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Lost
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Chapter10
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"Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say ice
From what I have tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire."
-Robert Frost
Cora's head jerked up in fear as the heavy wooden door flew open with a resounding crash that echoed across the cabin. Annabel gave a yelp of alarm and rose to her feet. When she saw it was merely Nathaniel and Alice, she sat down at the table, clutching her heart.
Nathaniel gave Alice a severe grimace for having frightened the women but Alice did not notice. That, or she did not care too much.
Cora regarded her sister with bafflement, noting the smile that curved her pink lips, as well as her flushed cheeks.
Alice in turn ran to see the murky, broken looking glass that Annabel kept stored above the hearth and began to examine her features and her smooth hair.
Apparently she was disenchanted with the reflection as she pinched her cheeks, muttering that she was too pale.
"Are you… going somewhere?" asked Cora apprehensively, her dark eyes shooting between her sister and the tall American man.
"Yes," stated Alice distractedly.
"Where?" Cora pressed her sister.
"To the camp. The Lenape camp," she replied composedly, setting the shard of mirror back in place.
Cora dropped the hem of the dress she had been darning, shocked. "What- Where?" she demanded, disbelieving.
Alice looked at her sister impatiently, smoothing her apricot-colored dress for any imagined wrinkles.
"Nathaniel is taking me to the Delaware camp for a little while today. I shall be back shortly."
Cora was appalled and fixed her glare upon Nathaniel. "Was this your notion, Nathaniel Poe? Because if it was-"
"No, no…" said Alice soothingly. "I can assure you, sister, the idea was entirely mine."
Cora looked from Nathaniel who shrugged helplessly, to Annabel who was studying Alice in a curious manner, almost as if her sister were a particularly hard passage to read in a book. Finally to Alice who was standing restlessly, shifting from one foot to the other.
"But for heavens sake, Alice, why?" was Cora's final query.
Alice seemed at a loss as to what to say and twisted her fingers silently. This image tugged at her and Cora sorted through her memories, trying to recall through the distant haze. Recall when her sister use to do this. And Cora eventually did recall - it was whenever her sister was hiding something.
In the past, she would wind her fingers as she was questioned over silly things. Who broke Grandmother's urn? Did you sleep early as I bid you to?
Narrowing her eyes, Cora contemplated her sister long and hard. Then her flinty eyes turned to Nathaniel, who still stood at the entrance. She decided she would not question Alice, then, as she would remain stubbornly silent. Cora knew this.
But still… she felt betrayed. Alice had never withheld anything from her. Ever.
"I want you to please take care of Alice," said Cora in a cool voice to Nathaniel. "If anything were to befall my sister, Nathaniel, I will make sure to hold you accountable."
Nathaniel looked bad-tempered as he and Alice trudged past the thigh-high grass away from the Stewart farm, heading towards the Lenape village a mile away.
Nathaniel shook his head as if there were a gnat buzzing in his ear, a scowl settled on his tanned face.
He was already regretting this entire afternoon and knew a debacle could possibly take place at the camp; if the inhabitants were not in the mood to be very accommodating to the English girl. What could have possibly possessed him?…
His thoughts ran a marathon ahead of him.
Uncas would be overwhelmed, no doubt about it, and that emotion would lead to anger. Understandably so. He cringed, already imagining the sneer on Hopocan's face. Tankwawun… well, who cares about her?… but his father, on the other hand….
Cora had looked so upset with him. But he had promised to guard her troublesome little sister and he would. With his life.
Wheeling around, he spotted Alice a few steps behind him, panting as she tried to match his long-legged strides. Despite everything she looked lively and upbeat. She painted such a comely picture, her long golden hair whipping around her elfish face in abandon; her skin flushed with excitement and something else.
Nathaniel took a deep soothing breath and felt himself calming. Even though he knew he had let himself be talked into this by an 18 year old girl, he decided to make the best of it.
Alice latched onto Nathaniel's proffered arm gladly as they ventured deeper into the woods.
"Alice, do you see that bird?" Nathaniel had glanced at the creature as it flew past them, beating it's tiny wings madly.
"The sparrow?"
"We call it a tschechtschis."
Alice tried to sound it out but could not. Her English tongue butchered the word that sounded so pretty when Nathaniel said it.
