Beloved sister

Only two days later, I was standing alone by the freshly filled up grave of my brother and looked at the provisional gravestone on it. A small rock on which Norris had, after my request, engraved Ray´s initials and the years of his birth and death. The grave also appeared quite provisional, maybe even loveless. But I had chosen the isolated spot on a clearing in the forest, beyond the homestead´s borders, on purpose. Ray hadn´t only harmed my family but also my friends. Everyone was clearly remembering the attack on Davenport and I found it wrong to bury the plotter behind it on homestead ground. He hadn´t this right, but he had the right to have a proper burial. Here in the forest, he could rest in peace and I could, when I was able to sometime, make this short walk and visit his grave.
But at the moment, it was hard for me to really grieve for Ray. I felt sadness and pain about his death, but I was also filled by feelings that had always been there when I had thought about him lately. Bitter disappointment, anger and incomprehension. My mind could find no explanation for how I could have been so wrong about Ray in all these years. That I had never come to the thought that he had been the one who had killed my parents. For eighteen years. I had only seen it when he had always taken my child from me, too and before, I had always protected him despite his crimes and because of that, I had almost pushed Connor away from me. The man who, despite everything, was trying to tell me that I should keep my memories of Ray in my heart. The memories of a brother who had shown me how it felt to be a child. Who had told me the wildest stories and had let me experienced adventures. But in my memories, this brother seemed to be so far away, that I could hardly seize him.
"I really missed you, brother", I whispered and blinked away the tears, which were unstoppably rising into my eyes. "I hope we both will find our peace now."
With a last look at the gravestone, I turned away to leave.

It took about one and a half weeks until Connor could sit up without having his ribs causing great pain. Until this point in time, he had spent most of his time in bed which of course hadn´t been to his liking. Connor´s mood had sunk to the level of a rabbit hole and was unbearable. But I couldn´t hold it against him. It wasn´t Connor´s nature to lead an idle life for a long time, especially not when he was feeling well, despite his pain. So it was on me to make this time as pleasant as possible for him. I cooked the meals I knew he liked the most. I helped him wherever I could when he was restricted in his movements. Gave him some smaller tasks from time to time, when he was up. It was giving him a good feeling, even when he just had to cut vegetables, a task which normally would have been ridiculously small, but which was now a welcomed and meaningful activity for him. But Connor was especially enjoying it when I was spending my time with him. When he was well enough, we sat outside together in front of the house or on the balcony. He taught me nine men´s morris or we just sat together, talked or were silent. Sometimes Connor watched me helping Emily with her first and boisterous tries to make her first steps and I could see his fatherly pride, as well as his hope to bend down to her and help her soon. But too often he was stopped by his pain.

