8 August
Through the spyglass, Alice watched both armies file out to meet each other on the still smoldering battlefield. Similarly, spectators from the other army stood by the lake, some watching silently while other taunted the British soldiers.
"Can I have a look?"
Alice handed Cora the spyglass. As her sister studied the battlefield, Alice studied her in turn.
"Goodness. You look like you've slept on the floor of the stockade."
Without looking away, Cora flicked her tangled hair over her shoulder and sighed. "I would hardly call it sleeping. Could you?"
"A bit." A smile threatened to tug on her lips, so she hurried on to hide it. "Not that we tried—I mean not that I tried to... very much. That is, it was so very loud, you see." She winced at her blabbering; lack of sleep had clearly made her a dullard.
Cora, however, only murmured a vague agreement, clearly not listening as she frowned at something.
Alice squinted at the other spectators, trying to spot what Cora did. "What is it?"
"Oh. Nothing."
Cora shifted the spyglass left, focusing where Papa marched to the center of the field, but Alice remained intent on the people standing by the lake. Indians, soldiers, Canadiens; what was out there that drew her sister's attention? A feeling of foreboding gripped her until Cora huffed.
"Popinjay."
Even from this distance, Alice caught the last of what appeared to be an extremely elaborate bow by the French general, the Marquis de Montcalm. Their father responded with a perfunctory removal of his hat and inclination of his head.
Alice smiled. He never had the patience for such nonsense.
"Ha. He's putting Montcalm in his place." Cora returned the spyglass to Alice. "Is that Bougainville to Montcalm's left?"
Peering through it, Alice spotted the man. "Yes, I believe so. Do you remember him?"
"Vaguely. Some ball or another. He attended the French ambassador, did he not?"
"Yes, for a time. Secretary to Mirepoix."
"A fool, as I recall."
"He was brought into the Royal Society, on account of his work on calculus."
"Ah, well." Cora folded her arms, the wind blown out of her sails. "Damn."
Alice smiled, but it fell away as she returned to the proceedings. "He's reading a missive... now Duncan's checking it. Whatever it is, I don't think we like it. Now we're turning away—wait! Montcalm has taken Papa's arm. Oh, what's he saying?"
She watched in tense silence, but the flags flapped in the wind behind the officers made it difficult to read the situation. The British officers conferred amongst themselves. The moment her father looked beyond his subordinates to the ramparts of he fort, she knew.
Alice pulled back from the eyeglass in astonishment. "He's going to surrender."
"What?!" Cora snatched it away to see for herself. "He's threatened to hang any who talk of surrendering."
Alice felt the situation was hopeless, though she did not expect her father to cede to anything. The missive had to be crushing, but perhaps the terms were favorable for him to accept.
Turning, she saw a group of people had gathered around them to listen to her commentary. Suddenly uncomfortable, she stood by as her sister confirmed her prediction.
"They're drawing up papers. Can you believe it? The French had a desk at the ready. The audacity." Cora handed the spyglass to a curious spectator. "Well, that's that then."
They waited until their father marched back into the fort to confirm the terms of the surrender. He said nothing to the curious bystanders, who would have to get their news elsewhere, and went straight into his quarters.
Alice and Cora followed after, closing the door behind them in silence.
He turned to them, a beaten down shell of a man. Everything he had fought for in the last two years, all the lives lost to keep this corner of the lake for England—all for naught.
"We leave tomorrow for Edward."
Cora tensed, not ready to relax just yet. "Who's 'we'?"
"Every soul in this fort."
"The French take no prisoners?"
"None."
Alice wilted with relief, finally releasing all tension that had been building within her ever since the attack on the George Road. Uncas would be safe—everyone would now be safe—it was better than she could have dreamt of. "Well then, that is fortunate indeed."
Papa inclined his head, though he remained perfectly solemn. "We march fully armed beneath or our colors."
"Why would Montcalm cede so much?" Cora folded her arms suspiciously as he nodded at her in approval.
"Eager to push the advantage. I suspect he'll waste no time in leveling the fort, and be on our heels in a trice. Webb has made a grave error."
"But we are saved!" Alice looked from her sister to her father, both wearing dower expressions. Why did they worry about such things as if they mattered? Their part in this was over—finally, over. Did they not see what a marvel it was to make it out of this place alive?
"And what of Nathaniel Poe?"
Alice's heart dropped, ashamed to have forgotten of Nathaniel's fate.
