Valour of the Spirit People

by David Papa-Adams

  Chapter XVI

  Red Snake

  Michael gazed out across the arid territories of Turtle Island and breathed out a heavy sigh. They had left the Angry Mud Flats and proceeded by hidden paths to the Dry Lands; what appeared outwardly as a desolate landscape stretched hungrily in every direction and after their long trek as they approached that barren place it felt as though it drew in its breath. The weather had changed markedly: gone now were the cold winds and harsher climate. While the main force had briefly stopped to rest and refresh themselves, Michael had led a small scouting party ahead, to be sure that no threats waited for them when they had entered what might become the most treacherous part of their journey, and finding the way clear he stopped to send word back for the main host to come forward.

  “Once across these lands,” said Michael, whose face had wearied through many hard leagues, “we will join with Rafael and the Ute.”

  Gabriel bent down to pick up some dry earth and rubbed it in his hot swollen hands, “Or what’s left of them.”

  “You know Rafael - he will protect them well enough,” said Michael quietly.

  “Yes, and he will certainly have taught them to defend themselves the way we have taught all these nations.”

  Gabriel shaded his eyes from the sun, “And he will have protected them from the machinations of Haldrago and you know what that means.”

  “It means after the Battle of the Green Wood they will know that not only are the Angelos here but…..”

  “But the highest of us are here,” replied Gabriel.

  “Which means there can be no mistake in our underestimating what’s going on here." said Michael, "We must arrive ready for battle, that in our annals might seem a minor skirmish, but still it may have major consequences for the war. And if I know Haldrago, he’ll be thirsting for revenge for the defeat suffered in the Green Wood.”

  “I do not think that will be a problem,” replied Gabriel. “Uziel has successfully altered their Chakras. Such power should last them through the battle to come before it diminishes and they revert back to normality.”

  Black Buffalo had been listening quietly. “As Shaman to my people and more so now that my true self is returning to me, I know many things.”

  “You’re asking yourself what exactly are we talking about?” said Michael. “You know that when you go on a Vision Quest something happens to you.”

  “Yes of course I feel one with all things,” replied Black Buffalo, “I feel the power of Great Spirit, the power of all my Ancestors.”

  “That is what Uziel did,” said Michael. “He simply altered the device that your ancestor the first Watcher had passed down to you so that he could use it to give you and the rest of the First People more power from Great Spirit.”

  Black Buffalo stared sullenly ahead, his eyes full of past battles, “Will it be enough to defeat the enemy?”

  Michael studied him a moment, for the first time he noticed uncertainty in those eyes that were old before their time. His creased brow had become heavy with concerns and for once his stoic exterior appeared open for all to see.

  “Though we have asked your people to carry this terrible burden, what Uziel has done will be enough, my friend, to make it an even battle,” said Michael. “Take courage; remember the Sky People are against the fabric of war, as it is chaos without end.”

  “For a people,” replied Black Buffalo, “who do not want war you certainly seem to be cloaked by it.”

  “This is nothing in comparison to what would happen if the power of the Codexes are unleashed by malevolent hands as Pestilence was. And in time you will understand their true nature.”

  “Are they a tool that any can use?”

  “No, the Angelos as their creators have the ability to use them, so too the Watchers who also crafted many and are their guardians, and a few other Nations perhaps; more importantly they are no mere tool. They are harmony and discord, beauty and repugnance; they are constant and erratic - they are both good and evil.”

  “Why did you create such things?”

  “To maintain the Equilibrium of life; so that we could be bound more closely to the Way. They were created as all things are out of our love.”

  “If that is the case why can they be used in such a grotesque manner?”

  “Because Watcher unless you are always watchful, love can so easily become confusing: tormenting, obsessive, and worst of all, hateful.”

  Black Buffalo stood statuesque in the morning light; soft beads of sweat glistening as though he wore a crown of silver. “Let us hope then that the Codex Raphael is holding is not one of the four. Especially let us hope it is not War?”

  Michael gazed at Black Buffalo and nodded. “War was hidden at the beginning so that none might find it and we were right to do that, or as big as this Universe is it might have been destroyed. War is more than willing to spread its intent, infecting and corrupting or sterilising the most innocent of peoples; that is why it is to be so feared because all that go to war do so with this idea in mind. That it is right to do so.”