They continued in this casual manner for a while longer, repeating Mohican numbers and words to each other and Nathaniel tested her.
"Nat… No, that does not sound right. Nasha…. Nahnioges.." Alice said self consciously, struggling with the pronunciation.
Nathaniel nodded approvingly. "Good. Three horses. It aint entirely correct but it will do, Miss."
"I am afraid I cannot conjugate." Alice apologized and Nathaniel shrugged, smiling.
"How would I refer to Cora? How do you say my sister?"
"Nkeck. If I were speaking to you or your sister, I would say keck - your sister," Nathaniel instructed.
"Alice," said Nathaniel during a lull in the conversation. "Stay close by me when we enter the camp. Do not act strange or point or gesture. Act as if you know where you are and what you are doing."
Alice felt a start of nervousness suddenly but she acquiesced. Nathaniel gave her a side-long look.
"My brother will be startled to see you… he may even look displeased. But I really would rather you talk to him, preferably somewhere out of the way."
Alice had not expected this, that Uncas would not wish to see her and this threw her into complete befuddlement. Was I mistaken? Surely not…
"Why are you telling me these things, Nathaniel?" she asked, disconcerted.
His eyes held hers in a gentle yet at the same time unyielding gaze.
"Because I am on your side. Why else?" he replied simply, then urged them a little faster, explaining dusk would soon intercept them and he would rather they be at the camp.
More minutes passed and Alice noticed imperceptible changes to the air that she would not have been cognizant of two months before. The faint smell of wood smoke, and the air had a subtle tang to it…
"We are approaching…" she murmured, more to herself, and thus missed the favorable look Nathaniel threw her way. He was impressed.
As they entered the threshold of the Lenape camp, Alice finally realized what Nathaniel had meant. The inhabitants looked completely astonished as they gazed upon her. They dropped what they were doing and stared.
Many children of various ages shouted excitedly and gesticulated towards her. Men and women watched her, frozen; some in curiosity, many in downright suspicion.
Despite her struggling to appear calm and collected per Nathaniel's overture earlier, Alice felt heat travel up her neck and even into her scalp.
"Apparently they do not see many Europeans?" she whispered.
"Of course they do, Alice. But none that would just come into their camp so freely," Nathaniel replied.
He nudged her forward and fully into the camp.
Away from the huts there was a spacious clearing used for games, sports, and storytelling by the Lenape people. Large elm trees shaded the enclosure, and it was ideal for physical activity.
It was here that a group of able-bodied young men were playing Pahsaheman, and a round deer skin stretched taught and filled with grass and chunks of hide was the focus.
The afternoon sun was still hot. Uncas, clad only in breech-clout and leggings, kicked the ball forcefully towards his young teammate.
The boy caught it with his foot and ran, hare-footed, to the opposite side of the field to kick the ball past the opposing team and into a hastily constructed net held aloft by wood beams.
A small number of women and girls cheered their husband's and brothers on as the ball was passed back and forth, the men tackling each other and laughing good naturedly.
Women could play as well and, in fact, several had joined the game, although the same rules did not apply to both genders. While the men could only kick it, the women could throw the ball as they pleased. The men were also forbidden from tackling the females but the women could, and did.
Uncas watched, doubling over with laughter as a very large, sullen looking girl ripped his friend's shirt off and threw him to the dusty ground.
Tankawun was on the opposing team to Uncas and she was surprisingly expeditious and agile, nimbly jumping over his fallen comrade with the ball in hand.
"Uncas," she called as she barreled towards the goal. She gave him a dimpled grin. "I will show you no mercy!"
They continued the game for a while longer until Uncas began to perspire from exhaustion and heat. Standing to the side, he mopped his dripping brow and neck with his calico shirt and tossed it over his shoulder.
"Wagion!" he called in Delaware to his childhood friend that had been knocked down.
Wagion approached Uncas, grumbling about the bulky female almost crushing him with her weight. Uncas laughed again at his friend's expression; he was in a good mood.
"She obviously wants me," said Wagion merrily, throwing on his now torn blue shirt.
Uncas agreed that yes, the girl was obviously in love.
"Why else would she try to kill you by sitting on you?" Uncas added.
