Erin took the spare cot in Munro's small sitting room, even though Cora protested that there was plenty of space in the bed. Erin had insisted, she wanted Cora to have a soft and roomy place to sleep and some privacy with her sister.
Besides, Erin had started to feel like she didn't deserve any comfort or kindness, the dark outline of her heavy thoughts told her just how useless she was, the voices she had tried so hard to put behind her in the last year reared their head in hungry enjoyment at her failures.
She tossed and turned on the straw filled mattress, trying not to go over the conversation with Uncas, but it was useless. The night's events played like a movie in her mind, and she tried to insert new scenes, ones where she had been witty and clever and brave, and he had believed her, and together they had saved everyone!
A silly daydream. She couldn't go back and change what had happened.
Then there was that moment between them. What had that been? It was so angry, so raw, and yes, hungry, like an electric current running between them – threatening, and ominous, and very...
'Wrong!' her mind screeched.
She felt unsure if he'd wanted to scream at her, slap her, or...
'Or what?' She silently dared herself to answer the question.
He'd looked frightening, and somehow, strangely beautiful in that moment, and her stomach fluttered at the memory.
No, no. She was wrong! She was looking into it with the wrong eyes! She knew it. It had been a very, very long few days, her emotions were high and flaring with everything that was happening. That was what that feeling had been. Of course she was going to find him attractive, he was a good looking guy, what with his long hair, handsome face, dark lashes, strong arms...
'Stop it, Erin!'
Yes, her logical side was right. What was she thinking?! She couldn't think of him that way, even if he had been her first ever literary crush.
'Bingo! Ding ding ding!' She gave herself an imaginary pat on the back for working out such a complicated situation.
This alone explained everything! She'd always wanted to be Alice in that story, loved so fiercely by one man, that he would die for you after only two sentences and a handful of wistful looks! It was a perfectly bittersweet romance.
She sighed in relief, very pleased with herself. She felt sure Sigmund Freud would have given her a pat on the back too.
Erin knew she needed to be strong and navigate this minefield of emotional pitfalls while still trying to manage her own foibles. She had to still herself for all that was to come, and then she had to find a way back home, she didn't belong here.
She must have finally fallen asleep because the next thing Erin knew, Cora was awakening her with a gentle shake and a simple spread of breakfast was laid out for the three women to partake in.
Nibbling a little distractedly at the corner of a piece of well done toast, which was only saved by copious amounts of butter, Erin watched, only half paying attention, as Cora and Alice talked, only catching some words between them. Something about sending a courier out before dawn with Nathaniel and Uncas' help, as the defending English tried to gather reinforcements from the nearby Fort Edward. Cora reassuring that all would soon be well, once they came, and they could all return back to Albany.
Erin knew all of this was useless. The courier would make it to Fort Edward, but another would be caught by the French with the returning message. Munro wouldn't know any of this, that there was no help coming, and the French were going to win. This was also something she would have to try and decide if she should say anything about or not. Her personal mission was to save Alice and Uncas, but she could try with Munro, even if she had no idea what she would say or do. It wasn't like she had a great record of anyone believing her stories so far.
Hoping that something brilliant would indeed come to her if she just gave it some thought and time, Erin joined Cora in the infirmary once again, and this time she helped with the rounds of seeing to patients. In all of Erin's life, never had she seen such suffering before. Men missing limbs and slowly bleeding to death, others dying an agonizing death from musket shot or shrapnel, and many others afflicted by some kind of infection from festering wounds. They cried and moaned, and the sounds and putrid smells made Erin feel sick and distraught all at once, the emotions pulling her in two directions - of wanting to rush and help these poor people and to run from the room covering her ears.
Mr. Phelps did all he could with his knowledge, but Erin knew many of these 'cures' were actually hastening these poor men's deaths. She watched, queasy, as one man was sliced upon the thin skin of his inner arm, near the elbow, the thick iron-smelling liquid drained to help with his fever; he was dead within moments, having already lost too much blood from his original injuries.
Erin wished she could have said this first death of the day was the worst, but it was not, there were many more to come.
More than once she had to dash away tears, that came unwanted to her eyes, in sorrow, distress and frustration at every pain suffered and every soul lost.
