Chapter 4:5

1775, April 19th

The morning was warm with a soft wind against my back, but deep inside I felt like ice. I didn't at all like the way Alex and I had split, how harsh and irrational I had behaved.

He will never forgive me for saying those things, I thought bitterly as I swallowed the last of my bread. He cannot; not even Alex will show such kindness to me.

"Disperse, you damned rebels! Lay down your arms and disperse!"

Mr. Pitcairn sounded tired but more than determined to get this over with and seeing most of the rebels flee from the battlefield made me more confident in our cause. If even the soldiers of the Continental army would understand to run away, it was obviously because they knew that their doing was wrong indeed.

I watched Mr. Pitcairn raise his hand and gesturing to open fire. The sound was almost deafening and I released my reins, quickly covering my ears. I tried to extinguish the faces of the rebels that stood their ground behind a low stonewall – maybe would Alex be there. The sound of bullets piercing into human flesh and the growls of the dying men made my stomach turn in disgust but I stood vigilant, making sure that he wasn't among them. But suddenly, my eyes caught onto a white-hooded man, running away from the battle. There was no doubt about it; it was him.

I automatically reached for my sword – which Mr. Pitcairn had been nice enough to offer me – and gritted my teeth. I hate you.

"Fire!"

Another round of blasting rifles lighted the plain field and filled the air with a musky smell. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, knowing that I would have to get used to the odd scent as soon as possible.

"Charge!"

I quickly regained my posture and tried to look like I knew what I was doing. Most of the Regulars knew me as Mr. Pitcairn's nephew, Edgar, and that my father had sent me to follow his brother to the New World. I was supposedly here since I had a dream to become a General when older and to teach me the basics of military strategy in real combat. My exact age hadn't been made official and I was not allowed to speak unless spoken to. The reason why Mr. Pitcairn had chosen to do this was because he knew that a camp with at least a hundred men would make a girl's stay difficult, even under the supervision of a trusted guard. I was dressed in a not too startling outfit with simple pants, a white linen shirt and a jacket, as well as armed with a pistol and a double edged rapier. My hair was tucked beneath a large hat and I secretly thanked whoever had been in charge of my clothes for being so thoughtful.

Most of the men defending Lexington had died – their bodies blossoming with a color I was growing accustomed to – and the remaining of the rebels were quickly taken care of with the sharpness of a sword or two. I quietly watched as Mr. Pitcairn fired his gun from his position on the horse, killing an old man who stubbornly stood his ground until a soldier cut him down.

Horrible… war is just nauseatingly horrible, I thought as an officer nonchalantly kicked away a dying man's rifle, and then buried his sword into the rebel's throat. But alas too necessary for certain situations; still, that doesn't make this any easier to watch.

"The rebels are no more, sir!"

"Ready to move on."

"The last of them has fallen, sir!"

I turned to Mr. Pitcairn and saw him nodding to each one of his subordinates. His expression was set grim and he gazed over the battlefield.

"Towards Concord," he said and the officers quickly organized their troops. The company hurried away, leaving the town of Lexington with nothing but dead men. Half an hour later, we reached a wide, wooden bridge, apparently our only way across the river. Watching Mr. Pitcairn organize his soldiers was interesting to watch but I knew that it would be impossible for me to do it. The role of a leader was simply not my thing and I admitted it.

"Are you ready?"

I shook my head and smiled nervously.

"This is my first time in the frontlines, sir," I replied and straightened in my saddle. "But I'll do my best."

Major Pitcairn started laughing and I felt even more embarrassed, thinking that he was laughing at my inexperience.

"Certainly not," he said and smirked. "Both Charles and Haytham would skin me alive if I allowed you to join; I have another mission for you."

"A mission?" I repeated as I found myself dumbfounded and cleared my throat. "What do you mean, sir?"

The old Templar opened his mouth to continue when he was interrupted by a couple of officers. He ordered them into firing position and to wait for further orders. I took the time to analyze the rebels on the other side of the bridge. They were well-armed and determined, but not especially many. This will probably end in another slaughter.

"Excuse me for the interruption, Melissa."

"No, it's all right, sir," I quickly answered, happy that he used my forename. "What is it you'll have me do?"

Mr. Pitcairn pointed down the two sides of the large bridge where soldiers were ushered into firing position. There was still an eerie peace between the Regulars and the rebels, but that would change soon enough.

