Chapter 4

The next morning Alex rode Xanthos and Balios east to Cornville to meet the Marshall and get the lay of the town. There was not much to offer, but a small mercantile, saloon, and a farmer's market. Alex found out that the town's Marshall was named Eloi Martin, a boisterous Frenchman of Cajun decent. He sat chomping on a cigar, and sipping a steaming cup of coffee. He was watching Alex intently. Martin stood just a hair over 5' 5" tall and was well muscled. His salt and pepper hair cut short. His brown eyes were very sharp, but tended to dart around behind his glasses. A neatly trimmed moustache and goatee marred his otherwise stereotypical Marine exterior. This man screamed "Jarhead." His skin is deeply tanned and weathered; and he spoke in a surprisingly rumbling, and deep voice. Alex found out through their conversation that he was an educated man. Alex noticed him checking his wristwatch and a suspicion started to arise in Alex.

"So, you were in the Corps..." Eloi said as a statement, not a question.

"Yes, Marshall. I was in 1st Force Reconnaissance out of Camp Pendleton, California. I got over to the sandbox a few times, and then became a plank owner in MARSOC (MARine Special Operations Command). I have the suspicion that you are a fellow misguided child as well, and your lack of confused reaction to a Marine base that doesn't exist yet confirms it." Alex replied with a grin, pointing at the K-BAR fighting knife hanging from his belt, "You are also far from home in distance and time. A medicine man recently told me that I wasn't the only one."

"Ah, you must mean White Raven. He always seems to be in the right place at the right time, no?" Eloi said with a chuckle.

"Are you the half-blood spirit he mentioned?" Alex excitedly asked.

"Oui. I was a Captain in the Tiger Zouaves during the War. A war you would call the Twilight War or World War III." Eloi said with a small smile, handing Alex his K-BAR. Intricately engraved on the blade was the dedication:

"Given in gratitude to The Swamp Fox -- Los Fantasmas de la Ciénaga"

"I am impressed, Marshall. Or is it Captain? World War III never happened in my timeline."

Taking the knife back, Eloi waved his hand dismissively, "its Eloi, my friend. It was nothing, and a long time ago; or yet to come depending how you look at it. Count yourself fortunate that the Twilight War never happened in your timeline. I watched the world burn." Eloi said quietly, lost in his memories. "I hear," Eloi said a moment later, changing the subject, "that you are working with the stage and securing the route."

"Yes sir. That was my intention. Sort of a freelance bounty hunter and roving security patrol." Alex said.

"Mmm." Eloi intoned, noncommittal. "What are your thoughts on the Apache?"

"I have no issue with the Dil-ze'e (Apache) or Wipukepaya (Yavapai)," Alex replied, surprising Eloi with his knowledge, "I know this is their land, and I lay no claim on it. I know there is trouble brewing with the settlers and the miners that are flooding the area. Maybe I can help The People's voices be heard and understood."

"Maybe so. I remember the horrors of the Trail of Tears. My mother is Houma." Eloi said quietly.

"There were and are many things we can do differently, Eloi. Maybe we can find a way for us to all live in peace." Alex said, sincerely.

"I hope we can find it, mon ami, for everyone's sake." Eloi said, somberly before sighing and standing up. "Are you hungry? Allons-y. I will bring you home for dinner. I'm sure An'Janae and the children will want to meet you. It isn't everyday that we get visitors."

Alex and Eloi mounted up and rode out to Eloi's ranch. Eloi told Alex his family's story on the way...

Eloi was born in the outskirts of Houma, Louisiana on 02 August 1964. Raised in the dense swamps surrounding the rural town, he learned to fish, hunt and operate a boat at a young age. His family was very close and operated a small farm on an island. In his youth, Eloi was responsible for tending his mother's garden as well as helping in the kitchen. He has fond memories of his grandfather teaching him to operate the family still, and that was where his love for machinery developed.

At the age of fourteen Eloi had a before and after school job at the Alpuente family's farm in Thibodaux, Louisiana. He was hired on as a hand and helped tend the animals, and assist in harvesting sugarcane. In return, the owners taught him how to ride, and the maintenance man, Cleophus Castille, took him under his wing. Cleophus began teaching Eloi all he knew about mechanics and life in general.

