The sky had cleared, revealing a waning moon. Long after Cora and Nathaniel had vanished into the dark forest, Alice was unable to settle back to sleep, even though Uncas had tried to convince her that it was safe and there was nothing they could do until morning anyway. She was faintly aware of having awakened half on top of him and the embarrassing memory of this kept her sitting primly up against the tree, blanket covering every part of her.

Her mind was buzzing with confusion. The fort had been attacked; their father had been taken prisoner. What did that mean for them? Was it even safe for her sister and Nathaniel to go there? What were they to do now? Perhaps they would have to return to Albany and wait for their father's release. But that could mean weeks more of travel and weeks more of waiting for word. Besides, they didn't know anyone in Albany.

She tried to calm her nerves, but her stomach felt sick with uncertainty.

"Will...will our father be all right?"

Uncas, who was crouched not far from her with his rifle propped between his legs, turned his head, but she could only make out his profile.

"What's going to happen?" Alice persisted.

He took this question literally. "Tomorrow we'll go downriver, wait a while. Nathaniel's going to send a canoe up, then we can get to my people's camp."

"Your people," she repeated.

"Mostly Delaware, actually, but a few of my father's relatives are with them. They're right on the river this time of year."

"They move around?"

"They have their own--little houses--wikwams--but over the winter, families find their own hunting grounds."

"Oh," was all Alice could think to say. She was not sure she was going to like walking into an Indian camp without her sister by her side for moral support. Though it appeared that the choice had already been made for her.

"Now go to sleep."

"I can't," she said, with some petulance.

"Wiyon-ashay, lie down and close your eyes."

Alice slid down to the base of the tree, drawing her legs up further under the blanket. It helped to keep some of the chill from the ground out. She wondered when she would be able to sleep in a bed again. And then felt guilty for that thought, for where might her father be sleeping tonight?

She eventually drifted off, but not until nearly dawn.

***

A branch snapped back and Cora, whose reflexes had long since dulled, did not catch it with her arm fast enough. It struck her right across the cheek, just missing her eye. The pain did wake her up--she'd been plodding insensibly for the last few leagues, noticing nothing but vague shapes of things that were quite normal by daytime, bushes and rocks and stumps of trees. She hummed a moan, sucking in air to offset the stinging of her skin. Nathaniel backtracked, examining her face. "Sorry. Okay to keep going?"

"Yes," she lied. The last break they'd had was hours ago and had only lasted minutes. Either dawn was finally breaking or the moon was getting brighter; Cora couldn't tell which, but she was just grateful for the fact that she was starting to be able to see. Her dress had gotten multiple new tears in the hem, and there was a cut on her knee, which she was sure was still bleeding, gotten when she'd stumbled into a rock at some point in the past. She feared to think what she looked like; probably a witch, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that they kept going. She knew Nathaniel was going slowly, but she was keeping up, and that was the most important thing. Her father would not have expected this of her, but she didn't care. She needed to know what had happened. Needed to see it with her own eyes.

Duncan is dead. Father is dead--what life is there for a young woman with no husband, no father, no brothers?

Tears of fatigue and loneliness welled up in her eyes. Nathaniel had already taken her at her word and gone on again.

You have to be strong for Alice. You know that.

But not right now. Alice was not here to see, and she didn't care if Nathaniel knew she was crying or not. She wiped mingled sweat and tears off her face with the back of her hand and kept moving. One foot in front of the other. Her feet ached so much she could barely think. For the first time, Nathaniel's moccasins were starting to seem like a good idea. It almost seemed like it might be a good idea to go barefoot rather than endure the pinch of leather and buckle.

Keep moving, Cora. Just keep moving.

No matter what.

***

As soon as it was light, Uncas went down to check their proximity to the river and was relieved to see that, in their search for an impromptu camping spot the night before, they hadn't strayed too far off course--the Mohawk, here calm and placid, was only about a mile to the south. He jogged back to Alice, who was sleeping. He breakfasted on a few pieces of jerky, which quelled the complaints of a stomach that had not seen much in the way of food lately, and re-filled the water flask from a fresh stream. He picked some more blueberries to give to Alice when she woke. He waited.

She didn't wake, and as the maize-colored sun climbed higher, piercing the canopy of leaves, he began to get restless. He knew the canoe shouldn't take more than a couple of hours to get to them. A canoe paddled by a couple of young warriors such as himself could travel two-thirds as fast as a runner. Still, it was hard to estimate exactly, since he didn't know precisely how far their current location was from the camp or how long it had taken Nathaniel and Cora to get there. But he wanted to be near the river so that as soon as the others arrived they could head back down the river to safety.

