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Description
1781 July
She had ridden as hard as she could with out risking her stead. Through the frontier and on to New York. Throwing in with her troupe, melding back into the fold of starving children and the few adults that looked out for them. The fire had ripped through a large portion of the city, leaving it abandoned, chard skeletal buildings were all that were left scattered about the area like a graveyard. The informant army she built ten years ago in Boston had expanded flowing through the cities, the patter of little feet unmistakable to ears that knew it was there. To the rest no more than rats running through gutters.
Slipping into the heavy wooden door of the local tavern she picked a table down the back with the hopes of finding a mark. Her eyes scanned the men and the few women in the room. A few soldiers stuck together in clumps but the majority were farmers or tradesmen Weary and grumpy after a long days work.
She heard the door groan and open wide as more came in off the street. Her breath caught in her throat she recognised the gloved hand, and eagle cuff that pushed the door. She froze, there was no point in running, this day was always going to come. It had been so long since she had last seen him. Of course his mad dog Charles Lee was lapping at his heals. The hair on the back of her neck prickled as they made their way towards her and took a seat each side of her.
"Just the girl I wanted to see." Haytham spoke softly as he placed his hands on the table. Suddenly it was like she was a child again looking up to the dapper gentleman.
"Lovely Lizbeth. I have a job for you my dear."
"I'm sorry Haytham, I'm not up for any commissions." She answered flatly
"You know I missed you." He continued talking ignoring her protests "though this last year I have been apprised on your exploits, stealing from Captian Renold And then breaking into and destroying the Red coats Fort was excellent work. Not your usual skill set but I suppose the Assassin did help. Which is why I'm here"
"No Haytham." She repeated
"I hear he's quite smitten on you, with half the work done, what's wrong with taking a little coin for the last of it? After all so many years ago you did fancy the boy. What's the price of a mans heart these days?"
Her gaze flicked up to his hurt in her eyes "You're cruel Haytham."
"And you're sleeping with my son, now we have both said something obvious shall we get to business." His words hit her like a knife cutting her to the wick, debasing her relationship with one sentence.
"I'll not turn on him." Any lack of conviction had gone, steel had reinforced her spine.
"Very well." Haytham nodded to Lee behind her. She barely had time to turn as she was snapped up out of her seat and lifted into the air.
She gasped, squirming against her captor as he dragged her out the door. Latching on to the frame she pulled against Lee with all her strength
"Don't do this to me Haytham." She screamed before he wrenched her hands free and pulled her out into the street.

Lee dropped her onto the street pulling a length of rope from his pocket.
"Oh you came prepared I see." She laughed sarcastically picking her self up out of the dirt. He placed a boot between her shoulder blades and wrenched her hands behind her back beginning to bind them.
"I know better than to give you an inch." He growled into her ear.
"Well I was taught by one of the best." She mumbled in defiance
He lifted her roughly and grabbed a handful of her hair. "As was I."
"I guess he just liked me more."
Lee dragged her across the cobble path to the horse trough plunging her face first into the icy water. She spluttered unable to fight back. Breath bubbling from her lungs to the surface, unable to gasp again, her lungs began to catch fire, her mind fill with terror. she was pulled up. She sucked in the sweet air like she had never taken a breath in her life.
"Is that why you shacked up with the boy? Just enough like master Haytham to satisfy you."
She smiled "Is that jealousy I hear Charles. After all a kiss from me cost you an earlobe once." She blew the dripping water out of her mouth. Baiting him with every word. Again she plunged into the watery depths of the trough.