"He'll be brought along, of course. Just because we have lost honor this day, does not mean we forget justice too."
Cora had heard enough. She walked out the door without a backward glance, though surely she was just as exhausted as Alice.
"Papa..."
"Don't you start too, my dear."
"Can't you see what this does to Cora?"
He dismissed the thought. "She's still young; she'll forget him in time."
"That isn't always so. What of my mother? You both were younger than I when you first asked for her hand. She never forgot you."
He paused, shoulders drooping. "Aye. So it was. But I returned her troth when her father forbad the union, as a man ought. What's more, he was right to do so."
She blinked at this pragmatic recounting of her parents' romance. Papa had only ever expounded on her mother's virtues. Somehow, despite the fact that eventually her father had wed another, Alice never doubted that theirs was a true love that managed to survive two decades of separation on the strength of destiny alone. A schoolgirl's fantasy.
"If we had wed then, we would have been penniless until her father died. My only error was in not making clear our parting was final before I left for the army."
"But you loved her."
"Yes, and was I ever so pleased to find her willing to give me another chance. But I loved Cora's mother too, and would have been happy to spend my life with hers, had she not passed away so young."
Alice frowned, coming to terms with the idea that her father had more than one great love of his life. It should not have shocked her, but she had somehow determined the merit of her argument—even the merit of her existence—on this one glorious relationship.
"Your mother would have been far better off had she married young, married well."
"Better off if she hadn't had me." She muttered darkly under her breath, but Papa still heard her.
"That is not what I said."
His sudden rebuke had an edge that knocked her out of her self-pity.
"You are a gift, and I won't hear otherwise." He waited, as if expecting her to argue back. When she didn't, he sighed. "'Tis a good thing this happened to Cora and not you. You have too much of your mother's constancy, for what good it may do you. Cora will recover, and be the stronger for it."
Her face flushed, but she said nothing regarding her own affairs. "Not from this, Papa. You underestimate her feelings. She will never forgive you."
"So be it. A good life is not built on love alone. If this is what keeps her from making a dire mistake, then I will accept the consequences." He opened a cabinet that held a bottle of brandy, then seemed to think better on it and shut the door with a bit more force than necessary. Though it may feel like the end of a very long day for her Papa, a new one was just beginning. "A trapper, Good God. The moment he and his family stepped foot in this fort, they've done nothing but stir up trouble."
Alice's heart picked up in alarm. "His family has nothing to do with it!"
"Ha! You didn't hear that brother of his."
Her eyes went wide. "What did he say?"
He paused, having to think on it. "Well... I didn't like his tone."
She relaxed at his begrudging answer. Clearly it was nothing bad at all.
A knock sounded on the door. Papa looked to it, his face a mask of a Colonel's once more.
"Enter!"
Captain Beams did so, and gave her father a status report on the preparations: inventories of supplies, assessments of the sick and injured who'd remain behind, and general head counts.
Alice was left to her own devices as they then went over documents that couldn't be carried, and thus destroyed. Too tired to contemplate wandering the fort, she assisted in feeding papers to the flames until the task was completed, then collapsed onto the bed. She barely noticed when Cora joined her.
Upon Uncas's return, Chingachgook wordlessly transferred over his and Nathaniel's belongings. His father wasn't angry with him, exactly—but his concern over the night was clearly only now abated. He knew that Uncas would have been with Alice, knew too that there were repercussions for being caught alone together.
Still, there was nothing to say. Uncas was free to do as he wished, and Chingachgook did not try and stop him.
They did not watch the parley, though Uncas found himself casting surreptitious glances up to the ramparts throughout. Instead, they waited for news of a surrender they were sure to get.
After confirming the terms, Uncas was amongst the first to get some rest in the barracks. What seemed like seconds later, though it was hours, his father woke him.
"Sleep more tonight."
He obeyed with reluctance, still weary yet knowing they'd need their energy tomorrow.
Out on the parade ground, blackened beams of wood were moved aside, but not cleared. The French would dismantle it all soon anyway. Effort was instead made to prepare for their withdrawal tomorrow, though many idled without a task.
Uncas found an easy meal from the bags of food that were now being distributed freely. What was yesterday a previously dwindling supply now became a feast, as rationing was no longer needed, yet the mood of the place was far from festive. Alcohol was still being strictly limited, and few fires were possible using only the broken logs of the fort as fuel. A fiddle played patriotic songs as if to remind themselves that Britain's honor was not entirely lost here.
