Letters Home: (Treason) Letters from the Present

By: Shadow Chaser

Summary:

Directly after the events of Monmouth, Caleb confronts Ben for a long overdue conversation about the past and present events. Takes place right before the scene in Episode 10 where Ben encounters and leads Bradford into an ambush by Caleb.

Story:

"All right Ben, you wanna tell me what the hell is going on?" Ben could feel Caleb's intense gaze on him. He set down the letter that was from Abe's man inside New York named Robert Townsend.

He sighed as he pushed the letter towards the other end of the small table in his tent at Valley Forge. It did not move too far. He supposed he owed his best friend an explanation after what had happened on the ridge leading up to where Washington had been with the cannons forming a second defensive perimeter. The words he and Connor had exchanged had definitively broken whatever small bonds of friendship, of any hope of alliance between the two of them. It had also, in his opinion, severed any remnant bonds with the Brotherhood he had cultivated. It was technically what he always wanted and hoped that his father, when he received the news, would not be disappointed. It still did not stop the disquieting feeling of severance within him.

"I've been patient, I've been quiet, but hearing that, that savage injun' try to kill ya before? Excuse me, no," Caleb said heatedly as he shook his head, "I should have shot him, just like I should have shot Simcoe-"

"No," Ben shook his head as he finally met Caleb's gaze and saw his brow crinkle. It was still odd seeing him without his beard, but he supposed he was growing it back judging by the scruff he had going already. He wasn't feeling charitable enough to correct Caleb on the derogatory term for Connor.

"No?!" Caleb's eyebrows rose, "Ben-"

"Connor would have easily killed you before you could have fired at him," he said. He neglected to mention that there was the occasional unusual green glow that surrounded Connor when he was cutting through the redcoats. It was as if something was repelling rounds and other metal objects away from him. It was only the saving grace of whatever remnants was left of their fledgling friendship that had gotten Connor to back down and leave without incident. Otherwise, Ben did not know what would happen to the ball he fired at point-blank range. Just as well, considering that Connor had drawn his small hidden blade and was also pointing it at his throat.

"Well, just because he went through those bloody-backs like wet parchment-"

"It's exactly that," Ben rubbed his face tiredly, "Connor is a trained Assassin. And I mean one of those Assassins and an assassin itself."

"So?"

"They are trained from a very young age, almost the same time as they can walk," Ben started as he rubbed his eyes and stared at nothing in particular, "in the arts of stealthiness, crawling through trees, paths, to be unassuming amongst all walks of life. That is how they can slip in and out. They are trained to be fast, quick with the blade, and sure with the gun. Some prefer weapons of a certain kind, daggers, tomahawks, some have a better skill with firearms or even with poisons.

"We try to have a normal childhood back then, because the Templars were hunting us. So training had to be in secret, like a game. Some were trained in the basics, but then sent for different types of further education. Connor was trained to be a warrior, and it is probably in more part because of his native roots. He moves with the skill of a predator on a hunt and has lightning reflexes that made him so effective against the Templars these last few years."

"Templars," Caleb's voice was flat and Ben looked up at him to see him staring at him with a look of disbelief on his face, "as in Knights Templar Order back in the Crusades? Are you shitting me?"

"Caleb-"

"And what the hell is this about normal childhoods and games? Are you one of them? One of these...Assassins? Is Connor one of your friends that you randomly meet and then watch him kill a bunch of lobster-backs like they were nothing?!" there was something in his best friend's expression that warred between being frightened, yet excited. Ben's gut twisted painfully. He did not want his friend to find out like this. Caleb was fearless. Caleb was the voice of reason and the stalwart one between the two of them.

"No, I'm not one," he shook his head as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "my father was though..."

The former whaler blinked and sat back, nearly falling over in his chair, "What?! Old Man Reverend Tallmadge was one of those Assassins? Killed like Connor back there?!"

"I...don't know..." he replied, "my father...never really talked much about his work for the Assassin Brotherhood during the Seven Years War and beyond that. But I would presume so, though I guess many of them came from the barrel of his rifle." He had never found any evidence that his father wore a hidden blade like Connor did, but he had seen glints of one on one of Achilles' arms and supposed that it was a way of identifying those who were part of the Brotherhood. His father must have put his away after he had gone into hiding and became a Reverend.

