-Half-running, half-stumbling, Catherine forced herself toward Patrick,reaching him at the base of the steps where he'd fallen. She wished she hadn't tasted the fruit punch, for now her head was swimming as shetried to help Patrick.

"Patrick, please! We must get away! Now!"

Overhead bursts of gray smoke exploded. The sounds and the smoke were not part of the ceremony, but of gunfire. The Indians were screamingin confusion as people were falling to the ground, shot by menapproaching from the river.

From the top of the mound Mona watched. She'd expected chaos, but notso soon, and not that which would kill her people. Still, her visionhad not been clear. She recognized the arrival of the Spanish soldierwho wished to capture Stone. She quickly rethought her plan, seeing anew way to reach her goal.

During the confusion, she would arrange the death of the White Womanand let the Spanish take the blame. Then all that stood between her and the Sun King would be gone. The old ways would be gone.

She, along with Simicco, would set new laws--together.

From the moment she brought the woman into camp, nothing had proceededas she'd planned. Simicco had delayed the Green Corn Ceremony,following precisely the plans of old ways, disregarding her counsel asif she were not a person of importance.

He couldn't know how long she'd waited for her vision to come true, howlong she'd dreamed of him, seen his face. Then one day Simicco hadcome to the village, tall, strong, defying argument as he told theNatchez people of his journey across the water to fulfill his destinyas the Sun King.

On that day Mona had known her destiny. That first night she'd come tohim, he hadn't turned her away. Instead, he'd listened to her plansfor their future. And he'd agreed, willingly, or so she'd thought. Andhe'd lain with her, not as a king, but a man.

Simicco was hers. She'd believed that the old way, that of nobilitytaking a commoner for a wife, was no more. But then Simicco had refused to put those ideas aside. His father, the enslaved Sun King,had carefully prepared his son, and Mona couldn't change his mindset.

When she'd been summoned by Jillico to treat the white man she'd founda way to control what was to come. She'd bring back the White Woman,but she'd let her die. That would be enough to make Simicco see theerror of his way. Mona had sworn that the return of the White Woman would never stop her from ascending to her rightful place as wife ofthe Sun King.

But Simicco had looked on this woman called Cat, and delayed, followingeach step of the old ceremonies. And in that delay, he'd becomecompletely smitten with the girl. But Mona took heart. The greatspirit had sent the captain. Instead of bringing a powerful army, he'dcome with only a few poorly equipped men, arriving in the midst of the ceremony, frightening the people. Now-With pride she watched asSimicco suddenly became the fierce warrior king, inciting the tribe toretaliate, drawing them back into battle with the intruders. Now was her chance. If the Spanish captain didn't kill Stone and the woman,she would.

Mona pulled a knife from beneath her tunic and started down thesteps.

At Catherine's urging, Patrick forced himself to stand, swallowing backa reaction to the waves of pain that radiated from his lower leg andankle. Blood from his wound was trickling down the leg that had beeninjured by his fall.

Catherine, unaware of the extent of his injury, tried to support him,but her head was still swimming from the effect of the drink. Behind them the captain was shouting orders. He and his soldiers had burst into the circle and were fighting hand to hand with the Natchez, who'dfinally come to their senses and begun to resist.

"Where is Stone?" the captain was demanding of a man only a few feet away.

As the man motioned toward Patrick, Patrick pushed Catherine behind himand forced himself to stand on the ankle that screamed with pain.

There was to be no more running. The time to face the Spaniard was now.

"Stone is here, Lopaz."

The captain followed the sound of Patrick's voice, waiting for thesmoke to clear.

"So, I've found you, Stone. And your woman, the missing bride. Nobody escapes from me withtheir life. "

"You're wrong, Captain Lopaz."

Lopaz took a step nearer, narrowing his eyes in shocked disbelief asthe truth began to dawn on him.

"Irishman? But you're" -- "Dead? No. Though I should have been,because of you."

"How?"

"Are you surprised, Lopaz? Taking Stone, the pirate, to the governorwould be a feather in your cap, but bringing in the Irishman mightcause questions. I can't refute your accusation of murder, for I haveno witnesses. But your superiors might listen to what I have to sayabout bribes, and about you stealing my ship and selling it."

Patrick glanced casually about. Lopaz was beginning to see that he'dmade a mistake. But he had no graceful way to back down.

