Elias had deliberately left a trail leading there.
Crowe's men followed.
One by one.
Then twenty.
Then thirty.
Then all forty.
Once they entered the narrow passage, Tala gave a signal.
The darkness came alive.
Apache warriors emerged from the rocks.
No shouting.
No chaos.
Just movement.
Men were disarmed before they understood what had happened.
Horses were seized.
Weapons dropped.
Within minutes, Crowe's carefully prepared assault had become a complete defeat.
Crowe himself was dragged before Elias.
He was furious.
"You don't know what you're doing," he hissed.
Elias looked at him.
"I know exactly what I'm doing."
"You think these people will protect you forever?"
Elias looked toward Tala.
"No."
Then he turned back.
"I think they are protecting something more important than me."
Crowe laughed.
"You think water belongs to everyone?"
"No," Elias replied.
"It belongs to whoever can defend it."
Tala stepped forward.
"No."
Crowe looked at her.
She pointed toward the valley.
"It belongs to whoever refuses to poison it."
Crowe's smile disappeared.
That was the first moment he understood that he had lost.
But it was not the last.
By sunrise, the valley had changed.
Crowe's men had been disarmed.
More importantly, the evidence they carried had been recovered.
Maps.
Contracts.
Lists of payments.
Names of officials.
Records of ranches purchased under threats.
Receipts proving that Crowe had paid men to burn property and frighten families into selling.
Elias looked through the papers.
"This is enough to destroy him."
Tala nodded.
"Not if the law belongs to him."
Elias looked at her.
"Then we take it somewhere the law doesn't belong to him."
"Where?"
"Territorial court."
Tala shook her head.
"His friends control the judge."
"Then Washington."
She studied him.
"You believe the government will help?"
"I believe paper can sometimes be stronger than bullets."
Tala considered that.
"Sometimes."
A distant sound interrupted them.
Horses.
Lots of horses.
Elias turned toward the eastern road.
A column of cavalry appeared.
At least sixty men.
At their head rode Colonel Amos Rusk.
Elias knew the name.
Rusk was known for his hatred of Apache communities.
He had also been seen drinking with Crowe.
Tala's warriors disappeared into the surrounding rocks.
Within seconds, the valley appeared empty.
Elias remained beside the well.
Alone.
Rusk approached.
"You are Elias Varden?"
"Yes."
"Where is Crowe?"
"Dead."
Rusk's hand moved toward his pistol.
"Dead?"
"He attacked my ranch."
"And you expect me to believe you killed him?"
"No."
Elias lifted a leather case.
"I expect you to read his records."
Rusk stared at the case.
Then at Elias.
"Hand it over."
"No."
Rusk laughed.
"You don't understand your position."
"I understand it perfectly."
Rusk drew his revolver.
Elias did not move.
Behind Rusk, one of the soldiers whispered.
"Sir."
Rusk glanced back.
"What?"
The soldier pointed toward the ridge.
Nothing.
Then a single stone rolled down the slope.
Rusk looked upward.
Tala stood on a high rock.