The sky was incarnadine, a mass of purples and pinks streaked together around the descending sun when they drew close to the Indian camp. A Delaware met them on the way in, and Cora was far too exhausted to refuse his help over the last mile or so, while Nathaniel went on ahead.

Uncas joined him at the outskirts of camp. "Brother. How was it?"

"Fort's been leveled," Nathaniel confirmed. "We need food and Cora needs sleep. How's her sister?"

"Our aunt and cousins are looking after her. Better bring Cora to their wikwam. You look like a dead catfish."

Nathaniel clapped him across the shoulders. "Well, we can't all have pretty faces like you, Fox."

They all crowded into Chingachgook's sister's wikwam then. Alice was asleep in the corner, buried in skins and her blanket, and Sanquen busied herself getting food for the newest arrivals. There were beans and plenty of cooked maize from the communal pot, even a little fire-smoked fish that had been caught earlier that day.

Nathaniel and Cora both ate ravenously, although Cora's head was starting to nod from fatigue even as she brought food to her mouth. The wikwam soon grew warm from all the bodies crowded within, and as darkness fell outside, Cora crawled over to her sister's inert form and lay down beside it, passing out into sleep almost within minutes. Their aunt brought over a soft buckskin and draped it over.

"The dark-hair is stronger than her sister," she said. "Still, you should have brought them here together."

Nathaniel and Uncas exchanged looks. "She's stubborn, too," Nathaniel said. "I would have had a fight on my hands."

Their aunt made grunting sounds of disapproval. "A woman does not argue with a man."

"You do, Nohkumihs," Uncas put in, taking issue with this bit of blatant falsehood.

"When I was young I did not."

Nathaniel said nothing. He was not as close with Chingachgook's sister as she was with her blood nephew. It was not that his adoptive aunt had ever been unkind to him, but since he was a child she had treated him with a distant civility on the occasions that Chingachgook had brought the two boys, later young men, to the camp. Most of the other Delaware regarded Nathaniel as one of their own and treated him no differently than they did Uncas, but he had always sensed that his aunt could never quite forget his white heritage.

He took another swallow of boiled maize and wondered what the next few days were going to be like, now that they were back together. Under the eye of the camp, certainly under the eye of his aunt.

He had a feeling he was not going to enjoy them.

"I'm ready for sleep too," he said.

"We're in Machque's wikwam," Uncas said. "Tiskemanis just had a baby this afternoon."

"Did she?" Nathaniel had not much experience with babies and rather distrusted them as a result. But that was fine, as it was Delaware custom for the mother and child to be confined for the first couple of weeks after giving birth. "Good for her. I thought she already had one."

"That was last year."

"Mm." Nathaniel set down his bowl, which Sanquen hurried to clear away, and backed out of the tent, making a formal bow of acknowledgment to his aunt for the hospitality as he did so. Chingachgook had always insisted on manners as being an essential part of a warrior's standards for decency and honor, and it had become natural.

Once within the walls of their cousin's wikwam, Nathaniel pulled off his moccasins and shirt, though the night was cool, and stretched out on the deerhide mats with a sigh. It was something of a relief to be free of the feminine presence. He suspected Uncas felt the same way. A large part of their lives had been spent only in each other's company, and the dynamic of two women introduced into the relationship was unsettling.

"So what do we do with them now?"

Uncas's quiet question dovetailed into his thoughts.

"I don't know," Nathaniel said after a few more moments of silence.

"It's pretty certain that Munro is dead..?"

"Certain as we can be without seeing his body." Nathaniel grimaced up at the roof of the wikwam. Based on the destruction of the fort, there wouldn't even be a body.

"They came from Albany," Uncas mused.

Nathaniel groaned at the prospect of more woodland travel with the two women. "That's too damn far to take them without horses. Even with horses it'd take a month--"

"Ciwi taqôquw.."

"...and it's almost fall, I know."

They were both silent for a while.

"Father will likely be here soon."

"Mmm," Nathaniel said drowsily, understanding that Uncas meant they might as well postpone the conversation until then, or they would just be having it all over again when Chingachgook did arrive. He rolled on his side, pulled a deerhide around his shoulders and fell quickly into sleep.

