My enemy's weakness

Ratonhnhaké:ton and I had tried to follow the trace but had soon lost it between all the others on the forest's floor. But he was convinced that someone had sneaked out of the camp and had almost stumbled upon us in the process. He didn't say it, but he was probably asking himself, too, if it had been the traitor. Getting too far away from the camp was forbidden to everyone and that someone sneaked away like this, was very suspicious. But this concern seemed to disappear with sunrise.

We just sat by a campfire to have breakfast before our departure, as several men drew our attention. They had gathered around one of them, a young man in his early twenties, and were mocking him. They laughed about him and his blushed head which he kept low like a beaten dog. As it turned out, he had been caught last night as he had tried to sneak out of camp. Intimidated, he had to answer to Jefferson and had admitted that he had just sought the warmth of a woman, after all the lonely months in the camp. In a brothel. In the face of his honest regret and embarrassment, no one doubted him. As punishment, he had spent the night outside and under watch which probably had been more pleasant than the mocking of the men. Logan, who had just joined and told us about the young man's abomination, seemed to be very amused by it while I couldn't decide whether I felt sorry for him or not. Even though he had brought this upon himself. But I felt a certain relief because if he had sneaked away last night, he must have been the one who had hidden in the thicket and had tried to avoid Ratonhnhaké:ton and me.

My husband had no sympathy for the young man's adventure. His grim face, as Logan told us about it, said everything. Certainly, he had the same opinion as me. That the men had other problems but the satisfaction of their primal needs. Furthermore, I knew, that he had no sympathy for prostitution at all. Just like me, who had – for understandable reasons – developed a certain disdain for it, after I wouldn't have cared about it a few years ago. I was grateful for it. He was traveling a lot, after all, and for many married men, it was normal to satisfy their longing for their wives with the company of other women. But not for him.

"The men should pull themselves together. They are at war and when it is over, they can return to their wives", he said, as if he wanted to confirm my thoughts and I had to suppress a smirk, while Logan just laughed again and massaged the still visible bruise on his hand. This good mood left me quickly anyway, as I saw Haytham approaching us from the commando-tent. It was time.

"Well then, I guess this means goodbye", Logan said with a crooked smile as we rose and he bowed his head. "Take care of yourself. You'll never know who's behind the next corner, these days."

"I guess, this is more your concern than mine." I smiled weakly.

"Anyway. Keep it in mind."

I nodded and said goodbye, before Ratonhnhaké:ton and I went to the waiting Haytham and we returned to the commando-tent. There, I bid farewell to Jefferson and even Benjamin Franklin, who I had hardly seen recently. He had a tent for his own and was constantly watched. Most men still distrusted him, although he had shared much useful information with the rebellion by now. Both of them politely said goodbye to me and accompanied us to the edge of the camp, before we walked on alone. Ratonhnhaké:ton and Haytham both remained silent while we walked through the forest and along the road to the south and so did I. There was not much to say anyway. The whole time I was lost in my thoughts and tried to suppress the childish urge to stop and insist on staying in the camp. I had decided to leave and so I would do it.

We were certainly walking for half an hour and must have brought some distance between the camp and us, as we detected a cart in front of us. It was an ordinary, empty cart, pulled by a single, brown horse whose bony head told about its age. It had lowered its head and bottom lip, had bent its hindleg and seemed to enjoy being petted by its owner. A chubby man with white hair and a likewise white mustache. He gave us a friendly smile as we approached and shook Haytham's hand.

"Mr. Kenway. What a pleasure to see you again", he said and finally nodded at me and then at Ratonhnhaké:ton.

"It is a pleasure for me as well, Mr. Herman", Haytham replied. "May I introduce. Ratonhnhaké:ton and his partner, Lillian. She is the one we are going to entrust to you."

"And we are grateful for your help", I added and got a wide smile, as the old man waved aside.

"Oh, no. We love to help. My wife is already looking forward to having a young lady around." He laughed and patted the coach-box. "But we shouldn't stay here for too long. You never know, who's using this road."

Haytham nodded but as he saw Ratonhnhaké:ton and me exchanging a silent look of goodbye, he put a hand on Mr. Herman's shoulder. "I just have to talk to you about something", he said, while leading him a few steps away from us. I was grateful. The time to say goodbye seemed to come too suddenly and although it wasn't unexpected, I didn't feel ready.

