Color The Sky

by Mystic Blade

Connor's life at Davenport homestead brings a sense of family after leaving Kanathséton as he makes new friendships with the residents and finds himself slowly assimilating into one large family. He partakes in a part of life that isn't tied to the assassins while one young resident tackles the new wild frontier to carve a dream for herself as they cultivate their new community.

60. Valley Forge

Music Inspiration: Lorne Balfe- "Assassin's Creed III Theme" (because it's about time, haha)

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Valley Forge

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11 January 1778

'Winter approaches. The air is still and sharp with grim expectation. The others sense it too, and go about their work with uncommon urgency. I would like to help them, but more pressing matters now demand my attention. The Templars have targeted George Washington directly—and will not rest until he is dead. I had hoped to shield him from this knowledge, but Thomas Hickey ended any hope I had of staying silent. And so I have resolved to share everything I know—of the Templars and their plots—of who I really am. Achilles finds fault in this, and we argue every day. But there is simply too much now at stake to maintain restraint-'

"Are you sure that's the right decision?" Caroline interrupted with a curious tone, peering over his left shoulder while he wrote in his personal journal. The brown leatherback hardcover was his newest fancy since Ratonhnhaké:ton had begun detailing his life after she egged him to write letters to her many years ago. His wife had kept every letter in a jewelry box (minus any jewelry until their marriage) and correlating them to his old journals helped to dive into the past. Remembering his worries, fears, and triumphs was an interesting experience but he enjoyed reading his old letters to his wife the most. She had been eager for one whenever he left Davenport in his youth and although he didn't think much of it then, they had become timeless now. Who knew the wary native boy would end up marrying the cheerful colonial girl? He created a journal for every year that passed since 1772, which helped increase his literary grasp on English, and she enjoyed seeing him relax with his pensive reflections.

Placing his quill pen back in its inkstand, he halted his narrative and turned around in his chair to meet his amused wife. Caroline was dressed in her sleeping white tunic and breeches after throwing her blue nightgown into the weekly wash. The night brought a calm atmosphere at home and she enjoyed walking around in her sleeping garments rather than her daily attire. Her husband, on the other hand, stayed with his regular clothing until bedtime in case somebody came knocking at the door. The change from living with her parents to their shared home had finished its transition and although there were days she missed them, they were right around the corner. She welcomed the nightly sight of watching her husband journal while she prepared tomorrow's clothing with the coal iron. He would be checking in on Achilles while she would help Elizabeth shovel out the snow from the school for Amelia.

Her fingers grasped the raven hair at the nape of his neck to run her fingers through the growing tresses. He smiled warmly to her gentle affection, relaxing against her grip, and leaned back against the chair to remind her, "Caroline, you were furious that I lied to you."

"Not furious, disappointed" she corrected with a sly smile to the rocky year they shared and never wanted to relive it. Last year had been her happiest one from all their years together and he didn't hesitate to agree. Despite the secrecy of his other life, there was a reason behind it. He was a man that held honesty and honor in high standing which was why she always believed him. She leaned forward to kiss his right temple with a fond smile and added in, "I understand why you did it though."

"You gave me heart palpitations for three months" he sighed miserably to walking on eggshells that summer and lamenting that his friendship with her was terribly strained. He never wanted to have her heartbroken or resentful and he would crawl on all fours for forgiveness like a pitiful pet. Their marriage added another layer of care and he would never jeopardize it.

Caroline chuckled to his disappointed frown, releasing his soft hair to brush her thumb across his freckled cheek. Leaning against the desk with her backside, she faced him with a cheeky smile, "We courted within two months of that revelation."

Ratonhnhaké:ton waved his left hand to dismiss her nonchalance over the horrible tension that was only relieved by reigniting their romance. Caroline slapped it away playfully with a laugh but she had her own share of heartbreak as well. It wasn't easy to be apart from him after years of camaraderie and love. He brought laughter from her end that echoed through the empty house when he stated flatly, "I lived in uncertain suspicion whether that was real for the first week."

"I'm quite real" she assured with a fond wink and closed the distance between them to kiss him on the lips. Her husband needed a boost or two of gumption occasionally. Her hands swept over his shoulders to pull him into an embrace and he clutched her close. Their new married life brought him comfort like never before by having his number one supporter within reach. He missed the short downhill trek to her home and ascending the small hill but sharing a home was a dream come true. She plopped down on his lap to rest her head against his right shoulder, brushing her nose against the edge of his ear, and smiled, "Just be careful and don't piss off Achilles again."

"That's a weekly occurrence now" he muttered flatly to the unfortunate downside of his closest neighbor. His judgment on handling the Templar threat varied greatly from his mentor which led the two to disagreement. He was not comfortable keeping the truth from her family and now, the Templars were plotting against the leader of the Patriots. Was he supposed to stay silent and out of the way? Standing still was not his way and if he could save lives from harm, he would act. Pouting with disapproval, he reminded her of the week following their engagement, "He wasn't exactly overjoyed to me revealing the truth to your family."

"I understand his viewpoint because you have to immensely trust those that are given this secret" Caroline advised because her husband was more open to revealing their secret order while she was cautious with it. The truth could backfire if the wrong person learned of it and lead to another purge of the Assassins. She refused to risk her friends and family on a hunch so treading carefully with who to trust was pivotal for survival. Ratonhnhaké:ton was kind, seeing the best in everyone, but an ally could easily become an enemy with the tide of war. She didn't want him to fall prey to manipulators and met his troubled gaze to advise carefully, "You have to go into this with a cool head."

"I am as calm as a still lake in fall" he assured to alleviate her concerns in making a wrong judgment, hugging his wife. Caroline shot him a questioning glance but she adored him too much to let him get into trouble. Like Alice, he had soft expressive brown eyes that easily melted her into sympathy.

She tapped his nose affectionately for trying to dodge her words and her gaze swept downwards to the floor. Leaning against him, she whispered against his cheek to tease gently, "Then why is your foot tapping on the floor?"

The quiet taps ceased immediately and he shifted his weight in the chair while holding onto her waist. She kept a straight face despite laughing on the inside while her spouse avoided eye contact, focusing on her lap to offer weakly, "Uh. . . force of habit?"

Living at home with her meant there was no escape for him when it came to their work. She knew him like no other and although there were times he would be flustered, like that very moment, he valued her concern. His life was in the right hands and she was his source for advice for everyday life and their professional work. Her left eyebrow quirked in question and he sighed softly under his breath to promise, "It will be fine, Caroline."

"Keep a cool head, do not act rashly" she advised carefully to avoid unwelcome scenarios that could have been prevented. He was the most important person in her life and she would throw him off a ledge to earn a fracture if it meant saving his life from an enemy. They could not behave erratically simply because the enemy was plotting at a faster rate. They had to fight smarter under the veil of shadows to stay anonymous and she stated matter-of-factly, "Think about every step before you act."

That was easier said than done.

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15 January 1778

Ratonhnhaké:ton slammed the door of the manor in his abrupt leave from the place, venting his frustration on the inanimate object. He had stopped by to shovel snow away from the walkways to prevent the heavy snowfall from blocking the old man's exits. With him now gone, Achilles had the entire empty place to himself so he treaded carefully on his older bones. The two could share hours of conversation about any subject but bringing the work of the Assassins into it led the two to butt heads like stubborn rams. While Achilles preferred to work in the shadows, Ratonhnhaké:ton preferred a proactive role in the midst of battle.

This led the two to another verbal brawl that led the young assassin to abandon the discussion. He was tired of letting the Templars gain the upper hand and doing nothing about it. The previous year had been a welcome reprieve that allowed him to marry and expand the town but his enemies were now on the move. He could not sit still under that dark cloud approaching and with that in mind, he decided to venture to Valley Forge.

During his explorations in the frontier, Clipper had gathered information about rising Templar activity in the area. With George Washington present among the troops there, Ratonhnhaké:ton assumed they were planning to turn the tide of the war in the favor of the Loyalists. Winter was brutal that year and exposed to the relentless elements, the Patriots would likely lose numbers. He aimed to change those odds but Achilles was vehemently against it. He didn't want the progress of rebuilding the order to be jeopardized by the same man that started that road. Hobbling behind him, Achilles stepped onto the icy doorstep and pleaded with him, "Don't do this, Connor!

Ratonhnhaké:ton paused out of respect for his mentor but his annoyance took hold, turning around to pin him with a stern glare. The old man had dissuaded him from action earlier that month with the reasoning of his new marriage. He loved his wife but he would not allow his enemies to grow in power that would risk their lives. So far, no appropriate plan of action had been achieved on their end and he snapped, "Then what would you propose we do? Sit and watch while the Templars take control? We are sworn to stop them. Or have you forgotten?"

Achilles thinned his lips to the subtle jab of being passive and reminded him grimly, "Assassins are meant to be quiet. Precise. We do not go announcing conspiracies from the rooftops to all who pass by."

His student valued honesty but that same morality could easily get him and his loved ones killed by divulging the truth. Despite their order had existed for centuries, he didn't want to see a second purge in the colonies because he decided to play nice with the Patriots. He abided to his confession with Caroline, given their tight bond, and her family but the soldiers in the war were a very different matter. Who would be next, sympathetic Templars? Ratonhnhaké:ton couldn't trust anyone who simply lent their ear but the young man refused to hear anymore. Pointing at the older man, he accused coldly to his lack of initiative, "Who are you to lecture anyone? You locked yourself away in this crumbling heap and gave up on the Brotherhood entirely."

For Ratonhnhaké:ton, he felt burdened in carrying the entire order on his shoulders instead of learning from his old mentor. As a youth, he had high regard for the man but the chaos that erupted with colonial warfare gradually disappointed him from the lack of support. Faulkner was more supportive of his leadership! Maybe that was why he always felt more at home on the Aquila than the manor. There was mutual respect from Faulkner and they exchanged ideas together. His new home was also a paradise to him now and he divulged bitterly, "Since the day I arrived, you've done nothing but discourage me. On the rare occasions you've chosen to help, you've done so little, you may as well have done nothing at all!"