As the sky darkened, many simply chose to retire while most of the soldiers were forced to on account of a curfew. Tomorrow would be a long day, and everyone was still recovering from the siege.
It was a good night, then, to meet someone in secret.
There was little for Uncas to do as he waited for Alice to appear. He struggled to maintain conversations with the others, until at last he fell into a companionable silence with William, captain of the militia. Though the man had chosen to stay when others had fled, his thoughts were mixed now. He survived, and had no warrant for his arrest—but after days of fighting and watching his own men die, there was nothing to show for it.
Regardless of who won this battle, Uncas suspected none of it would matter anyway. He kept that to himself. He, too, had mixed feelings on the situation, on whether his family should have stayed at all. Nathaniel was meant to hang, but each day of the siege had brought him closer to Alice.
In all his life, Uncas had never known such a person as her.
His world was restless and violent, his family always moving, always on their guard. They protected each other from those who wished them harm and carved out their existence one hunted animal at a time. Always killing to survive—each day that gave him life pulling him ever closer to death.
Alice was born into an existence he could never have, sheltered in a society that rejected every part of him. Her fear was immense, her body a delicate thing, one that had never known hardship until she was forced to travel through the hostile wilderness on foot, carrying on by the strength of her determination alone.
But when in control of her fear, Alice strove only to make things better. She respected the spirits around them, quelled the anger that threatened to tear their group apart. She witnessed Uncas's heartbreak, and granted him reprieve through her caring eyes and soft touch.
Alice was no warrior, could not fight her way out of a problem; she only brought peace instead. Maybe, for one more night, she could grant him that, even if it was more than a man like him deserved.
Uncas kept an eye on Munro's quarters until she finally emerged. Alice looked around until she caught his eye with a bright smile; he had to fight from returning it so blatantly in front of the others. Glancing up at the southeastern bastion with meaning, he stood and took a meandering path to meet her there, and was surprised but pleased to see she had beat him to it.
Alice ran forward to grab his hands and tug him into a shadow of the parapet.
"Can you believe it? We've made it through!"
Her spirits were immeasurably lifted. Not even the night of the campfire did she seem this carefree. Was she always this way, before the ambush?
"I'm so happy I could dance! If not for that dreadful tune." She turned to frown down at the parade ground, where the mournful notes of the fiddle continued playing. "I know it's awful to surrender. But considering the alternative—my God, we're alive." She ran her hands down the sides of his face and peered up into his eyes emphatically.
"Yes." He smiled softly and kissed her. As they pulled apart, she was solemn, but her eyes were still bright with hope.
"We'll figure out something for Nathaniel. With proper representation—"
He shook his head. "Let us not talk of it." Hopefully, there would be no need.
She pursed her lips and nodded, then stood on the tips of her toes to embrace him, her chin resting on his shoulder as he looked for any signs of approaching guards. They were easy to spot now that they would be carrying torches in the darkened fort.
Suddenly, Alice stiffened. "What was that?"
She stared down at the marsh below. Frowning, Uncas stepped in front of the embrasure, squinting into the dark. "Should be safe... they've buried the hatchet."
"It was like a will-o'-the-wisp. I could have sworn... look, there it is again!" She pointed in another direction.
The realization made him smile. "Sasapisàk. Mmm... lightning bugs."
Her eyes rounded in astonishment. "Our glow worms don't fly." She craned over the embrasure to get a better look. "How marvelous!"
He leaned against the parapet on the other side of the embrasure, settling himself in. He knew there would be a great many by the time the sky darkened fully, but enjoyed listening to her enthusiasm as she pointed out more, finding happiness in small things.
"There. No, there! Oh—I see two!" She turned to him, beaming. "Are you not seeing this?"
"I am."
She grinned. "I suppose it's all the same to you, having lived your life surrounded by such beauty."
"Until now, I haven't." He looked over her indolently, making her laugh.
"Flatterer!"
She glanced out to the marsh, then back at him, smiling sweetly as she realized his attention remained on her.
Uncas sat on the other side of the embrasure and held out a hand. "Come here."
She sidled over shyly, an action he rewarded with a deepening kiss before he swung her legs across his lap. She let out a startled laugh and wrapped her arms around his neck, their faces inches apart.
"Might not see you again."
She sat back, frowning. "Perhaps not here, but at Fort Edward?"
