Chapter 10
The war had officially begun. Alongside General Washington, we opposed the oppressive grip of the king. We fought hard, struck where they never expected, and it was paying off. Bunker Hill was our last major victory. We managed to fortify the position literally overnight and when fighting finally broke out, we crushed the British. The numbers are all there. Their force was huge. 3000 in total. Of the 226 killed that day, I took out at least 57 in close-quarters combat. Of the 828 wounded, 46 were bitten by me, and died painfully during treatment. Because of our smaller force, our losses were about even in proportion, but we lost less than 500 people, while the redcoats lost over a thousand. I was en route to new york after that with Washington and his best regiment, Those under my command. We called ourselves the Hades Corps, masters of the night, set to drag the redcoats to the gates of hell.
We were few in number, but strong in heart. There were 8 of us. Marshal, George (not Washington), Ethan, Jonathan, Simon, Julius, and me. All of us were lost to history, but our impact was not. Various small skirmishes abound, but we found some rest on July 4thof that year. The rest of the Hades Corps made camp outside the besieged city of Boston. Symbolically, it was a cage to the British, until their troops were slaughtered by marauding werewolves, which unlike Lycans, are forever bound to their lupine form. As I watched the city, I noticed a carrier pigeon out the corner of my eye. It was one of Tallmadge's pigeons. Instead of carrying a message on a leg, it was carrying an envelope.
I collected the envelope from the pigeon, fed it, and sent it on its way. Opening the envelope, I found it held two papers. The first was a letter from Benjamin Tallmadge describing his thoughts on our progress with the war. He also described little Sonjas first transformation. He also mentioned that little Sonja took well to the training. Mentioning that he would not be surprised if she succeeded him one day. The second piece was a sketch done of little Sonjas altered form. Naturally, her proportions were unchanged, but she had more in common with lycans than werewolves. She had less fur than I did, and she had a shorter muzzle. She still had wings, and a tail for balance. Remarkably, the sketch showed all her clothing intact. Still, remarkably, little Sonja managed to make it look cute.
I folded the sketch away into one of my pockets and joined the rest of the Hades Corps. When morning came, we marched on. Through hardships untold, and small battles scattered throughout our path to New York. It took us until September to arrive there, where we met up with General Washington. On the 8th, he approached Hades Corps We all stood at attention. "Hades Corps, it's time for your most difficult assignment. We need someone to go behind enemy lines and report on their troop movements. If we want to take the town back, we have to know where to strike. I'm not forcing any of you to do anything. You know the penalty for capture. If you want to go, step forward now." I stepped forward when no one else did.
"I volunteer."
"Are you certain?" asked the general.
"The bastards took my wife, George. My family is scattered and in hiding. The truth of it is that I have truly nothing left to lose."
"Makes a man dangerous. I won't let you go it alone." said Simon. "Take me with you." The rest of the Hades corps stepped forward, taking Simon's led.
"I can't let you do this. You and these other men have your own destinies to fulfill. This last act of service is mine."
"You really think we'll abandon you," said Jonathan, "after all we've been through. Who was it that rallied us to fortify Bunker Hill in one night?"
"I did but…"
"And who was at the front lines in Lexington? Who stood up to the british and said Enough? And who…"
"Enough," I said, "but that changes everything. Your objective is to keep tabs on their troop movements. I'll cause as much havoc as I can and drive the bastards back." With those words we waited 4 days to deploy into new york. On the morning of sertember the twelfth, the Hades Corps and I were ferried across to the island where we all went our separate ways. It was deep in the night under the moon and the stars that I shed my human shell. I tore off all of my upper garments leaving my chest and arms bare except for my blade bracers. It has been so long since I had last transformed, the experience this time was much slower, and actually painful. Closing my eyes as it began, I could hear my bones shifting and breaking only to mend and reform, a subtle itch swept over me brining a thick coat of lupine fur.