  Black Buffalo raised an eyebrow. “But you went to war?”

  “No,” replied Michael, “it was forced upon us. We did not go to war; war came to us.”

  “And what of Pestilence,” said Black Buffalo, “why was that not hidden then?”

  “We thought we could contain it,” said Michael.

  “Surely you did not believe that?” gasped Black Buffalo, “After all; I heard you say that Pestilence was one of the great four.”

  “Yes,” said Gabriel carefully, “but with Pestilence we could always limit its power and the damage it caused, as what affects one creature seldom affects another in the same way; the Chakra of that Codex works in isolation of other things, unlike War that increases its virulence and magnifies its effect uncontrollably as it spreads. And Pestilence was taken by the enemy’s deceit. War like Death was hidden, the consequence of the use of Pestilence led to the abomination that is the Wold.”

  “Could it be then that Raphael has with him that which should remain hidden?”

  “That is why we need to hurry,” said Michael thoughtfully, “If it is War or Death then we must do everything to prevent either of them from falling into the hands of the enemy.”

  “We,” said Gabriel calmly, “understand that the Dragon has been after both War and Death for a many an age. If he succeeds he will be in a position to seduce more peoples to his cause the way he did the Mages and the Wold. In effect The Equilibrium will be altered and he may gain the ascendancy.”

  “That is a worry indeed.” Black Buffalo appeared sterner than ever.

  “As we’ve said it’s been a long war.” responded Michael, “The Dragon knows he cannot hope to win - all he can hope to achieve is to prolong the time of his defeat; and his lie will remain just that no matter how many believe it. The truth that is the Way of Great Spirit will always be the truth.”

  “For someone who cannot win he certainly gives a good example of someone who believes he can.” Black Buffalo turned as there was a low shuffling sound in the distance, the Great Host they had been waiting for had finally arrived, “Perhaps he is blind to the Way of Great Spirit. And now like any that cannot see, he walks in the darkness of his own mind and does not know that it is his blindness that makes him stumble, as he finds more comfort in the blaming of that which he has fallen over; his obstruction, rather than his own foolhardiness.”

  Michael mulled over the words of Black Buffalo as his mind turned toward the dry lands; a hazy glow stared back at him which no doubt held its own threat. The scene was so much like the arid deserts of Phobus where he had walked into a well prepared trap. They had not expected anything from that world where civilisation had not begun and would not for millions of years to come. And though there was life it was limited to the one mega-ocean; nothing yet had ventured on land. How could they have known that when they had received a communication that the Codex that held death was there, that the message was
treacherous and had been sent by Lothos through his spies? If it had not been for the legions of Maalik arriving just in time that day they would have surely tasted defeat. He quietly smiled to himself: this time it would be Lothos that would be trapped and so too the Dragon and many of his acolytes.

  In the distance they could hear a low rumble. A veil of dust approached them; it was the arrival of the First People. Line upon line of strong buckskin covered warriors with the light gleaming off their smooth spear heads. Tomahawks and daggers hung at their sides and strapped across their backs were ornately decorated shields; many came with long arrow shafts with multi-coloured feathered flights and long bows.

  Gabriel could see many tired, stern faces. “White Eagle says they’re ready for the crossing of the dry lands.”

  “Did he mention how long it would take us to cross?” Michael asked.

  “It will not be long before we reach the Ute but who knows what we’ll find when we get there.”

  “Any word on the party led by Black Elk?”

  “Nothing and I don’t expect to hear anything either. The only time we’ll know whether they were successful is when we arrive at the Mountain that stands alone. Only then will we be able to tell whether they fulfilled their task.”

  White Eagle, tall and proud, as ever came forward between the ranks of the First People, unwavering as if he were ready to do battle at that very moment.

  “We will be moving by way of the blood road,” said White Eagle, “it will take us dangerously through the pass of Red Snake; and once there we will have to tread with care.”

  “Really,” asked Michael, “why don’t I feel comforted by that name? And I have not heard of this Red Snake: what nation does he belong to?”

  “Not a nation - a Manitou, so we must be wary.”

  “Doesn’t sound very friendly! Is there any other way around?” asked Uziel.

  “He is neither friend nor foe. He just is. And there is no other way - he lives by the only water hole through the dry lands.”

