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Chapter 4

The chieftain turned out to be the same imposing and wizened man the group saw earlier after the attack. He was addressed as "Joblo" as the tribals took care to make known to the group on the way to his tent. A strange name sure enough, Edward didn't care enough to ask what its significance was though.

His tent was certainly more lavish than the one that the group had the "privilege" of seeing firsthand, with extravagant carpets and ornaments lightening the dark atmosphere of the Grand Canyon that attempted to penetrate the tent.

As the two tribals dropped off their charges and then departed, the sere chieftain eyed the group with an unreadable expression. He sat at a worn looking desk strewn with maps and with a notable number of screws missing, resting his left hand on the surface.

His incentive for beckoning the group was already obvious, though it seemed that tiptoeing around it was still in order. Finally, Joblo got up from his chair and moved around his desk to make contact with the group.

His hands folded behind his back, he moved past Joshua and over behind Edward, who felt extremely invaded when he heard a loud sniffing sound from behind him that obviously originated from his host and was obviously directed towards him.

After moving past Edward and around Calhoun, he returned to his chair, as if his only reason to get up anymore was to acquire the scents of newcomers, or to investigate discordant noises. Edward quickly grew impatient with the chieftain's procrastination of the situation at hand in favor of inquisitive gazes.

"Graham, does he actually want something or does he just plan to stare at us?"

"This is a custom of the Grand Canyon tribes; he's observing your character."

Before Edward could make a remark he'd likely regret, the chieftain spoke his piece.

"Graham, what's he saying?"

Graham temporarily ignored him and had his own brief conversation with the chieftain before addressing Edward.

"He wants your knowledge, obviously. Tactics, weapons training, anything you have."

"And we get our freedom in exchange?"

Graham nodded, despite the fact that Edward was already deep in contemplation by the time he asked the question and would likely not note anything Graham did at the moment.

His mind returned to the uncertain, by some standards completely impractical possibility of a post war Roman Empire, one that would and could maintain genuine order. All great empires started somewhere though, his own "great" country in particular was a truly rags to riches story. There was no such thing as a chooser in post-apocalyptia after all, only beggars. Edward's eyes brightened, and he made direct contact with the Chieftain.

"If I help you survive, I want full command of your tribe, now and for the remainder of its existence."

Joshua was very reluctant to translate the hardy request, and instead looked unsurely at the ground, as if a solution lay somewhere in the carpet's trim. Simply being allowed to live and to eventually leave would have been a satisfactory deal considering what the group had experienced thus far; now, Edward felt confident enough to make an ultimatum. Calhoun, in even more attestation to his skepticism and distrust of Edward, was even more of an oppositionist to the demand than Graham was.

"Dammit Edward, what do you think you're doing?"

The question was not the least bit otiose; what genuine use could Edward have for a tribe whose way of life he was disdainful toward? Edward addressed him with an impatient look.

"It's none of your concern, you get to live and all we have to do is teach them to fight; isn't that enough?"

Calhoun was about to rebuke once more, but instead turned to Graham, expecting that he would express as much disapproval as him over the idea of such an imprudent demand. Instead, Graham steeled himself, looked up from the ground to the Chieftain, and translated Edward's brazen words.

The Chieftain's stoic facial expression didn't change in the least at the request; he merely glanced down at his desk for a moment. It did make some sense though; this was a man who, without a doubt, had seen years of infighting and famine, he didn't get to where he was without maintaining a composed exterior, despite what may have been going on inside his head.

What he also no doubt needed to take into consideration though was that his tribe was, at least at the moment, faltering under his rule. Perhaps the tribe had, at one point, prospered to an extent possible for a post-apocalyptic community. If these days existed did exist though, they were long gone. If someone who was clearly more adept than him wanted control, what could truly go wrong from it?

The tribe could already barely eat, they were on the losing side of a war, and they had no ambitions other than survival. Standing before him was an intelligent and realistic young man with many years still ahead of him, skilled and knowledgeable in the ways of war, and clearly eager to work the tribe from the bottom back to at least the middle; would he find a more ideal heir at his age?

