"A good End cannot sanctify evil Means; nor must we ever do Evil, that Good may come of it."
William Penn
Nothing but rigorous training happened the next few weeks they stayed there in at the Davenport manor of Homestead. Whenever the old man had to rest, he would and leave the young native boy to practice his reading and writing. It was something the Goth was good at. She was the head of the Poetry club back in middle school—a subject of literature was a really big deal for her. Seeing as this was the 18th century, as she discovered, cursive was more dominant. Therefore, this writing session would take some doing. When Achilles came to her and told her to help her "guardian", she obliged. How hard can it be?
"What the fuck is this shit?" she gestured to the practice sheet that was given to her native attendant. He just looked at her innocently as if he did nothing wrong. It was sort of pissing her off badly. He shrugged his shoulders.
"It's writing."
"Boy, I will slap you. How the hell did you learn the English language and not come across writing?"
"But I have come across—"
"Ugh! I know…" she pinched the bridge of her nose, "Brothers' Grimm—wait a minute... that can't be right. You sure it was the Brothers' Grimm you have?"
He took a single book from his side bag and handed it to her. Indeed it was. However, she recalled something that bothered her about this. If this is the early 1700s, then why is a book that wouldn't be officially written out until the 1780s in this boy's hands? There might be more to this time flip than she thought there would be. She came from the 21st century, so she supposed that she won't be the only blast from the future. However, the surprises should be limited. She sighed and looked back at his writing.
"Look…" she took the quill he used that was still wet with ink, "The lowercase b's have a loop to start and the l's, too. The b's loop towards the end rise and curl up—see?" He watched her hands closely and saw them trace a genuine form of a cursive letter. His eyes were so focused, taking note on how her hands were expertly re-writing words and spoke of how they should be written. The young teen made it known that writing is a complex subject when it comes to English—as the language itself is the most difficult language known to man. The native took in how her face became aglow despite her black attire and the strange raccoon rings around her eyes. She looked truly passionate about it. Unbeknownst to him, he smiled as she was finishing her short explanation.
"…The hell are you staring at?" she poked his face, aware that he didn't like "strangers" touching him, snapping him from his trance of her.
"N-Nothing… you seem very passionate about reading and writing. And your hands…"
"What about my hands?" she snapped, unaffected.
"You are a craftsman, aren't you?"
Tsipporah placed the quill down and stared for a moment. She shook her head, giving her bottom lip a quick lick. They really should be reviewing today's nights. Can she complain? She hasn't said a word about herself and he has said enough. He seemed very unique for the classic hero type. His father was the enemy, he had a rough past, and he's a mixed blood. Well, it doesn't get any better than this. Perhaps something about him will improve her character. She thought of it—of why unlikely people meet under timely or untimely circumstances, but then again, this can't be a complete coincidence because she's always wished for adventure and he… he wants to go out and fight for his people. They're going down the same consistent path in order to save the world. Well, damn; seems like the end result's going to be just as satisfying as the journey itself. First things first, though—he needed to gain some skills on top of the skills he has now. Can't fight an army with the level he's at right now.
"Yeah," she scratched her neck, "I'm an artist, writer—all that bullshit. I love it, too. Much more fun to experience something before having it painted down. I mean, if I had my sketchbook, I could show you. Anyway, moving on."
There was a knock on the door and the old man called for someone to get it. The native boy sighed and got to his feet, heading for the door. He timidly opened the door, but upon looking on the faces of the visitors, he instantly beamed and opened the door wider. The Goth got up as well since the "hero" didn't come back to the study those few minutes. When she got to the archway, she was tackled to the wooden floor.
"Agh! What the fuck?! This has got to stop—Oh, it's you guys." She gave a greeting smile, despite being in pain. It was only Kanen'tó:kon and Kateri. The old man was going to have a field day now. The teen slowly rose again, giving her new girl-friend a side hug. "What are you two doing over here?"
"We wanted to see what Ratonhnhaké ton was doing," the chubby one stated, "Clan Mother told us that you two went on an important journey together, so we traveled far to find you. You were gone for days—Kateri was worried sick." Tsipporah had never heard this one speak out before in English. Sort of amusing that he did, but wished he had when they first met. Maybe… maybe she should learn some Mohawk speak so she can better communicate with them. She had a feeling that she'll be seeing these people more often.
"It is good to see you as well, my friends, but I am studying right now."
"Studying?" Kateri's eyes widened like a child's, "Studying what, dear cousin?"
"Reading, writing, 'rithmetic," the teen answered for him and started pushing him back into the study room when she heard footsteps sound from down the hall, "Okay, as long as this beautiful family is going to stay out here, maybe you should go back to studying so the old man doesn't hand me my ass. Understand?" The curious natives followed them and the teen forgot. "Oh… you guys need anything? Water, maybe?" They shook their heads and watched as their own was trying to write words on paper. It was as if they were watching a goldfish. To the Goth, it was getting pretty unnerving because she was explaining what to edit in the writing portion.
"Sure you guys don't need anything?"
"Ratonhnhaké ton is writing!" Kateri cheered, "I want to learn how to write, too!"
