"Is he breathing?"

"Of course he is, look, he's moving."

"His hand looks in bad shape. His dog doesn't look much better either."

"Well I'm not going anywhere near it. You wake him up."

Nathan stirred before one of the rebels roused him, relieved he didn't have to go much closer to the boy as Astra guarded him. She wouldn't attack them, recognising them as friends, but they didn't want to risk it.

"What- What happened?" Nathan asked, eyes blurry as he recognised the forest he fell asleep in.

"Take it easy, just sit-" they started as Nathan tried to stand but as he put pressure on his hand he cried out and crumpled on his side. Astra whined and poked his face with her nose as he grabbed his wrist, his face contorted in pain. As he recalled the events of the night before, he cursed himself for setting aside his Assassin uniform for his militia clothes. He could have at least taken the wrist blades.

"We're gonna take you back to Gerard's. His family's patching up all the wounded and it should serve as a base for a while." One said as he knelt forward, helping Nathan to his feet all the while wary of Astra.

"How many were hurt?" He asked in a strained voice as the pain began to subside.

"About a dozen. They're the ones that lived long enough to be found. About twenty were killed. Not all of them were rebels, some were just patrons of the bar." The other said as they began to move.

"Oh, God." Nathan bowed his head.

"We got a few ourselves." The first rebel said. "There's nine redcoats that we piled up. Ours will get proper burials."

"Was there a German soldier?"

"German?" They frowned at Nathan's comment.

"You know, a hessian soldier."

"I know of them, lad, we've heard they're to be hired by the British. None should be in America now though."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. It could have been the dark light you know."

"Or you were seeing things."

Despite the humoured response, Nathan didn't smile. He'd been seeing too much recently.

"We're going to check the forest for more survivors. Ask one of the fellas out there for the way to Gerard's. He'll fix you up." He said, pointing out of the forest and to the scorched grass before the blackened inn where people milled out, either questioning the event or picking up the pieces.

Nathan thanked them as they ventured deeper into the forest, now lit by the morning sun. After enquiring, he made his way through Concord until he found the house of 'Remus'. He smirked as he saw the image of a wolf sketched simply and placed near the gate. It made it easy to find him.

Gerard's mother welcomed him in, tutting as she recognised another injury.

"Oh how many of you will arrive at my door today," she said in a thick Scottish accent, her pain barely concealed by her attempt to make a joke.

"How is Gerard?" Nathan asked as he stepped inside.

"Better than most of the others. Had a sword to his side. It will heal, thank God." She sighed, distracted by the well-being of her son before she recognised the wolf, unsure whether to enter the house or not. "Ah, so this is the infamous Astra. You must be Nathan then."

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded respectively. "Can she come in? She was hurt too."

"Of course, this makeshift hospital will take care of all." She ushered him into the living room where everything had been pushed to the side to make room for the injured rebels. Nathan felt sick to his stomach. Some had blood red sheets covering them, barely conscious as they lost a terrible amount of blood. Others writhed in pain with charred faces, unable to see.

"We don't know how many will get through the day." She said quietly to him. "You were lucky to just hurt your wrist. Let's take a look at it."

His eyes drifted back to the wounded, wondering if he was watching these men's last hours. The sudden pain in his wrist brought him back.

"It's a bad sprain but not quite a break." She diagnosed. "I'll get you a sling."

She soon returned to bind the cotton sling around his neck before kneeling down to check the beast. Her fearlessness surprised him as she lifted Astra's leg, nodding as the wolf whined in pain.

"I'll need to wash this and dress it," she tugged off the makeshift bandage Nathan had made the night before, covered with dried blood. "I grew up in Scotland," she explained, noticing his expression. "Wolves and beasts of all sorts were a common sight. It's not the closest I've ever been to one."

Nathan smiled at the comment as she left, the smile then dwindled. The roaring soldier flashed in front of him and as the boy questioned reality, he was sure Astra wasn't the only beast he had been close to either.


April 18, 1775, Concord, Massachusetts

The months passed on and those that healed, mourned the ones that didn't. The attack depleted their support at first but as news spread, the anger of the people grew and soon so did their numbers. Before a new base was set up, Gerard's house served well enough with a strict Scottish mother if anyone stepped out of line. Astra wasn't the only thing the new recruits feared.

One night, as the conversation dwindled and the fire faded to embers, those sat around the table began to slip off to sleep. When a furious knock at the door roused them, some fell from their seats in shock. Gerard and Nathan hurried to the door, pistols on their belts just in case.

