“I’d been to school. The Archers saw to that. Their farm was only an hour’s ride from town. There was a schoolhouse at the back of the church. I could read and write. I knew my numbers. The Archers had books. Will took me hunting, taught me to shoot. At that age, I didn’t need much else. It was Tewanias who gave me my first French words. He’d learnt the language from Huron captives taken during the war against the Frogs. I seemed to have the knack.”

“You never wanted to return to your own world?”

“My own world? The Archers were dead. I had nothing to go back to. In any case, where would I go? Not the farm. Too many bad memories. Besides, it would have been confiscated by then, or burnt down. No, I was safer with the clan.”

Lawrence smiled.

“What?” Hawkwood asked him.

“You keep saying ‘clan’. I’m half Scots, remember? I know all about clans. My mother was a Macintyre.”

“There you go, then. It’s not that different. The Scots have the Macintyres, McPhersons and the rest …” Hawkwood smiled “… and the Iroquois have the wolf, turtle, bear—”

“Hawk?” Lawrence said.

“There are hawk clans, among the Seneca, Onondaga and Cayuga. Not the Mohawk. They only have the three.”

“Despite the name?”

“Mine or theirs?”

Lawrence smiled.

“The name has nothing to do with the bird. Mohawk’s not even a Mohawk word. It’s what the whites call them. Kanien’kehá:ka is how they refer to themselves. It means ‘People of the Place of the Flint’. Supposedly, it refers to the tribe’s ancient sites along the Mohawk River. The place was a good source of the stuff. They used it to make arrowheads and tools.”

“So why Mohawk? Because of the river?”

“The river took its name from the tribe, and it’s only the whites that call it that. Mohawk’s a much older word. It’s from the Abenaki. They’re ancient enemies of the Kanien’kehá:ka. It’s what they called them.”

“Does it have a meaning?”

“It does,” Hawkwood said.

Intrigued by the change of tone, Lawrence frowned. “What is it?”

“Man-eater.”

Lawrence paled.

“Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure it was venison in the stew. And no, Douglas; I’ve not tasted human flesh. If they did consume their enemies, it was long before the Nations came together and the Rotinonshón:ni was formed.”

“They still scalp their enemies, though.”

“Yes, they do.”

There was an awkward pause.

“If you’re afraid of the answer, Major, don’t ask the question. Best let it lie.”

“You’re right. My apologies. Even if I thought I should ask, I’m not sure I really want to know. Was that when you learned to fight?”