There was, of course, the fact that Edward was no tribal; these tribes were so mired in tradition that most would no doubt take issue and stir controversy with the idea of appointing an outsider as acting Chieftain. Edward's overall competence and charismatic personality would, hopefully, overshadow this factor though.

Edward could see the conflict in the Chieftain's face, despite his efforts to keep it hidden; he must have led this tribe for years, oversaw it, tried to help feed it and protect it the best he could, loved it like a child even. On the other hand, the tribe had probably seen much better days, but even a man who can't adequately take care of his children will be hesitant to hand them over to someone who can.

Something that Edward was also forced to take into account was that, regardless of Joblo's obvious love for his tribe, this man was no weakling, no soft hearted old man; this was someone who had six men beaten senseless just to instill a hard work ethic in his prisoners. Edward wouldn't admit it openly, but he almost respected the Chieftain for the idea; he'd have to remember that concept.

With as much dignity and pride as he was able to muster at the emotive moment, Joblo stood up, his hands pressed hard against the desk for physical support, and gave a stern nod. Edward might have felt sympathy for the difficult decision the Chieftain just had to make, he was too busy evaluating what needed to be done now that he was acting leader of the tribe to even care though.

As Edward was about to bark orders to the person who he thought had just basically become his right hand man, the seemingly abased Chieftain spoke a jumble of words, in a tone clearly establishing that he meant business, and that he was still feeling very dominant. The newfound self-assuredness of the Chieftain served to be slightly troubling to Edward, who pressed Joshua for a translation.

"Graham, what's he saying? He sounds a bit too…assertive for someone who just relinquished power."

"He wants you to attain a victory against his enemies first before you take charge, to further prove your ability and competence in leadership."

The idea certainly didn't please Edward; he had already proven that he knew more about the tribe's weapons than each of them combined, and they wanted him to personally lead them to military victory as well? The Chieftain's continued confidence in his rule was an obstacle to Edward's plans; he would have to make some significant amendments for them to still be viable.

Regardless, the irritated Edward gave an obligatory nod to confirm that the proposition was acceptable, but only after rolling his eyes in insolence. He looked to Graham once more, his aggravation still prevalent all over his face.

"Ask him what the entire situation is."

Edward's deduction slightly before the attack turned out to be completely correct; the tribe was indeed incapable of hunting that which they typically sustained themselves on, and they thought they could ransom the group for caps to fund their war against their enemy.

What Edward hadn't realized, however, was that they weren't just playing war with one tribe; they were fighting against seven. They certainly weren't more focused or organized than the Blackfoots, but combined they outnumbered the tribe fivefold, and Edward had already seen that they had weaponry capable of outmatching their rifles.

It was certainly a quagmire; Edward's plan would have been fulfilled much quicker had he only had to conquer one tribe. Regardless, the situation wasn't irremediable, just not even close to effortless. He had confidence in his knowledge, his intellect, and his charisma, and he knew from his studies that fortune frequently favored the bold.

After the situation was fully explained, the Chieftain was obviously expecting a solution or plan from Edward, as indicated by his folded hands and steady gaze. Edward already had plans in his head, but only chose to give a brief description.

"I'll train your men the best I can, and I'll need to see you in action so I can evaluate your strengths and weaknesses, I didn't directly see the last battle. I also need a brief description of each of the tribes, weakest and strongest."

The three most immediate tribes in the area near the Blackfoot Camp were the Ridgers, the Kaibabs, and the Fredonians, their overall strength increased in that order. From what the Blackfoots scouts gathered, the three maintained a sort of trading relationship; the Ridgers provided vegetation, meat, and water, the Kaibabs provided medicine, mostly derived from herbs and plants in the area, and the Fredonians provided weaponry and ammunition, where they got a steady source of ammunition and weapons was currently unknown.

Considering the fact that these other tribes had access to these things but were still as backward as the Blackfoots, Edward gained a meager amount of respect for the tribe, even if their survival was just by the skin of their teeth at this point. Edward could already see that the Blackfoots were more efficient scouts than fighters; this could be advantageous if played correctly.

