"Here, lass," Robbie said when he returned, holding out a water gourd. She filled her mouth and spat. Did that again, and then finally drank in small sips.

"What hae ye been eatin'?" Robbie asked, shaking his head. "I should verra much like tae ken, so that I may stay far awa' from it."

She gave him a weak grin, and drank again.

"Lie ye doon," Robbie suggested.

Elizabeth straightened her shoulders, and glanced back toward the fire where the whole village stood, listening to a single voice. It was one she didn't recognize, but which was very familiar, all the same. Richard, and his brother, and their Kahnyen’keháka family around them. Now, standing outside of the light of the fire, it all seemed so very strange. She had come looking for a life different from the one she had in England, but this

Robbie hand was a gentle weight on her shoulder.

"’Tis a verra curious thing tae stan' betwixt worlds wi' a foot in both," he said.

"I don't belong there among them," she said. "I feel as though I'm intruding on a family matter."

"But it's his place, too, lass."

She didn't have to ask for his meaning. Nathaniel was here, because some part of him belonged here. "’Thy people shall be my people.’ " she said softly

"Ooch, it's guid tae hear ye quotin'," said Robbie easily. "I see that ye are feelin' mair yersel'."

Elizabeth laughed a little. "I'm feeling much better," she agreed, and realized that it was true; the nausea had ebbed away.

"Dinna ye think that a rest—" he began, but he drew up short. Curious, Elizabeth turned and found Splitting—Moon standing just a few paces off.

"My grandmother asks that you come to her," the young woman said.

"Weel, then, lass, ye had best be goin'. Made—of—Bones doesna look kindly on disobedience."

"I've noticed," Elizabeth muttered, starting off behind Splitting—Moon.

* * *

The Bear and Wolf long houses were identical in most details, a fact which set Elizabeth a little more at ease. Here, though, the clan mother's hearth was shared with a husband, the sachem, who was still at the Stick Beating Dance. The lingering scent of his tobacco made a contrast to the herbs that were so prominent at Made—of—Bones' hearth. She—Remembers seemed to be more involved in the making of the ornaments that so many wore, and the fine needlework that decorated the clothing. Bits of work in progress were piled everywhere, as were baskets of porcupine quills, shells, threads, and other things that Elizabeth could not identify. There was time to see all this, because she and Splitting—Moon arrived first.

While the younger woman fed the fire, bringing it up to a good blaze, Elizabeth examined a long row of feathered headdresses, picking up a half—finished one to look at it closely. The headpiece itself was an elongated cap of supple wooden splints interwoven and covered with the softest doeskin. This one did not yet have feathers, but it sat beside baskets full of them: eagle and turkey, which she recognized without too much trouble, some long ones which might have been feathers of the great blue cranes they saw so often on the waterways, crow and hawk.

Splitting—Moon made a sound of welcome and Elizabeth looked up to see the bear pelt at the door pushed aside.

She laid the headdress carefully down and stood, her hands folded in front of her. The three clan mothers came in first, followed by Richard, leaning heavily on his stick, and finally, thankfully, Nathaniel. He came to her immediately.

"Are you unwell?" he asked, hooking one of her fingers with one of his own.

She squeezed tight, and managed a small smile. "I am well enough," she said. "We can talk about that later." Elizabeth was vaguely aware of Splitting—Moon slipping through the doorway and away into the night.

She—Remembers was a woman of perhaps fifty years, straight of back and very tall for her sex. Her left eye seemed to be blind, for there was an opaque cast to it and the lid hung slack. This was her hearth, and she spoke first, welcoming them all. She looked down the length of the corridor as if there were some message to be read in the shadows, and then she turned to Elizabeth.

"Cat—Eater tells us that you first seemed ready to take him as your husband, but then left in the night with Wolf—Running—Fast. He says that you promised to bring the mountain we call Hidden Wolf to him when you married, and that he has been cheated of this land, which is rightfully his. He has made a suggestion to us, and asked us to consider it, but first we would hear your side of this matter."

Nathaniel had translated some of this for her, staring at Richard, who stood almost in the shadows. His face was haggard but his attention as clear and focused as a hungry bird of prey.

She cleared her throat.

"You will forgive me if I use French when Kahnyen’keháka fails me—" Elizabeth looked each of the women in the eye. Two—Suns seemed to be quite young to be clan mother to the Turtle long house but she had a serene air. She—Remembers had a more hesitant way about her, but there was nothing obviously hostile or unfriendly in her bearing or tone.

But Made—of—Bones. The old woman stood watching her with drawn brow. She rubbed the fringe on her sleeve between her thumb and forefinger and squinted at Elizabeth, her head cocked hard to one side.

Elizabeth said, "It is true that for some weeks I let Richard talk to me of marriage. But it is not true that I promised him anything, because I never intended to marry him. I told him so at least twice. But I followed my heart—and my conscience—and I took Nathaniel as my husband." She paused, and met Richard's eye. "I am well satisfied with him."