She spluttered out in the air and coughed chest heaving trying to regain some composure.
"Must have devastated you, losing masters favour, to a girl and a savage." This time she managed a breath before he shoved her back in the water. She was ready when she surfaced. She whipped her head forward catching the bridge of his noes with her forehead, then spat at him. The game of sharp words was over. He hauled her to her feet by her hair pulled back and hit her. Pain exploded through her jaw his Templar ring catching her lip. She fell heavily with no hands to catch herself back onto the dirt. A boot collided with her back.
"I'm going to enjoy your death most of all." She hissed through the pain. "Be guaranteed I will smile when I watch the life flicker out of your eyes."
He kicked her a second time, so hard she felt a stabbing pain splinter up her side.
"Charles." Haytham's commanding voice carried through the night. Lee froze like the obedient animal he was and she heard the Grand Master approach.
The foot steps stopped at her head and she saw him crouch down to her. A large strong hand helped to her knees. Like when she was a child he took her chin in his hand taking a pocket handkerchief he dabbed at the blood pooling at her lips. Relief flooded her face as she looked at him, trusting his touch.
"An excellent tactic." He said "railing your torturer up so he neglected to ask the appropriate questions." His eyebrows knotted together genuine Concern filled his eyes. "Would have worked right up until the point where he either drowned you or beat you to death."
"The risks we take." She managed to say her voice husky from coughing.
"This is foolish." He scolded her "turning against me? I took you in treated you like one of my own."
She laughed showing off her bloody teeth "I have seen how you treat your own. This is fairly accurate."
His grip tightened on jaw squeezing so tight it hurt, she winced.
"I have had about enough of your insolence." His rage was more than visible tearing across his face.
"There is nothing I can tell you, even if i would."
His wrist flexed and the hidden blade snaked out from his sleeve he held it to her cheek.
"And if I threaten to kill you unless you tell me what I want to know?"
"Then there is one more body to bury in the morning."
Haytham flinched, there was no defiance, the rage and spite that she had egged Charles on with had been washed away as soon as he had touched her. The audacity and childish insubordination that she had shown him, melted with her words into fear, and betrayal as she realised she could be one more body on the road. It was the same look he had received from Connor last time they spoke.
He let her go, she slumped back to her knees hanging her head. Sheathing his blade he stood up. "Lock her up." He said finally to Charles who preceded to roughly haul her to her feet.
"I asked him why." She called out to Haytham as she was being marched away. She spat the words out like a threat that only he understood.
"Sir?" Lee asked as Haytham's face darkened ominously
"I asked Connor why he had to kill you." She reiterated The conversation they had years ago at the dinner table surfacing she could see it on his face too. Her omission slowly coming to pass before them.
"Take her away." Was all he could say.
***
She paced back and forwards in the cell. She could hear the other in mates below her, hooting, talking fighting. She wasn't allowed out of her tiny stone and metal cell. Her only companions were the rats and drips. As the only woman in the institution they thought it best to keep her safely locked away she was not allowed out while the other inmates were out. She had been stripped of her own clothes on entry, the prison rags the same as every one else's, the rough spun shirt hanging past her knees pants tied with a rope.
She had her own private Guard, but he never came close and almost never spoke to her. So she marched back and forwards until her feet were raw, then she lay on the questionable mat they called a bed. Listing to the shouting and the swearing and trying to avoid the smell. Avoiding thinking about the knot of worry that grew in her gut every day.

"You hear?"
"Hear what?" One guard rasped to the other late one afternoon.
"That Assassin got him, at Fort George. They say the beast took a hit from a cannon ball but still managed to put a blade through his throat."
Lizbeth leaped to her feet. Pressing her face as close to the bars as she could trying to hear more but the guards separated her personal watcher pacing back along to her cell.
"Hey." She called out "what were you just saying about the Assassin."
"What's it to you?" He grumped coming over to her
"Absolutely everything. Who'd he get?" It was plain to hear the urgency in her. Her mouth had gone dry, Fort George it could be either Haytham or Lee. Though she wished to be there to witness Lee's passing she prayed it was him that had met Connor's blade. Maybe Connor was right perhaps she did still somewhere in the back of her mind owe Haytham some loyalty, cared for him even. He had taken her in, taught her to survive. He had shown her mercy when every one overlooked her. At least she had cared for the man that he was.
"That man," the guard snapped his figures conjuring up the name. "Kenway, ah. Haytham that's it."
Her hands went to her mouth. "And Connor?" She asked her voice a horse whisper "The Assassin?"
"Took off, I presume to do in the next one."
A bizarre numbness flooded her senses as the two polarising emotions fought a battle in her skull for a moment. On the one hand Haytham was dead, it saddened her, it pinched at a corner of her heart brining tears to the surface.
On the other hand Connor lived, survived relatively unscathed, and that had been what she was more worried about. She laughed as she let the relief beat the grief.
"What?" The guard demanded
She swallowed "Charles Lee where was he posted."
"It don't matter where he was posted, he's dropped everything for this Haytham's Funeral. They are all heading back to Boston for the event, taking all sorts of men with him."
She leaned causally against the bars "feeling a little short staffed?"
He sighed heavily and stepped closer to the bars, "more than a little. We're all working double shifts, if these reprobates figure out that there's three of them to one of us. Well!"
"Three to One." She muttered "those odds aren't in your favour." A sly grin spread across her lips as her brain started to formulate a plan. Looking as far as she could left and right, she realised he was alone on this level.
She reached out through the bars, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him with all her might face first into the un wavering metal. He uttered a short groan before slumping into unconsciousness. With one had holding him up she riffled around his waist for his keyring. She was quickly rewarded. Allowing him to slump into painful slumber she unlocked the door and slid him inside locking him up.
Surrounded by cells on the top most floor she knew the entrance and exit was below her and below that the convicts out for their free time.
She stuck her head over the railing "gentlemen." She cried as loud as she was able. Swinging over the bars and hanging over for all to see as the noise ebbed to nothing and all eyes turned to her. "Gentlemen. Your freedom is at hand." Rattling the keys next to her head she smiled "first in first served."
An unnatural wave of stillness engulfed the prison, all parties involved thought about her offer. Then an explosion of movement, bodies forced together racing up the stairs towards her climbing over one another fighting each other.
The guards equally terrified struggled with their locks attempting to run in to aid their comrades caught in the midst of the riot.
Pandaemonium ensued, noise roared through the building. She mounted the railing throwing her self into the throngs of body's. the doors were already open with the guards trying to subdue the crowd, their muskets useless in close quarters the convicts numbers simply over whelming them.
Pushing through the unmanned gates, bare feet slapping against cold stone, she ran for the door to the outside world, one final lock and she spilled out onto the street. Leaving the door open for those luckily enough to follow.
Daylight burned her eyes, and she could feel the heat of the sun for the first time in days. Common folk past about the streets paying her no mind as she tried to find a way to get to Boston.
A familiar dark head of hair bounded up the cobbles leading a horse.
"Kara!" She shouted running up to her old friend and kissing her on the cheek. "You utterly fantastic girl."
Kara laughed "we've had some on on the prison since you went in, figured you'd want a
Quick escape."
She ran her hands over the horses muzzle. The cream and white mare was bright eyed and eager to run. "You took such good care of her too."
"You seem attached."
Lizbeth mounted "thank you. I'll find away to repay you." Turning the horse and spurring it off towards the out skirts of town.
Kara smiled watching her friend race off. "You don't need to." She whispered to herself.

