The dog raised his head and growled, looking into the darkness.

“Peace,” Ned spoke half to the dog, half to the shadows of the rocks.

Then one of the shadows moved. Ned was up and reaching for his gun in a moment, as William and Edward struggled to their feet and stared around them.

“Nippe Sannup?” came a voice from the shadows.

“Aye, it’s me,” Ned answered in English, lowering the gun and calling Red to heel.

“What did he say? Who’s there?” William demanded, rising to his feet and reaching for his hand ax.

“Peace. He asked if it was me. I know him.”

“What did he call you?”

“Nippe Sannup. It means something like Waterman.”

The dark shadow of a tree moved and materialized into a man of about fifty years. A tall Pokanoket, wearing an apron of deer leather, and several strands of beads, some of them deep purple wampum, a sheaf of arrows slung over one shoulder, his bow in his hand. He stepped forward and greeted Ned with the dip of his dark head. His long hair was tied to one side, his face unsmiling. He scrutinized the other two men and then turned to Ned with a quiet question in Pokanoket. Ned answered, and, apparently satisfied, the man patted the dog on the head and sat down on a boulder.

“What does he want?” William asked. “Beads?”

Ned hid a smile. “Nothing. We have nothing that he wants. He’s come to guide you.”

“Ask him if he knows somewhere we won’t be found.”

“I’ll ask him. He’ll know. He knows his own lands round here, and he knows ours too.”

An exchange of halting questions and fluent answers left William and Edward waiting for a translation. Then Ned turned to them. “He says too many people know where you hid last time: West Rock Ridge, and it is better to go somewhere new. He knows some caves by the sea. No one but Po Metacom—the new Massasoit—and his councillors will know you’re there. It’s Pokanoket land and can’t be sold, so settlers never go there. He says the sea is rich in shellfish, and lobster and crab and fish, you will eat well. There are fruits in the forest, wild strawberries and vines. Also, there are many birds and you can take their eggs. He says take only two from every nest. One of the Pokanoket will visit often to see that you are well, and this man will bring you home at the end of the summer.”

“He’d do that for us?”

Ned nodded. “If he says he will, he will.”

William took Ned by the elbow and turned him away from the silent guide so he could mutter: “Po Metacom? The new Massasoit? So he’s the son of the old one who first welcomed settlers?”

“That’s the one.”

“But isn’t he the one who’s complaining about us buying land? Who’s complaining of us to others, the French? To Rhode Island?”

“Yes. That’s the one,” Ned repeated.

“But why?” Edward muttered to Ned. “If he’s a troublemaker, why would he help us? When he’s complaining about us? Complaining about Plymouth?”

Ned hesitated. “They have a tradition of helping people in need, it shows their power—so that’s one reason. In his mind, if he guides you to safety and brings you back again you will owe him a debt. They hope you’ll be grateful and remember them in future. They know you know the great men in Plymouth and Boston and they’ll expect you to speak for them to the Commission.” Ned paused. “Their way with us, with all the settlers—the French, the Dutch, all the newcomers—is to make alliances, and hope that we protect them from each other. Really, he’s offering you an alliance.”

“We can’t be beholden!” Edward objected.

“We are already,” Ned pointed out. “We wouldn’t have survived if his father hadn’t given us land and fed us when we were starving.”

William leaned towards Ned. “He won’t turn us in to King Charles’s men? That’s all that really matters?”

“No, this man works for the Massasoit Po Metacom, he’s a go-between for the Massasoit and the United Colonies. He’ll be hoping that you speak for them to the Commission. He’s not interested in the new king in England.”

“We can only bear witness that he is living at peace if we see it,” Edward bargained. “He’d have to prove to us that they are not arming or gathering.”

“You’ll only see what he lets you see,” Ned warned. “He’s not a fool. And I don’t think you can barter with him, if he’s offering you a safe haven?”

“And he won’t just…” Under the dark unsmiling gaze of the Pokanoket, Edward did not dare to name his real fear of murder.

“You’re safe enough,” Ned assured him. “If he gives you his word—that’s his bond.” Ned hesitated. “He’s a man I know and I’d trust him. Josiah Winslow himself employs him, and—to be honest—we’ve got no other choice. We can go on without him—but we can’t cross Pokanoket lands without a guide.”

There was a silence then the two older men nodded. “We’ve little choice,” Edward said.

“None,” Ned said simply. “We’re all strangers here, these are their lands, we’re here by their leave.”

William put out a hand which was not quite steady. “We are agreed?” he asked tentatively to the Indian.

“I’m very pleased to meet you,” he said in perfect English.

JUNE 1670, LONDON

Livia left the baby with Alys, so that she could take Carlotta as a chaperone on her visit to Avery House. She used the last of her money to hire a wherry to cross the river from Horsleydown Stairs and a hackney carriage to the imposing gates that faced onto the Strand. She wished very much that she had a footman to walk with her up the steps and to hammer the big bronze knocker on the door. But Sir James opened his own front door to her, which made her feel at home, until she had an adverse thought: “Do you not want your servants to see me?”

“No!” he said, genuinely surprised. “I thought you would like it better if I greeted you myself.”

He liked how her face, which had been a little pinched with anxiety, warmed under his attention.

“I do like it. That was kind of you,” she said. “I would have preferred my own carriage to bring me here.”

“Perhaps when you have sold your antiquities,” he said, and was rewarded by a sudden smile. “I’ll pay the hackney,” he said when he saw that the driver was waiting and that she had not pulled a purse from her pocket. He gave the man a few coins and came back up the steps to lead her into his house.

“You don’t have a carriage?” she asked.

“I don’t need one in London. And I am here very seldom.”

“Then I shall have to buy my own, when I have made my fortune. Now.” She took his arm. “My antiquities! Where do you think we should show them? They need to be in good light, and a big space.”

He hardly noticed that his help was now an accepted part of the plan as her maid took a seat in the hall and he guided Livia up the stairs.

“And where is your baby?” he asked.

“He is with Alys. She quite dotes on him. I would not be distracted by him while I am visiting you,” she said. She gave him a quick promising smile. “You shall have my full attention!”