Promised to the Crown (35 page)

After a few agonizing minutes of standing idle, a few men, mostly older, entered the longhouse. The man at the front was tall and imposing with a face that bore more lines of experience and labor than Claudine had ever seen in her life. He was only a fraction as intimidating as the man to his right. Years younger, several inches taller, and clearly furious, he was not a man Claudine would ever dare to speak to, let alone provoke.

Claudine clutched her skirt to hide the trembling of her hands. Her breath stopped short in her chest, the lack of air causing the fire to take on an eerie halo.
We're all going to die here.

Manon stood and approached the men, no fear discernable in her face. The oldest man spoke a few words in his language, and Manon nodded. The conversation continued a few moments longer, until a young boy, perhaps seven years old, ran to where she stood and flung his arms around Manon's waist. She spoke several words in return. Though Claudine could parse none of the words, she recognized authority and confidence when she heard it. Were it not for the crackling fear in the air, Claudine was certain she'd feel a prickling of envy at Manon's bravado.

The men exited the longhouse, the younger man lingering a few moments. He said a few words to Manon, kind ones, if Claudine interpreted correctly. She returned a terse, quiet reply and turned her back to him. The fierce-looking man's face seemed to soften for a brief moment, but almost as quickly, he resumed his mask of hostility and followed in the footsteps of the tribe's elders.

Manon knelt before the boy, who now wept openly in her arms. Her brother, Claudine presumed. He buried his face in Manon's shoulder and sobbed for his mother. Claudine swallowed back some tears, not entirely sure why they were there. This was not her grief.

“Darling, what can we do?” Nicole said at length.

“Help me gather our things and take me into town so I can find work, please.” Manon's confidence was gone, her words a mere whisper.

“Why?” Claudine blurted out.

“That man was the Chief of this clan. He has ordered me to leave. He believes the fever to be my fault.”

“How positively idiotic . . .” Claudine rolled her eyes in the direction of the door.

“Be that as it may, he is the Chief and I am no longer welcome here. I was only allowed to stay under his sister's protection as it was, and now that she is gone, I must leave.”

“His own sister is dead and his first act is to banish the child she chose to raise as her own?” Nicole's jaw set, her teeth visibly clenched. This look never boded well for the person who caused it. This time, Claudine feared her sister's wrath might bring down the fury of the entire Iroquois nation on the five of them.
Calm yourself, sister.

“So it would seem. Would you help me?” Manon's look was at once proud and pleading. What options did she have but to ask for help? A life foraging in the woods would be no life at all.

“Manon, you needn't even ask. You will stay with us as long as you wish. We'll leave at once.”

“Tawendeh must come as well. I promised Mother Onatah . . .”

“My dearest girl, I could not ask you to abandon your brother. I daresay there is always room for one more in the Lefebvre nursery.”

“Thank you,” Manon whispered.

“Let's be on our way,” Nicole urged.

Claudine nodded, her agreement as fervent as it had ever been. She, Emmanuelle, and Gabrielle gathered up Manon's and Tawendeh's sparse belongings. In all her life, Claudine was never so thrilled to find herself in the back of a rattling wagon on a bumpy road. She hoped for Nicole's sake her brother-in-law would be as happy with the new additions to his family.