"I think I'm content with just one of you guys fixing a whole gangbang of loops on paper, 'kay?"
"Excuse me?" Ratonhnhaké ton clenched his quill, "What was that?"
"You heard me," she sassed, "A gangbang of loops! That's what your writing looks like." The two natives stifled their laughter and her 'student' was just at the edge of his seat in a matter of seconds. He wondered if she was just doing this to get attention from his comrades. It was starting to get on his nerves. As he stood, his childhood friend came in between them, sensing the building tension. If they were stuck with each other, then they should be getting along and not get into fights like this constantly. The old man entered with a grimace to see who the visitors were. Just when he thought there would be some mild peace and quiet, more delinquents showed up.
"If you are going to be this disruptive, then I suggest you study outside."
"Sorry…" his student bowed his head, "We shall take our leave, then." He gathered the notes, books—whatever he needed and nodded for them all to go out. Closing the door behind them, Tsipporah blinked at the onslaught of sunlight that overwhelmed the homestead. It highlighted every single blade of grass, tree, flow of the river ahead—it was a perfect picture. She just wished she had paints out to do so. She shrugged as the tree-hugger went on ahead with his cousin. She also heard the grass breaking from behind her and spun on her heel.
"Peace, Tsipporah. It's only me."
"Oh. Hey, Ken," she leaned forward, "Aren't you gonna run to your girl or something? Talk to your friend…?"
"You will have to join my friend as well since you are helping him with his studies. And—what's wrong?" he looked at her face and dared not to touch her for it was rude to get in another's personal space in their custom. She sucked her teeth.
"Well… y'know…" she gestured.
"No, I do not," he shook his head.
"Okay, I have to ask and this is completely random, but…" she inhaled, "How popular is he—Ray-Ray?"
"Ratonhnhaké ton? He is one of the best hunters in our village—the youngest one as well. When you appeared in the forest, he was teaching me how to hunt. Many of the young girls throw themselves at him. It is no surprise either—he is Clan Mother's only grandchild." Wait… what?
"The fuck—grandchild? He's practically a chief's grandchild, man!"
"In a way…" he watched her reaction with great amusement, "Why do you ask? Do you wish to throw yourself at him?" She responded with a glare, but couldn't exactly stray from the truth. Well, half of the truth. They walked along so they wouldn't fall behind.
"He's… cute. I dunno, man. I'm always surrounded by handsome guys with some big social status-family, so this is nothing new. Except they were all assholes, but they like to hang around me. Maybe because I end up getting hit on by hot girls—who knows?" Th chubby native tried not to laugh at her expense. The spectacle and thought of her getting hit on by girls seemed a bit farfetched. "What?"
"It is nothing," he wiped his brow, "I was afraid for my friend and even more afraid to leave the valley, but he is determined. You seem to be good company, so why not be friends with him. He is the most humble person I know. His heart is true. To fight with him would be a waste of your journey. And from the looks of it, I believe he's taken into some liking in you."
"Why do you and girlfriend keep saying that?" then she stopped to actually take the words in. He has protected her from the danger of the woods so far. Several wolves were killed when she poked her head through the forest and saved her from getting impaled by a charging moose. Even when they first came here, he got hurt fending off a mountain lion. In the stables, he would always get them food. Yeah, he was much more capable than she was. He was indeed a skillful hunter, but his skills could only take him so far. He had to get stronger. She would see to it. "You know what, Ken? I guess he is. I'm not gonna lie—there was so much skinning involved when we were coming up here, it was just plain ridiculous. As for him liking me—maybe as a friend. I don't really seem like the… the special type of girl for anyone…"
Kanen'tó:koncame around until he was in front of her. This sort of alarmed the Goth as her eyes were lowered to the ground in thought. He looked a little hurt that she said what she said, but at the same time, it seemed that he made an accidental discovery. He lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes. The teen pouted at the sight.
"So you do like him…"
"Shut up. Attracted maybe, but not in that sense. The feeling will probably pass."
"The feeling will probably take over. At least let him know."
"I let him know every-day that he's cute, his eyes are handsome—I just don't like him like that. There are more things I'm concerned about like… if I'll get in the way. I… I don't fight or kill, so what good am I here, dude?" His face softened and adjusted his weight to his left foot as he looked into her eyes. As he suspected, they were full of confusion and uncertainty. He may have been a novice at hunting whereas his friend was an expert, but one of his better skills was to read someone's state of mind to an extent. To him, she thought herself as being annoying and a nuisance. She didn't seem like the sort. He's seen her strength before in game. He smirked widely.
"You protect each other. You and I know that we are not so good in what we're expected to do. I am not the greatest hunter, but how would I know if I've yet to try?"
"You had me running from a bear, you douche-bag," she said deadpanned.
"What I mean to say is that whatever you are tasked with—you will get stronger as will Ratonhnhaké ton. You two have very strong personalities. You will succeed and I am certain of it." The teen blinked a few times and smiled. This guy's looked a little timid when she first saw him, but now was glad to have finally known of what the 'hero's' friends were like. The other two young natives ahead of them were already at the lake's edge, waiting for the others. After a few more minutes, they called after them.