"You should carry this with you", Ratonhnhaké:ton murmured and gave me the small knife I had wrapped into the bundle. Somehow I had hoped I wouldn't need to be armed for now. But maybe it was smarter to have it with me until I was safe. I fastened the sheath on my belt and only then, I raised my eyes to look into Ratonhnhaké:ton's. I saw the same reluctance in them, I felt inside me. But we shouldn't make this goodbye harder on ourselves than it already was.

"Take care of yourself and be careful about what you do. Remember what Kanen'tó:kon said", I said, quietly enough to be only heard by him.

"I will." Ratonhnhaké:ton gently put a hand on my cheek and let his fingertips run down my neck, where he pushed the collar of my shirt aside and touched his mother's necklace underneath it. Pain flared up in his eyes. He didn't simply say goodbye to me, but to the last memento of his mother, as well.

"Are you sure, you don't want to keep it with you?", I asked and wanted to take off the necklace, but he stopped me and shook his head.

"As I said before, it is safer with you. You will not lose it."

"You have my word."

A small smile formed on his lips and he tugged my collar back in place before pulling me into his arms and pressing a kiss on my hair. "I will do everything to keep our separation as short-lived as possible, I promise."

"As long as you stay careful." I smiled faintly and snuggled my head up against his chest until I could hear the regular beating of his heart. Closing my eyes, I tried to enjoy this embrace as good as possible, but the longer we remained like this, the more I felt tears rising into my eyes and before I began to cry, I carefully pulled away.

"I love you."

Ratonhnhaké:ton glanced over his shoulder to his father and Mr. Herman, who were still talking and so he bent down to me to lay his lips for a short, but loving kiss on mine. "And I love you", he replied and ran his fingertips over my suspiciously glowing cheek. But as I looked at the two men, too, they still had their backs turned to us. Mr. Herman had climbed onto the coach-box by now and it seemed to be time to say goodbye. Ratonhnhaké:ton gave me the small bundle and took my hand to help me up, as well. He kept it in his hand until the last words of goodbye were spoken and he had to step back, as Mr. Herman drove the horse on. I caught a short look into his eyes before I forced myself not to turn around again as Haytham and he grew smaller and smaller behind us.

It's not final. This won't be the last time you have seen him, I tried to convince myself and took a deep breath.

"In times like these, it's not easy to say goodbye."

We were driving for some time, by now and no one had said a word. I raised my eyes from the laces of the bundle in my lap which I had started to play with and looked into the friendly smiling face of Mr. Herman, who looked at me from the side. Timidly I returned the smile.

"Yes, indeed. He's the only family I got left. But if I can help to settle the rebellion, I will make this sacrifice."

"Yes, I heard that the men are rather tearing themselves apart than concentrating on the fight." Mr. Herman shook his head disapprovingly. "It's sad that they forget their upbringing and scare you away in the process."

"Well, they didn't scare me away", I objected and smirked. If necessary, I would have endured all the hostility as long as the rebellion hadn't forgotten their actual goal.

"But still, you are here now." Mr. Herman gave me another look from the side. "You know, I used to be in the military until I was too old to fight. My wife and I were separated far too often and you can believe me that it was as painful as it was necessary. But each separation brought us closer to one another. For love, separation is like the wind to the fire. It extinguishes the small and kindles the great." He smiled and let the reigns snap against the horse's croup. "So, chin up! There is always a good side in situations like yours. Even though it is always hard to see it."

The old man was probably right. Each separation Ratonhnhaké:ton and I had endured had been followed by a joyful reunion. The times when I missed him made it even clearer, how much he meant to me and so each moment we spent together was valuable and special on its own. Even the most trivial situations in everyday life when he helped me washing the dishes, for example. I smiled with the thought that I could miss these little things at all. But now that I thought of them, I did.

"May I ask, why you and your wife help the rebellion? It's dangerous, after all", I dared to continue the conversation. I appreciated that the Hermans wanted to take me in and I admired them for their bravery to stand up against Washington, while so many supporters of the rebellion had paid for it. Mr. Herman's answer to my question was a sad smile at first.