During the middle of this light-hearted exchange, a younger boy of about 10 summers ran excitedly to the conversing pair, his eyes huge.
"Uncas… Hopocan says… he says…" The boy was beside himself. Uncas quirked an eyebrow up and urged him to calm himself.
The boy, Chappegat, nodded fervently then took a deep breath and expelled it. He seemed to recollect himself.
"Hopocan says that you must come now. There is a something you must see," Chappegat said solemnly.
"What is it?" asked Uncas, confused.
Chappegat bit his lip and shifted. "I cannot tell you. Hopocan says to just bring you, Uncas."
Uncas had never liked surprises or the promise of one. It was not Lenape custom to speak this way, so it made him wonder what was underfoot.
Chappegat was obviously bursting to tell Uncas as the three began to walk towards the camp.
"Chappegat, tell me," Uncas said gently. Then, "I will act surprised, really."
This reasoning seemed to work for the child and he grinned broadly. His voice was quiet with amazement as he said, "Your brother, Longe Carabine, brought a stranger into our camp."
Uncas frowned. Is it James? He urged Chappegat to describe the man as they neared the center of the camp.
"It's a Yengeese girl!" Chappagat exploded the words out. "She has moon-colored hair. She looks like one of the spirits!"
Uncas screeched to a halt, his heart beat pounding in his head. He had to have heard wrong. Perhaps the boy was playing a joke.
Wagion looked a good deal more interested in the conversation now.
"Is she dressed funny like the Yengeese?" asked Wagion eagerly, craning his neck around.
Chappagat nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, lots and lots of skirts. Long hair the color of corn. They were talking to Hopocan when I left. He speaks some of the Yengeese tongue."
Uncas could not believe what his brother had done. He had brought her, Alice Munro, to the heart of the Delaware camp. The people were bound to react with suspicion and his father would be displeased. Very, very displeased.
He was rooted to the ground momentarily in shock until Wagion pushed him gently, his eyes inquiring.
After a few more steps they saw Nathaniel speaking calmly with Hopocan who, predictably, looked very sly. A half circle of people had gathered to the side and were watching the proceedings.
Slightly behind his brother, he spotted Alice.
Uncas felt his stomach lurch slightly as he studied her. She looked different. To begin with, she was affecting an air of confidence and aloofness but he noted the dull flush on her face. She wore a light colored dress and her hair fell long in a showering curtain of gold.
Her skin was slightly sun-kissed from being outdoors for most of the day, he supposed, but it only made her dainty features more pronounced. Her eyes were still impossibly blue.
She was so incredibly lovely standing there, looking stubborn and embarrassed and proud, that for a long agonizing moment, words failed him. He watched as her eyes turned to his.
Uncas's face was impassive as he walked to his brother, trailed by Wagion and Chappagat.
Alice, meanwhile, was going through her own ordeal. Uncas was walking over to them quite casually and he was bare-chested, his dark, warm skin glinting from exertion. She felt the pink flush tint her face and neck, and a warmth began to creep up her legs and pool in her lower belly.
Alice was overwhelmed as she felt her entire body tremble fiercely, and she prayed for composure… and in that wild moment Alice remembered her father explaining to her as an awkward adolescent that she would feel strange things when she was older and, though the fruit of temptation was sweet, she must not consume it.
Nathaniel greeted his brother warmly, but his smile slipped down a notch when Uncas did not smile back. Nathaniel queried something to Uncas and Uncas replied shortly.
Alice, hearing them conversing in Mohican, felt very flustered and embarrassed as she knew they were more than likely discussing her.
The brothers bantered back and forth for a while longer, their unintelligible words coming out in rapid bursts. The older man, Hopocan Nathaniel had said his name was, had a look of wry amusement on his face, his obsidian eyes roving back and forth between the young men.
Alice took a deep breath to stop herself from crying. It was plain to her that Uncas did not want to see her at all. That she had made a mistake in coming here. To her horror, she could feel the tears of humiliation and pain building slowly and desperately tried to hold them at bay. She told herself that it was for the best, that she could no longer harbor such feelings for a red man, that perhaps she should return to London and the polite society she knew so well.
Hopocan glanced at her during this interval and, though he did not stop smiling, she fancied she saw a momentary flash of pity in the pools of his black eyes.
