How could I break such a heart? I thought of Black Fox, waiting out in the dark somewhere. They had risked all for me. How could I have countenanced such betrayal as this? I marvelled now that I’d ever thought to stay with Le Grand – truly I must have been bewitched.
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34
Black Fox
It was near sun rising and Le Grand had already departed for the harbour. The last and most precious cargoes were loaded last and he didn’t trust the clumsy oafs and pilfering rogues from the trading house. He wanted to be there to supervise himself. We were to follow along after in time to catch the morning tide.
Ports are busy places and when a boat is about to depart there is always much confusion. At the quayside was a great mêlée with passengers and sailors mixed with traders who had come to see their goods safe on board. A scattering of natives moved among the throng, some acting as porters, some to trade, some merely curious. Canoes bobbed near the hulls of the ships. Ephraim ran to the edge of the quay, as if overcome with boyish excitement at sights and sounds new to him. He came back to tell me in English that Black Fox’s canoe was down there in the water.
A pair of soldiers escorted us, but they seemed to know that I was special to Le Grand, so although we were watched, it was none too closely, and they were careful to take no liberties. I looked around as if in wonder at the crowd, and soon saw Black Fox at a distance, milling with the other natives, carrying a pack of furs as if to sell. He did not need to come closer. He used the silent signalling language of the woods that hunters use when they can make no sound. Ephraim signalled back and Black Fox melted out of the crowd to reclaim his craft.
There was no sign of Le Grand. The soldiers set to mind us were slow, sluggish from a night’s carousing. They stood fidgeting and yawning, talking to each other, drinking brandy to keep out the chill coming up from the river, taking hair from the dog that bit them the night before. I sidled closer, talking low as one might to gentle a pair of horses. They were already fuddled and slow from drink and the cold and the early hour. It was easy enough to lull them further until they noticed us no more.
‘How did you do that?’ Ephraim asked as we melted into the crowd.
‘Magic.’ The two soldiers sat on a barrel staring straight in front of them, as still as statues. ‘Talking magic. White Eagle taught me.’
We stole away through the throng. The docks before a ship departs are fraught places, with each person there intent on his own business, so no one noticed our going, nor heeded the quick dip of a paddle and the slight sound of a native craft cutting through the water. Patchy mist was coming up off the river. I hoped that it would obscure our escape still further as we flitted along the line of wharves until we found a deserted mooring. There we hid among dripping piles, set as close as a forest, and waited for Black Fox to come gliding towards us.
‘I won’t ever speak of it again,’ Ephraim said as we huddled together, ‘not if you tell me one thing.’
‘What thing is that?’
I knew what he was talking about.
‘Why did you do it, Mary? Why did you think to stay with him over Black Fox and me?’
‘It wasn’t because of you, Black Fox either. I can’t explain, not really. Besides ... ’ I looked down at his wide-set child’s eyes, his puppy-furrowed brow. ‘You’re too young yet. One day you’ll understand.’
‘Was it a kind of madness?’ Ephraim was reluctant to leave it; he did not like a puzzle.
I laughed. ‘You could say that. Perhaps he used a kind of magic.’
‘And it worked? Even on you?’ Ephraim stared at me, eyes full of wonderment.
‘Yes.’ I smiled, still savouring the taste of it: a mix of bitter and sweetness, like his chocolate. ‘It worked. Even on me.’
The tide was near the full, lapping at our feet. Soon it would be turning. I wondered if Le Grand had missed me yet. He was most anxious to leave; that much I knew. He would not want to wait for another tide with the ship ready and loaded; there was other business besides that meant he would want to leave immediately.
Would he risk all for me? A cannon boomed as if in answer. I hoped that it signalled the ship’s departure, but voices were hallooing along the docks and getting nearer. They were calling my name. He was searching for me.
I looked back to see him high on the rail of the ship, directing his men to fan out through the milling throng. His sailors were swarming up the rigging, taking lookout, their sharp eyes casting all up and down the shore for any sign of us. They were looking to the river. Le Grand was no fool. He would have told them to search for a native canoe. A couple of small craft pushed off, they were after Black Fox too.
‘See there!’
Ephraim pointed to where men were running along, they showed like a line of ghosts through the grey mist. They were following the route we had taken. Soon we would hear the beat of their booted feet on the wooden dock. Another group were coming upon us from the other direction and all the time the incoming tide was creeping up the piles, forcing us to retreat back towards the riverside. I looked at the river, peering through the swirls of mist, hoping to see Black Fox paddling towards us. There was no sign of him. Perhaps he was caught, or had been forced to detour to avoid his pursuers. Perhaps the strong current had swept him into the centre of the river. We were trapped. If we stayed we risked being swamped by the rising water; if we broke cover, they would see us sure.
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35
Kaniatarakaronte – the Door to the Country
A call came from the water, an eerie seabird cry. Ephraim answered with another and a canoe came gliding into view. We boarded quickly, each taking a paddle, for we were pursued. Black Fox guided the canoe out into the main stream. Native canoes and long boats were after us, some following strongly, others joining the river from the docks strung along the shore.
