Hi guys! Hope you liked the last chapter! Another installment today - enjoy!

I woke up gradually, rolling over to find myself in a bed. It was a makeshift one - not luxurious, but comfortable enough to sleep on - it beat kipping on the rubble of the old church in New York.

I rolled off the bed, looking at for my shirt, which was nowhere to be seen. I groaned as I sat up, tying up my laces of my boots, groaning as I had to bend down. I rubbed my ribs and sighed, then began to stand up, looking around for my shirt.

"I threw your shirt out." I looked around at the Scottish voice - a woman stood there. She had a homely smile on a fresh face. She seemed to be the age of a mother - a good few years older than myself, although she held herself like she was a lot older. "There was blood and tears all over it - it was like you've been in the wars." She smiled, then thought for a moment. "You look awful young - you weren't in the war were you?" I shook my head.

"Where am I?"

"Davenport Homestead." She said simply.

"The what?" She smiled.

"It's a small community. You look better now." I groaned, rubbing my head, feeling the scar across my lip. "I'm Diana." I nodded. "What's your name?"

"O'Connell."

"What's your Christian name O'Connell?"

"Nathan." She handed me a carved maple oak cup of water - it was cleaner than any I'd ever seen before. I drank it quickly, coughing and grabbing my ribs after I swallowed - my body was riddled with injuries.

"Been in some fights eh Nathan?" I looked down at the scars and bruises across my body, a majority of which were now covered in bandages; the most prominent being the sword wound in my stomach.

"You could say that." I muttered. "How long was I...?"

"A week." I sighed. "You talk a lot in your sleep."

"I do?"

"Well, that's what our Edie said." I furrowed my brow at the mention of the name. "My daughter. She helps me with the sailors sometimes."

"The sailors?"

"At the docks." She explained briefly. "When people are injured, me and our Edie help the doctor." She looked at me for a few seconds, checking to see if I would fall back onto the bed. "Are you well enough to walk?" She asked me. I nodded. "Well, I'll see if Ellen's-"

The door opened to a young girl - she wore a dress similar to her mothers, with her pale complexion, but had darker hair and chestnut hair. She flashed a brilliant smile as she walked in.

"Hello." She smiled. I returned the grin politely, but found no words to say - I was still out of my depth. "Can't you talk?"

"Of course I can talk." I replied.

"Irish." She stated simply. "I told you so mum." Diana rolled her eyes.

"Did you get the clothes?" Edie nodded.

"Ellen had to guess the size." She walked up to me, handing me the shirt and a long coat. I held them up - blue. They looked better then my dyed red shirt - my colours. I nodded.

"Thank you." I then glanced around, noticing my knives had gone. "Where have my knives gone?"

"Oh, they were dashed. I could fetch up Big Dave for you if you fancy?" I shook my head.

"That's not necessary-"

"No, it's no hassle lad." Diana then left, leaving me and Edie alone in the room. Edie smiled, then held up a tray, which happened to have a knife on it beside some bread. I grinned.

"It's fine - I'll pick up some more on my way." I said, pulling on my white shirt and buttoning it up. There was a low hood sewn into the collar, which I pulled up.

"You're leaving?" I nodded.

"I've got things to do."

"What things?" I decided not to answer. "How old are you?" I looked back at her, puzzled. "What?" I rubbed my stubble.

"I... I've never thought about it before..." I scratched my hair, thinking hard. "Quite young I'd reckon?" I saw her lips pull up into a smile. "What?"

"Everyone has an age silly."

"Well, how old are you?" I asked, pulling over the black waistcoat and buttoning it up.

"I'm seventeen." I nodded - okay, so that's what a fifteen-year-old girl looked like.

"So... how old would you reckon I am?" She thought for a moment.

"Not much older. A year or two by my reckoning?"

The thought then struck me - she'd been watching over me while I was sleeping.

"Thanks, by the way. For watching over me - Diana told me." She shrugged.

"It's no hassle." I began to pull on my coat, which was mainly blue, with white stripes, and pulled down the hood. It reminded me of a naval jacket - I groaned. "Is the fit bad?" I looked up at her.

"I look like a patriot." I murmured. She laughed.

"I think you wear it handsomely." She slyly smiled.

"Yeah well..." I shrugged. "Thank you... for everything."

