Chapter 7
14 January 1784 – Davenport Homestead, Massachusetts State
Oni:dä was worried.
Not seeing her husband due to his work was one thing.
But having him disappear entirely with no word was another altogether.
On the first day she thought it was normal, and went about her usual tasks of making sure everything was clean, going to the farm to give the food scraps to the pigs, collecting medicinal plants in the forest, and clearing the snow and ground form around the manor. A The man named Norris had come in the afternoon to see Ratonhnhaké:ton, but after looking around for a while with no luck he had just picked up some papers addressed to him on the desk and said his goodbyes to Oni:dä without a worry.
Then at night she had waited to see if Ratonhnhaké:ton would come back before making food for the both of them. After he didn't return Oni:dä had eaten her portion and then left his on the table for whenever he came back. The food she had left for him in the evening was always there untouched when she woke up the next morning. This didn't really concern her, as he never usually ate the food she left out, she really just left it in case he decided to eat it one day.
Oni:dä's concern was with the candle upstairs. For the past few nights she had lit them and then woken in the morning to find that they had all melted into stubs, she would then look over to see that he wasn't in the room again. After one day she hadn't thought about it.
But it had been almost three days now.
After walking into the kitchen to find the same plate of food she had left out before, she gathered it up and put it in the basket she had woven the week before and made her way out of the manor towards the farm, as was her usual route, to give the pigs the scraps.
Walking along the dirt road with no one around, Oni:dä was left with only her own thoughts for company. She had tried these past few days not to feel worried and had purposely tried to look out for him during the day, but she had never once seen him. As the days he was gone had begun to increase, her worry increased with them.
Walking past the building Ratonhnhaké:ton had told her was the Homesteader's church, Oni:dä tried to continue to convince herself that there was nothing to be worried about, telling herself he was just busy and that's why she hadn't seen him.
But her own imagination gnawed away at her, maybe he'd gotten hurt somewhere when he had gone out in the evening to scout, or what if something else had happened to him? With these thoughts churning in her mind, she unconsciously began to move faster down the road.
"Good morning Needa" A voice called out. She turned to see the old man from the church waving at her. He walked over to the fence and looked at the basket in her hands. "Going to Prudence and Warren's to feed the pigs?"
Oni:dä nodded and smiled at him. She liked the old man. He understood that she had difficulty with the language he spoke, and he would speak simply and slowly without making her feel stupid for not knowing his language, as the other colonials she had met at the markets long ago had done.
"Well I'll see you later then." The old man smiled and began to continue going his own way towards the church.
"Ah excuse me." Oni:dä said, he turned back to her somewhat surprised that she was actually speaking to him. She struggled with the words for a moment. "Have you seen Ratonhnhaké:ton?"
The old man frowned at her. "Have I seen ratoon?- radonga- hay? I'm sorry my dear, but I don't know that word."
Oni:dä was surprised. This man definitely knew her husband, she had seen them speaking together before. She tried again.
"Ratonhnhaké:ton, my Tiakení:teron" She had forgotten the word for husband in his language so had settled for her own language. But this didn't help, he just looked more confused.
"I am sorry, but I don't know what that means." He looked just as helpless about the situation as she felt. She faked a smile and managed to tell him it was okay and quickly returned to walking down the path.
Making her way to the farm she fed the pigs and asked the woman named Prudence, who she recognised from the wedding ceremony, then same question she had asked the old man at the church.
But this didn't help either, Prudence also didn't seem to remember who Ratonhnhaké:ton was and when she called her husband over he had not known either. At this point Oni:dä had quickly said her farewells to the two, and made her way to the Manor starting to seriously worry about the fact that everyone she had met had not seemed to know her husband.
For a brief moment, she considered that they all could be playing a cruel trick on her. But she shook her head. These people weren't like the others that she'd seen before in the towns near her village. The people at the Homestead were all kind and treated each other like family. They were also trusted by Ratonhnhaké:ton and Oni:dä trusted them too.
The most likely scenario she could think of was that he had got hurt in the forest. It wasn't impossible, and the more she thought about the more likely it seemed. She had heard stories in her village that hunters hadn't come back because they were attacked and dragged away by a bear or a lion.