We played mouse and cat, in and out of the patchy mist, but the other boats were gaining on us, threatening from different directions. Use what magic is to hand, that was what White Eagle had told me. I conjured the mist to murky fog. Men shouted and cursed as boats bumped and collided and we struck out for the main river channel, trusting that the swift-flowing currents would take us away from danger.
The shouts and cries faded. Town and docks slipped behind us, replaced by louring cliffs and the silent, brooding presence of the woods. Black Fox pulled for a small inlet, and I changed out of my foreign clothes into native garb. I left the dress Le Grand had given me on the gritty sand. The wide skirts and petticoats lay at the edge of the water, looking for all the world like a woman drowned and cast up on the shore.
We paddled on, using the river’s flow to make our way to the Richelieu River which would take us back to Lake Champlain. We would travel the length of that great waterway and then strike off to the east, following the route Sparks Fire, Naugatuck and the rest of their band were taking back to their homeland. That was our intention, but fate had a different future ordained for us. We would never see our Pennacook friends again.
We were out on the lake proper, tiny as flecks of ash on a mirror, when the storm struck. A sudden rushing wind came from behind and we turned to find no margin between air and water. The lake was as black as the sky. It was as if the two elements would marry together. Water twirled in great whirling spouts, while waves as huge as any on the ocean rose up and threatened to swamp our frail craft.
We drove for the eastern shore but it was as if a great hand was forcing us westward. We were powerless. The storm was like some howling beast coming over the lake towards us. The rain was falling in such torrents that we could see neither land nor sky nor water. Black Fox muttered that Hobbomok must truly be angry. It was as if the stories of the people were coming to pass. As if some great lake-dwelling serpent had awakened and was about to arise scaly and dripping from the water, to devour us whole.
g
We lost all. Even the clothes were nearly torn from our bodies as we were tossed up on the shore. We
must have seemed dead, sprawled among the logs and leaves, covered in mud from the lake.
I woke to voices harsh to my hearing, speaking a language I had never heard before. I was jabbed in the ribs and the back with a stick or the butt of a lance, and then a foot turned me over. The sole was soft, moccasined. These were native people, whoever they were. I opened one eye and saw beading I had not seen before. These people wore leggings to the knees, quilled deerskin, red broadcloth traded from the Dutch, and long fringed breech cloths. One was kilted with a broad belt, richly decorated, with a wide woven sash loosely knotted at the shoulder. They carried a formidable array of weapons: war clubs, tomahawks and scalping knives. One carried a lance. He leaned on it as he looked down at us.
Their faces were painted, red, yellow, blue and white, but I did not know the designs. Their hair was dressed differently also, and two of them wore headdresses like caps with a swivel of three feathers.
They drew apart and their talk was low. The tone was one of curiosity rather than hostility. I had never seen any in life, but I knew who they were, and I knew their reputation. These were Iroquois warriors, possibly Mohawks, and as such feared above all others. Even the names used for them, Iroquois, Mingo, Mohawk, Maquas – adders, treacherous, cannibals, cowards – spoke of the terror that they inspired. But I knew we were safe. For the moment, at least. They would not kill us as we lay in this state, for to do so would be cowardly.
After a brief consultation, they came back. One of them seized Ephraim by the hair. Not to scalp him. To take a scalp in such a way would be like eating carrion. He was marking the colour. Two went to the lake with wooden buckets to collect water to dash upon us. I could not lie in dog’s sleep for ever. I shivered at the second drench and sat up.
They threw more water over Black Fox, dragged him to his feet and slapped him hard about the face, making his nose bleed. I called for them to stop in all the languages I could muster.
One of them came over to me.
‘Français?’
I shook my head. ‘English.’
‘Kiohensaka?’ His eyes widened in surprise. ‘Him?’ he asked in French, pointing towards where Black Fox lay struggling on the ground. One of the warriors hit him again while another bound his hands.
‘Pennacook. He is my son.’
‘This other?’
He pointed to where Ephraim lay, still half insensible.
‘My son also.’
He nodded, taking in this information, then stood in one fluid movement. He pointed at himself and his men.
‘Haudenosaunee. Iroquois. Kahniakehaka. Mohawk. You will come with us.’
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36
Alison
Hau-den-o-sau-nee. Alison spelt the words out to herself. People of the Long House. Kah-nia-keh-aka. People of the Flint.
‘May I help you?’
‘Oh!’ Alison looked round from the board she’d been studying. ‘Oh, I’d like to have this.’ She grabbed a dream catcher from a stand next to her elbow. ‘And I’m trying to find someone.’
‘Who would that be?’ the woman asked as she wrapped the item and rang the price up.
‘A girl. Her name is Agnes Herne.’
‘That’ll be ten dollars.’
Alison handed over the money. ‘Do you know Agnes?’
‘Maybe.’ The woman looked wary. ‘What do you want with her?’
‘She’s a student of mine,’ Alison improvised quickly. ‘She’s helping me with some research. She came to interview her aunt?’
‘That’d be Miriam. Store over yonder.’ The woman jerked her thumb at the window. ‘Ain’t there, though. Been shut all week.’
‘Where is she?’