Achilles was insulted by his boldness because he would have been maimed or dead without his intervention. His entire home was at the young man's disposal and he complained about being on his own. The hidden blade he wore, the robes, and even the old Aquila had been given to him to help him on his path. Without it, he would likely still be at an apprentice level! This was how his help had been repaid? Had he not taught his hot-headed student any better? Incensed and hurt by his words, he exclaimed with insult, "How dare you!"

Ratonhnhaké:ton was on a tangent to purge his frustration with his mentor and shot back heatedly, "Then tell me. On whose watch did the brotherhood falter? Whose inaction allowed the Templar Order to grow so large that it now controls an entire nation!"

He had tried his best to guide the young man to avoid a repeat of history. Had he failed in keeping his new student with a sharp mind? Remembering the eradication of his colleagues by one of his own, caution was always in his mind with Ratonhnhaké:ton. He didn't want to add another soul lost in the war against the Templars. Achilles narrowed his eyes at his mentee, leaning on his cane for support, and lectured without restraint, "If I sought to dissuade you, it was because you knew nothing! If I was reluctant to contribute, it was because you were naive. A thousand times you would have died and taken God knows how many with you. The crew of the Aquila, the other Assassins, this town, even your wife."

The young man treaded on a very fine line with danger and it was clear by the scowl on his face that his words stung. He would not let him carry on with his inaccurate thinking that his actions would not have consequences. After his folly with spilling tea crates into Boston's harbor instead of killing a Templar, Achilles assumed he was on the path to learning wisely. Instead, he was walking straight into a line of fire and he refused to take part in it. He was not one to play with human lives and he stated coldly, "Let me tell you something, Connor. Life is not a fairy tale and there are no happy endings."

Ratonhnhaké:ton grit his teeth to the grim words of advice but he refused to believe in such. He would not quit in making the world a better place nor would he risk innocent casualties. Every generation learned from their predecessors but he would not sit idly by while the enemy moved towards their goal. Furrowing his brow, he decided to forge his own road and replied curtly, "No. Not when men like you are left in charge."

A sharp whistle cut between their tense exchange and Ratonhnhaké:ton turned around to see the form of his wife on their porch. Had their argument been so loud that it echoed down the road? The redhead waved to them as she bundled herself up with a warm fur throw but he knew it was her breakfast call. He was close to commissioning Big Dave for a metal triangle for her to beckon him home for humor's sake. He had no more words left for his old mentor and turned away without another glance back. His shoulders tensed a moment later, not against the cold but when Achilles called out in a final warning, "In your haste to save the world, boy - take care you don't destroy it!"

He left the manor with frustration and disappointment in Achilles' choice to remain in the dark as an observer. How could they hope to save the New World by simply watching? Did people watch a fire burn and let the innocent perish or take action by saving the victims? He would be no better than his enemy if he let the world burn and chose to be better. The chill of winter did nothing to cool his head and he treaded more snow across the road during his walk home. By the time he reached the porch, he had flecks of snow up to his knees from kicking it and treaded up the stairs. Caroline would not be fond of him treading muddy snow inside but he entered their home, locking the door behind him to bathe in its comforting warmth.

His wife was already finished with setting breakfast on the table, her brown skirt fluttering about. She had slid into her role of a wife far too easily and he didn't miss noticing that she would don more dresses when they spent their day at home. He removed his damp boots to let the snow thaw and dry over a linen rag to let it absorb the moisture rather than the hardwood floor.

Caroline whistled a tune while she filled their tin cups with fresh wintergreen tea. The plant was resilient against winter and she liked the bright red winterberries that added a dash of color around their homestead. Her happy whistling came to an abrupt stop when her husband informed her casually, "I'm heading out to Valley Forge."

Was that the ruckus she could faintly hear against the morning wind? Did her husband decide to run off on a mission that Achilles didn't agree with? Ratonhnhaké:ton winced under the firm stare and darkened blue eyes of his wife when she crossed her arms. Uh-oh. Her voice was terse and clipped when she unleashed a one-man act to portray her sentiment, "Mornin' Caroline, my day is good. How's by you?"

Placing a hand on her chest, she pretended to be shocked and claimed, "Oh, you're heading out alone without my input, are you? I see my value in this family has gone down the outhouse shoot."

Ratonhnhaké:ton hung his head in shame to revealing his intentions because Caroline was part of his life. They were meant to tackle decisions together and this was the first to surface. Caroline refrained from grabbing the wooden spoons that lay on the table and settled on a disappointed glare. Did he think she would nod happily while he skipped off into danger alone? Uncrossing her arms, she placed them on her hips to demand, "Really, Connor? Did you forget we're married?"

He groaned miserably at hearing his English name and knew he was in trouble immediately. Just like he had taken her middle name to rein her boldness, she used his given one to call his attention. Angering his wife was not part of the plan, slumping his shoulders as he apologized sheepishly, "Sorry."

"Sit, let us eat and have a nice chat" she offered to begin breakfast before it became cold and lost its flavor. Her hens had laid a fresh batch of eggs so she'd happily scrambled them to serve alongside fresh ham she bought from the Millers. She had whipped up a hearty breakfast to begin their day, given the heavy snowfall from last night, and never expected to hear news that he would be leaving. There were hints of impulsiveness still present in her spouse but it came from a place to do good. She wanted him to have a better and logical approach to dangerous missions, especially now that they were married. Losing him early was not in their vows and she pointed to his seat at the head of the table to order, "This is nonnegotiable, mister."

He grabbed the back of the chair to pull it out, sitting down cautiously with a keen eye aimed at her. Caroline's left eyebrow arched as she watched his movement because they were going to talk this out. As his girlfriend, she could offer advice and let him make his own decision but as a married couple, her voice would take part in a mutual decision. His actions affected both and she tried not to smile when he agreed dejectedly, "Yes, ma'am."

She sat down on his left side to enjoy the cascading snow from the window while they ate. Respect was mandated in their marriage, even if it led to disagreements. They had yet to argue with one another, but both had promised no yelling would be involved. It was best to cool off and regroup to tackle a problem. He noticed slices of ham stacked neatly on his plate, tilting his head to the left in curiosity, and asked, "Did you just serve me bargaining ham?"

"No, that was the tea" she smiled mischievously because she figured her husband would need it after hearing the noise earlier. She had not expected for the subject to affect their household but such was the life of an assassin. Unlike the mentor-mentee relationship between her husband and Achilles, she would not let him become incensed or let the same occur with her.

Her lips finally broke into a smile when his attention briefly noticed the tea before returning to his plate and he stated, "Oh. . . I prefer the ham."

"We're here to talk about you and Achilles, not your love of ham" she joked gently to his favorite foods and she tried to accommodate them into their daily meals. He would bake her corn cakes in return when chores were light and he promised to bring her maple sap once spring arrived. By his recent news, that might be put on hold. Poking her fork into her own slice, she bit off a piece of the crispy end and informed him, "Though I will take note for future reference in our meals."

He squeezed her free hand fondly for her light humor and doted on her kindness, "I am very fortunate to have you."

If she were a weaker woman, she would have flung the plate at his head upon his declaration to leave. Frankly, he would have deserved it. His secret life meant his wife had to bear the unfavorable side of watching him leave for missions but Caroline was not the type to sit idly by. Like himself, she was active in making change and she would more than likely desire to join him. The frigid temperatures didn't make him comfortable in having her bear the full strength of winter. Becoming ill during their first year of marriage would not bode well and he was struck with guilt for leaving their home within a month of their wedding vows.

"Eat your breakfast" she instructed him with a fond smile when she caught him tapping the table with his left hand. His right hand that held the fork kept it lodged in the ham but he didn't raise the slice. He was pensive about the previous conversation with Achilles and she paused her meal, reaching over to grasp his right wrist. The tapping spell ceased and she met his ruminating gaze to inquire gingerly, "What's bothering you, my wolf?"

He could never keep anything from her, not when she offered him endless support. She was his voice of reason just as he strengthened her resolve to make an efficient team. Leaving their home was not a desire but a need to continue the road for change. Was he truly foolish for believing he could make a difference when others told him otherwise? Caroline had never been on that wagon and he smiled faintly to confess, "Achilles wants to keep the Assassins in the shadows to merely observe and silently play a hand."

Picking up his slice of ham, he bit into it before his meal grew cold. He wouldn't let her hard work go to waste from his hesitation. Caroline listened intently to his concerns, quietly eating her meal, while he picked off pieces to chew them quickly. She found his haste adorable because the chores wouldn't go anywhere and leaving on a trip was best done in the early morning. Hiding her mirth with a sip of tea, he managed to breathe through his ravenous bites to explain, "I do not believe this is the wisest choice, given the raging conflict. If I could tell Washington the truth about this war, the Templars, even myself- maybe that can give them an advantage."

"It could also place them in great danger" she pointed out to the downside of exposing their order to active soldiers. There was appeal in gaining allies but it could also backfire if they did not hold the same allegiance to the cause. Their priority was independence as a new nation while the Assassins sought freedom; both could be opportunities to each party but war had a tendency to change a previous ally to an enemy. The men in the war were already risking their lives for their cause while hers ran differently, finding her own road filled with caution. She didn't want to risk his life needlessly and deliberated further when spotting his frown, "You live with a constant target on your head, it's not an easy thing to live with. I am willing to accept that and protect you as best I can but what about others not of our Order? We cannot place them in danger."

In his view, the Templars wouldn't stop until they killed Washington and replaced him with Lee. That would be a devastating blow to their order and the Patriots, who would be unaware of the betrayal, and he disagreed, "They already want to kill Washington, how much more damage can they do?"

