Chapter Eleven
Fists pounded his ribs and spine. Duncan struggled to pull away from the grasp of his captors but the blows kept coming, and he slowly sank, bending over in a futile effort to protect himself. Then one of the Virginians groaned and staggered backward. One assailant after another was jerked away and Duncan found himself lying in a ring formed by Tanaqua and his Iroquois companions. As the Virginians retreated, the youngest of the natives knelt and studied Duncan, then called for a candle and pulled down the shoulder of Duncan’s torn shirt. He held the flame close and murmured a syllable of wonder as he saw the tattoo.
The Iroquois, including the battered Hyanka, bent over him, staring in surprise at the sign of the dawnchaser. The young native motioned to his chest. “Ononyo