"Kanen'tó:kon?" she bit her lip, "You gonna come by here often?"
"When the weather is fair and there aren't many beasts afoot. Why?"
"You just… you're a nice guy to talk to when I'm not talking to… that motherfucker over there."
"He'll grow on you. There are times where he would want to be alone—a fair warning I shall give you."
"Okay, but… Can we be friends? I mean, minus the fact that you had me running from a bear—"
"Friends… with an outsider?" he nodded, "Sounds adventurous. You are the first outsider I've ever spoken to. I am glad to be in your consideration." He beamed. The young adolescent had to admit; when he smiled, she gained a little strength that afternoon.
"Emily, speak to me—what has happened?"
"Your cousin… Kateri's here. And… she's not happy."
The young native women stood inside by the door with war written all over her face. In fact, she looked as if she's come to kill. Connor looked over the blonde's shoulder and watched her wait. She was calm. Too calm. Her eyes were filled with intense, mixed emotions. She sniffed and came over to the stairs, beckoning her cousin to come down and meet her with her hand. The novice silently cracked her fingers, not liking her invitation one bit. She expected the wife to come back with a vengeance, but Kateri was a different story—she was mad. She was more impulsive than anything. Once something came to mind with her, she'd do it without a second thought. Connor sharpened up. Maybe not entirely, but he brushed Angie aside to meet Kateri at the bottom.
Every step down, the native woman seemed to have gained more heat in her face. It made the women upstairs a bit nervous. The old man was in the sitting room, aware of what was happening while the maid quietly looked away. This was a family matter, so they should not interfere. He was finally in front of her.
"And how do you fare this morning, cousin?" he blankly asked. Her eye twitched, looking like she wanted to scream in his face instead of having a civil conversation. She took a deep breath.
"Well…" she huffed, placing her hands on her hips and swayed, "Mother calmed me down last night and we had the men gathered to honor my husband. I thought I was alright until… my sons asked me what happened to their father…" she grinded her teeth together, "And what do you suppose I should tell them, Ratonhnhaké ton?" He looked away as she explained, sounding a lot more fumed, "How do I explain to them that you killed him? How do I explain to them that you killed him in the forest like a wild animal!?"
"Kateri…"
"No!" she pushed him away, "I thought you were going to try to talk to him, but you only killed him instead. I didn't believe a word that Charles Lee had spoken because I know who he is." She circled around on the floor and stopped, seeing that the observers were there. "And where were you in all of this? Just watching?"
The novice curled up a lip. At that moment, she could care less if Kateri was going to pull out a blade, musket—it didn't matter. Tsipporah jumped over the railing and landed on the wooden floor. She rose to meet the native's feral eyes. Being afraid and full of guilt was tiring.
"We're going to Monmouth to help the Patriots," then she turned to Connor, "I'll get the horses, boss—"Kateri pushed her back. "This is hardly the time, dude."
"Really? You're just going to help the Patriots still? After all that's happened?"
"I am sorry if this displeases you, Kateri, but I have to do this. Charles Lee is planning to push back the rebellion and I must be present for them to have a victory."
"Are you touched in the head? Kanen'tó:kon's blood still wets our very doorstep and you're just going to go out to protect the Patriots once more? To stop the British? To stop Charles Lee?" He wandered on the spot as she spoke and the novice wondered if he was going to answer that.
"Yes." He bluntly answered with a fiery resolution in his eyes and a rare sternness in his voice. Time itself seem to freeze in that moment. Kateri was taken aback by his words. He really would. He would aid those that would harm the tribe even if it meant their destruction. The novice watched her movements. Her shoulders trembled uncontrollably and she quickly reached for her knapsack on her side, brandishing a blade. She lunged forward on the ball of her foot to push up and forward to land a precise blow—
Tsipporah suddenly had a flashback of last night; she didn't want to relive it. She had to do something she could have down. She jabbed a blow with her right index and middle fingers together into the native woman's arm, causing her to drop her knife, then proceeded to give quick punches to her side. It was too fast for the other to anticipate or follow, therefore, she fell over in confusion. Kateri grunted in frustration as her cousin picked her up from the floor and into his arms. It was futile to fight back for her limbs were exhausted. Connor didn't flinch or try to stop what was happening. It was better that she was stopped in a non-lethal manner. More so, he did not want her children motherless. Such a pain should never befall anyone else of his tribe. He turned his cousin to the maid of the manor and she nodded in understanding.
"Give her a few hours and she'll be moving around normally again," the novice went out the door, "I'll see you at the stables, boss."
Connor looked back to the old man. If he remembered correctly, his father came by with something and left in a matter of minutes. That would be a discussion left for another day. He headed for the basement to retrieve his standard attire and his weapons. His cousin wondered how he could act so passive about this. Kanen'tó:kon was his best friend—his first and closest friend growing up. He brushed it off like it was nothing. It angered her further. Achilles waved to the maid to have her put in the sitting room since she was going to be here for a while before returning. She couldn't move her limbs so well. All she could do was writhe and jerk until she was comfortable. Kateri covered her eyes for she felt more tears fall from them. Angie went back to gather her rifles, knowing that anything she'd say would not be held accountable.
