I wanted to thank you guys for being so patient with me. College has been stressful, my personal life has been stressful, so I didn't have much time to write. This chapter is longer than most, the first part is a bit of an exposition dump. But that's only because I'm going to be broadening the scope of the war somewhat. Anyways, enjoy!

-Hawkfrost

Westminster 1778

It was raining again, but then again it was always raining. He let out a disgruntled sigh and proceeded up the steps of Westminster Palace. As he entered the palace doors, he shook off the rain that had been seeping into the folds of his clothes even through his rain jacket. Curse this weather and curse this damned war. The footman took his items and placed them on a rack. He'd been a member of parliament for years now, but the building never stopped taking his breath away. Aside from the Sovereign, this building was the bedrock of the British Empire.

The Parliament of Great Britain was formed in 1707 following the ratification of the Acts of Union by both the Parliament of England and the Parliament of Scotland. The Acts goal was to unify the peninsula into one cohesive government. In doing so, the dissolution of the Scottish parliament was a small price to pay. Much better to have one, single parliament to be the voice of authority than let the islands squabble amongst each other.

This building, the building he now had a seat and a voice in, was an embodiment of both power and history. He took the time to gaze around the room, studying the various pieces of art and admiring the statues. His history lessons started flooding back to him as he walked the halls. Tradition suggests that a Roman temple to Apollo stood here by the River Thames. That temple was supposedly destroyed in an earthquake, and no trace of it remains, if, indeed, it ever existed. As time went on the history became more clear. Especially when it comes to the Saxon period, for we know that a timber church dedicated to St Peter was built here in the 8th century. To distinguish the new church from St Paul's in the center of London, the new church was known as the West Minster, while St Paul's was known as the East Minster. The name was contracted over time until the area around the church became known as Westminster. In the 10th century, Westminster church was re-established as a Benedictine monastery.

In the early years of the 11th century, King Cnut built a royal palace on Thorney Island, a rise of high ground in the River Tyburn. The most influential Saxon king, however, was Edward the Confessor, who founded Westminster Abbey and built a new royal palace beside his great new monastic foundation.

When William the Conqueror came to the throne he used the existing Palace and Abbey as his base of power in London, but it was his son, William Rufus, who began to transform the earlier Saxon palace. William Rufus began building Westminster Hall in 1097 and created the largest royal hall in Europe. The Hall was used as a ceremonial center, for banqueting and entertaining. Over the next few centuries, several of the most important administrative arms of government, such as the Court of Common Plea and the Chancery were established at Westminster Hall. It was not until the 13th century, however, that Westminster was used as the center for parliamentary gatherings.

In fact, it was only after Henry VIII left Westminster Palace for Whitehall in 1512 that Westminster Palace became the permanent home of Parliament. So engrossed was he in his minds history lesson he didn't hear the man calling his name.

"Sir John!" He turned to see a portly gentleman of around fifty striding towards him.

"Ah, Sir William. Forgive me, this building never ceases to amaze."

Sir William gave him a knowing look and then motioned for him to join him in walking.

"It's time. Or would you like to tell His Majesty that you'd like him to wait a moment?"

This drew a bark of laughter from John. "No, one mustn't keep the Crown waiting. Lead on, Sir William."

As they were walking, John recalled the last time His Majesty had addressed parliament. Urging them to send troops to ensure the peaceful suppression of treasonous activity. He could recall the words almost perfectly.

