Chapter 6 – Where the Wild Wind Blows
Ratonhnhake:ton rose to his feet. The effects of the Coyote Man's poison were still there, but he fought his way through the spinning numbness. The fool Connor had been weak, willing to give in. But he would offer no compromise, no mercy. With a pop, two knives pivoted from their bracers into his hands. He staggered to the Coyote Man and his two redcoat companions. They didn't notice him. Of course they didn't. He was invisible to their presence until it would be too late. He was the wolf hunting the elk waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
The Coyote Man was talking to the captive boy. Matthew was his name. Connor had sired him, but Ratonhnhake:ton knew that only he was qualified to rescue the boy.
"Just let me give you one more pretty little scratch, all the painted whores in town will go crazy over this rugged appearance. You'll have so many petite virgin cuntholes to pop open that you'll never forget tomorrow night. Provided that those painted whores are into corpses!" The Coyote Man laughed and moved his knife to Matthew's right cheek. A small droplet of blood slit from the puncture he began to make. Then the Coyote Man heard something that mortified his bones.
The laughter of a sadistic madman as the Assassin that the Coyote Man thought he had paralyzed snuck up behind the two redcoats restraining the boy. The two men suspected, but they heard the man too late. Two knifes lodged themselves deep in their throats, fountains of blood seeping from their wounds. They manage to let out shrill, feminine screams and the man shook his head in disapproval. With a laugh, he slammed their heads together. There was a sickening sound like a fruit being crushed and bones cracking while he did this. "I have come to… deliver…. justice… and you're next…"
Ratonhnhake:ton pushed Matthew to the side. It was Connor speaking, he ordered the son to run. He did not want him around, to see what he would do the Coyote Man. Then Ratonhnhake:ton took over again while Matthew fled from the visible distance. "What… no… I poisoned you, how can you be fighting back?"
"You dared to harm my family. You dared to threaten the safety of my village and people. I will take much pleasure in cleansing your filth from this world." The Assassin advanced on him, leaving his blades stuck in the dead redcoats, and the Coyote Man heard a tone of malice that had existed not when he was fighting him earlier.
"No... No…, get back you fucking monster!" The Coyote Man frantically waved his shank at the Assassin. "You have no weapons, its suicide! I will kill you, assassin! Stop coming at me!" The Coyote Man stabbed the Assassin in the side with his knife. He drew it out with blood, but the Assassin didn't stop.
Ratohnhake:ton grabbed hold of the worm. The worm was squirming, trying to escape frantically beating upon him. He begged for Ratonhnhake:ton to show him some mercy, wasn't that what Connor Kenway was known for? "You make a grave mistake. I am not Connor Kenway, and I certainly am no assassin. I am Ratonhnhake:ton of the Kanienkehaka people, and I shall make sure that in your death my people can live safely." He delivered a mighty jab to the Coyote Man's face. The cow skull he work as a mask shattered. Fragments embedded themselves in the Coyote Man's face. His victim screamed.
Ratonhnhake:ton was holding the man's arm now. All he needed to do was apply a little bit of pressure in this direction. With a snapping sound, the Coyote Man howled in inhuman tones while the Native dislocated his arm. Ratonhnhake:ton raised his right foot and sharply lashed his foot to the Coyote Man's knee. His victim screamed again and again. How was it that Connor had trouble fighting this pathetic wretch of a fighter?
The Coyote Man was writhing on ground, his limbs contorted into cruel mockeries. He couldn't move, not even to roll to the side. Ratonhnhake:ton stomped on the man's groin, and relished the sound of his torment. The Coyote Man was muttering his own native tongue now, but Ratonhnhake:ton didn't bother listening to what the man was saying. No one listened to what the insignificant insect said before the boot crushed it unaware.
