My mouth dropped open in astonishment. Had I heard correctly? The boy said my name. Confusion whirled in my head as I tried to remember who he was. But I couldn't.

The two other men and woman turned. Their faces resembled mine: a look of utter perplexity on each one. But the young Mohawk continued to smile at me like an old friend.

"Haytham!" he repeated, stepping closer. "Do not look so bemused. I am a friend."

A friend, I thought. Was he an ally from the Braddock expedition? Yes, I definitely saw him then. But I reckoned that I knew him from before. My lips remained still nonetheless.

"Do you remember me?" he asked. "I am Koshisigre. A friend of Ziio's. You saved my life once, remember?"

At last, a memory clicked with his name. It's him! Koshisigre! The boy I saved from the clifftop!

"I..." I couldn't find words to say. "Yes, I-I remember. Um, hello."

"Hello."

I wasn't sure which was worse: the extremely edgy silence or the still staring Mohawks, clutching their bows as if about to fire. Koshisigre muttered something to them, and they relaxed. The grip on their weapons loosened. Perhaps he's told them I am a friend, I assumed.

"Oi! 'Aytham! Who's up there?" Hickey's voice boomed from downhill.

"Just some friends," I shouted back down. "Fear not. I shall see them gone in a moment."

I looked back at the Natives, as if to say: not really.The more gruff-looking of the two older men nodded, murmuring: "We will be gone, rest assured. We are the hunting patrol for today."

"Such a long way from the village," I remarked. "Why have you travelled so far?"

Silence again. Why are all these Mohawks so goddamn mysterious?

"So, erm...you say that you are a friend of Ziio's," I addressed the boy again.

"A very close friend indeed," he purred.

"How is she? Only I haven't seen her for weeks."

The smile slid off his face instantly; he bit his flaky lip. The two men and woman busied themselves looking at the ground. I knew something was wrong immediately.

"What's the matter?" I asked, my nerves rising.

"Perhaps a private conversation would be a good idea," he whispered. "Come."

"What?" I barked, taken aback.

"Ssh," he hissed desperately. "We need to find somewhere quiet to talk."

A talk in private? But why –

At once horrifying assumptions came to mind. There was something wrong with Ziio. That was why she hadn't come to see me. Was she sick? Injured? Worse? Worse. That word made my spine feel the chills of a ghost. Not possible. Koshisigre had spoken of her rather normally until I asked how she was. Ziio is fine, I told myself. She is a strong woman.

I followed Koshisigre across the plain, his accomplices eyeing both of us suspiciously. He swerved skilfully around a large thorn bush (of which one of the branches poked my eye). I cursed silently, wiping the welling moisture and blinking.

"Will this be brief?" I asked. "I think my men have no appreciation for my absence."

"Yes, yes it will be," said Koshisigre, exasperation creeping into his voice.

At last we were out of view of the others. The surrounding trees shielded us completely, even as the hot breeze blew the branches to reveal our path. I still had the feeling that something wasn't right. Why was Ziio's health such a private matter to this boy? Even when Koshisigre turned to face me, his face was grave as death.

"I cannot lie to you, Haytham. Ziio is not herself."

Oh. I expected much worse than this. "How? Why not?"

The young Mohawk's eyes widened to the size of spectacles. "She speaks to nobody. She continually sways from dizziness when she hunts. She is clearly sick, but seeks no help."

I did not know what to make of this. Why was I being told this in private? "Yes...?" I pressed.

"She will not even tell me what the matter is. I wondered if...if you would know?"

"Me?" I spluttered. "I have not seen her for weeks! How should I know?"

He shrugged. "I simply had a feeling that the problem was related to you. She tells me everything, you know. I heard all about the night in the cave. I know that you are very, very dear to Ziio. Perhaps she is...pining for you?"

I frowned. This was ridiculous. "Pining for me? Not possible. Ziio isn't like that."

"I have known her since I was born. I most certainly can sense when she is upset."

My mouth opened and closed as I struggled to find words. I knew it was far from intentional, but the boy was practically bragging that he knew my own lover better than I did.

Lover...such a strong word. Is it a word to suit Ziio and I?
I wish I knew the answer.

"Well, if she misses me, she can always visit. She knows where I stay."

"Ah. But would your men approve?" he asked.

"We could disguise her visit as a meeting about the land."

That sounds ridiculous, Haytham. A meeting about the land?
It is possible.
But also very, very suspicious.

Koshisigre felt the same thing. "That would be difficult. I have seen your men. They are simply lost without you, and when you leave them they grow restless. I heard that man for myself a moment ago. Was he satisfied with your lengthy disappearance?"

Much as I hated rhetorical questions, I knew that he was right. I sighed. "So what do you propose, exactly?"

He glanced around through the swishing trees to check that nobody was listening. "I propose that you come to our village to visit Ziio. I could sneak you in at night, if necessary."

This was all too much. Not only was this conversation risky and awkward, but his ask was a big one. "What? I can't possibly –"

"It is for Ziio's sake," he urged. "Please."

"It is impossible. I won't stand for this!"

"Just one visit. It is enough. Please," the young man pleaded.

I shook my head in indignation.

The things a man must do for love! To sneak out and visit Ziio?
You told her that you loved her. She should want to see you.
But she should not grow ill over me!
Perhaps she is ill, anyway. It may not be related at all. Come on, Haytham. You know that you want to see her.

I broke my gaze from his pleading eyes to the sky above. I thought of all the times I'd seen her; those perfect moments of relaxation and love. They were some of the happiest memories I'd had in America. Surely the night at the river was not destined to be the last? I knew that my heart needed to race again. I knew that my lips longed for hers. I knew that she needed me, even if it never showed.

"Alright," I huffed. "Alright. But this has to be planned. I suppose tonight would be suitable, when it is dark?"

Koshisigre nodded. "Yes. I shall wait at the village entrance and sneak you in. I will not tell Ziio though. She would love the surprise!"

As we both went our separate ways, a tiny, unwanted feeling bugged me. Something inside simply didn't have the energy to visit. This feeling grew rapidly when my men fired questions at me like bullets. I answered them as coolly as possible, but it was hard to disguise the length of my absence. If this was the sort of burden that being in love with Ziio brought, I had no strength to bear it.

Later that night I woke and dressed quickly, wondering what on earth I was doing. Here I was, Master Kenway, stealing away to some Native woman I called my lover. It was incredulous. Why had I changed so much for one person?

Well, that 'one person' is most certainly worth changing my ways for.

I crept downstairs in the darkness, mounted my horse outside and rode into the night.

Sorry for how long that took to update. Why is it that even in the school holidays I can't find time for writing? Again, that was kind of sloppy so I really will try next time. Review and stuff!