They moved as fast as they dared, as they were still in the Huron lands; the captain might be dead, but they were fair prey for any war party that might come across them, as few and encumbered as they now were.
Between them, the two men carried Uncas, who still had not stirred. Despite the weight, their step was agile and sure-footed and they made almost no noise. Alice envied them: carrying no pack, she could barely keep up, her feet seemingly finding every outcropping or fallen tree branch on which it was possible to trip. She wanted to stop, or at least to slow down, but it was clear from the strangely identical set in their jaws that her request, if posed, would be denied.
She had no idea where they were going. The only imperative seemed to be to keep moving.
The dappled afternoon sun brightened, then began to pale. A short time later, the western sky erupted into a blaze of golden orange streaks set atop an expanse of pink and violet, framed by the dark outlines of the treetops. Alice was transfixed, her eyes barely glancing at the trail, as she lost her footing and almost tumbled to the ground. Had she not seen such things before in her life? Surely if skies had looked like this, she reasoned, she would have noticed.
Still they pressed on.
Only once night had fallen, the forest depths made impenetrable and fathomless, did they stop to rest. Nathaniel led them to a small cleft in the hillside surrounded by low-branched trees and bushes, which he claimed offered the best level of protection.
There would be no fire, as it was deemed too dangerous, and their dinner consisted of a few small pieces of dried deer meat, unceremoniously washed down with the remaining water from Chingachgook's canteen. Her stomach growled in protest, though she tried to ignore it.
The mood was quiet, pensive, their thoughts too wrapped up in the events of the day to give much consideration to conversation. Alice wanted to take off her shoes and rub her feet, but didn't like the idea of everyone watching her. Instead, her eyes kept drifting over to where they had carefully laid the stretcher, where she could just make out the small rise and fall of his chest in the moonlight.
Cora began to make preparations to sleep. A blanket was laid out, apparently to be shared by Alice and Cora. Alice was glad, at least, for the physical closeness of her sister, but watched with dismay as Nathaniel promptly took the space on the ground next to Cora, inviting and receiving her into his arms. Alice turned onto her side, away from them, trying not to feel hurt, trying to feel happy for them, both unsuccessfully. She squeezed her eyes and tried to relax into sleep.
The dreaming had been laced with fire and blood, with the pitted face of the Huron captain, knife in hand. She must have woken up, her eyes now adjusting to the darkness, hearing behind her the soft snores of Nathaniel. For some reason, one she couldn't even begin to explain to herself, she clumsily scrambled to her feet, shuffling the few paces over to where Uncas slept, still unmoving. She lay down next to him, not touching him, but close enough to hear him breathing, to see the spindly lines of the tribal tattoos decorating his forearm.
She closed her eyes for a moment, almost surrendering to sleep, but opened them, only to see his head had turned, his bottomless dark eyes looking directly at hers.
She opened her mouth to protest, to explain, to say something, but he gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head. Instead he reached down to take her hand, wrapping his strong fingers in hers. And then his eyes closed again.