Hooves rattled across cobbles until there were no more streets. Thumped across farmland jumping fences dodging people until there were no signs of civilisation left. Trees whipped passed and still she pushed on. Light dropped with it the temperature she stopped only to rest her poor weary animal, and to not risk injuring her. In the thick of the frontier moon light barely broke through the tree line. The Forrest floor was pitch, noises of animals rabbits and raccoons foraging for food, there was signs of larger animals too, but for now they left her alone. Worry kept her awake, absentminded patting of the horse the only function she was capable of in the darkness. She nudged her sensing something was wrong with her master, Lizbeth's mind was in Boston, walking the streets analysing what might be happening. Where the funeral was taking place. Surly that's where Connor would strike. Far to obvious for her liking but Connor was a direct man, he would take Lee head on and give him a fighting chance, even though all he deserved was a knife in the back.

With first light she was off again, passing frontiersmen and travellers her and her steed panting hard.
Pouring put of the trees and down the hill into Brooklyn she slowed to a canter to peruse the districts for any sign. Men filed out onto the streets, she saw two or three break off into another direction struggling with something in between them. She reared the horse for a tight turn people flooding the streets, she was penned in, she could feel the mare begin to get agitated huffing and thumping the ground with her foot. A fight ensued, white coat battling against blue. One man went down then the next.
"Connor!" She screamed but her voice was lost with in the rabble of people. Putting down the last man he ran taking off along the street after a foe she couldn't see, a foe she could only imagine was Lee.
She growled to herself, her mare reacting to annoyance jumped forward causing people to spill out of the way. Taking the long way on horse back she found his trail. As she started to make headway on him he turned down an alley.
Again she groaned spinning around looking for a way to follow. She could follow on foot maybe make up some ground in the short cuts but there was no way she could catch him in a straight sprint across open ground. She went wide back on the open street following the paved roads in the general direction he had been going. Slowing she was looking for signs anything to alert her to where they had gone. She had come to the docks. Wood groaned while the water slapped the hulls of the ships. She could hear a bang and crash in amongst the peace. Sounds of planks falling, becoming loader than the sound of hammering a building. Suddenly there was a crescendo of destruction, splintering wood hitting the ground and splashing to the water below. Then silence, she swallowed a dryness in her throat edging towards the sound.
A crack of gunfire ripped through the quiet, her mare reared, she heard a yell and as she was calming her stead a familiar form limped out of the dust.
Lee clutched his bloody side, stumbling from the wreckage, no Connor behind him.
She felt the blood drain from her face. Dropping the reigns she ran in the way Lee had come out. Fighting the dust she saw a crumpled figure lying on the ground.
Thoughts didn't process as she ran to him dropping to her knees, her mouth opened but she couldn't think of words nor force her throat to make a sound. He moved, pulling him self up and forward. He paused to look up at her, face spattered with dust dirt blood and war paint, Dark hair cut into a Mohawk. "We have to stop meeting like this." He panted trying to get his footing.
"If we didn't, one of us would surely die." She whispered laying a hand on his shoulder. He stumbled forward catching himself on her.
"Connor stop." She held his shoulders. "You have to stop now."
She could see the hunk of wood jutting from his abdomen.
"I must find Lee." He attempted to push against her, but she could feel his strength leaving him. He wrapped his hands around the wood and wrenched it free, groaning through gritted teeth as he did and then attempting to stand.
His legs folded, Lizbeth caught him and helped lower him to the ground.
"You will find Lee." She told him he could see the pain in her face seeing him like this "but I'm not letting you die on me. Not now. So sit still and give me a minute." She took off out side.