My fingernails gave way to wicked black claws and my spine extended into a long, lupine tail, designed for balance in the air and at speed on land. As my face pushes out into a powerful lupine jaw, thoughts of anger and revenge dominate my mind. All I began to care about was crushing the enemy under my heels. As my legs finished taking on their digigrade shape, My back exploded in pain as one of my wings grew in followed by the next. I spread each one violently to shake off the stiffness as a thin coat of fur spread across them. Under the moonlit sky, my eyes opened and I unleashed a vengeful howl before leaping into the air and taking flight.
New York province didn't look like a battleground in the traditional sense, making it easier to spot potential prey. One such moment arose and out of the forest stepped a redcoat patrol about 9 strong. They had a slightly familiar scent but I could tell none of them had anything to do with Natalie's execution, but for serving under the crown, an example must be made of them. I descend before them and they weren't sure what to do. Just as they aligned their muskets I rose to my hind legs and dashed forward before they could fire. The first had his throat slit by my wing. The next tried to shoot me again, but I was able to grab his musket and stab him in the heart with his own Bayonet. The remaining seven drew their swords and came at me but I used wings as defensive blades, parrying every strike opening the window for my wrist blades to finish them off. The captain was remarkably still alive.
"So one yet lives. Pitty. You're not going to enjoy this." I said as I approached him menacingly, blades drawn, saliva dripping from my vicious teeth. The captain tried to back away quickly on the ground, scuttling back like an insect. A menacing snarl escaped my maw as my bat-like ears picked up his quickened heartbeat.
"Who… what are you?" he asked in a panicked frenzy.
"If I had a pound for every time I've heard that, I'd be very wealthy. Who I am is of no importance. What matters is what I am. Where I go, death to the unworthy will come on very swift wings. You stand at this precipice because of the oppression you have allowed."
"I act by will of the king. It is he you must take issue with." Said the captain as I drew ever closer, his frenzied mind struggling to cope with his impending demise. "Spare me and God will spare you." I drew even closer, grabbing him by the neck and hoisted him up.
"You invoke the wrath of God? Foolish Englishman. If god wanted you to live, He wouldn't have created me." In one swift motion, I simultaneously snapped his neck and tore his throat out. Clearly I would be a bloody mess before this was over. But from the dead soldiers, I caught a familiar scent. It would have to wait. Morning came and I reverted to human form, stealing one of the soldiers uniforms in the hopes of blending in. I spent three days in cognito, but then Washington was forced to retreat when the british took control, leaving me behind.
Hoping to prevent the British from taking the city, I spent the next six days regrouping the Hades corps and together we set fire to the lower portion of Manhattan. It was after that that we split up again. In the chaos, I watched from above as they tried to round up suspected partisans. It was then that I spied him. The man who stole Natalie away from me. I shed my upper garments once more and the rage in my heart triggered my transformation reflex. As it ended, I took off and before anyone could blink, swooped down and plucked my target from the ground. I set him down and landed atop Beekman House, holding him by the neck over the edge. "The time has come for you to atone for your sins. The blood of the innocent cries out for justice."
"I… don't… understand!" he struggled to speak as his airways were constricted. I drew his face closer to mine.
"Remember Natalie Hale? A woman you condemned to death?"
"What was she to you, dog? A master?"
"She was my wife. You murdered her!" I extended my arm again, holding him over the edge.
"You and the colonists must learn their place. And now you dare strike out against us?"
"No army can stop an idea whose time has come. When they tell the story of our revolution, it is I who will be remembered. You will fade into nothing." I pulled him back and bit deep into his shoulder, drawing on the sweet blood of revenge from his veins. I left him atop that roof, screaming in unbearable agony. It was worth it, knowing Natalie could now rest peacefully. As I take to the skies again, I saw scores of riflemen taking aim. As they fire, their rounds pierce my wing membrane, as it's hit more and more, I loose altitude only to crash down and revert to my human form. I was surrounded on all sides, in terrible pain, I couldn't fight back, so I had no choice but to be dragged into Beekman House. I was seated inside an office with generous stacks of books on the shelves and the desk held a battle map of Manhatten.
