A/N
Friday Hi day.
Another chapter.
I have a funny and silly little story to share, I agonised (when originally writing this) for about an hour over if Uncas' bangles were silver or gold (I've heard it describe in stories from way back as both metals before, everyone seems to have their own headcanon on it.)
My eye sight is not the best... so I ended up bringing in two family members and getting them to stare at parts of the movie scene by scene for 10 minutes with me and also sending various random movie photos to friends to get their opinion and the poll came back gold. So, I went with the majority. It does seem to look different from the silver of his earring, what are your opinions? Was Uncas into his bling? :))
I would like to know I'm not the person driving myself nuts over the tiniest things!
I know in the end it really does not matter anyway they are just bracelets... but there you go, an in-depth look into my crazy, nit-picking writing process.
Any reviews are as always most welcome and I thank anyone spending their time leaving them.
Enjoy!
/
They all huddled in the cabin as Erin frantically told them the story all over again. There was no questioning, just a flurry of activity as the family packed essentials. Within moments they all burst out of the dimness into the bright sunlight of the meadow and were running across the grass, the smallest child on Erin's hip, her little chubby arms wrapped around Erin's neck.
John led the way, a small bag of essentials tied to his back, and directly ahead of Erin was Alexandra, with James, the eldest, clutching her hand. They made it without issue into the tree line and were away, along hidden trails and overgrown brush, John stopping every now and again to check they left no trace to be followed.
Everything was left behind, precious or not, livestock, food, even the dogs.
Finally, after what felt like hours to Erin, they stopped at a jut of rocky land surrounded by trees. Erin let little Lizzie slide down her body to her own feet, Erin's breath coming in short, harsh rasps as sweat trickled down her back.
"It's safe here," John said, after a short moment of catching his own breath. "We can shelter in the rock overhang until tomorrow. Then I'll travel on back, check it's safe."
Erin put her hands on her hips, the too tight stays made it much harder for her lungs to draw in air. She nodded.
"Today is the day I heard the French men say they would be coming on your home. If we can make it until the morning I think we'll be safe. They'll have moved on."
They settled in to the mossy floor beneath the jutting rock, the dip of ground hiding them from prying eyes. Blankets were rolled out on the ground or placed around shoulders, food and drink shared, as they awaited the outcome of their frantic flight from danger.
No fire was lit as the evening fell away to darkness, the children slept on Alexandra's and Erin's laps, content to doze in the mild night air. John stood watch, his form molded into the lines of the rock beside them, a loaded musket in his hands.
Alexandra's shoulder gently nudged Erin's. "I don't know how we can thank you. Giving us warning, it might have saved our lives."
Erin smiled, feeling a warmth of certainly uncoil the dread in her stomach slightly. "I hope so."
The morning dawn air was crisp, with damp dew on the moss bed they had spent the night on. Erin had gotten very little sleep, but it was the same story for them all, apart from the children. She awoke to find her head had softly lolled onto Alexandra's shoulder at some point, and she pulled herself up, careful not to wake Lizzie who was still sprawled across her like she was her own personal bed.
When all had awoke they ate a little of the food they had brought and drank from the water skins. John, without much discussion, made his way back to the homestead while they all waited with bated breath, hoping that his return would signal the danger was over, if he did return.
Erin shivered at the thought. She didn't know what her actions would change – yes, the Camerons were here, not lying dead on the porch of their burnt out house, but that didn't mean they were safe. The war party may have waited, taking advantage of an empty house to rest themselves, or just lingered for the owners to return. She only knew what she'd read in the history books, and that was that a family by the name of Cameron had died yesterday.
Everything else was now a mystery.
Time slid by slowly, but finally a crunching of boots came to all their hearing, and they stood up straight, the children pushed behind them as they awaited whoever approached. John's familiar form emerged from the undergrowth and both women gave out a low sigh of relief.
"Thank God," Alexandra said, rushing into her husband's arms.
"I'm fine, Alex." He patted her back tenderly.
"The house?" she said, releasing him.
He looked grim and shook his head slowly. "All burnt out, nothing taken. It's just as Miss Erin said it would be."
Alexandra grasped at her chest. "We would have been part of that, if it hadn't been for..." She glanced behind her to where Erin stood, looking tired and a little bedraggled. She rushed to the younger woman, pulling her into a fierce embrace. "Thank you," Alexandra said, holding back a sob in the base of her throat.