He studied her saddened face and nodded to himself. He then turned and interrupted the scene of contention beside him, saying short and forceful words.
Hopocan faced the female and regarded her seriously.
"You are welcome here, verily," he said, the accented English words gruff and halting. He gestured around the camp and made motions with his weathered hands, pantomiming eating.
"Thank you," Alice replied sincerely. "I do not know how to say it in your language."
"Wanishi," was his detached reply.
At this point she noticed an Indian man who was around Uncas's age smoothly step up to her from behind Hopocan.
"Wagion," he stated, thumping his chest. He thought hard momentarily and said, "Wagion…Thun…der…bird." The young man pointed to her and waited expectantly.
"Alice," she replied, giving Wagion what she hoped what was warm smile. Thunderbird… she mused…. how lovely.
The two continued to grin at each other awkwardly for some long moments until Hopocan gave Wagion an annoyed once-over and barked something in their language to him, pointing a long finger in the direction opposite them.
Whatever was said caused the young man's cheeks to heat and some of the women around them giggled. Without saying another word to her, Wagion walked away. Apparently he had been summarily dismissed from the group's presence.
A shadow fell on the ground beside her as Alice watched the back of Wagion disappear.
Glancing up quickly, she met the gaze of Nathaniel. He smiled at her but looked tense.
"Let us find you some supper.." he murmured. "We will go with Hopocan, to his dwelling."
Not much later, the group sat in the dwelling that Nathaniel had previously called a wigwam. Alice was surprised the sturdy little hut could fit so many. They were sitting or squatting in this constricted circle and Alice cast her eyes around the circumference of the group.
Hopocan sat calmly, partaking of the roasted meat his wife had previously provided.
Uncas and Nathaniel sat by each other looking very ill at ease but, out of sheer manners, she suspected, eating the fare silently.
Alice picked at the slab of meat in the bowl with her fingertips, trying in vain to rip some pieces off with minimal touching. She had eaten like this in the forest on the journey to the settlement.
If truth be told, this was an affront to her English sensibilities, eating food with her bare hands, and she refused to stuff her face and gnaw at it as the men did. She set the bowl down to her side, trying to wipe her greasy fingers on her dress unobserved.
At that moment the fabric covering at the entrance of the wigwam drew open and a young girl walked in.
Smiling brightly at the group, she posed a question to Hopocan, apparently asking if she could join and he acquiesced with a nod. The girl sat beside her facing the men.
Alice eyed the girl with curiosity; she looked to be around her own age. She was very pretty, her black hair beautiful and hung past her waist in two braids. Her doe-skin garments hung loosely on her body, skirt only reaching her knees.
Alice felt uncomfortable to see a young lady so exposed, but smiled at the girl and her heart lightened when the Indian maiden smiled back, touching her chest and saying,
"Tankawun."
"I am Alice."
The mutual exchange was comfortable enough, but she wondered why none of the men offered to translate for her and this girl, Tankawun. They were both intensely curious about each other, from the speculative glances one gave the other.
The brothers did not say a thing and in fact ignored the situation taking place across from them.
Hopocan, who had finished his meal and set his bowl in front of them, watched the girls idly.
For the first time since entering the Lenape camp, Alice felt at ease. The girl named Tankawun seemed bubbly and outgoing and constantly smiled at Alice as she conversed with the men.
Suddenly, Tankawun reached up and plucked a lock of Alice's fair hair, twisting it gingerly in her fingers. Alice smiled hesitantly and the girl grinned, saying something in her language and letting the lock of hair drop.
Alice gave a small shrug, unable to decipher Tankawun's words.
The Lenape girl looked vaguely frustrated at the lack of communication between her and Alice and looked around to the men.
Hopocan gave Uncas a pointed look and muttered something.
Without looking up Uncas said in a low voice, "Tankawun admires your looks that resemble moon-beams. She says your hair is pretty."
Alice stared at Uncas for a bit in silence, willing him to look up and when he didn't, she felt the beginning stirrings of annoyance. He had no right to be rude or make her feel unwelcome.
Sitting up straighter, Alice turned to the girl and thought back to the word Hopocan had said earlier was thank you. Wisha… or Washi… no…
"Wanishi, Tankawun," Alice said, hoping she hadn't just said something incredibly stupid.
