Warbird (12 page)

We are but forty Frenchmen in the middle of an infidel nation,” Father Rageuneau said after evening grace. “It is from God alone that we wait for reward.”

“I'm not planning to wait for that reward,” Etienne whispered to Nicholas in the kitchen.

“No one is going to get out of here,” Nicholas said. He gave Etienne a pleading look. “If we stay, we will surely die.” His eyes filled with tears. “If we leave, we break our vows and lose grace.”

Etienne straightened his shoulders and shivered. His mouth was too dry to speak. He had already seen what the Iroquois could do. His heart filled with dread, even though the sun shone and the birds sang. With a heavy heart, he went to the loft to think about his future.

Each morning, he hoped it would be the day his two voyageur friends returned. It was time for him to think about heading home. Twelve small circular moons
decorated the thin headboard of his bed. Etienne rinsed Pierre's red sash in the river, thinking how happy he would be to hear how it had helped save Tsiko.

At the apothecary, Etienne handed the leather apron to the doctor, who took it from him and examined the workmanship. “Where did you get this?”

Etienne shrugged. “I brought it from Sillery.”

“It was your father's,” the doctor surmised.

“It is for you,” was all Etienne said.

The doctor nodded in thanks and smiled as he tried it on.

The joy of giving the gift suddenly disappeared. Once Etienne left, there would be no more tramps in the forest for herbs. He would miss the comfortable silence of the priests at prayer, seeing the Huron women at work and watching the doctor as he made medicine.

Etienne raised himself on his elbows and listened to the heavy breathing of the men. He slid into his clothes and waited on the floor next to his bed.

Keeping his eyes on their sleeping forms, he pulled out the knitting from his bag and gave the wool a tug. Row by row, the little knots fell apart and the loops unravelled. He wound the coarse hairy wool into a crinkly ball. This he could give to Master Masson, the tailor. The wooden
needles could go to Soo-Taie.

He smiled at the screech of the owl. It would be Tsiko. He could imitate the calls of all the birds except the chicken. He crept down the stairs.

In the hen house, Tsiko held out a bundle. “Tonight you wear this.”

“It's for me?” Etienne asked as he unfolded a pair of soft, tanned deerskin breeches.

Tsiko nodded. He placed a necklace of shells in Etienne's hand. It was the one he had worn the first day they'd met.

The boys waited for the sentry to move away from his post. Without a sound, Tsiko manoeuvred the canoe through the weeds. Etienne could hardly contain his excitement. Tonight he would attend the Huron Council.

The encircling grove of giant pines reminded Etienne of the great cathedral his mother had talked of visiting as a girl. The smoke from the blaze in the centre hung amid the branches. Satouta stood in a patch of silver moonlight in front of the clearing. All pairs of dark eyes turned to them as they slid into place.

Watching Satouta's gestures and listening to the Huron words, Etienne understood what the council was hearing. Satouta mimed how Etienne had hunted beaver and built a fire to save his Huron brother. He told them how Etienne had called out to the Great Hawendio for help.

Satouta then explained to the warriors how Etienne's dreams had foretold the fires that destroyed his drum and the village. He told the men that Etienne had helped the children escape.

When his speech ended, the men in the circle grunted. Satouta approached Etienne. “Rise,” he said. Etienne received the feather of a red-tailed hawk tied to the feather of a great-horned owl. Clapping Etienne on the back, Satouta called out. “Here is Feather-At-My-Feet.”

The medicine man beat his rattle against the palm of his hand. Some men rose to their feet and formed a circle while others drummed. Tsiko seized Etienne's hand and pulled him into the circle. The drums changed their rhythm, and the line moved forward. As the thunder of the drums took over his body, Etienne shuffled his feet in time. With a swaying, rocking motion, the circle moved. The clouds seemed to shuffle to the rhythm as well, allowing the moon to break through. The ancient dance ended at sunrise with the laughing call of the loon.

Back at the hen-house, Etienne changed his clothes. He hid them, along with his feathers, in a nesting box just as the soldier on duty announced an arrival. Etienne scampered up the ladder to the rampart. The black dot on the horizon became a canoe, and the canoe had a painted eye.