  “Ah,” said Gabriel, “in that case lead away.”

  “I suppose,” said Uziel, “we don’t have to guess at what type of Manitou it is.”

  “It is a dog,” replied White Eagle.

  “You’re joking?” queried Uziel.

  “Yes I am,” responded White Eagle. “It is the fiercest and mightiest of snakes, in length far larger than a man, or three men for that matter. Its scales are as hard as any shield, and it can strike so fast that you wouldn’t even know you were dead.”

  “Okay, so that’s the good news. What’s the worst it can do?”

  “Oh, much more,” said White Eagle. “It can crush you to pulp or devour you while still living.”

  “How do you know all this?” asked Uziel, “I don’t suppose any have survived an encounter with this creature.”

  “In a Vision Quest,” said White Eagle. “One of our children had been bitten by a snake and so we sought out the advice of our ancestors to see if he could be healed. They told us much law regarding Serpents and they spoke of Red Snakes powers especially; unfortunately by the time we had finished the Quest it was too late to save the boy.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” replied Uziel. “I truly am.”

  White Eagle nodded imperceptibly, his stoic exterior became yet harder. He lifted his spear above his head. Feathers bristled along the shaft as he waved it in the air and swung it round in a circular pattern, signalling for them to advance. Uziel stood a moment watching him. Black Buffalo quietly reached out and took him by the arm, drawing him closer.

  “It was his son that was lost,” said Black Buffalo to Uziel’s astonishment. “Come. There are only a few days between us and the Ute.”

  The more forgiving earth and warmer air made going easier, many that travelled did so with masterly confidence as they moved swiftly for such a large host. There was room enough for all to move freely. The First People, thousands strong, sinews stretched to their limit, remained unbowed. And what was more they joked among themselves, humour being a key part of expressing their strength and bravery. It was as though they were out hunting buffalo or a great fearsome bear. In their minds that is how they perceived Haldrago, Lothos and most of all The Dragon. Runners were sent out throughout the day and returned with nothing untoward to report. As the light began to fail it was decided that travelling beyond dusk would be too treacherous. Black Buffalo knew of a secure gully, a place he had once journeyed to; to be with his ancestors they could light fires there which would be lost beneath overhanging walls. They could eat and rest in that ravine which led into Red Snake pass and was the only safe point before they reached it. It did not take them long once they had arrived to settle. Fortunately they had collected kindling and wood during their long march west. Fires were lit producing shadows that cast spectres into the night given life by zealous flames. There was a strange silence about the place; it was as if it had remained untouched by man since the beginning of time.

  Black Buffalo took Michael and Gabriel to a small alcove; on the wall were some hand crafted paintings. They stared at them in the torch light their curiosity aroused by the strange shapes.

  “That looks vaguely familiar,” said Gabriel.

  “There’s nothing vague about it,” replied Michael, reaching out to touch one of the drawings as if it might reveal itself further. “It’s a portal alright – look, the person enters it here and suddenly on the other side the picture alters. Over here there are bison, elk and that has to be a mammoth - and on that side there are three, four, five storey buildings. It could be an impression of a city. And look at that insignia! It’s the mark of the Dragon.”

  “Do you think…” said Gabriel.

  “I don’t have to spend time thinking about it,” replied Michael, “somewhere here there’s a portal, or was, and the Dragon knows it. Perhaps they came here in secret long ago and laid their plans.”

  “Maybe,” said Gabriel, “or they may only have made the journey recently in the hope of altering the outcome here, and by doing so have set in motion the events occurring now. Our arrival at this time may have upset the balance of what they were trying to achieve.”

  “That’s only if he travelled back before our arrival. What if he made the changes afterwards?” whispered Michael, now disturbed by the sight before him.

  “I do not believe so. If that had occurred then when we entered the portal we would have been sent to that time first by the power of the Way so that the Equilibrium could be maintained. Instead we’ve come here.”

  “And if he has finally distorted the Equilibrium then the Way would have been affected and the balance altered without our knowing it. Still, we will not know the answer to such a question until we reach the Ute.”

  “The Watcher,” said Gabriel, “might know, are they not able to see things that others are blind to? Tell us Black Buffalo do you sense a change in the Equilibrium?”

  “I feel that things are proceeding the way they should.”