"Kill and tarnish his reputation" she answered easily because destroying one's credibility and social standing could cripple one's sway in society. Neither she nor Ratonhnhaké:ton had a formal education but she knew enough of colonial society to determine what stamped one as an outsider. She tapped the side of her fork against the plate in thought before telling him of her opinion on the plan, "I agree that Washington could know about the secret manipulation of this war without naming our groups but revealing everything is not ideal. Despite I agree with you, Achilles has a point in keeping our Order secret to avoid pulling in innocent people into the line of fire. At the same time, knowing who we can truly trust. We cannot be reckless to achieve our goals-"

"I'm not-" he interjected swiftly to stop her thinking that he would be shouting the truth for all to hear. Did everyone think shouting from a rooftop was his best idea for spreading news? Even a town crier used a small box crate as a podium.

His wife, however, was quick to raise an index finger in warning and responded, "I'm still talking, Connor."

"Sorry" he apologized before he stuck his hand in a figurative beehive and angered the queen bee.

"We can inform him of a secret group you've discovered that is playing both sides of this war and is targeting him" she suggested evenly to offer a different perspective on approaching the problem. They didn't have to purge the entire truth for morality's sake because the topic was complex. Risking the lives of their loved ones and friends was not on the table for her for the benefit of gaining potential allies against the Templars. She sympathized with his viewpoint and reasoned with a compromise for both perspectives, "Leave him out of our Order's business but tell him that you will assist in ending the threat. Their goals impede his and yours, which is to leave your village out of this mess and protect as many civilians as you can. He does not need to know about of our Order or about us because the more we pull people into it, the higher our risk of exposure to the Templars."

Waving her fork between themselves, she emphasized the cost of making an error, "We must protect our town, your village, and our brethren. I don't want them caught in the crossfire."

He stayed silent to absorb her judgment because unlike Achilles, he could not bring himself to raise his voice at her. She laid out her justification respectfully without a hitch in emotion which impressed him. When had his wife become diplomatic? He did agree with protecting their loved ones from harm but chances were also meant to be taken for victories. Her plan was a balance between his and Achilles as she sought to lessen the potential damage from both extremes. Dropping her fork onto the plate, her right hand reached over to grasp his wrist and Caroline asked, "Is that more suitable for all groups involved?"

"Yes, when you mention it in that manner" he agreed with reluctance to her crafty planning but two minds were better than one. At least, theirs. Just as they had designed their homestead, they managed to make a decent plan on dealing with the Templar meddling. She was a much better colleague to bounce ideas from and made a note to stop jumping into problems headfirst without her input. His days as a bachelor were gone and he had to take her into consideration, just as she did with him. Otherwise, he was risking the trust in their marriage. He squeezed her smaller hand, raising it to kiss the back, and proposed softly, "I still wish to depart for Valley Forge. That is, if it means I won't return to find my belongings strewn all over the lawn."

"No, let's go" she chuckled with amusement because ruining his clothes would be a pain to replace. Her plan for rebellion would be serving him his least favorite foods or hiding his gear. The couple continued eating their breakfast but she blushed softly to his quiet sidelong gaze aimed at her. She could never bring herself to argue on a problem that could be solved and their first and only fight left her feeling miserable. A marriage would eventually have its bumps along the road but she opted for little ones with the least emotional fallout.

She loved her husband dearly and would do her best to stay by his side. On his own, he had nobody to watch his back and she refused to stay behind. Despite the brutal winter, she was ready to tackle her old adventuring days and grinned with enthusiasm, "It's about time I join another of your frontier adventures. My joints were about to get rusty from married life."

"We've only been here for a month" he pointed out with a modest smile to their fresh marriage but after years of familiarity, it was another layer of trust. They had lived on the Aquila for weeks and despite sharing different quarters, it gave them a glimpse of the future. Of course, sharing the same room and a bed now was ten times better in his opinion. He didn't mean to cut their time short in their new home and apologized earnestly, "I'm sorry for taking you away from our home so quickly."

"Home is where you are" she stated matter-of-factly, whether it was on the road, their homestead, or the Aquila. Their roots would be set in their true home but her heart was always with him. After traveling with him along the coast to new lands and their line of work, she was accustomed to a nomadic lifestyle. The important thing was returning to their homestead for peace and safety. She picked up her tin cup to sip her tea and chuckled mischievously with bright eyes, "It's time for 'Mr. and Mrs. Burnett's Assassin Adventures'!"

"You make it sound glamorous" he chuckled softly, allowing an amused smile to cross his lips to her excitement. She was always a breath of fresh air with endless optimism and treasured that she agreed with his travels. He could only hope that would continue if they were lucky to have children.

"I have to, otherwise, it's dreary" she laughed merrily to keep his hope for a better world burning rather than risk burning it out. He carried a kind heart for everyone, even if others told him otherwise, and she would help him on his journey. It would not be an easy one and heartbreak was likely but she refused to have his torch for hope vanquished.

Ratonhnhaké:ton appreciated her endless support on his missions and he felt safer with her at his side. His priority would be keeping her safe when traveling and winter would not make the roads easy to traverse. That, and sleeping comfortably in the wilderness. Their home was a blessing compared to facing the elements and he reminded carefully, "We will be shrouded in the full strength of winter."

Her blue eyes gleamed with mirth, poking into a portion of scrambled eggs to bite into the fluffy softness, and she voiced slyly, "Having a fine man such as yourself to look at helps dramatically."

"Caroline. . . thank you" he replied kindly for her unyielding resolve to stay beside him, enjoying her innocent charm. He glanced down briefly at his wedding ring, proud to wear an item that represented their bond. It would never leave his hand unless he was sleeping, bathing, or cooking. His wife pretended to wave daintily for dramatic effect and he grinned at her playfulness. They weren't teenagers anymore but she carried a youthful spark that shined the dented and dulled edges of his heart. He didn't know where he would be without her but it would be a lonelier world, complimenting her, "For everything. You keep me grounded better than my own mind."

"Always, my love" she promised sweetly with a fond wink before biting into another slice of ham. Tomorrow would require a quick but filling breakfast for them to start early on their journey to Pennsylvania. She had never been that far west but life alongside her husband had taken her to numerous new places. It was a rare gift for a woman of her age but apart from the sightseeing, her objective was to keep him safe. Sparing a glance at the falling snow outside their window, she stated resolutely, "I took a vow to protect you and I will see it to the end."

Her gaze broke away from the winter wonderland when he leaned over to kiss her on the right cheek. Laughter echoed through their home to fill it with warmth and she returned a fond peck to his lips, smiling at the sweet taste of the tea on his lips. He sat back down in his chair to sigh at having to create a checklist for the trip and counted off, "We need to prepare our travel packs. Map out a route. I also need to cut my hair."

"Aw, but it grew so much" she pouted humorously to change his mind after watching it grow past his shoulders. Her fingers enjoyed running through it at night when it was loose and she had hoped he would keep the new look. His longer sleek hair complemented his sharp features and handsome cheekbone structure, finding her husband more exotic. Ratonhnhaké:ton chuckled softly to her crestfallen expression, especially when her fingers absentmindedly pulled at the end of her own braid, and she dissuaded, "I much prefer you with longer hair."

"It was more symbolic towards our peacetime" he explained gently but appreciated her compliment on his appearance. Although he kept his hair tied to keep it away from his face, he still had a personal mission to complete before inner peace could be declared. One day, he hoped to let it grow out once his plight was over in removing the Templar Order from the colonies. He had dreams to fulfill once the war was over and they included raising a family in his home. With a solemn voice, he stated softly, "All good things come to an end."

"It'll be our first trip away from home but mother can come and check on it" she lamented to leaving her beautiful homestead before their first year was over. They had made memories though which she could draw happiness from at night in whatever random spot they found to sleep in. Nothing would match the comfort of their home and her gaze swept over the hardwood walls. Amelia had stitched her a tapestry that depicted her childhood cabin on the little green hill, which she had framed to hang on the wall by their dining section of the main room. With a long sigh, she leaned on her right hand to smile at her beloved cabin, "My pretty home."

He hid a smile of amusement to her endless love for their home and was proud that she never stopped fawning over it. Despite reaching their first month together, he would sometimes find her jiggling the doorknob of the front door with glee. She played it off as shining the metal or trying to thwart any lockpicking efforts but he knew better. Quirking an eyebrow of intrigue, he teased his wife, "Should I leave you and the walls alone?"

"Yes, and get me the navy drapes to change the curtains before we leave" she answered smartly to make their house maintain its beautiful appearance. Her family could watch over their livestock, mainly Elizabeth and Samuel, and peek into their home for any funny business. She had half a mine to booby-trap the place but it would inadvertently risk her family. He chuckled to her desire to style their home to its best while giving less enthusiasm to her own appearance when wandering the town. Patting the cherry table with fondness, she smiled brightly, "She deserves to look good while we're away. I'm going to miss our cozy bed though."

"We can stay at inns with this winter" he proposed to ward away the frigid temperatures but luck wasn't always with him due to his skin color. His wife would have a better chance of paying for a room by herself while he camped in the outskirts of a town or city. Her eyes narrowed when his gaze broke away from hers and he stated grimly, "At least those that will not kick me out."

"I can still keep your bed warm at camp" she joked impishly with a wink, refusing to stay in a rented room without him. They were a package deal and she would tangle with the elements if it meant staying by his side. Their time in a private camp gave them freedom and isolation from the rest of the world rather than bearing odd noises at night through the walls or passing drunk people by a stairway. She would not part from him, even if it meant an increased comfort during travel, and saw it cruel for any spouse that considered such. How could she rest easy in a room knowing her husband was out in the dead of winter? Besides, their little campground would grant them privacy from nosy people and she grinned slyly to purr, "It's much better suited for handling the noise."

He almost choked on his sip of tea to her bold talk and was quick to lecture gently, "Grace."

She didn't want him to feel rejected by society's views and always aimed to keep a smile on his face. They were small ones full of sincerity but his brown eyes brightened more than his facial expression. A blush over his freckled cheeks tickled her pink and she tried to provoke one with another amorous quip, "You drive me wild when you play coy."

