The sound of a plate clattering to the ground caused Anne to jolt awake. Her eyes snapped open, her first instinct to be rushing around before Richard woke to make his breakfast. But, that was behind her. Antinanco had taken her to his village where she had settled in a longhouse, a suitable space once the baby arrives. The clatter however unsettled her. Antinanco had left to look for Mary with his scouts. They had picked up word of her being in Boston so, prompted by Anne, he had gone to investigate.

When her eyes adjusted, she rolled over, uncomfortably, to see three native women rummaging through her belongings.

"Hey!" She called out, trying to sit up and grunting from the exertion. "What do you think you're doing?!"

The women looked between each other and continued on, gathering cloth, cooking utensils and food into their arms.

"That's mine! Stop!" She yelled, unable to get out of bed to physically take back her things. "Leave that be! Put it back!"

The women turned to leave, still in possession of Anne's belongings, when a fourth women entered the longhouse. She had braided hair on either side, loose dark strands framing her stern features. Her lip curled back and barked something at them which Anne didn't understand. The women seemed intimidated by her but retaliated with an argument of their own. However, after being furiously yelled at by this woman, the three women hastily put Anne's things back, approximately, where they were and scurried out like cockroaches with a torchlight on them.

"Thank you," Anne said as the woman approached her.

"Not to worry," she smiled, "they are troublemakers, those three."

"What were they saying?"

"They said you did not belong here," the woman sighed, "that you were a curse on this village."

"Oh," Anne set her head back against the pillow.

"Do not listen to them," the woman told her, "I know Antinanco well and he loves you so much. You do belong here, just as much as him."

"Thank you," she repeated, "what's your name?"

"Kaniehí:io," she replied.

"Kah... Kehn..." Anne attempted the name, blushing red as she failed.

A faint, mournful smile played on the woman's face.

"Just call me Ziio," she told her.

Anne nodded, then suddenly winced as the baby began to protest.

"I know a remedy," Ziio said as she collected items from the shelves, "it helped me when I was with child. It will soothe the discomfort."

The young woman watched from the bed as Ziio set about gathering the ingredients, crushing them into a bowl and pressing out the liquid.

"Here, drink this," she said, lifting Anne's head back and gently pouring the liquid into her mouth.

"Uh, it's bitter," Anne mutter, wiping her mouth.

"But it will help," Ziio smiled.

"Why are you doing this?" Anne asked as she relaxed, lying back and facing the ceiling. "Why do you not keep your distance like the others?"

"You think yourself alone, do you not?"

Anne shrugged.

"Nearly. My sister had disappeared, my father is away and my mother is dead. All I have is Antinanco and this baby. When he's not here, I feel helpless and abandoned... But I know he'll come back. Just temporarily, I feel alone."

"I know, so did I."

"But you have your family, your people," Anne frowned, "how can you feel alone?"

At that moment, a small voice cried out from outside. Ziio replied, returning the call in her native tongue. At the sound, a young boy entered the room, his eyes set on Ziio. As he saw Anne, he timidly stood behind Ziio, clutching her skirts.

"My son," Ziio explained, "Ratonhnhaké:ton."

As the young boy, around three or four years of age peered out from behind his mother, Anne noticed how his skin colour and his features didn't quite match that of the native people of the village. Sure, he resembled his mother remarkably, but there was something else about him.

"When I had him, he was born from a white man," Ziio explained, "his father was not from this village. I was shunned, I felt I did not belong here either. I felt alone."

"And how do you feel now?"

Ziio knelt down to where her son stood and put her hands up to his cheeks, staring deep into his eyes. She gently kissed the top of his head as he giggled and attempted to wriggle free as she wrapped her arms around him.

"I have forgotten what feeling alone is like," she smiled, "my son means everything to me."

Anne returned the smile and placed her hands over her belly, feeling the small movements of the growing child. When the baby was born, she would know the same love that Ziio felt for Ratonhnhaké:ton and she would never feel alone again.

29th October 1760, Kanatahséton, Mohawk Valley

The sound of the scream ripped across the whole village, causing all unsuspecting dwellers to drop whatever they were doing in shock. It was busy in the longhouse. Antinanco sat beside the screaming woman, red in the face with sweat dripping from her brow as her face contorted in pain. She gripped his hand, causing him to cry out in pain from the vicelike hold she had on him. Native women rushed about with bowl of water and blankets, all under the order of Ziio who pressed damp cloth after damp cloth to Anne's forehead. It seemed to take forever before the cry of such a small thing split through the air.

Breathless and overwhelmed, Anne beckoned for the whimpering baby to be put in her arms.

"What did I tell you," Antinanco told her. "A boy."

"You were right," she whispered, her finger tracing the child's features, "a beautiful little boy."

"Who's eyes do you think he has?" Antinanco asked as the child, his tiny limbs wriggling about, blinked to see the beaming face of his mother.

"I can't tell," Anne replied, "maybe yours, maybe mine."

"What will you call him?" Ziio asked, entranced by the sight, recalling the birth of her own son.

"Nathan," Anne said firmly, "he looks like a Nathan to me."

"Then Nathan it shall be," Antinanco confirmed and leant towards the boy, extending a finger.

Nathan's tiny hand wrapped around his father's finger, content in holding it as tight as physically possible for a child so small. Antinanco couldn't even breath, he just watched the small baby gurgle as it continued to wiggle about and clutch his finger.

Just then, a Mohawk hunter burst through the door, ignoring the commands to stay out from Ziio. He said something to Antinanco who replied, nodding his thanks.

"What's happened?" Anne asked as the Mohawk hunter left, ushered out by a fuming Ziio.

"Your sister was found in Boston-"

"Oh, that's marvellous!" She cried.

"She is in the Boston jail." He finished and Anne paled. "She was convicted of murdering your husband and her trials have been... Inconclusive."

"So there's hope? She can be released, right?"

"Maybe, her final hearing is tomorrow. I intend to leave right away to bring her back here."

"Oh, thank you, Antinanco!" Anne cried, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

Little Nathan, sensing his father's intent to leave, released his hold on his finger.

"We'll be right here when you get back," Anne said as he stood.

"You never leave my side," he replied, kissing the top of her head as she felt the carved necklace beneath her dress.