Individual fates

We entered a small clearing, a small illuminated spot in the middle of the nocturnal darkness of the forest. Its centre was a provisional tent. A simple tarp, stretched between the trees. Several furs underneath it were used as beds where I could see three dark shocks of hair, peeking from underneath the blankets. A bit away from them flickered a campfire, a pot on a rack over it. A woman with ash blond hair had stood in front of it and had stirred the pot while trying to calm the constantly crying baby in her arms at the same time.

"She can't calm him down", I heard our companion mumble and as if she had heard him, the woman turned her head into our direction and hurried to us immediately, but stopped hesitantly as she finally noticed Connor and me and held the baby in her arms tighter.

"Where have you been?", she asked, without turning her eyes away from us. "And who the hell is this?" She spoke quietly, probably to not wake up the sleeping children in the tent and not scaring the baby any more, but still her suppressed fear and anger were clearly audible in her voice.

"I told you that I saw something. I wanted to check on it and found these two." Our companion turned to us and a crooked smile appeared on his face. "I am sorry, we didn't introduce ourselves. I'm Rodrick and this is my wife Jennifer. The little one is our youngest son Alan."

"Ratonhnhaké:ton and Lillian", Connor introduced us, too and I gave him a short glance from the side, as he introduced himself with his true name without hesitation. I had never seen him doing it directly, but in the face of his appearance, everything else would cause more questions than necessary. Rodrick nodded and turned to his wife again, who was still looking us over, her lips pressed together and rocking her child in her arms. Without success.

"They are on the run, too. They don't have much with them and no dry place to sleep. I thought we have enough space for two more in our tent and so I invited them."

"Oh, you did?" Jennifer's voice was sharp like a knife when she looked at her husband. "Just like that. You simply trust two strangers?"

"Do you think the king has spies in the form of dispossessed, young couples? Come on..."

"Do you know it better? A native and a white woman in native clothes. It doesn't seem weird to you?"

"That's exactly why I don't find them suspicious. It's too weird."

I felt a rising discomfort while the fight between the two became more and more heated. I could understand Jennifer's distrust, but this fight appeared very exaggerated to me. My helpless gaze moved to Connor, who was watching this spectacle that was still drowned by the baby's crying, with an unmoved expression and crossed arms. I couldn't. When I cleared my throat, the couple's whole attention turned to me and I tried not to step on the spot.

"There is no reason to fight", I started. "We don't want to cause any trouble. We will leave again."

I saw Connor nodding, but Rodrick raised his hand and shook his head. "You will stay. Please, Jen! Don't you trust me at all?"

Jennifer pressed her lips together and stared at some spot beside her husband. It didn't seem like she wanted to answer his question, but she nodded and without saying anything more, she returned to the fire. I heard Rodrick taking a sigh of relief and he visibly forced himself to smile when he indicated to us, that we should follow him to the fire, too. I felt uncomfortable in this tensed atmosphere between the couple. It felt like we were intruding their privacy, although we didn't really know them. But neither Connor, nor I said anything about what we had witnessed as we followed Rodrick's invitation and sat at the warm fire. The scent of several herbs rose from the pot. A tea Jennifer must have cooked and which she offered to us. Connor refused but I was grateful to have a cup of the hot drink. It had stopped raining but I was soaked and freezing, so I was grateful for the chance to warm up. Sipping on the tea, I let my gaze move to the tent as secretly as possible, where the other three children were still sleeping soundly while their parents were sitting tensely at the fire. Jennifer still tried to calm Alan who was still crying and Rodrick had leaned his rifle against a rock behind him and stretched his hands towards the fire. He still tried to appear calm, but the way he clenched his fists when he closed his hands, betrayed him. But his crooked smile was amazingly solid when he looked at Connor and me.

"I know there are certainly more pleasant things to talk about but may I ask how you ended up in the forest? Where are you from?"

I shortly glanced at Connor, not sure if and what we should reveal about ourselves. He returned it and just nodded slightly, the signal that he was taking over and I was glad about it. Connor had a better intuition for such situations where every wrong word could be fatal because Jennifer probably was still thinking we belonged to the enemy. A short silence, while Connor folded his hands in his lap and looked at the flames in front of him.

"My village is west of here. It was attacked last night and because it was my fault, we left."