Crunching through the snow Oni:dä made it back to the manor and putting the basket on the table she turned around and grabbed the buckskin that hung near the door. She threw it over her usual clothing and once again made her way back out of the house and into the surrounding forest. Trudging in the thick snow she looked for him and any possible tracks or signs of an attack but to no avail. She was so engrossed in her task that she didn't even notice that the sun had risen high in the sky now, nor how far she had wandered.
It had just started to snow again when Oni:dä heard footsteps approaching, she began to move quickly towards the sound hoping that it was the person she was looking for. She turned around corner only to come face to face with an astonished Myriam.
"Oh, Needa! What are you doing at this side of the forest?" Was the surprised question from Myriam. "It not safe here, I saw a wolf pack near here not a day ago."
"I am looking for Ratonhnhaké:ton" She asked Myriam hopeful that she of all people might know where Ratonhnhaké:ton was. Myriam after all, was one of her husband's close friends, and was one of the people most likely to know where he might have gone.
"Is that a type of plant? Would you like me to help you look?"
Oni:dä heart dropped at this kind, but useless, response. She didn't know what else to do and the panic was beginning to set in that she would never find Ratonhnhaké:ton again and that he had been hurt by the wolf pack that Myriam had mentioned. She thanked Myriam and began once again to frantically look in the surrounding area.
Myriam, who was beginning to worry about the Onondaga woman who had married her friend, now stayed by her side and tried to convince her to go back home and stay safe from the wolves.
But Oni:dä refused and continued to run around panicked, looking for any sign of Ratonhnhaké:ton, and Myriam began to worry about the native woman's mental state. It was, in this situation, that they were found by another person.
"What is going on Myriam?" A man's voice broke through Myriam's near constant pleading for Oni:dä to go home. They both turned to look and were met by Norris's confused face.
"Norris!" Myriam said with some relief and ploughed through the snow towards him and began speaking in an agitated way. Oni:dä couldn't hear what she was saying but the way that Myriam kept pointing in Oni:dä's direction made no question about who they were talking about.
But Oni:dä didn't care, she needed to keep searching for Ratonhnhaké:ton. Norris soon came over to her side with Myriam in tow.
"Needa, could you tell me what you are looking for?" Norris said kindly. Oni:dä hesitated.
Was there even a point? None of the other people at the Homestead seemed to know who Ratonhnhaké:ton was. Would this man be any different? She steeled herself for another failure but answered him all the same.
"Ratonhnhaké:ton has gone." She said slowly with only a shred of hope that he might know what she was talking about. Norris frowned and looked thoughtful for a moment.
"Radon-?" he muttered under his breath trying to figure out the words she was saying. Oni:dä tried again one last time.
"Ratonhnhaké:ton, my Tiakení:teron." This time she pointed at herself as she spoke the last two words. Norris once again looked thoughtful for a moment and Oni:dä began to hope that he might understand what she was trying to saying to him.
"Needa," he began slowly, "Are you speaking about your husband?"
Husband! That was the word in their language, the important one that she had forgotten.
Oni:dä could have cried with relief. She held onto that piece of information and focused all of her attention on Norris, completely missing Myriam's confused look.
"My husband Ratonhnhaké:ton" She said holding onto to Norris's arm, "Have you seen him?"
Norris now looked less confused but still just as worried at Oni:dä's state.
"Has he been gone for a while now?" He asked. Oni:dä nodded and he sighed putting a hand over his eyes for a moment before looking back and smiling. "He's probably away on business, there is no need to be looking out here for him."
Ratonhnhaké:ton wasn't lost or dead, he was just away from the village on business. Oni:dä didn't know why she hadn't thought of it before. Sinking to the ground in relief, she put her head in her hands as the fear and imaginations that had crowded her thoughts throughout the day now vanished. Myriam and Norris both moved forward at this in astonishment and, after reassuring the both of them that she was fine, she thanked them and made her way back to the Manor.
If Ratonhnhaké:ton was away because of business then he would probably be back soon. The men at her village were only away for two to three days, which meant that her husband would probably be back in the next few hours.
But as the hours passed and the evening progressed, Oni:dä again became more anxious as Ratonhnhaké:ton never arrived back. She was making food in the kitchen when she heard the door creak as someone entered, she looked around with a hopeful look.
Her face fell as both Myriam and Norris both entered the room. She smiled at them but their joint expressions of pity showed that they had seen the crestfallen look on her face.