Tankawun, however, looked absolutely delighted and clapped her hands, beaming at her.
"Wulelemil!" said Tankawun enthusiastically, grinning at the men.
Alice smiled at the girl but looked inquiringly at Nathaniel, seeking the definition of this word. Nathaniel looked amused by the two girls.
"Tankawun says 'wonderful!'" was Nathaniel's reply in a mirthful tone.
Even Hopocan afforded her a small smile. "Wishi. Good," he said.
Only Uncas kept his face completely straight and phlegmatic, finishing up the last of his meat before pitching the bowl forward and sitting back, inattentive.
Nathaniel looked surreptitiously from Alice to Uncas and thought, disheartened, that things were not going well.
Uncas was being more than a bit ungracious and Alice looked disgruntled and resentful, glaring outwards, her cobalt eyes imposing in the half-light of the wigwam; onto which the sun was casting its relinquishing rays.
Only Tankawun was behaving decently and the two girls were, quite bizarrely, talking to each other in their own languages without really understanding the other.
He had truly, fervently hoped that his brother and Alice would be able to find some common ground, but due to their mutual stubbornness this did not seem feasible.
Chingachgook sat in his wigwam, sharpening a bone and piece of antler to make an awl and a crude skewer. His gaze was intent and focused as he worked; across him sat Anicus, Hopocan's boy who was around 18 summers.
The boy was carving a flute made from the branch of a hickory tree, chatting away to Chingachgook. The elder man, for the most part, listened but not too attentively as he was consumed with his own work. Anicus talked too much, yet Chingachgook was nonetheless fond of him.
"Anicus, where is your father?" asked Chingachgook in Lenape once the young man had paused for breath. Hopocan had gone out for a bit much earlier and had failed to return, which struck the Mohican man as odd.
"I am not sure…" mused Anicus. "I will find him for you."
He stood up and pulled the flap of the wigwam up, stepping out into the dusky light.
For the minutes that he was gone, Chingachgook reflected on the last year as a whole. He was well into middle-age, he knew, and now his thoughts were more and more preoccupied with his two sons. They were good sons, he knew. The Master of Life had rewarded him thus. But it was almost a year now that he had started discussing with Uncas - the idea of him finding a wife.
Uncas knew he needed to find a woman sooner rather than later and begin a family. It was last summer that Uncas had agreed with his father and Chingachgook felt his aged mind ease with his son's compliance; as well as his show of wisdom.
Nathaniel was a different matter entirely. His white son had a restless spirit, like a wolf calling out to the moon. He had always been a wanderer and Chingachgook had already reached the point where he had begun to worry for his older child; worry that he would fritter away his youth instead of walking a natural path.
Chingachgook was gladdened that Nathaniel was now seeking to settle down and set down roots with the dark haired Yengeese girl. Nathaniel had told him that they had been discussing marriage, but the girl wanted to wait a few more moons.
Uncas was likewise contented for his brother and Chingachgook prayed that soon his young son would find a woman to make a life with, that he would find the same happiness as his brother.
Chingachgook's hands stilled on his work as he recalled the earlier conversation with Uncas about the golden haired girl. He reflected that, in fact, his son was being honest but, if truth be told, he did not think Uncas' feelings for the light haired girl were a passing infatuation. He knew this because Uncas did not do anything half-heartedly. His feelings did not vacillate.
Chingachgook would have found it more believable if Uncas had professed to his father undying love for that strange, frail girl, instead of telling him that the feelings had been fleeting and all had been concluded.
But then again, Chingachgook reflected, too many times young love lacked wisdom. The flames of youthful passion are always the brightest. That is why they burn out the quickest, his father had once told him in the distant days of his own long-ago youth.
Lifting his head up slowly at the sound of footsteps. Chingachgook awaited the return of Anicus.
The flap again was tossed aside and the young man entered with a most singular expression on his face. Chingachgook, skilled as he was at reading people, saw that Anicus was somewhere between amused and astonished.
"Is something amiss?" asked Chingachgook austerely.
Anicus looked slightly embarrassed, as if he was not sure how to gauge how the older man would react. There was a long pause as the boy seemed to search for words.
