“No ambassador that I’ve ever seen,” William persisted.

“He’s one of the many that have worked to keep the peace between the Pokanoket and the settlers,” Ned explained. “Fifty years we lived alongside each other—with complaints but no wars. Now, with more English coming, and the People feeling the pressure, it’s harder for the leaders to keep the peace. Po Metacom—him that we call King Philip—depends upon advisors that can speak both languages, that can live in both worlds. Governor Prence trusts him too.”

“You’d trust him?”

“He’s a Christian and understands us. He’s a Pokanoket and understands them. I’ll tell him to guide you safely and bring you back at the end of summer and I know you’ll be safe.”

Ned turned to Wussausmon, and spoke quietly. “They can’t go too fast,” he said.

“They were soldiers, and yet so slow?” the man asked incredulously.

“Not like your braves,” Ned shook his head. “They were great men in the English army against the English king. They rode horses into battle. They didn’t run on a warpath like you. And now they’re old. So take them slowly and bring them back to Hadley at the end of summer?”

The man nodded in silence.

“Did Quiet Squirrel send you to follow us from Hadley?” Ned asked curiously. “Did you come behind us all the way?”

Wussausmon grinned. “It wasn’t hard. You went through the trees as quietly as a team of oxen plowing a field.”

“Quiet Squirrel says it’s my shoes,” Ned admitted.

“She told me it was the stupid hat.”

Ned laughed out loud. “She has no respect for me,” he said.

Wussausmon laughed too. “We’re just men. She has no high regard for any of us.”

“Did she tell you that Hadley is mustering?”

“We knew that already.”

“Have you told Po Metacom?”

Wussausmon bowed his head and said nothing. Ned felt reproved for rudeness.

“It’s just that the Coatmen are anxious,” Ned explained. “We know that your king is sending out messages. We hear he’s even talking to the French, as far north as Canada—and they’re our sworn enemies. It would be as if we talked to your enemies—the Mohawks. You’d feel betrayed.”

“But you do talk to the Mohawks,” Wussausmon pointed out.

Ned ignored the truth. “It makes the English anxious.”

“You should be anxious, if you make laws, put them on us, and then break them,” Wussausmon said.

Ned sighed and gave up on the interrogation. “I’ll tell Minister Russell that you’ve been a good friend to us today. Are you coming back to Hadley this season?”

“I am going upriver.”

There were no English settlements north of Hadley; if Wussausmon was going further north it could only be to meet with other tribes, and to invite them to join in a land freeze against the settlers—or worse.

Ned could not hide his unease. “If the Massasoit is unhappy with the governor and the Council at Plymouth, or the governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony Council at Boston, he should speak to them. Better to deal with them direct. We don’t like to see you talking among yourselves—joining together.”

“For sure you don’t!” Wussausmon smiled. “And I often speak with the English governors. The Massasoit is trying to get everyone to agree to stop selling land. He wants us to work as one power. Like you do.”

“But he can’t order them?”

“No,” Wussausmon said. “He can’t. He would not. That is why I go north and west for him, to get agreement with the tribes on your borders. Our leaders have to agree with their people, they are not tyrants like your king.”

“Well, I’d say he’s a better man for that.” Ned was conscious of his divided loyalties. “But you don’t ever want to quarrel with us.”

“I have no quarrel with anyone,” Wussausmon said quietly. “I live under your laws in your town; but when I am in the forest I live under our laws. I have to serve Po Metacom as he asks, I am his man.”

“But converted,” Ned suggested. “You are sworn to God. You’re attending him at our request: as his tutor, as our ambassador. You were raised in an English home. You’re our man too.”

He nodded. “I am of two worlds,” he said.

“That’s can’t be easy,” Ned said, thinking of the divided loyalties of his home, of his sense of not belonging here, in the world that he thought would be his own.

“It is not.”

JUNE 1670, LONDON

Alinor was well enough to dine with Alys and Livia in the parlor and was curious where Livia had been all day.

“I am making progress,” Livia said happily. “I have seen the gallery and his garden where we can show the antiquities. They are suitable. So, you can send a ship for my things from Venice.”

“But who will load them?” Alinor asked.

Livia spoke to Alys. “My first husband’s steward still runs his workshop in Venice, as he did when my husband was alive. He still stores our goods, for loyalty. I have no money to pay him since my dear Roberto died. But he will do whatever I ask. I will write to him and tell him to pack the pieces that are stored.”

“You must trust him,” Alinor remarked.

“Oh yes! He was very good to me when my husband died and the family tried to take everything.”

“He helped you to hide the treasures?” Alinor suggested.

“He knew they were mine. It was his workshop where they cleaned and repaired the treasures. He knows I will repay him, when the pieces are sold.”

“He was your husband’s steward; but he served you?” Alinor inquired. “And took your side against his master’s family?”

Livia showed a tremulous smile. “I think he was sorry for me when they tried to steal from me.”

“And Rob did not object to this partnership? This trusting partnership?”

Livia turned a laughing glance at her mother-in-law. “Ah! I see what you are saying. I must tell you that Maestro Russo is an old man, with a granddaughter of my age, and a wife who is a little old lady. His hair is white, he is stooped over a stick. He has been father and grandfather to me. He loved Roberto and thought of him as a grandson. And Roberto knew that he would do anything for us.”

“You’re very blessed in your friends,” was all Alinor replied.

“How long will he need to pack and load?” Alys asked. “We could find a ship sailing for Venice and write to him. But then how long will he need to get the pieces ready?”

“He knows that I came here to sell my goods, he knows that I have no money until I sell my treasures,” Livia replied. “It will take him no more than a few days to pack and get the permissions for them to leave the country.”

“If he can pack them so quickly, I can commission a captain here to take your instructions and bring back goods.”

Livia clapped her hands. “How clever you are! This is what it is to be a woman of business.”

Alinor smiled and looked from one young woman to the other. “You can find the money?” she asked Alys.