"I want to, but..." He shook his head. He couldn't tell her what he and his father planned. Surely Alice wouldn't divulge that information to anyone else, but he didn't want her to bear that responsibility.
"Will you not accompany your brother?"
"I will, but even so."
She studied his face and sighed. "I suppose you're right. There'll be so many more people there."
It wasn't what he meant, but hopefully she would understand him when news of Nathaniel's escape broke out. He said nothing in the dejected silence.
Alice twisted her fingers around the braid at his temple and glanced at him sideways. "Perhaps... we could make the most of our time here? Somewhere more private?"
His heart raced with anticipation as he thought of a number of things he would very much like to do to her in private. In answer, he kissed her, pressing her firmly against him.
After a moment, Alice drew back, somewhat breathless. "I said in private."
Chagrined, he gave it a thought. Because the alcohol was under heavy guard this night, there would be no returning to the infirmary—not that he particularly wanted to.
"Second store room by the kitchen is empty." He winced, knowing it wasn't a very romantic place to meet—but it would be easy to sneak in and out of.
"You're having a laugh."
"Wish I was. There's the northeast magazine... damp. Mildew. Rats."
"Right, store room it is."
He grinned. "Half hour?" That would give him time to wrap up what he needed to do with his family, leaving the rest of the night for themselves.
"Yes!"
They kissed once more before breaking apart to go in separate directions across the ramparts.
Almost immediately, Uncas nearly ran headfirst into another Indian.
"Uncas?"
He blinked down at Sharitarish, who looked to Alice—and beyond her, a young laundress. Uncas released a sigh. The only reason he hadn't heard their approach was because they were sneaking around as well.
"My, but you gave me a fright, miss!" Abigail giggled with nervous energy and leaned forward to whisper none-too-quietly in Alice's ear. "Thought I might chase a thrill as well." A wink, and the two disappeared into the darkness.
Uncas turned to Alice, who raised her eyebrows at him. Unable to explain what they had just witnessed, he simply gestured towards the pair and shrugged. A soft, feminine sigh reached their ears, followed by gentle masculine shushing.
Alice and Uncas quickly made themselves scarce.
Uncas and Chingachgook convened outside of Nathaniel's cell to go over the plans for the next day. His brother peered up at them.
"Bound to be trouble."
Chingachgook blew out a puff of tobacco smoke as he pondered this. "Some looting, should be all if the Yengeese don't fight back."
"Cora saw our old friend watching the parley by the lake. Think he cares about looting?"
Magua. This was news to Uncas. Though the sisters had stood together to watch the spectacle, Alice had said nothing to him. Had Cora thought it best to keep this from her?
"If the Français and Yangeese officers do their job, the girls will be safe."
Nathaniel was won over by their father. "That's so. Munro would not let a Huron anywhere near them. Not again."
Chingachgook said nothing to this, a fact that didn't escape Uncas's notice. If their father disagreed, he would not worry Nathaniel over idle speculation. In his duty to the fort, Munro had certainly left the girls to their own devices more than any other Yangeese father he knew.
"We will speak to Munro before we leave. Ask him to free my son."
"Won't change his mind."
"We will not harm Yengeese soldiers unless we have first sought peace. If he refuses..." Chingachgook went on to declare that they'd escape the soldiers with the utmost speed before melting into the woods, unless other enemies got involved. Either way: "Nothing to be done until you are free."
At this, Chingachgook blew smoke over each of them in turn, speaking with reverence. Nathaniel and Uncas accepted the blessing by bowing into the smoke and lifting open palms above their heads, breathing it in and washing it over them, the better to carry their thoughts and prayers to the spirits.
"So I've been thinking..."
Uncas cracked his eyes open to see Nathaniel wore his most charming smile. He then exchanged a sidelong look with his father, both instantly suspicious.
"... what if instead of heading west right away, we hang around, drop by Albany instead?"
Chingachgook merely blinked at him, but Nathaniel forged on.
"Yes, it's a risk, but hear me out—"
"No, son."
"—if I cut my hair and tie it back, buy some city clothes—"
Uncas laughed. "Pass as Yengeese?"
"—no one would recognize me!"
"Will you wear stiff heeled shoes with silver buckles?"
Nathaniel winced but drew himself upright. "If I must."
Chingachgook was not amused. "A war chief wishes you dead; you decide to reenter his territory to sneak around with his daughter."