Erin hugged her back.
"We should head on back, take what we can and head for safety, to the nearest town," John said, gathering up their belongings.
They made their way slowly back towards the cabin, still a little skittish to any new or unexpected sound.
Erin's thoughts had time to mull over the situation in the silence. If the Camerons were alive, did that mean everything was changed, or would this still be the day the Munro party would come upon the cabin? She tried to imagine how she'd feel, seeing all the main characters she'd followed on many cold nights, each time joining them on an adventure they lived over and over in her imagination, but it seemed her mind thought the whole thing ridiculous.
When the meadow came into view, Erin saw John had been right, there was nothing left, just a blackened shell that yesterday had been a warm and cozy home.
"See what we can salvage, I don't think they'll be in a hurry to come back," John said, and they all set about combing through the remains, pulling out cooking pots and other household items that had managed to survive the fire.
They worked for some time before stilling for a break and some and water. Erin reached into her pocket and pulled out her sketch book, her hands working at a fast pace as inspiration unexpectedly hooked her, her strokes rushed and sloppy. Soon they were back to work. So much could not be saved, so much was destroyed, and nothing, not even food had been taken. She could see the lines of distress upon all of the family's faces.
Erin glanced about, wondering where the dogs were, but finally assumed they had run off into the wood, the alternative, she didn't want to dwell on. The little enclosure, a little way off, that kept chickens was still and silent, a mass of feathers fluttering in the breeze. A fox maybe... or perhaps the war party really had just destroyed everything in spite. She became aware as the morning wore on, the sun heating the land, that there was a distinct tang of iron in the air too, and Erin reminded herself with a shiver not to venture too close to the stables.
"Hallo John!" A hail came from the tree line, and John lifted his musket in reflex towards the sound.
Erin slowly got to her feet, wiping the sweat from her brow and unknowingly streaking her skin with the remains of black ash, her heart speeding up its rhythm.
Out from the trees, melting from the very vegetation with their stealth, emerged the lithe and quick forms of three tall men, each carrying their own muskets.
Her eyes lingered over each. Leading them was an older, stocky man, in perhaps his 50s, his long black hair twisted into a knot upon his head with two braids resting upon either shoulder. His face bore the lines of blueish tattoos, a snake of some kind winding its way across the left side of his brow, a large silver disc hung from his ear, and a heavily beaded necklace was wrapped about his throat. His clothes, as of the other two men, were well worn and functional, linen shirts and buckskin leggings; beaded and leather belts criss crossed their waists, filled with many items, weapons and small bags, things that Erin didn't think she could begin to name.
Behind him came a young man, in his 20s she guessed, the resemblance to the older man was clear in his high cheekbones and handsome sharp features. His eyes, hooded and dark, were shifting constantly around him with a deep intelligence. His hair was in a simple and functional pulled back style, the tail wrapped with colorful red and white beads and stiff cord, a prominent red feather emblazoned against the long black silken strands. On one side he had a thin braid. A single long earring gleamed in the light.
Last to undergo her scrutiny was a white man, who seemed so out of place at first glance; but his clothes were similar, his air the same as the duo he accompanied, that it was clear in that second, this was a family. His features were broad and strong, handsome yet rough. His hair was also long and pulled back from his face in a similar fashion to the other young man.
The older man strode forward, his gun lowered as he reached out towards John who had suddenly dropped his musket barrel, now only grasping it limply.
"You find us at a bad time, Chingachgook."
The name was so familiar to Erin that her eyes widened, her fingers spasming once again in that unpleasant jolt of knowing all these characters that had now suddenly become real people.
"My friend, are you and your family safe? We tracked the war party up the river," Chingachgook said, coming to grasp John's wrist with his hand in greeting.
"We are, thanks be to God and that young woman over there." He gestured to Erin with a turn of his head, and suddenly she felt all eyes upon her. She felt like a strange artifact in a museum, as each man's gaze took her in, evaluating her from looks to posture, clothing to ashen smears.
"Family?"
John shook his head. "A stranger, attacked by the war party a few days ago."
"We saw no signs of another attack," the man Erin knew to be Nathaniel Poe said, with certainty.
"Not true my son, there was blood at the waterfall," Chingachgook said. Nathaniel and Uncas reacted to these words, heads tilting, trying to perceive what this information meant. "We thought it was an injured deer."