He can hear Connor's voice frantically begging him to relent, and end the torture. Ratonhnhake:ton refused to listen. Connor had been a comprising fool, weak and unable to do what had been done. Like the case with Washington. The commander had killed his mother and burned his village. He had deserved to die. But Connor never acted. He simply threatened Washington and continued to dispense his dirty deeds at Monmouth and West Point. Thanks to Connor's weakness, the father he never had was dead at Connor's hands and Washington the monster lived. A life he could've had was gone thanks to Connor. The vengeance he could've had for a destroyed childhood was gone thanks to Connor. Connor the Assassin would no longer have any say in what he did. He would punish them all in the ways that Connor wouldn't.
He was pounding his fists into the Coyote Man's face. The man had stopped screaming. It would be a disservice to call the pulpy, gory mess that Ratonhnhake:ton was beating a man in its current state. The man must be long dead, but Ratonhnake:ton continues to beat on it. He feels his hand break as he pounds the blood-spattered ground too hard. He won't relent. Then he hears a woman's voice in the corner of his mind call to him in disgust. In a native tongue. "Ratonhnhake:ton, what have you done?"
Ratonhnhake:ton rises to his feet, above the corpse that was the Coyote Man. Whenever Connor killed one of his targets in the past, time seemed to slow as they gasped their final words to Connor. But there were no words here, just a mutilated corpse. Ratonhnhake:ton was alone. More alone that he had ever felt.
"I did what was right. For you. For our people! I punished him for you!" He shouted to the deserted area, his roar echoing across the rooftops. Surviving Assassin apprentices and Homesteaders observed him from the distance, their expressions worried. Their captive redcoats were mortified as they looked at the dead body of the Coyote Man. Matthew was shocked. He never knew that his father had been capable of such brutality and sadism…
He heard in his head the voice again. "I won't believe you, Ratonhnhake:ton. No matter how hard you try to convince me. Even your father would've been disgusted by this showing."
"I DID IT FOR YOU!" He shouted to himself again.
"Good-bye, Ratonhnhake:ton. I said that I would never leave you, but now I regret my words."
Ratonhnhake:ton dropped to his knees in despair. He shut his eyes to prevent the tears from forming.
Connor opened his eyes.
He almost threw up when he saw what he had let himself do the Coyote Man. Not even a Templar deserved such an animal-like treatment. He tired, and he saw the blood trickling from the wound. How much had he lost? He had made a grave mistake, letting his repressed rage and emotions finally take complete control. But you had to do it, that voice was there telling him again. They would've killed your son if you hadn't.
Connor limped back to the mansion. He saw the tomahawk embedded into the column. Using the last of his strength, he grunted and pulled it out. Connor slid and sat down, his back against the column. He had been poisoned, hadn't he? He could feel it finally taking effect. The sounds around him were dulling, he couldn't feel the tomahawk he grasped in his hands. Connor felt his world growing dark and cold.
Matthew was in front of him. Anxiously shouting for him not to go. Saying that he could run and get the doctor. "I need you to stay awake, father!" Matthew begged in front of his face. Connor weakly gazed at his son, tried to smile. "I shouldn't live, Matthew… not when I let myself sink to such low-levels…" He tried to whisper to his son. Matthew was almost to the point of hysterically shaking Connor, to keep him on the same realm as he.
It felt like a weight, pointing his arm at the Coyote Man's corpse. "I… let… too… much… of him take control. All the rage. All the hatred. All the fantasies of revenge let grown unchecked for far too long. Let loose far too long. Make… sure… she never… becomes like this." He mouthed to Matthew's ear.
"Goddamn it, I won't let you die like this, father! Now when we finally have the chance and peace to reconcile!" Matthew ran off. Connor futilely knew that his son planned to fetch the Doctor, from wherever he had hidden. He knew that when his son returned, it would probably be too late. Memories flashed.
Mother didn't often read to him from the journal, but on a rare occasion, the day that he had been born she took him by her side. She read to him the words she said were his father's. He had asked if he would ever get to meet his father. A look of uneasiness and sadness darkened his mother's face. She then simply told him that she that it was getting late. The young Ratonhnhake:ton tried to make sense of what she meant.