Nathaniel shifted uncomfortably beneath his father's scrutiny, the effect made all the more childlike by the lowered floor of his cell. "Only a bit."
Their father did not alter his expression, and reiterated the point. "You want to squander the freedom we earn for you, only to walk back into the bear's den?"
"Of course it sounds bad when you say it like that!"
Despite his lighthearted responses, Uncas saw the zeal in his brother's eyes and felt a stab of empathy. Nathaniel eyed him in a flash, his pupils dilating like a hunter sensing weakness in its prey.
"Could work something out for you too, little brother. See your doe."
Uncas tamped down on his sudden interest and waved the proposition away. "My scalp will be wanted for aiding in your escape."
The city had been crawling with soldiers since the war began. Though many were now at Fort Edward, it was still foolish for a wanted man to appear there.
"You could pass for a Mohawk if you dress for it."
"To some Yengeese, maybe." Any place an Indian would be welcome in Albany, he could easily be recognized—and anyway, his pride would not allow it. Then again, if it meant seeing Alice again...
Uncas shook his head at the absurdity of it all, but the seed was planted in his mind. Was there a way to see her—even a handful of times—somewhere away from the war?
Their father ended all speculation. "No. I am fortunate that only one of my sons has been taken by the Yengeese for his foolishness. It will not happen again."
Nathaniel was visibly disappointed by the finality of the statement, but he had to have known this wasn't going to lead anywhere. A moment later he eyed Uncas again with that same predatory glint.
"What foolishness have you been up to, little brother?"
Uncas couldn't help but smile as he ducked his head. Nathaniel would love to know that he'd spent the night in the colonel's private quarters, but no one would hear the end of it if he divulged that information. He would also prefer Cora to remain in ignorance.
Regardless of his silence, Nathaniel threw back his head and laughed. He gesticulated at Uncas while addressing their father. "You see what happens the moment I'm not around to keep him in line? I don't think you appreciate me enough."
Chingachgook grunted in acknowledgement, laughter in his eyes as Uncas shook his head ruefully.
Alice found that she was little use in the infirmary, as this was the only night in which there was no influx of casualties.
There were two types of patients that needed tending to: those that would not last the night, and those that would at least survive until morning, when French physicians would take over their care. The rest would need to be on their feet for the long march ahead. If they were so abled, Alice could do nothing more, and only Cora or Mr. Phelps could aid the others.
She passed the time sorting freshly laundered bandages, and for once didn't mind being extraneous. She knew her mind was hopelessly elsewhere as she counted down the minutes to her rendezvous. Yet now nervousness tinged her excitement.
The other couple's clandestine appearance had put her own situation in perspective. Alice was put off by the woman's carefree attitude. She couldn't care less what a stranger chose to do with her time, but rather the way she assumed that Alice and Uncas were also simply having a silly dalliance.
It certainly wasn't how she felt. But what about Uncas? He was older, obviously more experienced, and seemed not to forget that there was very little time for them to spend together. His reminders were putting her in check—was that Uncas's way of warning Alice not to lose too much of herself to him?
She left the infirmary in a hurry, desperate to see him despite her trepidation. After giving him a piece of her heart, she needed to learn what he had done with it.
Alice walked by a group of officers, paying them little heed until one broke off from the others. She started guiltily, and was grateful that she hadn't blundered on and revealed her intended destination to Duncan.
"I must speak with you." He led her aside to where they wouldn't be overheard.
"My word, what's this about?" Hopefully this wouldn't take long—Uncas may now be waiting for her. The thought made her smile.
"Rumors. Naturally I'd pay it no heed—but considering the circumstances—with your sister, that is."
"Duncan—what in the world?"
"Of course, I know you'd never deign so low as to consort with one of them in such a manner but I fear you must be on your guard."
"One of 'them'?"
"I mean those bloody savages that brought us here!"
Her face when cold at his sudden outburst. "Those men risked their lives to do so."
"And what reward do you think they sought? It certainly wasn't for King and Country."
Uncas might not feel the same for her as she did him, but his motivations would never be so sordid. "Did it ever occur to you that they might simply be decent people, Major?" She spat out his rank like an insult.
"Don't be absurd. Everyone knows who Cora's been cavorting with. And I've seen the way that Indian looks at you, has since the George Road."
He sighed at her shocked expression.
"You are rather young and impressionable—perhaps you do not see it. I don't wish to bring any of this to your father's attention without cause, but without someone to guide you..."