"We do it in memory of our four sons", he explained. "They fought on the side of the patriots and Washington against the red-coats. They fought and they died because they wanted to give this country its freedom They fought against the crown and not for another, more tyrannical being constituted. For my wife and me it's important to help the rebellion. Our boys would have wanted it."

I nodded understandingly. I could understand this motive. To lose your children must be terrible alone. But to witness that they had died in vain…

"I am sorry", I said quietly but Mr. Herman shook his head.

"It happened and we all hope that Washington will be gone, soon. Hopefully, your man will help with that. I already heard, that he…oh, damn it."

The farmer got pale, stopped his horse and the cart with it. I was scared, too, as I saw the five soldiers stepping out of the thicket beside the road and blocking it.

"Hide your knife", Mr. Herman murmured to me without turning his eyes away from the bluecoat who was approaching us. I did as I was told, threw the fabric of my skirt over the sheath and tried to put on a neutral face. There was nothing the soldiers could blame us for. Normally.

"Good day", the bluecoat greeted us, ridiculously polite. "You're coming from New York, I see. May I ask what you did there?"

"Selling goods, Sir", Mr. Herman answered, likewise friendly. "Vegetables mostly. Now we're looking forward to a second breakfast at home."

The bluecoat nodded slowly. "Well, well. Selling goods. You know that it's not safe in these woods, don't you? There are rebels here somewhere. You could get attacked in your unarmed state."

"Unfortunately, that is true, Sir. But until now, this road was always safe. Especially since your men are constantly present here."

I admired Mr. Herman for his ability to hold a calm and normal conversation. One look into the sneering faces of the other bluecoats and the cold smile of his conversation partner didn't give me a good feeling. They didn't believe his story and maybe even knew it better.

Oh, stop it. How should they? He is an old man, his cart is empty and they don't know me. They have no reason to suspect us.

"Sir, Miss? Please get off the cart", the bluecoat told us now and his comrades came closer. One of them grabbed the reins of the horse while the others kept their weapons in their firm grips. I gulped, grabbed the fabric of my skirt to keep the knife hidden, and did as I was told, just like Mr. Herman on the other side of the cart. He seemed more tensed now but kept up his friendly smile.

"You bought fur in town?", the bluecoat asked me and pointed at the bundle on the coach-box. I forced myself to smile as well and nodded.

"Yes. The nights are getting colder. I thought an additional blanket would be a good idea."

"Sounds reasonable." The soldier smiled smarmily and stepped closer to me, which made me wince back instinctively. Relax. Show no fear. You have nothing to hide.

The man, only a few centimeters taller than me and with that, ridiculously small for a man, looked me over and his smile grew wider. "You know, Miss. We are out here because last night, we were told about a woman, the rebellion wants to smuggle out of one of their camps into the south. Apparently, she's of use to our King and he wants her to be arrested and brought to him. Do you know anything about it?"

It felt like my blood turned to ice while my heart beat uncontrollably faster. Last night? South? Of use? Arrest? The thoughts were rushing through my head, concentrated like a swarm of birds. Who had told them? Who could have known details and tell them? Why should they arrest me, of all people? Why should I be of use to them? So someone else had sneaked out of the camp last night. Maybe the same person, Ratonhnhaké:ton and I had tried to follow. But no matter who it had been, I was in trouble and not only me. Mr. Herman as well, who was innocent.

"No, I am sorry, Sir. I don't know anything about it." My voice was calm compared to the chaos inside. Everything cried for escape but I stayed where I was and looked straight into the soldier's face. He leaned his head to the side and clicked his tongue.

"Oh, but as it happens, we have a quite reliable description of this woman. Dark brown, long hair. Probably braided and covered by a bonnet. Dark green, just like the one you're wearing. Clothes of the same color. But most importantly: Grey eyes and a special taste for Native jewelry." Before I could react, he had pulled my collar aside, just like Ratonhnhaké:ton had done before and looked triumphantly at Ziio's necklace. "This description fits you perfectly, Miss Lillian." The way he emphasized my name almost sounded triumphant and my stomach twisted. So they knew exactly who I was and there was nothing I could say to talk myself out of it.