  “Well that’s a lot of help,” said Michael. “Any modifications would have been made subtly so long ago that surely things are proceeding the way they should whether they have been altered or not.”

  “Well I've seen nothing here that changes anything,” replied Gabriel, “so whatever we come up against later, we will have to keep in mind the fact that we may have to rectify any adjustments to the time line.”

  “I do not think that will be necessary,” said Black Buffalo, “I believe that that could be a future event rather than a past one.” They looked at him curiously. “It is something I just know.”

  Michael’s eyes glistened in the torchlight as he faced Black Buffalo. “Well, Watcher, since we follow the one true timeline and since I do not believe your senses deceive you, then if it is a sign of a future event that takes place in the past then perhaps it is one that we should prevent from happening.”

  They moved back to rest by one of the fires and eat. The crackle and fizzle of burning embers
gave a kindly warmth they had not felt from the time they had left the Angry Mud Flats. Black Buffalo lost himself in the flames; he tapped a small stone on the ground as if some confine of the mind held him before casting it into the heart of the fire.

  “You seem disturbed, Watcher,” said Michael quietly.

  “I am,” replied Black Buffalo. “I cannot understand why such as the Dragon has chosen to become what he is. Why would someone who is undoubtedly wise and who had everything give it up?”

  “He did not truly understand what he had,” replied Michael sadly, “and so he wanted more of what he didn’t have. You see he was first in many things and loved by many of the Sky People; he was thought a prince among us and treated as one, and through that his pride grew until instead of thinking how blessed he was; he thought himself blessed above all others.”

  “Could nothing have been done to save him from himself?” asked Black Buffalo.

  “Maybe a long time ago there was a possibility and maybe there will be again in the future,” replied Michael, “but at this time he believes too much in the right of what he does and not the wrong of what he’s done. After all he believes his way should be The Way.” Michael shook his head dejectedly, “The more war raged the more his way became entrenched until what mattered to him was the War and the winning of it no matter at what cost. And for that reason he has proven a stubborn adversary, where others would and should have sought peace he refused.”

  “But if we gain the Codex,” said Black Buffalo, “and if he is close to defeat, surely then he will surrender himself.”

  “He would still continue the fight, even though all his armies were destroyed and he was on his own; in his thirst for vengeance and in his misguided beliefs he would think it right to destroy the entire universe if necessary. This war only ends with his ruin or his salvation,” said Michael.

  “And if he is beaten will his servants not continue the fight? If they believe so strongly in him, I mean.” Black Buffalo leant back, head resting on his hands.

  “It is hoped they will come to their senses and seek peace. It is just a shame that they do not seek peace the way they seek war.”

  Black Buffalo shuffled onto his side. He could tell that talk of their tragic past had affected Michael deeply, “Tomorrow we enter Red Snake Pass. Perhaps it is best to concentrate on the danger at hand and not think of what might have been or what will be, but rather what is.”

  Red Snake Pass, Michael mulled over the words, soon they would discover just what held the Spirit People in such awe. Gabriel was breathing softly by his side; his eyes were open and yet he slept soundly. He did not see the scorpion that raced across by the edge of the fire, pause a moment by his leg, turning one way then the other before edging its way slowly up his side to his midriff. There it stopped and began clambering up and over his body before scurrying quickly off into the refuge of the dark. Gabriel remained motionless and softly half smiled to himself as though he knew that there had been no real threat to his person. Michael had watched the scene, unperturbed by the little creature - after all it had exhibited no signs of aggression and was probably just making its way home. It would have been wrong to react harshly to such a thing when they were the ones invading its territory.

  The next day, after they had had their victuals and just as the morning shadow crept into the ravine, the many fathers of the first nations gathered together for a council meeting; they handed round the sacred pipe and talking stick and spoke of the road they had to take. It was decided that for them to move unnoticed and undisturbed through Red Snake Pass they would have to split up into small parties, and at different times of the rising sun make their way into and out of the gorge. Though most of the day would be lost, at least by the end of it they would have all made their way safely to the other side.