Connor lay in the dirt in the collapsed half built ship. He did as Lizbeth bade, not having the energy to do anything else, his mind began to wander, thinking of happier times, thinking to the homestead and his friends. A conversation at Maurice's wedding came to mind, as the men talked about the lonely bachelors life. He had never paid it mind, far to focused on tasks at hand for years to think of love.
"So why didn't you manage to snaffle that lovely red head that arrived a disappeared all in a day?" His friend joked "her fault or yours?"
He chuckled "I would make a terrible husband, I have no time to give."
"So your fault." They laughed
"It's not so much time and love." Godfrey interrupted his thick Scottish brogue making his pearl of wisdom sound cryptic. "as finding a woman as mad as you, some one who will stand by you even if she thinks your an idiot." He looked kindly over to his own wife Catherine "see the thing with women is you think they are all soft, nothing but feelings, but they are like fire. They are beautiful and warm and when you piss 'em off they burn your house down."
He had laughed, but he should have listened more closely.

Lizbeth returned to her position, by his side she placed a old beaten cup, threw a large needle in it and pulling the cork out of a bottle she had procured, drowned it in something that smelled flammable. She took a swig her self. Pulling a face at the strong tart flavour that slipped over her tongue down into her stomach, settling nerves.
She passed him the drink. "This is going to hurt. A lot." She emphasised the last two words. He nodded.
Taking the short sword off his belt she began to cut the base of her shirt into strips she had more than enough spare fabric.
"Where have you been?" He asked finally seeing the rough tunic and dark pants that were clearly not her own.
"Prison." She informed him simply pulling some of the fibres from edges of her newly cut bandages she sterilised them with the alcohol and threaded the needle.
Peeling away his bloodied clothes from the wound she took a final deep breath. And set to work.

Back alley field medicine and a few more swigs of powerful homebrew, and Lizbeth was true to her word. Getting him back on his feet and moving towards his final goal of Killing Charles Lee.
"You came early" Connor spoke softly, she had an arm around his waist and was helping him walk towards the ferry in the direction she had seen Lee take. Gathering her horse as they went.
"I'm glad I did." She smiled sadly, the corners of her eyes still shrouded with concern "and people say I'm trouble."

Together they hunted Lee through the frontier, weeks they followed his trail. Self proclaimed city girl Lizbeth adapted to life on the move in the wilderness. Though she still wasn't use to the strange noises and animal cries that filled the night. It made her the best option for the nights watch, while she kept an eye on Connor. His wound had been deep and frightening, he had only allowed enough time to get more bandages but no time to rest and see a doctor. Thought there was no sign of fever but it only took a small infection and the tides would change. He was thankful for his vigilant nurse, her unwavering support keeping him moving through the frontier when his own stubbornness wavered.
A tavern glowed from the centre of a small community. Their trail ended in it. Lizbeth tethered the ever patient mare out side, and held the door open for Conner. He entered under his own power, un sheathing his dagger. They approached a table one loan man sat drinking. Slouched as if he were in pain. The back of his dark hair un mistakenly Lee.
Connor took the free seat and sat down across from him. Lizbeth almost didn't want to watch. Charles Lee whom she had always referred to as Haytham's mad dog, who had terrified her when she was young, barely moved when his adversary sat before him. Like a tired wounded animal staring at his own unavoidable end.
Taking her stance behind Connor she looked on Lee with unforgiving eyes. He sat up in her presence his eyes flicking between each of them. She could smell the odour of a wound gone to rot. Is that why after weeks of running had he finally stopped. He Took a swig out of the bottle before sliding it across to Connor. The same stubborn resolve resided in him despite the gauntness of his features. He watched Connor drink the two men silently loathing each other. Connor reached forward taking Charles by the shoulder and pulling him towards his blade. There was no words no last stutter of hatred, or confessions a gurgled began low in his throat then stopped as he exhaled falling forward. Connor reached for the medallion Lee wore and ripped it from his neck. Lizbeth didn't move she waited for that last long breath to sputter out of him, she waited a little longer to make sure he wouldn't breath again, but she didn't smile.

