribes began to gather.

Redwing-lives-forever walked beside Fergus Wong and Cooper Redwing. Trailing a little behind them were Koko Freeman and Alice Wellington, who were officially here as representatives of the Redwing Tribe and unofficially here as guards for the two elders. Redwing leaned on his walking stick- heavier than needed, but he was playing the part of an old man. Redwing was nearing his hundredth year, but was still strong for his age and more agile than most suspected. Fergus Wong was not much younger, and it showed in his weathered face and wild hair that reminded his contemporaries of Albert Einstein. Fergus also leaned on a walking stick- made from a steel pipe and painted black. Fergus had been a fierce warrior once, and although he needed the cane to walk, his arms were still strong enough to make the cane a deterrent against harm. Fergus dressed in the standard Redwing garb, brigandine armor with no sleeves, the loose leather pants with knee high moccasins wrapped with a leather thong. All of Fergus' clothes were dyed black however, which made him stand out against the red-brown of the rest of the Redwing tribe members. Both Redwing and Fergus also wore ceremonial blankets befitting their status as elders. Redwing's blanket was decorated in northwest traditional red, white and black Native American style. Two bright Red wings spread across Redwings shoulders, wrapped in black and white. Fergus Wore a black blanket with a single white Chinese ideogram on his back "Thunder".

Fergus looked to his left and then coughed towards Redwing, "They're here."

Redwing didn't look, "I know. I can smell the milk from here."

Fergus continued, "I see Maxwell and his entourage. I think he brought every bodyguard he has. Even his 'wife' is here. He looks like he's spoiling for a fight."

"He won't be allowed to bring any more than five members into the council though, so it hardly matters. Everyone brings a show a force to these meetings in order to back up their words." Redwing answered.

"So why didn't we?"

Redwing smiled, "We have something stronger than arms. If we came here with military force and tried to make the argument we are about to make, it would have far less credibility than if two old men and a small child made the argument, protected by only two bodyguards and the good will of their neighbors."

As the two old men spoke another old man was approaching from a different camp. He was dressed in loose leather breeches and wool poncho decorated in brown and green leaf patterns. His head was shaved and his skin was a permanently tanned shade of nut brown.

"Redwing! Fergus! It's great to see you. And who is this?"

Redwing smiled, "Vincent Wilder, it is good to see you too. This is Cooper Redwing; he's an orphan the tribe took in."

Vincent looked at Redwing silently for a moment. Redwing met his gaze calmly. Finally, Vincent nodded...

"It's good to meet you Cooper." He said.

"It's good to meet you too, sir." Cooper said looking up at the man.

"He must be an orphan, no Redwing is that polite to their elders. Show respect for Munin before your elders. Isn't that what you say?"

Redwing chuckled, "When you question your elders, you respect the community and defend it from pride. Yes, that is our way."

"Does that work?"

"It seems to."

Wilder paused and looked over to the Winter Wolves. He pressed his palms together and flexed his fingers, his eyes looking into the distance.

"Redwing, I do not know if you have the support you need. You are making a gamble. I have found no other tribe willing to call the Winter Wolves as conquerors."

"Surely your tribe- The Free Mountain Communes..."

"None of the communes have been attacked old friend. None of my people have first hand accounts they can bring forward. We will support your claims, but on the basis of your reputation alone. And I do not think that will be enough to remove the Winter Wolves from the Alliance."

"Then what about the Caribou Hills tribe? They were attacked. Our scouts were there. We lost five warriors helping the first village evacuate. Surely they will stand forward."

"Old friend, they claim that they were never attacked."

Redwing was quiet. Fergus looked at the ground avoiding Redwing's searching gaze. Cooper had never seen his Uncle look as old as in this moment. But the moment passed, and Redwing's face set into a look of resolve.

"That means the Caribou Hills Tribe was conquered. The Wolves are playing a careful game. They are not admitting to their conquests. This way they can claim legitimacy and still expand. It is a bold move and not a foolish one. What about the Jerome Clan? They also are near neighbors to the Winter Wolves, and what about the Clear Wind Ranch, they are close as well."

"The Clear Wind Ranch claims to have seen no hostility. I spoke with Anne Jerome and the Jerome Clan delegation. She says her clan has seen a lot of movement of supplies and people in Clear Wind Ranch territory, but said that raids have died down well below the level one expects of a neighboring tribe. They are suspicious but they have no proof."

"This weakens our position significantly. I was expecting the support of Caribou Hills Tribe. We will have to take a different tactic then. We shall aim to weaken their influence and try to force an accounting by the Alliance. But we will work with what we have. Take your seats so this can begin."

Cooper found the ceremony long and boring, as each delegation was introduced and named. It was more than an hour before members were allowed to speak. However when members were allowed to make claims, Redwing stood immediately. Several other delegates had been moving to stand as well, but all sat when Redwing pushed up from his seat.