Mona had started down the steps above them, knife drawn. But she'd stopped halfway. The only player not accounted for was the Sun King.

As far as Patrick could tell, death from one direction was as likely asthe other for him and Catherine. Captain Lopaz wasn't going to let himlive and Mona would destroy Catherine. He wouldn't have made a bet on their chances.

At that moment an explosion occurred behind the captain, engulfing himin smoke. From out of the darkness a figure materialized, dartedforward to reach Patrick, sliding his arm behind Patrick's back insupport.

"Come, hurry!"

"Jillico, old friend," Patrick said with a grin, and leaned against theboy.

"Do you turn away from your people?"

"You are my brother. Stone. I do not turn away from you."

"Aye. I believe we both must be doomed. We are like dolphins whodon't know not to swim with sharks."

"Stop!" Mona's voice cut through the darkness, halting their progress.

"Do not do this, Jillico! The girl must die."

"I will not let you harm them, Mona."

"I must." She stood tall, her face stamped with the truth of herconvictions, caught full force by the flames.

"The girl must not be allowed to deliver a child. It will mean the end of our people."

"No, my sister, you are seeing the end and you are the one who hascaused it. The last of the Natchez are being killed because of you."

"Jillico, can you not see? Our people were scattered like ashes on thewind. Because of me, they will come together once more and we will bestrong."

"No, Mona. The other tribes prosper, but for the Natchez, this is theend."

The smoke cleared then to reveal Captain Lopaz, his pistol still drawn.But behind him stood the Sun King.

"You have denied a sacred ceremony, Spanish dog," he said, "and forthat you must be punished."

He drew back his hand, letting his knife fly, catching Lopaz in theside just as the captain attempted to fire his pistol at Stone.

The ball from the Spanish gun hit Mona in the chest, just above herbreast. She had a startled look, as if she couldn't believe it hadhappened. "A new world is being forged and I cannot change what is tocome, Simicco," she said and walked slowly down the stairs. As she reached the grassy ceremonial ground she closed her eyes.

"And neither can you." She slumped into the Sun King's arms.

"Get Patrick to the river," Jillico said to Catherine, slidingPatrick's arm around Catherine's shoulders.

"I must see to my sister.

Go, I'll catch up. "

"Your sister? But" -Catherine began to object, but heard the shouts ofthe Spanish soldiers and knew they had no time. With Patrick sparingthe weight of his hurt leg by leaning on her they stumbled into theforest, skirting the cornfield until they had left the fightingbehind.

The flatboats, still loaded with munitions, were beached by thebayou.

Patrick settled himself into a pirogue with Catherine crouching beforehim. He poled the boat into the water and away from the fighting.

"What about Jillico?" she asked.

"He'll come. He knows this swamp better than any of us. Right now wehave to put as much distance between us and the Natchez as we can. I didn't see Simicco behind us, but I don't trust him."

"Let me look at your ankle, Patrick. How badly are you hurt?"

"Not now, Catherine, darling'. It's just a sprain. Sit there and let me take you away from here."

"Darling? I like that. I like the thought of going home, too." And she lay back in the dugout, resting her head against a barrel that wascovered by a damp, musty blanket.

Her mind still swam from the effects of the drink.

She hadn't understood all of what had happened back there, butapparently Patrick had. Had it been up to her, she might have tried tohelp Mona, but Patrick was more important. Patrick had always been thestar on which she'd focused her journey. Nothing had changed.

She could still hear the pounding of the drumbeat in her head. Now the rhythm blended with Patrick's slapping the pole into the water andlifting it out again. There was something soothing about the sound andmotion.

There was no moon, or if there was, its light couldn't penetrate thethick arbor of tree limbs overhead. The darkness was complete. Yet,as they moved through the silence, she began to pick out shapes. She could even see Patrick, the outline of his beautiful golden head andhis bare chest, still streaked with paint.

He was taking care of her, just as he'd said. And she'd taken care of him. She wanted to stop him, lean her body against his and feel thestrength of his arms around her. But there was a tenseness about him that warned her not to get too close.

She smiled. Like the porcupine they'd passed along the shore when theyfled into the swamp, Patrick was always warning her off, showing herthat she didn't belong with him. He'd bristle and hold her at arm's length. But that would change now. She'd known they were meant to betogether from the start, and nothing had happened since that first dayto change her mind. He was, quite simply, her heart, her life.

