Cora had left after finally convincing herself to visit Mr Phelps for a short moment and offer aid in anyway she could before they left..

She left the door to Munro's private quarters open, so the guard stationed outside had full knowledge of his charge. Cora trusted Erin, but she knew her father did not.

Erin sat upon a chair, casting a wary eye towards the solider every now and again. Alice was fussing over which food to bring with her, and finally left a chunk of day old bread in favour of the fruit cake she still had left, wrapping it tenderly into a lace hemmed handkerchief before carefully placing it within a cloth bag.

Erin could feel the young girl's curious eyes upon her periodically, along with low intakes of breath that never quite made it past lips to form a question. Knowing she could not put off this conversation forever, Erin finally turned her attention fully to Alice, who now looked as if she had no further interest than the tasks before her, her eyes never straying from what her hands were doing.

"I suppose you will tell me nothing either?" she said, after a short moment of silence and a quick glance, reminding Erin startlingly of Colonel Munro's knack of appearing unconcerned and collected in the face of vast intrigue, the same faraway look to her eyes, a bluff well learned.

"I think Cora can explain things better than I can," Erin rebuffed, Cora's promise at the front of her mind.

Alice nodded, but once again that fleeting frown of disagreement was upon her brow, a look that Erin had noticed many times over the last few days.

"We..." Erin felt she owed Alice more, "just need to get out of here. Trust Cora and trust me... if you can."

"I trust Cora, and I think I trust you." Alice looked up at Erin directly, eyes connecting with a firm meaning. "You are the first real friend I've had that does not make me feel... like my thoughts don't matter, or a petite sotte. Even Cora... sometimes she looks at me like... I do not know what I want, or how the world is." She paused, her brow knitted in an angry frown for a fleeting moment, then it passed and she gave a careless lift to her shoulders. "And often, I do not know, the world is very cruel and I have been cloistered from it, but I am not inutile"

Erin smiled, the expression strained, as she wished she could convey how much she admired this young woman before her, not just from the novel, as a character she knew and loved, but from her unwritten, unrecorded actions here, for who Alice was. "I'm sorry anyone ever made you feel that way Alice."

Alice regarded her steadily for a moment. "But I was not sorry or aware at all before coming here; to this place, this land. I knew so very little of anything at all. Now I feel there is so much I want to know and understand." Unwavering her direct gaze, she tilted her head, eyes gently hooded with intelligent inquisitiveness. "I do not wish to be treated like a child anymore."

Erin sighed, it was such a rational request and she hated treating Alice like her opinions held no sway, but a promise was a promise. "I want to tell you everything but... I can't. Not now. If you can, trust me, just for a little while?"

Alice shifted, her body language unsettled and a little tense. "Alright, I will try."

"Thank you."

Alice returned her gaze back to her work, but she remained still, her shoulders now hunched in uncertainty as anxiety rippled through her body language "I just want to go back to Albany. I am... afraid." The confession was a mere whisper, emotion filled and raw. Alice glanced away, cheeks pinked, eyes a little watery.

Erin wanted to rush to her and wrap her in a protective embrace with hurried words of empathy, but saw the soldier watching them with an intent eye and thought better of any sudden movements.

"We will," Erin reassured, their eyes connecting, a firmness of certainty in her words she didn't really believe. "It's going to be okay."

Alice took a short moment to brush at her face, patting her cheeks and regaining herself back to her placid nature, the threat of despair that had caused her to feel so overwhelmed now seemingly pushed away for a short time. She returned to her packing, but Erin noticed, her eyes came back to Erin's form many times as if she had more to say but an apprehensive fog prevented her from speaking.

"Is there more you want to speak of?" Erin asked as gently as she could, wanting Alice to feel she could ask anything she wished. Even if Erin had promised to not reveal all the answers, she would try and be as honest as she was able.

"I..." Alice twisted in place a moment, hands clutching fingertips in what looked to Erin like a shy child's nervousness. "After our talk, and you let me see your drawings... well, I have begun my own art again. It helped with the épouvantable dreams, you see? When I couldn't sleep I drew and then I drew when I became wearied by Papa's constant talk of guns and defences. It passed the time and it made me content."

"That's great," Erin said, smiling, wanting to give this young woman any encouragement to deal with all the stresses and anxiety she had been subjected to.