"It´s getting better with every day", I tried to cheer him up, when I was standing in front of him once again to treat the area over his ribs. "The bruise already faded a bit and the wounds are looking better. You´re not looking like you fought against a bear and lost anymore."
Connor raised an eyebrow. "If I had fought against a bear and lost, you maybe would need to treat more than just a bruise."
"If you had fought against a bear and lost, I could be happy to have something to treat at all."
I could be anyway, but I didn´t say that. I just smirked and began to wrap a bandage around Connor´s chest to breathe a kiss into the hollow over his collar bone. The spot I could reach without stretching myself.
Connor just reacted with a quiet sigh, wrapped his arms around me and bedded his chin on my head.
"I am sorry for being so bad-tempered sometimes", he murmured. "I just cannot bear sitting around, doing nothing. I feel so useless while you have more work to do because of me."
"Caring for you is no work for me", I replied gently and ran my fingertips along the edge of the bandage. "It sounds egoistic, but I even enjoy this time I can spend with you. Only with you and not the assassin you are." I chuckled and pulled a bit away from Connor, to look into his questioning eyes. "When have we been able to play nine men´s morris or talk about things that have nothing to do with templars or assassins? It´s almost too normal for us."
A smirk curled Connor´s lips when he nodded slowly. "That is true. But I am enjoying these moments, too."
He put a hand on my cheek and fished for one of my strands of hair which he let slowly slide through his fingers. But suddenly his gaze became more serious when he quietly said: "I wished I could have been with you at the funeral. Not for Ray, but for you."
His words hit my heart when I remembered this day a week ago. I had stood by the grave alone, after Father Timothy had left. But I hadn´t found it bad. In the contrary. It had been good.
"You weren´t well and even if it would have been different, I hadn´t wanted you to come with me. It was something I had to do alone."
"And still you were not able to make peace with him."
"I did." It was a lie and this traitorous tremble in my voice was proving it. Connor stopped stroking my hair and looked into my eyes almost reproachfully.
"You are suppressing it. Why else did you put his letters into a commode without looking at them again?"
"I didn´t…" Connor ran his thumb over my lips and interrupted my objection, which would have been another lie anyway.
"I noticed how you put them away after I had given them to you and as far as I know you, you wouldn´t have done it if you did not want to have them out of your sight. Out of sight, out of mind, am I right?"
It felt like he was looking right into my soul and I felt uneasy about it. Caught. Yes, I hadn´t wanted to touch the letters again and now I admitted it with a nod. Connor sighed quietly and now his thumbs followed the lines of my cheekbones. "I think you should read them. Ray wrote them over all these years and whatever he did in the meantime, maybe it will help you to conclude with it."
"But I´m afraid of it. I´m afraid of learning more things that make him even stranger to me."
"But maybe you will recognize him, too."
Now I was the one who uttered a sigh. Inwardly I knew that Connor was probably right. It was hard for me to make peace with my brother and maybe these letters could answer some last questions. Maybe even tell me why I had lost my parents so early. But at the same time I was terribly afraid of it because I knew that it would hit me emotionally. No matter what was standing in these letters.
"I don´t want to do this alone", I whispered and Connor understood. He nodded and kissed my forehead gently. "You do not have to."

The rest of the day, I did my work without really concentrating on it. Connor and I had agreed to sit together tonight and read my brother´s letters. If you had asked me, I would have wanted to push it far away, but Connor was right when he said that I shouldn´t keep delaying it. When the evening had arrived, I felt miserable. My heart was beating wildly, I had a queasy feeling in my stomach and sweaty hands. As if I was close to be in panic. With shaky hands, I prepared Emily for the night, put her to bed and finally prepared myself for bed. In this routine – to get changed, to wash myself, to brush my hair and to braid them – I tried to come to rest. But it was really difficult.
By now, Connor had taken the letters out of the commode and had put them next to him on the bed. Through the mirror, I could see that he was watching me the whole time, but when I finally came to him, he gave me a smile that was taking much more fear from me than any routine. I knew that I wasn´t alone while diving into the thoughts of my brother. Once again I was grateful for knowing Connor by my side. When I came to him, he made me sit between his legs and lean my back against his chest. I protested at first because I didn´t want to hurt him while coming too close to his injured ribs, but Connor positioned me so that I didn´t. He spread the blanked over us, laid an arm around my waist and kissed my temple.
"Is it comfortable?", he asked gently and I nodded. It wasn´t just comfortable, I felt incredibly safe and secure. Safe enough to face my fear.

Connor took the stack of letters and put it on my knees, before he wrapped his arms around me again. Without saying it, he wanted me to decide on my own, when I felt ready to start reading. But although I would have liked to delay it, I took the first letter very soon and began to read. Silently, to myself, but knowing and accepting that Connor was also reading over my shoulder. His presence, his embrace and even the occasional touch of his cheek on my temple were giving me this feeling of safety while I read letter after letter.
There were really over ninety of them. Since the year 1776, when Ray had come to America with the redcoats, he had written to me almost every month. Even after we had met each other again. He had written the last letters only a few days after he had hold Emily out of the window. The first letters, until 1778, were like short diary entries. Summaries of his experiences. Ray wrote about the situation in the forts and camps he was in. About the fights he had fought and the patriots he had met. He often wrote that he wasn´t able and didn´t want to describe the real horror.

I´m just glad you are in London and in safety and don´t have to experience this senseless war.

Not a single time, he uttered some kind of hatred for his opponents. But soon this image changed when we reached the year 1779. Ray had been sent to Savannah in August and in September, the Americans, with the support of the French and under the commando of General Benjamin Lincoln and the French admiral D'Estaing, began to besiege the city. The British were outnumbered and Ray wrote how tensed the situation in the city was.

