The Red Water

By Mike Bartholomees

The Red Water is a tale of courage and perseverance in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds. Khoto Wilstock embarks on a dangerous journey to learn the truth that could save his people, his home and his way of life. The Red Water has not visited his land for four generations and legend has replaced fact. Water, the life blood of the ancient Chartoc Mountains and all it's inhabitants, has mysteriously turned bitter. The spring thaw has raised the level of the majestic Crystal river to near flood stages over a month early. Trees are suddenly dieing in Middle Country and the Lotbar are unable to stop the devastation. The cry of war has plunged both Lotbar and Thomlin into terror and unstoppable destruction. Khoto believes all these events are somehow intertwined. Together with a small human, Khoto attempts the impossible. It is a powerful and complusively readable story about how a tiny, average creature can make a difference when willingness is combined with action to overcome fears.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 19, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479727780

Mike Bartholomees

Mike Bartholomees has been an avid outdoor enthusiast and sportsman for most of his life. He has worked in the fields of education, business and health care administration. He currently lives in Kansas where he is working on several fictional projects.

Book preview

The

Red Water

Mike Bartholomees

Copyright © 2012 by Mike Bartholomees.

ISBN:          Softcover                                 978-1-4797-2777-3

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4797-2778-0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

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119047

Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 1

The dark fir forest was coming to life. The deep snow that held the ancient Chartoc mountains in it’s wintry grip had begun to form trickles and small rivulets of crystal clear water that joyously sang soft melodies in the High Country. The impatient spring thaw was racing over a month early down hill like a yearling fawn kicking it’s heels at every stone. Each icicle added it’s dripping rhythm to the boisterous sound of spring.

Eventually, all the frolicking streams that began at the top of the world on three separate mountains grew into one of the three forks of the Crystal River, the East, the West and the Middle. In turn, these three rambunctious, undisciplined forks merged into one magnificent, majestic river. There the current flowed mightily and with strong purpose. The Crystal made its way regally through the Low Country mostly in deep, reverential silence broken only by an occasional soft murmur.

This mystical land where the three forks became one at the origin of the Low Country is the home of Khoto Wilstock. Khoto is a Thomlin. Not an especially big Thomlin, not overly brave, not terribly bright, not very swift of foot, nor a singer of fine tunes, nor notably handsome; Khoto was comfortably average. About half the size of a stout field mouse, Thomlin make up for their tiny stature in tenacity and perseverance. Gifted artists, but not in a traditional sense, they possess an eye for detail and have the uncanny ability to change their appearance to match that of their surroundings. Observers of colors, and textures and hues, their tiny bodies become the canvas upon which masterpieces suddenly appear.

The Wilstock Clan, a number far too large for simple mathematical calculation, have always lived on the banks of the Crystal River. High above the flood line, encompassed by a garrison of lichen encrusted boulders, grows an ancient cottonwood tree. Here, every Wilstock that has ever been, since the formation of the vast, dark fir forest that densely covered the Chartoc mountains, lived out their days. Deep in the hollow core of this great tree thrives the heart of the Thomlin community. Outside this tree, on the canvas of life, is painted a typical pastoral scene of rocks, flowers and little gardens. Inside resonates a vast network of manufacturing enterprises, shops, churches, schools, eateries, entertainment district and government offices. Outside is peaceful and serene. Inside is anything but peaceful and never serene.

The political machine that makes the important decisions for the community is composed of a twenty member Elder Board who are chosen by the community. It is from one of the open forum discussion meetings the Elder Board regularly holds that Khoto and his best friend Donnar are now returning.

I just don’t understand, Donnar said shaking his head. There are so many important, pressing issues facing our community. Why are our elected—selected officials spending their and our valuable time and resources discussing such a mundane event as an early spring thaw? I, for one, view this as a good thing not a negative thing requiring further research and debate.

I don’t know, said Khoto quietly. They must believe it’s important for them to place it on the meeting agenda.

You’re such a soft, compliant sort of chap Khoto Wilstock, Donnar complained. Don’t you have any fight in you at all? You’re so… so… trusting.

They were leisurely making their way out of the meeting hall winding down past shops and restaurants. Donnar ushered Khoto into one of his favorite watering holes that they were passing along the way.

But isn’t that how the system works? Khoto continued as Donnar ordered two glasses of the sweet early spring water. We select men and women whom we trust to make decisions on our behalf. People who have our best interest at heart.

How can you say they have our interests and not theirs at heart after today’s session? ‘Early spring’ for crying out loud. Donnar was getting very excited and very loud. Khoto motioned with his hands for him to both calm and quiet down. What about the Lotbar uprising in the Middle Country? They threaten our very lives. Word is that they plan to expand their territories to gain more land to grow more food; land along our Crystal River.

And the Elders have been discussing that. Do you realize the spring thaw is over a month early this year? Khoto said sipping his water. That has never happened before in the history of the forest.

It is strange, isn’t it? Donnar admitted raising his glass of sweet, pure early spring water. I look forward to this water every year. I wait all winter for that first delicious, cold, sweet, pure drink. Here’s to a glorious official end to winter.

The Lotbar uprising is certainly serious but we hear rumors that they threaten expansion of their territory every few years, Khoto said looking around. There were very few individuals moving about in the community center for this time of year. Normally it would be packed with shoppers, workers and others like themselves returning from the adjourned session; stopping at the watering hole to drink winter water; just milling about talking with friends. This early spring thaw has many Thomlin concerned. Look around! Everyone is out of doors already. The snow is gone from everywhere but the deep shadows. You have to go all the way up to Middle Country to find any significant snow and it’s melting fast there. They are marking the river for flood stage as we speak.

Yuck! screamed Donnar through an ugly, contorted face. Now this should be an agenda item on the next session of the Elder Board. Pointing to his glass of water he launched the word ‘this’ sideways with a capital TH. I want to see the manager of this establishment. This water tastes bitter. Here, I’m all set for that unique flavor of early thaw water and what does my tongue get rewarded with? His voice trailed off as he disappeared around the corner, glass in hand, face contorted, looking for the manager.

Khoto decided to head outside to join his family and friends. Last year at this time there were still deep and dangerous drifts of snow being blown about by bitterly cold and vicious winds. The Thomlin would have at least another month of staying indoors tending their fires, eating dried mushrooms, nuts and berries that had been stored for the long winter. Instead, this year most were outside cleaning and preparing gardens for an early planting. Some were busy checking roofs for winter storm damage. Kites with colorful tails could be seen darting across the great blue sky and birds could be overheard singing joyous love songs.

For Khoto, however, the strong pull on his heart had always