Alice pulled out a little book of loose papers bound in leather, a length of twine wrapped around it to keep it shut. With a graceful hand she unwound it and came to Erin, leafing through the pages a moment until she felt bold enough to present her work to another's eyes.

"See? It is not any grand work. I could only find charcoal to use and it is a little messy."

Erin reached out, taking the book, eager to see.

There upon each page were various depictions of fort life. A woman washing clothing in a tub. A chubby child playing with a stick, a laugh bubbling upon his lips as if he would come to life at any moment. A solider slumped in deep fatigue, his tricorn hat hiding most of his stubble covered face. A Mohawk man smoking a pipe, an intricate braid with the plumes of feathers dancing in an unseen breeze. Her father, Colonel Munro, sat at his desk, a feather quill in hand, a look of fraught nobility to his brow. Cora napping, hair splayed loose across the pillow, dark and light shading contrasting vividly, utter exhaustion and beauty battling to win out in the depiction. It wasn't like art from this time, or at least none Erin knew, it was gritty and passionate, fairy-tale and dark folk story, realism butting against ethereal.

Erin felt the slow encompassing realization that Alice had a remarkable talent. Erin's eyes flicked to each frank line and wrinkle of every subject, each complexity and enchantment of the human form, and felt the meaning within her bones. This was, in essence, true artistry in a way she had only seen in books and upon museum walls.

Erin was surprised to see she was there on one page, her hair appearing to be a mass of nonconforming mess upon her head, only just brought to heel by her side braid, a flagrant sassy smirk upon her lips, but once again Alice had somehow made any flaws look exquisitely charming.

Amongst the subjects there was also Uncas, a sketch of him as he cleaned his musket, the bustle of the fort barely encroaching into the idyllic scene, as the viewer was asked to engage only with this man, his expression, his life, his pure beauty. Erin felt stunned.

"I know what you will say, but it is not so." Alice sounded a little too eager to put distance between herself and Erin's presumptions. "He is very striking to the artistic eye. I know you see it too as I have seen your own drawings."

Erin was only half paying attention to the words spoken, her mind still reeling from the discovery of just what Alice was capable of.

Alice gave a huff of annoyance as Erin remained silent, taking the hushed atmosphere as an accusation. "Shall I call you in love with him for it? You would deserve it!" Alice said, pulling back her book and pushing it protectively against her chest.

Erin blinked a little, startled at the sudden movement and allegation, her eyes floating to Alice's gaze and then quickly away, a flame of heat flooding into her cheeks.

Alice's mouth formed a tiny oval of surprise, eyes flicking to each of Erin's, trying to gain understanding. "Wait- Erin, are you... blushing?"

"I feel embarrassed about what I said before." Erin quickly blurted out the retort. "I really do let my imagination run away with me." She pushed a hand against her cheeks, briskly trying to force the uncomfortable emotions away. "But... your art Alice."

The words distracted the fair haired woman from her thoughts, and whatever counter charges she'd been about to say were pushed forcefully away by shy doubts. "What... do you like it? Or is it-"

"It's wonderful!" Erin pushed out the words in a flurry, wanting to make Alice understand. "The way you draw people, the aesthetics are... I mean...I've never seen anyone capture so much of their subject, you can almost feel who they are. The way you draw faces... it's..." Erin's garbled words failed to explain just exactly how she felt. "You are really good."

"Ah arrĂȘte!" Alice smiled, cheeks flushing pink. "You'll make me blush."

The women laughed softly.

"Do you think I should continue?" Alice's tone was unsure.

"Absolutely!" Erin said without hesitation. "Your art is finer than most I've studied, you deserve admiration. I hope you will be one day, line whole walls with books about your technique and-"

The words made Alice laugh. "Me, in a book? Can you imagine! Papa would piquer une crise de nerfs if I ever dared! You really do have the strangest imagination."

Erin laughed knowing it must indeed sound like a strange notion to her ears. "Maybe. But it doesn't change the fact, that your art is admirable."

"Well, perhaps one day I will find someone who admires me and my art." She mused before flashing a grin at her little joke.

Alice returned to her packing, placing the book amongst her cherished items and Erin returned to her vigil of the wall and the solider, apprehension a fluttering butterfly against her ribs. Her mind pacing back and forth between everything with Uncas, the conversation with Munro, Alice's beautiful art and the ambush to come, an uneasy mix that left her feeling a little on edge.