"I know it is far from my place to say, but what he has done is no small matter for him. In fact, they were both very upset about these turn of events."
"You lie, old man," she choked, "He killed him in cold blood…"
"Child, I have no reason to defend Connor for any reason, but he is of humble heart. I must admit, that with his strength there is some pride to be placed in him, but he is by far the worst liar I have ever come across and his observer believes it to be so, too. If you take his words as false, then you will only prove to everyone how the apple does not fall too far from the tree." He carefully stood with his cane and turned to leave from the sitting room. "If you do not believe him amongst others—as a member of his closest and prominent family to him—then I do not believe he had no other business than to try to keep you safe. That boy is willing to kill his remaining parent in order to ensure your safety. If that means nothing to you, then I suppose his endeavors are truly for naught."
Kateri bit her lip and looked into the fireplace. She… she would be no different from her mother if she goes against Ratonhnhaké ton now, but he still helps the Patriots—the men who sought to destroy them. What on earth was he doing now? She was unsure of what she should do right now. Charles Lee is their enemy, but he warned the villagers that they were in danger. Who should she believe….?
Once everything was set, the two went to Monmouth in a matter of hours, which were spent either to eat or to relieve themselves. The novice would regularly urge the assassin to do so, but he would often hold for half the trip. When they reached the designated area, they found Loyalists perched at every doorstep of town. This was troublesome. The two resorted to climbing the rooftops to avoid detection. It was too early in the day for one's notoriety to plummet. When a roof tiling slipped from above, one of the guards looked about and searched their eyes to the roof. To their dismay, they only saw an eagle watching and jerking its head before flying off into the trees. After a while, the novice sighed, morphing back.
"That was close, but why are there Loyalists parked here? I thought the Patriots were making camp nearby. Isn't this risky for them?"
"Yes, it is. I wonder if they know of the guards wandering here. There may be a traitor among them." She recognized that look in his eyes. She'd seen it in the alpha wolf's eyes when he was always ready to attack, pillage—kill. He wore those eyes that night, but once the fighting dies down—his followers' claim—he is like their father to care for everyone. It would boggle her mind that the two were no different. A smile unknowingly came across her face and they dropped down from the tree quietly now that the guards weren't watching. In a sprint, they made it to the encampment where Lafayette was straightening out his men. He looked pretty worn out.
"Connor, my friend! Ah, and mademoiselle!" he gently took her palm and kissed it. The young native still didn't take too well with the inappropriate contact. The novice still didn't fully grasp the concept of not getting to touchy with strangers in his culture, but then again, her home is of French dominance. "You have come just in time to bear witness to our glorious victory." He gestured to his well-placed cannons and his men running back and forth, prepping for battle.
"Where is Charles Lee?" the novice scoffed, thinking it to be his catchphrase. He's been saying that ever since training when he'd get the chance to interrogate people.
"That batard," Lafayette huffed, "He shows up in the middle of our preparations and just takes charge. Screams at everyone to advance and then rides away. I am left to pick up the pieces." So Lee was gone again. God-damn it all.
"What do we do, boss? We lost his trail again by an hour…"
"If he is gone, then we have lost our chance to eliminate him."
"Eliminate him or make a truce?" she said, deadpanned with her hands on her hips. His lip curled up.
"What?"
"You know, that thing you do before you actually kill your targets where you spare their life the first time—"
"I will do no such thing."
"That's what you said about Johnson and Pitcairn… and Hickey… Now they're pushing daisies because they spat on your mercy." She thinned her lips, seeing that Connor was less than thrilled to hear her say such things. "But…" she lifted a finger, "I guess that's why I…"
"You what?" he started innocently.
"Mohawks aren't supposed to get all mushy outside their homes, but you get my point right? You're the only person I know who think about people as people even if they're your enemy. I like that about you. You think your adversaries as human, too." He looked away with his mind reeling back to last night—to how she held him when he was in a fit. For years, all he had let out was his anger, but with this woman he had shown more. He would deny the case despite having told her enough. It was as if his body was not his own. He had his arms wrapped around her and wept into her bosom. His stomach churned at the thought of her teasing him about it later in life. She must have sensed his thoughts because she lightly punched his arm like a bro.
"Don't worry, tree-hugger. Your secret's safe with me." She assured him. He wanted to say something back. Something, but he had some trouble finding the words. There was no time to anyway. Lafayette paced around until something caught his attention.
"Where did they come from?" he watched as legions of British soldiers were marching towards the encampment at the front. He shouted orders for they were not ready to fight, "Send word that we are falling back! Everyone to me. Now! Now!"
"I will hold the area while you bring them to safety!" Connor was ready to charge the enemy head on, but the French general had called for his finest men to assist him and ensure their victory. The novice shrugged her shoulders to the fact that because the Brotherhood was a secret society, she supposed that Connor was just another young man looking to play hero when—in fact—he is a one-man army of his own. They readied the most available cannon as fast as they could and the young assassin waved for the novice to assist them. And assisted she did. She quickly took the gunpowder and loaded the cannon, and steadfast she did roll the cannon-balls in within minutes. Hours spent on the Aquila made this no difficult chore. The men were a bit astonished to see a woman of her slender stature work so fast with iron that nearly weighed more than their own body-mass combined. Connor took pride in her capability to do so, and then ordered for the men to ready to fire. The men snapped from their bewilderment and got to work.