He also learned the attacks came routinely around every five hours, but they typically subsided for a time every four or so raids so the other tribes could rest and rearm. The fact that the attacks came so periodically and predictably almost implied that the other tribes were toying with the Blackfoots at this point. The group that attacked the last time was most likely the Fredonians, as indicated by their superior weaponry and general efficiency with them. Edward's respect for the tribe dropped once more when he was told there were only two of them, the fact that they also carried Light Machine Guns was irrelevant to him.

The group was captured six hours ago, the attack came a bit over four and a half hours ago, so Edward was fortunate enough to not be forced to stand around waiting to observe the tribe's combat abilities firsthand, he would get a demonstration soon enough. There would be no time to train the tribe's warriors in between to put up an actual fight, but seeing their raw combat abilities would grant him further insight into the situation.

Edward, Graham, Calhoun, Joblo and his bodyguard all proceeded up a small path near the back of the camp. The camp itself was nestled into the Canyon with nothing to its back and sides but mountain. Its location was a benefit and a drawback; it was a defensible enough location that offered only one way for attackers to come, but it also offered no way out for the Blackfoots if the camp was overrun.

The camp almost looked beautiful being bathed in pale moonlight reflecting off of torches that illuminated the camp throughout the night; the ostensible beauty was undermined by inexperienced tribals scurrying about preparing for battle though.

Edward knew the tribals weren't necessarily adept at combat, but the fact that the path offered an unblocked view of the only entrance should have automatically implied an opportunity for snipers. Edward watched as the tribals began to mass near the entrance in anticipation of the attack, their first mistake was standing out practically in the open; they could have crouched or gone prone to improve accuracy and decrease their enemy's. Instead, they just leaned against the opening in their fence, making no effort to obscure themselves. Edward thought to mention this, but the attack was likely to come any moment, they started to come with greater frequency according to Joblo.

Dawn was approaching; Edward only just realized how tired he was, when did these people get sleep? No doubt most of them were forced to be perpetually awake to do their jobs, but one of their greatest detriments at this point may have simply been exhaustion, which was fixable enough.

The group reached the apex of the path, and prepared to oversee the soon to come battle. Joblo's bodyguard, who was also the same tribal who escorted the group to the medical tent, handed Edward a pair of binoculars to better supervise the preparations. He already saw what he needed to see, but they would be useful for when the battle actually began. Joblo was keeping an eye on Edward, and a hand on his 9mm pistol. Joblo saw blind and youthful ambition in his eyes the moment he met him; such drive often allowed for unpredictable actions.

Soon after reaching the summit, gunshots rang throughout the camp once more; the group was far enough away to be safe from the fighting, but automatic weapon fire once again tore through the tribe's warriors at the entrance. Edward looked through his newly acquired binoculars and saw that the attack force consisted of, from what he could see, four men with assault rifles, all taking cover by sturdy trees that lined the path to the camp gates.

These trees that were providing cover for their enemies could have been removed somehow, certainly with less inconvenience than the casualties that they were forced to endure over them. Was this truly an unviable solution from the tribe's perspective?

Several of the Blackfoot warriors had enough sense to know that remaining at the entrance would make them open targets, but their reaction of attempting to rush outside the camp to meet their attackers head on was particularly asinine and was met with hasty death for at least one more of their warriors.

The attack eventually subsided, and the four attackers were killed, but Edward counted more four dead and four wounded among the warriors. The only intelligent move he'd seen the Blackfoots make so far was going to retrieve their enemies' weapons and ammo after the battle, other than that their performance was subpar.

This was a distressing situation, they were losing vital warriors by the day and had no way to replace them; not everyone in the tribe was capable of being a fighter, after all. Regardless, it was also a situation that required Edward to be focused and rejuvenated, both of which he was far from at the moment.

Demandingly, Edward's first words after the battle were "I need sleep."

