I put my head on Durango's back and fell asleep. The train carrige jolted beneath my feet and the constant clacking of the wheels kept shaking me back into a world where I didn't want to be. Was this what I had become? A number? Just another tool in man's reign of terror? I was beginning to see a very different light to what was now my life, it had been so long, around a year since I had run from the procession back home. I now understood why my father spoke so against the military, they were bent on murder to get their own way.

But surely that wasn't true? Captain Stirr was a kind man, gentle too. How could he murder in cold blood? And Jones, the poor lad who sat in one corner of the carrige, holding his stomach and trying not to be sick, he was so innocent, I doubted he had ever had blood on his hands. The closest I had ever come to killing was attacking that cougar at the ranch.

I sighed. Harry would be older now, and I wondered what he looked like. I still hated the rough man for not listening to him. Then again, I would never have found Durango. Destiny had a strange way of sorting itself out. We were all just followers of a path set before us. I was born future leader, and I was meant to go on this journey to continue my father's legacy.

That was the answer. Neither Stirr or Jones wanted to kill, they were just ordered to. I knew that humans did nothing out of goodwill, it was all because of self benefit. Jones joined the army to get away from horses, but he ended up being with them at all hours - fate. Stirr joined the army to pay for his family's food, and ended up losing his life with the animals he loved - fate.

The train was pulling up and I was being sent off into a war.

Fate.

The brakes squealed and after a moment the door was pulled aside and a ramp set up. Jones attatched a rope to our headcollars and led us off the train. I was preparing myself for the worst. A bloody battlefield, burnt buildings, death everywhere. Instead it was a giant human settlement.

I looked confused and Durango told me this was where we would stay until more horses arrived, then we would be ridden further West and attack the tribe. I shook my head. It was all wrong. All the men I had met were friendly, if not civil, to each other. I couldn't quite believe that they killed each other over land. Yes, stallions fought for their mares and their territory, but they never killed.

We were taken to a large barn on the edge of town. I welcomed the shade and the peace of it. There was a gap down the middle of the building and square stalls lined each side. A typical human layout - practical and simple. Not to mention big. There must have been thrity stalls on each side, minimum.

Because of how many cavalry horses that they were expecting, they doubled up the stables. I was immeadiately put with Durango in the largest and furthest stall. It was coolest at that end and quiet, spare for the tack room oposite that someone would enter occasionally.

There was a small arena outside and we trained in it for four days while the other horses were brought to the barn. I could clearly see the look of fear and anxiety building on the humans' faces, even the colonel's. The dressage and jumping routines finished, and the men began riding with weapons. Swords and guns were both hovering by my ear at a daily basis. They tried target practise while in halt, walk, trot and canter, and galloped with the swords. Eventually, we were ready.

Durango had heard the humans talking about their plans and said that we were leaving in the morning. It was dusk now and we were lying together on the floor of our stall. It suddenly clicked in my head and I asked him how he could understand humans. He told me he had been raised by them and been around them all his life. It was more body language than vocal communication. None of the men could sleep and they were pointing up, such as sun up.

I was intreged. A wild horse would never be able to know what a human was saying, or feeling, just by simple facts and movements. I asked him if he would teach me, and he agreed.

We lay there for about another hour, and once I was sure that all the men and horses were asleep, I asked him if he thought we were going to die tomorrow. He shook his head. If we did, we did, he said. But there would be no point worrying about it. He had been in the army about eight years now and he was still here. If my instincts were strong enough to be a step ahead of danger, I could outwit death almost forever. He planned to die and old, old stallion.

But what about the humans? Wouldn't they shoot him if he got too old or useless? But he replied that he couldn't do anything about that either, the only solution was to continue being useful so that he had a value to them. I thought about something for a minute or two then asked him.

"I want to go back to the wild Durango, but I can't go without you. I now know the true cruelty of man and I don't want to stay here any longer, but even home will feel like a prison without you."

He didn't answer, and I thought he was asleep. Then he said, "Jade, I could never survive the wild. I have been tame all my life and would not stand a chance against a predator or cowboys. I have never been taught how to find food in snow or a good water supply or decent shelter. It will be winter in a few months and I wouldn't be able to live through it without those skills. So captive I must stay."

I have a habbit of sulking. I sulked all night until I blinked somewhere around midnight, then it was dawn. What could well be my last night had rushed by me and I did not feel refreshed. Durango was already up, munching on a pile of hay that had been thrown in. I pushed myself up and joined him. Something told me my life was about to change again, but I supressed the feeling, it would do me no good just like he had said.

An hour later we were tacked up and mounted. I felt sick to the stomach since the colonel was riding me, so I would be at the front of the firing line. Durango was behind with Jones on his back. I felt quite sorry for my partner, it was like he said when we first met, I had taken over his position!

We cantered off into the distance in syncronised steps. By late afternoon we had arrived at a small piece of woodland. I experienced a brief glimmer of hope. Was it the same place I had found when I had run from the cimmaron all those months ago? But I couldn't find the tree I slept under, or the stream, so I felt even more deflated and forlorn. Durango noticed this and wanted to know what was wrong. I simply said I thought I was close to home, but I was mistaken.

We had never talked about my real home, and as we grazed I summed it up. When I mentioned my father his ears pricked up. When I had finished, he said that that was the stallion who let all the horses loose. The colonel had ridden him in the attack of the first Lakota village and on a scouting ride. They had chased him thorugh the gorge and watched him leap the great canyon. He remembered the Lakota boy riding him, and how the colonel had nodded in respect the horse. Ever since then the man had been better with horses and knew that he couldn't always get them to do as he wanted.

I was in a state of shock. So Durango's colonel, my colonel, was the one who tried to break my father? It was possible, but I had never thought it probable. My father claimed he was just trying to get home, but the truth of it that he was too embarrassed to mention was how he impacted many humans in the process.

I remembered a part of my parents' story. The colonel had shot my mother in the shoulder. If my father ever found out that Durango was his horse then he would never allow him to stay in the herd. I was suddenly faced with the cruelest choice of my life. There were now two reasons why I could only return home without my stallion. He might not survive the winter, and if he did, he would have to face the wrath of my father if he ever found out the thruth.

I couldn't sleep that night. I had a headache from my own worries and couldn't decide. If I worked something out in my head, there was always a "but" attatched to it. Finally I decided that the only option was to stay with man and be ridden for destruction.

In the morning we left before the sun was up. It took us only two hours to reach the village. We hid behind a hill while the battle plan was formed. I had half a mind to run over to the tribe and let them know we were there, but what good would that do. I gritted my teeth, and reminded myself that none of these humans mattered to me. Except Jones, just a little bit.

I sighed heavily. Here we go again, I thought. Something was just bound to go wrong for me. Again. My lungs still ached slightly from the fire and my legs were tired form the two day ride and hard training. Just one battle and it will be over, that was all I kept thinking.

As soon as the plan was finished, the men mounted again and we made our way onto the hill. A horn was sounded and we charged forward into a gallop. Already there were warriors emerging from tents, carrying axes, bows and arrows and sticks. At the time I had no idea what they were, but I knew they were aiming for me. But the colonel's seat was deep and relaxed, and he squeezed me on, reminding me that he was just as scared as I was. The colonel swung his sword, missing completely, but the Natives feared him. I kept running blindly, weaving between the tents. I was searching for Durango, neighing for him, begging him to tell me where he was.

 I felt the weight of the colonel lift from my back. He was out of the saddle, I knew it but I kept running. I hated the gunshots, I hated the humans, I just wanted to be free.

There was a shrill neigh of pain and I recognised