Once again I was surprised by Connor's honesty, but I was also tempted to disagree to his last statement. The attack wasn't his fault, but as if he sensed my inner objection, Connor looked at me and shook his head. Rodrick had frowned in the meantime and gave Connor a questioning look. "I never heard that the king and his men were caring for the natives."

"He did not. But I sided with some villagers who were attacked. Benedict Arnold obviously took it as a reason for target my people."

Rodrick's eyes widened and he straightened up, before leaning to Connor. "It was you? The native who competed with the bluecoats? Who butchered them until nobody was left?"

"I did not butcher anybody and neither did I kill them all. I supported the villagers until Arno and his men retreated.

"Hm, it's told differently. To be honest, I never wanted to believe the stories. There are so many things told about you, but it's certain that you were the first man in a long time who stood up against them. You've earned the people's admiration for it."

"It did not feel this way when the villagers reproached me for my help." Connor had crossed his arms again, frowning and obviously anything but pleased about what he heard. Obviously some settlers had made him some sort of local celebrity and to accept this or to feel honoured didn't suit him. He didn't want to be a hero or a celebrity, but the admiration in Rodrick's eyes had been almost blazing and also now he raised a hand to wave aside.

"But it already subsided. In the end, everybody knows that they shouldn't accept how they are treated. But nobody dares to..."

"Oh, Rodrick shut up! Everybody has a good reason not to dare anything, don't you think?"

I winced when Jennifer interrupted her husband so rudely. Her eyes flared in anger when she looked at him. "And as if you would dare to rise and join the rebellion! You didn't do anything else but to drag us into the forest."

"Because you need me more than the rebellion does. What will happen to you and the children, if I join them?"

"As if it makes a difference if your with us or not." Jennifer's voice was cold as ice when she said this and I saw Rodrick wince. Pain flared up in his eyes and he lifted a hand, only to drop it back to his knee as if he had wanted to touch Jennifer, despite their separation through the fire. But she didn't even look at him and stared at the flames. Once again it felt like we shouldn't be here.

The following silence, only interrupted by the whiny hiccups of the baby, was nothing else but unpleasant. I wished I could hide in my cup, but I could only hold it at my lips and imagine I could hide behind it. Only when Connor cleared his throat, I dared to come out.

"You said something about a rebellion", Connor started, as if the fight between Jennifer and Rodrick had never happened. "What did you mean by it?"

Rodrick, who had stared into the flames almost resigning, raised his eyes again and again, he seemed to be surprised. "Didn't you hear about them?", he asked and Connor shook his head. "They are some sort of small...army of the most different kinds of people. Farmers, merchants, soldiers. I heard even redcoats are among them. They formed some time ago and are fighting against the king and his men. They want to overthrow the regime. A revolution, if you want to name it this way."

"Like the patriots against the British?"

Rodrick nodded after Connor's question and my husband thoughtfully turned his eyes to the fire. What we had just learned was very interesting for us. It seemed like this rebellion was having the same aims like us, or better to say, like Connor and this meant that he didn't need to fight alone and I didn't need to fear that he killed himself with his determination to avenge his mother and village. I felt hope when I turned to Rodrick and asked: "Do you know where to find them?"

The hunter slowly shook his head. "They are scattered. There is no main camp, if this is what you want to know, but I don't know any small camps either. They are secret, only known by the members. Who wants to find them has to talk with one of them. They are outnumbered, so they are careful. I didn't hear of them for quite a while."

It sounded terribly plausible and I felt that the hope was stamped into the ground again. To find the rebellion without any clues was going to be like the search for the needle in the haystack.

"What about Benedict Arnold? What do you know about him?" When Connor asked this, a bitter expression appeared on Rodrick's face and he glanced at his wife, who seemed to be more tensed than before.

"What everyone else knows", Rodrick growls. "That he's a vicious son of a bitch who would wipe the king's ass if he had to. He took up quarters in a fort near Valley Forge. He almost reigns it like a king himself. Sends his men to tyrannize the people in the name of the king. I think our not so noble king doesn't care about what Arnold is doing. As long as nobody turns against him."