Two figures met them, a man Nathan didn't recognise and one he did.

"Let everyone know that the Regulars march for Lexington and Concord." The man said as Connor nodded to Nathan.

As Nathan and Gerard nodded their reply, they rushed back inside, hollering "The British are coming!" to their comrades. The bleary eyed rebels shook sleep from their heads as they set about gathering weapons and ammunition.

"Marcus, Peter," Gerard addressed two of the rebels that shouldered their bayonets. "Spread the word down the street. Make sure everyone is ready."

The two rushed from the house and their voices could be heard, calling out to anyone within hearing range.

Nathan threw on his jacket and snatched his hat, joining the others in their militia uniform. He took a deep breath. This would start at sunrise.


April 19, 1775, Lexington, Massachusetts

The militia stood in line, shifting their weight from one foot to another in apprehension. Every sound and every movement made their stomachs turn, expecting the swarm of red to appear at any moment.

John Parker, the commander of the rebel army threw orders about, breaking off to cough violently between every sentence. The militia were uneasy. They weren't used to battle as it was but even less used to a leader that wasn't one of them.

As the British troop did appear, the men swallowed, tightening their grip around their weapons. Nathan spotted Connor from the corner of his eye but didn't acknowledge him. This wasn't the time for greetings.

"Stand your ground, men!" Parker bellowed. "Don't fire unless fired upon! But if they mean to have a war, let it begin here!"

The British general rode forward just ahead of the foot soldiers and stared down at the rebels from the hill they were upon.

"Disperse, you damned rebels! Lay down your arms and disperse!" Pitcairn called out.

The surrender wasn't exactly orthodox but many rebels scattered, abandoning their positions in fear as the redcoats began to fire. With a reassuring glance to Gerard, the militia held firm.

"What the deuce are you doing?! Hold your positions! Cravens! Traitors!" Parker roared as the defence fell.

Then, Pitcairn led the descent and the colour red flooded the area.

"Go, go!" Gerard yelled and their band of men fled, joining the others as they raced for Concord.

"They're taking prisoners! Run!" One man yelled and as Nathan risked a glance over his shoulder, he saw a fallen man with two soldiers over him, their commands indistinguishable as they pointed their bayonets at him. Nathan faltered until Gerard pulled on his arm.

"There's nothing you can do, you'll just get caught like him. We have to go!"

They thundered into concord, clumsily rushing over the river, the crowd forming a bottle-neck as they rumbled along the bridge. On the other side, they crouched into defence positions, hearts racing as they awaited the arrival of the British. Nathan controlled his breathing, the heavy breathing subsiding as he focused on the eventual target across the river. Astra had remained at the house where Nathan had decided was the best place for her. She was a tough beast and a ruthless fighter, but would be useless in long range combat.

"Astra's going to be fine, Romulus," Gerard said with a smile, knowing his expressions. "We're the sons of wolves remember?"

"That we are, Remus," he grinned as the redcoats marched into view.

Connor had taken command, riding to and from each defensive position and ordering them to fire at the right moment. The militia waited for the call and pulled the trigger, sending each soldier to the ground before they had the chance to aim. It became routine, waiting, firing, reloading. Until a group of redcoats moved further, stepping over the bodies of their comrades as they dropped to their knees, hurriedly preparing to fire. They raised their bayonets. The militia glanced one to another and to Connor who was occupied by the group on the other side of the bridge. Two more seconds and the British would attack.

"Fire!" Nathan roared and the men did so, the crackle of gunfire rippling through the air as with small sprays of blood, the redcoats fell.

Nathan looked up to Connor who had rushed back to their side. His face was stern, angry that Nathan had taken command, giving the order instead of him.

But before Connor could say anything, a voice called out.

"Fall back! Fall back!" Pitcairn waved for his troops to withdraw as the rebels watched them flee.

"We did it! They're turning tail!" One gleeful rebel announced.

Connor turned and left the rebels without saying a word.

"You know him?" Gerard asked as the men began to celebrate.

It suddenly hit Nathan how long it had been since he had seen Connor and they were barely in a situation to catch up. Often, they missed each other at Achilles as neither boys saw the old man much anymore. It seemed it was just this nearing war that was bringing them together. And even that was turning him into a young man Nathan didn't recognise.

"Not anymore." He replied