Erin quickly learned to clumsily stitch and bandage, and apply healing balms and tinctures that she could only assume were opium based. She thought it was perhaps the same thing Cora had given her, the liquid thick and reddish brown, smelling sweetly of honey and cinnamon to try and hide the bitter taste beneath. It certainly helped some of the men who were screaming or moaning the loudest to become quiet and sleepy.
In the very few sparse minutes of downtime, when Erin had a moment to wipe the sweat from her brow, she watched Cora, who was all calm determination and critical thinking through even the most harrowing times, with a kind bedside manner that put many a fearful patient at ease.
She tried her best to have snippets of conversation with Cora when it was practical to do so, about going to visit her father later. Erin would, after all, she pushed, like to meet him formally, and this seemed a better tack then causing a panic with prophecies of doom. If she could find herself in a calm composed environment with Munro, perhaps there was a chance, she had this last coming night before the parley tomorrow.
Cora was distracted by the vast amount of work to be done and seemed disinclined to commit to anything formal but promised Erin she would see if it would be possible after supper. Erin had to accept this scrap but relented that she didn't have to feel happy about any of it. Time still ticked by, and she had no real desire to try and explain any of this to a senior military officer. Erin didn't think Colonel Munro would give her even an ounce of the benevolent manner he afforded his own daughters.
Exhausted, grimy and bloody, Erin went back to the infirmary treatment room. There was a lull in work and she had been sent to make more bandages, there never seemed to be enough. After washing her hands and herself as best she could in a clean bucket of water, she stilled, her fingers clutching the lip of the wooden bucket, knuckles turning white. She wanted to cry, today had been so emotional and hard, but she bit her bottom lip, repressing it all, she didn't have time...
"We must speak." His deep voice nearly made her skin jump from her body.
She turned to see Uncas standing in the dimly lit room. Daylight never reached these parts of the barracks despite having some small crude windows for ventilation. Erin rose slowly, feeling her whole being shrink away from the mere notion of going back into the fray with him.
"She's busy. Come back later," Cora said, coming into the room, her brow speckled with sweat. "I need her now, come back after supper." She was too busy to give Uncas more than a nod of greeting as she flitted about making herb and honey poultices.
Erin felt relief flow through her veins. He couldn't corner her. She didn't think she had the strength or the will to go back into everything right now, not after seeing so much misery and death.
Later she would try, but not now.
She also knew Cora had just deliberately saved her, they were essentially on a break at this moment, most of the patients had been treated as best they could be, for the time being.
Uncas looked nettled by this information but did not argue with Cora. Instead he directed an intense glare at Erin. She had the distinct feeling that if this situation had been in her own time, he would have gestured to his eyes with two fingers and then pointed them at her in a threat. He turned and left, leaving a sour feeling in the room.
Cora had seen this silent exchange and her hands stilled in her task, eyes settling upon Erin.
"Thank you," Erin said, quickly returning to the duty of shredding cloth.
"Yes, I could see things were strained. What is going on between you two?" Cora asked, hands on hips.
"He's still mad," Erin said, with that same careless shrug.
"I think it's more than that Erin. I think you should go and talk to him and smooth things over, after you have both calmed a little."
"He doesn't want to hear anything I have to say." Sullen, and her limbs full of lead, Erin turned and began to stoke up the fire. She didn't want to talk about it.
"Perhaps he is so wounded by your words because he had started to enjoy your company?" Cora raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"Not this again!" Erin mumbled, and abandoned the fire and turned to face Cora, her cheeks flooded with indignant color, enough was enough. "Cora he doesn't like me at all. He thinks I'm some kind of witch!"
"Why would he think that?" Cora laughed in disbelief.
"Because he thinks I'm weird. Don't you think that too?" The pity party was coming back full swing.
"I think every culture has its differences. It's what makes us so fascinating to each other. I think he finds you fascinating," Cora mused, her tone playful, she was enjoying herself a little too much at Erin's expense.
Erin shook her head. "No, he likes Alice, Cora, he always has, from the very moment you all met."
Cora was taken aback and laughed like Erin had just told a very funny joke. "Alice is only a child."
It was Erin's turn to give a chiding look. "You don't really believe that."