  Throughout the day the gully emptied, until as the sun approached the horizon it was time for Michael and the party he led to make their way through the pass. So far, it had gone well. Eagle Feather waited patiently with no hint of any apprehension: his shoulders were as broad as ever, his head held high, his eyes determined. Michael had chosen to go last as the waiting often overturned minds less disciplined than his. The First People had moved calmly enough, they had not shown fear in the face of terror. In fact they had appeared to accept whatever fate awaited them. He had watched as row upon row had made the trek through Snake Pass and had thought what a remarkable people these were. He smiled to himself, did they know or guess that the fate of the Universe could be in their hands? By the end he would need all their courage, their fortitude, their faith in Great Spirit.

  The sun had reached the horizon by the time he entered Red Snake Pass. Michael stood studying the thin narrow corridor that led into it. They had been fortunate up to that point, as Red Snake slept during the waking hours of the day and so it was that the many nations of the First People had passed unhindered and had made it safely across, but now as the shadows grew long it was Michael’s turn.

  “Do we wait?” asked Eagle Feather

  “We cannot afford to,” replied Michael. “We must proceed, it is the only way.”

  “So be it,” said Eagle Feather. “Then if we are to go, let us at least do so while the little light that there is, remains.”

  Michael immediately set off at a run, quickly followed by a party of a few hundred robust warriors, the best of each nation and all were ready to face Red Snake. Red Snake Pass weaved its way for many leagues, undulating with peaks and troughs. A river dissected it that in places ran deep, and in others was easily passable. There were bushes along the shore and reeds hanging above the water; easy cover for any that needed it, but worse still there were many caves that littered the ravine and in the poor light they were transformed into dark threatening voids. They did not dare light torches and soon they were surrounded by the pitch of a deepening abyss. Now, thought Michael, such a creature as Red Snake would make itself known. Stars broke through clouds that were chased away by their silvery light, but it was not until the moon rose over the ridge that they could see sufficiently to pick up the pace, and still there was no sign of the creature. Their passing was like a soft breeze, and so light were their steps you could only be a Manitou to know that something moved at all. A cool gleam bounced off the river giving them a path to follow.

  “How far to go?” Michael whispered, his eyes sharp enough to pierce the dark.

  “Not long,” answered Eagle Feather, “But…” his voice faltered.

  “What’s wrong?” Michael instinctively turned to him.

  “We’re being watched,” said Eagle Feather. “I have felt its eyes upon us since the last bend in the river.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Michael.

  Eagle Feather said nothing, but even in the dark Michael felt a strange certainty behind his words. He stretched out a hand and gestured for Eagle Feather and Red Deer to ready their spears and slow so that the rest of the party could pass them. Michael pulled one of the Elders towards him; Black Feather was his name, and explained to him what he needed done. Black Feather nodded, his eyes glinting in the dark, while his smile remained unseen. They soon would approach the end of the pass and Michael was sure it would be there that Red Snake would make his presence felt. As he with Eagle Feather and Red Deer at his side dropped further behind, the gap between them and the main group widened - a gap that held ravenous eyes captive. Something toiled in the dark, something that had looked on the intrusion to its domain with growing fury. It had been waiting for an opportunity to present itself, one that could give it ample prospect with which to appease and mollify its anger. Now was the time ripe for striking; and so in the dark a creature stole out of a cave and carefully slipped across the river. Hidden by the cloak of night it silently slithered through deep lying reeds which offered but a brief obstruction and moved between the two groups of invaders before readying itself.

  It moved unseen toward three motionless silhouetted figures. Now surely was the time to strike. Its
body coiled, ready to burst upon its enemy and then it struck. It bit and tore at hide, but there was nothing beneath the buckskin tunic – that simply hung on a spear which was covered by a headdress. Red Snake whipped round, smashing its tail into the two other figures that collapsed to the ground without effort. It let out a seething hissing as though a cauldron were boiling over.

  Then there were flames behind it - bright intense burning shafts of light that dissected the canyon and even set the reeds in the river alight. Red Snake had been duped. On the other side of the flames Michael stood watching the creature. He could make out the large snake filled with impotent anger. Now that all the nations of the First People had made their escape, with a wry smile Michael also turned and fled. Waiting for him as he left Red Snake Pass was Uziel and Eagle Feather; they greeted each other silently, relieved that their passage through the hazardous dominion of so bitter a creature had been achieved without loss. Then the three thankfully raced away, they were on the final part of their journey and it was hoped that nothing would prevent them from reaching the Ute in the Great Basin.