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THE FRENCHMAN STAYED two days. When he did leave, he took the horses with him.
‘Twas obvious Red Bear had traded them, but for what Thomas knew not. Neither did the braves, for when they asked Red Bear refused to answer. The matter was not spoken of again, but Thomas was almost certain it had to do with Elizabeth.
The next day they crossed the Youghiogheny in canoes. Afterwards, the Indians hid them in nearby reeds and they all set off carrying loads. Thomas, as expected, was given the heaviest. He complained not though, for after three days of Elizabeth’s tender fingers, and with a way to now communicate with the lass however primitive, he was feeling better and wished to draw no attention to himself.
They made short work of Jockey Valley and readily enough wound around the base of Hager Hill. They skirted drier ground south of the Great Meadows and camped that night north of the burned and charred pickets of Fort Necessity. All the militia’s work the spring of ‘54 had been for naught. Colonel Washington had been unable to hold this part of the ground for the English, and General Braddock had been unable to take it back the following year. He had, in fact, lost his life trying to do so.
Thomas had lost more.
The next morning they crossed Chestnut Ridge, rounded the left side of Peddler’s Rock, and swung west. They passed Jumonville Glen and tottered along the narrow ridge between Honeycomb Rock and Mount Independence. Elizabeth blinked to him more than once that she was scared, and more than once he motioned back that she would be fine.
That night, they camped within sight of Christopher Gist’s burned out trading post and plantation.
Thomas shifted his legs. The tree trunk bit into his back. Ghosts shifted in and out among the moon riddled ruins. Wolves, in the hills, howled a death dirge. An owl made his presence known from high in the tree above Thomas’ head.
In between, the night filled with silence. The kind of silence that swelled a man’s head till he pressed his hands over his ears and wretched violently.
Tomorrow, they would pass through Gist’s Meadow and around the ruins. Two trails would open. One would jag west toward Redstone Old Fort and canter up the eastern side of the Monongahela River.
The other . . .
He reached for his beads. His mind wandered, but he managed somehow to get through five decades of his rosary and a long petition to the Almighty for strength.
He awoke to a soft, misty rain, the first in the two weeks since they had been captured. Just as they were leaving, the lass bounced a fist at him. He managed a weak reply.
Red Bear led them out of the valley. He took the eastern trail.
Thomas’ heart collapsed inward. Apparently, he was to go back to his past whether he wished it or not.
Now, near noon, the thick air of a coming rain, skyward of the deep foliage shadowing his head, clawed into his lungs. Up ahead, Elizabeth pointed her finger to the ground. She then looked over her shoulder at Thomas.
He had offered her little yesterday and nothing so far that day after repeated requests. He had encased himself in a cocoon to get through this part of the trail. He could not let her in any more than he could let himself out.
Red Bear whispered something to her. She turned back to the front. The trail bent left. The giant white oak that had been struck by lightning and left with a scar swirling its trunk stood to his right.
The glade lay before him.
I vowed never to return.
Yet, here he was and against his will.
He fought for every breath. He moved forward as if this part of the trail were no different than any other. Indians were known to dig up graves and play with the bones of white people.
He doubted Red Bear had such tendencies, but he might well not check those of his braves.
The rain quickened. Pearly drops stuck to Thomas’ hair, dripped from his beard, and drenched his lips.
How many times had he told Catharine to brave herself against the Indians if she were taken? Had she begged for her life and the life of their son? Had she been braver would he have been able to affect a rescue or an exchange? Would she be with him now?
Nae. Even if she had plucked up and found some bravery here, she would never have made it past the gauntlet.
Gràdhach Dia ann air nèamh!
Thomas’ feet numbed beneath him. He stumbled.
Young Corn jerked the rope. He fired off curse words in Shawanese.
Thomas had been so focused on finding a way to escape and living past this moment he had given no thought to what awaited them in the village.
He swerved his gaze to the front of the line. Elizabeth’s braid swung down her back. The green dress Thomas had bought her, now dirtied and worn through in patches, hung from her too thin frame.
I canna let her endure such.
And yet, how was he to stop it?
She turned. Her face tensed with concern yet again. She pointed at the ground.
Red Bear glanced over his shoulder at Thomas. His face softened.
He has known all along of our signals.
And yet, he had said nothing.
Red Bear made some comment and laughed. He gently capped Elizabeth’s head as he had done so often and twisted her to face the front.
That afternoon Thomas sat on the ground roped to a tree alongside Jacob’s Creek. Before him, Elizabeth cooled her feet in the water while she brushed her hair. Her hand was finally free of the bandage and the brace.
He finished the story of the doll and lifted his gaze to Red Bear sitting before him.
“Red Bear no need tricks to catch McQueen and Girl Warrior.”
Thomas had been afraid of that. Why had he not realized it sooner?
“And the raid on camp?” Thomas asked.
The brave nodded. “We made.”
Thomas’ gut sickened. “The young boy?”
“He aim rifle at Young Corn. Red Bear had no choice.”
He bothered not to ask about the scalp. He well knew ‘twas a spoil of war.