"You can repay me by walking with me." She suggested. I waited a few moments, considering it. "Please?" I relented and nodded, following her outside of the house.

The sun was bright and warm, and I walked through the forest with Edie, who seemed very interested in my life. She was asking me about where I had grown up, how I'd got my scars, and most importantly, why I was dying in the frontier.

"Bar fight gone wrong." I lied. She suspected as much somehow, and moved swiftly on to another subject.

"So, what about your father? What does he do?"

"Not much." I sighed. "He's dead." Her grin faltered.

"I'm sorry..."

"It's been a month." I said quietly.

"How did he...?"

"Die? Killed outside our church. Men showed up trying to make us leave, and when my old man refused, they shot him down." I carried on walking, and soon felt Edie's arm wrap around mine. It felt... strange. First time I'd really been around a girl.

"So, what about your mother?"

"She died when I was quite young." I informed her.

"What part of Ireland do you hail from?"

"I don't. I was born in Boston." I explained. "But, my parents came from Cork, if that's what you're asking." She nodded, taking in all the information. "What about you? Scot right?"

"Edinburgh." She smiled. "We came here when I was very young. My father's a lumberjack. What did your father do?"

"He was... well, he was sort of a... leader."

"A leader?"

"Of a group of us. We lived in the Church." Her eyebrows raised as she realised what I was saying.

"Really? You're part of a gang?"

"Was." I corrected her. "We didn't set about trying to steal... it was just a way of looking out for each other."

"So you were a good gang?" She asked, skeptical.

"We were lead by a priest." I stated, causing her to giggle. "I've convinced you?" She nodded.

"You've convinced me." She confirmed. "So, what will you do when you leave? Go back to Boston?" I shook my head.

"New York."

"With your gang?"

"Yeah." I lied. My gang wasn't the reason I was going back to New York. I was going to kill Wolcott - I would definitely do it this time. He thought I was dead, which meant I had the advantage. Wolcott would die soon - even if it meant I did too.

"You haven't met Connor yet!" Edie finally said. I completely forgot about my revenge, realizing what she was saying.

"Who?" I frowned.

"He owns the Homestead now. After the old man died." I nodded, trying to understand.

"His father?"

"Not in blood." She sighed, looking up at the manor on the hill. "You should meet him!" She said excitedly.

"Oh, I'm not going to stay for that long-"

"No, it's good! He'll have some knives to give you!"

"I don't need any-" She tugged me by the arm through the forest and towards the large red-brick manor on the hill.

As we got to the door, she knocked impatiently on the door. I hung around by the white post, examining an aged slice against it, tracing it with my fingers. I narrowed my eyes, curious as to what had happened here...

"Let's try around the back." Edie said, running off around the house.

"No, we don't have to-" She was already gone. I followed her reluctantly, but as I travelled around to the back, past Edie examining the rooms through the windows, I noticed someone - a figure. He was standing near the cliff behind the manor, overlooking a large lagoon. He was clad in white robes, blue tails and carried a bow and quiver full of arrows.

I moved over towards him, curious about who he was. Could this be Connor?

"Connor?" I asked. The man turned around - he looked like a Spaniard, or maybe Italian. However, the mohawk and the bear claws around his neck told me he was a Native. I'd known a couple in New York as a child - they mostly kept to themselves, out in the frontier.

"I have not seen you around the Homestead before." He stated simply - a soothing sound to his voice.

"Connor! This is Nathan." Edie came over, smiling at me.

"Ah. You look very well."

"Well, I owe it to Diana and Edie." I rubbed the back of my head. I looked Connor up and down, seeing strange tools about him - a pouch with a short blade hanging off a rope, what I thought to be a tomahawk hanging off his belt, and other various pieces of equipment. Just what exactly did Connor do?

"They are very gifted with healing." Connor looked towards Edie. "Thank you Edie." Edie nodded and walked off.

"Wait, Edie! What-"

"Nathan."

"Yes? Wait, how'd you know my name?"

"I have some questions for you." I clenched my fists, ready to fight if I had to. There was something about Connor...

"Sure. Go ahead." He began to pace in front of me.

"You were brought here after being stabbed. I'm curious as to who did so." I shrugged in response. "Was it a doctor?" I paused, narrowing my eyes at Connor. Was he... did he know who Wolcott was?

"Yes." I said finally. Connor nodded.

"I must show you something." He informed me, and lead me back into the house.