Chingachgook, never one to respect indolence in words, frowned.
"Speak," He ordered unsparingly.
Anicus reddened and said hesitatingly, "I found my father emerging from our dwelling with both your sons and… a girl."
Chingachgook was genuinely confused. "Girl?" he prodded.
The young man nodded and seemed to be choosing his words. "Yes… a Yengeese girl with gold hair."
It was a rarity, indeed, for someone to astound Chingachgook, and Anicus, feeling slightly smug, knew he had succeeded in shocking the fierce Mohican, even though his elder's expression did not betray him.
Without changing the inflection of his voice or even his countenance, Chingachgook bade the boy to continue.
"It seems your elder son brought her here. I am not sure of the reason. But the camp talks of nothing else. That is why Father did not come back. They all met in our wigwam."
Chingachgook uncoiled himself from his cross-legged position and stood so quickly and agilely that Anicus was startled.
"Show me," was Chingachgook's imperious command.
He followed, inexorable, after the fleet-footed youth as he hurried out of the wigwam.
Outside, the people who had previously crowded the wigwam were now standing together as the day drew to a close, the sky was still bright but streaked with orange and red.
Alice craned her head up and peered at the breath-taking sunset, knowing her time to depart was approaching. All in all her time at the camp had been… while not altogether enjoyable, she had passed the time tolerably.
Hopocan she had warmed to instantly and, even though she had the distinct impression that he was constantly mocking her, she sensed no malice behind it.
The girl, Tankawun, had been so sweet and pleasant to her. Alice truly enjoyed her company except…
Alice shifted uneasily.
She had noticed little things passing between the lovely girl and Uncas. Alice, inexperienced as she was with regards to men, still had been somewhat acquainted with the art of flirting in London. She had always been very demure, however. One male acquaintance back home had once told her that this was her most arresting charm - her innocence. Alice had never understood his meaning.
Alice, although she could not understand the language, recognized the coquetry in Tankawun's words and gestures. She was not very subtle with the tilt of her head whenever Uncas spoke, or the teasing arch to her voice. Only with Uncas.
Alice watched Tankawun and Uncas discreetly and could not help but feel Uncas was much more relaxed and open now; and it bothered her not knowing if this was due to Tankawun or if the shock of her sudden appearance in the camp had merely worn off.
Uncas responded just then to something Tankawun had asked and the girl laughed melodiously, touching her smooth palm to his arm and nodding.
Alice fought down the wave of… something… that was creeping up her throat. She felt her face color and knew it was not due to the ebbing heat.
Taking a deep breath and expelling it slowly, Alice pondered her feelings and the significance as the Indians continued conversing.
On the one hand, she would not allow herself to resent the girl for flirting with Uncas. This was natural. They were of the same race… and Alice had been inexcusably foolish, stupid, naïve and presumptuous in assuming Uncas might still harbor any shred of affection for her.
Tankawun, still touching Uncas' bare arm, turned and laughingly regarded Alice and for a moment, frozen in time, their eyes locked and they seemed to understand each other.
Alice hurriedly put a wan smile on her face, but not before the other girl caught her naked expression and slowly slid her hand down from Uncas, shooting them both quick looks. This time it was she who could not smile.
"My father approaches," muttered Nathaniel, who had stood beside her the entire time.
Alice felt herself cringe and then recoil in dismay, realizing somewhat in a daze that she had hardly given antecedence to the stern Mohican man almost the entire time she had been at the camp, and had taken his unaccounted presence completely for granted.
It had been hard for Alice to forget Chingachgook and his unsmiling, unsettling gaze. The way he had stared through her with his unfathomable black eyes, his commanding presence and the way his grown sons obeyed him without thought.
Standing there under the dying sun, Alice was again faced with his peremptory as Chingachgook drew silently up to them, his black eyes trained onto her.
Wearing an animal pelt of some type draped over him, the older man was unchanged from weeks previous. He calmly looked around at the entire group and no one spoke. Only Hopocan looked unconcerned.
Chingachgook broke the silence and shifted his gaze at Nathaniel, saying in English -
"Explain why you did this."
Alice again felt her face flame and looked downward. Tankawun looked around, confused, at the other people.