"I want you to move behind enemy lines and cut down everyone from the left side, then make me a signal; I'll point my forces towards the right and then clash into the middle," he said and illustrated his words using hand movements. "If we breach through their defenses, they will have no choice but to retreat."

I nodded in agreement and jumped down from my horse.

"Dispatch of them as quickly as you can," Mr. Pitcairn continued and loosened his holster, handing it over to me. "I do not doubt your abilities, especially not since Haytham is to vouch for you, but better keep this close to you for the sake of your safety."

I received the heavy object and hitched off the gun holster from the weapon itself. It was much larger than I had anticipated and I tried the weight in my hand… it would suffice. Putting down the strap of leather in my saddlebag, I hid the gun in the waistband of my trousers and pulled my shirt over; the flintlock pistol was as good as hidden.

"Thank you, sir." I tightened my belt and felt the blunt weapon chafing against my skin. "I'll return it to you as soon as the battle has ended."

"As you please."

I nodded once again and backed away from him, hurrying towards the riverbank after having made sure that nobody saw me. The soldiers seemed too focused on the oncoming battle that I could navigate through the lines without any complications.

How fortunate that Alex is not here, I thought as I slid down a slope, reaching a stream connected to the river. I guess there is some prospect of hope even in a dire situation.

The water didn't seem particularly deep but the current was strong and I realized that swimming to the other side was no option. Not only would I be soaked and freezing as soon as I emerged, I'd be easy to spot and shot down in an instant. I decided to continue walking until I would discover the thinnest part of the flood and try to wade across it. Luck was with me and I was even able to find a way over without becoming wet, jumping on stone to stone to the other side.

"Who's there?"

I changed my face into complete exhaustion and sorrow, seeing a trio of rebels approaching me.

"Please… help me," I breathed and threw off my hat, revealing my long hair. "I barely got away."

They quickly moved closer to me with worried expressions and sheathed their weapons. One of them was barely older than me – let alone Alex – and I saw that he exhaled in relief. Had he only known that I was a lot worse than I looked, he might have ran, but who would fear a girl like me?

I waited until they were an arm's length away from me before I reacted, aiming a kick towards the knee which crippled one of the men. The second didn't even have the time to blink before I silenced him with a strike to his neck. By the time they landed on their backs, I had already buried my fist into the stomach of the boy. They were all rendered immovable and harmless in a couple of seconds.

"Help me!"

The only one who remained conscious tried to pull forth his rifle but it was being held down by his own weight. He yelled again and I placed my foot on his neck, casually leaning down to pick up my hat.

"How many soldiers are positioned out here except for you?" I asked politely as I combed back my hair into the dark, triangular-shaped hat. When he refused to answer, I pressured his airway with my weight and a choking sound came out of his throat. "I won't ask again." I'm sorry, but Mr. Pitcairn counts on me to do this, as well as Master Kenway. And I don't fail.

The man grimaced and gripped my leg, trying to yank it away from him, but I instantly pulled my rapier and placed the point on his abdomen. He was a lot stronger than me for sure and I wouldn't let him have a chance to overpower me.

"Speak."

He stiffened and gurgled something incomprehensible. I sighed and lifted my foot a fifth of an inch above his throat, gesturing for him to continue.

"We're a dozen spread in three's all over this side of the bridge," he answered and his gaze was hateful as he met my eyes. "You won't be able to get through them all."

"Is that so," I replied sarcastically and hit him with the flat side of my blade. His blue eyes fluttered closed and I left the three rebels unconscious and unarmed, throwing their weapons into the river. I continued towards the battle at the bridge and dealt with whomever I met. The man had spoken the truth; after having dispatched of the third trio of men, I reached the final group of rebels. And I couldn't believe what I saw.

Three – three – middle-aged Patriots were keeping away a whole third of Major Pitcairn's company. They seemed inexperienced and much nervous but kept their stance, firing when ordered to.

I snuck forward to them, limping as one of them saw me. They fell for my lie as the others had done and I knocked them out with a couple of swift movements. I bent down to inspect if they were still alive and gathered their weapons, ready to throw them away or render them useless.

"Who are you?"

I stiffened. That voice… "What's it to you?" I asked with such a deep voice I could muster and slowly rose to standing. "I'm just a simple thief."

"A thief that makes sure that his victims are alive and well? And then takes nothing but their weapons, leaving their easily accessible pockets untouched?"

I shrugged and continued, still not turning around to let him see my face.

"Weapons are expensive and easy to sell."

"They're heavy and draw a lot of attention."