"Whom I spend my time with is no one's business but my own."
"So you've sunk to your sister's new standards after all." His voice dripped with bitterness and disappointment.
Alice willed herself to control her temper, knowing that this was perhaps more to do with Duncan's jealousy and humiliation than anything else. Still, it was difficult not to feel deeply insulted. "Cora has nothing to do with it."
His aloof expression conveyed disbelief, but he did not press the point. "Do you know what would happen if anyone took these rumors for truth? Word would spread much further than the walls of William Henry or Edward. This is you reputation at stake. Your life."
"I don't give a wit about what others think!"
"What they think will determine your future whether you like it or not." As an afterthought, he muttered: "He at least will get what he deserves."
Alice lowered her voice to a furious whisper. "What kind of threat is that?"
"I find there is no need to make threats now that this has practically been made the talk of the town."
She frowned at Duncan in confusion, prompting him to elaborate.
"You have not seen the chaos produced by an angry mob as I have, the way violence turns so easily to sport. If you weren't Munro's daughter you'd be run out of the fort, same as any other town, and as for your... associate—I can make no promise of his safety. Why, some of the officers here would turn a blind eye, or even help if it came to that."
"That's preposterous!"
"That's the truth! Good God, Alice, savages are killed for less!"
He paused, collecting himself as Alice's heartbeat thundered in her ears.
"I know your father has been too occupied to keep an eye on you, and your sist—" He broke off and took a breath before continuing. "It's about time you understand what's expected of a virtuous woman of your station. As one who feels a brotherly affection for you, I feel it is my duty to—"
"How dare you? You are no brother of mine, and you never will be!"
Duncan clenched his jaw and lowered his voice to an angry whisper. "Then go on if you wish it, foul yourself with this unnatural attachment and see what comes of it!"
Alice slapped him hard across his cheek, and they both stared at one another, stunned.
"I'd rather hoped you'd show more propriety. I see now I was wrong."
As he walked away, Alice covered her mouth with her hand.
"Duncan, wait!"
He continued on, leaving Alice alone with her frustrations. She didn't mean to hurt him—not only was it shocking behavior, but an act of cowardice. As a gentleman, Duncan would never lay a finger on her no matter how badly she acted. She had also failed to calm the situation entirely. Now the closest thing she had to a friend in this fort was not only furious, but insulted as well.
But why couldn't he understand that Uncas was no 'savage'? He was gentle and steadfast, thoughtful and sweet. Anyone who had met him should see at once that he was a man worthy of respect. What was wrong with the world?
Yet even now she was to meet him.
What to do? When couples were discovered having trysts in London, there was little consequence for the men. Here, Uncas was seen as lesser. The scandal their relationship would create was beyond an affair, beyond a mixing of classes. He could be beaten—or worse—for touching her. Why had he not said so? Is this what he was trying to prevent, when he first turned her away?
Uncas stood in the darkness of store room, waiting. Finally, the door opened and Alice appeared. She quickly closed it behind her, plunging the room back into darkness.
"Uncas?"
"Here."
The thin spaces between planks gave him just enough light to see her shape. He stepped forward, reaching out until he felt her hair and cupped her jaw with both hands. As he bent to kiss her, she shook her head and gripped his wrists.
"What's wrong?"
She didn't answer at first, and glanced at back at the door in agitation. "You were right."
"About what?"
"This. Us. There's been talk—it's gotten out of hand and I thought—well, I don't know what I was thinking. There are reasons this shouldn't have happened and what if—"
"Nëpe... all right." His heart dropped as her words tumbled out, climbing higher and higher until he was forced to hush her. The walls were simply too thin to hide anything above a whisper. He sighed. "Anyone see you?"
"No. But if they did—if they do—they might find you and I didn't realize the consequences you'd face—"
He hushed her again, hating to do it but knowing it was necessary lest they be truly discovered. As she spoke his mind was on who—and how? Was it a lucky guess, based on Cora and Nathaniel's relationship? Had they shown too much interest in each other in front of others? No matter what the cause, gossip would surely spread throughout the fort, now that there was no siege to otherwise engage its inhabitants.
"I should go."
He shook his head but agreed. "Yes, all right."
She stepped back towards the door. Realizing that she wouldn't linger for even a goodbye, he reached for her.
"Wait—a moment, please—"
But his fingers touched nothing as she shrank from him.
"Forgive me—this was poor judgment on my part—I take full responsibility."
