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Chapter 81

A Horse With No Name

"I'm taking hold of every moment
Given strength by the breath of life
I'm gonna stake my claim
I fight to survive"

– Fight To Survive by Stan Bush

The month of November brought bitterness of the wind around the lands, much darker evenings, colder nights, and barer trees, which had shed all their colourful leaves. The landscape slept, enveloped in mist from morning till noon. And whenever the sun looked through the clouds, it was beamless and pale as the dimmed moonlight. The winds got stronger – rougher and wild, the birds had ceased singing their sweet songs. The grass had lost its fresh, emerald look and was instead replaced by blandish browns. Each morning, the land was covered with white frost, prophesying of the coming winter and snow. It was easy to fall into melancholy by observing the change in nature. Going from rich, vibrant colours to empty grey and brownish colours had a potential of making everything seem depressing. The desolate, almost deserted trees, the faded earth, the heavy sky, the naked world of nature, before the arrival of snow. But for the Plains Indians these seasonal patterns where vital for their war campaigns. As avid horsemen, the Plains warriors relied greatly upon their four-legged companions during battle. Because of their dependence on horses, the Renegades often fought in the spring and summer months when their warrior steeds were stronger from eating the bountiful grass. However, once the cold approached, the food became scarce for not only the horses, but also for their humans as well. Winter blizzards would force the Plains Indians to seek refuge near river valleys and cease the warfare activities until spring returned to the lands. Or at least, minimize it as much as possible.

With their war camp located miles and miles away from civilization, including other tribal villages, Sitting Bull and Chief Gall decided to temporarily stop their attacks on the U.S army in fear of running out of supplies in the cold winter months. A slower, more cautious season had arrived for the Renegades and they would use the interim peace to get stronger by developing an organized battalions, each one led by warlords whom they had appointed. These were the months to acquire more skill, create a better defence and sharpen their battle tactics. The slow season of the coming winter was mostly spent in preforming battle exercises and regular hunting.

For the most part, Spirit found himself enjoying practising with Little Creek, who was now better known among the warriors as Crazy Horse. Even though he wasn't all too excited about having to carry him on his back, he did however, find amusement in the groundwork they did. Thankfully, Little Creek was so good at reading his mind that he never subjected Spirit to hunting. He knew how strangely unacceptable it would be for a wild Mustang to help chase and catch another free-roaming animal. And while Spirit loved spending time with his human friend, there was a tiny part of him that kept tugging at his heart. "Your place isn't here...you don't belong among humans." The little voice inside his head would repeat this to him almost everyday. In fact, it probably didn't help that his winged companion would regularly visit him only to cry out that his place was in the untamed wilderness where he could truly embrace freedom.

As for Misty and Rain, more or less, after the incident in the round pen, the two mares had slowly become civil. Perhaps, they weren't the best of friends, but Spirit had reached his goal of getting them to stop hating each other and that's all that mattered for now. This was the first step. It was no longer unusual to see them standing together while keeping a close eye on their playful sons. Both Wanbli and Dusty were growing up all too fast. Their legs were getting longer, they were growing taller, more talkative and outgoing. The Mustang blood which surged in the youngsters' veins pushed them more and more towards the wild, but their mothers were quick to remind them that being a wild horse was not an option when living amongst humans.

"Even your father is trying to keep his...uh, wild streak...in check and so must you." Rain would gently caution them, trying to put things delicately for the little ones.

But Misty was always ready to offer snarky remarks. "Wild streak? Is that a new term for cocky show-offs?"

One gloomy, late afternoon Rain discovered Spirit standing alone by a tall naked tree; the air smelled like winter, the wind whipped the branches into a frenzy, including their manes and tails which billowed like banners against the dull weather. Hearing the familiar, dainty hoofbeats of the mare who never failed to make his heart flutter, Spirit turned to face her with a cheeky grin lighting his handsome expression. Rain recognized the look he gave her and raised one of her eyebrows with an equally flirty smirk.

"Got something on your mind that you'd like to share?" She inquired in a teasing fashion, her voice silky as she walked closer to him.

Spirit greeted her with a soft caress on the neck and then shook his head with a light-hearted chuckle. "These humans, ha?"

"What about them?" Rain asked, her blue orbs sparkling with playfulness.

"They get strangely interesting by the passing hour." The stallion commented as he affectionately fumbled with her silvery forelock.

Rain giggled at that, but there was also a bit of a confusion in her countenance. "What do you mean?"

"I mean their courtship. It's...um...fascinating thing to behold. A lot of touching involved."

Courtship? Rain stared at him in surprise, her ears perking up with utter curiosity. "Where did you observe that?"

"Right here."

The mare couldn't believe it. "In our war settlement? Where we have scarcely any female humans?" Rain said incredulously.