The rest of the Patriot-aides were firing with their muskets as the cannon were constantly being reloaded and targeting to fire. More and more redcoats were flooding into the dirt path ahead. The men had not much to go on, but they had to hold back their foe as much as they could. It didn't take long before they were running out of cannonballs. It also happened at the wrong time as well for the British troops were still advancing. The novice gave her boss a look and jerked her shoulder to the redcoats. He shook his head, turning down her suggestion.
"Boss…" she pressed, "There's a shit-ton of redcoats coming…" she promised to not use her power because of his worry for her. She would never break a promise to him, but now she really needed his permission. He pulled her arm instead, dragging her to urge the men to fall back. "Boss…" she didn't want to be rendered useless.
"I will not allow you to hurt yourself again."
"And I can't let any more men die when I know I can stop as much as you can…" she sucked some air in, "But a promise is a promise. I'll just kick some ass." She wrenched her arm out of his hold and ensued to kick the sternum of one of the mooks. Connor sprinted down the road, yelling for the others to escape and fend off the rest of the Regulars.
"Go!" he stabbed two officers, "I can deal with this!" More men came storming in and one of them suddenly fell, tripping the rest and putting them in disorder. Connor wasn't sure what the cause of this was, but he kept parrying the men who tried to surround him. Another jumped on his back to throw him off. It had little effect for he dropped him in a suplex. Then more of the expert foot soldiers came afoot, swinging their axes. Before one could lay a fatal blow to the assassin's body, they were cut down quickly. Connor jumped to his feet when someone before him unsheathed a rather large blade.
"Aveline?" he questioned upon the womanly figure clad in black leather. They stood back to back when more of the redcoats came. "What are you doing here on Monmouth?"
"I shall explain later lest we be dead," she cut down a handful of men with a fair swipe of her machete. Elbowing another, she knocked another in the nasal cavity and cut at his nape hard enough to decapitate him. They're enemy seemed to swarm at them for quite a while until the novice was able to reach the two assassins. She, too, was happy to see Aveline despite their circumstances. By the end, the two were nearly out of breath. A man clad in red was trying to sneak his way to Connor, aiming to have his head. He swung his axe, but the novice kicked him in the loins and he groaned in pain. She then punched at his nerves to freeze him on the ground. He was in shock now. She took off her glove, seeing that there was no other enemy coming any time soon. Her hand and fingers were together, shapely as a spear, targeting his chest. The vulnerable man was fearful, begging to not meet such an end. The novice almost did not listen if not for her boss grabbing her wrist as her nails were already digging into his skin.
"Tsipporah… enough," he spoke into her ear, "We have killed them all."
"Not all of them," she spiked with eyes holding no endearment to the man's life.
"I said that's enough!" She froze and slowly put her arm down to a neutral pose, sheathing her elbow blades that were soaked in blood.
"A very deadly partner you have there on your arm, Connor."
"…" he pulled the novice to her feet, "Why are you here, Aveline? I have not seen you since our little misadventure in Tortuga."
"An English man that you were traveling with before told me to aid you for he feared for the worst. It seems that he was right—the man that has your face that is."
"My father…?" he furrowed his brows together.
"Yes. He said that your current partner might hold you down to some extent."
"Sounds like Haytham." Tsipporah sucked her teeth, "Um, boss… we should go and check on the men, don't you think?" She comically gestured her arms to where the men escaped to. Where they were, there was silence all around. He sighed and threw the novice over his shoulder walking back, making both women chuckle awkwardly.
"Connor… put me down!" she fussed as her hair hung in her face.
"You're insufferable and unpredictable. This is better than keeping an eye on you." She couldn't fight him; only lift her head halfway to see Aveline's amused face. The other assassin didn't bother to say anything. This was mere entertainment as she was aware of Connor's naïve behavior around women. Only with the opposite sex does one find how childish he truly can be. The novice didn't find this at all laughable. She felt all the blood rush to her head. How long was he going to hold her like this walking down the road?
"Agh! You better not fart," she growled, "God, put me down, Shrek!"He finally put her on the ground again—not as gently either. Talk about strong-armed. She sputtered about how unnecessary that was and got to her feet, dusting off the grass. The French general greeted them, praising them for their excellence in saving the men that remained. He couldn't thank him enough for his efforts. The assassin, as humble as he was, thanked the women who gave their hand in the fight. Both turned away, blushing, but something caught the duo's attention instead. The Commander in Chief was here, checking on the men. He paced with his back turned until he recognized the voices behind him.
"Connor?"
"Oh, it's you," the novice sassed, stepping back to ignore him.
"Charles Lee has betrayed you," Connor started, "He forced retreat in the midst of battle—hoping the loss would take the lives of your men and see you relieved of your command."
"What?!" Washington genuinely sounded surprised and the novice face-palmed at his reaction.