Nathaniel nodded, but said nothing.
"Another?" John asked, interrupting the private discussion.
"Party heading to Fort William Henry were attacked on the road, betrayed by their scout. We came along in time to stop a full on slaughter."
"How many killed?" John was looking grimmer by the moment.
"Most of the soldiers, we are escorting three, two women and one officer to the fort."
"Women? Good god Nathaniel."
"It was their wish," Chingachgook said, before his eye was caught by the form of Alexandra who was coming to greet them. "I'm glad you are well." He smiled warmly, his friendly affection for the Camerons clear in his tone.
"All thanks to this one." Alexandra touched Erin's elbow gently, but the slight contact made her jump in surprise, she had been so lost in the conversation, like she was watching a movie.
"And how is it this girl was your Saviour?" Nathaniel said, with pursed lips, his eyes still studying her, trying to discover her secret.
"She stumbled right up to my door, bleeding," John said, smiling with bemusement at the memory.
"We think she'd been lost for hours, maybe days," Alexandra put in. "She warned us the party was coming, that she heard them mention our homestead being next. Without her, you'd only have found our cold bodies, of this I'm sure." She reached for Erin protectively and Erin relaxed at the reassurance.
"Well, Miss, you really are a Saviour," Nathaniel said, with a nod of gratitude towards her.
Erin wanted to reply, she wasn't a shy person but she found all her words seemed lacking, so she just nodded.
"What did they take?" Nathaniel turned his attention back to John.
"That's the thing Nat, they didn't take anything! The horses, food, things they could sell, even the beer. They left it all."
Nathaniel passed a look between his brother and father. "Likely they were not looking for a raid then."
"My thinking is they want to get rid of as many of us as they can, panic those fighting." John's hand reached for James, patting the boy lightly in reassurance that they were all indeed safe.
"What will you do now?" Chingachgook asked.
"Well, we can't stay here. We'll have to walk to the nearest town, find protection there."
Erin noticed the man she knew to be Uncas, who had remained so silent, but ever watchful, disappear back into the woods, and a few moments later he returned with three more people in tow.
A blond haired British officer in a stained yet very fine red uniform, the brass buttons shining in the sun. Behind him came who Erin knew to be Cora and Alice Munro. Cora was dark and fine boned, her brown eyes full of curiosity, but her countenance was set with a level headed, restrained air. Alice was young and very beautiful, not yet past her teens. Her hair was the color of spun gold and she clung to her older sister for dear life.
She looked so frightened, so very young, that Erin felt her heart pull in a sickening drop. This sweet innocent girl would be dead, jumping to her death from the lonely heights of a great cliff face in what may have amounted to only a weeks time, joining the warrior who had tried so valiantly and in vain to save her.
At this thought Erin's eyes moved to the young man, his brown skin glowing in the warm light, picking out the startling blue lines of tattoos on his forearms that were exposed by his half rolled up sleeves, the sun gleaming off many gold bangles on his wrist as he listened to the conversation around him intently. He was so real, right there before her eyes. She swallowed as she took him in, her mind seeing him die, bloody and defeated, thrown from that very same cliff.
Suddenly his gaze was upon her, holding her in direct eye contact, eyes narrowing in what felt to Erin like a demanding question. Quickly she looked away, her cheeks heating with being caught gaping at him.
As the conversation went on around her, she vaguely heard introductions made, polite greetings, Erin found her thoughts drifting, her eyes drawn to the blue sky, and she watched, detached for a moment, as the clouds drifted dreamily overhead.
She'd saved the Camerons hadn't she?
She pulled a breath into her lungs, pushing out her chest like a proud bird. Surely she could save these two people before her, couldn't she? Is this why she was here, to change a wrong, to set the world to rights?
Squinting up at the bright day, Erin's mind was indeed set, she would save them, these star-crossed lovers. To what end, she didn't know, but that was what she would do.
She smiled a little and returned her gaze back to the present, only to feel that familiar jolt as Uncas' eyes met hers again, his look wasn't exactly unfriendly - but it wasn't welcoming either.
He narrowed his gaze as if he could sense something he didn't quite like about her, and Erin felt her heart give a few hard anxious hammers; but then just as quickly he was joining in with the discussion of the party's next move, as if she wasn't even present, his eyes never drifting to her again, and Erin convinced herself she had been mistaken.
