Part 2 begins! Enjoy and review honestly :)

"Now, when I try to assault you, block me like this." I held the knife perpendicular to my sword in her hand. She copied me straightaway. "Hang on- keep your elbows down. It'll only give your enemy, this case, me- and advantage."

Ziio swung the heavy weapon towards my chest. Instinctively I blocked her off. And again. And again, and again. Clink, clink, clink.

"Good. Very good! Now I'm going to try it on you."

"This is easier than I thought," she breathed. "Perhaps I was wrong."

I smiled. "See? Just open your mind. You may surprise yourself."

Isn't this wonderful? I am with Ziio, she is trusting me...and enjoying my company!
Why are you thinking like this, Haytham? Like you think she matters to you.
Well, she does.
But since when has one Mohawk woman, no matter how beautiful, made any huge difference to a Templar?
Right now.
Stop this insolence! This is no way for you to behave!

Too busy staring into her face in wonder, my reactions were slow as the tip of her blade made a thin slit in my coat. I recovered myself nimbly and jabbed the knife at the much larger blade she held. Ziio stopped at once.

"Sorry!" she gasped. "I didn't mean to tear your jacket."

"That's...fine. You're doing well!" I heard the words leave my lips. I dared not glimpse her blazing brown eyes for a split second.

She blushed slightly, but switched back to normal at once. My spirit sank a little. "So...surely with a larger blade I can knock the knife out of your hand?"

"Exactly. Try it now."

And sure enough, after a few clunks of the two sharp parts colliding, Ziio's knife went tumbling out of my hand and through the air almost in slow motion. It sailed past the sun and winked with a blinding reflection of the light.

"Not bad! Not bad at all! We'll make a swordswoman out of you yet!" I applauded.

She tilted her head challengingly. "You sound surprised?"

I shook my head. "Forgive me. I should not be by now." I bent down to retrieve her knife for her. Gratefully she took it back, shrugging.

"I still think I prefer my knife, though. But...well, I guess I know now that I am safe using a sword!"

"As you wish. One more duel, come on! Thomas will be back soon."

Even as her wrist flicked madly, Ziio was never quite unable to overcome my sword. We had swapped our weapons back so that we were both comfortable before laughing our way through another lively play-fight. The sun gleaming onto the steel, the rhythmic clink of the swords and the melody of Ziio's sweet laughter blocked out all negativity. This was everything I loved: swordplay, with a woman whose company I enjoyed, on a relaxed afternoon like this. I was a feather in the breeze without a care in the world.

After we became fatigued, we sat in the middle of the grass (despite the slowly thickening snow).

"I was trained to use a sword at the age of six," I told her. I was absent-mindedly picking daisies out of the grass and twirling them in my hand.

Ziio looked up in interest. "Six? That's a little extreme, is it not? Why would you have need for such a talent at that age?"

I shrugged. "Who knows? I suppose...Father wanted me to be an extreme fighter!" We laughed in beautiful harmony. But only for a moment: Ziio now resumed picking blades of grass from the bank we sat on. As she reached down, a sickening sight made my stomach lurch.

My goodness, how did she get that gash in her arm?
It looks like the work of a knife!
Oh no. No! Is she alright?!
Stop worrying. This is Ziio we are talking about.

I lost control of my senses. My hand reached out and gently touched the long red scar across the top of her arm. She flinched and stopped what she was doing, making my pulse rate double.

"Ziio," I trembled, concerned, "How did you obtain this?"

"What? This?" she pulled her arm out of my grasp. "It is nothing."

"It does not look like nothing to me. Someone attacked you, didn't they? Didn't they?"

"I told you. It is noth-"

"Ziio." I adopted a grave tone of voice. This time she did not struggle when I re-gripped her arm. "Please. Who did this to you?" I set my gaze straight into her deep pupils. I stroked the cut gently with my thumb. At last, defeated, she sighed. "Alright. It was a redcoat. Perhaps one of those who opposed you in the tavern."

"What?!" Anger surged through every inch of my body. "Where? When? Was he alone?"

A little irritated, she replied: "Not far outside Lexington. He was alone, yes. He must've seen from a distance that I was Mohawk. The man was very young, though. About twenty years old, I guessed. I was walking past and he grabbed me, holding a knife to my throat."

"My god," I gasped. "What happened? How did you get away?"

"He said something along the lines of 'I've seen you here before, have I not?' which led me to believe that he was present when we were eavesdropping in the tavern. He began to taunt me and made very malicious remarks about my people. At last he finished with: 'And where's that English lover of yours?'"

Ignore, ignore, ignore!
Why?
Because it is not true. You are NOT thinking that the redcoat was right.
But I am. 'Lover' is what he said.
Haytham! Such immaturity! Stop this! Think of something else, quickly!

I blocked out the imaginary sounds in my head. "Yes?"

"I punched him and managed to writhe myself free. He was no skilled fighter; he lashed out with his dagger madly as I made to escape- but the tip of it slashed through my skin as a result."

"Ziio, I'm sorry!" My voice rose more and more. "I never meant for this you to go through this! He was threatening you for me, wasn't he?"

"Not exactly. Remember, it is The Bulldog's men who want my people out of this land. Why I am not quite sure."

My throat dried in an instant. I knew exactly why Braddock wanted the Mohawks out of the land. The very same reason the Templars wanted them out...secretly. Fear suddenly swept over my head before you could say 'Mohawk'. What if...what if, sometime in the future, my men proposed to be rid of the tribes living on this land?

"But...I am still sorry. This is partly my fault." I did not dare mention why. "It won't happen again. I promise you."

Ziio must have been about to say something. She froze with her mouth open, looking surprised up at me. That was before she smiled coyly, and said: "Thank you."

Keep smiling like that. It's pretty.
STOP THIS!
I can't. I know I must...
Then stop thinking like a poet and think like a gentleman!
But I can't. Not while she's here.

In spite of myself I kept on talking, to keep the grin on her face. "No, really. If I see him then I will...have a little word with him. I care for your safety on this expedition just as much as my own."

She tipped her head so her thick hair deliberately obscured her face. "Thank you."

Immediately feeling hot under the collar, I changed the subject. "Have you treated the wound?"

Her head tilted back to normal. "Yes. I think you have seen that I can heal bleeding injuries."

"True. It's such a deep wound though! Are you sure it'll be alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

Just as I was about to say: 'Well, I ought to be getting on with logging', Thomas' voice bounded across the clearing.

"Oi! 'Aytham!"

I jerked upright, snatching myself off the ground and brushing off my cloak.

"Yes?"

I could see him in the distance. He called out to me again.

"Come back 'ere! Wha' you doin' over there?"

Ziio laughed softly at the man's frustration. "I guess you had better get going."

"Wish me luck," I breathed.

"Thank you for teaching me how to duel."

"No worries," I replied. "I hope I will see you again soon."

With a spring in my step, I marched towards my accomplice cheerily.

"Wha' you smilin' at?" he asked when I had reached him.

"Oh, nothing," I lied, though I was inwardly beaming from ear to ear.

OK, Some of you have requested more drama, but realistically. Keep reviewing and I will see what I can do! :) Thanks for reading :)