"I love you." were her last words as the longhouse collapsed into flames over a year later.
He felt alienated from everyone, even when his best friend was around. Yet, something inside him warmed as he saw the fat boy hunt his first hare.
He was an eagle, flying through a world of dreams while the mysterious woman told him of his destiny. He awoke on the beach, with the symbol scratched into the sand. The symbol of the Assassins.
He would never leave, he angrily shouted back the miserly colored man. The stubborn grump would eventually give in and train him, he knew it. He then retired to the stables to set up for the night.
It was the first time that he had seen his father. He was struck by the desire to climb down from the building, push through the chaos, and just speak to him. But his father locked eyes with him. He pointed the men in red coats at him. Connor ran for his life.
The power of being in control of this massive ship. Connor felt invincible as the Aquila cruised through the open sea.
Marking the column with the tomahawk as he went to war. Little did he realize that this war wasn't as black and white as he thought.
It was a feeling of victory, as Connor held the last crate of heavy tea in his hands. The crowd around him cheered, and Samuel Adams gave him words of gratitude. In the distance, he saw the three men. The man with the black hair and beard in red saw what had happened to the tea and Connor could feel his anguish. He smirked at the man. To fully commemorate what he thought was victory, he dropped final crate in the harbor. Little did he know it was just a setback…
Meeting George Washington for the first time. The man left his mark on the young Connor as they shook hands, and he wondered if this was the man that could protect his people.
Charging across the battlefield, Connor had made it into the redcoat camp. He snuck through the grass and tents, hoping that he wouldn't have to take anyone's life except the man he sought. Through the trees and onto the top of the flagpole, he leapt at Pitcairn.
The crowd booed and jeered. A woman rushed at him and delivered a sock to his jaw. Achilles was helping him off as the woman was held back. The noose was tightened, he dropped. Choking, but something cut the rope. Hickey's eyes widened and he fled to kill Washington in desperation. Connor felt someone say something to him and slip the tomahawk into his hands. He stumbled after Hickey. It wasn't until much later that he found out that it wasn't his recruits that saved him, but his own father. The enemy.
Rushing to meet Washington, to warn him of the threat to his life. Achilles scolded him, warning him that life was not a fairy tale and that there would be no happy ending. Connor snapped back at Achilles, but he should've heed the man's warning…
In the cold winter at Valley Forge, Lafeyette and Connor chatted as they strolled through the camp observing the growing Patriot army. Lafeyette invited him to visit his family in France one day, to which Connor accepted.
He awkwardly held Dobby Carter's hands in the New York pub. He hadn't allowed himself to ever get intimate with any women. He was unsure of the future of his choice of words, but he told her that he would give her the first chance.
The brewery burns. Haytham shoves him to safety as structures collapse. Father and son scramble from the burning building.
He and Haytham made quite the duo, he thought as they retrieved Church's stolen cargo from the island. Perhaps, he later told Achilles, this could be the start of the unification of Assassin and Templar.
Betrayal by Washington.
He tried to reason with his childhood friend, but the prideful warrior wouldn't listen. Connor was pinned to his back, as the knife pressed closer to his throat. In panic, he popped the hidden blade into Kaneh'to:kon's neck.
He eventually met with the Clan Mother much later. He tried to explain to her how his friend had died, but he couldn't bring himself to tell the whole truth.
"Enjoy your victory. It'll be the last I deliver you." He coldly told Washington as he walked away from Monmouth.
"How dare you call upon me after Monmouth?" Connor confronts Washington. But Washington convinces him to take one final job, to weed out the traitor at West Point. When Washington's shocked that Patriot hero Benedict Arnold has betrayed the cause, Connor satisfyingly tells him that "You reap what you sow."
Haytham's eyes went cold. His body fell to its side. "Good-bye, Father." was all Connor told him. Eventually he would weep for the loss of his father and what may have been.