A roguish grin of success crossed her lips when his cheeks flushed and he pointed the end of his fork at his half-finished meal to remind, "We're still eating breakfast."

It was safe to say that his wife was the more affectionate party and despite their initial shyness of consummating their marriage, she grew out of her shell. He was more conservative in displaying physical affection and preferred to keep their love life in the bedroom only. For Caroline, it was charming to see a man that most people ran from being the shy one of their partnership. Just to chide him for another smile, she picked up the pace on finishing her meal.

"I'm going to need this energy to ravage you before we leave" she explained nonchalantly while cutting her ham slice into smaller cubes for easy pickings. He sighed with modest dismay to falling prey to her ravenous appetite, both for the food and himself, and pinned her with a dull look. Caroline averted her gaze back to her own plate with a cheeky little smile and added in innocently, "And complete our chores."

"Grace" he warned gently because they had a lot of work to prepare for to ensure their home was safe during their time away. Packing away their belongings, preparing non-perishable food, maps, cleaning their weapons, and sending a message to their friends in Boston and New York about their plans was also another hurdle.

She snickered to his adorable fussing and burst out laughing at the little pout hitching at his lips. Not wanting to drive her husband away a day early, she calmed her laughter to inform him, "I meant tonight, I'm aware you weren't keen about the common room floor rug."

Living alone in their home brought a spontaneous daring streak in lovemaking that ended in humorous tragedy. She failed in luring him over the fluffy pelt rug that decorated their floor but it wasn't for a lack of trying. They had expected their distance from town and winter would thwart visitors but that wasn't the case. He shot her a dull gaze full of hidden humiliation and she shrugged quickly, tapping the table with her fists, to protest sheepishly, "How was I supposed to know that my parents would drop off food? You can't blame me for unexpected visitors."

Ratonhnhaké:ton kept his 'you know better' face on because he would never forget the embarrassing incident. He prayed to all his ancestors that their layers of clothing were easy to put back on or there would have been more humiliation in finding excuses for answering the door late and leaving her family in the cold. From then on, he refused any amorous invites that were out of their bedroom, much to Caroline's chagrin. His wife blushed heavily and fussed under her breath to having her little wild streak cut short.

---

22 January 1778

The duo had taken the Aquila south to New York as far as it could take them to cut their travel time to Pennsylvania. If they set off on foot or their horses, the cold of winter would hinder their advancement through the snow and frigid winds. The journey westward prompted Ratonhnhaké:ton to saddle their horses and load them onboard the Aquila for their first trip westward. Sophia had never seen anything past the woods of Massachusetts and had been wary to walk onto the wooden plank until Caroline led her inside with the lure of an apple. The golden mare was quick to board and her rider secured her lead in the cargo level, keeping her safe within a wooden pen that her husband reserved to stack fragile cargo to avoid movement. Ratonhnhaké:ton no longer used Roger or James for travel, given that they were Achilles' horses and let them enjoy retirement. From his rehabilitated horses, he had been drawn to a beautiful pinto-colored gelding as his spotted coat reminded him a little of himself. He was neither a one-toned horse nor one that held subtle changes of color but almost a hybrid of colors. Training him had been easy with his gentler temperament and after his wife commented that the emaciated gelding had spirit to come back fighting, he named him Awé:ri. Just like their riders, Sophia and Awé:ri were a formidable team to match the speed and stamina to their youth.

The horses made great stride in their speed but the couple gave them plenty of breaks. Ratonhnhaké:ton had even packed rolled blankets to cover the two during nights in the forest and created a makeshift roof of bundled branches with tightly packed snow that froze over to protect them at night. When the couple managed to find an inn that was willing to house them, he tied them in the guest barn with a metal chain to avoid having horse thieves seize them. Although the two would bite and fight like hell against strangers, there was nothing wrong with backup insurance. Together, they reached the snowy encampment at Valley Forge in the late morning.

Caroline had never seen a military camp and despite the white blanket of snow, the canvas tents of cream with gunpowder dusting them popped up along the mounds. Uniforms of blue, brown, and white darted through the chilly morning as the sun was barricaded from providing light through the thick cover of clouds. There were faces of all ages, some older than her father and younger than her, and she wondered what their families pondered at that moment without their loved ones at home. The men were fighting malnutrition, illness from the elements and battle wounds, and the harsh climate against their enemies. She understood why her husband wished to tell Washington about the Templars but if they made an error, more lives would be at risk.

She was startled out of her solemn rumination when a hand touched her back and found Ratonhnhaké:ton guiding her away. The biting cold tempted her to lean into him for body warmth but she had donned her navy coat over a white tunic and black vest, keeping her legs warm with black wool trousers and knee-length leather boots. She had upgraded her old Ishmael Bartlett appearance, cutting a portion of her long hair to tie it into the popular male ponytail of the time. Ratonhnhaké:ton had protested against it but she cheekily reminded him that he'd done the same to his own locks. Unlike her, his old haircut was hidden underneath his white hood.

He ignored any lingering stares from the soldiers, accustomed to the wary and suspicious glances. Caroline stuck closer to her husband, glaring down anyone that she caught gawking. He was here to help with their cause, regardless of his appearance. They found the leader of the resistance overseeing the western perimeter and while she struggled traversing through the dense snow uphill, her husband practically plowed through it. She lingered behind him to let him lead the interaction as he approached Washington, stepping up beside him to greet evenly, "Commander."

She smiled faintly to the older man's surprise at her husband's silent appearance. Instead of drawing respect from the older man like the soldiers, he simply bounded up to him without a care. He had quite the tendency to alarm people with his soundless steps and dexterity, a trait he never failed in fascinating her with. Washington recollected himself from the initial alarm to the new guests but he welcomed any help he could get. With the brutal winter pushing back their efforts, things were not looking great. Nodding to the younger native, he greeted politely, "Connor."

Noticing a younger redheaded man beside him, he acknowledged the newcomer and asked, "Who-"

She saluted the commander with a bright smile, amusing her husband, but her voice was low like a man's as she introduced herself, "Ishmael Bartlett. His assistant and an admirer of your work, sir."

Washington bought her disguise easily after spending almost a day without sleep. Ratonhnhaké:ton expected hesitation, given her round facial structure, but his wife had become crafty in hiding her gender. After all, he had fallen for her disguises once. Caroline beamed happily when the commander nodded with appreciation, "Thank you, Mr. Bartlett."

"Any word on Lee?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asked, eager to get started on any leads to the man. After traveling through several colonies to reach Valley Forge, he was ready to track down his enemy. No matter the weather, he would persevere with his mission. Caroline had yet to utter a peep of complaint which he admired and their horses were keeping pace with the snowy terrain.

Unfortunately, he didn't receive the news he wanted to hear. Washington shook his head to the lack of clues to the man's whereabouts. With the enemy at a current standstill, his men needed food and supplies. They had decent medical care in the camp and the tents held against the elements but they also needed proper nutrition, clothing, and ammunition. The younger man frowned slightly when he answered truthfully, "Not yet. My apologies, I've been distracted."

He hesitated for a moment, considering his options to disclose the truth, but the duo didn't appear malicious. With one warning him about having a target on his back, he decided a mutual collaboration would be beneficial. Crossing his arms, he explained the situation carefully, "Supply caravans meant for the camp have gone missing. I suspect treachery. A traitor named Benjamin Church, recently released from prison, has vanished as well. The two events are surely related."

Ratonhnhaké:ton remembered that name well from his targets wall in the manor's basement. With the man being closely allied to his father, he would no doubt be in contact with Charles Lee. Surprise did strike to having a Templar agent discovered for treachery, given their tactics of covert manipulation. Was this another ploy to strike at the Patriots? Curious about the man, he questioned, "What was his crime?"

Washington was not fond of treachery within his ranks but low morale and self-preservation could easily change a man's mind. If they couldn't trust their own men, what would become of their cause? Winter hindered strategy and attacked their numbers more than the enemy. Receiving assistance in the matter would help the troops with recovering the supplies and he replied grimly, "He was caught sending letters to the Loyalists detailing our troop strength. He claimed it was a scare tactic, that we might avoid war. A poor lie."

Ratonhnhaké:ton paused for a moment, glancing at his wife, who offered him a supportive smile. They were already in the dead of winter and she wouldn't turn back from a little chill. Their brave horses carried the same determination, glancing downhill to the horizontal post for stationing horses, to make sure they were safe. Her husband crossed his arms as he stood beside the commander and stated with resolve, "I will find Church for you."

Washington did not fully understand the native's willingness to help, given that most tribes were siding with the Loyalists. He was a silent man, barely giving anything away about himself, and questioned his strange willingness, "Why? What reason have you to help?"

"Does it matter?" he replied to question his skepticism because he had done more than his share to prove himself. Did he think he would easily betray him like his own people?

Caroline was more of the eager party and acted the part of a young soldier by raising a fist over her head. She was guilty of caving easily and giving too much life to her fake personas, claiming proudly, "For freedom!"

The couple glanced at each other uncertainly and Caroline cleared her throat awkwardly. Guess they should've practiced their lines better. They appeared an unlikely team, given the shaky relations between their societies, but she laughed on the inside. Who would ever believe they were married? She was there to add more credence to Ratonhnhaké:ton because the soldiers could easily brush him off as a spy or an idealistic man. As his second set of eyes, she was prepared to back him up and spoke, "Actually, we do have reason."

Catching the commander's curiosity, Caroline straightened her shoulders and clarified politely, "His tribe is neutral on this matter and we do not want neither army treading near their land. The Mohawk in upstate New York simply want to be left out of it."

"What guarantee do I have that they will not join the enemy?" Washington asked simply because the majority tended to win and right now, the Loyalists had the native vote. His soldiers had not engaged the tribe up north yet but he had scouts keeping eyes on those quiet settlements. The young man had been helpful so far but who was to say that his clan would be the same?

