Raoul grinned, white teeth appearing suddenly under the black mustache. "You've gotten big in the last six years, but I'm a better shot than you are, and I'd slice you to bits with my knife. In a barehanded fight I'd bite your ears off and ram 'em down your throat. We don't need a fight to prove what anybody can plainly see."
"If you won't fight me you're a coward as well as a thief."
Raoul's eyes narrowed, and his shoulders hunched forward, as if he was about to attack.
"Dueling is also a grave sin," said Père Isaac. "And it is against the law of this state. I forbid you to fight."
Raoul laughed and lifted his empty hands. "Too bad, mongrel. The father won't let us fight."
Auguste turned to Père Isaac. "How can you take from me the only way I have of fighting for this land?"
"If God wants you to have it, He will see that you get it without doing wrong," said Père Isaac calmly.
The face of Black Hawk appeared in Auguste's mind, and suddenly he understood the wrath that had always seemed to smoulder just below the war chief's skin. This must be how Black Hawk felt when the pale eyes told him he could no longer come to Saukenuk. That was why Black Hawk had been leading his people back to Saukenuk year after year. He would not give up.
And neither would Auguste.
I must fight. I promised my father I would fight for this land. I smoked the calumet with him.