"She hardly knows the world at all. How can she... how can he... it's preposterous."
"Why?" Erin felt stung, because she knew so many people would indeed feel that way about Alice and Uncas being together in this time.
"I can't imagine Alice with anyone but the pragmatic army officer my father always intended her to marry, who she always wanted, a husband of great standing in London." Cora was still smiling, finding the whole conversation very amusing.
"You were expected to marry someone too!" Erin accused. "Yet your feelings for Nathaniel are valid!"
"Mr Poe and I are not up for discussion!" Cora snapped, then paused, trying not to let the emotion sweep her away. "Besides," Cora shrugged, finding her amusement again, "this world could never make Alice happy." She gestured to the room around them, but Erin knew she meant everything about this place, its war, its brutality, its wilderness. "I know my sister, and I know she will long for a city and all its bustle and society until she is back there."
Erin bowed her head, knowing that Cora spoke some truth, but also knowing Cora didn't know how much a desperate situation can change everything, how much love could change the entire world! "Maybe you don't know her as well as you think," she muttered, and Cora let out a displeased sigh.
"I said no more stories." Thankfully for Erin, it seemed Cora had grown a lot of tolerance to her personality traits. Somewhere in Erin's mind she understood why, Cora was a true nurse, she could take any situation like water off a duck's back if she was in the right frame of mind.
"It's not a story." Erin felt the untruth in those words as soon as they left her lips.
"We will all be back in Albany soon and all this madness can be put behind us." Cora turned back to her poultices, sprinkling various herbs into the sticky, honey covered bandages.
There was something in the way Cora spoke those words that made Erin feel she did know there was more to all this than fanciful tales, and what was more, she was a little frightened by it.
"Are your feelings for Nathaniel madness? I don't think you believe that," Erin said softly, hoping to appeal to Cora's own emotions, her own want for love and freedom. Alice deserved that too.
This stilled Cora a moment, she was no longer carefree and flippant, Erin had hit a nerve. "I don't understand my... feelings... and I don't have time for them." Cora's cheeks flushed and she looked away.
Erin gave her a half hearted smile, suddenly understanding, Cora was frightened for herself too. "You will, tonight you will."
Cora gave her a puzzled look. "You sound like a fortune teller." She laughed, the tension and strain of the day unravelling. "I think this stifling room is making us both feel like cats on a hot backstone. Let's go and get some fresh air."
Erin nodded.
Cora quickly left the room to give one of the other women who were helping in the hospital her ready made poultices. When she returned they both removed their stained aprons as they emerged into the heat of the sweltering afternoon sun, the fresh air made them feel better, despite its tang of smoke and gunpowder.
In the distance a fire burned, perhaps it was some outer part of the fort itself now being reduced to ash, or perhaps it was all the many close campfires of the French, but it gave the far horizon an eerie foreboding glow even in the bright sunlight.
Cora eyed her doggedly for a short moment and Erin knew what was coming. "No more talk about Alice," she proclaimed, and Erin understood she had pushed her luck a little too much today.
"Sorry," Erin finally said, realizing that the morning's sombre activities had given both women nerves as taught as pulled string. "I know it's none of my business. It's just..." Erin pulled herself back, knowing she had to stand by her words, "I want you both to be happy, Cora, you and Alice."
"Happy?" Cora smiled, doubtful of Erin's meaning.
"You light up around him." She didn't have to explain who she was referring to. "I can see, the journey here has changed you."
Cora flushed a little again. "It's easy to say such things when you've lived a life of adventure."
"No," Erin said, shaking her head slowly, "it's easy to say such things when you've felt the weight of other's expectations of how you should live your life."
Cora glanced over at her, a little shocked. She looked as if she would say more but seemed to decide against it.
"You should go and rest, get something to eat," Cora said, squinting a little in the brightness.
"What of you? I know you won't do either of those things."
Cora smiled. "I'm used to it, I have accompanied my father on many of his campaigns. You are not, I can see how exhausted and wearied you are by it all."
"Thanks, I guess." They both laughed. "I'll come back later." Erin handed her stained apron over, and with a companionable pat, Cora smiled and returned back into the fray of injured and dying men.
