AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am SO SO SO sorry for my enormous gap between updates. If you've lost interest then I understand: it's been two weeks, for goodness' sake! I did post a video on my YouTube channel apologising but I doubt many of you have seen my channel unless it was on my profile! Anyway, enjoy and despite revision/exams, I will try my best to update more often.

ZIIO

It was clear that Haytham still underestimated me. I rolled my eyes as I closed the inn door and headed for my horse. I could see that he wanted to say something, but the only words that slipped from his tongue were: "How did you...?"

I certainly hoped that he hadn't had too much to drink. I didn't fancy the idea of being the only sober woman on the mission. Though I knew I was in fact, the only woman on this mission. I needed to focus (especially if I was dealing with that drunkard.)

I rode for the Frontier with a forceful determination playing across my face. I knew this was not going to be entertaining, but as any good leader should, I tried to cover up my disinclination.

On the plus side, the lush green trees and pollinated air were beginning to emerge on the horizon as I galloped. No more stench of metal; no more murky streets and dense crowds lingering in my path like herds of wild beasts. My muscles relaxed as a summer breeze sailed through my hair: I was home.

When I dismounted, people from the Abenaki, Lenape and Shawnee tribes were waiting for me. A bald man in a green tunic approached. I recognised him as the Shawnee leader.

"Kaniehtí:io," he said in my own language, "We have made all preparations that you requested. Many of our men are in position; they await orders from the Englishmen."

I nodded in gratitude. "Good. Tell the others that the Englishmen will be here soon, and ask the other tribes to begin basic preparations also."

He dipped his head, before turning around and sprinting down the steep hill, bellowing instructions to men who supposedly stood on the hill below.

Well, everything looks like it's in order. Now we just need Haytham.

HAYTHAM

"I see you've been busy," I remarked as I walked to join Ziio.

Perhaps she was slightly vexed about me not visiting, because she ignored me. "All these men are from many different tribes," she said, getting straight down to business, "united in their desire to see Braddock sent away."

I bowed my head to three Mohawk men, each in different clothing to one another.

"The Abenaki, the Lenape, Shawnee..." as Ziio spoke their tribal names, the men eyed me suspiciously. Perhaps I seemed uncomfortable in the dense forest air, or the royal blue clothing which I wore. Either way it was clear I didn't belong.

A silence heavier than the humid atmosphere followed. "And you?" I asked, turning to face her. "Who do you stand for?"

A thin smile played across her face. "Myself."

Myself. Was she hinting that she'd been lonely for the past few months? Oh, why do women have to drop hints? It itched my nerves more than the blooming mosquitoes buzzing around my head.

I felt the need to say something; to apologise for my absence or to make myself useful. As Ziio and I were not alone, I settled on being useful.

"What would you have me do?"

Those brown eyes which I had missed so sorely met my own. But they were not giving a shimmering or tender gaze: more of an opaque, rigid stare. Had Ziio lost all trust in me? A sinking sensation made me fall deeper. What if, while I was away, she'd been building up her iron-hard outer layer again? Oh god, not this again. It was tricky enough the first time round.

But the words she said were calm: "We will help the others to prepare." With that perfectly clear, she turned on her heel and began to march down the precipitous hill. "Follow," she ordered.

It was apparent that Ziio had some sort of grudge against me, so I decided that by working diligently I would redeem myself. Thomas and I set about building tall barricades with other Mohawks and preparing weapons.

"Benjamin was right, you know. It is too god-damned hot," moaned Hickey.

On this occasion I could not agree with him more. I sighed. "I know. But we must work, no matter the climate of America."

Hickey bent double loading a rifle, before handing it to a Mohawk like it was the hardest thing in the world. He wiped his forehead, which – like mine – was glazed over in sweat. That was when Ziio decided to show up behind me.

"Making progress, it seems?" she asked, a little more gently than beforehand. I was hopeful that she'd snapped out of her foul mood for a moment...only to realise that she wasn't even talking directly to me, but to the group as a whole.

"I suppose you could say that," I huffed.

She spoke a short word in her incomprehensible mother-tongue, before turning to me. "Haytham, I need a little help on the hill with a few things. Would you be willing?"

Why isn't she looking me in the eye? Is she cross?

No.