A scraping sound and the muffled death cry of a man drew the attention away from me. My eyes wide in surprise, I stared at Mr. Herman, who had pulled out a saber from who-knows-where to attack the soldier in front of him. Without success. The bluecoat had reacted quickly and had thrust the bayonet of his musket into the old man's chest, whose dead body just hit the ground. I felt like frozen to the spot. My pulse was rushing and I could even feel and hear it in my ears. This couldn't be happening.

"I would suggest you come with us without resistance, Miss. And nothing will happen to you." The soldier in front of me couldn't hold back his mocking tone. He seemed to feel very powerful between his comrades and with all the senseless violence they were executing. I was afraid, but at the same time, I felt angry and as he wanted to grab me, this anger took over in a knee-jerk reaction. As an answer to his order, I tore out my knife and thrust it into his direction, only to hit his shoulder. The short blade bore into his flesh, he cried out and wanted to pull the knife out, which gave me enough time to whirl around and take to my heels. I ran down the road as fast as I could, into the direction we had come from and searched for a chance to get off the road and into the thicket. But just as I found one, a shot sounded behind me. A burning pain exploded in my right leg and crying out, I fell to the ground. I was too dazed to realize my fall at all, at first, but as the tears rose into my eyes and the pain seemed to run through my whole body, I sat up and looked to the source of the pain. I could only see a bleeding wound on my calf and only now I realized, that one of the soldiers had shot at me. But I didn't care if the bullet had grazed or hit me. A blue-dressed figure already hurried towards me and my instincts screamed at me to run. My hands and knees dug into the wet ground as I tried to stand up, biting my teeth. In vain. I couldn't use my leg properly and so I kept crawling. Not even thinking, I had no chance. After a few meters, strong hands grabbed my shoulders and tore me back. Screaming, I tried to hit the bluecoat. To kick him, to scratch him, but it needed a single strike of his rapier's handle against my temple and my world disappeared in darkness.

A loud rattle tore me back into consciousness. Blinking I opened my eyes and stared at the cracked stone wall in front of my nose. Cold, musty air was surrounding me, accompanied by the occasional jangling of metal and muffled whimpering and crying. A dull, throbbing pain spread from my right leg to my whole body and the ache in my head reminded me of what had happened on the road and I sat up in a jerk. I felt dizzy in an instant and a quiet groan escaped me, as my stomach turned in nausea. I almost succumbed to the urge to throw up but I forbade it to myself. No weaknesses, no matter where I was and what they wanted from me. Bent over and wrapping my arms around my belly, I looked around and saw that I was on the dirty floor of a little cell. Surrounded by cold stone and dim twilight, only interrupted by a few torches on the corridor. On the other side of the iron bars, stood a grimly looking bluecoat, who didn't belong to those who had attacked Mr. Herman and me.

"Get up!", he yelled and I heard a loud cracking as he turned a key in the lock of the door. I wished I could disobey but it wouldn't be smart regarding my situation. Imprisoned, injured, and unarmed even though the contrary wouldn't have made a difference. So I had nothing left but to put on a grim face and to sit up carefully. Possibly without flinching since the pain in my leg got worse as I put my weight on it.

"Come", was the next order which I followed staggering, then limping in pain. I didn't dare to ask where we were going as the bluecoat led me along a long corridor, past several other cells. I didn't dare to look into these cells, either. I only knew that they weren't empty. The whole scene – the narrow, dark corridor, the cells, the noises, and smells – reminded me of the pit in Newgate Prison. Back then, I had found a half-dead Ratonhnhaké:ton there and had feared for both of our lives, as I had been locked in the cell with him. A terrible experience that seemed to be so clear in my memory now, that I believed I was reliving it again. This time, without Ratonnhnhaké:ton. Luckily.

But why had they arrested me? Despite my allegiance to the rebellion, the soldier on the road had spoken about some use I had for them. Was this about Ratonhnhaké:ton? He was the only reason that came to my mind. How could I be of use for them otherwise? I was no danger to Washington and his army. Ratonhnhaké:ton was.

