So this was where Ichante and Uncas lived.
Alice surveyed the sparsely furnished but spacious log cabin, as Mikayla ambled curiously around, poking her face into every nook and cranny. When the little girl tottered towards the narrow corridor which Alice presumed led to the bedrooms, Uncas swept her up in his arms and settled her on his shoulders, "Too dusty. We've to clean the rooms first."
Alice grabbed a wooden bucket and tapped Ichante's shoulder gently, "Show me the way to the river. I shall get some water and we can start cleaning the house." Ichante nodded with a smile and found another bucket. "Ichante, " Uncas called mildly. Ichante spun around and instinctively caught the knife that Uncas tossed in his direction. Father and son had a rapid exchange in Mohican before Ichante finally said, "Let's go."
Uncas watched as mother and son left the cabin together, leaving him with a squirming Mikayla who repeatedly tugged his braid. He laughed and swung her off his shoulders and onto the ground. Uncas reached for his canteen and sipped some water. Mikayla pointed at his canteen, wriggling her finger. Uncas crouched down and rapped his knuckles on her forehead, "You have to ask me for it. Say 'water'." Her mouth drew into a stubborn line - she obviously understood what he had said. She jabbed her finger at the canteen again. Uncas shook his head sternly, " Ask me for the water, Mika," Mika. The pet name rolled off his tongue naturally. Uncas liked it. The child looked at him imploringly with her huge blue eyes. Uncas sighed in defeat and tipped the canteen at her lips. He would make her speak... another day.
"What did your father say earlier?" Alice quipped as she and Ichante scooped water from the stream. "Protect you," Ichante shrugged, kicking up a spray of water with his foot. Alice's throat constricted. Her little boy protecting her. It should the other way around. "Thank you," Alice returned gratefully, smiling at him warmly. Ichante simply flicked an unreadable look at her in reply and resumed collecting water. So much like his father, Alice thought wistfully.
"Your father had a wife, did he not?" Alice broached carefully since she was not privy to Ichante's relationship with his former stepmother. Cora had informed her of Uncas' previous marriage during the journey. Her sister had not said much and Alice did not feel she had the right to pry. "She left long ago," Ichante related in a matter-of-fact tone. "Do you remember her?" Alice inquired, turning to look at him. The boy answered evenly, "Not much. I was three or four. I was always with Aunt Cora." Alice nodded and did not pursue the conversation further.
They spent most of the afternoon cleaning the house. There were three rooms in the house: one bedroom each for Uncas and Ichante, while the third room was a study of sorts. Alice and Mikayla would sleep in Ichante's room, with Ichante moving to the third room. There were no beds but Alice did not mind. She draped a quilt over a pile of furs and deemed it comfortable enough for slumber.
Ichante's bedroom was as spare as the rest of the house. His clothes were piled neatly in one corner, with a few shelves running across one wall. Worn English books and wooden figurines lined the shelves, with the odd knife and belt. Alice recalled his grand nursery in the country manor and wondered if the boy remembered anything of his luxurious early years. Byran had a wooden rocking horse specially made for him which the toddler used to love.
"All right?" Alice spun around to see Uncas leaning against the open door. Flustered, she nodded, "Yes, thank you," "We are going to Cora's for supper," he informed. "Lovely. I cannot wait to meet the children," Alice said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Monkeys. All of them," Uncas warned dryly. His humourous comment took Alice by surprise and a startled laugh escaped her, "All of them? Really?" "All of them," he reiterated with a wry smile. "And Ichante is not like them?" Alice teased, feeling glad they could hold a light-hearted conversation.
Uncas' expression turned serious, "He was good when he came here. He is still as good now." There was a pause before he continued, "You and your husband did well with him." Bryan. He had loved his adopted son like his own but Alice knew that was not the reason why the child had turned out the way he did. "No. He is exactly like you. From the second he was born, he was all you," Alice responded haltingly, averting her gaze from Uncas before brushing past him out of the room.
Uncas was right - the children were monkeys. But extremely lovable ones at that.
Her nephew and two nieces were all dark-haired and dark eyed, like their parents. They were as noisy and talkative as Ichante was quiet. Honon, the only boy and the eldest, was a year younger than Ichante. The two were inseparable whenever they were together. Magena, the middle child and Nadie, the youngest, took Mikayla under their wing immediately, sharing their toys with her. Magena was six, while Nadie was five.
