Chapter Twenty
The clouds bellowed as the shadows slipped over the railing of the Penelope. Only one marine was on deck, staring in the direction of the conflagration at the mill, whose flames now silhouetted the ridge beyond the manor house. He froze at the sight of the Iroquois warriors who materialized at his side, dropping his g*n and not resisting as they gagged and bound him. Two of the marines below were playing cards as the third, their corporal, dozed in a hammock. One of the men sprang up, flinging his cards in Tanaqua’s face and paid for it with a tap of the Mohawk’s club that dropped him to the deck. The other soldier clamped his hands over his crown as if expecting to be scalped, and managed a strangled cry to his corporal, who tumbled out of his hammock and was pinned to the
