" "Munnonock," said Mercy's Indian. Eben did not know the word or any of the syllables in it. Mercy frowned, trying to work it out. She shook her head at Tannhahorens. He pointed at her. "Munnonock," he said again. His voice lingered on the 's and n's humming like a bee, and then, hand on his chest, he repeated his name, "Tannhahorens," and pointed at Mercy. "Munnonock." Mercy had been given an Indian name. Even shivered. Names had power. It occurred to him that the real name of this eleven-year-old had a terrible power: Mercy. The Indians might show mercy to her and she, in turn, might show mercy to them. Ruth said sharply, "Do not answer. You are English. Your name is Mercy Carter. Scorn him." "Ruth, that isn't fair," said Sarah. "Tannhahorens owns her. She has to do as he says. Mercy, ignore Ruth." Mercy had not even heard Ruth. She heard only the syllables meant to drag her, or tempt her, into another language and another life. " --