Everyone has his end in front of his eyes once again. We are only waiting for them to attack us and listen to their cries for their alleged freedom and the insults which are supposed to lure us out. You can´t imagine how it feels like. Surrounded by ungrateful bastards who have enjoyed our king´s protection over years and now want to kill us for it.

After this letter, he hadn´t written to me for more than a year and I didn´t need to take the next letter to know why. It was dated September 1781. Two years after the begin of the siege. Only a few days after the Battle of the Chesapeake about which I knew that Connor and the Aquila had fought for the patriots in it. Ray hadn´t noticed anything of that. He wrote that he had hidden in a cave close to New York and he wrote what I already knew. That he had been almost deadly wounded in Savannah, had wandered through the country alone, without the support of his comrades or even of his enemy. He had survived alone and had treated his wounds, although he had wanted to die, according to his own words.

You don´t believe how often I thought about ending my life. To end this pain and to spare the world from enduring a creature like me. Sometimes I think that even the animals of the forest are disgusted by my appearance. That even a bear or a puma won´t attack me. But I can´t. I think that I still have a duty towards my fatherland and especially towards you and my mother. I want the patriots to regret their betrayal and as soon as I have recovered, I will make sure of it. And then I will return to you.

The next letters proved how strong this wish was, to punish the patriots for the betrayal Ray was reproaching them for. At this point in time, he was convinced that they would lose the war. But with the end of the war, these convictions were destroyed. Ray was furious about the victory of his enemies and cursed them for it.

I was in New York when the ships with the King´s last troupes left. I saw how these traitors were standing at the harbour, cheering and shouting after the ships. They are celebrating their alleged victory, but they are standing in front of their abyss. Without our King George, they cannot survive. They will drown in chaos and I ensure you that I will make sure that they will kiss our King´s feet again soon.

And so Ray´s plan to throw the now independent Americans from their path to an own state developed. With unsettling and trouble. He described how he gathered loyalists like himself to realize his plans. Nothing I read was new to me. He had already told me about it and I felt the same lack of understanding like before. Until June 1784. The month when Nathan had brought me to Philadelphia. Ray had been in the city, too because they had wanted to meet there. When Nathan had come to this meeting, after he had brought me into the brothel, he had told everyone how he had got even with me. He´d had to answer to Ray because he hadn´t known anything about the kidnapping of a woman. So he had learned for the first time, that I was in America.

At first I didn´t thought he could talk about you. I´ve never expected you to be in America after all. How could I have believed him that you are married. With a Mohawk, that´s what he told me. "A dirty whore who would let an ox give it to her if the incentive is only big enough." That´s what he said about you. When your name was said, I let him describe your appearance. I really began to fear that he was talking about you, but it was too absurd. Until I saw you in Philadelphia, more than a week later. I would have recognized you everywhere, Lilly. You were sitting on a horse behind this Mohawk and you were about to leave the city. How much I wanted to run to you. How much I wanted to take you with me. But at this point in time, I couldn´t. Not yet. But be sure that Nathan paid for his crimes. Because I will never allow anyone to harm you and doubt your honour without being punished.

I already knew what this punishment had been, but I was forced to read it again. I had to read how proud Ray had been to have taken revenge for me. I had felt how Connor had trembled with suppressed anger while reading this letter. I didn´t know if it was because of the memories, Nathan´s insults or Ray´s horrible revenge. But when I had read the letter and had put it to the others, I grabbed Connor´s hands, which were folded in front of my belly and leaned my head against his shoulder. Silently we sat like this for some minutes, until we both had ordered our thoughts and I took the next letter. Now we knew which events we were approaching and once again I believed that my heart could jump out of my chest. At first, the next letter was about Ray´s explanations of his plans and that he wanted to meet me some day. At this point in time, he knew where I lived, but he wrote that he hadn´t been brave enough to come to me. But during this time, he gathered information about Connor. About his doings during the war and already then, he had got an opinion about Connor, which had never left him: That Connor was a traitor and above all, not good for me.

I don´t know if Nathan was right about what he said. That you´re married to this Connor because he forced you. But no matter if you´re with him willingly or not: I will protect you from him and bring you to safety. I owe you it, as your brother.