At seventeen, Eloi graduated high school and enrolled in a technical school to further his aptitude in all things mechanical. After he finished the technical school, he left for college (the first of his family to do so). He left behind his wife, An'Janae Alpuente Martin, young son Alphonse, and a very proud family. An appointment was awarded to Eloi at the US Naval Academy. He elected to follow his passion and pursue an engineering degree. Upon completing his degree, 2nd Lieutenant Martin (USMC) returned home for a short time before enrolling in graduate school. During this time his daughter, Isabella, was born.

After graduate school, with a fresh Master of Mechanical Engineering degree in his hands, Eloi reported for duty with 2nd CEB (Combat Engineer Battalion) in Camp Lejeune, NC. After his initial training and outfitting, he deployed to the developing European Theater. After several years of fighting, destroying and rebuilding of Europe, now 1st Lt. Martin was recalled to the US to help in the efforts against the Mexican invasion and other militant groups in the southern US. Unbeknownst to the Lieutenant, he had been making quite a name for himself as a quality leader and potential commander.

Lt. Martin was promoted to Captain upon his return and given command of a small unit of militia and reservists to harass the enemy. He called his unit the Louisiana Volunteers. He chose Cleophus Castille, his childhood mentor, as his "First Sergeant" to help guide him and run the administrative side of the company.

The locals called them The Louisiana Tigers or The Tiger Rifles after the famous Mexican War and Civil War units. Falling back on the lessons of Francis Marion during the American Revolution, Captain Martin led a series of daring and devastating raids against all that threatened his area. He was so successful that his men began calling him "The Swamp Fox" in honor of his expertise in lightning raids. The enemy began offering rewards for the capture of him and his men. The notices billed his unit as "Los Fantasmas de la Ciénaga" (The Ghosts of the Swamp).

When it was apparent that the front was collapsing, MilGov decided to pull Captain Martin, his family and any surviving men from his unit away from the front and keep them safe. The rationale was that his experience and leadership could be better put to use in rebuilding the country and training future generations of fighting Americans. His wife and children, as well as two children of his former XO, Jonathan Breaux, who was killed in battle, joined him on this new adventure. Cleophus Castille, his boyhood mentor and former First Sergeant also decided to accompany the family.

In 2001, while the family was moving to the Pacific Northwest to participate in a rebuilding effort called the Phoenix Project, a freak storm transported them to the Verde Valley. They have been living quietly in peace for the last four years.

When Eloi was finished, Alex shared his own tale.

Alex was born in Camp Verde, AZ on November 10, 1975 (an auspicious day in a Marine Corps family) to Nicolaos and Daphne Theron. He was discovered to be a polyglot at a young age and could already speak eight languages before he graduated high school. He participated in football, baseball, and cross-country track.

He became friends with several members of the Apache and Yavapai tribes while living around the Verde Valley. He quickly learned their language and earned their respect as a hunter and speaker. He would regularly attend dances and hunts with the tribal people.

He attended college at the University of Arizona, obtaining a Master's of Chemical Engineering Degree before joining the US Marine Corps. He refused to accept a commission, instead following his father's example and going enlisted infantry. Because of his athleticism and natural ability with languages, he was recruited into Force Recon.

After a long and decorated career, including combat in Iraq and Afghanistan, being a founding member (plank owner) of MARSOC, and twenty years of service, Alex retired and resettled in his hometown. Now 42, Alex had been enjoying the retired life and occasionally consulting for various private military companies and for the federal government before being blown back to 1873.

As they rode into a modest ranch just outside of town, a young man greeted them close to the gate.

"Hello papa," the young man said, "I see you have brought a visitor. Welcome to our ranch, I am Alphonse Martin."

"Alex Theron, it's nice to meet you Alphonse." Alex said, nodding to the carbon copy of his dad in dress in mannerism. Physically, they looked the same other than Al's hair was shaggy and unkempt. Al also had a scruffy beard. He stood about an inch shorter than his dad, and was not quite as well built.

"Al, Alex is from uptime as well, but not our uptime. Where is everyone else? We need to have a talk over lunch." Eloi said to a now very interested Alphonse.

"I'll go round them up, papa," Al said before whistling for his mule, then turning to Alex, "it was nice meeting you, Mr. Theron. See you again soon."