Edan Trail
By Abs, Donna and Toni

They had now been traveling along the Oregon Trail for almost two months, and as the massive Rocky Mountains loomed in the far distance, the immigrants knew the
hardest part of their journey was soon to come. The wagon master, a stern but capable man name Josiah Jones, had told them all the night before that they
would be coming up to a good resting place along a river, where they could let their stock graze and build up some reserves before hitting the higher elevations. 

Anna Anderson and her twin sister Emma were walking by their wagon, sweat dripping off their faces despite the sunbonnets they were wearing. Their father, a Norwegian farmer, was driving the wagon, and their mother was resting in the back with her newborn baby. The younger Anderson children raced back and forth, playing with the friends they made during their journey.

In another wagon, another set of sisters engaged in an entirely different, but equally sweaty activity. The two girls, Philadelphia and Sidney Johnson, were trying vainly to keep their minds on their studies.  Most young women were not required to do so, but their father, Daniel Johnson, was the scholarly type, and insisted his daughters have book as well as practical learning. Daniel was trying to drive the wagon, though even after this period of time, he was still not very good at it, and beside him sat a young woman not of his family, hired to keep the girls at their books along the long trek. Or at least far enough for Hannah Peale to find a way north, to Montana, where her family was settled.  

In a buggy that seemed out of place because of it's fanciness, Dolores Mendoza sat in the back while her servant, a pretty black girl by the name of Imogene, walked beside the buggy. She had been attending a finishing school back east, and now was on her way back to her father's place in Northern California. 

Traveling alone in her own wagon was Marien Janssen, come to America from Amsterdam in the Netherlands. The 25 year old scientist had wanted to travel to the
country her father had spoken about often; his research had taken him all over the world, but he'd seemed fond of this particular one. That was good enough for his daughter! She had been so much like him from the start, sharing his love of science so
much it had exasperated her mother, who'd tried to teach her things that would help her get a good husband! 

She blinked back a mist of tears as she thought of her mother. Despite the fact that she had not shared father and daughter's love of science above all else, she had been loving and patient, and her death from cancer when Marien was 17 had left a hole in her heart she knew would never be filled. Her widowed father had loved her enough to give her the money for her voyage of discovery; she had promised him fervently that she would take copious notes on everything she saw and experienced, and when she returned home they'd go over them together, allowing him to share in her trip that way.

About noon, the wagons pulled up in a circle to prevent Indian attacks while the women started cooking fires for lunch. They always stopped near fresh water, and while some of the older women started on the meal, the younger girls ran to each other to socialize. The Johnson girls complained bitterly about the heat, with which the Andersons concurred, and it was decided, if Miss Peale did not mind, that they should all go off and have a quick swim. 

As they made their way to a sheltered section of the river, carrying bags of clothes to wash, they were joined by the Spaniard and her servant, and Marien, wanting to relax a bit with the younger girls. As they slipped into the relative privacy of a stand of willows, to their surprise, they found the river already occupied! Two young Indian maidens were cleaning themselves off in the coolness of the water while the tired horse that was pulling all their belongings on a travois rested in the shade. 

Needless to say, a cry immediately rang out, and Hannah, who had not intended to swim or wash, but just to keep an eye on the activity, ran to see what was wrong. Had someone gotten snake bit?

But no, two very nude, very brown girls were huddling in the water, suddenly shivering from fear. Or was that a sudden drop in temperature? 

The group of girls whirled around. There was snow on the ground! A thick forest had replaced the willows! Anna, always the practical girl, held out a towel to the shivering girls in the water, motioning for them to come out and dry off. The older one stepped out first, looking at the whites with suspicious eyes, but accepted the towel gladly. "I Nightwind," she said, using the English she had learned from the traders that had often visited their small camp. Until the white soldiers had destroyed it, leaving them alone to bury their dead, and to seek out refuge with other Arapahos. 

Hannah stepped forward to greet her. "We were on a wagon train, and wanted to have a bit of a rest," she said. "But it was warm! Now it is cold." She looked
around at the bewildered faces. "Philly, go check to see if the wagon train is still there." 

Philadelphia Johnson laughed. "Of course it is still . . . there." She had walked confidently toward a place from which she should have been able to see the
train, but when she got there, craning her neck, she saw nothing. 

The wagon train was indeed gone. The now very frightened group of girls huddled together, shivering with both cold and fear. Where were they? The Indian girls dressed quickly, taking out furs and blankets they had salvaged from the destruction of their camp to share with the other women. In the mean time, the elkhound that belonged to the Anderson girls was sniffing around, as if seeking a trail. She started to bark excitedly, and when the girls went to where the dog was, they found the track of a horse! 

Hannah was not the eldest, for she was barely over twenty, but she still felt responsible for at least two of them and led the way. "We might find shelter. 
There seems to be more snow coming!"

Indeed, as the day quickly ended - hadn't it just been noon? - the sky darkened and the wind howled. The other Arapaho girl stood still for a moment, and said, "I hear the wind, it is very bad!" to her friend, and Nightwind then urged the white girls along the road taken by the horse at a much quicker speed. They would need to find shelter, and soon! 