Erin watched her a moment before her gaze was drawn back to the landscape before her, soon that hot sun would dip behind the horizon and by morning the fort would be in shambles.
She nodded, making a choice, and turned upon her heel, ready to try a different kind of battle.
/
She roamed the corridors, trying to remember the way to Colonel Munro's war room, or more correctly, the room he hardly ever emerged from. Alice had said he'd even had a cot brought in so he could strategize while he dozed. Erin thought it all sounded exhausting.
She didn't know what she would say, or how she could convince him of what was to come, maybe her brain would form a plan before she arrived at that point. The fact stood, she had to try.
The guard stood nearby was a large giveaway that she had finally found the correct place. She pushed the stray straggles of hair behind her ears, trying to tidy herself, but knew it was a pointless task.
Erin took a deep breath and stepped forward, ready. One of the guards moved in front of her before she'd reached the door to knock, blocking her way.
"Can I help you Miss?" He didn't even look down at her.
"I need to speak to Colonel Munro, it's quite urgent."
At this he glanced at her, his eyes taking her in, and a flicker of recognition rippled through his face. This had been her dance partner, the dashing, fetchingly ruffled, fair haired private.
"Oh, it's you!" She smiled and for a moment he seemed inclined to return the expression, but he pulled himself up taller, his mouth a sudden stony line, eyes forward.
"The Colonel is far too busy."
"But... it's urgent! You have to let me see him!"
"Sorry Miss, no one is allowed in without express permission."
"I'm a friend of his daughters, surely you..."
"Be off with you." The other guard had come closer and hearing this exchange had decided to intervene.
"But, as I just said, it's..." Erin tried again.
"We got no time for your nonsense, blowsabella!" His whole demeanour was dismissive and ungenerous.
The fetchingly ruffled private's cheeks went pink.
Erin wasn't one hundred percent sure how she'd just been insulted, but she knew she had been.
Erin tried to control the swelling anger at this man's outright attack, pushing it down to her toes with effort. "Rude," she mumbled, before forcing her voice to sound confident. "Look, can you just tell him..."
"Be off!" The crude soldier casually dove forward and grabbed her by the upper arm in a harsh grip before she could even protest. He swung her body around and, with a firm flat palm, smacked her backside with a hard blow that sent Erin stumbling a few steps away in indignant surprise.
She paused, stunned, and not quite believing that had just happened. "Hey!" She whirled back on her heel, ready to have at him, her finger pointed in accusation. "Don't you touch me!"
He was grinning, showing a rather ghastly array of tombstone like teeth. "Want another do you?" He made to come after her and Erin felt a rush of fear whip around her like a sudden gust of cold wind. His threatening actions made her retreat back a few steps. She felt suddenly very unsure of herself. "I'm up for some games if you want to play." He was still smiling as if this was a great new sport for him.
Erin's eyes instinctively went to the dashing private for aid, who tried to avoid her look. "Come on Thomason, let her be." His words held no conviction.
"Ahh," the man called Thomason said, his eyes raking across Erin's face and body. "She's not worth the chase anyway." He grinned again, and when Erin still made no move to go, he lunged a little at her and she recoiled, her whole body retreating from the sudden detection of true danger.
Erin took a short moment to regain herself, her hands balling into fists with the effort. Then she glared at him, her jaw set in disgruntled annoyance. "Fuck you!" she hissed, hoping she looked as threatening as possible, but in return she got a blank look. Thomason glanced back to the other private and they shared a shrug before he began to laugh in an unsavoury manner.
Erin knew there was nothing she could say or do, her gender had dismissed her from being important to these two men, and so with a huff of frustration she went on her way, feeling her nerves bristle with dejection and humiliation.
/
Erin walked back to her quarters, having gathered a small amount of cheese and bread from the kitchens, she hadn't realized how hungry she was until her plate was empty and her stomach uncomfortably full. The rooms were quiet, she was alone.
She rested a little, kicking off her shoes and allowing her tired feet a moment to be free. She tried in vain to forget the encounter outside Munro's room, but it was impossible, and left her feeling disheartened every time she replayed it in her mind. She would have to press Cora, or perhaps even Alice to take her, she knew she wouldn't be able to gain access on her own. Even then, the Colonel could easily dismiss her without listening and it would put both the Munro sisters in quite the uncomfortable position, having their so-called friend spout doom-mongering speeches about ambushes and blood enemies. Either that, or she'd be labelled a spy and then... then what? Did they execute people for spying in this time? She gulped, a lump forming in her throat.