"I am sure he will come and spin a tale—saying he was outnumbered or I was somehow to blame. All lies. I will say it one last time—that man is your enemy and he will not stop until you are dead or dishonored." Lafayette second that since Lee was acting strange earlier this day, but the commander tried to stay 'civil' about it.
"I will investigate these allegations at once." Really? Really? The novice wanted to cry, laugh, get mad—she wasn't sure which one to do. Aveline kept silent, having her doubts suddenly about the Patriots' leader. If a threat was made on his life, then he should do something about it right this moment. Even Connor explained that the time for that has long passed and gritted his teeth. The commander had to disagree. If they were to go out for Lee's blood now, then it would make them no different than their enemies. As if. They were the Brotherhood—Assassins. Nothing is true. Everything is permitted. They weren't bound by any government of the modern world. The young assassin walked off, resolute on taking Lee's life himself if the Patriots would do nothing about it. The two women followed after.
"Enjoy your victory, commander," he said coldly, "It will be the last I deliver you."
…
"There are others objectives I must tend to, Connor, but it was good to see the both of you again… little brothers." Aveline gave a gentle smile as they came up to the entrance of homestead. The novice and her rode the same horse, and stopped near the stables, getting off. Tsipporah snickered at the fact that Aveline was at least ten years older than they were. She authentically felt like another older sister in this timeline. It almost made her feel a sense of euphoria thinking about it. "Is there something the matter?"
"Oh no… just… you kind of remind me of my sister back home."
"Do not fear, mon chéri. I am certain that you will return home once the Templars of this colony die. Connor has yet to fail and that is why the spirits send you—to watch him walk on the right path."
"But…"
"Hmm? Mais quoi?"
"I don't think I know what's right for him anymore."
"Don't you ever say such things, Séphora," she enunciated, "You follow no government and no group of the modern society. You follow what is right for the path of humanity."
"Then… why do you fight, Aveline?" she had to ask. She had never once asked why she was a member of the Assassins even when she had them on another mission after the Massacre. She was basically an older sister for both the youths back in the day. The novice was pretty proud to see a young black woman go out into the world in the name of justice, but what justice? She didn't want to assume.
"I fight against slavery. To liberate those bound by the government against their will. You this is not the life our people wanted to live. They were forced into it, but just as there are Caucasian men seeking our eternal submission, there are also those who urge us to speak out and fight for our freedom. When Connor told me of why he wanted to be an Assassin, I gave him a world view of what he was to expect—you remember, oui?" Tsipporah nodded. "Of course, you are from the future. Therefore, you are aware of the struggles ahead than anyone else here, I gather. Are you listening, petite sœur?"
"Hell yeah, I'm listening. Your voice is still sexy as fuck—holla atcha girl. Voulez-vous aller au lit avec moi ce soi?" At least her mentee was stronger and braver than before. The last sentence had her laughing, but she had to ask pertaining to it.
"So how are you and Connor doing?"
"They made love in the woods!" Angie jumped in, "Oh yeah, they confessed their love and—Agh! Babe!" The novice swung her sheathed blades at her companion, threatening to cut her open. She ran out the blonde as she continued to spew gossip. "It's true! She loved every minute of it! Connor thanked me after!"
"Why do you have to tell people my business!?" she laughed in her fury, "I don't go announcing your business because people already know your record anyway!" The French Assassin raised her brows in shock. Guess her 'little brother' wasn't so innocent after all. Even when she and the novice would play-flirt when he was around, he would just stare and tilt his head. Either he's truly grown up or the blonde had something to do with convincing him to do such an act. She caressed the mare's nose as she watched the girls go back and forth like a running gag. The novice looked pretty determined to spill blood. After much contemplation, she sought to break it up, but then another woman interfered with her presence alone.
"Kateri?" the novice looked up as she straddled Angie, "Are you okay?"
"Where is my cousin?" she whimpered, "I… I have something to say to him."
"Say what?" Angie toppled the other, "You're not gonna kill him are you?"
"No! No… I just need to speak with him. I've wronged him. I do not want to antagonize as my mother did years ago. He is my only cousin…" The observers looked at each other… then back at the native woman. The novice got up and took Kateri's hand.
"Okay, I'll take you to him. He's out in the woods hunting." She took the native woman down to the hunting grounds of homestead. Kateri took a moment to drink in the scenery that she hasn't lived in for some time. She remembered traveling to this place before with her husband when they were young with the sole purpose of finding their close friend. He may have been training then, but she would miss him and her new acquaintance. That was when there was the four of them. Her mind wandered until they were within Connor's reach. His eyes were facing front, watching a hare walk into the trap he's made.
"Connor," the novice whispered.
"Shh…" he kept watching.
"What the hell you think I'm whispering for? Your cousin's here and she want to talk to you."
"What?" his voice reached the hare's ears and it jerked its head up, its eyes alert. It propped up its legs, readying itself to leave the premises. Connor swiftly pulled out an arrow from his quiver and set his bow. Within a half-second, he shot the hare that tried to escape his reach. The young assassin got out of the bush to skin his prize, praying to its corpse. "What is it that you want, Kateri? I understand if you are still angry at me. It is understandable."