He halted, hand frozen in midair as she dipped into a curtsy and bolted back out the door, all thoughts of visiting her in Albany crushed.
She just curtsied at him. A curtsy. Was he now a stranger?
He mulled over the implications in the sudden silence. Did she no longer want his touch, now that she understood what he was? Now that she knew how poorly she would be judged if seen with him, a savage to her kind?
He should have expected this, sooner or later.
A few minutes passed, and he left to wander the fort, too restless to attempt anything else. He'd rather be running—away from this place, into the woods until his limbs burned and chest heaved, until he could do anything but think.
It was good then, that they had not taken things too far last night. Why would she want to risk her reputation with him when she could have a lifetime of contentment upon her return to London? For all he knew, she was already getting offers of marriage, and was simply here to explore the world first. The moment it became too real, she ran.
Uncas dismissed the thought. It wasn't Alice's fault for not wanting to be with him any longer. It was better for her this way—better for himself, even. The only thing he could do for her was protect her in the wilderness, lead her somewhere safe—and even that, he hadn't entirely managed.
Too late, he realized his path had brought him directly to a group of officers, including Lt. Ashton. Uncas recognized his loud boasting as the story of the raid he led on the Huron village two years ago.
"—had just sent them a shipment of powder. And where else did they keep it but in their homes, the silly beggars. I tell you, if you thought last night was something—that lit up the sky in the grandest display."
He paused to allow for some chuckles amongst the other officers.
"Bloody nuisance though. Made tallying the kill nigh impossible, since all that was left of them were in bits and pieces scattered as far as the fields. We let the Mohawks pick through the scraps."
At this last bit he eyed Uncas's approach disparagingly. The gleam in his eyes and flushed skin were evidence of his inebriation for any who cared to cared to look for it. Uncas wondered how the lieutenant managed to be competent enough to maintain his position, or if this was some sort of final hurrah brought on by the siege. The man had been through one before, Uncas recalled, which had ended much worse than this. Shaken nerves?
Knowing the paltry insult was aimed at him, Uncas wondered if Ashton actually thought he was a Mohawk, or simply wanted him to protest and start a confrontation. He had no intention of doing so, and kept silent.
"Unfortunately I think we did the savages a favor that year. By fertilizing their crops, not only did they have a good harvest, but fewer to feed too."
This sent a wave of laughter amongst the men, one sergeant the loudest of all. Ashton preened, the practiced line having garnered his intended reaction.
Nodding to Uncas as he passed by, he called out: "What do you think, boy?" Apparently frustrated by Uncas's lack of response, he stepped in front of him. Uncas suspected the officer would not be so foolish if he were alone. "Come now, you know some English, I dare say. Can you hear me? Speak!" He cupped a hand to his ear, then his mouth, laughing.
Some of the officers had the decency to look uncomfortable, but more were indifferent or eager for a show.
Uncas did not want to rise to the bait, yet couldn't help a small retaliation. "You boast of killing women and children."
The lieutenant flushed. "No one's weeping over dead heathens. If their own people thought they were worth protecting, they wouldn't have removed most of their fighting force. Basic military strategy."
"Do as you wish for your King. I choose to fight with honor."
Ashton jabbed Uncas in the chest with his finger in a crude display of dominance. "Honor? That's rich. Instead of fighting in the open, like men, you Indians hide yourselves amongst the trees, firing from a distance."
"Using an advantage—sounds like basic military strategy to me." Uncas calmly removed the lieutenant's hand and stepped around him.
"I've heard that's not the only thing you'll take advantage of!"
Uncas halted and turned slowly. Though his own face remained carefully neutral, Ashton's eyes were vicious and gleeful. It seemed he had a knack for getting under one's skin.
"Or does she just keep you at her heels—a loyal dog?"
Fortunately, some of the others didn't like his insinuations either. An officer gently chided the lieutenant. "Now, Ash—let's not bring Miss Alice into this."
"Is it so hard to believe? We all know her sister likes a taste of the wild."
Further murmurs of disgust and mentions of Colonel Munro cooled Ashton down to a sulk.
Uncas left without another word, wishing he could break every bone in the man's body.
As her head felt near to bursting, Alice was startled to find Cora already in their father's quarters, wearing nothing but a shift that was much too short for her. The ridiculousness of the situation shocked Alice into maintaining her composure.