Then came the letter Ray had written after my visit in the fort. He wrote how horrified he had been to see me so all of the sudden. How much he had regretted to have broken my wrist. He had wanted to reveal himself to me, but had feared I could be scared by his appearance and had let me go because of his own fear. Then he had needed, weeks, months to visit me. Until December. The winter when I had been pregnant with Emily and when the homestead had suffered under scarce supplies. The day, when the roof of the barn had collapsed, Ray had found the courage and had wanted to talk to me.

I was as cowardly as a rabbit. I hid and watched your house. Watched Connor chopping wood and asked myself the whole time, if you´re inside. I didn´t want to go to you when he was with you, too. So I decided to wait. Until this old woman came to you, Connor left and then you left the house, too. I can´t tell how it felt to see you after such a long time, in daylight and close. You´ve become so adult, Lilly. Changed so much, but still I recognized my little sister. My little sister who´s now becoming a mother herself. A strange feeling, especially when I remember who the father is. But when I heard what happened and learned about your upcoming problems, I wanted to help you. Despite your traitorous friends. I wanted that you and your child want for nothing.

And so Ray had organised the cart with supplies. He hadn´t wrote from where. But the thought that he had watched us was still frightening me. Although I already knew that he had been the rider Connor and I had seen this night. But not only this day, he had watched us undetected. He even had been there the day Connor and I had had our terrible fight. He hadn´t noticed it, but he had seen how Connor had rode away angrily. But still he hadn´t wanted to visit me, always because of the same reason: He had been afraid of my reaction.
And then the last letter. Ray described our meeting by the edge of the forest, how hurting it had been for him to be sent away by me. How he had decided to make me talk to him. An ice cold shiver ran down my spine as I read the situation in out bedroom from his point of view. He had never really wanted to hurt Emily, but only had wanted to keep Connor at bay.

And still I can´t tell how angry I am with you. You don´t understand me! You let yourself been lulled by him and it frightens me, Lilly. What shall become of us? We are a family. We have to stay together, but I know that you´re doing it deep in your heart. You´re standing by me. You have to. Otherwise I´m afraid of what could happen. That it could end between us like it did between father and me.

I faltered more and more when I read the following lines. He had already said this sentence about my father to me when he had thrown the signature ring to me. Because of the ring, it had come to my mind that he had been the one who had killed my parents. And Ray confessed. In this last part of the letter, he described what had happened in this night, on this day. But when it became clear to me, I couldn´t keep reading. I didn´t want to read what Ray had done back then, although I knew that there was no way around it. All these years I had asked myself, what had happened back then. I had already answered this question on my own, but now the true answer was lying in front of me and again I became panic-stricken. With shaking hands, I lowered the letter and turned it so that I couldn´t look at the written lines anymore.
"I can´t read this", I whispered and crossed my arms in front of my chest, as if it could stop me from taking the letter again. "I want to, but I can´t."
Connor took a hand from my belly and ran it through my hair, as the first tears ran over my cheeks and my whole body began to tremble. I was overtaxed by my own reaction. I didn´t want to cry, but I was really afraid without knowing why. I already knew that Ray had killed my parents. But maybe it was different to see it from his point of view.
"You do not have to read it, if you do not feel ready", Connor whispered to me, but I shook my head.
"I have to", I said quietly and turned my head to him. "But…could you…could you read it out to me? I don´t dare to read it myself."
Connor looked me over, but with a nod he kissed my hair again. I carefully turned on my side and so I could bury my face in his chest, while he wrapped an arm around me and took the letter with his free hand. Under no circumstances, I wanted to see the words Connor was reading out to me. Although it was strange at first, to hear Ray´s words with Connor´s voice, I was less afraid of it than before. The sound of this beloved voice made the words more bearable, which he read out to me without hesitation and judgement.