***

Alice woke later than usual in the morning to find her sister next to her, soundly asleep. For a moment she was shocked by the older woman's condition--Cora was ragged, dirty, and clearly worn out to the point of exhaustion. But she was infinitely glad to see her. She gave her sister a quick rapturous squeeze around the shoulders and then sat up.

They were alone in the tent. Uncas's cousin and the older Indian woman were early risers, evidently. She heard the thin wail of a newborn baby, wondered if she had imagined it.

Peeling back the blanket, she examined her outfit with some distaste. She had had to take off her dress, petticoats and shift yesterday, and they hung drying by the fire. Sanquen had given her a soft but shapeless buckskin robe to wear in the interim, and Alice had had no choice but to get dressed in it, even though it came indecently to only about mid-calf. She hadn't left the wikwam all day yesterday, unable to face anyone wearing such a thing.

Now, she crawled over to the fire, found that her stockings were dry, and quickly put them on. Thus attired she felt a little better, though she still felt positively naked without a shift.

But at least she was clean.

Cora snored gently on the moosehide, one arm pillowing her head, her other arm outstretched slightly. Her fingers were curled around something and Alice curiously took her sister's hand in her own and gently pulled the fingers apart to see what it was. The comb that Nathaniel had given her.

Alice took the comb, and, moving to sit by Cora's head, began carefully to start to comb out the parts of her hair that she could reach without disturbing her. Cora's natural curls combined with days of travel rendered this task difficult, but it gave her something to do. She concentrated on separating the hair into strands, and making sure each strand was smooth before she set it aside and started in on the next one. She loved having her own hair combed, and there was something soothing about the act of doing it for someone else.

She heard steps outside the tent and when moccasins appeared in her sight of vision, she felt an odd twist of disappointment in her stomach when their owner turned out not to be Uncas, but Nathaniel. He knelt down by the opening. "Morning, Alice." He looked a little older than she remembered, but maybe that was tiredness.

"Good morning," she murmured, quickly tucking her legs under her. "Thank you for bringing my sister back safely."

"Not at all," he said, as if amused by the properness of this sentiment. Alice found it unnerving the way she could never tell if he was mocking her or not. She decided she far preferred Uncas's serious way of speech. Something about Nathaniel was...hard. She did not dislike him, but she didn't know how her sister could have spent so much time with him alone.

"Where is Uncas?" she said, and for some reason, upon Nathaniel's searching glance, immediately felt her face heat.

"Outside having something to eat." Nathaniel's dark eyes were too knowing. She ducked her head, focused on Cora's hair. "Oh."

"Come out and have something yourself."

It wasn't a question. Still, she protested, "But I am not properly dressed."

"You look fine."

Alice unwillingly uncurled herself from her position, pressed Cora's comb back into her hand and rose. She was hungry.

Outside, the sun was high in the sky; she was guessing it was already mid-morning.

Uncas was by the common food pot with a few other of the men, and they were exchanging a few words in the Delaware language which sounded almost exactly the same to Alice's ears as Mohegan did. As Nathaniel, Alice following timidly after in an attempt to hide behind him, drew up, all of them, including Uncas, turned and stared at her.

For a moment she had a childish urge to run back to the wikwam. She tried to stand taller and look as if she didn't care.

Nathaniel grunted. Alice did not know how or whether it were possible that grunts in and of themselves could be some kind of communication, but maybe they were, because Uncas first, and then the other Delaware, after another moment, looked away and continued talking. One of the men--she realized now that he was young, maybe about her own age, though he was tall and solidly muscled--in a rather deferential way handed her the ladle brimming with soup. Her first instinct was to reject it. They had all been eating out of the same thing, which offended her sense of hygiene. But they were also all waiting for her to take it.

After a moment, she accepted the ladle and had a taste of the rich boiled maize, looking up at the man who'd given it to her under her lashes. She realized now that she recognized him. He'd been one of the paddlers in the canoe.