Etienne ran to Médard and flung his arms about his waist, but after a quick pat on the shoulder, the voyageur moved him aside and made his way to the gathering crowd. He appeared much older and very tired.

A murmur went up among the waiting crowd when they heard the news. The Iroquois had taken Pierre Leroux, the clerk.

“The Governor-General will be at Trois Rivières to reaffirm the French-Huron alliance,” Father Bressani told them all at dinner. “A party of representatives from the mission must go to request protection. We need more soldiers and firearms. Monsieur des Groseilliers and anyone that wishes to trade will accompany us in one week's time.”

“Is it safe to travel?”

“We cannot let those devils stop us.”

“The soldiers must go as well.”

“What if the Iroquois attack Sainte-Marie while we are gone?”

Everyone talked at once. Etienne's mind raced. That
night he told Tsiko what he had heard.

“Huron Council tells us,” Tsiko said, “we will go to our Tobacco Brothers.”

Etienne's heart sank at the thought of Tsiko leaving. “If you leave,” he said, placing his hand on his friend's shoulder, “I will leave too.”

“We will journey together,” Tsiko said, “like brothers.”

Etienne plucked a large feather from the black-necked goose hanging in the kitchen. He trimmed it with his knife until the quill point was as fine and sharp as Soo-Taie's needle. When Tsiko entered the apothecary, Etienne was sitting at the doctor's table, copying words from one sheet of parchment to another.

Tsiko pretended not to be interested.

Etienne replaced the quill in the ink bottle and sat back in pride. “There,” he said. “Now I will be able to sing Father Brébeuf's song too.”

Tsiko's eyes narrowed as he approached. “You will not have time to learn his song,” he said. “Father Brebeuf needs many weeks to teach you the words.”

“I don't need anyone to teach me the words,” Etienne replied. He tapped the paper with his fingers. “I have the words here.”

Tsiko snatched up the paper and studied it.

“You've got it upside down,” Etienne said. He took the paper and fixed it to a peg on the wall. “Give me one of your arrows,” he said.

Tsiko, overcome with curiosity, removed an arrow from his quill and handed it over.

“You know the song best,” Etienne said. “You can tell me if it is right.” Using the stone tip, Etienne pointed to each word as he said it out loud.

Tsiko listened in amazement.

“Did I get it right?” asked Etienne.

Tsiko nodded. He stepped closer and peered at the lettering in front of him.

“The marks look like animal tracks,” he said. He pointed to the “s” at the end of the first word, “just like a snake.”

“Yes!” Etienne said with enthusiasm. “You're right! And since you know the words of the song so well, you can figure the rest of it out.”

Tsiko's eyes went small. “How do you know this?” he asked.

“My mother taught me,” Etienne said. “By the time I was five, I knew all the letters.”

Tsiko shot a nervous look over his shoulder. “Only Black Robes read,” he said.

“The doctor can read,” Etienne said, “and he's not a Black Robe.” He placed his hand on Tsiko's shoulder. “You can learn too.” He pulled Tsiko closer to the paper on the wall. “You say the words, while I point.”

After three repetitions, Etienne handed the arrow back to Tsiko, and both of them were smiling.

Etienne waited for Nicholas by the well. He removed his
fur vest and handed it to the carpenter's apprentice. “Try this on,” he said.

Nicholas reached for it eagerly.

“You can keep it,” Etienne said in a low voice.

Nicholas looked up in surprise. “But you will need it for this winter.”

“I will not be here for the winter,” Etienne whispered, putting his finger to his lip.

“Where will you go?” Nicholas asked.

“I will find a home,” Etienne said with a catch in his throat.

A look of fear crossed Nicholas's face. “What about your duty to God?”

“Let me worry about that,” Etienne said. He picked up his bucket and strolled away. He didn't dare share the details of his plans with Nicholas. He knew the boy would be duty-bound to tell the Jesuits everything he knew if questioned, and he needed to keep his departure a secret.

Tsiko and Etienne planned to travel to the first trading post before the group from Sainte-Marie. Tsiko would continue on his journey to the Tobacco People. Etienne would hide until Médard was ready to take him on to Trois Rivières.