Her voice had not sounded annoyed, so...was she...was she shy to ask for help from me? It wasn't unlike Ziio to be coy, but this time I was not sure. A felt a wrenching sensation in my stomach.

"Yes, of course." I nodded to Hickey. "You're in charge," I told him.

As Ziio and I scrambled up the hill, I couldn't help but feel that now we were alone, something was still wrong. She stared coldly at her own feet, and paid me no attention. I swallowed. Was now the time to apologise? I tried my luck.

"Erm, Ziio?"

To my surprise, she stopped in her tracks. "Yes?"

How was I going to word this? "Are you..." I glanced around the clearing to check that nobody was listening. But all around us the men seemed occupied. I leaned forward to whisper in her ear: "Are you slightly irritated by me? For not visiting you for the past few months?"

Ziio blinked. The metal doors over her eyes vanished in an instant; the melting gaze was back. "No. Not at all. I assumed that you had been otherwise busy, but I...I suppose I had hoped for you to come at least once. Why?"

I shook my head. "Oh, never mind, then. I...I just wondered, that's all. My men gave a little speech of how I had been absent for too long. I felt terrible; I wanted to come to you and explain that they were growing suspicious. So, I'm sorry..."

She nodded. "It is fine, Haytham. I understand. Though, you did not seem very 'busy' when I entered the tavern..." she flashed a mischievous smirk.

"You just came at a bad time," I chuckled, nudging her. She punched my shoulder playfully in return.

Thank god, old Ziio is back!

After I had taken care of everything on the hill, Ziio lay down in the grass and watched from the cliff. I was bewildered for a moment, especially when she beckoned me to do the same. I crept forward on my stomach and followed her gaze. She was looking down into the woodland below.

"That is where the Bulldog will come from," she murmured into my ear. She pointed to a dusty path, resembling that of the one which I rode to her camp. "He will arrive soon enough. This is the best place to observe his approach."

I wasn't really listening. Was it my fancy that my heart momentarily beat at double speed when I realised that our flanks were touching? I was enjoying this proximity to Ziio more than I had in a long time. I supposed I had missed her, in my own way.

So immature. Focus, Haytham!

"Is it clear when we must strike?" she checked.

"I will know," I shrugged, staring through the vegetation below, "believe me."

In fact, her predictions were right. It wasn't long at all till we heard the clip-clop of hooves against the dust and boots thumping in unison across the path. I felt Ziio's muscles tense against my own when Braddock was in sight: I knew how much she loathed him. I too felt hatred burning through my veins at the sight of Braddock sitting regally on his horse, flanked by George Washington, a cart, guards on foot and...his blood-red coat. A souvenir of his betrayal, I thought. A symbol that he was my brother no more.

"They come," said Ziio simply. I felt her fingers brush against my arm; the muscles underneath her touch relaxed. I took a deep breath. This was it. This was why Ziio and I had even met in the first place. This had better not go wrong.

We watched in silence as the patrol crawl up the path like a band of red ants. Muffled words were passed from Washington to his commander, which sounded like: "Everything all right, sir?"

"Just...savouring the moment," sighed Braddock. "No doubt many wonder why it is that we've pushed so far west. These are wild lands, as yet untamed and unsettled."

Ziio's fist clenched on my back. I could almost feel sparks of her fury spitting at me.

"But it shall not always be so. In time, our holdings will no longer suffice. And that day is closer than you think."

No it isn't, Edward, I thought. I wanted nothing more than to knock the confidence clean out of his voice. Moreover, to drain any sound from his lips to a jubilant silence. But I my senses weren't clouded by impatience.

For Ziio, this was not the case. Ardent for the fall of the Bulldog, she sprung up on all fours like a predator ready to pounce. "Now is the time to strike," she hissed, while Edward was talking about needing more land below.

I put a hand on her back to stop her jumping to her feet. "Wait. To scatter the expedition is not enough. We must ensure that Braddock falls, else he's sure to try again."

Hm...how am I to do this?
Perhaps I need to approach Edward with stealth.
Disguise?
Perfect.

"I'll disguise myself as one of his own and make my way to his side. Your ambush will provide the perfect cover for me to deliver the killing blow."

She nodded. It seemed a fair compromise, and a much better plan. But I knew it'd be a gruelling job. Well, it was for a good cause.

I pushed myself to my feet. Let's get this over with, I thought.