Later That Day…
Haytham sat calmly and quietly on the stone barricades of Southgate Fort. He folded his legs up to his chin and wrapped his arms around them. Haytham never really had any time for this type of rest, thus he relished the times that he did get to relax and made the most of them. Then there she was. It was the mysterious woman again! She had returned! Haytham figured that after she had booked it once he cut her binds, she wouldn't have returned. He thought wrong. The lady was here and helped escort her fellow Mohawk people out of the fort.
Then it happened again. They locked eyes. Again. This time, Haytham felt something warm crawl up his cheeks. What was this goddamn feeling, Haytham cursed in his mind. Instead of giving him a blank gaze like she did before, a soft smirk was on her face. Haytham gave her a warm smile in return, his eyes calming. The Mohawk woman looked down, then continued to lead her people out.
Charles broke the calming silence, "What happens now?"
He answered, "We wait. Though not for very long, I suspect…"
Kaniehtí:io; 15 July 1754, Kanatahséton Valley
Yesterday had been a very interesting day for Kaniehtí:io. Well… "interesting" would be an understatement. Daunting, riveting, exciting, nerve-wracking, fun, and maybe even… awkward? For one, she had never expected to have the British convoy attacked and controlled by a group of men lead by one fascinating Englishman. The long flowing navy blue overcoat, laced with golden embroidery, the blood-red undercoat, the crisp white cravats, and the funny-looking tricorn. He looked like he came straight from London! Well, maybe he did, Kaniehtí:io wondered for a moment.
She rethought her actions from yesterday, though. Maybe she was being a bit too harsh. No, she shook her head. Those people were NEVER supposed to be trusted. He was an Englishman for crying out loud! Those folks of the King's Crown were only brewing up trouble with the French, waging war just because of pointless reasons. They had no right to interfere with another country's business! Gosh, how she hated political feuds, though she knew that they could lead to bigger problems. No matter how captivating this Brit was, he should be avoided AT ALL COSTS, Kaniehtí:io told herself.
"What seems to be bothering you, child?" a soft voice from behind her spoke.
Kaniehtí:io turned her head around, and there stood her mother. She gave a small shake of her head and a smile. Kaniehtí:io was currently in the family longhouse cleaning her wounds and bruises after the other day's "skirmish."
"After all these years, yet you still refer to me as 'child.'" she said with a scoff, "Nothing is bothering me, Ista."
Oiá:ner didn't look nor seem convinced, "I call you 'child' because you are still one in my eyes, though you have matured much over time, my dear. And you know that I can see through you. Especially after those ruffian English took you and some of the other tribespeople captive. So tell me again, what's on your mind?"
Kaniehtí:io wasn't surprised. She knew that her mother always saw through her, no matter what. She decided to just spill it.
"Ista, remember how I told you that someone had freed me yesterday?" Kaniehtí:io asked.
The Clan Mother nodded.
"Well… the perso- the MAN that saved me… was an Englishman," she continued, cringing a little as she awaited her mother's reaction.
For once she was surprised. Oiá:ner's face held a blank expression. Kaniehtí:io had at least expected to see the old woman have furrowed brows and a straight pair of lips. Instead, she was met with a deadpan look.
Oiá:ner sighed, "I see. I guess there are SOME exceptions to the average English folk, nevertheless a MAN. Whatever you do, stay away from him, Kaniehtí:io."
"Yes, yes, Ista, I know. I've been telling myself that for the past hour."
Kaniehtí:io's mother gave her a quick nod and then left the longhouse. The children of Kanatahséton Valley could be heard giggling and running about outside. The birds were chirping, and Mother Nature herself was quite lively today. Maybe she could go out for a hunt, Kaniehtí:io reasoned, besides, the children complain of the hunger in their bellies and she did miss the delicious taste of venison and rabbit stew. She knew that hunting and freerunning on the forest's trees would assist in easing her mind about the man from the day before. What was it about those grey eyes, confident voice, and tall stature captivated her so much? He was most likely like any other Brit. Selfish, greedy, and loyal to the Crown. Kaniehtí:io finished tending to her wounds then grabbed her knife, bow, arrows, and quiver. After adjusting her gear, she exited the longhouse.
Haytham Kenway; 15 November 1754, Green Dragon Tavern
"Hello Charles. Any luck finding our mystery woman?"
After the rescue mission on the Mohawk captives, Haytham and his men had been waiting for months for any contact from the tribe. So far there had been none.
Charles answered the Grandmaster without hesitation, "Word is she's been stirring up trouble just outside the city in a town called Lexington."
Though Lee was one of, if not the most helpful man in the band of Templars, Haytham hadn't expected him to provide this information.
He responded with enthusiasm, "Well then, that's where we'll begin our search! I'll meet you there."
Both men had arrived at the frontier.
"Have you found her?" Haytham asked his right-hand man.
"She's made camp not too far from here."
"Excellent. Well the sooner we're done, the sooner we can get out of this cold."
Charles looked at the horses, "We'll move faster on horseback."
As the men rode to the camp, Haytham noticed some blood marks in the snow and hares scurrying up the hill. He assumed that some animal must have been killed or hunted.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news, sir," Charles said.
Haytham responded with an, "Oh?"
"Braddock is insisting that I return to service under him. I've tried to beg off, to no avail."
Edward the goddamn dog, Haytham hissed in his mind. That man literally shows no sympathy, empathy, nor remorse to those around him.
Haytham answered, "No doubt he's still angry about losing Pitcairn- to say nothing of the shaming we gave him. Do as he asks. In the meantime, I'll work on having you released."