“And the older man? Why did you let him go?”
“What older man?”
So Watkins had hid, or he had at least run off and left Masterson alone.
He was no better than the savages.
And if Red Bear was not responsible for the doll, that left Hardwin. Although how he had done the deed Thomas knew not.
And just how mixed up was the boy with Elizabeth’s fear of the Fottrell House?
Ach! He was tired of ropes. Of trees. Of killing and war.
He was tired of marching every day to a death that would separate him from Elizabeth forever and thrust her into a world she might never free herself from.
“Is there any chance Iron Gun would listen to my side of events and consider a pardon of sorts?”
“This pardon?” Red Bear frowned. “It means Black Fox go home?”
“Aye. Or at least Elizabeth can.”
“No, for when Iron Gun see French maiden, will want.”
“Red Bear. I wish to ask a favor.”
The Indian laughed.
“Not for me. For Elizabeth.”
He quieted.
“I need you to feed me. To lighten my loads as we travel. I need you to let Elizabeth do what she needs to do to make me well. She will have to be near me. Speak with me. Be close to me.”
The man’s brows lifted.
“Not that close. She will give herself to naoone but her husband.”
“But Black Fox fills heart of Girl Warrior.”
“It is the way of the White Man’s God.”
“I not understand. Little Swan has said the same. She will not even dance with me and go into bushes as others.” Red Bear narrowed his eyes. “Iron Gun will kill Black Fox. What does it matter how well Black Fox is?”
“I cannot allow Elizabeth to run the gauntlet.”
Red Bear grunted.
“Let her heal me, and then promise ye will see I run it for her.”
The man shrugged. “What can Red Bear do?”
Thomas laughed. “Red Bear, you may wish to be war chief someday, but the real reason you wish to marry Little Swan is because you love her.” His smile flattened. “You gave up a white man’s world for her. You know how I feel.”
“Would Black Fox die for Girl Warrior? For few men survive gauntlet once, much less twice.”
“Would Red Bear die for Little Swan?”
The brave looked away.
Thomas lowered his voice. “If Red Bear is going to use his old ne-kah-noh, Black Fox, to get what he wants—”
“Red Bear not wish to hunt old friend like so, Thomas. Red Bear given no choice. Iron Gun insist Red Bear come for you in exchange for Little Swan.”
“And Elizabeth?”
“Red Bear take her rather than the many.” He looked away. “Mother of Black Fox kind to Red Bear as a child and when Red Bear came home. Heart of Red Bear sick at thought of bringing her to Iron Gun.”
“And you could see Elizabeth is spared the gauntlet.”
“Red Bear will do as Black Fox asks.” His hand came up. “Will even cut ropes.” He pointed at Thomas’ hands and feet. “But Black Fox must give word no escape between here and Iron Gun’s Village, even at salt lick tomorrow.”
Ach! The salt licks.
He had forgotten about them, and of course, they would stay a few days to hunt.
Now, to pass up an opportunity to escape if it came? And would he even have the strength? He would be lucky to feel strong enough to run the gauntlet twice.
If Iron Gun invited others for more runs?
It mattered not. What mattered was that Elizabeth was spared. “I give my word.”
They shook hands, then stood.
“Why Black Fox not listen to Red Bear last summer? Why Black Fox trust Blue Hoof?”
“I was filled with hate and revenge.”
“Because of your wife and child’s death?”
Thomas nodded. “But you have to believe me, Red Bear. I did not know Iron Gun’s wife and child were in that cabin.” He held his hands outward.
Red Bear slit the ropes. “And it is because of the White Man’s God that something else now fills Black Fox?”
“Yes.”
The brave cut the rope around Thomas’ neck and the one at his feet. His eyes filled with pain. “The heart of Red Bear rains tears of sorrow with the heart of Black Fox.”
“Why are you sad? You are bringing me to Iron Gun, and you will have Little Swan.”
He winced. “Little Swan say if Red Bear bring Black Fox back, her heart will be closed to Red Bear forever.”
Elizabeth pulled her feet from the water to the rock. She shivered.
Thomas had just promised he would not seek an escape. “Red Bear and Black Fox in a bad way with our women.”
“How is that?”
“Elizabeth may never forgive me when I tell her we willingly go to Iron Gun’s Village.”
––––––––
A SHADOW CREPT OVER Elizabeth. It crawled to her feet.
She turned.
Thomas? And where were his ropes?
He lowered to the rock beside her.
She looked over her shoulder. A bigger than average fire was being wrought in the clearing. Apparently, they were so deep into the backcountry the braves no longer worried about white soldiers or rescue parties.
That left only escaping. If they were to do so, she was certain it had to be soon.
Thomas’ leg brushed hers. Her stomach fluttered.
“How is the hand?” he asked.
She flexed the finger outward. New, pink tissue rambled across the palm. “Stiff. But I am working it loose.” She lowered it to her lap.
“Elizabeth.” He wove his fingers through hers and pulled her hand into his lap. “Would ye please tell me why ye so feared Hardwin and going back to your people?” He turned to her. “It may matter little now, but I really wish to know.”
