"You owe me justice, Pierre, you and Papa. Where was he when you abandoned me to the Indians? Where were you?"
Pierre's legs shook. He could feel the rage radiating from Raoul; it was like standing too close to a red-hot stove.
Auguste said, "Father."
Pierre turned and looked into the dark young eyes.
Auguste spoke in Sauk. "Father, I am the cause of this man's anger."
"There is much to explain, son," said Pierre. "Be patient and quiet, and all will be well."
Pierre saw fear struggling with resolution in his son's face. A pallor in the fine olive skin showed that Auguste had not yet gotten over being sick. Auguste squared his shoulders and took a step toward Raoul. He raised his right hand in greeting.
"I greet uncle," he said solemnly in English.
"Keep this mongrel away from me, Pierre," Raoul said.
"Frank," said Nicole, "take the children out of here."