My mind ran in circles around this single question so that I hardly noticed being led up a broad staircase into another dark corridor that ended in front of a big archway, leading into an illuminated room. Well, "room" was an extreme understatement. Even the word "hall" couldn't describe the dimension of it and there was no description either for what was inside. A broad stone bridge led far into the room that was only illuminated by daylight, shining through huge, glass-less windows close to the ceiling which was also high above our heads. Beneath the bridge were several enclosures, separated by thick walls. Wolves, bears, cougars, bobcats. Almost every predator of the frontier was represented in these enclosures by one or several specimens. Their enclosures had been designed to resemble their natural habitats. There was even an artificial stream flowing through each enclosure, but seeing the animals caged like this tore my heart apart. They were nothing more than living trophies everyone, who walked over the bridge, could look at from above. This wasn't a life for them and certainly, it didn't suit their wild nature. But still, I couldn't deny that it was fascinating to see them so close and it was difficult to turn my eyes away, while the soldier led me over the bridge.

But as I raised my eyes anyway, my blood froze in my veins. There on the bridge, only a few meters away, stood no one else but George Washington. Dressed in the way he had been during his speech on the balcony. His crown on his head, the golden scepter in his hand. Even now, the Apple on its tip seemed to glow from the inside and its sight made me shiver. It felt like I could sense its power, stronger with every step towards it. My eyes couldn't turn away from the golden object until Washington turned to the soldier and me and sent the first away with a short order. Only then I looked into the face of the man, who had been Ratonhnhaké:ton's and my target since we had arrived in this twisted reality. Now I was standing in front of him. The Apple, probably our only way home, in reach. But I couldn't do anything. I stood like rooted to the spot and even if I had wanted to grab the Apple, I couldn't have done it. It wasn't my fear paralyzing me. It was something else. Something more fateful.

The Apple.

"Lillian, am I right?", Washington asked while I stared at the Piece of Eden again and a predatory smile curled his narrow lips. "I heard so much about you, or should I say: About the man you are with. This…savage." He spoke the last word with a disdain that could make you believe he was talking about some disgusting insect. "He caused some trouble for me and my men. He killed one of my best commanders and abducted another. He seems to be determined to achieve what these ridiculous rebels couldn't, is he not?"

A joyless laugh, that caused another involuntary shiver to run through my body. This man was nothing like the George Washington I had met on Mount Vernon. I hadn't really liked that Washington, but he had been far more sociable than this twisted version of him. This Washington, this man who called himself king, was not human. He was an ice-cold, emotion- and soulless pile of meat. His eyes lightless, dead, and his voice as sharp as a blade.

It seems like this is what endless power and the greed for it turns you into, I thought while following the glowing object on Washington's scepter with my eyes, until it disappeared from my field of view, as Washington slowly walked around me. Like a predator circling its prey.

"I hate to admit it, but he actually caused me a headache", Washington continued. "I have never seen him in person but still he is like an annoying fly, buzzing around my head and impossible to smash." I winced as the metallic sound of the scepter hitting the bridge's balustrade echoed through the hall. "Everyone keeps talking about him. About what he did and what he could do and I am sick of it. There are so many matters I have to turn to. More important matters and this savage keeps pushing himself into the center of the common attention." He stopped in front of me and looked me over with these dead eyes. "I tried to gather as much information about him as possible but it truly isn't easy. It seems like no one knows anything about him and his people are nowhere to be found. It's difficult to fight an enemy you don't know and I hate it when I do not know my enemies."

The break he took seemed almost waiting. Was this what he wanted from me? Information? He had arrested me so that I told him everything about Ratonhnhaké:ton? He could try long for that. I would rather die than to help him harming Ratonhnhaké:ton.

As if Washington had read my mind, he curled his lips into a crooked smile and I winced as he put his scepter from one hand into the other. As if I was expecting an attack. "You are not here to talk, Lillian. Others did before you. Believe me, my men are everywhere and through them, I could learn one interesting thing or two. That's why you are here now and that's why you are not in front of the palace to be beheaded for high treason, yet."