"We're here to help you, not the Loyalists" she asserted firmly to make their intention clear, pointing at the commander with emphasis. Taking a page from her husband's book, she was calm and collected on their plan to assist the Patriots and thwart the Templars. However, she would not risk her life or Ratonhnhaké:ton's needlessly without assurance of safety for their loved ones. While her husband wanted to tell the truth to the man, Caroline knew trust was a two-way street and she proposed, "In return for our aid, we want his village and our town left untouched by the war. We work quietly and efficiently as a team to extinguish any problems. You've already dealt with Connor and he has good men in his corner that can take care of inconveniences in the war effort."

Ratonhnhaké:ton faltered slightly when his wife revealed a rolled parchment from her coat pocket that she unfolded. When had she written it? He knew she was crafty, given her collaboration with Father Timothy to help them marry legally, and she handed the paper over to the commander. Washington grasped the neatly written page to read it silently as she explained simply, "We will aid this cause for you but I'm a stickler for legality. While the natives keep to their word orally, I do not. We do not expect money in exchange for helping you, simply the safety and land of our loved ones. Our homestead claims which have already been filed, if you will, to make sure nobody seizes them."

Keeping the land they lived on sounded fair but with the changing tides of territories, it could decrease or increase in value. Still, he doubted the two were concerned with monetary value, given that they only wanted that one thing. He walked away into his private tent that served as both a command base and sleeping quarter while the couple lingered outside in the cold. Ratonhnhaké:ton glanced at his wife with an unasked question but she simply smiled innocently. It was worth a try to claim the land that was rightfully theirs for a hand in shifting the tide. Washington was not a politician but he carried heavy sway with the men in power over the colonies.

The document did expose the locations of the land within the two colonies but she kept it vague enough that land titles would have to be shown. She and her husband had strategized in gaining legal homestead claims for their residents through loopholes. They didn't know the outcome of the war but property was binding to whoever was itching to buy so she would make sure nobody lost the homes they worked hard for. Dr. White had legally purchased the Fortier farm before passing the title to Lance, who passed it to her father, who passed it back to the Fortiers. By the time the game of hot potato with the land was over, the registrar's office didn't care anymore. Ellen's home had been purchased as a business by Big Dave (given his current homestead), who then handed over the deed to Ellen legally. Ratonhnhaké:ton paid attention to his wife's insight in playing the war for the colonies smartly to ensure their town didn't lose a single homestead. If anyone dared to come in to push them off the land, they would bury them legally and receive payment for their properties. Now, their legal work shifted to the village but unlike the town that held numerous households, Ratonhnhaké:ton was the only one who could begin to invest in it. He had been concerned greatly until his residents began offering donations and little by little, he was silently purchasing land.

His wife, however, decided to target Washington who had great sway in government matters. He was not their colony's representative but their work in the war, with the provided evidence, would give them a foot to stand on. The couple was surprised when Washington exited his tent to hand over the paper with his legal signature and wax seal. He would hire the much needed help, finding the native a quiet but reliable man. If his tribe was passive, he would leave them be but if they acted out against them, he would defend his men. Caroline folded the paper quickly, tucking it into a buttoned pocket in the inside of her vest, and tried not to grin like she had won a hundred pounds. Nodding to the abled duo, he began their partnership by pointing left of the tent towards the shrouded forest to tell them, "As you wish. We've received reports of trouble along the southern road. Might be he's responsible. I suggest you begin your search there."

They nodded silently to begin their hunt for the runaway Templar and Caroline added a respectful salute to emphasize their allegiance. The commander, however, appeared slightly amused with her more than anything. Treading down the same path they ascended to retrieve their horses, she dropped her male voice and whispered sneakily to her husband, "I can't believe I met George Washington! Boban will never believe me!"

"I can't believe he fell for your costume" Ratonhnhaké:ton muttered dryly to her convincing acting and smiled faintly when she hugged herself for warmth. Her nose was reddening against the cold and he blamed the shorter coat that was more for seafaring than the wild outdoors. When they returned home, he would commission Lance for another cabinet to store proper disguises. Duncan had brought up a good idea to keep attire and accessories that would allow them to infiltrate easily rather than waste money or steal people's clothing.

"Don't take jabs at your wife" she chuckled softly to her success because she had great doubt she'd be taken seriously by the soldiers. Women that were lucky to be taken into the war effort were either cooks, cleaners, or nurses. She made use of the library in Achilles' home to learn about their predecessors, namely the women that shaped the Order. Despite the gender roles placed on them, they worked within them to flourish as assassins. Flashing her spouse a mischievous smile to her new knowledge and explained, "I learned a bit reading the accounts of Hope Jensen and Mary Read. Achilles saved quite a bit of journals which have helped with my camouflaging and infiltration skills. You can be Grandpa Edward and I'll be Mary."

Ratonhnhaké:ton smiled faintly to taking up the helm of his grandfather but Edward lost friends along the way. He didn't want to relive similar tragedies but life among the Assassins was shrouded in danger. It is why he tried shielding Caroline from it in the beginning because he feared losing her. She was his strength and hope in their harsh world, breathing out white smoke against the cold as he told her, "I have to say I am enjoying this part of our life. It's far better than living a lie and hiding from you."

Arriving at the bottom of the slope, the two crunched snow under their feet as numerous footsteps carved out a muddy path. They took care in not slipping against the ice forming from the thin snow and approached the right path that would take them southward. Their horses would remain behind for safety and well-deserved rest while they delved into the forest. Tucking the collar of her coat closer to her neck, she shivered with a smile, "We're older, more realistic on end goals, and capable of fighting."

"You will stay behind me in the middle of a firefight" he reminded of their attack strategy because he wouldn't risk her life in a direct assault. She was better with guns than a blade and provided better cover fire for him when he tackled enemies headfirst. He promised her family he would keep her safe and their home was meant to house numerous years together.

She snapped her fingers and sighed with mock disappointment, "Nuts."

"Although you are an assassin, I am still your husband" he disclosed quietly because their bond would always come first. Achilles would chastise him but he would let an enemy run free if it meant his wife's life. He promised himself to not prioritize work over their marriage after marking that first error after his argument with Achilles. Her support of his work was greatly appreciated but he wouldn't risk damaging their marriage for a mission. She smiled fondly to his protectiveness as they treaded untouched snow to indent a new path to the forest. His eyes narrowed towards the shadowed areas of the dense forest and he stated, "I don't want harm to befall you so let me take the risks. You hide in the shadows while I tackle the fight in the light."

"That's not happening" she scoffed haughtily to being more of a bystander than a partner in a fight. There was absolutely no way she would let people shoot at him without intervening. When had she ever taken the route of being on the sidelines? Shaking her head, she refused to even consider it and shot back sternly, "No good woman would let her husband get injured on her watch."

"It was worth a try" he smiled to her loyal stubbornness to return the same protection, mimicking the same head shake. She covered her mouth to conceal a laugh as they entered the forest to begin their investigation, cautious to elicit loud noise. With winter in full bloom, they weren't expecting much in the sounds of wildlife. It would be easier to discern human noises from mother nature and he took the lead, cutting through the snowfall silently. Years of living in the forest made it easy to traverse through such terrain and he glanced back to watch his wife following his steps to avoid disturbing the snow. Curious about her previous request with the commander, he inquired about her secrecy, "Why didn't you tell me about your plan?"

"I didn't want to get your hopes up" she admitted truthfully after the idea came to mind during the night before leaving town. While he worked on cleaning their weapons and preparing ammunition, she worked on folding clean attire and preparing food rations. She took advantage of their study to draft the proposal after studying the business contracts with Davenport's Prospect and the general store. Her husband had a knack for business while she was finicky with organization, instilling the skills she needed to carry out the plan. War would always require business transactions and this was simply another that would help their goal to protect their land. She left monetary payment out of it to make it more appealing and less risk of debt repayment. The rebellion would need their money for weapons and supplies compared to land that was rightfully owned.

His childhood village was a meaningful fragment of who Ratonhnhaké:ton was and she would do her best to fight for it. She felt it would be easier for him to tolerate the pain of rejection of a last-minute plan rather than one they worked on tirelessly. Keeping pace with him, she hoped he wasn't mad at her own flicker of impulsiveness and offered, "I saw a chance and I took it."

He acknowledged her concerns but bitter disappointment had become an unwelcomed friend. His life with her, however, had always brought him joy and he refused to have it tainted. She had less of a wild streak than he did when it came to impromptu plans so he trusted her judgment. It was a gamble on her part but she succeeded. Glancing over his shoulder, he smiled fondly at her to joke gently, "If you weren't my wife, I would be indebted to you."

"Make me a basket of your corn cakes and we'll call it even" she grinned happily to vote of confidence and squeezed his shoulders from behind to convey her giddiness. Refusing to let the cold bite into her bones, she kept short and quick paces behind him. His lips widened into a grin to the affectionate hugging, hoping nobody saw their public display, and she doted, "I love you and I'll always protect what you love."

---

Ratonhnhaké:ton and Caroline scouted the southern road for a lead in the search for Church. Keeping away from the road within the forest, the couple used their tracking skills to find imprints in the snow and disturbed areas for leads while using the dried trees for cover. Travel during wintertime was not easy on the body and although a harsh winter had struck Valley Forge, the two persevered. Ratonhnhaké:ton was accustomed to the harsh elements since childhood while Caroline had adapted to the winters in the forest. Her new attire was far more equipped for the freezing temperatures than her navigator's attire, especially when burrowing her fingers into the snow for clues. Unfortunately, she kept her androgynous naval attire to keep up with her disguise and blend into the male-dominated battlegrounds. Her husband would likely nag her within the hour since he kept eyeing her chattering teeth and she was close to ditching her male disguise for cozy warmth.

