Chapter 2: Questions

Two years had gone by since Haytham had left; I didn't think of him nearly as much as I did when he first left. The only reminder I had of him was our son, Ratonhnhaké:ton, who is my pride and joy. He shared my eyes and dark complexion while he had more of Haytham's facial features, like his nose and mouth. Him and I spend lots of time together and most of its away from our village. We take our own trips every so often and sleep out in the woods underneath the stars. It has been a lovely summer to do so too. On hot days we spend our time on the riverbanks; Ratonhnhaké:ton would play in the sand while I'd fish for our lunch, then I would give gentle splashes at him that would make him laugh. He seems to be learning a lot out in the forest, in fact, Ratonhnhaké:ton seems to be able to climb trees better than he can walk at only two years old.

The reason why we leave the village so often is because of the Clan Mother, who is also my mother. She does nothing about the white men that keep moving closer and closer to our boarders, when I keep telling her that we need to do something. It makes me angry that we don't do anything; we need to stand up for our land, otherwise the white men will think that we are weak and take it away from us. More and more my mother and I disagree on things and the majority of my people agree with the Clan Mother rather than me. So in order to relax myself, I enjoy the time with my son alone.

My son surprised me with a question that I didn't think he would ask until he was older, and I would have a better response. Right before we fell asleep, he sat up and put his hands on my side and peaked over my body to see if I was still awake. "Mama?"

"Hmm?" I was nearly asleep we he got my attention; I flipped over so that I lied on my other side and he sat back on his bed.

"Where is papa?" I blinked a couple times and looked over his expression to make sure I knew what he had said. I was really shocked, he never asked about that before. He must have wondered from being with the other children and their families.

I, of course, wouldn't lie to him saying that Haytham was dead or he left because he wanted to; I told myself when Ratonhnhaké:ton was born that I would never teach him that lying is okay. "Your papa had left," I knew that was an awful response and led to more questions.

"Yes, but why?" Ratonhnhaké:ton's eyes were sparkling in the star light and they were hard to resist, you just had to give him a straight answer.

"Well," I was trying to find the right words to tell him, "He lied, Ratonhnhaké:ton, he lied. He lied to me, which made me very upset."

"So he left then?" I nodded my head. "Why?"

I smiled to myself; I always loved children, always questioning the world around them and their curiosity. "I told him too. Lying is not an okay thing to do, and what he did really hurt me."

Ratonhnhaké:ton looked over my face curiously, he was probably wondering if he should keep asking me questions. I wondered what kind of answer he's looking for. "Why did he lie?" He moved closer to my side and lied down by me and I put my arm around him.

I let out a sigh before letting out an answer, "It's a complicated story, and maybe it would be better if I told you when you were older."

"No, no! I'll understand, I promise!" I have to admit, for being nearly two and half years old, Ratonhnhaké:ton is very intelligent and I knew one day he'd be very wise.

I laughed a little and gave him a squeeze, "He took advantage of my kindness to get to get into our sacred cave." I saw Ratonhnhaké:ton's mouth move into an 'o' shape.

I thought maybe he was done with the questions since he'd been quite for five minutes; I was even dozing off again. However, I was wrong; the silence was broken by another question, "Was he a good man?"

"Other than lying, Haytham was a great man," I said in almost a whisper. Staring up into the stars, I wondered if maybe he was doing the same, where ever he might be. From our many nights together, I found out he knew a lot about them and enjoyed to look up into the heavens. "In fact, he saved me from a slaver."

"Really? How'd he do it?" Ratonhnhaké:ton was suddenly full of energy again, "Can you tell me the story?"

I laughed as he began to bounce up and down again, "Another night, I promise."

Suddenly disappointed, he sighed, "alright, you promised though, so you have too."

"Don't worry, I will. Time for bed now though," Ratonhnhaké:ton let out a yawn as I said that. He lied back down on his bed and quickly fell asleep, probably with his father on his mind still. I lied wide awake for a little longer, observing the starts and listening to the crickets. I wondered how my life would be different if Haytham were still here. Would Ratonhnhaké:ton be better off having his father with him?