"Well, still we've got them, don't we?"

Rain nodded mindlessly at Spirit's statement. Even though it was a rarity, there were two distinguished couples in this particular Renegade encampment. "I suppose so. There's White Doe and Long Knife. It's just that they always keep to themselves. They are very private when it comes to their relationship. I never thought they'd–"

"Who?" Spirit cut in, furrowing his brows. "I'm not sure if I follow."

"I'm talking about Little Creek's friends."

Spirit blinked and stared at Rain, looking even more confused. "But I'm talking about Little Creek himself."

"What about him?" Rain asked, not quite getting where their conversation was headed.

A mischievous smile broke out on the stallion's features again. "Our boy is in love!" He announced at last.

The declaration sounded so ridiculous and unbelievable to Rain that she couldn't contain her laughter. "With us?" She joked.

"No, I'm serious. I saw him with–"

"With who?" The paint mare suddenly grew sober. "White Doe is with Long Knife." There was firmness in her utterance.

"No, not her." Spirit snorted and motioned his head towards the campfire where a young woman and a man were seated. "That female over there."

Once Rain laid her blue eyes on the woman, all blood drained from her face. Her mouth hung open and she paled, shaking her head fiercely, she gasped out. "No, no, no. That can't be right. You made a mistake!"

But Spirit insisted on what he saw. "No, I'm telling you it was her with Little Creek. They were by the river–"

"No! They weren't!" Rain snapped, raising her tone at him, coming off a little too aggressive. Spirit did not shrink away from her, but he did take a step backwards to give her space. He didn't understand why she got so upset and anxious all of a sudden. Catching her rude eruption, Rain lowered her voice and went on to explain softly. "I mean, are you sure it was them? Perhaps, their embrace was merely platonic?"

Spirit reflected about if for a moment. "Well...I'm definitely no expert in human behaviour...it could've been a friendly lip-to-lip touch." He concluded innocently, horrifying Rain even more with his last words.

"Lip-to-lip is never platonic!" The mare exclaimed.

"Rain, relax." Spirit reached out to nuzzle her cheek sweetly, still confused and taken aback by her unpredictable behaviour. "I don't know why you're getting so upset about this. Shouldn't we be happy for our friend?"

Rain shut her eyes for a brief second, taking a deep breath to steady her heartbeat before speaking up. "Black Buffalo Woman is married."

Spirit frowned, tilting his head to the side, unable to comprehend what his beautiful mare meant by that. "She has a husband!" Rain's eyes flashed in frustration. "And he is sitting right next to her." She pointed towards the warrior.

"She has a what?"

Realizing that a wild Mustang stallion like her Spirit would not be exposed to such humanized terminology or values, she decided to speak in his terms. "She has a mate. She belongs to someone else."

Spirit batted his lashes with a naivety of a young colt. "Uh...a female can always change her mind, can't she? If a stronger mate, who could protect her better than her current mate comes along and wins her, she can go with him instead...can't she?" His last phrase conveyed doubt.

"In our world yes, in theirs...no."

Spirit remained silent, his mind attempting to clumsily register what Rain had just explained to him. It all seemed so foreign.

"You see," The paint mare began, as she elaborated more on the topic. "Humans have sacred union ceremonies where two individuals are forever bound to one another in the presence of their family, friends and the Creator. If one of them breaks the sacred bond of marriage due to infidelity, they are cast out and banished from the tribe. If a warrior steals another warrior's wife, there will be vengeful consequences. No Water is a very proud man, he will never forgive Little Creek if he finds him frolicking with his wife." Rain hung her head, her voice dejected and full of disappointment. "I don't understand why he is being so irresponsible. Especially now when he has been given a new honourable name and chosen as a shirt wearer."

As Spirit listened to her speak, he was clearly starting to see why Rain had felt so betrayed and hurt by what had transpired between him and Misty. And why it was so difficult for her to get used to the wild ways of the mustang society. He gently let his chin rest upon her withers and he soothingly nickered to her. "My love...if you know all this, I'm certain Little Creek is aware of the consequences of his actions too. And besides," he gave her a playful nip on the shoulder. "if this No Water fellow cannot hold on to his woman, maybe he is not worthy of her at all?"

"That's not up to us to decide." Rain said tartly, slightly irked that Spirit was still speaking from the perspective of their own kind.

"Just like it's not up to us to discuss Little Creek's personal and private affairs." Spirit emphasized, staring meaningfully into Rain's deep blue eyes. "There's no point in worrying about this. We cannot get so caught up in their world. Humans must sort things out on their own."

Rain leaned her head against Spirit's neck, taking comfort in his protective presence as her voice trembled. "If No Water catches our friend with that woman, he will surely kill him."