"Father, I brought her here because she asked me to," Nathaniel replied, looking uncomfortable. "That is the truth. The blame is mine."
Chingachgook did not appear angered or even bothered, but it did not matter. His gaze was still inhibited as he continued to study her.
"Why have you come?" he asked her suddenly, this time a frown appearing on his forehead, connecting his eyebrows severely.
Alice quailed and then rallied herself, searching desperately for a solid reason besides the truth. As in, I am sorry, but I cannot stop thinking of your handsome son. Shaking her head to herself at this absurdity, she settled on a half-truth, or an almost-truth, as it were.
"I came to see how you all were faring," was her final answer.
The frown still firmly in place, Chingachgook shook his head shortly as if disdaining her dubiousness. He reverted back to his native tongue and spoke to his sons, effectively ignoring Alice.
Alice felt so hurt and embarrassed that she wanted nothing more than to run from this wretched camp entirely and never return.
Uncas didn't even care… she thought, stricken. From the looks of it he had already quite forgotten her… even though, in her heart of hearts, Alice knew the blame lay at her feet for her cruel words and indecisiveness.
Unbeknownst to Alice, Uncas was observing her as his father tersely lectured his brother in Mohican over his actions, and he noted her sadness. Uncas was conflicted at this point but regardless, it was difficult watching her dejection.
He had already spoken to his father about Alice Munro and could not go back on his word. He knew he had not followed the correct path when he had spent all those days and nights thinking of her beautiful hair and eyes and forgetting his father's wisdom.
"I beg your pardon," Alice suddenly said in a low voice, eyes grounded. "I thank you all for…welcoming me but as it is quite late I must return to the Stewart's. I will go alone. Thank you."
She mumbled the last bit and before anyone could fully register what she had said, the girl turned on her heel and shot up the path leading back to cabin; it would be a very long walk and night was approaching.
Nathaniel swore under his breath and made to start after her, but Chingachgook ordered him to stop. Nathaniel took a deep breath before replying,
"Father, forgive me must I must go after her. I cannot allow a defenseless girl to run into the woods by herself. It's not safe."
"I agree," replied Chingachgook impatiently. His gaze turned to Uncas.
"Uncas. Go after her and see her safely home."
Uncas felt Tankawun stiffen imperceptibly beside him.
"Take your rifle with you, Uncas," Nathaniel said in a low voice.
Without waiting for his son's reply, Chingachgook muttered something to Hopocan and the two older men started towards Chingachgook's wigwam. Hopocan was smiling with satisfaction as he led the way.
Uncas quickened his pace once he got into the woodland, trying to shake the feeling he had of Tankawun's gaze burning into him as he went after Alice.
Alice was swifter than he had given her credit for; with those ridiculous skirts and impractical shoes. He ran soundlessly through the forest and soon he could hear her clumsily making her way through the trail… making as much noise as possible, apparently.
He saw her golden tresses first, predictably, then he watched as she struggled to run faster, clutching fistfuls of the skirts that obviously hindered her movements.
"Alice," he called out. She slowed but did not stop.
Losing patience he quickly gained on her and clamped a brown hand around her arm, forcing her to stop.
Alice, upon feeling his strong fingers curl around her forearm like a steel band fought the tingling feeling of awareness his touch brought and skidded to a halt. Wheeling around she quickly extricated her arm from his grasp, looking at him with disapproval.
She watched with some satisfaction as surprise registered on his face at her unexpected temper and he watched her warily, not saying anything.
"I do not require you to escort me, sir," Alice said indignantly. She knew she was being childish in calling him sir; he hated to be referred to as such by her.
As the silence stretched on between them like a chasm, Alice felt herself fill with emotion.
She willed him to say anything to her at all, even curse her, not this silence that was breaking her heart.
He nodded his head instead to the trail before them and urged her silently on.
Alice turned and walked on, making sure to keep her pace in front of him. For several long minutes she walked, and all she could hear was her breathing and the drumming of her heart in her ears. She did not even know what she wanted, not truly. She felt so bewildered.
The sky was dark blue as they reached the end of the path. She could see the smoking chimney in the distance.
Alice took a deep breath of the balmy night air and thought… home.
"Alice," said Uncas, his voice deep and pleasing to her.