‘No way of telling.’ The woman shook her head. ‘Miriam’s a law to herself. Sim’d know. He’s her son.’
‘Where can I find him?’
‘I can direct you to his house. But he likely isn’t there right now. He’s probably up at the casino.’
Alison thanked the woman and left. The casino was farther up the same road. The neon-pink sign was paled by the bright light of the morning, but you still couldn’t miss it. It was the tallest thing for miles around.
Sim came to the front desk to meet her. He did not seem that surprised to see her, but when she explained her mission, he had to tell her that he was just about to go to work.
‘I’ve got a car. Tell me where it is, I’ll go up there.’
Sim shook his head. ‘Better if I take you. You gotta take logging roads. You could get lost.’
‘I’ll wait, then. When do you get off?’
‘I could get a relief to come in. Say around noon?’
‘OK.’
‘What will you do till then?’
Alison gazed round. ‘I’ve never been in a casino before. It looks exciting.’
‘Hey, now ... ’ Sim’s forehead wrinkled. ‘You be careful. You could lose everything. I mean it! Just play the slots. No branching out to the bigger stuff ... ’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘OK. See you later.’
g
When they met again, Alison was beaming. She had a sack of change to cash in.
‘Pretty impressive place you’ve got here,’ she said as she counted her dollars.
‘It’s small compared with some operations, but we’re getting bigger and there’s plenty of room for expansion. Right now we’re looking at the possibilities of gambling on the Net.’
‘So it’s a good thing?’ Alison asked as they walked out to the parking lot.
‘Most people think so.’
‘Including your mom?’
Sim scowled, scratching the side of his face with his thumb.
‘Let’s say she has issues.’
‘She sounds quite a strong character.’
Sim grinned, ‘You could say that.’
‘Agnes certainly seems fond of her.’
‘Yeah, they’re very close.’
‘Agnes said you grew up together. That you were like a brother.’
Sim smiled in surprise. ‘She say that?’
‘Yeah, she said that.’
‘Her mom more or less dumped her here. It was a shame. She was hurting so much that she’d get in fights all the time at school, wouldn’t talk to no one. I had to look out for her, you know?’
‘What about her mother?’
‘Oh, Agnes don’t want a whole lot to do with her right now, but Mom says give her time. Mom says it was not really her fault, that Dina, Agnes’s mom, was not much more’n a kid herself when she had Agnes. She thinks when Agnes grows up some, she’ll come around.’
‘What do you think?’
‘I think maybe. Agnes has had a tough time, she’s kind of wary.’ He paused. ‘She likes you, though.’
‘Oh?’ Alison felt strangely pleased by that. ‘How do you know?’
‘Can just tell. You’re honoured. She don’t trust many people. ’Specially not from outside. You learn not to.’
‘What? Even now?’
‘Even now.’
Sim held her door as she got into the driver’s seat.
‘My pickup’s the black one over there. You follow close.’
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37
Looking Glass Lake
‘Boy, that Alison! Is she ever persistent! She’s been chasing Sim all over the reservation. Now he’s bringing her up here.’
‘How do you know? More shaman stuff?’
‘Not really,’ Aunt M cackled and held up the cell phone. ‘Was just looking at this thing while you were sleeping, and it started beeping. It was Sim. He’s bringing her up here.’
‘When will they be here?’
‘Soon. I could wish for better timing. I almost sent them right back again.’
‘How’s that?’ Agnes wanted to see Alison. She wanted to know what she’d found out, and was eager to tell her what had happened here.
‘Because it isn’t finished and I don’t want interruptions. We gotta follow it
all the way, as far as she will take us, and I don’t think we’re there yet, do you? I don’t want you here when they come.’
‘Why not?’
‘Break your concentration. They won’t be long now. I’ve a mind to send them right back again. You go out for a spell.’
Agnes left the cabin, as instructed. She had long ago given up trying to fathom Aunt M. Besides, for the moment she had taken on the role of shaman’s apprentice, assistant sorceress, and as such she had to do as she was told. She took the track that led above the cabin. From here she had a view of the road and could see people come and go. From the distance came the drone of one engine, then another, a car behind something bigger. It must be them. She quickened her step to get to a better vantage point. Maybe she’d go down anyway, just to say ‘hey’. They could pick up when Alison left again. Nothing was going to happen right now.
Her legs felt heavy and her back ached, as if she’d been walking for days. Suddenly she felt impossibly weary as though even one more step would be too much for her. She sank down, resting her back against a great forest tree, and closed her eyes.
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38
Mohawk castle
They had bound us with black spruce root and then tied us together with a halter made from twisted vine. They marched us onward, two before us and two behind. They kept a cruel running pace through the paths in the forest and it was hard to keep up with them. We were weakened by our near drowning and we had not eaten for a night and a day. Black Fox was as tireless as the Mohawk warriors, but Ephraim was worse than me. He was at the end of his strength. He was reeling, his steps weaving, his face pallid, sweating, the skin tinged blue all around the mouth. He might swoon at any minute. Such weakness would render him valueless, and his life would be forfeit. I sank down, my back against a tree, and swore that I could go no farther. Even though I knew I well might die for it, I had to call a halt.