"Otherwise I´m afraid of what could happen. That it could end between us like it did between father and me. I never told you what happened back then. Eighteen years ago. I was a coward and I still am because I didn´t tell you. I wanted it and didn´t dare to. Even now I couldn´t look into your eyes and so I write what happened. Hoping you will forgive me.
You know that I always said I wouldn´t care being father´s bastard. That I never wanted to have your surname. It was a lie, because I didn´t want you to feel bad for me. I hated being the bastard. I wanted to be seen and acknowledged. That I can be your proud, big brother. But you know that father always refused. He hated me, like your mother hated me.
It was painful to hear how father claimed that he hadn´t a son. How much he wished your mother to get pregnant again and give him an heir. But it never happened and he complained about that the family business is going to have another name. When you marry and your husband inherits everything. Lilly, you don´t believe how angry I have been. On this evening, when a business partner of father was there for dinner and you behaved wrong, I heard your parents talking about you. Your mother was angry and said that you could never become a wife, if you don´t let them make one out of you. She thought about how she could be stricter with you. They wanted to restrict you even more than they already did and why? Because father didn´t want to see that he already had a son and heir. I thought if he finally acknowledged me, every strictness would be taken from you and they would stop trying to make a wife out of you.
This evening, I went to him and wanted to talk to him about it. I wanted to convince him that he didn´t need to worry about the business because he had me as an heir. But he shouted at me, that I would never have any rights. He insulted me and then he grabbed my arm to throw me out. I hit his arm away and shrunk back from him. I was afraid of him, Lilly. I was twelve. A child and he was standing in front of me and shouted at me. And then it happened. When he approached me and wanted to grab me again, I took the paperweight from the desk and hit him. Out of fear I struck so hard that he collapsed in an instant when I hit his head. I was paralysed and more scared than before. Father was bleeding and didn´t breathe anymore. I wanted to run away, but then your mother stood in front of me. She screamed at me. Called me a bloody murderer and so I hit again. I hit her until she was silent. Then I heard how someone came upstairs who had heard her screams. I couldn´t do anything else but to flee. I took father´s ring – my right – climbed through the window and ran away.
I don´t know how long I have been away. Some days passed until I dared to come back. Everyone thought it had been a burglar who had killed your parents and I didn´t dare to say anything else. They would have hung me or worse. But I wanted to talk to you, so I visited you in your room. It broke my heart to see you cry. I wanted to tell you what I had done, hoping you would forgive me. But suddenly you had this glaring gaze you always have when you´re angry or convinced about something. You said you would hate your parent´s murderer and wished him to burn in hell. I couldn´t tell you. I didn´t want you to hate me. So I said nothing, over all these years. But I had decided to be always there for you and to care for you. I still want to do it today and I know that I will one day. When you came to your senses. I owe you it, my beloved sister. I will always owe you it.
Love, Ray"

I only heard a quiet rustling as Connor put the letter to the others and I felt the movement of his muscles when he leaned to the side to put the stack on the bedside table. I had closed my eyes and cried silent tears. I was confused. It sounded like Ray hadn´t wanted to kill my parents. He had done it out of fear. But did it make it better? Did it make it easier for me? The answer was "No" and still I felt that I couldn´t hate my brother for his crime. I even began to understand why he had wanted to tie me to him so desperately. Because of wrong regret and a likewise wrong understanding of love. Maybe even because of fear after everything he had gone through in the war. But he had lost himself. The Ray who had written those last letters wasn´t the same Ray I had send-off to America.
Connor carefully made me pull away from my crouching posture in his arms and lie on the mattress. Carefully he pushed my pillow under my head, turned off the light, laid down next to me, covered us up and embraced me.
"How are you now?", he asked quietly and I was glad he didn´t talk about the letters directly.
"I don´t know", I answered hoarsely. "I don´t know how I am supposed to understand what was written in the letters. Especially this last letter. But I think you were right. I had to read them."
Maybe I would never learn why Ray hadn´t sent these letters. But although I would be never able to legitimate his crimes, it had somehow helped me to understand him. I wasn´t as clueless as before. Many things had been explained which wasn´t pleasing me but which was giving me the feeling of being able to get over it. Certainly it was going to need some time until I would be actually able to forgive Ray. But I would be able to make peace with him at least. Furthermore, I knew I wasn´t alone with it.
"Thank you for being there for me", I whispered into the darkness and got a well-directed, tender kiss on my lips.
"I will always be there for you", Connor whispered to me and suddenly I had to remember this sentence Ray had always insisted on. Family sticks together.
I agreed with it, but this time there were only Connor, Emily and Caleb I was including in this thought. We would stick together. Not because of guilt, but simply because of real, honest love. With this thought, I closed my eyes and slid into a peaceful sleep.