"Yes?"
"Why did you come to the camp?"
"To see you."
There was a long, palpable pause as Uncas considered these words. Both of them had paused and were looking away from each other.
Uncas sighed and turned his eyes to Alice, who looked unearthly with the dark blue light, making her face shine eerily.
Before he could stop himself, he put a callused hand to her cheek, stroking his thumb across her soft skin. He watched with interest and her eyes drifted shut and she slowly covered his hand with one of her own.
Uncas felt his mouth go as parched as kindle when she touched him, but he needed to ask.
"Why did you want to see me?" he inquired gently. She was silent for so long that Uncas thought she had not heard him properly, or she would not deign to answer.
"I miss you."
Uncas did not know what to say to that whispered confession. He could only sort through his feelings and the fact that he felt something akin to sudden relief. Because he had wanted to hear those words from her mouth for a very long while indeed.
"I should not have spoken to you thus, before," Alice continued. "It was wrong of me. I did not mean it."
He knew she was referring to the day he went after her in the woods, the day he had awakened from his fever brought on by his injuries.
Alice laced her fingers with his and kissed his palm gently. She looked up at him, craning her neck back, her large blue eyes locked onto his.
Uncas lost track of how long they stared at each other silently. He saw the yearning in her eyes that matched his own. Without giving him time to react, Alice craned her neck up and covered his mouth with her own.
Uncas was surprised and stunned for several moments until he felt a slight tremor from her.
He sensed the inexperience behind her actions and her caresses. As always, it was her innocence that undid him so thoroughly. He kissed her back and gathered her small frame into his arms; Alice wound her arms around his neck and slid her lips down his throat with a sigh.
At this, Uncas drew back and regarded her seriously, trying to shake loose the cobwebs of desire from his mind. This could not go on. Uncas knew this, and his voice was husky and reserved when he conveyed this.
Alice was panting and he could see the rosy hue blooming in her cheeks in the near darkness.
"What do you mean?" she whispered, dropping her arms from around him and shakily smoothing her hair.
"You know this. You said it yourself before. It is not meant to be."
"What…"
"An Indian and a white woman."
He saw her face slacken with shock as she stared up at him. Apparently she had not expected him to speak so directly. Alice's eyes were bewildered and she looked around her, blinking confusedly.
To his dismay, he saw tears build in her eyes as she gasped, trying to fight them down.
"Alice…" he said, reaching up to touch him, guilt consuming him.
"No," she choked out, the tears pouring out onto her cheeks. "Do not touch me."
Her teeming eyes narrowed and he knew with certainty that she had taken refuge in anger instead of grief. Such was the nature of human beings when they seek to preserve themselves.
"It did not take long for you to forget me," she whispered haltingly.
"You told me this same thing before, except your words were cruel," Uncas replied evenly. He was not angry, but he knew he spoke the truth.
"And yet, you have found a replacement rather quickly, have you not?" she fired back.
"What?"
"That girl. Tankawun. Do you deny it?"
Uncas fell silent. He had not expected her to be so astute. Although to be honest, astuteness was not necessary. All one needed were eyes to notice the way the Lenape girl fawned over him and was overly demonstrative.
Alice took his silence as assent and she began to sob, rushing past him. He reached out a hand to halt her and she side-stepped it.
"Leave me! I do not wish to see you again. You have found your future bride and I will not interfere," she said, then regarded him silently a moment longer.
"I curse the day I set foot in this land and met you."
With that she spun and ran down the path towards the cabin. Uncas did not follow, only watched to ascertain that she had safely entered. His mind wheeled in confusion and the commencement of regret.
He could not go back on what he had told his father.
After an interminable time, long after she had entered the safety of the cabin and slammed the door, Uncas turned and began his slow, solitary walk back to the camp.
Longest chapter yet, I hope you are enjoying this thus far. Please R&R.
Important A/N
My beta and I have been discussing something for quite some time and she suggested I get your input. Lemons in this story… yay or nay? I have nothing against lemons and enjoy a (well written) one, I just have never attempted one. Generally speaking they are not always conducive or even necessary to a story, but I find myself intrigued with the idea and have toyed with it in my mind. Still, I would like some insight, readers. Should I go there?