While speaking, Rodrick's hatred against Arnold had been clearly visible. His gaze was glaring, especially when it turned to Jennifer who just sat there and didn't say anything. I couldn't hold it against him after everything I had heard about Arnold's ruthlessness. That he was ruthless stood out of the question, but maybe this word was still too harmless. How could you call someone who obviously loved to tyrannize people and didn't shy away from killing randomly? No matter if man, woman or child. I looked at Connor who appeared totally determined again, now that he had learned about Benedict Arnold's whereabouts. Searching for him was unnecessary, but I wouldn't be able to stop Connor anyway. But that I was going to support him as good as I could was out of the question.

I had a last sip from my tea and kept the empty but still warm cup in my hands. It was silent again, but nobody seemed to strive for another conversation. Only when little Alan calmed down and only sobered occasionally, life returned to Jennifer. She sighed quietly and obviously in relief and stood up. She made effort to go to the tent, but she stopped and looked down at me, obviously hesitating.

"Lillian, do you want to…come with me and prepare your bed for the night? I can show you where we have enough space."

Without further thinking, I stood up, grabbed our bundle and followed Jennifer to the tent. An oil lamp dangled from a post by the entrance and now I had a better view on the three little figures, cuddling under the fur and sleeping soundly. A smile flitted across my face when I saw this touching scene.

"Children always seem so peaceful when they are sleeping. As if they could cause no chaos", I said smirking when Jennifer took my empty cup and put it to the rest of used dishes. She simply nodded shortly.

"Maybe. It would be better if they had this peace when they are awake, too. But when they are awake, they are either too energetic or are simply afraid and I don't like any of this."

My smile disappeared after these bitter words and the likewise bitter expression in the other woman's face. What had she and her family endured that made her acting this way? Whatever it was, in the face of the general situation I couldn't hold it against Jennifer and I already regretted my words. Silently and carefully, I followed her to the left side of the tent which was about six feet wide. Jennifer pointed at a spot on the meadow we were on and said: "You can sleep here. We're just an arm's length away but I hope you don't mind."

I shook my head and smiled gratefully. "It's very kind of you to take us in."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Why shouldn't we help each other while everything perishes anyway?" She turned away with this cynical sentence, only to sat down on her own bed and to lay Alan on the fur. The little one uttered another quiet whimper.

"Not again. Be quiet." Jennifer's voice sounded desperate as she caressed her son's belly with her hands, after she had wrapped him out of the cloth. Slowly I lowered the bundle in my hand and kneeled down next to her, looking at Alan. I wasn't sure how old he could be. Maybe two or three months, but either way, he appeared tiny and weak. He hardly had the strength to lift his arms although he obviously wanted to grab for his mother. But I particularly noticed his swollen belly. I remembered when Emily had suffered under winds and terrible stomach aches, but I had never seen her belly so round and swollen. It almost looked unnatural and horrified me.

"Is he sick?", I asked concerned and saw Jennifer pressing her lips together.

"Hungry", was her short answer. "Like all of us. I don't have enough milk to nurse him, so I try to feed him with normal food. He doesn't tolerate it, but there is no other way to feed him." Her hands kept stroking over the swollen belly, but it would probably bring Alan only a short relief. He needed proper food, but if Jennifer wasn't able to give it to him...

I bit my bottom lip as I was seized by a wave of pity. The conditions the people here had to live in, kept showing themselves. On the run, afraid, without a safe home and above all hungry. I didn't want to imagine how it must feel like to be forced to make your children feel such sorrow and once again, I understood Jennifer's bitterness.

"Did you try herbs?", I asked carefully. "Against his stomach aches and also for your milk. I don't know much about it, but I heard there are ways to support the body in this issue."

Jennifer raised her eyes and looked at me under raised eyebrows. "Don't you think I already tried it? My husband is a hunter. I often dealt with the fruits of the forest, but I have no time to gather herbs and it's much difficult in this season anyway. But thanks for your suggestions."

I bit my bottom lip again, after she had turned to her son. Her voice had sounded anything but grateful. Rather offended because I had interfered at all.

With an oppressive feeling in my chest, I stood up and turned to the small space Jennifer had given to Connor and me. I loosened the strings around the bundle, before unrolling the furs and arranging them like in the nights before. The whole time, Jennifer was sitting by her son, who's crying grew quieter until it ended. I heard her sighing and stopped smoothening the last fur as Jennifer asked in a dull voice: "Do you have children?"