She didn't know what to do or how to go about it. She decided that her only real plan was to go and try to talk to Uncas again, but then, would he even listen? He'd tried to talk to her earlier and now she regretted not speaking to him... but then... she'd still felt his anger radiating from his body in waves that made her want to retreat and not deal with all the mess she had created.
She supposed she'd have to put her big girl pants on and face up to the consequences of her actions. The food in her belly settled like lead, causing her stomach to ache, and she found she couldn't force herself to 'up and at 'em', instead she lingered.
Erin dozed for a short time before rousing herself, her eyes glancing across the many items of silver tableware on shelves that looked so very out of place here in these rustic surroundings.
Her eyes caught the glint of crystal cut glass and amber liquid within, and she rose, her fingers enclosing around the bottle neck. She felt sure Cora wouldn't object to a little tipple, and a drink may just be the kind of Dutch courage Erin needed. Feeling very pleased with herself she left the rooms and made her way down the long dark corridor, following the now all too familiar pathway back to the infirmary.
Soft, whispered voices stalled her steps and she hesitated at the doorway. Through the flimsy cloth curtain she could just about see into the fire illuminated room, glowing with a rosy light. Inside stood two figures, one tall, muscular and lean, the other delicate, willowy and feminine.
Her eyes adjusted to the gloom and she saw Alice pass Uncas something, something white and about the size of a letter perhaps, a whisper of coyness on her face. Even in the dimness Erin could detect the slight pink flush which swept across Alice's cheeks. Uncas looked awkward, shy, as he accepted her gift. Their eyes connected, Alice's face seeming to gleam as a fresh blush rippled across her skin. Then he smiled and his whole face lit up, all impassivity abandoned to show this young woman before him he was genuinely happy. It was dazzling, like the sun breaking through cloud, and it took Erin's own breath away.
Neither said anything in the stillness, both just existing in whatever tender moment they had created.
It was beautiful, and Erin felt the ugliness of jealously creep across her bones, taunting her with everything she couldn't have. Loyalty, kindness and a deep and unwavering love.
These people died for each other!
Her footsteps moved backwards, wanting to escape it all, the situation, the scene, and her own bitter feelings. The slight shift of sound drew Uncas' attention, like a hawk upon his prey, his smile now gone, replaced by cautious vigilance. Erin quickly concealed herself against the wall, her heart drumming in her ears, tears springing to her eyes in response to her caustic emotions.
What she wouldn't give to be the beautiful graceful maiden, instead of the spooky weirdo, foretelling futures like some doomed prophetess. They all died, prophetesses, by beatings or fire usually, because no one liked a big mouth telling them how life was going to be!
The feeling of jealousy at her own OTP was the last straw. Erin decided, there and then, she was going to take this brandy and get thoroughly sloshed.
She pushed away from the wall and fled.
/
A/N
Another Friday, another chapter. I am doing rather well ;)
What can I say about this chapter but, Erin strikes again. I think most readers may be aware that her rational streak would not last, especially after a day of tending to the sick and dying and then being turned away from Colonel Munro's as if she is a nobody (she is, but it's still insulting! lol) I feel sorry for her and also like giving her a good smack to knock some sense into her but I don't think it would do any good. Erin is her own person, and she liked to remind me of that often, while I was writing this story. Whenever I picked a sensible action Erin would let me know that's not what she would do. Did it cause drama? Then Erin would probably have done it, while having all the best intentions and, good intentions pave the way to hell lol
I am really happy I got to use one of my most favourite insults that was popular in the 1700s in this chapter, blowsabella. I've wanted to use it in a story for years but I have not written a story set in the 1700s for a long time, so I finally got my chance here. For those curious it usually means a woman who's hair is dishevelled, is hot tempered and usually red headed. Very appropriate for Erin here.
Reviewers, readers or people just popping by are very welcome. I hope you found something to enjoy here.
In the next chapter, there are changes afoot and consequences that will... well you'll have to wait and see ;))