He was a little concerned about bringing Alice to the camp of his people. Not that he thought she would be anything less than safe--it was possibly better in that respect than even his father's cabin, for they were out of the path of the French and there were plenty of young warriors around to defend should anyone come looking for a fight. Rather it was the fact that she looked so very different from anyone or anything they had ever seen. Wiyon-ashay. A fitting name for her, a testament to her appearance. As he stared down at her now he knew that it was not going to be easy for her at the camp, even if her stay there was only for a short time.

The other thing he had to figure out was how she should be presented. Nathaniel would have had enough discretion not to give anyone too many details about the women and their personal history, including the fact that their father was the English colonel. Still, that left Uncas needing to answer the question of why was it his responsibility to ensure their safety? I found them in the woods...while that was true, he didn't think it would stand up to much scrutiny.

Well, he would deal with that later. He knelt by the fair-haired girl's side and touched her shoulder. "Alice."

"Mmm," she said sleepily, blinking at him with purple-smudged eyelids.

"We've got to get down to the river. It's not far."

"Is the..did the canoe come?"

"It will." He guided her to a standing position. "Can you walk?"

Alice slipped her feet into her shoes and tried. "I think so."

"I'll carry you if--"

"I can manage," she said, a little severely. But she did take his arm, and shuffling a little, they left the cover of the willow tree and moved in the direction of the river.

***

Part of Nathaniel resented not being able to move through the forest in his preferred method, which was speedily; part of him argued that even if he were running it would not change the fact that the fort was already taken and Munro was already dead. They just had to establish this was undeniably the case. But it was also a fact that time was not on their side, and if a thousand Frenchmen were marching prisoners through the forest he didn't want the girls to be anywhere they'd be noticed.

Right before dawn broke he knew they were within reach of the Delaware camp at which Chingachgook and Uncas' remaining relatives should be. They were approaching it from the northeast. Glancing back at Cora, he knew it would be better if he could leave her there right now, and go on alone. But he hadn't the heart to desert her.

"All right, I'm going to go down and talk to them, let them know they have to send a canoe up for Uncas and Alice," he told her. "You'd better wait right here."

Cora did not look like she had any objection to this plan. She nodded and sank to the ground in a heap of skirts. "I'll just rest," she murmured.

"I won't be long." Nathaniel considered for a moment, then left his rifle with her--Killdeer was easy proof that she was under his protection on the chance that anyone, soldier or scout, happened by--and jogged down the last mile to the encampment.

He was as well-known and well-received as his brother and father in the camp, and once he communicated the issue to a couple of young braves, one of whom was the husband to one of Uncas's cousins, they were almost instantly dispatched upriver with one of the canoes. That accomplished, Nathaniel shared the news and his purpose in being there with a few more relatives, then headed back up the hill to find Cora. He hadn't been gone more than half an hour but she was soundly asleep when he returned. He surveyed her for a while, considered leaving her, knew he couldn't.

He recalled what his adoptive father had said: Don't expect too much from the Yengeese...

Bending down, he scooped Cora up and, with his burden dangling limply from his arms, set a course for the northwest. A few more days would get them to the fort.

***

Alice, settled into a comfortable natural crevice in the rocks at the side of the river, swallowed another handful of blueberries with rather unladylike zest. She thought for the hundredth time that trip that she would have given anything for a cup of tea and a biscuit warm from the oven. Drizzled with honey...but the blueberries were sweet and mellow, tasting of warm sun in her mouth, and they would have to do for now.

She was glad that her foot did not seem to be seriously damaged. It had given her slight pain as they'd made their way to the water's side, but she thought that rest would soon cure it. She knew she should be glad that all they had to do now was wait for a canoe, and that would mean she didn't have to do any more travelling through the wilderness, but she was not looking forward to a water journey, either. Though where they had crossed earlier had not been bad, the Mohawk was treacherously violent and deep in places; she'd seen as they followed it up. Alice was not eager to renew her acquaintance with it.

Not that she didn't want to get clean. She longed for a hot bath and a new dress, though how could either be possibly forthcoming? Still, if Uncas hadn't been there, she thought she might have risked washing a little at the side of the river, perhaps just in her petticoats, as improper a notion as that was. But with any kind of man present that was out of the question, no matter how badly she desired to be clean. Ladies just didn't think of such things. And the fact that she was even thinking about it at all, just proved to her how badly she really needed to get back to some kind of civilized society.

Looking down at her blueberry-stained fingers, Alice decided that at least she would wash them and her face. Her hair had been kept in a braid ever since the night at the cave and nothing could be done with it, but she would not face any more Indians looking like something to scare small children. They might be dirty, if they liked, but she should not be.

