The Shattered West: The Tale of Colt Marsh - Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Which way now?

St. Andrew, Republic of St. Andrew (formerly San Francisco); May 6, 1869

Colt woke with a sense of comfort and ease he hadn’t felt in weeks since his days back with Master Bai Hu. Once in a great while his Master would let him sleep but usually at the cost of extra chores or drills to perform. This was different though. This was like the sweet sleep of waking up at home, nestled in a warm bed and not having a care in the world. He hadn’t felt that in over fifteen years.

He sat up, stretched and took a number of deep breaths before beginning his normal routine of practicing a few forms - his daily ritual. He tuned out the hustle and bustle of the street below and noticed it was dark outside. Dark outside but very lively around him. There were the raucous sounds of music and drink downstairs, a fight, someone cheering at winning a hand of some game, and the sounds of the soiled doves plying their trade in the rooms on both sides.

His stomach groaned and he remembered Seamus saying his lodging and food were paid for so he headed downstairs to see what that might mean. Many folks took notice of him as he left his room and he’d never shaken more hands or received more pats on the back in his whole life combined. He turned down several offers of a free drink and invitations back to different ladies rooms. Approaching the bartender, he was greeted with an enormous smile.

“Well hello sir!” the bartender said cordially, extending a hand. Name’s Sven Johnson and this is my establishment. Seamus was a dear friend of mine and made sure we’re to treat you proper for a whole week should you want it. All the food, drink, and companionship you may desire is on the house.”

Colt shook his hand and was a bit embarrassed by all the attention. The only attention he’d ever received was usually negative and sometimes painful, except but still sometimes from Master Bai Hu. “Thank you sir, most kind of you. I could use something to eat - whatever’s easiest will do. And water please.”

The bartender looked at him suspiciously wondering why any man would turn down free drinks but whether his initial offer was out of loyalty to or fear of Seamus Colt still received a thick steak and boiled potatoes shortly thereafter. He consumed the steak ravenously, having not eaten since departing the Dutch ship. Offered beer or whiskey, he asked for water and while it was likely less safe to drink than the alcohol, he still opted for water. Master Bai had forbade drinking rice wine and he still had the traces of a hangover headache and decided he’d ne’er drink again.

Colt asked around and there was a stagecoach departing for Sacramento and from there he could take a train to Salt Lake CIty and maybe onto Denver. Folks weren’t too sure what a person would want to head into the Free Territories for; what people called the lands west of the Mississippi, south of the Lakota Nation, and north of the Free Peoples of the Southwest, but they told him how to get there nonetheless.

So much had changed in the years since Colt had left the Wyoming Territory of what had once been a growing nation. He had read every newspaper he could get his hands on while living in China and had heard how states in the southern regions had seceded from the Union and there soon began a Civil War. Seeing a nation torn apart, foreign powers stepped in. France tried to reclaim what it had sold to the United States in the Louisiana Purchase but only the folks living in and around the state of Louisiana were favorable to new management.

When the Union called for troops across the newest states and for nearly two, bloody years of fighting the folks from what had been Wisconsin, Iowa, and Illinois, had ignored the call to reassemble in 1857. They figured if the south had seceded because of tariffs and port taxes they could too for no other reason than they saw the Civil War as a battle of money-men from back east. In turn, they rebelled and formed Deutshe-Navia, seeing as how so many folks who loved there were from Germany or the Scandanavian countries of northern Europe.

With the south’s hold on the south itself split, France allying and aiding them with supplies and arms but holding firm to their new lands, the new government of the Confederacy couldn’t hold onto much anything else west of the Mississippi River. Texas decided if it had been its own country once, it would be again.

The Native peoples of the continent too saw this as their chance. The various tribes of the Dakota regions joined in a strong alliance under Chief Crazy Horse. He had won the vote over Sitting Bull who favored peace but the people were tired of the white man seizing their lands, forcing their children to forget their heritage, and being ushered onto reservations. Chief Crazy Horse holds an uneasy truce on many fronts; the Mormons to the west and southwest, the Free Territories to the south, the Union to the east, and Britain to the north. The Free Territories to the south are a lawless land and are the cause of most of his concerns - bandits striking in and raiding settlements then escaping back to the south.

Chief Geronimo of Arizona made a deal with Mexico to not intervene if they sought to regain Texas or what was once called California but saw a chance to make further alliances with people of a similar mind. Oil was discovered in the Oklahoma Territory in 1859. The Cherokee people who had been forced there generations before and the Confederacy tried to relocate them again but they rose up and claimed the land, and riches, they’d been forced upon. Chief Degataga united the tribes and laid claim to the oil. Allying with Geronimo, the pair created a confederacy of their own - the Free Peoples of the Southwest.

This is where Colt was now. Fifteen years removed, a whole new world around him, but driven with the same desire to return to his home and see what remained of it. Had any of his people survived the attack? If so, where had they gone to? And if they had, would they treat him like even more of an outsider? He didn’t know but he had to find out.

A day later, he was on a stagecoach and headed to Sacramento. The bartender had seen to it that Colt got whatever he wanted, food and supplies, and was routinely surprised by Colt’s refusal of certain vices others might indulge in in the same situation. Colt was handed a pack of goods, a ticket to Sacramento, and a pouch of gold coins - better than paper money as each new nation and territory seemed to have their own equally new currency.