"He hasn't come back yet?" Myriam asked, Oni:dä shook her head.
"Not yet." Both Myriam and Norris sighed and turned as if to leave. Knowing that she didn't want to be alone right now Oni:dä quickly spoke again. "Would you eat with me?"
Norris and Myriam looked at each other before coming and sitting at the table with her.
"Thank you for the offer," Norris said lightly, "Any chance to avoid Myriam's cooking is a good one." Myriam nudged him in the ribs with a small laugh as Oni:dä passed them a bowl of food each, to which they accepted gratefully.
"So Needa, what did you say your husband's name is?" Myriam asked after she had swallowed some food.
"Ratonhnhaké:ton"
"I'm not even going to try and pronounce that right now." She leaned back in her chair and whistled. "Who knew that Connor had another name?"
"Connor?" Oni:dä questioned with come confusion. Myriam nodded.
"That's the name I've always known him by, and what everyone here at the Homestead calls him."
That explained why the people that Oni:dä had spoken to that morning, had acted like they didn't know who she was talking about. Ratonhnhaké:ton had a different name that he used amongst the colonials, and she cursed herself for never noticing.
"Actually…" Myriam turned to look at Norris with a raised eyebrow as she seemed to remember something, "You didn't seem that surprised when Needa said the name, and you actually managed to figure out what she was talking about."
Norris shrugged.
"I've known for a while that Connor wasn't his first name. I just didn't know what his real one was."
"You could have at least told me Connor wasn't his name. What if we've offended him?"
"I've had this conversation with him before. It doesn't make a difference, he's still the Connor we all know and love" Norris said nonchalantly, seemingly unconcerned about his mildly perturbed wife. "Besides who am I to say what a person should be called when I didn't want to be called by my real name"
Myriam choked on her food at his words and Oni:dä quickly brought her a cup of water. After she had stopped choking Myriam looked at Norris in disbelief and he winced as if he had said something he really didn't want her to find out about.
"Norris isn't your real name?!" Myriam demanded. "What's your real name then?"
"My birth name is Maurice."
"Why did you never tell me?!"
"Because it wasn't important." He protested feebly.
"'Because it wasn't-'" Myriam spluttered, "Norris we're married!" After a brief moment the anger seemed to leave her and she sighed.
"I don't have the energy to think about this now. But-," Myriam poked Norris in the chest and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "We will be speaking about this later."
Norris gulped, and clearing his throat he turned to looked at Oni:dä, who had been watching this exchange with some amusement, quickly changed the conversation.
"Anyway. I'm sure Connor will be back in no time" he said to her "He always comes back no matter how long he's been away." Myriam nodded in agreement at her husband's words.
"Connor usually doesn't tell people when he leaves." She said with a int of irritation. "I'm sure he'll be back in no time."
"Is he- away long?" Oni:dä asked slowly making sure she said the correct words. Her dinner companions looked at each other again, both seemingly unwilling to answer the question, Myriam hesitated before answering.
"Not all the time." She said rather helplessly. "But he does sometimes go, and we don't see him for a few months…"
Seeing the look of dismay pass over Oni:dä's face Norris quickly spoke up.
"However, most of the time he will come back within a week." He said encouragingly patting her hand from across the table.
Oni:dä's heart sank. They didn't know when he would return. No one could give her the answer she needed most at the moment.
They sat together for a while. Myriam and Norris asked her questions about her life and tried to lift her spirits. But while she answered their questions and smiled at their interactions with each other, each of them knew and understood that her mind was elsewhere. As the sky grew darker they said their goodbyes and, promising to visit tomorrow, they made their way back to their own home leaving Oni:dä alone in the large house.
She was sad once they left. After having grown up with a whole village constantly around she liked having the company. Being left in a huge building alone was jarring in comparison to her life in the Onondaga village.
Oni:dä made her way up the stairs into the bedroom and attempted to sleep. She tossed and turned in the bed for a few hours unable to fall asleep. Her mind whirled with endless worries about when her husband would come back, or even if he would return. Even though Myriam and Norris had said he would come back eventually, she still couldn't be comforted by their words.
After staring at the canopy above the bed for a while Oni:dä got up, she grabbed the furs from the bed and the lit candle before padding down the wooden stairs towards the kitchen. Sitting down at the kitchen table she placed the lit candle in front of her and drew the furs closer around her.
