Chapter 3:1

1770, March 1st

It wasn't until March next year I met Haytham Kenway again. He was back from whatever mission he had conducted and seemed in good spirits. The weather was unusually cold and the snow had not yet melted away. I was alone, waiting at the harbor for his ship to arrive. Alex wasn't with me; he had moved to New York for the moment while things were so turbulent in Boston. We exchanged letters but rarely met. It didn't bother me that much as I was mostly busy searching for the men who had almost killed me. It hadn't taken me especially far though, and was nowadays just a trifle. Of course did I miss him but we were still in the awkward situation where neither of us wanted to back down. He was determined that my way of thinking was wrong – by me wanting to wipe their faces off the world – and I thought he was a wimp.

The vessel arrived at the docks a quarter over four, and I couldn't hide my excitement when I saw my teacher approaching me. I hurried to his side and gave him a polite bow. He nodded at me to rise and we continued walking towards the city.

"Any news? How fares your aunt?"

He walked so fast that I was forced to take two steps when he took one.

"No, sir, nothing new." I paused. "And Auntie is alright, just struggling a bit with the rent; she got fired last weekend and have been searching for a new job ever since."

We passed a group of men and they shot venomous glares after us. He wrinkled his forehead and I quickly explained to him.

"People are so angry these days," I said and kept my voice low. I didn't want them to hear my accent nor what I said. "The Crown is raising the taxes even higher since the French withdrew and it's keeping us on edge. I do agree that the laws are illegitimate since the colonies have no delegate in the British Parliament but still; a revolution might not be the best solution."

He shrugged and opened his mouth to answer when loud voices interrupted him. As the two of us emerged from the alley, we walked into chaos. Regulars were trying to defend the city house, as the furious crowd outside yelled indecent stuff at the soldiers. The citizens were a lot larger in number and I knew that things were getting out of control.

"I say again – disperse! Congregating in this manner is forbidden!"

A poor redcoat tried to calm them down but it was in vain.. Mr. Kenway gestured for me to wait in the alleyway and pushed his way through the angry mob, reaching the town hall in no time. He changed a couple of words with a man – perhaps in his fifties and wearing a dove blue coat – who nodded in assent. My heart went cold as I saw the stranger hurry away into the street closest, his hands gripping a rifle.

"This is madness."

"Mr. Lee," I greeted him and whipped around.

Charles Lee took a couple of steps towards me and frowned.

"It seems like someone sparked them today," he said and rubbed his chin. "Things are looking bad."

"Please, you got to stop them before the soldiers open fire. Is there no way to calm things down?"

I silently prayed that my aunt was at home now, not joining this stupid protest. What would I do if she died as well?

"I'll see what I can do, little lady," he answered and gave me a soft smile. "Don't worry, everything will be alright. Just stay here and I'll find you later."

He gently patted my head before disappearing into the alley. I turned back to the scenery in front of me and desperately searched for my aunt's distinctive red hair. It was hard to see because of the snow but after a couple of checkups I was sure that she wasn't here. The wind gained in strength as the people got angrier and one could almost touch the fiery tension.

My eyes passed over the crowd again and suddenly caught onto something dark, standing on a roof. It was the man Mr. Kenway had spoken to earlier and he was sweeping his glance over the many people as well as I was. The only difference was that he held a gun.

Time seemed to slow when I saw him readying the weapon and aiming towards the protesting citizens. I wanted to yell at them, to warn them about the soon to be a murderer above, but my voice was hoarse and no sound came out. My hands instinctively searched for something to throw but found nothing and I felt the panic rising. I started to sprint – knocking people aside – but knew that I wouldn't reach him in time for the first shot, the decisive one. The regulars and the mob were just on the verge to explode into a riot. His action would determine the end for many.

Then I saw him.

He ran towards the man and cut him down, gripping him by his collar and growled something. A relief filled my body and I released my breath. He made it, God, he made it. Now there won't be any—

The sound of a firing gun drifted away into the relentless wind and I first thought that it had been something I imagined. Then I saw a man next to me drop to the ground, his face blown into smithereens. Sanguine liquid colored the ground and a metallic aroma filled the air, together with the smell of gunpowder. The crowd went hysterical.

"God save us all!"

"Run for your lives!"

"They're shooting at us!"

I covered my ears and tried to get out from the fleeing group of people. More and more shots were fired together with piercing shrieks of men and women dying. Someone shoved me into the ground and I got a hard kick in my stomach, thus losing my breath. The pain blinded me and I yelped.

Help me…

I grimaced and tried to grab someone. I felt fabric between my fingers and pulled it with all my might.

"Please, I…"

My vision returned and I saw that I was holding a dead woman's skirt. She had been shot twice, both in her shoulder and her head and the blood was emitting steam in the cold breeze. I felt how my stomach turned and I couldn't help but throwing up.

When I was done, I brushed my mouth with the back of my hand and spat out residues of my vomit. I could still hear guns blazing and orders being shouted out. It was hard to rise up but I made it to my feet – a bloody miracle, alas the irony – and looked around me.

Dead citizens, everywhere.