The stallion looked visibly disturbed by Rain's frightening prediction, but then he clenched his jaw and sighed with sadness. "My flaxen beauty, look at me." He let his nose softly brush against Rain's chin as she lifted her glossy gaze to meet his calm, gentle eyes. "We were created to be free. Every single one of us must choose a path to tread on, but at the same time, we must be willing to accept the consequences that our choice results. Little Creek is a grown man and he must make his own decisions...even if they prove to be unwise. After all, that's how we all learn and grow." Spirit smiled, giving her a reassuring nuzzle. "Chin up, my love. It's gonna be okay."

"I love you." Rain mumbled, pushing her velvety nose in his draping mane. He always had a perfect way of making her feel safe.

"I love you too." The stallion pulled her closer in his embrace.

Whimpering with a muffled sound, Rain whinnied like a little filly. "Why is our life always full of difficult decisions?"

Spirit smiled softly at her foal-like question, as he let his eyes travel towards a tall, leaf-less tree next to them. "Have you ever noticed how beautiful a tree standing naked against the sky is? All its branches are outlined, and in its nakedness there is only a whispering song of endurance. Every leaf is gone and it patiently awaits for the arrival of spring. When the spring comes, it again fills the tree with the music of many leaves, which in due season will once again fall and blow away. This is the way of life, Rain. We cannot change it, we must learn to accept it." His eyes were bright, but not full of flaming passion that fire holds. This was the soft, wise brightness of a candlelight that fully filled ones heart. It was the brightness of the moon that beams when the night is dark and cold. Rain gazed up at him speechless, wondering if he knew just how gorgeous she found him. The wind was bitter and cool, but it wasn't the swift element that took her breath away.

"It's gettin' a little too chilly for my taste... warm me up?" Spirit suggested with a naughty grin, pressing his forehead against her neck.

Rain friskily grabbed his dark forelock. "You are not a convincing liar..." She huddled to him, inching for his warmth as they stood against the strong winds that had gathered.

"Ugh, you two!" A familiar irksome voice interrupted the couple's affectionate moment. "I swear, you even make our own kind nauseous." Misty laughed, causing Spirit to roll his eyes while Rain let out a sharp exhale. "Oh, but don't stop on my account..." The black mare continued, purring with a teasing gleam in her sly expression as she eyed them. "...it's nothing I haven't seen or done before."

"And now I feel nauseous." Rain muttered under her breath.

"Can we help you?" Spirit inquired in distaste.

Misty pretended to look oblivious as she kept messing with them. "I'm sorry, did I interrupt something important here?"

Two different, but simultaneous answers came from the couple. Spirit threw in right away "Yes!" But Rain instantly said "No!"

"That's not good." Misty cackled, quite entertained at the opposing exclamations she received. "You both need to get your stories alined."

Spirit inwardly groaned, rolling his eyes at her again, while Rain cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Did you want anything?"

"I did." The black mare nodded. "I came here to give you a friendly reminder that before you consider producing new foals..." She curled her upper lip apprehensively at Spirit. "...you should pay attention the one you already have. Because guess what? I'm not going to be your personal foal-sitter."

"Wanbli and Dusty are both with Great Conquest." Spirit said, not bothering to hide his annoyance. Why couldn't he just have a moment alone with Rain?

"Oh great, so you tossed your foals to that bodyguard?" The black mare retorted.

Too exhausted and irritated to argue with the overbearing mare, Rain spoke up before Spirit would say something he'd regret later. "Alright, I'm coming." She looked at Spirit apologetically and made to follow Misty.

However, the two mares came to an abrupt halt when Spirit, without a warning, leaped in front of them and snaked them off, ushering them to the opposite side as he suddenly grew overly-defensive. "What the actual hell?" Protested Misty, kicking her heels up. "Spirit, what are you doing?" Rain demanded in confusion.

"Shh...keep quiet." The stallion was all tense, his ears were straining as he stood in front of them with a protective stance.

"Stop acting like a nutcase and tell us–" Misty didn't get to finish her complaints because Spirit snapped at her with his teeth bared.

"I said shut up." He hissed, desperately trying to keep himself calm and collected. "Can't you sense what's happening here? We are being watched." He whispered, his brown eyes were focused on the forest opening beyond a small stream that flowed through the camp.

It was only after Spirit pointed out this particular detail did the two mares finally perceive an unknown presence among them. The scent of a stranger – definitely a horse – was carried by the wind, making both Rain and Misty shiver in anticipation. But Spirit was not planning on waiting for the intruder to make the first move, he would discover whoever it was himself.

"Stay here, you two, I'll be back." He quickly instructed the mares.

"No! Spirit, it could be dangerous." Rain snatched his mane, stopping him in tracks.

Spirit reassured the worried mare with a soft brush against her cheek. "I'll be fine. Trust me."