"Yes, but what is a misunderstanding is you killing Kanen'tó:kon in cold blood. Achilles tells me more than what I thought I knew of you. All these years we've spent together and I almost threw it all away for I almost became stiff-necked like my mother. For that, I am sorry. I have lost a husband, my children—their father, and you—your closest thing to a brother. You miss him, too, do you not, Tsipporah?"
"Hm?" she choked, "Yeah… he was cool. Teased the shit out of me about liking Connor a whole lot, but he was cool. I wish… I wish I did something else and maybe—"
"I do not want to dwell on the past. He is resting now."
"Yes, he is," Connor nodded, "I shall find the time to visit his grave."
"You would not have the time to now—I gather. Very well. I shall await your visit—"her cousin turned his head to the side, sensing something rush in his general direction. These grounds were rich with activity and whatever animal was coming towards him made no noise, but was sure to tackle him at full force. He ducked, quickly grabbing what had come in contact with him and threw the creature down on his back in front of him, pressing a foot to its heart without a second thought. Once the excitement was cleared, he saw that it was Norris (Maurice, but he changed his name) that was at his mercy. Both women stared for minute. Then at each other. Then they laughed, slapping their knees. Myriam walked up, rolling her eyes at her lover's expense.
"I told you not to sneak up on him, Norris." She stopped as she looked upon her old roommate and held her hand to her chest. So many memories were flooding back. Myriam threw her arms around her old friend's neck. "Oh! Alice, my friend! How are you?" she cried and laughed, but Kateri was more concerned of what this gag was about.
"It is good to see you as well. May I ask what is going on here?"
"Norris here asked me if he—Well, you explain, sweetie." He was still on the ground, so Connor helped him up.
"Yes! Connor, she said yes!" he gave a masculine punch to the assassin's arm and the novice along with the native woman were still confused. "I asked Myriam here to marry me and she said 'yes'." Both women mouthed an "oh" and slowly smiled.
"So I'm guessing that this is part where I jump up and down like a crazy person and congratulate you for agreeing on the last legal form of slavery this world has to offer, right?" they all stared at her blankly. Guess this joke isn't as funny as it is in the 21st century. Too soon for this joke, huh? "Well, congratulations to the happily engaged couple, huh? Huh?" she elbowed Connor comically and he gave a rare smile. "So when's the wedding taking place? What are you going to wear, dear Myriam?"
"Well, if you're that determined to know, then maybe you should help with the preparations. You helped Alice with hers, am I right?" Kateri timidly nodded, going back to those fond memories of her wedding ceremony. The novice scratched her head at how the mood completely whiplashed from an apology to a set wedding engagement. The day was going pretty good so far. Then she had an amusing thought.
"Where's the reception gonna be?"
"At the Inn of course—perfect place for a residential reception," Myriam beamed.
"Hey, good news for Angie—there's gonna be booze at this wedding." The couple laughed and said that they really wanted Alice to attend. Maybe to even bring her riled up mother, too. They gave the trio a nod before leaving the hunting grounds. "This means everyone here I know will be happily married. Even the old man was married. God, I feel so old right now." Kateri looked to between her cousin and the novice.
"So why don't you two get married and have children, too?"
"What?!" they both jolted. Kateri stumbled back from the response. She thought they'd jump at the concept already since they came together and were a couple. Were they not planning on marriage? She giggled a little that they were actually shocked to hear such a sentimental suggestion. She made a devious grin like her mother did when she was up to something. The novice paled as much as possible with Connor. "No… No… Stop smiling like that! Stop smiling like that!"
"You two…"
"There is too much to be done. We must find Charles Lee and—"
"You speak of Charles Lee so obsessively, cousin. You are nearing the age of twenty-four—you are practically ripe for marriage. Do it now before it's too late." The novice wanted to step in, but the native women slapped a hand onto her face before she could say anything. "Ratonhnhaké ton, I will not say it again—if you love this girl, then you will take her hand in marriage. You've been playing dumb for about a decade. I will not stand for it anymore. You always told me to follow my heart, now you must follow yours." He grimaced at her words. It wasn't that simple to do so. Once he had all the Templars killed, Tsipporah and Angie will disappear from this time. Everything will be as it was before they came along; no more will he see the face of his beloved. He couldn't deny wanting much more with her, but that would be a distant dream that might not come true. Unless… His observer didn't take kindly to the look on his face. It was like he was getting an idea that shouldn't even be legal. She knew that look. He would look to side, shade his eyes and that would signal to him either (a) sparing his enemy or (b) doing something way more batshit crazy than "a".
"I could not, Kateri," he honestly said and she squealed, dissatisfied.
"Why not?"
"Yeah, Connor, why not?" the novice was especially mad as if he was saying no about a marriage proposal. It felt more brutal to hear than a dying man's breath. "What, I'm not good enough for you? Is there someone else in the picture—"
"No, Tsipporah. As I told you before: you are already everything to me and more. Only…"
"Only?" she poked him.
"I would not make a good husband. I've not the time. One day, perhaps." The novice and his cousin stared blankly. Then at each other. Then they turned back to Connor… laughing until they rolled on the ground. He narrowed his eyes and waited for them to stop. When some minutes passed, he picked them both off the ground. "Alright, you've had your laugh. Though, I do not see how this is funny at all." In truth, he was glad that his cousin was able to laugh still despite all that has happened. He feared that the war would dangerously churn her heart for the worst. His observer never changed, however. She just grew more brisk with time. They took a second to breathe.
