Her expression darkened.
“Vance's men.”
“Why?”
“Because they believed fear was cheaper than negotiation.”
Corvin nodded.
He understood that kind of man.
He had known men like Vance during the war.
Men who believed violence was not a last resort.
It was simply a business tool.
Saira looked toward the spring.
“You and I have the same enemy.”
Corvin nodded.
“And perhaps,” he said, “the same reason to stay alive.”
THE SHADOW TREATY
The next morning, Corvin rode north with Saira and twelve Apache warriors.
They traveled through narrow canyons.
At noon they reached a hidden valley.
There, Corvin saw something he had never expected.
Families.
Women.
Children.
Old men.
People hiding from soldiers, mercenaries, and raiders.
They had been living without safety for years.
Corvin dismounted.
An old man approached.
Tomas.
He studied Corvin for a long moment.
“You are the water bearer.”
Corvin frowned.
“Saira told you?”
“No.”
Tomas tapped his chest.
“We remember stories.”
Corvin looked around.
“What do you want from me?”
Tomas answered:
“Nothing.”
That surprised him.
“Then why bring me here?”
“To offer you something.”
Tomas pointed toward the mountains.
“Land.”
Corvin stared.
“I already have land.”
“You have a spring.”
“And you need it.”
“Yes.”
“So this is a trade.”
“No.”
Tomas stepped closer.
“You gave water without asking for anything. We offer protection without asking for anything.”
Corvin shook his head.
“Nothing is free.”
Tomas smiled.
“Everything important is.”
For the first time in years, Corvin felt something loosen inside him.
He had spent most of his adult life believing survival required isolation.
Maybe he had been wrong.
That afternoon, they created an agreement.
No written document.
No government seal.
No judge.
No signature.
Only spoken promises.
The Apache would protect Cold Springs.
Corvin would allow travelers to drink freely from the spring.
No warrior would use his ranch as a base for attacks.
No settler would be permitted to poison or control the water.
If Vance attacked one side, the other would respond.
They called it the Shadow Treaty.
Because no government would acknowledge it.
No newspaper would print it.
No official would sign it.
But everyone who lived in the badlands would eventually learn about it.
And everyone who learned about it would understand one thing:
Cold Springs was no longer alone.
Three days later, Vance returned.
This time he brought more men.
Nearly one hundred.
But he made one mistake.
He attacked at night.
Corvin heard the first horse before the riders entered the valley.
He woke Saira.
She was already standing.
“Men.”
Corvin nodded.
“How many?”
“Too many.”
They stepped outside.
Torches moved through the darkness.
Vance shouted:
“Torne! Come outside!”
Corvin remained behind the stone wall.
Vance continued.
“You cannot hide behind Indians forever!”
Saira's expression hardened.
Corvin raised his rifle.
“Don't.”
She looked at him.
“Why?”
“Let me speak.”
He stood.
“Vance!”
The shouting stopped.
“You want the spring?”
“Yes!”
“Then come take it.”
Vance laughed.
“You think this is funny?”
“No.”
Corvin looked toward the ridges.
He knew the warriors were there.
Invisible.
Waiting.
He continued.
“You've brought a hundred men.”
“Yes.”
“I have forty cattle.”
“So?”
“You've already lost twenty men trying to take this place.”
Vance's face tightened.
Corvin pointed toward the dark ridges.
“And there are three hundred people waiting for you to make the next mistake.”
Silence.
Then Vance fired.
The bullet struck the stone beside Corvin.
The ridges erupted.
Arrows.
Gunfire.
Shouting.
Horses.
Vance's men panicked.
Some fled immediately.
Others fired blindly into the darkness.
Within fifteen minutes, the attack was broken.
Vance himself disappeared into the night.
Corvin found him the next morning.
Not far from the southern wash.
Wounded.
Alone.
His horse was gone.
His shoulder was bleeding.
Corvin stood over him.
Vance looked up.
“Kill me.”
Corvin's Colt remained holstered.
“No.”
Vance laughed bitterly.
“Why?”
“Because killing you would make you important.”
Vance stared.
Corvin continued.
“I'm taking you to Oakhaven.”
“What?”
“Alive.”
“You think they'll hang me?”
“I think people will finally hear what you've done.”
Vance spat blood.