He walked past me and ordered me to follow him. I did, reluctantly though, but again it felt like I had no other choice. Washington led me over the bridge, into the direction I had come from, and finally stopped at the balustrade. I followed his example and looked down into the enclosers beneath us. Like the others, it resembled the frontier's forests. In the right enclosure lived a pack of wolves. Five animals, roaming restlessly between the trees and bushes and growling from time to time. Their furs were dull and tousled, just like the fur of the bear, living in the enclosure to their left. He was restless as well and looked anything but healthy. Life in captivity didn't do them good. It was way too obvious.

"Fascinating, aren't they?", Washington asked me, his pride hearable in his voice. "All these animals were especially captured for these enclosures. There is no king who can call several of the mightiest predators in his country his own."

His own. These animals didn't belong to anyone. Only to themselves and I wished I could tell him that, but I couldn't bring a sound over my lips. Was it the Apple that made me as mute and motionless as a puppet? But how did Washington do it? How did he use the Apple's power for himself?

"The wolves have a special place in my heart, by the way", he said as if we were on an expedition and he wanted to show me the wonders of mother nature. "They live and hunt in packs and only together, they are strong. Together, they could be a match for a full-grown bear like this. But the most interesting thing about them is their hierarchy. They are almost as organized as men, can you believe it? Their leader is almost inviolable. He's the strongest among them. They all follow his lead, in their everyday life and on the hunt. They are lost without him, as long as they don't find a new leader. But the question is: What happens to the leader if he is separated from his pack?"

Again, Washington hit his scepter against the balustrade and a hatch at the backside of the bear's enclosure opened. A single, ashen wolf was driven inside. He was big, bigger than the wolves on the other side, and even through its thick fur, you could see the movement of his muscles as he walked through the opening and stopped all of the sudden. The animal's hackles rose as it stared at the bear, only a few feet away. The bear had noticed the intruder as well and stood on its hind paws with a roar. I got cold as I realized what the meeting of these animals was supposed to achieve. They were both aggressive and none of them had the chance to avoid the other. They would threaten each other until one of them attacked.

This is madness, I thought and wished I could beg Washington to stop this cruel game. But I remained silent and could only watch how the wolf positioned himself to jump and attacked, baring his teeth. He jumped at the bear's throat, who dropped onto his front paws with a loud roar and struck its attacker with its claws. The wolf uttered a mixture of barking and howling as he was thrown aside, but stood up immediately. His mouth bloody, he circled the bear who bared its sharp teeth as well and didn't turn its eyes away. Then the wolf attacked again and what followed, was a chaos of fur, sharp claws, bloody fangs, and the growling, roaring, and howling of the animals, fighting each other mercilessly to the blood. It was a fight to the death whose winner was impossible to decide for some time. Once it was the wolf, who managed to climb onto the bear's back and sink his teeth into the back of its neck. Then the bear managed to get the wolf off itself and beat him with its powerful paws which could easily break every bone of the smaller animal. As much as I wanted to close my eyes in front of this cruel display, I couldn't. I was forced to watch until a final, loud howl cut the air and echoed from the walls. The bear had ripped the wolf's throat with its strong fangs and let go of its dead opponent. Its own body was covered in bloody wounds and it limped heavily as it dragged itself to the stream in its enclosure.

"Did you see it?", Washington asked and still sounded so casual in the face of the cruelty we had just witnessed. "The strong leader fought well, but on his own, he was powerless. His pack is his strength and it is his weakness as well. And it's my enemy's weakness, I am looking for."

He turned to me and looked me over with a scornful smile. "After all the stories they tell about the savage, it seems like he has no weaknesses at all. But thanks to a reliable source, I know now, that this is not true. His weakness is standing right in front of me." He cocked his head. "I was told he never leaves your side and protects you. That you are the only one he trusts. How ironic that it's always a woman, who brings a man down sooner or later."

For the first time, since I stood in front of him, I managed to control my body. I shook my head. Weakly at first, but then stronger since my mouth still didn't obey. Washington could try whatever he wanted. I wouldn't help him and let him use me. I didn't want to be Ratonhnhaké:ton's weakness if it meant, that he had to die because of it. But Washington's smile grew brighter in the face of my silent reluctance. He raised a hand and indicated to the soldier, who had brought me here, to step to us.

"Bring her back to her cell. You will help me to finally smash this irritating fly, Lillian. If you want it or not. I'm sure of it."