When Joachim and Reis are captured.

He found it difficult to sleep that night. Sometimes he heard moaning and
awoke startled, thinking it was Jeremie. But the boy slept dreamlessly, except for an
occasional cough. Perhaps the moaning was the wind in the bare branches, causing them to crack against each other and echo with a hollow sound. Could the moaning have been some animal wandering close to the camp, ravenous yet afraid to approach and steal the scraps?

He awoke in the grey mist of dawn, a dampness upon his face that was either sweat or rain. He awoke to muffled sounds, a pall of anguish, fear hanging like a low-lying cloud, and a knife in the hand of Pemisapan’s warrior cold against the skin of his neck.

How can Reis save himself? Will Joachim let him die at the hands of the Indian chief?