The room was cold and the flickering of the candle made dark shadows dance across the walls. Noises came from outside as the night dragged on. But none of them were ever Ratonhnhaké:ton returning.
But she still stayed sat in the kitchen and waited. Wide awake and left to her own thoughts in the otherwise empty Manor.
15 January 1784 – Johnson Hall, Johnstown
Connor slowly walked up to the house that he hadn't seen in over a decade.
It looked the same as it had back then, the white manor with is green shutters with the two other brick buildings that surrounded it. It had all been kept with the upmost care, Connor had half expected it to have become decrepit through the abandonment after Johnson's death.
But there it still stood in all its glory with people bustling about, going about their daily tasks in the fading light.
The Johnson Hall truly was a remarkable place.
He avoided the people as much as possible as he moved from between them looking around for Johnson's wife. He had asked for Dobby to keep eyes and ears open for news of Johnson's mohawk wife Molly, but she had never had any success. The only information they had found was that not long after William Johnson's death she had left with no trace. He had begun to wonder if they would ever be able to find her.
A group had gathered in front of the main house and he made his way over. As he neared the cluster of people, he could hear a woman sharply giving orders. Making his way over to the voice he soon spotted the owner, who was in the middle of all the bustle by a table covered in papers.
She was an older Mohawk woman with greying hair, with wrinkles that were beginning to show on her face. She was covered in furs to keep out the cold as she spoke to workers in the chill January evening. A younger mohawk man stood by her side writing what she said in the book he held as she directed where the food should go or what parts of the house needed fixing.
Connor took a deep breath and walked determinedly towards the table. As he came closer, they heard his footsteps and looked up from what they were doing. His eyes met the older woman's and a look of painful recognition passed over her face.
She knew who he was already.
The man stepped out from behind the table and walked forward to block Connor's way, with a look of distrust on his angular face. His stance already in a position to fight if the occasion demanded it.
"Who are you and what is your business here?" he inquired of the taller Assassin. Before Connor could answer the woman spoke with the faintest hint of panic in her voice.
"George come away from him."
"But Mother-"
"Come away my child." She walked in between the two and gently pushed George back towards the table. Connor had the feeling she was purposely trying to put a safe distance between him and her son.
"You stay and overlook the last of the arrivals, I will talk to our visitor."
George hesitated for a moment looking as if he was going to argue. But he relented with a last mistrustful glance in Connor's direction and walked back to the table and began to talk to the workers. The woman beckoned for Connor to follow her as she walked towards the house. He followed as she made her way into the house to a dark parlour. She lit the candles by the fireplace and then sat in a chair by the window.
"I take it you are Molly Brant?" He asked her, not really needing the answer.
"I am." She gestured to the chair opposite her own, "Please sit Connor."
This confirmed his suspicions that she already knew who he was. He sat in the chair she had pointed to and spoke.
"I have been trying to find you-"
"I no longer live in this country. After the house was seized by the Colonials I moved to the English settlement in Ontario. I managed to purchase this house again from Silas Talbot last autumn, he was more than happy to be rid of it, he never cared for the place," she looked around the peeling walls with some disgust, "Leaving my husband's hard work to ruin."
"Will you go back to Ontario?"
"After I make sure that this home is well cared for and truly becomes my husband's legacy then I will return there."
Molly leaned over and pushed the shutter. The room filled with the dim light of evening sun and the bustle from the courtyard became louder. She motioned for Connor to come and look. Connor moved towards the window and looked out onto the courtyard.
The people below moved at a swift rate, and George Johnson stood in the place his mother had been directing people, he occasionally called out orders and directing the final boxes into the red brick buildings.
"These people" Molly said gesturing to the crowd, "They used to work here whilst my husband was alive. As soon as they found out that I had bought the Hall the ones that could came back."
"The ones that could?" Connor took his eyes away from window to look at Molly. She nodded.
"The day they blamed us for being Loyalist, they forced my family out of our home. But they also blamed any others who were associated with us."
"But none of you had done anything wrong." Connor protested.
"That didn't matter to them. Some of the workers had the same thoughts as you and protested against the removal." Molly looked away from the window and drew the furs closer to her. "They killed them where they stood, the rest fled in terror and the bodies were tossed into unmarked graves."