His voice came not directly behind me but more from above and I guessed that he was sitting on a horse. I quickly calculated a plan and the pistol I had received from Mr. Pitcairn slipped into my hands.

"Don't move!" I yelled as I spun around.

His dark, hazelnut-colored eyes locked with mine and even though I tried to look away I couldn't.

"I thought so," he simply said.

"Don't come closer," I warned him and pointed my weapon towards him. The heavy pistol felt awkward in my grip but I had learned enough from Mr. Kenway to know how to aim and reload.

"Take it easy now; you don't want to do this."

I felt that my arms started shaking, if not for the immense weight of the gun, but because that I was about to shot someone – I had never killed anyone before.

"Melissa."

"So you recall me?" I asked mockingly and took a step back, readying the gun meanwhile. "You took your time."

He opened his mouth to answer but I didn't let him have the chance. Instead of shooting him I aimed at the horse, hoping that he would fall with it and break a leg at least. I didn't wait to see if I actually succeeded but hurried back into the thick forest. Realizing much too late that I had forgot to signal Mr. Pitcairn about the completion of my mission, I hesitated in my steps and slipped on a mossy stone.

"Argh!"

I landed on my back and the air was pushed out of my lungs. Black spots dotted my vision and I tried to calm my breathing back to normal. My foot was throbbing with pain and I groaned while trying to sit up.

"Do you need help?"

I would've jumped to my feet if I could but only a surprised gasp escaped my lips. The Assassin kneeled next to me and as I quickly crawled away from him, my back hit the same stone I had slipped on. I had nowhere to go.

"I think you've sprained your ankle."

I sighed and stared into the ground. What does he want me? "Yes, I fear that's correct," I replied and pulled my legs to my chest. How did he get to me this quickly? Is this how superior an Assassin really is?

"I won't hurt you."

I kept my gaze low, refusing to answer, but then I suddenly felt his hand gently gripping my chin and nudging my face upwards.

"I won't hurt you," he repeated and smiled crookedly. "I won't ask any questions neither, but let me help you."

I shook my head and fumbled to grip my rapier. He realized what I was doing and firmly gripped the two of my hands in one if his.

"Where can I take you to safety?"

"You could just leave me and let me be," I answered and avoided his gaze. "I don't need anything from you."

"I don't even think you can stand with the injury, let alone walk," he said and raised his eyebrows when I pushed him away.

"Watch me."

I supported myself on the large rock and rose up, putting all of my weight on my okay foot. As I managed to stand, I gave him my best "what-did-I-just-say" expression. But when I took a step forward, I lost my balance and the ground came rushing back to my face.

"Got you."

I slowly opened my eyes and found myself face to face with him. An instant flush of red colored my face and I had the urge to slap myself, had it not been for the already immense pain in my foot.

"Ah." I paused and felt how my face turned even darker. Damn it. "Thank you."

He helped me to standing but then suddenly lift me up.

"What are you doing? Hey!"

"It will take much too long to walk with you," he replied and I could swear that he sounded amused. "Where shall I take you?"

I grimaced and tried to struggle, but he seemed not to notice. His right arm was hooked beneath the sockets of my knees and his left was grabbing me tightly around my shoulders. I realized how I was slipping out of his grip and instinctively took hold of his neck.

"Just get me across the river, please."

There's no point of arguing anymore, I thought as he nodded and started walking. The Assassin didn't at all seem troubled with my weight nor the awkward situation we both were in. He quietly hurried to the riverbank and waded through the strong current without any problems. Fortunately enough for me, Mr. Pitcairn had gained an advance and moved his troops away from the right side – for us – of the bridge.

"You have someone here with you?"

I was carefully sat down on a fallen tree and I exhaled when my sprained foot touched the ground without any spike of pain.

"Yes, my best friend," I replied without realizing what I actually said. "He is nearby; I'll find him from here."

The Assassin opened his mouth to answer but I waved him away.

"Go," I continued and took off my hat. "I thank you for taking me across the river but I'll be fine now. You better hurry back to aid the rebels." I added.

He smiled crookedly – something that I had come to notice he did often – and nodded.

"I guess this is goodbye; for now. Something tells me we will meet again, Melissa Rawling."

Then he turned back towards the river, leaving me alone. Where he had touched me I felt warm, warmer than I had ever felt before and a strange feeling seeped into my body. I was still blushing and my heart was beating rapidly, even though I had been unmoving for at least the quarter of an hour.

"I hope not," I mumbled as I tried to rub back some life into my foot. I hope not, Connor.