"Whereas many of our subjects in divers parts of our Colonies and Plantations in North America, misled by dangerous and ill designing men, and forgetting the allegiance which they owe to the power that has protected and supported them; after various disorderly acts committed in disturbance of the public peace, to the obstruction of lawful commerce, and to the oppression of our loyal subjects carrying on the same; have at length proceeded to open and avowed rebellion, by arraying themselves in a hostile manner, to withstand the execution of the law, and traitorously preparing, ordering and levying war against us: And whereas, there is reason to apprehend that such rebellion hath been much promoted and encouraged by the traitorous correspondence, counsels and comfort of divers wicked and desperate persons within this realm: To the end therefore, that none of our subjects may neglect or violate their duty through ignorance thereof, or through any doubt of the protection which the law will afford to their loyalty and zeal, we have thought fit, by and with the advice of our Privy Council, to issue our Royal Proclamation, hereby declaring, that not only all our Officers, civil and military, are obliged to exert their utmost endeavors to suppress such rebellion, and to bring the traitors to justice, but that all our subjects of this Realm, and the dominions thereunto belonging, are bound by law to be aiding and assisting in the suppression of such rebellion, and to disclose and make known all traitorous conspiracies and attempts against us our crown and dignity; and we do accordingly strictly charge and command all our Officers, as well civil as military, and all others our obedient and loyal subjects, to use their utmost endeavors to withstand and suppress such rebellion, and to disclose and make known all treasons and traitorous conspiracies which they shall know to be against us, our crown and dignity; and for that purpose, that they transmit to one of our principal Secretaries of State, or other proper officer, due and full information of all persons who shall be found carrying on correspondence with, or in any manner or degree aiding or abetting the persons now in open arms and rebellion against our Government, within any of our Colonies and Plantations in North America, in order to bring to condign punishment the authors, perpetrators, and abetters of such traitorous designs."

If you had asked any member of Parliament at that time none of them would have been able to fully grasp the significance of what was to come next. Who were a few poorly armed rebels to challenge to most powerful army and navy on the planet? Most thought the war would be over quickly. Send in the soldiers, reestablish order, and be done with it. But now, three years in and with no end in sight, the mood in Westminster was anything but hopeful. They were already hemorrhaging money from the seven years war with France if those damned colonists had shown an ounce of loyalty by repaying Great Britain fiscally for protecting them from unwarranted French aggression this war could've been avoided. Now they were further in debt with nothing to show for it but blood and suffering.

00000

Every one of Astrid's muscles was screaming at her to take off running, thankfully her training told her not to. She listened intently for anything that might clue her into where her attacker was located. She thanked God it was dark and the only illumination was via moonlight or this would've been over already. She slowly felt the ground around her and selected a rock the size of her fist. She edged herself up onto her knees and tossed the rock in the opposite direction. The rock had barely landed before the musket shot rang out. Using her window of time, she darted from her current position and hit the ground running. She could hear a muted curse in the darkness and then the sound of him giving chase. Okay, think, follow the river and hook behind the curve. You can lose him in the darkness and the ravine. It took her a moment to process that she was missing something. I, I can't let him live. If I do, he'll report it back to his superiors and my cover will be blown. Shit!

She shook her head and kept running. She could hear him behind her in the dark, stumbling through the brush, snapping twigs, knocking over rocks, and hitting trees. She chuckled at that. Her mirth died when she remembered that this city dweller had killed her contact. Crack! The musket ball slammed into the tree not five feet to her right causing her to stumble. She rolled into the fall and came up in a crouch behind a tree. She unsheathed her knife and held it point down hilt up. Licking her lips, she began counting the seconds in her head until he approached. She got to twenty-eight before she could see a dark shape slowly making its way around the bend. He was well trained, sweeping his musket in a defensive cover pattern, elbows tucked, feet spaced, and shoulders loose. His eyes were in constant motion, looking for the slightest hint of movement.

Astrid silently cursed herself for throwing the rock earlier. The same trick would hardly work twice in one night. Her heart was a racehorse in her chest, its hooves were her heart pounding against her ribcage. She raised her arm and gently slid against the tree. She froze as he twitched and brought the musket back around, his eyes scanning for something, for her. She forced herself to breathe evenly and slowly. She would have to time this right the first time.

He reacted quickly, but not quickly enough. The knife was never intended to kill or even injure him, it was supposed to momentarily force him to disengage from his target. As he reflexively dodged the thrown object, his musket was no longer on center. She quickly moved in to the close distance. Her left hand hooked on to the barrel of the musket, grabbed it, twisted up and over to the left. While doing so she had stepped into him and punched with all her might the weak point on his forearm. Where his elbow and arm connected. She was rewarded with the faint sound of the bone breaking and the equally faint noise of him grunting in pain.

She quickly yanked the rifle from his loosened fingers and stepped back. Or rather she tried to. As she was leaning out, he slammed the back of his hand into the nape of her neck. Her vision blurred and she stumbled forward. Hard.

