I remember it clearly.

The whole village was waiting longingly for the hunting patrol to return. Children began to whine at their parents, demanding food. Elders had started the cooking fire and were chatting merrily among themselves.

I walked along the clutter of wooden houses to find something to do. My stomach was growling like a feral beast, so I needed something to take my mind off dinner. In the end I sat down with the huddle of elders by the trees that lined the village.

"Hello, Kaniehtí:io," Nitika said, smiling feebly up at me. "You have come to join us!"

"Nitika!" I lowered myself onto a tree stump beside her. "How are you?"

"Not bad," she sighed.

I frowned. There was a hint of sadness glimmering in her eyes. "Is something troubling you?" I asked.

She waved me away. "No, no. It matters not. How are you, my dear?"

"Erm..." I paused. "Good. But Nitika, something appears to be on your mind. What is the matter?"

She held a hand to her forehead and huffed. "Well, it is not important. Only..."

"Only what?"

"My son," she replied. "I have fallen out with Koshisigre."

I clasped a hand to my mouth. "What? Why?"

This was shocking. When my father and two brothers were found murdered by Englishmen while out hunting, Nitika had helped my heartbroken mother to raise the remaining child: me. Her son Koshisigre had always been like a brother to me, as I'd lost my own. There were four years between us, and now at his age of nineteen, he was a strong young man and an extremely skilled archer.

But Nitika was hardly an easy woman to fall out with. What had sparked the argument?

"Well, it was something little at first. I must have asked him to help me a little more. 'You are a nimble young man, and I an elder,' I said to him, 'yet it is you who lazes about like a slumbering bear when there are jobs to do!'"

Other elders sitting nearby stopped what they were doing to "accidentally overhear" our conversation.

"And then...?" I pressed, ignoring them.

"And then he began to become annoyed. He said: 'How dare you accuse me, Mother! I am the one who has caught more meat for the Clan than some of the best hunters, even Ziio! I do NOT laze about like a slumbering bear!'"

"And...?"

"And I told him not to speak to his mother in such a manor," she continued, choking up tears. "That he should respect his elders, and in this case, his mother. Koshisigre claimed that nobody could tell him what to do: 'I am no longer a child.' That was before he snatched his bow and marched off to hunt."

"Oh, Nitika!" I offered her an embrace. "Do not let it worry you. He is at a stage in life in which he is carefree. Let him go, and he will cool his head while he hunts. He will want to apologize after he is back."

The old woman's head creaked slowly upwards. She smiled. "You are a wonderful child, Kaniehtí:io," she said. "Thank you for your console."

Suddenly heads all around us rolled towards the village entrance. Three of our men burst through a hedge in a frenzy. Mutters filled the air with suspicious hisses like snakes.

"The hunting patrol is back!"

"So soon?"

"They were not due now!"

"What are they doing so early?"

"But they have no meat!"

"Why are they running?"

"Why are they looking so worried?"

"I thought there were four men out hunting this afternoon."

They continued to sprint towards us. It was Heammawihio, Alo and Canowicakte, all red-faced and looking completely terrified.

Nitika stood bolt upright on her brittle legs. "Where is my son?" she asked. "Where is he? Where is Koshisigre?" her voice rose hysterically.

Heammawihio's eyes were bulging with trauma. He faced the old woman, panting. "No time! Quickly! Where are the ropes? He has fallen onto a cliff!"

"No!" she cried. She began to sob in distress. "What? How? Is he alright? Oh, my son, my son!"

He ignored her. "Kaniehtí:io! You deal with Nitika. Alo! You fetch the ropes. Canowicakte! See to it that Koshisigre is still holding onto the cliff. Go! Quickly!"

"Is he injured? Is he safe? Heammawihio, is my son alright?!" Nitika yelled between huge gasps for air.

"Koshisigre was standing a little too close to the edge. The rock beneath his feet was weak, and thin, and...and it crumbled. He fell almost straightaway! He gripped the edge and is still hanging on! No time! We must help him!"