It hurt to think of Emily and that she couldn't, certainly didn't exist in this reality. But still I didn't know what to answer and so I chose a part of the truth: "We wish to have some."

I saw Jennifer nodding slowly. "Reconsider it. This isn't the time for raising children. I'm sure you will think I'm heartless, but sometimes I wished I was alone. Without children." Jennifer sat up and her hands stroked over her skirt while she was looking at her three little ones. "I love them all with all my heart, but I wished they didn't need to endure this. The three older ones can cope with it reasonably, but especially for Alan I thought it would have been better if he hadn't survived the birth. He would be safer in God's arms than he is in mine."

She said these words in such a calm tone which made me doubt that she hadn't had this thought for long already. It shocked me. It would be a natural impulse, especially for a mother, to ask herself how she could say something like this about her own child. To wish her own child dead. But although everything inside of me resisted accepting her words, I couldn't deny that I could understand her intention and one look at Alan confirmed it. He wasn't well. He wouldn't be able to grow up unhindered and healthy in the situation the family currently was in. He was so small and weak and he was suffering. How much must it hurt Jennifer to see him like this? I would have liked to say something to encourage Jennifer, but there was nothing I could have said without sounding like a hypocrite. I could neither tell her that everything was going to be alright, nor I could give her wise advices. I had never seen my child starving and could be happy about it. So I chose the only right thing: I stayed silent and sat down on our bed for the night, my hand constantly running through the fur. Although I had wanted to wait for Connor, I laid down anyway and cuddled up in the soft blanket. I was tired, but my mind had got so much to think about that I doubted I could sleep peacefully. I looked at Jennifer, who had also taken a more comfortable position and her gaze had moved outside to the fire, where the men were still sitting and talking quietly.

"Now they are both sitting there, keeping watch", she murmured. "But still they are going to realize that they can't be everywhere to protect us."

I didn't understand what her made saying this, but her voice was full of bitterness again so that I didn't dare to answer. Jennifer suffered so much that I almost thought I could feel the weight on her shoulders myself. I wished it was going to be taken off her sometime. That she could raise her children in peace. The four of them.


It had taken long until I had fallen asleep at last. Alan had kept crying from time to time and half asleep I had thought he was Emily and had wanted to get up and go to her. But then I always remembered that my child wasn't here and this realization kept hurting. When I had finally been able to fall asleep, I slept so deeply that I didn't notice how Connor eventually laid down next to me and stood up again a few hours later, to release Rodrick from his watch. When I woke up, he wasn't there, the tent was mostly dark and except of Rodrick's snore, it was silent. I turned onto my back and stared at the tarp which was like a stained, sandy sky above me. Day must be dawning, according to the faint light falling through it. Another morning in this odd reality. A sigh escaped my lips as I closed my eyes and stood up shortly afterwards, wrapped myself into the blanket and grabbed for my boots. I couldn't bear staying in this tent, alone with the family who was fast asleep, even Alan. I looked at Jennifer and Rodrick. You couldn't see the distance, which seemed to reign between them, now that they were sleeping. Rodrick had wrapped an arm around his wife, his head buried in her shoulder blades. They looked peaceful and still I had learned that they were suffering. I felt like an intruder, the longer I stayed here.

Quietly and carefully, I sneaked out of the tent, slipped into my boots and let my searching eyes wander over the clearing. The fire was already extinguished, the light of the dawning day fought its way through the leaves of the trees and made the morning dust on the ground shimmer. I could have entirely turned to admiring the beauty of nature, but it was far more important to me, that I couldn't see Connor anywhere. I started to get concerned and asked myself if he had gone hunting, but then I heard a quiet whistle in the trees above me. Confused I turned into its direction and only then I noticed the wooden platform in the top of the tree. Connor was kneeling on it and looked over the edge, down at me. Smirking I went to the tree and the ladder leaning against it, hung the warming fur over my arm and climbed up. Connor had leaned against the trunk by now and watched me taking a seat next to him and wrapping myself into the fur again, shivering.

"You could have stayed inside", he said and sounded almost reproachful, as he loosened my grip around the fur to lay it over his shoulders as well and pull me closer, so that he warmed me. I sighed quietly when I leaned my head against his shoulder.