Catherine's eyelids began to droop and she knew that she was about tofall asleep. That wouldn't do. Patrick was in pain. They were stilltoo close to the Spanish and they didn't know where Simicco was. She had to remain alert, even if it meant talking to keep herself awake.

She couldn't think that it mattered. Either they'd been seen and wouldbe followed, or they hadn't been. And there was only one directionthat led back to Rainbow's End. She started to talk.

"Where are we going, Patrick?"

"Away from danger."

"I think we should go to New Orleans, to see Charles. As the American representative, he is bound to help us."

Charles? Catherine's betrothed was President Washington's agent?

Patrick was concentrating with every part of his mind and body onmoving the boat down the waterway. He knew that he might pass out atany minute. There were likely to be snakes in the trees overhead,fleeing natives in the swamp beyond. But Catherine's suggestion thatthey go to see the man who expected to marry her came at him with sucha jolt that the boat shimmied from his reaction.

"Go to New Orleans? To see the man you were to wed?"

"I could never have married Charles. I know that. I must have known it at the time. But you were supposed to be dead, and when I didn'thear from you I had to find a way to come here myself. I used Charles and for that I'm sorry."

Patrick grimaced. Already exhausted, he'd fallen into a pattern ofmovement that was automatic. He pushed the pain back into that hiddenplace inside him where all his hurts had been banished. But Catherine's suggestion had stunned him and he could find no rationalexplanation for the anger he felt at her mentioning Charles.

"And now you're suggesting that we go to the one place where I'll bearrested? Why?"

"To ask Charles for his help. Don't you see, Patrick, he's our onlyhope."

Maybe, Patrick wanted to say. But if he were in Charles's place he'dhave a hard time helping the man who had taken Catherine from him. In fact, he doubted that Charles would even stop to listen to Catherine'splea.

"What makes you think that Charles would intervene? I wouldn't take any man representing President Washington as a fool."

"My father was a brilliant man, Patrick. He represented President Washington. But there were those who thought him a fool."

"Not from what I heard. I was told that he was a very wise man."

"Wise, yes. Impractical and foolish? Yes, that, too. You know he was shot, not in one of the battles for independence, but returning from ameeting called to work out a peaceful settlement. And he did. He puthis duty over his personal needs. I believe Charles is that kind of man. He just doesn't know how to swim."

Patrick was past making sense out of Catherine's chatter. He realized that she was trying to keep herself awake and trying to take his mindoff his leg. She was accomplishing neither.

"I don't know, Catherine. Right now, all I want to do is get us backto Rainbow's End. Pharaoh and the others will be able to protect usfrom what's left of Lopaz's men."

"The others? The members of your pirate crew?"

"Yes, and the slaves who've joined us."

"Caring for the slaves I can understand, but why did you become apirate, Patrick?"

He poled the craft in silence for a moment before he finally answered.She deserved to learn the truth. "After I got out of prison I wasdetermined to find Lopaz and force him to clear my name. And I had people depending on me."

"But before? I'm thinking that you're no stranger to a life ofdanger."

"How did you know?" He seemed startled.

"Oh, I don't know. There's a hurt driving you. You try to cover it upwith foolishness and a devil-may-care attitude. But it's there. You said once that you only had a drunken father and two older brothers.

You didn't care much about them, or was it that they didn't care aboutyou? "

"Care about me? No, after my ma died, I was just in the way, anothermouth to be fed. One day I just left. I doubt they even looked forme."

"Tell me about her, your mother."

And as they made their way through the black night, Patrick poled theboat and forced himself to tell her about the mother who died and left him. About the woman who'd been abused and misused by a man who didn'tcare about her. About another man who'd seen her washing clothes inthe brook and used her, leaving her with his child.

"You? You were that child. Was that why your father hated you?"

"That's what he said. But he was an evil, cruel man. He hated mybrothers as well, and they were his own sons."

Catherine couldn't imagine a father not caring about his children. She couldn't imagine any child growing up without someone to love him.

To Catherine love was the most basic good motive for all mankind. It was goodness and nurturing. It was respect and caring. Love was that inner sense of strength that came to life like the seed in the ground.It flourished. Love was goodness and nurturing. Love was Patrick and the way they made each other feel.