He was shocked as he stumbled into Achilles' study. He begged the old man in the chair to wake up. At the funeral, Connor dropped a single white feather into the casket.
He prepared for the end of the war. With his knife, he shaved off most of hair leaving a mohawk. With his fingers, he applied the war paint to his face. It was time to kill Charles Lee.
"Because no one else will!" He replied and shot Charles Lee.
The two of them were wounded and bloody. Charles Lee tiredly sat the table with a bottle of ale. Connor hated the man and the man hated Connor, but Charles offered Connor the bottle as he took a seat next to Charles. Connor took the bottle from him, took a sip. The two shared a moment of mutual understanding. Lee briefly smiled and gave a thin, near inaudible laugh. Then his expression grew cloudy and his eyes looked at Connor as if to say "Now's the time. Do it." Connor took his knife and stabbed Charles Lee. He took the amulet from Lee's neck and left his body at the table.
The village was deserted. He protested to the mysterious woman that he had failed, but she reassured him that he had made a difference. That he would do so yet again. Her words were ambiguous, yet reassuring to the Assassin as the crystal ball crumbled in his hands.
The paintings of his father and the other men were burned. He dug up a grave to a boy named Connor Davenport. He finally understood why Achilles chose the name for him. He dropped Lee's amulet into the boy's grave. One day someone else would find it and make a difference once again…
Washington is telling him about bocce, how he plans to have a yard built at Mt. Vernon. Connor angrily scolds the man, that he doesn't deserve to abandon his duties of leader so soon. Washington congratulates him later for winning their game of bocce, but Connor still states that this changes nothing between them.
Connor feels something within him bloom as he holds the baby boy in his arms for the first time. His wife looks tired but happy. "What shall we name him?" He asks her. "Matthew." was her first answer.
Frederique is a former prostitute, but Connor finds himself slowly admiring the woman as they repeatedly stumble across each other in early days of French Revolution. Connor has no idea of the terror that will unfold following the ousting of the monarchy. She asks if he'll take her to visit America when it's all done. He says yes.
Connor's hidden blade did not kill Maximilien Robespierre or the other members of the Legislative Assembly that he helped arrest. He decided that it was much more fitting that the own people they terrorized deliver fitting punishments. He observed from the crowd as the guillotine came down on the French man's head.
He feels tired of his life, the assassinations and battles.
Back in America with Frederique by his side. He briefly makes eye contact with a man as he speaks to Chapeau with his desire to retire. He doesn't recognize his son, and the young man is haunted by this fact until they meet again years later.
War has been declared against Britain again, thanks to Templar meddling, and Connor hears that the former colonies plan to invade the British Canada to make their land part of the States once they win the war. Connor maintained neutrality, but soon enough the war would tear itself into his life.
Someone else was in front of Connor. He was skeletal, garbed in a robe of black. When he spoke his voice was expressionless. Neutral. No sides chosen.
"Hello, Connor. It's time to go."
Connor smiled at the stranger. He wasn't afraid.
"Do you want more time, Connor? They all do."
"No, I've had a long life. Good enough."
He took hold of Connor's hand. He felt his strength returning as he was on his feet. He let go of the stranger's hand and the two walked side by side to meet the people in the distance. He waved to them, and the man tipped his hat at Connor. He wondered if Ratonhnhake:ton would find his peace as well.
Matthew and the doctor were rushing to the manor. Matthew held a bottle but when he saw Connor, he dropped it and heard the bottle shatter. His fist clenched. He tried to hold back the tears, but he felt them slipping down his cheek regardless.
"I will teach her the ways of our Order, father. I will make you proud." With his free hand, Matthew closed Connor's eyes.
Matthew carried Connor in his arms to the pier, where the Aquila was returning. He didn't know how Frederique and Charlotte react when they saw Connor. He hoped that it would be all right.
On the horizon, an eagle screeched and took to the skies. A wolf howled.
Although this is the end of my interpretation of Connor, an afterwards chapter catching up with my original characters will be added soon ™