I heard footsteps from one of the rooms coming into the office. I saw a man clad in the uniform of a british general. I had observed this man before the revolution, a man of character, until I fired the shot that started the nation. "You've caused quite a bit of trouble, Mr. Hale. A blazing fire, my men killed. I've seen the bodies, Nathan. Claw marks, missing throats. What the hell are you?" H slammed his fist into the desk in front of me. I remained calm and stoic, hoping to use his rage against him.
"If some animal can just sneak through the lines and kill your men. Like at Boston. Oh, the tragedy of being unable to escape while they were slaughtered horribly."
"Cut the bullshit, Hale. You know what killed my men in Boston and you know damn well what attacked them here. Tell me everything you know."
"You really want to know, don't you? You'd never believe me if I told you. You've heard the stories from the werewolf trials, haven't you? Not ALL of those executed were crazy. Some were actually werewolves. Lycans, actually, since they were able to take human form. Werewolves are forced to remain animals forever and be grateful your men in Boston are all dead. As for what attacked your men here, I was the one who killed them." It was then I allowed my canines to sharpen and my claws to grow out and blacken. I even let my wings loose and swiped the bladed tip of my left wing across his face before retracting them back into my body. I could tell that Howe was only getting more and more pissed off. But his face betrayed a stunned general unable to make sense of what he saw.
"What the hell are you?"
"I am the howling vengeance you hear under the moon, the shadow on the ground cast from the skies above. A union of ancient bloodlines once deemed incompatible. The strengths of both the weaknesses of neither." He was in fear and sent his guards to cast me into the green house. "Can I at least get a bible?" I asked.
"What does it matter to you, Hale? You're not even human."
"So, I don't get a clergyman either?" Howe slammed the door, leaving me to overheat in the green house until the next day. I spent the night contemplating what I believed to be my last moments. How ironic that we Assassins promote peace through murder. I tried to keep my values in mind, but how often had I abused the power in my blood simply to achieve my goal? The horrible deaths so many had endured because of my bite or my blades, were they really worth it? Did I ever really have a right to decide who should live or die for the greater good? And how many had to die simply to sate my bloodlust? I pondered these questions until morning, and accepted whatever fate awaited me. In the morning Two men came into the greenhouse and bound my wrists with steel shackles.
I was lead down Post Road past the sites of many skirmishes. I saw the bodies I had left in my wake, torn and mutilated. When we reached the Park of Artillery, I was led to the gallows. Upon standing on the platform, I saw the crowd around me. Some were patriots, like myself. Others were loyalists. A young former slave no older than thirteen prepared my noose before one of Howe's guards stepped up to address the crowd before turning to me. "Nathan Hale, you stand here accused of murder," he said. The crowd gasped. "Espionage, and treason against the crown. The sentence for all of these is death. And so, you shall hang from the neck until dead. Have you any last words?" I took a step forward, lifted my head, and took in a deep breath.
"How beautiful is death, when earned by virtue. Who would be that youth? What pity is it that we can die but once to serve our country." The hangman pulled the lever and I fell, twitching and gasping for breath, a thick and icy darkness creeps through my vision and my soul and suddenly, nothing. When I came to again, I didn't know what to feel. I was relieved to be alive, but confused at the same time. I looked around to see myself on the slab as I watched two men digging my grave.
"Should we even bother with a grave stone. It's not like anyone will remember him this is all over." I got up and transformed silently, approaching my would-be gravediggers with blades extended.
"It's big enough for two." I said. I thrust one blade through each of them. As they started spewing blood out their mouths, I retracted my blades and shoved them into the hole. I licked the blood from my bracers and felt my strength renewed. After that, years had passed before I met General Washington again. I met him again on his deathbed. I knelt by his side, hanging on his every word. In his weakened state, he produced a sword and presented it to me. It was HIS coulichmarde that he used in the war.
"Nathan, you haven't aged a day. Sadly, I die before I see my legacy. Your impact is one you can observe through the ages. And so I give you my sword. Riase it only in defense, just as America will never take up her sword against any other nation." I took his sword for myself and our first president died without pain. Never in my life had I met a nobler man. To the point that what slaves he had were freed in his will. It was a privilege to serve him, but all he had taught me will be carried on into my uncertain future.