Uncas said to her, "That's Machque's little brother. His name is Nachenum. Raccoon."

The young man, hearing the Anglicized version of his name, gave her a little head-bow of greeting. Alice was torn on how to respond. One could scarcely curtsy to red men, but on the other hand she had been brought up with better manners than to ignore a friendly overture either. At last she smiled back at him.

"We're going fishing today," Uncas said, "and it's getting late." He switched to Delaware, which sounded curt in comparison, and shortly after that, with scarcely a backward glance, the three warriors departed in the direction of the river, leaving Nathaniel and Alice still standing by the fire pit.

***

Cora awoke, conscious of pain in almost every fiber of her being. She knew that sleep had left her, but she did not yet feel rested. Her eyes were open, but she could not see very clearly.

Shifting, because her hipbone was digging into the ground in a very uncomfortable manner, she let out a tiny but heartfelt moan, and for just an instant, tried to recall where she was. Then she did. They were at the Indian camp, or as Nathaniel and Uncas referred to it, the wolf camp. Sunlight created a small triangular patch of light on the ground by the entrance.

It was strange to hear the sounds of people. Strange to hear the high-pitched laughter of children, the guttural utterances of a foreign language, the barking of dogs.

She became aware that she was not alone in the tent. A solemn-faced Indian woman, middle-aged, was sitting by the fire, cross-legged, watching her. Her gaze was not critical, but neither was it approving or friendly. Upon seeing that Cora was awake and moving, the woman called outside. A few moments later, the slim Indian girl Cora recalled having seen the night before, the one with glossy braids and long bare legs, poked her head in, said something and disappeared again.

Cora struggled into a sitting position and rubbed her neck. She wanted to smile at the other woman, but her expression did not seem to encourage it. A few awkward moments passed before Alice appeared, with Nathaniel holding the animal-skin door flap open and looking in with apparent uninhibition.

"Sister!" Alice dropped to her knees and grabbed Cora's hands. "How did you sleep? How are you feeling?"

"Alice." She mustered up enough energy to hug the other young Englishwoman back. "I am all right, just in need of...a bath," she said, giving Nathaniel a rather defiant stare. If he would insist on sticking his head in other people's houses uninvited, he must be prepared to hear such details. "And something more to eat."

Sanquen was already there with food; she seemed able to move with the speed and silence of a ghost on her bare feet. Cora ate hungrily, ignoring Nathaniel, who continued to crouch by the entrance and calmly observe her, in the same way that the older Indian woman was doing.

Alice reached out and tucked a strand of Cora's hair behind her ear with an almost motherly air. "I was so worried about you."

"And I you," Cora said, slightly bemused at her sister's newfound confidence. "But Alice...what are you wearing?"

Alice glanced down at herself for a moment, her braid falling over her shoulder. "Oh--while my dress was drying, I needed something to wear. It's awful, I know."

Cora laughed in startled agreement, and the two giggled for a moment, rocking together almost hysterically, at the oddness of the situation.

The older Indian woman exchanged meaningful looks with the younger one.

Nathaniel cleared his throat. "Cora, this is my aunt. Chingachgook's sister," he clarified. But he had amusement in his eyes that belied his rather stern tone.

"Very nice to meet her, I'm sure," Cora murmured, and licked out the leavings from the bowl.

"Cora!" Alice was shocked.

Uncas and Nathaniel's aunt gave her one more disapproving look, and then, muttering something, rose and shuffled out of the tent. Sanquen looked like she wanted to stay, but Nathaniel said a quick word to her and she went reluctantly after.

"Do you suppose they have another one like that for me? While mine is getting washed?" Cora said, and began to giggle again.

"Cora--" Now Alice was beginning to look concerned. She glanced back at Nathaniel for support.

"Right," Nathaniel said, sighing. "Getting washed. Good idea. You look like you've..."

"Been tramping through the forest for days," Cora interrupted. "I know, thank you, Nathaniel."

"You can wear my dress until yours is washed and dry." Alice gave her a quick hug.

"Where should we go? The river?"