She was now embroiled in his past. She well knew what he faced. Keeping secrets was of little use now.
“Meggie named Josué as the father of her child.”
“And ‘twas an English soldier?”
“Oui. Pierre was furious at Josué, and Meggie refused to tell the truth. He tried to pressure my brother to marry her. He would not. One night they fought. Pierre had Josué by the throat, so I grabbed a kettle and swung it at Pierre’s head.”
“Sounds like self-defense.”
“Oui.” She twisted her head. “But Hardwin threatened to call in the authorities.”
“And the marriage?”
“If I agreed, he would not only let it all quietly slip away, but he would provide food, clothing, medicines. He promised money for the garden and schoolbooks for the children.”
“Ach, Lass,” he groaned.
“So Josué and I left.”
“But you then befriended him again?”
She shrugged. “He said he had changed. I was desperate to get Philippe some help for his cough.”
“Why would you no speak of this before when I asked.”
Her face reddened. “At first I was afraid you would force me back. Later, I needed to stand on my own.” She turned to him. “You were so certain you were leaving. You were not to be around for a rescue.”
Thomas shoved his clenched fingers into the gap between his thighs. He stared at the water.
“How long are you to be without your ropes?” she asked.
“For the next little while.”
Something was terribly wrong.
She leaned into his shoulder and lowered her chin. “If you have no ropes and are now trusted, then we can leave this night?”
“We canna leave, Lass.”
Not leave? She twisted to face him. “But if we do not escape, we risk being forced to Iron Gun’s Village.”
“Aye. And we will go.”
The words ripped into her.
She jerked to her feet. The brush tumbled to the rock and teetered toward the edge. Thomas grabbed it and stood to his feet.
“You said we would not have to go, Thomas. You said we would be home even now.”
He held the brush out to her. “There were too many of them.”
She grabbed it. She shoved it into her apron.
“So I have agreed to nae leave if Red Bear will release me from the ropes, let me eat, and let us speak.”
“You chose this over leaving?”
“We would nae get far. These braves would be at our back. More would be at our front. And Red Bear is determined to bring me in so he can have Little Swan. He will nae lose her to another by failing to bring me as asked by her father.”
“Little Swan?”
“Aye. ‘Twas why she recognized me that day.”
“But I do not wish to be a chief’s wife.” Her mind was fracturing. She could nae stop it.
Thomas grabbed her head. “Remember what I said. We survive until we are ransomed or rescued.”
“I cannot survive this, Tomas.” She wrenched herself from his grasp and turned.
Laughter erupted from near the fire. The braves pointed at Thomas and her. They mimicked their fight.
Her face fired hot.
She forced her chin upward and doused the tears. Being funny was preferable to being scared and weak.
She turned back to Thomas.
He was too thin. His eyes were too sad.
And she felt betrayed yet again.
That night, he dared to scoot toward her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest.
She fought him not.
“I am sorry to my heart, Elizabeth,” he whispered in the dark.
She was not certain, but she thought his voice was wet with tears. She, for sure, had no tears left to give to her fears.
Three days later, with four horses the braves had found from somewhere now laden with fresh meat and all the items they carried, they crossed Sewickley Creek and turned northwest. The next two days they dropped into and scuttled out of deep ravines. They coiled around plunging precipices. A soundless, heavy heat darkened the forest. Elizabeth was certain she was plummeting deeper and deeper toward the gates of hell.
At night, she eased her back against Thomas. More than once she awoke to find her arm draped over his chest and her face nestled into his shoulder. She bothered not to understand why, for the truce they had etched was akin to fine glass, and it could all too easily break apart at any moment.
At her hand more readily than his.
This morning, they rose to foggy clouds sifting upward of the Monongahela River. They turned north along the river’s edge. Without warning, Elizabeth found herself on a narrow outcropping of land. At her left, the Monongahela River lapped at her feet. No more than five feet to her right a cliff of exposed soil rose to the heavens. ‘Twas as if a giant had taken a scalping knife and chopped down and away.
And then, a second narrows was before her. This one rounded a deep bend to the right. The wind battered and beat against her balance. More than once, Thomas grabbed her arm just as the bank broke off and plunged into the river.
“Dinna look down or up, Lass. Just look forward or along the trail.”
How the horses managed to stay on their feet she knew not. By the time they crossed Little Turtle Creek, Elizabeth’s body ached with the strain and she could barely stay aright.
And that’s when it happened.
She first saw one. Then she stepped over another.
Then they rose before her as deep as purged leaves on a windy day in autumn and as far as the eye could see. Bones heaped upon bones. Skulls tossed about here and there. The tattered sleeve of a brown jacket battered about in the wind.
And ahead and behind her, the horse’s hoofs struck the bones over and over and over . . . .
Darker shadows than earlier sped across the sun. Elizabeth stumbled. Thomas grabbed her arm.
Even so, she slipped to a place she had never before been, and from which she was not certain she could ever come back.