She scrambled out of her sitting spot and moved, partly on hands and knees to save her ankle, towards the rushing water. It was awkward to perch on the rocks and wash, but she managed to scrub her hands, and splash water in her face. Her skin felt better once cleansed of yesterday's grime. Dripping, she was just feeling behind her to prepare to move backwards when Uncas's leggings appeared in her field of vision. "You should tell me if you want to go in the water."

"I don't want to go in the water," Alice murmured, a little resentfully, like a caught child. "I just wanted to wash."

His serious expression was modified into one of slight confusion. "It's not safe. The water is very fast here, and the rocks are slippery. You can wash at the camp. Come."

For the first time since they'd met she perceived his tone as high-handed, as if he were actually telling her to do something whether she wanted to or not, simply because he wanted her to, regardless of whether or not it was safe or made sense. She hesitated, unsure if she was misinterpreting his attitude. While it was natural and she was completely willing to submit to the authority of an older male, etiquette dictated that he at least make an effort to ask instead of command. Perhaps that was only something that British gentlemen understood? Frowning, she shifted on the rocks, uncertain. Something in her knew instinctively that she couldn't expect a native to share her customs, much less the unwritten rules of society, but it still rankled.

His hand was outstretched to help her, as it had been so many times over the past week, but this time Alice didn't take it. She stood up, and, though her ankle protested, brushed past him and stepped carefully over the rocks back to where her blanket was spread out. She knew her back was stiff, and not just from the stays.

Alice was in the right, and she knew it. She sat down, spread her skirts over her knees in a most proper manner and tried to gaze out over the river with a commanding air, as if she knew exactly why she was there and what she was doing.

But she didn't dare look at Uncas.

***

"I should have left you behind."

Cora tried to sit up, but her head ached. Wearily, she opened her eyes anyway. The forest surrounding her looked much like what it had since they'd begun their journey. Green. Brown. Hard. Uncompromising. She put up a hand to her face and touched the welt from the branch that had struck her the night before.

"I had to come," she mumbled, through a fuzzy mouth.

Nathaniel grunted dismissively. "I didn't want Uncas to go through the same thing with Alice, that's the only reason you're here."

"I know." Privately, Cora thought it was a good thing he didn't know her well enough to know that she would never have hurt her sister simply to get her own way, but the threat of it had been good enough, because Nathaniel had obviously believed her when she'd said she would tell. This did not give her much satisfaction, however. She didn't like to feel she was tricking him. But it had been necessary.

She'd been denied the chance to see her fiancé's final resting place; she wouldn't be denied her father's.

"Where are we?"

"North-northwest of Wolf camp," Nathaniel said, knowing that meant little to her. But he didn't know, either, where they were, exactly. It was not as if he had a map to go by, at least not one on paper that he could spread out and he could point to her their location. His maps were internal, and his markers, meaningless to anyone who did not live in this wilderness.

Cora scanned the sky, but it was overcast, and the light was neutral, giving her no indication as to what time of day it might be. Perhaps it didn't matter since they had travelled most of the night and Nathaniel didn't seem to be inclined to keep regular sleeping and waking hours anyway, at least not on this portion of the trip.

Nathaniel handed her a water flask without comment. She drank and while she did not relish the leathery taste of the warm water, it was refreshing nonetheless. "Food?"

She shook her head. Her stomach was empty, but she did not want food. She wanted to keep going.
"I'm ready," she said, getting to her feet, and only wishing she hadn't staggered slightly as she did so.

Nathaniel said, not unkindly, "You're ready to fall over."

"I am quite prepared to travel, Mr..." she suddenly realized that not only did she not know his last name, she had never attempted to use it until now, and had a passing thought that that was strange. "..sir."

"Eat something."

"I said that I was not hungry," she replied politely.

"And I said that you look about two minutes away from fainting."

"I have never fainted in my life," Cora said, with as much indignance as she could muster, which wasn't very much, considering that she was trying to look completely capable of a wilderness march.

"You, madam, are a liar." Nathaniel looked amused, however, which was better than being angry. "And as much as I enjoy lugging you through the woods--"

"Lugging me!"

"And while you probably weigh a little less than a deer, at least I can put the deer over my shoulders--"

He grinned at her look of shock.

"Sir, really. You have no shame."

"Not much," Nathaniel conceded. "But of good sense I've got plenty." He suddenly sobered, came over to her and rather forcibly set her back down on the ground. "Rest some more, Cora. We'll head out later. And you will eat something before we do."

Cora let herself sink back--her heart had been sent into erratic pounding for a moment because she had been sure for some ridiculous reason that just then when he had grabbed he was about to do what he had done the other night.

But why would he have? I certainly don't want him to.

And if he ever tries to again I will have to let him know that he has no right...

But he won't. He'd better not.

She talked herself back into sleep.