Charles gave a nod of understanding, yet spoke as if he were guilty of something, "I am sorry for the trouble."
"Not your fault."
Both men arrived at the camp, only to find that it was ruined and put out.
"We're too late," Lee said.
Haytham took a closer look, "The fire's only just been snuffed. The snow recently disturbed. She's close."
Just as he finished his observation, Haytham turned around as he heard a howl from a nearby pack of wolves. Both men's horses fled in fear of the immediate predators.
"Bollocks!" Charles cursed.
Haytham began to follow the fresh tracks leading up the snowy hill. He kept near the snow, in case any wolves lurked about. Speak of the devil. A lone wolf scampered up the mound, though, it paid no attention to Haytham.
Haytham spoke up, "These tracks are fresh, they must be her's. Seems she took to higher ground. Out of the snow and into the trees."
And right as Haytham finished his sentence, there she stood, well… crouched, currently making another camp.
Haytham held up his hand, stopping Lee, "Wait here."
He slowly approached the mystery woman, staying low as not to alert her nor the nearby wolves. As he made his way to her, he looked to his right and saw three wolves closing in on her.
BAM!
One of the wolves let out a loud whine and whimper. She quickly faced both men with a look of surprise on her face. With grace, she fled. Haytham was also stunned and looked at Lee, who was poised with a flintlock in his right hand that had smoke leaking from the barrel.
Haytham yelled to the woman, "Ah dammit! Wait! Come back!"
He suggested to Charles, "Best you return to Braddock, Charles, before he grows suspicious. I can handle things from here."
The other man tried to say otherwise, "But, sir-"
"But nothing, go!"
Charles unwillingly left as Haytham continued his hot pursuit of the enigmatic lady. Already he was panting like a dog, and he wasn't even that old yet! He figured that it was the snow dragging his feet down that made the chase even worse than it should have been.
He attempted to call out to her, "Stop running! I only wish to talk! I am not your enemy!" Every callout made it harder for Haytham to sprint.
"Please just hear me out! Gods, woman! Only let me speak! Enough with these games." Where the hell was she?!
"It is imperative that we speak! A moment of your time is all I ask of! You try my patience, woman!"
Finally. Haytham knew for a fact now that she was near. Another one of her camps had just been snuffed and the smoke was floating in the air. Haytham leaned against a tree to rest. He heard one soft growl at first. Then two. Then three. Then four. He looked around him and saw… that he was surrounded by wolves. The sly bastards had managed to track him down whilst he was chasing after the woman. He readied his blades, as he knew how these vicious beasts attacked. One wolf jumped at his left, only to be parried and then quickly stabbed in the neck. While Haytham was dealing with the first wolf, another jumped at his side while he was pulling his hidden blade out of its body.
"Agh!" the man grunted. The wolf was snarling with spit dripping from its mouth as it tried to gnash at him. It had pinned him on the ground. Haytham used his forearms and hands to keep the predator away from him. He then kicked the animal off of him and shot it with his flintlock. He quickly placed the gun in its holster and then blocked the next wolf's attack, killing it with his hidden blade. The last wolf made its final jump at Haytham, only to have him duck out of the way and slice its stomach. Whimpering, the feral creature ran the opposite direction.
The rush of adrenaline had kept him alive. In London, there were no wolves, except in the wilderness which he never ventured forth because of Reginald's words and scolding. The attack had reminded him when he and his men had freed the Mohawk. Both moments gave Haytham a sense of peril, that when he was noticed he would either be dead or hurt. Clearing such feelings from his mind, Haytham continued his quest of finding the mystery woman.
After a couple minutes of sprinting in the snow, Haytham looked up to the trees, only to find the infamous lady herself jumping with practiced agility and light-footed speed.
"STOP!" Haytham called out.
Once he tracked her down, she finally jumped down from the trees. He felt like he was going to pass out on the spot.
"Are you touched in the head?!" she exclaimed out loud.
Wow. Haytham had only heard her yell once, but he never knew how scary she sounded when she actually directed her anger at him. This lady did indeed do a fabulous job at constantly surprising and perplexing him…
Haytham held up his hands in defeat, "Me. Haytham. I come in peace."
She imitated his moves and spoke in chopped up English, "Why. Are. You. Speaking. So. Slow?"
Again, Haytham felt that same warm feeling crawling up his cheeks. He dropped his arms in embarrassment, "Oh, sorry."
"What do you want?" the woman asked defensively.
Haytham answered her, "Well, your name for one."
"I am Kaniehtí:io."
He smiled, a little too friendly, "Pleased to meet you, Godz-zio?..." He completely butchered her name...
The woman rolled her eyes and sighed, "Just call me Ziio."
"Diio?"
"Ziio."
"Ziio."
The awkward tension returned once again, just like the moment they locked eyes on the convoy.
She broke the silence with a demanding tone, "Now tell me why it is you're here."
Haytham pulled the aqua amulet from his coat, showing it to her. Ziio furrowed her brows and snatched the gem from his hand.
"Where did you get this?" she questioned.
"From an old friend," Haytham said.
She walked as she spoke, "I've only seen such markings in one other place."
"Where?" he pried.
Now he noticed that she was at a loss for words.
"It is forbidden for me to speak of it."
Haytham was a bit angered at this statement, "I saved your people, does this mean nothing to you?" Ziio looked up at Haytham, and he once again held up his hands.
He sighed, "Look, I am not the enemy."
Ziio looked at the amulet one more time.
"Close to here is a hill. Meet me there, and we'll see if you speak the truth." She said it in an almost mocking- no, condescending tone. She turned away from Haytham, then jogged to the hill. This is going to be a long day, he thought.