"That is a fucking lie, Connor. You think you'd make a terrible husband? What, you think I'd make the perfect wife? No, really, man—I need you. I know I'll go when all of this ends, but… I would totally marry you." He released the hold he had on both of them and looked to Sipsy in eye, softening. His eyes sparked some sort of hope or sentiment; he wasn't sure what it was. The novice took it as a positive reaction. "Aw… he's getting all emotional because of what I said. That's fine, boss. I'm having a lot of feelings, too." It quickly turned into a steely glare when she started getting too over-dramatic about it and she stiffened up. "Okay… I said a shit-load of emotions. I'm gonna stop and turn back to the manor right now…" and she walked steadfastly out of the forest.
"Ratonhnhaké ton, why not marry her? You seem more at peace with her. You love her very much, do you not?"
"I should say that it is a private matter, but you already know enough. She is very attentive and respects my space, yet… Lately, I have been in need of her presence."
"My husband tells me these things when we were young. You must ask her, lest you hurt her feelings for your inaction. Many girls of our home would throw themselves your way, asking to be your future bride, remember?"
"That was when I had no interest in women."
"My feelings are hurt, cousin," she pouted, "Please. I had my chance of happiness and I am glad of it. Now you must grasp it as well. She is a good woman and you are a good man. Why not consummate?"
"It is as I said, Kateri—it is a private matter, but once I complete my task, she and Emily will return home… and I may never see them again."
"You mean…" she stomped her foot, "Don't give me that, cousin. Tell her—"
"That is all, Kateri. That is all. But perhaps if I do something about it the Brotherhood's relationship with the Templars, maybe this will benefit not only the chances of peace, but…"
"She might stay and marry you! Yay!" she cheered.
"Yes. No! That is not what I…" He face-palmed.
Where the Templars took refuge and where their base laid, they gathered in secret as always. There weren't many of them left for the Assassin that sought to draw their blood until nothing was left of them had cut their numbers. It was of little consequence, but they knew the truth—their existence will never diminish. They still remained a threat to the colonies as long as they drew breath. It was turning to evening with haste to the Grand Master. His closest partner brought about the news of what had happened at Monmouth. So they lost again? No matter. As long as there were those who wished for the world to be as it is, then there is no withdrawing in their numbers—in their principles. Haytham watched out his quarter's window as the sun seemed to touch the horizon. Their fort was near the coast of New York, thus he could see the sea very well. His mind reeled with collective memories of how he spent some time with his son. A knife was buried rather too deep in his heart that his son wanted nothing more to do with him. He ultimately wanted his son to live. He knew that the time would come—should they continue as enemies—that he will have no choice but to kill his own flesh and blood. The very thought pained him and quietly spoke his lover's name to the air.
"Sir?" the raven-haired Templar called out, "Are you disappointed? Make no mistake; I shall remedy my folly of today's events." His leader raised his palm.
"Worry not, Charles. Should the Assassin get in our way again, we shall handle it discreetly. He is trained to do the impossible. As am I. However, there is something we could use as leverage, as it seems."
"What would that be, sir?"
"His observer—The Eyes of the First Civilization. Out of the two that assist him, one closely follows and ironically has a very sentimental partnership with the Assassin. Not only that, but I have made a close observation that they are most likely under a strange punishment from Those Who Came Before."
"Do tell, Mr. Kenway," Lee fancied a sinister grin, heeding Haytham's every word. He explained how they seem to share the same instance of pain and how they appear to stay shoulder to shoulder in dire situations; making sure that they do not stray from each other. The relationship between the Brotherhood and the Civilization are remedial for the chance of humanity keeping to their ways in independence. The Eyes have no need in piggy-backing those she watches unless… Of course. He's seen this before. Such impudence to their factions made them no more worthy to represent them. They could use her now. Apparently, her powers were not affected. Her hair had taken the form of how a fully evolved Eyes, but has yet to unlock all of her abilities due to her loyalty… to Connor.
"What do you propose we do, Mr. Kenway?" Lee stroked his beard.
"Create a window, of course."
That... can't be good at all. Looks like Norris & Myriam are gonna get married and Alice is gonna come back. Looks like she wants to get her cousin and her friend into marriage, too. Um... sort of impossible to do when you have a dangerous profession. It is a big commitment, but hey, even the President got a wife and kids. Gotta have an heir to the Brotherhood throne, or in a fangirl sense: have your OC make babies with the sexiest beast in all of the 18th century! XD
*ahem* I mean, sure. He needs descendants, but... won't the observers need to go home soon? So what's gonna happen? Oh, well. You'll see. Just a heads up though-there are a total of thirty chapters. Almost there. Plus, there is gonna be the release of the Tyranny of George Washington and seeing how Connor looks in that... *inhales deeply*
I'M GONNA MAKE A SEQUEL! :'D
I heard that the game isn't too long since it's a downloadable, so... yeah. See you in the next chapter.