"The Council of the Great Alliance recognizes founding elder Redwing-lives-forever."

"Thank you Speaker. I am here for a dark purpose, and for this I apologize. You all know me. You know I do not speak lightly. So I hope you will listen now as I charge the Winter Wolves with being taken by the False King." Redwing said solemnly. The people in the council burst into shouts and murmurs as Redwing spoke. Redwing continued speaking. "They are engaged in an attempt to eradicate the Redwing tribe. They attempted to conquer the Caribou Hills tribe- my warriors died defending a Caribou Village several months ago. I fear that the Caribous Hills tribe has been conquered. The Winter Wolves are further engaged in trade with the cities of the DRO, and while this is not illegal, it does not speak to the spirit of the Alliance Laws."

One of the young warriors on the Caribou Delegation stood up and stepped forward.

"The Council of the Great Alliance recognizes delegate Byron Jacks."

"This is an outrage! We are not conquered. The Winter Wolves have not even made attacks against us. This is baseless! I respect the founding elder, as all of us do, but he is nearly a century old. I doubt his memory and I doubt his judgment. Our tribe prospers and has nothing to complain about. If the Redwing tribe has lost warriors, it was not at our village."

Alice Wellington shot out of her seat and stormed forward, "You bastard! You city coward! My husband died in your village so your children and elders could escape! I watched him die, and couldn't help him because it would have left your people undefended as they fled! You defile the lives we gave, and the lives of your own that died. You disrespect the Alliance and Law of the Alliance and your own ancestors with your words."

"Alice Wellington, you speak out of turn. The Council has not recognized you yet."

Anne Jerome stood up and walked forward. She was tall and willowy with eyes like iron fillings.

"The Council of the Great Alliance recognizes delegate Anne Jerome. “

“My clan has seen disturbing signs,” Anne said, “Supplies moving in greater number than I have ever seen in peace time. Normal raiding has disappeared, like a dangerous calm. Neighboring tribes seem odd. The Caribou Hills delegation is composed of one respected elder who won’t meet my gaze and four strange thugs who I have never seen before. I do not like this, and I do not intend to wait for the day when I wake up to find snowflakes on my palms to realize that I have lost my freedom and my clan to the False King.”

A wave of murmurs ran through the crowd. And as they subsided, Anne continued speaking.

“I have no proof that is conclusive. But all tribes not yet silenced must see what I see. We did not form the Great Alliance to allow its ideal to be compromised by red tape and bureaucracy. These are the ways of the False King. The Winter Wolves and their pawns reveal their corruption by hiding behind them.”

Abigail Driskell, an elder for the Clear Wind Ranch stood up.

"The Council of the Great Alliance recognizes delegate Abigail Driskell. Anne Jerome please be seated."

Anne nodded and sat down. Abigail was shaped like an over ripe apple- round but no longer firm. Her hair was wrapped up into a grey bird’s nest and she wore an overly friendly smile.

“The Jerome Clan is correct to warn against too much bureaucracy. Anne Jerome is right to say that this can be used as a dangerous tool of the False King. But, let us not forget either that the laws of the Great Alliance are also here to protect us from each other. My Ranch does not require new members to marry into the Jerome Clan in order to join. This works for the Jerome Clan, but it bothers me. My Ranch does not send children into the warrior pits in order to be adults, as the Winter Wolves do. I think this throw back to Sparta is horrible, but it seems to work for them. I do not like the secrecy of the Redwing tribe regarding the location of their village. It strikes me as dishonest, but they have been honest in all their dealings with us so I do not complain.”

The council was silent at this point. And Abigail continued.

“We all have laws and traditions that frighten or disgust the other members of the alliance. That is why there are such strict rules regarding the accusations that Redwing has made. I do not dispute the Redwing tribe's accusations. They have seen them they say. That is what we ask of them. For the motion to carry some other member must also have seen this behavior. This is because there are many ways to live in line with alliance law, and many of them would horrify those who choose not to live be them. We must be certain or we cease to be an alliance and become a nation under the rule of the council and on the road to becoming the servants of the False King- one and all.”

Vikram Patara stood up. He was the Captain of the River Gypsies and built like a short nutmeg colored bowling ball. He was missing the first two fingers of his right hand and was bald with chalk white mutton chops style mustache.

"The Council of the Great Alliance recognizes delegate Vikram Patara. Abigail Driskell please be seated."

Abigail sat down and Vikram began speaking in a booming heavily accented baritone, “My people travel the rivers, all river are our home. We trade wherever the water reach. We see many thing and many thing that we see, we see unknown to those who do them. We keep the Hindi language of my great grandfather. So we may speak without the ear of the stranger understanding. We are outsider in everything and this is our strength.”

