Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Wolf's Clothing

Going a little longer and darker today. The challenge on this was to rewrite a fairy tale from the villains point of view.


                 U’tana’ Waya was a warrior of his people. The men of his family had been hunters since the times when land and sky were one. Once the sons of the chief had chosen their brides the men of the Waya line had their choice of the most beautiful women amongst the tribe. They always had. Hunters had been revered and loved. It was when the soft men came that the role of his family had changed.
                The soft pink men destroyed everything they touched. They ravaged the land, burned the trees, and slaughtered the animals of the forest with no thought towards leaving enough to breed and prosper to provide food for the children of their children. Witness the absence of buffalo after their arrival, a thing that had never before been a danger. Worst of all these pigs violated and defiled the women of the tribe.
                The tribe was naught more than animals to the pigs. Their women were property to be stolen, used, destroyed, and then returned in a tarnished state or worse left lying in their blood and shame; forced to survive on their own if they were able, which many were not. The tribe must then attempt to set to right whatever devastation had been most recently visited upon those women after the soft pink men had departed. They did what they could but as the pigs also slaughtered members of the tribe; man, woman or child; when the urge or strong drink was upon the interlopers the tribe had a difficult time of it.
If the natives resorted to extreme measures such actions could be understood could they not? They were necessary. What brave would wish a violated squaw? If one claimed or spoke for the woman she was left in peace. It made U’tana’ ill when one was disposed of. Avoiding such a fate for as many as possible was why he had taken one of the defiled for his own wife. It was also why his eldest daughter was not of his blood.
U’tana’ was thirsty for revenge. The tribe was hungry for blood and satisfaction. First the explorers came and some of those did not survive, though most passed through too quickly and the vengeance was much as ashes in the mouth of the tribe. Next the cavalry arrived and the tribe flowed their wrath upon the men in blue. Some of the soft men passed with the attacks. The losses to the invaders were not enough to hide that those attacks did more to leave the tribe broken and depleted of warriors than they did to stem the invasion. With U’tana’s people “broken” and depleted the government of the soft pink men declared the land tamed. The three brothers came to the acres they had purchased despite the fact that the tribe had never sold it. Finally the tribe saw the chance to balance the scales.

The brothers Porc had purchased the land at an amazing price from the government. They had no qualms about what had happened there, though that was part of the reason for the discount. There was still some concern that the efforts to drive off or exterminate the savages that inhabited the land previously had not been entirely successful. The official that had signed papers with them had been emphatic that he told them of the danger only because it was required. In his professional opinion there was no longer cause for concern. The cavalry had seen to that.
The brothers were divided in their acceptance of that assurance. Andre, the eldest and most morbid of humor had complete faith that the Lord and his rulers would protect him. Benoit, the middle brother and shortest of temper believed that God was on his side but that human officials were full of lies if it brought them the ends they sought. Pierre, the youngest and most nervous of spirit knew that all men deceived and believed that the Lord only helped those that helped themselves. Thus they were arguing.
“We should mock these savages!” Andre insisted in his gruff and boisterous tones. “We will build our homes from grass and mud in honor of their huts and in the manner of their teepees!”
The time had long passed that the younger brothers caved instantly to the bleetings of their elder. Both shook their head. Andre was hard to take, though his brothers could do so with more ease than others. Pierre would not look upon his brother. Benoit was more benevolent. He spoke in calm, soothing, reasonable tones when he offered his own opinions.
“While I believe that we are safe there is no reason to be cruel to the animals. Moreover it is wise to take precaution and avoid tempting fate by mocking them. I advise that we build cabins of log as we had back home.”
Andre laughed off the suggestion. Benoit had skin thickened by a lifetime of jibes from his brother and shrugged off this newest one. Pierre then offered his own advice. He seethed the words out in a sibilant hiss that was positively serpentine and brooked no argument.
“We must defend ourselves. We shall build a fortress of the sturdiest stones we can pull from the land and fill it with soldiers and men at arms.”
Pierre’s tone brooked no argument and yet the other brothers did so. Under open air and then in their tent to protect from morning dew the siblings raged and bickered. The disagreement knew no surcease. At the end they declared they were no longer family and would see each other no more. They divided the plot in thirds. Each would abandon the others and do their own will upon their private land.
Andre went north and built his mocking hut of grass and mud. Benoit cut down trees that had been sacred to the tribe and built his log cabin on the ground where he had lost his brothers in symbol if not fact. Pierre rode south to build his outpost after gathering the largest and mightiest of stones from the hills that existed there.

For a time the brothers knew peace. It was the peace that only one that lives without danger and with enough distance from his family that they might visit but not happen upon him can know. For a time solitude and peace brought with them happiness. That time was less than a week.






#dark #politicalcommentary #shortstory #fairytale #nativeamerican

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