Colt was amazed at the coach - so large and shiny and wondered how made of metal could be pulled with any great speed. Then he saw the team of horses set to pull it. They were gigantic. Colt had seen Clydesdales before but these looked as large but sleeker. “Their an Arabian-Clydesdale cross,” the teammaster told him, seeing him wide-eyed, “still don’t get how they made it work but with all this new science out there someone did.”

He had also heard of another war that brewed on the American Continent - a war of science. The countries and territories at war knew they had a limited supply of soldiers so they all sought to create bigger and better weapons. As a carryover effect, all sorts of industries had seen advances in the last 10 years like none before. Seeing such a creature, created out of necessity to pull bigger and more devastating weapons of war made Colt sad at first but glad that the trip would take but a day - only stopping once to swap horses part way through.

The trip was uneventful, save the “border” crossing as they left St. Andrew. They entered the lands controlled by Mexico, Alta California. The coach driver had to show a license to cross into the land and paperwork on all the passengers. Colt was wondering what paperwork they had on him, he’d not filled anything out. Then he noticed there was a wad of bills under the papers that the driver had handed the guard at the checkpoint. They were allowed to pass.

He shared the coach with two others; a man dressed in refinement who slept the whole of the trip and an elderly woman who clearly wouldn't bring herself to speak to someone like Colt. So instead of chatting with his coachmates Colt simply took in the sights as they flew by. He found a simple hotel in Sacramento and went to bed early - not wanting to miss the train in the morning.

But as Colt slept, someone snuck into his room. They made no sound but entered like a ghost. They could have killed him as he lay there or robbed him blind, but instead they left him small items only to be discovered the next day.

In the morning, Colt woke to a knock on his door - “It’s 6am sir, wake up call as you requested.” Colt called back a thank you and turned to face the sun. He had two hours to prepare himself, more than enough time to do his morning routines and exercises, but when he stepped into his sandal he felt something in it. Wondering how he could miss a rock in it the day before, he reached down and discovered it was not a rock but a wooden bead. A bead impossible to be in his sandal.

China, many years earlier

Master Bai was the most patient man Colt had ever met. Only two things on earth seemed to break his patience; students who didn’t listen and anyone harming an innocent person. Colt was thankful today was the latter.

They’d travelled to town to get supplies when Master Bai saw a merchant being hassled and then beaten by a trio of local thugs. At first he’d approached calmly, asked them to depart and offered all the money he had if they’d just leave the man alone. The thugs laughed at this, assuming he had little or no money, and shoved him away. Master Bai simply turned and walked over to Colt. “Hai, if I should fall, take this and run. Do not intervene. I command it. Do you understand?” Colt simply nodded in reply. And Master Bai handed him his one and only possession - a bracelet made of wooden beads.

A shaolin master was forbidden to hold onto earthly treasures but Master Bai had been given the bracelet by the Dalai Lama himself. Seeing it as a gift from a god incarnate, Master Bai cherished it. Colt wondered why Master Bai was so concerned, clearly he could best three thugs, but he obeyed, stood back, and watched.

As Master Bai approached, a dozen more men encircled him. Colt hadn’t even seen them. But Bai knew his odds against fifteen weren’t good. Colt prepared to join his master but heard him shout, “Hai!” And that’s all it took...he knew he had to stand back and perhaps watch his master fall.

Words could not describe what Colt saw next but in a matter of seconds, fifteen men were on the ground and his master still stood. Bai returned, accepted the beads back, and offered a prayer of thanksgiving as he went from bead to bead, in gratitude to the gods.

Master Bai said his bracelet was special. Wooden beads made from a limb of the famous Bodhi Tree the Buddha supposedly sat under, carved by eight different Dalai Lamas in the centuries since - one for each cog of the wheel in the Eightfold Path - and given to the him, in recognition of a matter of which Master Bai would never speak of.

Back in a hotel, Sacramento

And here Colt was, holding a bead, it could be no other or from anywhere else, from his master’s bracelet. He felt a sense of dread only comparable to the day his mother died in front of him. He heard a clock chime down the hall and heard it ring seven times. He had an hour before his train left and needed only 10 minutes to get to the station. Heeding the words Master Bai had said so many times, he sat, breathed deep, and thought. He had already wasted an hour in memories and ponderings.

For as much as his Master loved him, surely he would have never removed a bead from his bracelet and given it to him before he left China. Besides, how could it have gotten in his sandal? That meant someone put it there. Master Bai would not have snuck in and played such a trick - again, he’d also never want to desecrate his sole, prized possession. Someone else had… and that’s what worried Colt.

He packed his few belongings and left his room. Doing his best to not appear worried or in a rush, he searched every shadow, listened for every sound which might tell him someone was near but trying to hide. He saw and heard nothing but the sounds of everyone else around him and that worried him most.

There were only two men he knew who could have snuck in and left the bead. He’d left a father and brother in China. And then it hit him...like the train he’d soon be boarding. The brother he’d left behind...the brother who wanted him dead…