Free Judith E French by Moonfeather

cousin Charles when his parents died of the plague, but it was never easy for him. Nothing we did or said could make up for the loss of his family.”
    Leah stiffened. “Among the Shawnee, there are no orphans. Each child is cherished, a gift from Wishemenetoo. I had Amookas and Alex.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Alex is a Scot. He was a soldier and my father’s friend. He chose to remain among us—to stay with his redskinned sons and his Shawnee wives, after he lost his leg in battle against the Iroquois.”
    “Wives?”
    “Here a man often has more than one wife. Alex is married to Amookas and to her sister, Tahmee.”
    “At the same time?”
    “Of course.”
    “Must be a cozy arrangement.”
    “Each wife has her own wigwam.”
    “And where does Alex live?”
    “Sometimes with one wife, sometimes another. Usually, he stays with Amookas. He likes her cooking best.”
    “This Alex must be an interesting gentleman.”
    “He is a great man, verra wise. It is Alex who taught me French and kept up my English.” She inclined her head slightly. “My Scot. He taught me sums and the history of war. I can tell ye the manner in which the great sachem, Alexander of Macedon, made war against the Persian tribes on the plains of—”
    Brandon threw up a hand. “Enough!” He grinned at her. “I had tutors enough to hear something of Alexander’s exploits. Are we to stand here until your Iroquois comes back with his entire nation, or shall we make tracks while we can?”
    “Aye, ye speak sense, Brandon mine.” She shouldered her pack once more and set off at a quick pace eastward. With a final glance behind them, he followed her.
     
    A village sentry caught sight of them and signaled the boys keeping crows out of the cornf ield. The youngest slid down the pole from his stand and ran toward the village, shouting the news that Moonfeather and her English captive had returned from the hunt bearing meat.
    By the time Leah and Brandon reached the edge of the town, half the village, including the children and the dogs, had come out to meet them. Leah called warm greetings to her friends and relatives, all the while scanning the crowd for one particular naked child. “Kitate?” she asked an old woman. “Have you seen my—” She broke off with a cry as a small brown body hurled himself between a brave’s legs.
    “Mama! Mama!” the boy cried.
    Laughing, Leah caught her son in her arms and spun him around. She hugged him tightly against her and showered him with kisses. “How’s my pumpkin?” she murmured. “Have you been good for Alex and Amookas?”
    “Did you shoot a bear?” Kitate demanded, clinging to his mother’s neck.
    “No, but we saw one, didn’t we, Brandon? The biggest bear you ever dreamed of.” She lifted Kitate high and nibbled his warm belly. “Big enough to eat you in one bite,” she teased. Kitate giggled, and she lowered him to the ground. He held tight to her hand and walked along with them as they continued toward the central clearing.
    Leah raised her voice, speaking formally in Algonquian. “Behold, my husband brings fresh meat for the village. Bring your bowls. You are welcome to whatever we have. Share with us the bounty of the forest.”
    Matiassu came from behind a wigwam and blocked their way. He glared at Brandon with hate-filled eyes and muttered something under his breath.
    “You must speak English if you want him to understand,” Leah said. “He doesn’t understand our tongue.”
    “And he’ll not live long enough to learn it,” Matiassu replied harshly.
    Brandon smiled innocuously. “Grant us the favor of the path, you trug-moldie sprag.”
    Matiassu’s dark eyes narrowed suspiciously, and his hand moved toward the knife at his waist. Leah’s head snapped up, and she stared at Brandon. He was still smiling.
    “Matiassu,” Leah said quietly. “Let us pass.”
    Someone in the crowd whispered loudly, and Leah heard her name linked with Matiassu’s. An old