“We trade with the Redwing. They are honest, we will speak to that. We trade to the Winter Wolf people. They are harsh, and we do not know if they are honest, but we do not speak against them. But we do speak against the Caribou Hills people. We see strange things as well. Like the Jerome, we see things moving more than normal. And like the Jerome we see new people on the Caribou delegation. But unlike the Jerome, we know the new people. They are from the Winter Wolf people.”

The council burst into conversation as delegation began to speak to each other and yell out of turn. Vikram held up his hands.

“This prove none of what Jerome accuse or Redwing accuse. This is suspicious, but people get married and we all know that will small town we must send young people to other tribes to keep us from breeding too close for genetic comfort. So I say this is suspicious, but I do not say this is proof.”

Vikram turned and sat back down as the volume level rose in the amphitheater. Maxwell Winters rose from his chair and the crowd of delegates went silent. Maxwell was of average height and slim with a narrow face and dark hair. He wore a musketeer mustache and goatee with his hair greased back in a ponytail.

"The Council of the Great Alliance recognizes delegate Maxwell Winters."

Maxwell nodded and addressed the council, “We are not a sociable clan. We do not apologize for this. Life is hard and the strong alone are worthy of our time. But we do not follow the False King. The elder Redwing and my family have… history together. I do not think he is unbiased in this. Nobody would call me unbiased were we reversed in this situation. Both sides have inflicted wounds that fester. We raid them and they raid us. This is allowed under alliance law. We do not seek conquest. Quite frankly few of our neighbors would meet the standards to which we hold all Winter Wolf adults. Expansion is of no interest to us. Strength and the ability to survive is of interest to us. I do not think that elder Redwing is senile, as the Caribou Hills representative suggests. I think he is angry and biased by our long rivalry. I do not think that it is appropriate for either of our groups to draw the entire alliance into our feud. That is all I wish to say. “

As the crowd began to murmur again, Vincent Wilder stood up.

"The Council of the Great Alliance recognizes delegate Vincent Wilder."

Vincent Wilder looked around slowly, as though gathering the attention of the delegates. Then he spoke. “I am Vincent Wilder of the Free Mountain Communes. I will put all thought of neutrality aside now. I am not neutral in this. The Free Mountain Communes were home to Redwing-lives-forever and his father: Jack Yellowcrow. This was before there was a Redwing tribe. It is because of the actions of Redwing that The Free Mountain Communes still exist at all. Our parent group, the Hidden Waters Eco-Village has been absorbed by the DRO, out of this were born the Free Mountain Commune and the Redwing Tribe. We are still in their debt.”

Vincent paused and looked around at the groups assembled and then he pointed to one group who had been silent.

“The Black Riders are feared even amongst the tribes of the Great Alliance, but they had their numbers bolstered by Redwing Warriors when the RNT armies swept in from the North.”

Vincent pointed out another group, “The Nova Roma Gypsy clan has been accused of serving the False King before, by a rival clan who coveted the Nova Roma trade agreements. It was the Redwing tribe who insisted upon a multi-tribe investigation so nobody could claim bias in the final product, and it was this investigation that revealed the other clans ties to the Demon City of Seattle.”

“I could go on, Elder Redwing is older than the Alliance itself and virtually every tribe, clan and commune here owes his tribe something. Yes, they are secretive. Yes, they are private. Yes, they are strange. But even the Winter Wolves benefit from the hard work of the elders of that tribe. I have known Redwing for almost my entire life, and in that time the only thing I have ever known him to be dishonest about is his hair color.”

The assembled delegations laughed, and Vincent continued, “But beside the henna Redwing purchases from the free ports, I know no reason not to believe his words. As Abigail has pointed out, the limits of Alliance law are there to protect the independence of each tribe, clan and so on. Nobody else has seen what the Redwing tribe has seen. So be it. The Winter Wolves cannot be banned from the Alliance without additional support. But let us follow the wisdom of Alliance history. Let us form an investigative unit, made up of many delegations, and look into the claims made today. The Redwing tribe alone brings eyewitness accounts, but the River Gypsies and the Jerome Clan both bring evidence that is worrying. It may be nothing. As Vikram says, these things are suspicious by may have reasonable explanations. So let us seek those reasonable explanations. It is within the power of the council to do this. Let us see and end to this.”

Maxwell stood back up, “We will not allow such an attack upon our independence. Any investigative delegation will be turned away.”

Redwing stood back up, “This speaks volumes fellow delegates. If the Winter Wolves will not allow an investigation, then I motion that they be denied the right to speak at council meetings until such time as they agree to allow the law of the alliance to function.”

Maxwell gritted his teeth and glared at Redwing as tribe after tribe rose to support Redwing’s motion.