Eventually, their trail led them to an abandoned church and the rickety old skeleton of its remains gave Caroline pause. It would be an odd joke to find a man named Church in a church. Ratonhnhaké:ton raised his hand to let her know that he would head in first and she withheld a sigh to his gentlemanly nature. Nodding with reluctance, she would cover his back and turned around to study the silent forest shrouded in snow. With Caroline covering their rear, he entered the empty church to investigate if there were remains of supplies, caravans, or clues to Church.

What he didn't expect was for the ceiling to creak and a heavy force to bring him down upon the floor. Who was waiting for him? Was it Church? The back of his head struck the wooden floor but he paid the pain no mind, raising his hands towards the assailant's neck to protect his own. He expected to greet a Loyalist, even a Templar in disguise, but not. . .

"Father" he greeted coldly to the familiar face on the opposite side that had eluded him since 1776. The man had visited his nightmares after their first meeting in Bridewell Prison but seeing him face-to-face was both jarring and infuriating. Achilles had warned him that his father would have decades of experience against him and for the briefest of seconds, took notice of it- given his current situation.

Haytham, on the other hand, showed no recognition in meeting him again and simply uttered, "Connor. Any last words?"

Any expectation of kindness went out the window when Haytham extended his hidden blade and Ratonhnhaké:ton replied, "Wait."

This was the boy that his Templar forces kept dying over? The one who failed to look in all corners, up and down, to catch any hidden enemies? Haytham was boggled to the assassin's naivety, even if it was his son, and narrowed his eyes to chastise him, "A poor choice."

A gunshot echoed in the air, breaking the two from their intense glaring match, but Haytham kept a firm grasp on the other man's collar. Caroline bounded up to them after hearing their scuffle from her guarding point, aiming her pistol at the man's head. She didn't like resorting to violence but she would kill anyone that threatened her husband's life. Her blue eyes narrowed dangerously at the stranger holding him captive and ordered coldly, "Choose your next words very carefully."

Ratonhnhaké:ton took this chance to wrench free from his father to stand up while Haytham thinned his lips to being outnumbered. Sure, he could kill them both to eliminate his enemies but he needed information first. Despite his son's piercing glare, he could find a way to make him valuable to avoid needless slaughter. His companion in the darker attire, however, had a colder edge to the eyes so he would have to kill both or none. He decided to take the easy route for now and play nice by usurping control of the conversation from the younger duo.

His wild child, however, only added fuel to the smoldering fire of their reunion by demanding, "Come to check up on Church? Make sure he'd stolen enough for your British brothers?"

For the first time, Ratonhnhaké:ton had the Templar Grandmaster alone without his henchmen. He had the upper hand by having his wife present but it was also a risk to place her in a fight against a man with more experience. Haytham, however, blew their assumptions of the Templar Order out of the frigid Atlantic Ocean by snapping curtly, "Benjamin Church is no brother of mine. No more than the Redcoats or their idiot king. I expected naiveté but this..."

He waved a hand in his son's direction with disappointed dismay to emphasize his aversion to his childish thinking. Ratonhnhaké:ton fought the urge to stab Haytham's hand or punch the man for minimalizing him over a simple question. What had the Assassins been teaching his misguided son? He wasn't a fan of the Loyalists but his goals for order aligned with that group temporarily. Refusing to be labeled as a villain bent on destruction, he chastised his son by correcting sternly, "The Templars do not fight for the crown. We seek the same as you, boy! Freedom. Justice. Independence."

Caroline was unsettled by how familiar the latter words sounded after spending hours in the manor's library reading historical books. She had never met a Templar face-to-face and remembered this man being part of her husband's wrongful imprisonment. At the same time, he was the same person who had covertly assisted in freeing him which utterly confused her. So far, the Templars cared little for civilian casualties while their order avoided it. Like her husband, she would seek peace when compromise was possible and raised her hand to speak up, "Wait a darn minute. . ."

Ratonhnhaké:ton matched her confused expression, not trusting his father in the slightest, and hesitated, "But . . ."

Haytham raised his eyebrows with a piercing look in his eyes that made the two feel like small children with their hands in a cookie jar. While Caroline took a step back to create space, her husband decreased the personal space to antagonize the perceived threat. She didn't want the two to break into a fight but the older man didn't help when he chided sarcastically, "Hmmm! But what?"

Brown eyes narrowed with offense and Ratonhnhaké:ton glared at him to state grimly, "Johnson. Pitcairn. Hickey. They sought to steal land. To sack towns. To murder George Washington!"

The older Templar was not in the mood for a history lesson but his wayward child required a different perspective of events. He would not abide to being painted as a bloodthirsty villain, no matter how eager his enemy was to discredit him. With his son being the ringleader, he would nip that negative thinking and corrected sharply, "Johnson sought to own the land that we might keep it safe. Pitcairn aimed to encourage diplomacy—which you cocked up thoroughly enough to start a god-damned war!"

His son barely batted an eye to his accusation and he continued to tear down his silly notions, "And Hickey? George Washington is a wretched leader. He's lost nearly every battle in which he's taken part."

"He's not that bad!" Caroline protested indignantly to having the leader of the rebellion painted in a negative image. Given that he was their enemy, he would likely portray himself as the hero of his Order's end game. She would not trust someone that had tried to kill someone dear to her and believe them so easily. Her husband had been fighting tirelessly against the Templars and having his own father as the leader couldn't have been easy to accept. Being raised by a loving father that supported his children, Caroline could not imagine turning against her own family. Her blue gaze swept over the man to scrutinize him and she demanded, "Who's to say you're not spinning a colorful tale for your people's part?"

It appeared she struck a chord but Haytham decided to pluck that string to irritate them further, "The man's wracked with uncertainty and insecurity. Only look at Valley Forge to know my words are true."

His right hand waved through the air to bat away the thought like an unwelcome imaginary bug and dismissed airily, "We're all be better off without him."

"He is the leader the people have chosen" his son stated firmly to the majority vote that echoed through the colonies. Unlike the Templars, he believed everyone had a say in leadership instead of forcing someone unwillingly upon a people.

Haytham was not going to entertain his naive opinions, given the lousy weather, and proposed smoothly, "Look, much as I'd love to spar with you, Benjamin Church's mouth is as big as his ego. You clearly want the supplies he's stolen, I want him punished. Our interests are aligned."

Ratonhnhaké:ton didn't trust him one bit but they were looking for the man. He didn't understand why Haytham would want to work with them, given their history, and found it suspicious. Did he intend to gain his trust only to betray them? Or was there another plan underway? He had never interacted with any Templar for longer than five minutes and wondered why he was willing to collaborate with them. Taking the advice of Caroline and Achilles, he treaded cautiously and asked, "What do you propose?"

Haytham swallowed his pride because he needed results in order to win this war. If that meant working beside the enemy, who was also his son, then so be it. Given that this was his child, maybe he could change his silly dreams for a fairer world. He had not seen vast changes since arriving in the new colonies before the boy's birth and highly doubted that it would happen anytime soon. Maintaining extreme calm, he approached the two suspicious men with a compromise, "A truce. Perhaps . . . perhaps some time together might do us good. You are my son, after all, and might still be saved from your ignorance."

Caroline's eyes widened to the fullest a hearing this piece of information, resembling a surprise doe. Wait, this was his father?! They were facing the leaders of the Templars and not a random antagonist?! Is that why he was being more direct in his speech? She assumed it was a previous Templar he had encountered! Ratonhnhaké:ton sighed under his breath immediately at having the truth revealed, his broad shoulders slumping with disappointment because he hoped to keep it secret. He expected his father to leave quickly in escape rather than linger and now, his wife was face to face with his father.

She knew who he was in the Templar order, surprised to finding a high-ranking officer in a scouting mission, and blurted with alarm, "Your son? Wait, he's your dad? Oh my-"

"Please control your henchman" the Templar sighed with dismay, quite similar to his son, but the younger man simply glared back. Honestly, no respect from the younger generation. Caroline covered her mouth with her left hand to calm her surprise to avoid slipping into her true voice while her right hand kept a firm grip on her pistol. This was not what she expected at all today- her best scenario was finding a lead to the supplies or the other Templar. Not meeting her father-in-law in the dead of winter inside a dilapidated church.

Quite frankly, she didn't know how the first meeting would go but it wasn't this. Although her husband depicted a strong exterior against emotional pain, she knew he was a well of deep thought. His mother's early death was still a trauma that he coped with and the absence of a father, coupled with him being a dangerous man, Ratonhnhaké:ton had a platter of sour memories. It wasn't easy to live with his fractured childhood and she tried her best to protect him from further harm. Caroline scoffed with disdain to the unsavory role, narrowing her eyes at him, and corrected, "I'm not a henchman, I'm. . . his assistant . . . named Ishmael.

Haytham had a hard time believing that, given the higher cheekbones and rounded chin. The pistol she aimed at him was also fit for smaller hands like a woman's compared to the holstered ones of his son. She was more difficult to discern than he was and remarked offhandedly, "You're too pretty to be a man."

Caroline didn't know how to respond to that, blanking on a response, and managed a hesitantly, "Ah . . . thank you?"

Ratonhnhaké:ton was still burning with embarrassment at having his wife meet his father. Not to mention, the fact that they might be working together as a team. Templars and assassins did not have the greatest alliance record and most killed each other rather than getting along. For the first time, he wished he had not gone on this mission or taken a different path on a separate day to avoid it. Maybe Achilles was right on his haste. Great. Crossing his arms, he scuffed the snow with his right boot and muttered under his breath, "This cannot get any worse."

His father did not help by unsheathing his hidden blade, raising it in the air for both to see, and offered another alternative solution, "I can kill you now if you'd prefer?"

"We choose existence" Caroline swiftly replied because she had a home to return to, a warm bed, livestock, her family, and a pet turkey. Quite frankly, she wished for that fabulously plump turkey to chuck him at her father-in-law. If he was nonchalant about killing his own flesh and blood, she wouldn't fare any better.