"No, Cora, there's a lovely place--" Alice excitedly broke off in mid-sentence, glancing self-consciously back at Nathaniel, upon whom this was not lost. His gaze sharpened. He resembles a hawk sometimes, Cora thought. An elegant...or perhaps that should be arrogant--hawk.

"Uncas took you up there?"

Alice looked at him and then back at Cora, her mouth moving but no sound coming out. "I--we--"

"Just the two of you?" Nathaniel demanded.

Cora rolled her eyes at him, realizing what Alice did not, which was that he was purposely taking on the role of older brother, acting as if he thought there had been a serious breach of propriety. For some reason, she did not interrupt. She felt a touch of pity for Alice, who looked panicked, but on the other hand, if it were true, they certainly should not have gone off anywhere together unsupervised. Alice should have known better than that. The events of the past week had been an exception, but now that they had rejoined society--as different as this society might be, it was still civilization in comparison, and there were other people and other people's tongues to consider--they would have to uphold and abide by at least some of the standards they had been brought up to.

So when Alice wrung Cora's hand pleadingly, begging for a little sisterly support, Cora gazed back at her with level eyes. "What is it that Nathaniel means? Where did you go?"

"May we not talk about this in private?"

"Miss Munro," Nathaniel said coolly, and for a minute Cora thought it was his old appellation for her, but he meant Alice this time--"What you do here ceases to become private and becomes part of the public domain. So I will ask you to explain yourself. Particularly considering my brother seems to have had a part in it."

Cora thought he was overdoing it and that he might have stopped. She would have by now. Then again, the memory of Uncas and Alice sleeping together under the willow tree flashed unbidden into her mind. If Alice were scared of what repercussions might come from too many unseemly associations, that would in no way be a bad thing.

Alice had withdrawn her hand from Cora's, sensing she was getting no support from that quarter, and folded hers in her lap, kneeling like a supplicant, her eyes downcast now and two bright smudges of color on her cheeks.

"I'm waiting, Miss Munro."

"We didn't do anything wrong," she said, in a tiny voice.

"I should hope that you did not."

"We just...bathed and came right back to camp." Alice raised her eyes now and Cora saw just a small flash of rebellion in them. Which she could understand, because after all, Nathaniel may have been older and a man, but he was still not a relative of theirs.

She decided now to intervene. "Well, then, if it is as you say it is, Alice, no harm has been done and you have no reason to be ashamed. Nathaniel is just asking that you be cognizant of the effect your behavior may have on others. Come, Nathaniel, you may show me where I am to go."

She gathered herself up, bundled Alice's dress into the blanket, and headed out with Nathaniel.

"I hope this place is not far?" she asked his back as they walked out of the camp and began to follow a trail heading north.

"Just a matter of moments," he replied. "You are still sore from yesterday."

"Indeed." It didn't occur to her to deny it. She rubbed her back with her fists as she moved slowly after him. "I have had my fill of walking through the wilderness for the time being. Do your people not have horses?"

"The Delaware don't, no. The land here is not suited to it. If we go south, we run into grasslands and some of the other tribes who occupy those lands have pack ponies." Nathaniel paused for a moment to heave a fallen sapling out of the path and toss it into the undergrowth, then continued on.

"Don't you think you were a little hard on Alice?"

He shot her a glance over his shoulder. "You think I was?"

"Well, I can't deny that she shouldn't have done what she did, but still.."

"I wasn't serious, you know."

"Yes, I realized that." Cora spoke rather severely. "But she thought you were."

"I know. Sensitive thing, isn't she." He paused for a half-beat and added, "Like her sister in that respect."

"Very amusing, sir." But she did smile, couldn't help it.

"Here we are." Nathaniel cut off the path a short way and, knocking back branches, gestured with his hand. "What do you think?"

The glade was indeed lovely, and Cora liked the way it was sheltered.

"Well," Nathaniel said. "I'll stay here by the path. You go on down. I wouldn't want your sister to think I was a hypocrite." He grinned at her.

"All right." Cora shouldered her bundle and began to make her way down to the little waterfall.

"Yell if you need any help, or see anything."

"I shall be sure to."