HAYTHAM

It was only a small errand. Only one letter to deliver to Lexington. Could I not even do that without running into Ziio? For my own good, I hoped so. For my own good alone.

But no. Not...exactly.

As I rode leisurely through the lukewarm afternoon sun, I couldn't help but feel disappointed that Ziio was not there. I had tried to tell myself:

NO. She will NOT be there so do not expect to see her.
She has every single time I've ventured out.
Luck, it would seem. You have to stop thinking of her too much.
Not luck. It seems to be a pattern.

I tried to exercise the thought that I would not see Ziio again for a while in my head. But it was pointless: I knew it to be false. With what I thought of the Mohawk at the moment, I would go looking for her, if I had to. Indirectly, of course.

But I knew that even that was hopeless.

Until...

Who is that running in the distance?

I squinted. A young man dashed across the landscape in front of me. The unkempt black hair. The animal skin cloth. The frilled boots. I felt a rush of excitement. It could only be...

A Mohawk man!

I didn't realise what I was doing. I nudged my stallion into a trot. Was he running to me? No. He did not look focused that far into the distance. What would he be doing out here?

Now I was close enough to read his expressions. His eyes...they were stricken with terror. He sprinted determinedly towards his destination. Where is he heading?

That was answered when he spoke. He saw me riding by and he cried out: "Please, sir! You must help!"

"What is the problem?" I asked.

"No time to explain! Come, quickly!" He beckoned for me to dismount.

Well, I thought, the letter to Lexington will have to wait. The young Mohawk indicated a cliff not far down the hill. "This way!" he shouted.

"What has happened?" I asked, breaking into a run.

"My friend has fallen off a cliff!" he panted.

I couldn't help it. It was instinct. "Who?" I demanded quickly.

"Koshisigre! He is down here! Come!"

I breathed a sigh of relief to myself. It wasn't Ziio. It was someone else. This man may not have even been in the same tribe as Ziio. But, it would be heartless to turn away now.

We stopped at the edge of the cliff. The man crept forward on his stomach. "I can see him. Koshisigre!"

CANOWICAKTE

"Koshisigre!" I cried out.

He strained to talk while clinging to the boulder below. "Canowicakte!" he croaked. "I cannot...hold...much...longer!"

"Please!" I called in a panic. "Try to hold on! Please! Help is on its way!" My heart was going to burst with all the adrenaline. Not good adrenaline.

"I am trying! It is not easy!"

HAYTHAM

"Is the man alright?" I asked.

"He cannot hold on much longer! There are some of my people coming to help!"

Ziio.
No! This is such an inappropriate time to be thinking of Ziio.
I cannot help it.
She will not come. She WILL NOT come. Now, focus on the Mohawk!

"What would you have me do?"

"Do you have any ropes? Anything to treat wounds? Anything at all that would help?"

"Yes...I think." That was when and idea struck my head like a lightning bolt. The Wright Tavern! There were plenty of supplies to help there! And it wasn't exactly a far ride. "I know! I can go back to where I came from and fetch more supplies that would help."

"Yes, please do! Quickly!" the man pleaded.

It took but a few minutes.

I didn't bother tying up my horse. I burst into the Wright Tavern. People started backwards in their seats like I was some sort of contagious disease, gasping.

"Oh my!"

"He certainly made 'is presence known, didn' 'e?"

"Why is he in such a hurry?"

"He didn't 'ave to try an' break the bloody door off!"

I ignored them. I dashed straight into the inn, dodging tables, up the stairs, round the landing, into my room, round the bed, to the cupboard. I flung it open with such a force it nearly came clean off its hinges.

I need bandages and rope. Bandages and rope.

My head scanned the shelves frantically. Did I even have any bandages? Yes. I did. I snatched at whatever looked like it might help, my mind in a whirl. At last my hands were full, so pivoting, I sprinted back outside.

ZIIO

Sometimes half an hour feels like half an hour, sometimes it feels like five minutes, and sometimes an hour. For Nitika and I, waiting for Heammawihio, Alo and Canowicakte to return dragged us through what felt like a year. Each passing moment in my hut was filled with a dull nothingness.