The blade was instantly sheathed to conceal the menacing appearance and he turned away from the two to beckon, "Excellent! Shall we be off?"

Caroline spared an awkward glance at her husband, keeping close to him, and commented dryly, "He's too cheerful after proposing an execution."

Her heart jumped into her throat when the older man shot back with a confident voice, "Better to let miserable wretches fade and allow the strong to thrive."

How good was the man's hearing? He was older than her parents! Ratonhnhaké:ton shook his head with disbelief and disappointment to his careless tact. How was he supposed to trust this man not to backstab him after finding Church? If he wanted to take the lead, he would allow him. Mainly because it would let him keep the Templar in his sight at the forefront rather than drop his guard. Caroline frowned with distaste at the Templar and shot back, "You're talking about your son!"

It made no difference to Haytham because whoever crossed his path would be eliminated. His focus was on achieving Templar dominance in the New World by starting with the English colonies. With his son deciding to throw his lot in with his enemy, he became an enemy. It was best to think that way to avoid another detour of emotional pondering because Ziio was no longer alive and their child was now an adult. One hellbent on making his life difficult. Shrugging simply, he retorted coldly on his views regarding death, "I hold no preferences when it comes to survival."

Ratonhnhaké:ton was not keen on hearing more of his father's macabre talk on killing him mercilessly. He refused to let it affect him and trained his mind to see him as an enemy, an outsider, not his own father. His life had not been graced with loving biological ties like his wife but he managed to survive. Crossing his arms, he decided to get moving on the trail and questioned tightly, "Do you even know where Benjamin Church has gone?"

With the way his father spoke, he expected a grandiose retelling of his scouting and tracking skills. Instead, he tried to stop a smirk from touching his lips when the older man sighed with disdain, "I'm afraid not. I'd hoped to ambush him when he or one of his men returned here. It seems I'm too late. They've come and cleared the place out."

Caroline watched her husband push past his father to take the lead, walking back out into the snowy landscape, and kept her eyes trained on their enemy turned collaborator. This was going to be a really odd adventure. This had not been part of their plan but if Ratonhnhaké:ton was willing to put aside their difference, so would she. However, she would be watching the other man like a hawk. Her husband broke the silence by calling back to them, "I may be able to track him."

---

Ratonhnhaké:ton found a trail of wagon tracks that eventually led them to the damaged cart. For a moment, Haytham was reminded of his travels with Ziio during winter and her expert tracking. He still could not climb a tree as efficiently as her and wondered if the trait passed on to their son. It was a painful hassle not to see hints of her in the man. He also didn't fail to notice the redhead kept a visual target on his back. Were they an Assassin or hired help? The trio came to find a wagon tipped over into the snow while a man in blue attire attempted to dig it out of the snow. It was a vain effort but he kept trying.

"Just my luck... Going to freeze to death if I don't get this fixed..."

The assassin approached the helpless man, making his presence known by intentionally crushing the snow under his feet, and the driver turned around with alarm. Attempting to appear disarming, he clasped his hands together over his abdomen and asked politely, "Are you Ben Church's man?"

The cart driver responded by running off in fear and Caroline sighed at the needless reaction. Her husband was not frightening! Even his tone of voice had been befitting for speaking with a child. She threw her hands up in the air at losing their first promising lead which Haytham didn't help by drawling sarcastically, "Well played. A blind man would've fared better."

Being the one that caused the man to run off, Ratonhnhaké:ton took chase after him with a frustrated frown. He had tried to find the easiest path that didn't lead to violence but the other party disagreed. The man was scared, whether of him, being lost, or risking his means of survival, he didn't know. Haytham eyed the redhead suspiciously when she didn't move to back up her partner and the Templar followed after his son. Caroline wasn't about to leave both of their backs exposed to the enemy and moved only until the Templar was ahead.

By the time the two caught up to Ratonhnhaké:ton, the pursuit was over. The assassin was accustomed to running through harsh terrain and snow was constant in his home during the winter. Sometimes, even early spring and late fall. The steps of the cart driver were uncoordinated and sloppy which made the race easy for the native. An old rabbit would have given him a better chase. Pinning the man to a tree by grabbing the front of his shirt, he advised simply, "It was not wise to run."

If it had been spring or summer, a wild animal could easily pick him off. He was not looking to hurt anyone but to simply extract information. His target was Benjamin Church, not civilians who were unaware of the secret war or followers that behaved and ran off. He did not like to resort to force or violence as a means to an end but the freezing elements, an unseen enemy, and having his own father behind his back pushed him onwards.

The man wriggled in a vain attempt to overpower the taller man and stammered nervously, "W-what do you want?"

"Where is Benjamin Church?" he asked firmly to be transparent in who he sought and glared at the man to show him he meant business. It wouldn't hurt to use silent intimidation for quick results rather than a physical response.

The driver shook his head fervently, squirming against the tree, and exclaimed helplessly, "I don't know! We was riding for a camp just north of here. It's where we normally unload the cargo. Maybe you'll find him-"

Caroline saw the glint of silver metal raise from Haytham's right side and before she could attempt to restrain the man, he shot the driver's left temple. The loud sound echoed painfully in Ratonhnhaké:ton's ears, particularly his right, and he jumped back to cover the stinging eardrum. Their only lead slumped to the ground in a dead heap, his life gone before Ratonhnhaké:ton could even try to place pressure on the wound.

"Oh shit!" Caroline hissed with disbelief under her breath, darting between father and son, to protect her husband. Her reaction time had been slow against the Templar and if they weren't working together, would he have spared Ratonhnhaké:ton? His carelessness at his proximity against the poor driver didn't fill her with confidence. Her heart hammered with disappointment in herself and fear that he would hurt her spouse.

Haytham put his pistol away nonchalantly, barely batting an eye in concern to extinguishing a life. In the grand scheme of things, it would not matter. His son and his companion, however, both gawked at him with restrained fury and surprise. He did not have the patience to coddle the incompetent and helpless unlike the other two. Backing away from the blood-soaked snow, he muttered simply, "Enough of that."

Ratonhnhaké:ton rubbed his right ear to clear away the bothersome dull sensation, glaring heatedly at his father. He was handling the situation just fine before his interference. Now, he had an innocent man dead in the middle of a snowy road. This was not how he behaved on a mission, outraged at his lack of empathy, and snapped angrily, "You did not have to kill him!"

"We do not shoot civilians!" Caroline agreed firmly because he was handling the interrogation fine until Haytham cut it short. If the enemy was nearby, they more than likely heard the gunshot. Giving away their position was not part of the plan and she bit her lower lip to failing their objective. She would feel ten times safer working with one of their own rather than the enemy, even if it was his father.

Haytham would not apologize for his action, having done worse for results, and decided to take control of their reconnaissance. He worked better alone while his son was apparently in a partnership so sending them to scout the enemy's location. He had decades of experience in comparison to them and he could analyze the situation better by watching the younger duo. If they were prone to errors in tracking and infiltration, he could work with them. If they were terrible, he would discard them and head out on his own again. Peering down the snowy path that was smeared with wagon tracks, he ordered them to carry on, "Let's not waste time with all this pointless banter. Go catch up with the rest of Church's men. Infiltrate that camp of theirs and see what you can discover."

Ratonhnhaké:ton narrowed his eyes to being bossed around and shot back heatedly, "What about you?"

Haytham was not going to let the younger man demand answers because he had scolded subordinates for simply looking at him funny. His son would be no different. He ignored the bothersome flicker that dared to light concern over the assassin and quickly stomped it into nonexistence. No matter how much he resembled Ziio, she was long gone now. Returning an offended glare of his own to outmatch his petulant pouting, he reprimanded, "Never you mind. Just do as I ask."

Caroline's left eyebrow shot up because it wasn't exactly a request and remarked, "Not do as I say?"

"Don't be cheeky" he lectured dryly to the more logical one of the two, noticing his blue eyes kept him in sight. He was skeptical about him being a man based on the facial structure but maybe the poor bastard had been graced with a pretty face. Is that why his son had him as a companion? Chastising himself for being curious about his estranged son's life, he ordered himself to keep moving. He had a mission to complete by finding and annihilating Church, not pondering over his son.

He left the two to fend for themselves without another thought and headed back into the forest. Once he was clearly out of sight and out of hearing distance, Caroline embraced her husband tightly around the waist. Hearing a gunshot echo so closely to him had clenched her heart and Ratonhnhaké:ton smiled faintly, returning her embrace tightly around the shoulders. She smiled with relief to his safety, enjoying a soft kiss to her forehead, and murmured flatly, "He's really your father?"

"Unfortunate blood ties" he replied grimly to the lack of paternal concern his whole life and the horrible irony of finding him now. His life had finally begun on a positive path with his new marriage and having his wife alongside him on missions comforted him. Having his father in the middle of that, especially during their first year of marriage, was not appealing. He frowned with distaste to another thought that surfaced and groaned for pity, "Please tell me you don't see a resemblance."

"I . . . no, I mean, I've met him before" she revealed quietly to interacting with the man outside of Bridewell Prison. He had been insistent on his execution while she dared to debate him. She didn't realize just how dangerous of a man she had inadvertently dealt with back then. Why was he willing to work with Ratonhnhaké:ton now after trying to kill him? It didn't make sense to her. His frown disappeared for curiosity in his eyes and she added in, "Back in New York."

Having his wife and father meet without one knowing about the other baffled him. Only his life would lead to such odd events. He was glad that Haytham didn't recognize her through the disguise so far and wondered how they met. Had she been in disguise as well? Or as her true self? Releasing her from their embrace, he remarked dryly, "Was he laughing at peasants or executing civilians?"

Caroline blinked awkwardly at the question, hugging herself to keep warm, and blurted, "No! Is that a Templar thing?"

Her tone of mixed surprise stirred a soft laugh from his end and he ushered her forward to continue their mission, "Let's go."