Alice watched Ichante and Honon playfully wrestle on the floor after supper, amused by their antics. "Just like Uncas and Nathaniel when they were boys," Chingachcook observed gruffly, coming over to sit next to her on the bench in the living room. "I am glad Ichante has his cousins. He would have been all alone had he stayed in England, "Alice shared, fiddling with her skirt. The elder Mohican grunted in response though Alice was not sure whether in disagreement or agreement.
Nathaniel flopped down on the bench opposite the table, "He reminds me so much of Uncas that it scares me sometimes." Cora, who was chatting with Uncas near the hearth rolled her eyes, "I am more terrified that Honon is so much like you." Chingachcook smiled at that. His daughter-in-law was right. Honon was a hellraiser just like his father - he attracted trouble wherever he went.
"Grandpa!" Nadie screeched, running towards Chingachcook with Mikayla in tow. Chingachcook ruffled the hair of his youngest grandchild and eyed Mikayla kindly. The little girl hid herself behind Nadie, peeking at him over her cousin's shoulder. Uncas came up to them and gently tugged Mikayla away from Nadie. "Nothing to be afraid of, Mika," he murmured, crouching down beside her. "Mika?" Alice repeated incredulously. "Suits her," Uncas concluded nonchalantly as he gave Mikayla a tiny shove in Chingachcook's direction.
The elder man hunched over to look at Mikayla in the eye, "Hello, Mika." He patted her cheek lightly. "Say hello, darling." Alice encouraged, stroking her daughter's hair. Mikayla bobbed her head respectfully. "She cannot speak yet," Uncas told his father in Mohican. That caused Chingachcook to study Mikayla more closely. She would speak, he surmised, when the time was right. He glanced at his son, who was watching Mikayla with an indulgent grin. His son had fallen head over heels with the little girl - like how he had fallen head over heels with her mother eight years ago.
Uncas, Ichante, Alice and Mikayla strolled back to their cabin. They did not converse at all throughout but strangely, Alice did not feel awkward. Ichante and Uncas were as reserved as her and well, Mikayla could not talk yet. When they arrived at the cabin, Uncas told Alice he was going night fishing with Ichante at the stream beyond the clearing. "Should we go with you?" Alice asked nervously, her eyes darting around the cavernous space.
"Stay and rest. It's safe here. We won't be long," Uncas responded staunchly. Alice answered automatically, "If you say it is safe, it must be safe." A flicker of recognition crossed his features and he gazed at her enigmatically. "Just stay inside and you'll be fine," he finally said. With that, he motioned for Ichante to follow him and the two disappeared through the door.
Eight years ago
"Stay here," Uncas ordered Alice, depositing her in the middle of tall, thick ferns. Iroquois had just raided the Delaware camp. Uncas intended to hide Alice in a safe place and hurry back to help fight them off. Alice seized his wrist and demanded worriedly, "Where are you going?" Uncas untangled her fingers from him, "Have to go back to camp." "What if you get hurt again?" Alice implored desperately. "Don't worry. There aren't that many of them. Will come back for you after we chase them away. Promise me you won't move from here," Uncas said, cupping her cheek tenderly. Alice covered his hand with hers, "I promise. If you say it is safe, it must be safe." Uncas' heart flipped at the absolute trust shining in her eyes. Alice.
"Father?" Ichante's voice broke through his sentimental reverie. When the boy saw he had gotten his father's attention, he went on, "We have caught enough fish. Should we go home?" Uncas studied his son's shadowed face, "You are worried about your mother and sister." Ichante blushed, "It's their first night here...they must be a little scared." Uncas squeezed his son's shoulder, "You're right. Let's go back. We can grill the fish for supper tomorrow." "Does...she like fish?" Ichante queried shyly. She. Ichante could not bring himself to say the word "mother" yet. "If I recall, your mother eats everything except snake and squirrel," Uncas mused. "And carrots, " Ichante added gleefully. "And carrots," Uncas concurred with mock gravity, but his heart was twisting at the happiness on his son's face. Happiness brought on by the knowledge he had something in common with his English mother.
Alice decided she would wait for Uncas and Ichante in the living room. Mikayla was already sleepy, tossing and turning on the blanket that Alice had laid on the floor. But she was not attuned to the sounds of the night in the wilderness, jerking and sitting up each time she heard the howl of an animal or the loud rustle of the wind. Alice positioned Mikayla's head on her lap and started patting her back in a slow, steady rhythm. She started to hum the lullaby that her mother used to sing for every night.