"I don't well comfortable with the others", I said honestly. "I feel like an intruder. They have so many problems…"

Connor just nodded when I stopped and held me tighter for a moment. "I know. They have gone through terrible things in the last few months. Sometimes it is like the people's situation is far more worse than it was back then during the war. But the stories of these individual fates always seemed to be so far away. To hear about them now is…difficult to handle. Especially when I think of you."

"What about me?", I asked in confusion and frowned. "I think it will be much easier for us. It's only the two of us, they are six. And believe me, I will be fine. You don't need to worry." I smiled and raised my head to look at him, but Connor's eyes were serious, his jaw tensed, as he just stared straight forward.

"This is not what I mean. I want to do everything to protect you from what happened to Jennifer. The men we…I am going to deal with are much worse than all the criminals I dealt with during the war or anytime else. They are uncontrolled animals."

I had hardly been able to concentrate on his last two sentences. I was too confused by his remark about Jennifer. Obviously we were not talking about the same thing, at least not entirely. I had referred to the family's sorrow in general, but it seemed like I didn't know enough details and the thought alone made me feel a lump in my throat.

"What are you talking about?" I hardly dared to ask this, because a part of me already knew the answer. "What happened to Jennifer?"

Connor turned to me again and a concerned expression appeared on his face. "I thought...you talked about it. I mean...I saw that you had a serious conversation."

"We talked about her children and that she wished she wouldn't have to raise them under such conditions. Furthermore she said something like you, the men, couldn't be always there to protect us..." My voice had faded away during the last sentence. Something had come to my mind that made me shiver in horror while further thinking about it. Jennifer's behaviour towards Rodrick. Her remarks by the fire, when he had said he wanted to be there for his family and she had said his presence wouldn't make a difference. All of it revealed a terrible context with Connor's words.

"So the blue coats did something to her and Rodrick...wasn't able to protect her?", I asked quietly and shivered again, not only because of the morning cold. I didn't need Connor's confirming nod, but I wished it didn't exist. He hesitated, but after I asked him, he told me what Rodrick had told him yesterday by the fire. With the warning that he should keep an eye on me.

Three months ago, Arnold's soldiers had come to the family's house to demand the "levies", how they loved to call it. Rodrick had been on the hunt and Jennifer alone with the children. Back then she had been heavily pregnant, about a month before birth. But it hadn't put the soldiers off. It had confirmed them in their feeling of power in a sick way. They had raped her. In front of her children's eyes and had only left her when she had writhed in pain. The violence she had suffered had triggered labour and when Rodrick had come home, he had found his unsettled children and his wife, writhing on the floor. Nobody had cared that Alan had been born healthy and Jennifer's words, that she wished the little boy hadn't survived birth, got a far more terrible meaning. When I remembered Emily's birth, there was no memory of the pain but only of the joy and happiness I had felt when I had finally hold her in my arms. But how must Jennifer feel when thinking of this day? Yesterday in the tent, I had believed I could feel the weight on her shoulders, but now this thought seemed to be ridiculous. I would never be understand what she had gone through. When somebody had tried to rape me, I had escaped. I had suffered light physical and certainly mentally injuries, but they were healed and had left no scars. But Jennifer?

I took a deep, shivering breath as I closed my eyes and tried to bring my thoughts and feelings in order. It felt like everything was rushing through my mind at the same time. All the events I had witnessed in the last two days. All the terrible things I had learned about this time we had been thrown into. Everything created a dark picture sorrow and cruelty and once again I wished I could escape all of this. When I opened my eyes, they turned to the family's tent on their own accord.

"Do you think it can be ended?", I asked Connor quietly. "What the people are going through?"

"If you find the spring and destroy it…of course."

"You mean Arnold?"

Connor shook his head. "Did you not realize it yet? Arnold is a river, rising from the spring. The spring is Washington."

"You mean, after Arnold you want to find Washington, too? A…king?"

"A man." Connor looked at me and again I shivered as he looked right into my eyes and said in an icy tone. "'King' is a title and the man behind it is a creature of flesh and blood who you can find and destroy and I am not only talking about killing him. You can take his title and power from him and this is what I am going to do. If Washington loses his power, not only all of this will be over." In the middle of his sentence, he raised a hand and put it on my cheek while his eyes and voice became more gentle. "We will return home. To our daughter."