She grabbed fistfuls of the ground trying to will her vision back. Her head was blossoming and swirling with pain that made it hard to think and breathe. Get up! You have to get up! She stood on somewhat wobbly legs and turned around to see he had also regained his balance.

"Cute. We'll try that again in the dojo sometime after they stitch my arm back together." He growled angrily.

She smiled fiercely at him.

"Let me know the time and location and I'll be there."

He advanced on her slowly now, more cautious now that she had broken his arm. They circled each other, neither eager to re-engage, both sides looking for an opening. It came when she stumbled somewhat on a piece of the ground. He lunged forward grabbing her throat with his remaining good arm and forcefully applied pressure. The impact of hitting the ground had dazed her and knocked all the air from her lungs. Air she was rapidly running out of. She brought her forearms down on his wrist attempting to break the hold, but all she did was cause him to grip tighter. He lifted her neck and head up and then slammed her back down on the ground. His teeth were bared into a feral smile and there was spittle on his lips. He leaned in close to whisper in her ear.

"You know sweetheart, I want you to know, I really did mean it when I said you looked good on your knees. Its shame Major Haddock was there or we would have some fun you and I. Alas, your corpse will be an excellent path back into his good graces."

She looked at him, dying, her brain screaming for oxygen, and she remembered him. I'm going to be killed by this, this drunk arrogant little shit! In a flash of anger, she kneed him just below the ribcage. He snarled and jerked some, but didn't let go. So she did it again and again. On the third try, she felt something give and he gasped in pain. His grip lessened on her throat and she used the opportunity to give him an open-palmed strike to the windpipe. Gaging, he backed off her. She leaned over to her right to the debris she had tripped over, it was the bayonet that had been attached to his rifle. Grabbing it, she scrambled to her knees and gave him a backward kick that returned him to the ground. She quickly climbed on top of him and pinned him in place, as soon as she did though, he began to buck wildly. She savagely punched him in the broken rib, eliciting a howl of pain from him. While he was momentarily distracted, she brought the knife down.

He was injured, but he wasn't down for the count yet. He freed and bought up his good arm to block her forearm and knife a few inches from his face. They stayed locked like that, in power of wills to see who would break first. She felt him attempting to flip her over so she kneed him again in his side. Using the window of opportunity, she leaned back and then dropped all her weight back down on her knife arm. It bucked and plunged the tip into his neck, near his carotid artery. He sputtered in pain as his blood began to trickle out of his wound. While struggling she caught his eye, and what she saw in there gave her pause. She expected to see anger or hate, but instead, all she saw was fear and panic. He started kicking and thrashing underneath her with renewed vigor. Damnit! She yelled and did the action again, this time the knife sank half way in. He began to buck wildly, like a wounded animal desperate to escape. This caused the knife to slip and gash even deeper. The blood was surging out rapidly now, it was coating her arms and hair. It soaked his clothes and stained hers as well. She could see the fear in his eyes turn into morbid despair. He gurgled something unintelligible and she was surprised to find out she was crying. Soon his jerks became more sporadic and lacked the energy they had prior. His breathing was wet and haggard. He coughed blood, blood that speckled on her face. Then, he was still. With a last desperate look at her and a shuddering heave, his head lolled to the side. She watched as the life, as the life faded from his eyes. Leaving her alone in a suddenly quiet forest.

She crab-walked backward and sat there, a few feet from the body of the person she had just killed. She started trembling, no, shaking. She tried to stand but fell back down to her knees. It took her a moment to realize she was sobbing now. The tears were blurring her vision, her throat screamed in agony from the abuse it suffered, and it was hard to breathe. Her clothes, hair, and face were covered in blood. His blood. It was thick and the metallic smell was invading her nose, tinting her vision red. It was still warm and she could feel it trickling through her fingers. Her stomach writhed with a sudden and overwhelming sense of nausea and revulsion.

"Oh, God!" the words tore out of her mouth in between the sobs racking her body.

The urge to vomit coursed through her and she was, again, on her hands and knees. This time violently discharging everything she had eaten that day.