"When will Mikayla start to talk?" Ichante wondered out loud. Father and son were nearing the cabin, each carrying a bucket of fish. "When she is ready," Uncas answered unperturbedly, then he stopped in his tracks and lifted his head, letting the cool night breeze waft over his face. Ichante trotted ahead, bounding up the stairs of the cabin. Uncas lowered his head a few seconds later and realised Ichante stood frozen at the doorway, not entering the cabin.
Uncas joined his son at the door and was going to ask why he was not going into the cabin when he noticed that the boy's lower lip was trembling. Alice and Mikayla were spread on a blanket in the living room. Alice's voice echoed around the cabin as she softly sang to the sleepy Mikayla, her blond hair and face glowing in the firelight. She was dressed in a simple white gown, her legs curled underneath her. Uncas returned his attention to Ichante - tears were rolling down his cheeks now and he seemed unaware that he was crying. His eyes were fixed on his mother, his hands balled into fists at his side.
Alice hummed the lullaby for the umpteenth time as Mikayla was finally lulled to sleep. Alice continued to sing, her head swivelling towards the door, anxious for the return of Uncas and Ichante. Her voice hitched when she saw Ichante standing there, tears pouring down his cheeks. Uncas was behind him, staring at Alice keenly.
"Somewhere deep inside him, he remembers." Ichante in his sub-consciousness recognised the lullaby. She had sang it to him each time she had put him to sleep since the day he was born till the day she had handed him to Cora. Uncas was right.
Alice did not stop singing, keeping her gaze locked on her son. His tears kept flowing, his silver eyes glistening, his features drawn tightly. Alice felt tears leaking from her eyes and slithering down her cheeks. Her heart ached so much that she felt as if she was suffocating. Uncas did not move but he gripped Ichante's shoulder protectively.
Gulping down her tears, she croaked, "Callum?" Ichante's eyes flashed like lightning and he took a step towards her. But then he changed his mind, and ran into Uncas' bedroom, slamming the door shut. Alice scrambled to her feet to go after him but Uncas stopped her, "Let him be." Alice nodded shakily, "He recognises the lullaby. I sang it to him every day... every day... I -" She trailed off, overcome with emotion. "His spirit remembers even though his mind doesn't," Uncas stated quietly, walking over to Alice. "I'll talk to him. Take Mika inside, " Uncas instructed. Alice obediently picked up the sleeping Mikayla from the floor and carried her into the their room, her gait unstable.
Uncas pushed open the door to his room. Ichante was standing by the window, his head bowed. Uncas did not approach his son but instead sat down on the pile of fur in the middle of the room. And waited patiently. Ichante would talk when he was ready. After about 15 minutes, Ichante spoke brokenly, "She really is... Mama... isn't she?" Uncas grunted in confirmation but said nothing else. Ichante went on chokingly, "I can't remember anything... but that song... I've heard it a thousand times... Mama singing it to me..." At that, the boy broke down, his shoulders trembling with silent sobs. Uncas crossed the room and enveloped his son in his arms tightly, "She really is Mama, your Mama," Ichante clung onto Uncas, burying his sobs into his father's shoulders.
Alice lingered at the door to Uncas' bedroom. She could not understand one word of what transpired between Uncas and Ichante but she had caught the word "Mama" a few times and could make an educated guess. She was tempted to rush into the room and hug Ichante but she held back - Uncas was right. Ichante needed time. She could wait. Alice spun away from the door and walked down the narrow corridor.
Uncas covered Ichante with a blanket and stood up - the boy had cried himself to sleep. Now he had another person to comfort. He padded soundlessly to the living room - he knew instinctively that Alice would not be in her bedroom. The cabin's main door was open and he could see Alice sitting forlornly on the steps outside. Uncas yanked a quilt from a stand and headed outside.
He threw the quilt over her and settled down on the stairs, his legs brushing hers. Alice's face was pale but she appeared composed. "I have hurt him so badly," she sighed heavily, stubbing her toes on the lower step. "You had your reasons. He understands," Uncas issued emphatically. "Does he really?" Alice uttered despondently.
Alice added, "Because after so many years, I still do not understand why you sent me back to England," Uncas stiffened instantly, "You didn't belong here," Alice whipped around to glare at him, her cheeks flushed, "I refuse to accept that explanation any longer. Tell me exactly why you deem it fit to chase me away. What did I do wrong? What unforgiveable sin did I commit?"
"You did nothing wrong," Uncas refuted harshly, his hands shooting out to grasp her shoulders, "Nothing."