"Perhaps Giselle Somerville taught him more about women than he was ready to learn," Elizabeth whispered to Lily as she nursed. The baby wrinkled her forehead in agreement, her small hand patting Elizabeth's breast as if to comfort her.

Three of Otter's fingers were badly frostbitten, and Hannah was set to rubbing them with a piece of flannel until they came howling back to life. But it was his feet that gave Falling-Day real pause. Liam was sent to fetch Curiosity, and after a long consultation, Runs-from-Bears sharpened a boning knife and they took off two small toes that were festering badly, and beyond their combined skills. Through all of this Otter made no sound at all, although there were beads of perspiration on his upper lip, and his hand shook when he pulled at Hannah's plaits in an attempt to get her to smile.

Elizabeth knew without being told how fortunate Otter was. A late blizzard had kept him trapped in a snow cave for three full days; he was lucky to have survived at all. That he needed food, and medical care, and sleep after hard days on the trail--these things she understood completely, and still she struggled with the urge to shake the story out of him.

Finally, Curiosity withdrew to the other room with all three babies, firm in her belief that the discussion that was about to take place should not include her. Liam too was ready to slip away, when Elizabeth took his arm and directed him to the group around the hearth. He hunkered down, his hands dangling over knees that threatened to poke through homespun breeches, his gaze on the floor. He would not understand very much of what was said, but still she wanted him there.

Elizabeth had heard Otter tell stories many times; he had a strong voice and a way with his audience. But this tale he began in fits and starts, speaking directly to his mother, focusing on her face alone. He spoke of following Richard Todd to Montréal in the late summer, of Hawkeye's arrival at the O'seronni New Year, their preparation to leave Montréal, and the first arrest by Somerville. He told it all without ever mentioning Giselle Somerville. But when all was said and done, none of the details mattered. The trouble at hand was more than enough: Hawkeye, Nathaniel, and Robbie sat in the garrison gaol in Montréal, and with them Angus Moncrieff.

By the time Otter finished, Elizabeth had broken out in a fine sweat.

"Somebody sent for Somerville," Bears said, finally. "Some traitor."

Otter raised one shoulder. "It looks that way."

Elizabeth pressed her hands together in her lap. "They were charged with helping you escape?"

Otter's gaze flickered away from her, as jumpy as the fire in the hearth. "And with spying."

"Spying!" Hannah jumped up. Many-Doves pulled her back down. Liam shifted uneasily, his gaze roving from face to face.

"In peacetime?" Elizabeth asked, her voice crackling dry and unfamiliar in her throat.

Runs-from-Bears said, "The English are at war with France."

"Then we are fortunate not to be French," proposed Many-Doves, frowning at her husband as if he personally were responsible for the wars Europeans waged upon one another.

Otter said, "It is because the Americans stay out of the war with France that the English are suspicious."

"We are not Americans, either," Hannah said defiantly.

Falling-Day said, "The O'seronni look at Wolf-Running-Fast and Hawkeye and they see what they want to see. They do not know how to look deeper than the color of their skin."

"Rab fought under Schuyler in the last war, and so did Nathaniel," Runs-from-Bears pointed out.

"Nathaniel fought with our Kahnyen'kehâka warriors," Falling-Day corrected him.

Elizabeth said, "In any case, the idea of Nathaniel as a spy for France is absurd, and I'm sure they are aware of that. It is only an excuse to hold them there."

Hannah's face crumpled. "They hang spies."

"No," Otter said quickly. "At least, not straight off. Iona says that Carleton himself is supposed to question them, but he won't be in Montréal before May. So there's enough time for Bears to get up there with the gold." He cast an uneasy glance in Liam's direction, but the boy was watching Hannah, and clearly had not understood.

Elizabeth held out an arm and Hannah came to her, her face a misery. "Squirrel," Elizabeth said, using her Kahnyen'kehâka name. "Do you hear? There is time." Pray God, she added to herself, her mind racing madly over the few facts she had, and a hundred questions that could not be answered.

Falling-Day turned to Bears. "You will start north tomorrow. Surely the gold will help."

"The gold will do no earthly good at all," said Elizabeth softly, smoothing Hannah's hair. "Bears has no way to know whom to approach. Is that not true?"

Reluctantly, Runs-from-Bears nodded.

Hannah pulled on Elizabeth's sleeve. "There must be a way."

"There is a way," said Elizabeth firmly. "But there is no time to waste. There is somebody in Albany who can help."

Bears raised a brow. "Phillip Schuyler won't be any use in Montréal. He and Somerville are old enemies."

"Perhaps General Schuyler could not sway Somerville," Elizabeth conceded. "But I doubt even Somerville would ignore the son and heir of the chief justice of the King's Bench."

At this switch to English, Liam sat up with a quizzical look. "By God," he said. "Who would that be?"

"Cousin Amanda's husband, Will Spencer, Viscount Durbeyfield," said Hannah. "You remember, Liam. They came to visit with Elizabeth's aunt in the summer. They haven't gone back to England yet."