As they broke out of the forest, they came upon a wider trail, one with the tracks of even more horses, and even a wagon. "Look!" Emma cried out, pointing to what looked like a medieval castle or something off in the distance. 

Whoever was in front of them was unconsciously leading them to the only safe port in that part of Edan. The Monastery, and its warming fires, was waiting for them! The girls rushed forward, though the two native girls hung back somewhat, unsure of this strange place ahead of them. 

But a white man dressed in buckskins appeared at the gate, waving for them to come in, calling out in several different Indian languages, trying to find one that they would find familiar and thus helping to win their trust. 

Finally reassured slightly, and prodded from behind firmly by Hannah, they agreed to go within the Monastery’s walls. There they saw not only the trapper - who was familiar in his dress - but also men in cloaks, and others in strange clothing that frightened and yet welcomed them at the same time.

Young Moses Hochleitner looked over all the young women - most dressed in summer clothing, as he and his party had - and quickly ran to find warmer things for them to wear. As he ran, he pushed thoughts - sinful thoughts - out of his mind. And yet he was gleeful, trusting now that this trip into another world would hold nothing but joy. 

One of the white holy men approached the two Indian maidens with the trapper. "I am Connor MacLeod," the scruffy looking trader said, making the sign of friend
with his hand. This is Brother Cadfael. You will be safe here until I can take you to Singing River Camp." He was speaking in a dialect that wasn't theirs, but still understandable to them. 

"I am called Nightwind," the taller of the two girls said softly. "This one is Echo. Our people are no more. My husband is no more. And now we are in this strange place. Is this more of the white man's magic?" She unconsciously placed her hand over her belly, an act that caught Trapper Connor's attention. Was this young woman with child? 

Cadfael was nearly frantic with worry and said, as he had said the previous afternoon to the new men, "It will all be explained. Tell her that, Connor, while we get them somewhere warmer!" He looked at the white girls, who understood English, and who were shivering in the Foregate. "Come, daughters! In to the abbey, where a fire awaits! I must run and get herbs to make more tea!" 

They followed him eagerly, but when the Indian girls still hesitated, Trapper took them into the barn with him. There they watched him take care of their pony, which was just about on her last legs. He gave her food and water, and while treating the wounds that the little painted mare had suffered during the attack, he explained as much as he could about the new world they were on, and the members of the Indian camp he lived near. "One of our healers wanted some of the herbs that the good Brothers here grow, and I told her I would come and get them." His gentle manner seemed to soothe the girls, and after a while, they agreed to enter the building the others had disappeared into. 

Inside, while the aging but not unaware Cadfael fussed over his pretty charges like a mother hen, some of the laymen in the crowd made more manly advances to the
women. All were quite respectable. The strange captain seemed unmoved by them, except, of course, to see that they were made comfortable, but the others, Hugh Beringar included, picked out one or two girls to personally tend to. If Cadfael had had time, he might have chuckled over it.

The other monks also lent a hand; so much so that Brother Timon nudged Brother Duncan with a sharp, "You will need to do penance for that, my brother." But he
was smiling as he said it. 

"It will be worth it," the Highlander chuckled. 

When Dolores called out to her servant, telling her to let the others tend to her needs as well. This earned a sharp look from most of the men, who could see that
this rich Spanish girl was cut from a different cloth than the haughty Montoya. 

Of course, some of the men did not know Montoya, and judged her on her own merits. She was certainly handsome, and Book wondered how much it would take to
set her straight. And WHAT it might take!

The Indian girls stayed close to Trapper Connor, who was ruffling the fur of the Norwegian elkhound. "She is a nice dog," he said with an odd sounding chuckle.
"Does she have a name?" 

Emma giggled. "Silbur," she told him with a smile, blushing when the man smiled back at her. 

"Silver," Connor chuckled. "A nice name." 

“Nice dog,” said Moses shyly, taking a quick grab of fur before slipping away again. He was clearly uneasy around the girls, and was not prone to stay long around any one of them, but they had at least noted his accent in the two-word sentence, and knew he was Germanic.

Huge mugs of steaming soup were pressed into each of the girl's hands. "We are preparing rooms for you all," Prior Paul assured them. He looked at Connor, who just shrugged. 

"The barn is warm. Nightwind, Echo, if you would be more comfortable out there, I can fix us all a bed in the hay loft if you like." The Indian girls both looked relieved. 

The others, of course, welcomed the warm beds offered to them. The men gave up their individual rooms in the guesthouse and took up places in the dotior, where the brothers slept.

Room was found for all, and as snow began to fall outside, prayers of thanksgiving, not only in Latin, but in German, Dutch, Norwegian, English and Spanish rose to the sky. The man in black slipped away, going out to the barn himself for a moment, where his hawk waited patiently for him. He had not changed the night before into a wolf, and neither had the hawk changed into his ladylove. Was the curse broken, but she still lost to him? His heart ached, but as of yet, he could not add his own thanks to those of the others.