Haytham Kenway

I've been lying in bed for three months now, with the pain in my chest slowly going away. The three months seemed like blurs, in fact, I didn't even know that much time had passed. Jennifer and Holden had been generous enough to take care of me and nurse me back to health. The wound seemed to be getting better, I was now able to sit up in bed and write in my journal.

Jenny often came in and talked with me to keep me company. It was hard sometimes since we had so little in company. It seemed though that she knew a lot more of Assassins and Templars than I thought she did. She'd often ask if I was going to abandon the Templars now that I know of Father being an Assassin. I kept telling her I wasn't sure. She of course thought I was lying, but I really didn't know. Honestly, if I had the choice, I would stay here in France or return to Queen's Square. However, that wasn't possible. Thinking of the Assassins, and of Father, made me even angrier at Birch, and even more hatred toward him. I wished I had gotten to kill him myself. Birch was the man who turned me to this path, this path I find myself questing more and more.

When Jenny wasn't companying me, I found myself reading my journals, starting with the ones I wrote when I just turned ten. I had three journals total and always kept them in my satchel. The one I was reading was my second. I was near the end of it, rereading my arrival in America. I had written all of this almost four years when I first met Charles, William, Thomas, Benjamin and John. Now for being in Europe again for two years, I was beginning to miss the colonies, I wasn't exactly sure why either; my work led to dead ends and my men weren't always my favorite people to be around. I flipped the page and found the day after my men and I infiltrated Southgate, Benjamin Church killed Silas, and when I first met Ziio...

I reread Ziio's name a hundred times and sighed heavily. I pushed the journal off my lap and turned to look out the window, seeing the ocean that separated us apart. It would be a lie to say that I had forgotten about her. My first year back in Europe, she was all that I thought about, Jenny too of course, but Ziio always seemed to be on my mind. I often think of how stupid I was to lie to her just to see the cave that led me to abandon my work, for now at least.

I placed my journal back into my satchel at my bedside, and flipped the blankets off. I turned my legs and placed them on the floor. Taking a couple deep breaths, I lifted myself off the bed, wincing at the pain. I had to get to the desk to write a letter to Ziio, I knew it was a foolish idea and she probably never get it, and if she did, she'd probably throw in into the fire.

I took very slow step, but once I put the weight back on my foot, there was a sharp pain in my chest and side. I let out a loud grunt and fell to the floor. Jenny ran in moments later and saw me on the floor in pain. "What the hell are you doing?" She looked like an angry mother with her hands on her hips. Jenny put her arms around me, trying to avoid my wound, and pulled me back to the side of my bed, where I then leaned back against it. I breathed deeply and put my head on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath. "You knew that the doctor ordered you to stay in bed for at least another two months!" I still didn't say anything to her. "Let me ask again, what the devil where you doing?"

I moved my arms so that my elbows were on the bed and then I was going to pull myself back up. As I was trying to, Jenny slapped my arm, "I'll get Holden to help you, I wouldn't be able to pull you up."

I nodded my head, "I had to write a letter."

"A letter? To whom?" Jenny had been very nosy lately, and her asking me who I was writing to ticked me off.

"A friend." Jenny looked at me funny I don't think she believed me. Holden came into the room before she could ask any more questions.

"Alright, Haytham?" He and Jenny both walked over to me and lifted me up off the floor and helped me back onto my bed.

"Oh, never been better," I replied to him sarcastically. He gave me a smile in return, nodded and was off again. I was curious to what he was up too, since he didn't talk much anymore, due to his incident I believe. I pulled the sheets back over my legs and took another look out the window. Jenny was still there, looking at me.

"Would you like some parchment and a quill?" she finally asked.

I turned to her, "If you wouldn't mind." She walked over to the desk and fumbled through it to find a piece of parchment and quill and brought it over to me. "Thank you," I told her when she handed it to me.

"Just ask next time before you hurt yourself even more." She smiled and I did too and gave her a nod. As she exited said, "don't get ink on the blankets, I don't fancy washing them out."

I then grabbed my journal back out and used it for a hard surface to write my letter to Ziio on.

A/N: Sorry that this is kind of another "set-up" chapter, next week's chapter will start more into the story. And I know that Connor's speech and word choice is pretty advance for a two and a half year old…but yeah, so just go along with it, please! Haha. Thanks for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing! :)