"I'm not leaving you while you venture off like that." The paint mare persisted stubbornly, earning an over-exaggerated eye roll from Misty.

Spirit shook his head, refusing to reason with her. "No, Rain. I won't be able to protect you if–"

"For the love of everything pure, stop with this romantic bullshit and open your eyes!" Misty cried out, sick and tired of their similar unyielding nature. "Look!" She jerked her head as the stranger emerged from the hideout. A horse, who looked more dead than alive, stumbled towards the three with great difficulty. One step was enough to make his knees quiver violently and before they knew it, his legs gave out and he collapsed on the cold, hard ground. Spirit immediately rushed to his side, Rain and Misty cautiously trotting behind him.

Only when he got near, did the golden stallion discern the ghastly condition of the young horse. He was still but a colt...no older than three years. His entire body, which was probably shimmering in rich, reddish colour during the summer months, was covered with white substance that his sweat had worked up, mixed with blood and mud. There was not one, but two nasty wounds on his body. His entire shoulder was ripped open, his bones sticking out like a fresh blade of grass in the melting snow. He also appeared to be shot in the left side of his neck, blood was continuously streaming from his body and his breathing was so heavy. Spirit turned to shield Rain and Misty from such a frightful sight, but he was too late. The two mares had seen everything; Rain was presently shaking uncontrollably, unable to shift her widened eyes elsewhere, while Misty quickly looked away from the horrific scene.

"He's dying, Spirit..." The black mare grunted lowly. "Just put him out of his misery."

"Wh-what happened to him?" Tears were gathering in Rain's crystal eyes, her chin trembled. She didn't know why she was getting so emotional, but something about this strange, unfortunate horse gave her a nightmarish feeling. He was like the death itself.

Spirit was equally shocked as he looked at the stranger's unfathomable state, who was desperately forcing himself to spit out at least some syllables.

"Who did this to you?" Spirit lowered his head to the horse. "Where do you come from? What is your name?"

"Th-they..." The horse was mumbling inaudibly, facing final hours of his torturous agony. "...they will...do this to all of you...if you... don't...if you...don't...run"

Spirit became quite unnerved as he heard the dreadful warning of the dying horse. "What is your name? Where did you come from?" He repeated, hoping to obtain some clear information.

"Wa-washita...Washita..." Was the last sound that came out of the hapless animal right before he ceased breathing. His torment was over.

"Oh my goodness." Rain snivelled with a gasp, almost choking on her own voice. Who would half butcher this poor young horse and leave him to fend like that? Only in ruthless battles one could witness such hideous, tragic occurrences. She squeezed her eyes tight, fighting hard to block out what she had just seen.

If Misty thought that romantic interactions between Spirit and Rain would cause her to vomit, she had been wrong. In that second, she came to a realization that only now she knew how it felt to be nauseous. Her head was spinning...she had never beheld anything like that before. And it send tremors up her spine whenever she thought about who might've done this. It was not a work of a regular predator, desperate to obtain a meal. It was a doing of a human being...the worst beast of all. All this made her dizzy and ill.

Spirit remained grim-faced, but his stomach twisted with both sickness and fury. He turned to the mares, who were both pale and frightened out of their wits.

"Washita...I think I've heard that calling somewhere before. It's a name of a river down south, if I'm not mistaken." Rain was fretting as she commenced to pace back and forth out of anxiety, almost stumbling to her knees.

"Hey, hey. It's okay." Alarmed by the way her voice fractured on each word, Spirit pressed his lips on her blonde forelock, nibbling at it gently. "Shh...calm down. These things happen."

"Oh, don't bullshit us!" Misty snapped angrily. "I think we're old enough to know that whatever happened to this poor colt isn't just something that happens! We have foals to protect, damn it!"

"She's right..." Rain was shaking like a leaf. Spirit could feel just how hard she was fighting it, but the tremors came through and pierced into his own body as he touched her. "This is a result of a gruesome...massacre."

"Does that mean we're next?" Misty questioned her niece with dread.

"That's enough." Spirit announced, trying hard not to cloud his own judgement with worst case scenarios. He gave Rain a gentle, comforting stroke on the muzzle and beckoned both of the mares to follow him. "We need to return to the camp and somehow alert the humans." He wasn't entirely sure as to what the near future held for them, but come what may, he swore that he'd protect them and their colts from any danger. He would fight for their survival till his last breath...till his final heartbeat.

The three of them were still standing on the outskirts of the Renegade encampment when a galloping sounds of several riders and their horses filled their eardrums. The tenseness of the three dispersed upon noticing that it were the Lakota scouts and not the threatening cavalry. Before either one of them could react, Great Conquest appeared, neighing to them with urgency. "You better come! There's something you should be aware of!"