"Holy...Reverend Tallmadge...and you're not?"

"I'm not," he tried to smile faintly at Caleb's question, but did not succeed, "I...knew about my father's Assassin ties, but didn't really know about it until more recently. All I knew was that it took him away from Samuel and I for a long time and I didn't want that...I wanted...well, I hope to have a family someday, after all of this is over. I...don't want my children to feel as abandoned as Samuel and I did growing up." He pressed his lips together as he looked away, unwilling to meet Caleb's sympathetic look.

"Well," Caleb cleared his throat a little bit after a moment of awkward silence, "certainly explains about you and Sammy-boy. How you two were able to get away with certain things like climbing trees and rooftops while the rest of our parents were all up in arms about it."

Ben snorted quietly and nodded. He wondered if he should tell Caleb about Samuel being an Assassin, but decided against it as out of the corner of his eye, he saw him rock back a little, clapping his hands on his legs.

"So, that little showdown back there-"

"I thought about using the Assassin Brotherhood to help Abe and Anna in New York, but it seems Connor's goals of ending General Lee and a fallout with Washington wasn't a means to an end," he shook his head. He dared not tell Caleb about the fact that Connor had insisted that Washington had burned his village a long time ago.

"Ending Lee, huh?" his best friend rubbed his chin, a slight scratching noise filling the tent, "would be pretty handy."

"It would, but I think General Washington has other plans for him," he had not seen any sign of Charles Lee since they had all returned to camp. He did catch a glimpse of William Bradford who looked like he was looking for a drink upon their return. Ben flicked an absent finger at the letter that had both the sympathetic ink and what looked like to be a bill on it. "Bradford's still a threat..."

"Yeah, along with a couple of other names on there. Mentions an assassin, but not a name. Though it might have been Connor, especially with what happened back there, but you're saying he hates Lee?"

"Tipped me off to Lee being a Templar, but this confirms what's more than likely a Templar conspiracy to replace or kill Washington and put their man in charge of the Continentals. Maybe even surrender to the British since Lee's a confirmed traitor," he picked up the paper by its edge and glanced at the quick lines and strokes that denoted Townsend's hand writing.

"Knights Templar..." Caleb's voice sounded a little faint and Ben gave him a wry sideways smile.

"Nothing so special about them except they work in the shadows like the Assassins. The only comparable thing is that they're lending their services to the British," he shrugged, "makes me wonder if their Head of Intelligence, Major John Andre is one of them."

"Sending assassins like the Assassins being assassins is their thing?" Caleb asked.

"I don't know," Ben replied, "but it could be true." The fact that he had been targeted, or rather indirectly targeted, by Templars disguised as Queen's Rangers back in Wethersfield told him that the Templars were not above adopting the Brotherhood's own techniques against them.

"They got a goal?"

"I honestly do not know," he said, "all I know is that Connor confirmed that Charles Lee is a Templar and is a traitor to the Patriots, so maybe the Templars are against American independence."

"And they want Washington dead, if Bradford's name on that list is any indication," Caleb gestured with a couple of fingers to the paper he was holding.

"Bradford could be by association," he cautioned, but even that felt like a lie in his own mind. There was no way that Bradford was not considered a Templar. The man practically followed in Lee's coattails and heels. It was he who had suggested a majority of the battle plan that Washington had approved of according to Billy Lee's words to him.

"Still, gotta catch the bastard," Caleb gave him a toothy smile and Ben looked at him.

"You have a plan," he stated and his best friend nodded.

"I've got a plan, and you're going to love it," he reached over and patted him on his shoulder, "and since I'm such a nice guy and want to thank you for sharing this bit of information, I'm letting you punch him first before I sock him."

Ben laughed, a weight of relief lifting off of him at Caleb's words. He was glad that Caleb took his explanation in stride and did not pry further into the past he had completely segregated himself from. He only hoped that Washington would accept it the same once he talked with him. Because there he did not missed the fact that Washington and Lafayette were staring at him and Connor in their confrontation.

~END~