"Erin?" The sound of her name made her start and look up once again from her inner musing.

"We will all be alright, won't we?" Alice's request for comfort was understandable and Erin couldn't deny her that little scrap of indulgence.

Erin smiled. "Yes, of course."

Once Cora had returned and they all felt as ready as they could ever be, they exited the room, knowing they would never return. The guard guided them back to Munro's office, where he and Duncan still discussed the day ahead. Erin took note that the men were lingering upon the place she had described the ambush taking place but held her tongue, knowing her undesired input would not be welcomed.

They walked out into the parade ground where havoc reigned wherever Erin looked. People rushed to and fro, trying to gather up the remnants of a life lived for months within these tiny walls.

Horses were brought, Colonel Munro and Duncan mounted theirs and Cora and Alice shared one. Erin wasn't offered a mount, but Munro tied her bonds to his saddle.

Erin scoffed inwardly, what did he expect her to do, run off into the wilderness?

"Is that really necessary father?" Cora said, sounding thoroughly displeased. "You cannot lead her by your horse like chattel!"

"We have no horses to spare," was the only reply Munro was willing to give.

"What of our ride to the road?" Cora pushed. "You cannot expect her to run alongside us?"

"She'll have a seat with me, if it comes to that." Munro pulled his horse away, signalling there would be no further discussion.

To a tune of traditional pipes and drums they made their way out of the Fort's gates and down to where the French army now waited. The Commander, Montcalm, a vision of French militia fashion, awaited them. Erin hadn't really known what to expect, a moustache twirling villain perhaps? But Louis-Joseph de Montcalm looked like a very average looking man in his mid forties. His face was fair, but hardened with many years of army life. His very dark brows seemed to be in opposition to his very white wig. His lips quirked in a knowing smile towards the approaching English.

How much did he know, Erin wondered? This man had overseen several battles over the last few months and he had seen the native warriors under his command 'disobey' orders again and again. Was he fully aware of what would happen now? In Erin's own time, no real truth was known of just what part the French had played in what was to come. Some historians said he knew and was a dastardly overlord of this oncoming calamity, and others that he was an honourable man, heroic in his defence of the English.

His dark eyes twinkled and Erin became convinced he knew something of this outcome, no matter his actions or protests later. How much, she didn't know, but she assumed the truth lay in some muddied grey area.

He bowed in his saddle respectfully as Colonel Munro passed but Munro did not look his way, only saluted his peer in kind.

"Monsieur, the fort is yours." Munro's eyes were forward, never straying to the French victors, his pride too great for it.

Erin glanced back as they passed by, the smile still upon the Commander's face, he looked thoroughly smug.

Montcalm shouted out a few orders, and as Erin watched, the French soldiers came, six men on horses, fully armed. They surrounded Munro and those near him, the extra guard. They were moving away then, a long line of people snaking out towards the wilderness, towards an uncertainty that Erin knew would be a terrifying ordeal.

They just had to survive it.

Munro's horse pulled forward and she was tugged back into pace, the drum beats ever pounding, in what sounded so much to Erin like a funeral dirge.

/

A/N

Another Friday, just about (I may have missed a few of you) Hello anyone out there.

I hope you enjoyed and now we are away, out of the fort and into uncertainty. I hope you'll return to find out what happens.

A little story you can bypass... but read on if you will.

I nearly did not make todays upload, because dear reader I was drunk!

But it was not my fault! It was my day off, so off I went on a very hot day in jolly old England to visit Sherwood Forest of Robin Hood fame, it was a very good day, much fun was had. Dinner was then eaten at a local pub, with a rather larger glass of gin (which was meant to be only a single shot of the stuff.) Huh, thought I, what a very large amount this gin looks, but tis surely melted ice on this fair balmy day! No! Dear reader, I was drugged by the bar maid! Not paying attention as she made my drink, the lady had poured me 3 (YES THREE) double shots and I drank it on down. Finishing my chicken was quite the feat as I wondered why the world suddenly went sideways. Much apologies and water was given but by then I was very far gone. I returned home, slept a few hours and am back to try and make my upload, Pity this poor hungover writer a little lol

I truly hope this made you smile, it has been a very odd one! :)))