---

The couple had snuck up behind the convoy and infiltrated the camp, silently crouching within a bush to conceal themselves. Their observation allowed them to pinpoint the number of men in the camp but their concealment was soon thrown into jeopardy. Ratonhnhaké:ton was the first to spot two men dragging another towards the makeshift campfire and he withheld a miserable groan at recognizing his father. Could his day get any worse?

He wasn't necessarily ready to agree because having his father on his knees while other men gloated over him soothed his inner pain. On the other hand, his moral compass compelled him to protect people from unnecessary violence. Even if it was his annoying father. He and Caroline were safe in their concealed spot and risking exposure could go badly for them. His wife's safety would always exceed the one of an absent father.

The arrogant jeering voice of the camp leader echoed across the field as he claimed aloud, "He's something else. Something special. Isn't that right, Haytham? Church told me all about you.

Caroline heaved a long sigh under her breath because they had little options in this. They could either leave the Templar to fend for himself or expose their position to help him. Her husband was not one to let people slaughter each other and she gave him a sidelong glance to mutter dryly, "We're going to bail him out, aren't we?"

Ratonhnhaké:ton was partly inclined to simply crouch and watch the drama unfold, muttering back, "Not unless I absolutely have to."

Haytham turned his head away from the man's ridiculous rant, avoiding any spit flying from his missing teeth. Did he really think he could best him? How old did this lout think he was? A cockroach would fare better against him! He kept a straight face to rile him further and replied evenly, "Then you should know better than this."

"You're not really in a position to be makin' threats are ya?" the scoundrel scoffed haughtily to retaining his boss' enemies. As long as the money kept coming, he would do the work. Given the man's embarrassing capture, he wouldn't be going anywhere.

Haytham was not pleased to be kneeling on the snow like a mutt with restrained arms. He could easily kill these men but there was curiosity in testing his son's willingness to help. A good Assassin would let him rot and carry on with the lead to Church but he lingered behind. It wasn't particularly hard to spot the white hood within the bushes and he stated calmly with a faint smile, "Not yet."

Ratonhnhaké:ton wanted to smack his head against the nearest tree trunk and sighed miserably, "Great, he's forcing my hand intentionally."

"This feels like a test of commitment" Caroline remarked because the Templar was strong enough to at least take one of the men down by hurling them forward. That, or stabbing one with the hidden blade. Instead, he was complacent as their captured enemy and subtly taunted them. After seeing him kill the cart driver without hesitation, she didn't doubt he was planning something.

"I'm already regretting this partnership" he muttered with great reluctancy, not really wanting to help his father. Still, he wouldn't be able to rest comfortably knowing he left him at the mercy of the group. Robert and Achilles would tell him otherwise after the damage he inflicted on their order but his conscience wouldn't rest easy with leaving the enemy to suffer. He was one to grant merciful and quick deaths, even if his father was the root of the Templar Order.

Caroline smirked when he uttered a groan of discontent before sneaking to the left into another bush. It appeared he had made up his mind. Quietly trailing behind him, she would not stay behind and set her lips in a straight line when he motioned for her to return to the old bush. Caroline decided to sit in the snow to silently protest this idea and Ratonhnhaké:ton realized that he was surrounded by stubborn folk that day. He continued moving closer to camp and Caroline grinned sneakily, dusting snow off her bottom and following him once more. He was being petty but he let the beating continue for a few seconds before reluctantly helping his father.

Deciding on an attack that would draw attention, he unholstered his pistol and aimed at the man in the forefront. He envied his ability to taunt his father but not the fact that his life was about to end. Shooting the man in the chest, the other henchmen released Haytham from surprise to find the source of the noise. Ratonhnhaké:ton did not attempt to hide in the slightest, intentionally drawing their attention as the target, and glared at his father to lecture, "Do not think this makes up for anything."

Haytham shot up to his feet like nothing ever happened, bypassing the incensed men with fluid dexterity, and declared jovially, "Once you've dealt with these louts, meet me in New York city!"

His annoyance quickly transformed into anger at being left to fend for himself. What kind of alliance was this? Dodging a punch to the face from one of Church's men, he grabbed the collar of the man's jacket to hurl him into the snow. Buying himself a few seconds, he chose to chastise his father with his irrational logic, "What? You mean to just leave? Now?"

Why was he not surprised? He had left his mother and now, was committing the same to him. Why would he even dare to hope that the man would hold an inkling of concern for him? Caroline kicked the midsection of another man to divide enemy attention, glaring at the Templar to snap tightly, "He just gave away safe cover for you!"

Haytham admonished his son when he dared to throw one of the men at him to keep him restrained to the camp. He had already spent enough time there and knew where his next lead would be. Fishing through the pockets of the dead man while Ratonhnhaké:ton drew their ire helped considerably. A swift kick to the hurled lout's head kept another enemy down for his stubborn son and he decided that was the last freebie for him. He was curious to how he could handle himself as a lone agent and called out matter-of-factly, "If you can't handle a couple of mercenaries then we've really no business working together."

He left the camp swiftly without another word, disappearing over a mound of snow, and Ratonhnhaké:ton glanced at his wife to declare with disbelief, "Unbelievable!"

This was not how she wanted to meet the famous but feared Templar but being ditched sounded up the man's alley. Caroline offered a sympathetic smile to the kind of father he received and chuckled dryly, "Figures my new father-in-law would abandon us to the clutches of evil."

He withheld a shudder to hearing that because Haytham would never compare to Godfrey as a father-in-law. Her father would never leave them helpless in a bind and would hack away at anyone who dared to hurt them. He would not be associating the Templar to anything that resembled a family bond and frowned, "Don't ever call him that."

Caroline respected his wishes and with a fight on their hands, unholstered both of her pistols to grin broadly at the remaining four men, "All right then, who wants to meet their maker first?"

---

A/N: And Haytham makes three in the traveling party. Connor and Carrie's little reprieve in their marriage has come to an abrupt end and they'll be back to sailing in no time to the Caribbean. Reunions can be awkward with estranged family and with those two being on opposite factions, conversations and compromises will be interesting. I've been waiting for this part of the story, apart from their wedding and the future baby arrival, since the Bridewell Prison chapters. I did not think this story would become as long as it has.

Thank you to my lovely readers and last chapter reviewers:

danelleprae: Haytham time has arrived and he'll drive everyone on the Aquila insane.

taylor115: I'm really glad that the characters are meaningful to you, mainly because all of it is based on historical research of the times. They're wholesome families that are trying their best for their kids, which is what the children see and will one day teach their own kids. Connor sorely needed a little family nest but the events that will play out will make him much more protective of his children. As for Haytham and Caroline, they'll be more of a verbal chess game kind of humor while Connor and Haytham will be two rams butting heads. Robert will be the supportive dad figure while Haytham stomps it all down on the way to the Caribbean.

EastCoastCaptain: Childhood is completely gone for them. The only ones pushing 14 now are Sam, Anne, and Maria. Haha. Joining the order on the contingency of completing their homework is funny. I can see Connor using math with his kids by saying "If great-grandpa Edward was attacked by five ships but he sank two into the ocean, how many are left to plunder?". Haytham is a very interesting character, which is why Caroline will often pop out with questions and try to bridge the son-father feud into peace. It won't work but hey, at least she tried.

Next Chapter Excerpt:

Haytham heard their footsteps approach from behind before they revealed their presence, speaking up evenly, "Evening, Connor. I see you made it here in one piece with your little friend."

No thanks to you, Ratonhnhaké:ton thought bitterly to being abandoned in the middle of winter against strangers. Luckily, having his wife helped to make quick work of the camp but alone, he would have been delayed. Why did his father work so intentionally to see him fail? Was it because they were enemies or estranged family? Ugh, he didn't even like to use the word family with him but there was a begrudging part of him that had to maintain some form of respect for his elders. Even if they were murdering ones bent on destruction.

I'm not little, Caroline thought sheepishly because she reached her husband's nose which was a feat considering his tall height. Her family wasn't little either – that is, compared to other townsfolk. Great, he made her self-conscious! How did he keep doing that?!

Ratonhnhaké:ton stiffened to hearing his nickname name uttered, still oblivious to how he found out about it. Had his spies revealed it? He rubbed it out of his mind, reminding himself not to care that he knew facts about him. Of course he would, he was their enemy. His knowledge came from a need to wipe out the Assassins, not paternal care. Brushing off the subtle insult, he shot back with one of his own, "Recovered from your beating, then?"

Haytham's gaze stiffened to the chide while Caroline subdued a snicker by clearing her throat, calling for peace to their collaboration, "Gentlemen, shall we remain cordial?"

"You're no gentleman" the older man pointed out skeptically because the baggy clothing was androgynous and hung from Bartlett's frame. His son, meanwhile, was physically built to tackle a small militia and wore fitted clothing. In the dim lightning of night, the other man's features were hidden but the mystery was mildly intriguing to pass the boredom.

His mind was confounded further by the Scotsman when a grin was sent his way, followed by a cheeky, "Never said I was."

He was not one to tolerate insubordination or crude sass but her polite speech mixed in with dry sarcasm was reminiscent of his own. Unlike his son, who was direct and lacked much of a funny bone, his partner was more calculating. Was the redhead an Assassin or a hired mercenary? If it was the latter, they might have a chance as a Templar. Pointing a finger at him, blue eyes watched his appendage vigilantly while he remarked, "Sharp. Are you sure he shouldn't be following you?"

Caroline quickly shook her head to such an idea and hoped he wasn't trying to play divide and conquer. She and her husband were a team and nobody would drive a wedge between them. She followed him out of respect and supplied firmly without hesitation, "No."

Haytham shrugged nonchalantly to causing a shift in power, earning a glare from his son. Would he ever get a mildly calm version? Honestly, he felt like he was dealing with a teenager. Turning back around with caution, he peered over the city to target a specific neighborhood and spoke, "Benjamin Church is holed up in an abandoned brewery on the waterfront. We should be done with this by sunrise."

---

Thank you for reading!