"There you are." Cora tossed Alice a ball of white linen. "We're to have our clothes laundered. Papa wants us to look presentable tomorrow."
Alice unfolded the cloth and discovered it to be another shift. "Who are we to impress, the French?"
Cora rolled her eyes. "Apparently so. If you ask me, he simply wishes to keep us confined."
Alice wondered with sudden horror if her father knew exactly what she had been up to. Did everyone else in this blasted fort know too?
"Joke's on him though." Cora pulled a coarse brown dress over her head. "I found this ready to be thrown out with the old rags."
Alice eyed the dress with trepidation. "You look rather like a sack of potatoes."
"Ha. Perhaps I'll let the French see me in this instead." Cora eyed her suddenly. "You weren't at the infirmary. Where have you been?"
Alice turned away as she undressed. "Around." Realizing her answer was awfully vague, she tried for a lightened tone. "With Duncan, mostly." It was the truth, and Cora certainly wouldn't want to elaborate on that topic.
The diversion did not work as she intended.
"There's been some talk of you and Uncas..." Her voice sounded playful, as if the idea was as darling as an infatuation amongst schoolchildren.
Alice sighed. "I'm well aware, thank you."
"You seemed awfully friendly yesterday when you changed his bandage, I thought perhaps..." She eyed Alice with a smile and shrugged.
"It's not possible." Her face heated, the embarrassment, anger, and frustration colliding inside her.
"I don't know about that, I think his brother—"
"Nathaniel's white though, isn't he?" Alice snapped at her sister as she threw her discarded clothes down in a heap. "This isn't charming, nor is it amusing. He's red, I'm white,"—she punctuated this by waving her pale hand in her (not entirely white) sister's face, then recalled Uncas's words when he initially rejected her—"that just doesn't happen, Cora."
Cora looked shocked, then miffed. "Well. If that's how you feel, then perhaps you should be a bit more circumspect."
Alice stiffened at the implication that she wasn't doing everything she could to be just so. At least, now she was. Cora couldn't know that, just as she couldn't know the extent of her interactions with Uncas, but her sudden anger over the situation boiled over.
"Circumspect? You're the one spending every free moment with Nathaniel—if anyone deserves to be the talk of the fort, it's you!"
Cora wore the same cold expression Duncan did when she had hit him. "I have little choice. You know why."
Alice bowed her head and said nothing.
Cora snatched up the clothes and started out the door. She paused and turned back, her eyes alight with righteous anger. "You know, it's fine to not be interested in the man. But he's a hell of a lot more decent than most. And to spurn him so decidedly on his skin alone is low indeed."
At that, she left, slamming the door behind her.
Alice threw herself onto the bed, buried her face into a pillow, and screamed. When it did nothing to ease the growing pain between her eyes, she pulled the covers over her head and remained there for hours.
Notes:
-Thank you so much for your wonderful comments since I posted the first nine chapters! This fandom is absolutely amazing and you are all are lovely. My only regret is that I didn't crosspost sooner!
-To be clear (also... spoiler): Alice and Uncas will survive the cliffs in this story. In fact, we are definitely not even halfway through what I'm planning to write.
-I just reread BlueSapphire's At the Fort for ideas on where Alice and Uncas could hook up, only to realize that I subconsciously borrowed pretty heavily from it for inspiration in previous chapters, so I thought it was only right to give a shout out since she can't sue me over fanfiction ;)
-Shout out again to BlueSapphire, who very helpfully pointed out that "come off it" was not a phrase used at the time—it has been corrected!
-I also did research on my own, and discovered the northwest magazine was indeed abandoned due to damp conditions (it would ruin the powder). Yay, privacy! Then I realized how gross it probably was and nixed the idea.
-Prior to becoming Montcalm's aide-de-camp, the real Bougainville was secretary to the French ambassador in London. While there, he published his work on calculus and was voted into Britain's Royal Society, despite the fact that they were at war with France at the time. This is the same Bougainville for whom the flower and the island are named after, as he became a famous explorer after the war. Interesting guy.
-The real Colonel Munro did threaten to hang anyone who spoke of surrendering, up until he actually did so.
-At this time, it was customary that white women in relationships with Indian men be run out of town, an in accordance with some colonial laws. I couldn't find the law for New York colony specifically but I imagine the sentiment was the same. Racial intermarriage as a whole was against the law in some colonies, but white men who married Indian women were generally tolerated.
-Song for this chapter:
My Mistake by Gabrielle Aplin