He believed her.
“Why warn me?”
Saira looked at the well.
“Because you gave me water.”
Corvin shook his head.
“That was nothing.”
“For you.”
She pointed toward the well.
“For us, water is never nothing.”
Corvin looked at the three hundred warriors.
“You're telling me they're here because I filled a ladle?”
Saira's eyes hardened.
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“You filled it when you believed I was your enemy.”
Corvin had no answer.
Then she said the words that changed everything.
“Vance does not want your ranch.”
Corvin frowned.
“He wants your spring.”
A distant gunshot cracked across the southern valley.
Everyone turned.
Corvin looked toward the road.
Dust rose.
A wagon appeared.
Then another.
Riders followed.
Saira mounted her horse.
Corvin reached for his rifle.
“How many?”
“Forty-seven,” she repeated.
Corvin chambered a round.
“Then I suppose we'd better make them regret coming.”
Saira looked at him.
For the first time, the corner of her mouth moved.
Not quite a smile.
Something close.
“You are not alone now.”
THE EMPIRE OF BLOOD
Harlan Vance rode at the front of the approaching column.
He was a handsome man in his early forties, with carefully groomed hair, an expensive coat, and polished boots that had never touched honest frontier mud.
He carried a silver-handled revolver.
Behind him rode forty-six men.
Some were hired ranch hands.
Others were mercenaries.
A few were men Corvin recognized from Oakhaven.
Vance stopped when he saw the ridges.
His face changed.
The Apache warriors were visible everywhere.
Three hundred shadows.
Vance looked at his lieutenant.
“What the hell is this?”
The lieutenant swallowed.
“Apache.”
“I can see that.”
“Three hundred, maybe more.”
Vance's jaw tightened.
“That is impossible.”
But it was not.
He had expected Corvin to be alone.
He had expected fear.
He had expected the rancher to surrender his land.
Instead, the hills were filled with armed warriors.
Vance looked toward the well.
He understood.
“It's the water.”
His lieutenant nodded.
Vance smiled slowly.
“Then we'll take it anyway.”
He raised his hand.
His men lifted their rifles.
On the ridge, Saira raised her bow.
Corvin stepped beside her.
“You don't have to fight for me.”
She looked at him.
“We are not fighting for you.”
“Then what are you fighting for?”
She pointed at the well.
“For the right of every living thing to drink.”
The first rifle fired.
The bullet struck the ground between Corvin and Saira.
Then the valley exploded.
Apache arrows fell from the ridges.
Vance's men fired wildly.
Horses screamed.
Dust rose.
Corvin dropped behind the stone wall.
He fired once.
A mercenary fell from his saddle.
He fired again.
Another man disappeared behind his horse.
The Apache fighters moved like shadows.
They did not charge.
They used the hills.
They appeared.
Fired.
Vanished.
Vance's men had numbers.
The Apache had the terrain.
Within minutes, the attackers began retreating.
Vance screamed at them.
“Hold your ground!”
Nobody listened.
One of his own men shouted:
“They're everywhere!”
Vance looked toward the northern ridge.
He saw Saira.
She had an arrow drawn.
She was staring directly at him.
Vance fired.
The bullet missed.
Saira released.
The arrow struck Vance's shoulder.
He fell backward.
His horse bolted.
His men scattered.
The battle ended almost as quickly as it had begun.
Silence returned.
Corvin stood slowly.
His cabin was damaged.
Two fence posts had been shattered.
One horse had a shallow bullet wound.
But the spring was untouched.
Vance had failed.
Yet Corvin knew the man well enough to understand something.
Harlan Vance would not stop.
Not now.
Not after humiliation.
That evening, the Apache camped beyond the ranch.
Corvin cooked beans, salt pork, and biscuits.
He carried plates outside.
Saira stared at him.
“You are feeding three hundred people?”
“I don't have enough.”
“Then why bring food?”
“Because I'm hungry too.”
She sat.
For a while they ate in silence.
Then Saira said:
“You have no family.”
Corvin looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“Your house.”
He smiled faintly.
“House tells you that?”
“No family leaves fewer footprints.”
Corvin looked down.
“My wife died.”
Saira did not ask how.
He appreciated that.
After a while, he said:
“What happened to your people?”