Graham translated Edward's demand, in response to which the Chieftain looked quizzically at Edward, obviously of the opinion that his tribe's survival was of far more importance at the moment than creature comforts.

"You've kept us up all night, what do you expect? I need to be focused and rested if I'm going to help train your so called "warriors", and I'm not focused and rested right now. That was the last raid in the cycle, right? That means you have about another day until the next one. Once I'm ready your warriors will be so adept they'll make your enemies turn tail and run every time they see you, but right now, .SLEEP."

The Chieftain relented after some slight persuasion, and directed his bodyguard to assign them each tents. Before going with the hulking tribal, Edward recalled that Calhoun hadn't said anything since far before the battle, and made forced conversation to confirm his loyalties.

"I know you don't like what's happening here, I'm not forcing you to stay if you think you can get out of the Canyon on your own."

The undertone of condescension in the statement was unnecessary, as Calhoun already hadn't planned on leaving any time soon anyway.

"I'm not going to leave our fellow Followers in a state like that, and I'm sure these plans of yours will get more people hurt. I can do some good here, what you choose to do is out of my hands I suppose."

Of course, Calhoun was correct. There was no talking Edward out of something when he had it in his head that he would do it. Edward was actually pleased that he was remaining on hand since people would, of course, continue to be wounded, and his medical expertise would be instrumental in maintaining the tribe's numbers.

Joshua was set up in one of the tents near the central area of the camp. It wasn't competition to the extravagance of the Chieftain's tent, of course, but it was better than being tied up. He briefly considered simply leaving, but there would no doubt be guards on the gates. Instead, he continued to search for guidance in his Bible.

Graham suddenly heard something shuffling about outside of his tent, and felt himself becoming very alarmed, as if one of the tribes had infiltrated the camp and began to systematically murder the Blackfoots in their sleep. His apprehension was put to ease when he heard a voice say "Graham". After all, there could only be one person who was bold enough to continually address a person by his last name, especially without even knowing him very well.

A slightly refreshed looking Edward moved into the tent after announcing himself, and sat down in a chair to the right of Graham's bed.

"Hello Edward. Not completely exhausted, it seems."

"Yes, well, I felt that we should talk about the situation. First off, I wanted to apologize for the way I've treated you so far, you've been nothing but useful to me. I'm aware that I can be…overbearing."

"Overbearing" was certainly an understatement, but it was commendable that Edward was able to scrounge up enough humility to apologize for his flippancy. Then again, he also made it about himself when he started talking about the extent of Joshua's usefulness to him.

"I hate the sin and love the sinner, Edward; I hold no grudge against you. Was there something else that you wanted?"

The question was asked perfunctorily, since Edward obviously wasn't just here out of the kindness of his heart.

"Yes, there was…something that I wanted to discuss."

Edward reflected for a moment, most likely thinking up a way to organize his thoughts in a presentable way that Graham could sympathize with.

"These tribes…they're so stunted, so unfocused, senselessly violent. All they want to do is raid; kill each other, no long term goals, no higher purpose."

Graham couldn't deny the validity of the statement, but Edward's intentions with it were uncertain to him.

"I heard your story that you told Calhoun, I know that you've seen firsthand what happens when people are destitute, and here we are witnessing it once more."

There it was; it's how he would cajole Graham into seeing things from his perspective. Graham hated that it was working.

"Now what if that could be changed? What if there was a way to pacify these tribes? To provide for them and protect them in exchange for nothing but hard work and loyalty?"

Graham's interest was piqued ever so slightly, but Edward was still being very vague.

"I won't lie, it wouldn't be pretty for a while, in fact it would most likely be worse than what's happening now. You don't have to do anything right now; I'd just like your attention."

If nothing else, Edward could be very persuasive and charming when he wanted something from someone. Graham couldn't deny that he agreed with most of what he said, but he was also implying that more violence was necessary to pacify the current violence. It wouldn't be something that his family or his religion would look kindly upon, but that didn't make it automatically incorrect. He wasn't certain yet of what he'd do, but it couldn't be truly harmful just to hear him out.

"Very well, I'm listening."