Connor looked back to the courtyard. He was horrified. Once he had killed Johnson, he had thought that the people had gladly left and had abandoned the place without a caring if it came to rot and ruin. To find out now that he had left this trail of undeserved pain and suffering was another painful circumstance that was caused by his past actions. Connor moved back to the chair opposite the Mohawk woman and they sat there in silence for a moment whilst Connor struggled to find the words to say.
What could he say? He had ruined so many people's lives when he had hoped to help them.
Sacrifice the Templars to save the many. That's what Achilles had taught him, and so that's what he had done. He had believed in the method. But as he saw the consequences of the actions he took, looking at these many lives he had ruined, he wasn't sure anymore.
"I cannot take back what I have done." He said in a low voice breaking the silence, "But I am sorry for the pain that I have caused you and your family."
There was another moment of silence before Molly finally spoke.
"Do you know what we called him in the language of our people Connor?" She asked looking up at him with tired eyes.
Connor shook his head unable to utter a sound. He hadn't known much about the man apart from he was a Templar and that he needed to be removed to help the Assassin cause and to help his village. Tears began to shine in the aged woman's face.
"Warraghiyagey. You know what this means?"
"'A man who undertakes great things.'" He translated hoarsely. William Johnson had been loved by many people, and he had helped many people. He was known about as a great man and his death was still mourned by many.
So many people had relied on Johnson and he had ruined that with one angry moment. He'd been so focused on stopping the Templars that he'd never known or bothered to find out what the true consequences would be. He had seen Johnson aim a gun at one of the chief's heads and had seen red, this action alone had confirmed to Connor, at the time, that William Johnson needed to die for the greater good. The man had done wrong and he had needed to be stopped.
So Connor had killed him. He had been such a fool back then thinking that a death could solve any problem.
She needed to know. He had to at least give her the reason why he had ended Johnson's life.
"He was forcing the chiefs to accept his plan. He was taking away their freedom." He said quietly. That was all he could say without going into detail about the ongoing Templar and Assassin war.
"I know what kind of a man he was."
"Then you understand why I did what I had to do." At this she shook her head.
"He may have had made mistakes. But the good he did far outweighs the bad in my mind."
"He nearly killed the Haudenosaunee-"
"I know what he tried to do before you put an end to his life. I am no stranger to his faults. You may have hated him, but I loved him." She interrupted him sharply, Connor stayed silent as she continued. "You may think me selfish and mistaken, but I can't help but wonder if life would have been better if he had continued to live, even if his method was wrong."
Connor didn't respond. It was the same question he had been asking himself for many years now.
Molly continued.
"I forgive you Connor, I understand why you did what has been done and I am grateful that you came, because now I understand your motive. Your intentions were noble."
Connor started and looked up at her. He hadn't expected forgiveness, he had just wanted to apologise. Molly didn't notice his sudden start as she had once again looked out the window, unwilling to look him in the eyes.
"But I cannot trust you. I sent my son George away from you because I feared you might do the same to him that you did to my husband. I have lost too much of my family to both you and the war. I couldn't bear to lose another."
Each word she spoke to him felt like a blow.
"I understand." He said quietly. She looked back at him with tears now flowing freely down her cheeks.
"Never come in front of my family again Connor."
He bowed his head.
Her words made Connor's blood run cold. Although being forgiven was more than he had expected he still felt hollow inside. He stood up and carefully took the item he had been carrying out of one of the pouches on his belt. He walked towards the table that was by the side the crying widow.
"I thought this would be better left with his family." He carefully placed on the small table William Johnson's beadwork that he had taken from the dead man years ago, as a memento of a task complete. Molly reached a shaking hand out and picked it up, she clasped it to her chest and cradled the item as if it was precious to her.
Connor now only had one thing left to say.
"No life should be seen as a trophy to others, no matter what they have done. I am sorry."
At this Molly's composure broke and her sobs grew louder. Connor watched on for a moment, he had nothing he could say that could alleviate her pain, and she had no wish to speak to her husband's murderer anymore.
He turned and left the room. The loud heart-wrenching sobs echoed in his head long after he had left Johnson Hall.
He never stepped foot there again.
I'm back. I know it's been a while and i really have no good excuse for that. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, if you did remember to comment! I love reading them (Thanks LilyQuix)
Fun fact: Molly Brant and George Johnson were real people if you want to go check them out.