1781 December
Homestead buzzed as it did every morning. Beaming over the community the sun gave the day extra warmth, reflecting off the thick layer of snow from the night before.
Lizbeth had the children on the porch taking advantage of the glorious morning. She was drawing letters and words in the ice that crusted the wood with her finger, encouraging the children to do the same.
She paused in her lessons for a moment hearing a long confidant stride crunch towards the house. Her smile was unmistakeable as she saw the familiar dark hair, white coat and cream and white mare. He walked slowly with heavy steps, something weighed heavily on his shoulders. She was just glad to see him.
Whipping her hands off on her skirts she turned to the children.
"Off you go, have a wee play."
They looked at each other before taking off as fast as they were able "Where I can see you." She finished sternly. Descending to the front step.

Connor approached the porch, as Lizbeth threw open her arms to welcome him. He caught her in a hug burying his head into her curls, the step gave her enough extra height to be almost the same size. He drank her in, every part. Wearing the pale blue dress she was given when she first arrived. Half of his worries had melted away as he saw her on the step, still in his life, waiting for him. A strangely happy look in her eye.There had been a risk in his leaving alone that she would have drifted away, disappearing like she was good at.
"What happened?" She asked knowing him well enough to read the signs.
"You were right in the end." He didn't raise his head "they were chased out. The whole village is gone."
"I never wanted to be." She spoke softly running her hands through his hair.
"What do we do now?"
She smiled, reassuring him taking a hand and placing it on her belly.
"We start again." She told him a strange knowing sound to her voice "a new brotherhood and a new family."

Description
1781 July
She had ridden as hard as she could with out risking her stead. Through the frontier and on to New York. Throwing in with her troupe, melding back into the fold of starving children and the few adults that looked out for them. The fire had ripped through a large portion of the city, leaving it abandoned, chard skeletal buildings were all that were left scattered about the area like a graveyard. The informant army she built ten years ago in Boston had expanded flowing through the cities, the patter of little feet unmistakable to ears that knew it was there. To the rest no more than rats running through gutters.
Slipping into the heavy wooden door of the local tavern she picked a table down the back with the hopes of finding a mark. Her eyes scanned the men and the few women in the room. A few soldiers stuck together in clumps but the majority were farmers or tradesmen Weary and grumpy after a long days work.
She heard the door groan and open wide as more came in off the street. Her breath caught in her throat she recognised the gloved hand, and eagle cuff that pushed the door. She froze, there was no point in running, this day was always going to come. It had been so long since she had last seen him. Of course his mad dog Charles Lee was lapping at his heals. The hair on the back of her neck prickled as they made their way towards her and took a seat each side of her.
"Just the girl I wanted to see." Haytham spoke softly as he placed his hands on the table. Suddenly it was like she was a child again looking up to the dapper gentleman.
"Lovely Lizbeth. I have a job for you my dear."
"I'm sorry Haytham, I'm not up for any commissions." She answered flatly
"You know I missed you." He continued talking ignoring her protests "though this last year I have been apprised on your exploits, stealing from Captian Renold And then breaking into and destroying the Red coats Fort was excellent work. Not your usual skill set but I suppose the Assassin did help. Which is why I'm here"
"No Haytham." She repeated
"I hear he's quite smitten on you, with half the work done, what's wrong with taking a little coin for the last of it? After all so many years ago you did fancy the boy. What's the price of a mans heart these days?"
Her gaze flicked up to his hurt in her eyes "You're cruel Haytham."
"And you're sleeping with my son, now we have both said something obvious shall we get to business." His words hit her like a knife cutting her to the wick, debasing her relationship with one sentence.
"I'll not turn on him." Any lack of conviction had gone, steel had reinforced her spine.
"Very well." Haytham nodded to Lee behind her. She barely had time to turn as she was snapped up out of her seat and lifted into the air.
She gasped, squirming against her captor as he dragged her out the door. Latching on to the frame she pulled against Lee with all her strength
"Don't do this to me Haytham." She screamed before he wrenched her hands free and pulled her out into the street.

Lee dropped her onto the street pulling a length of rope from his pocket.
"Oh you came prepared I see." She laughed sarcastically picking her self up out of the dirt. He placed a boot between her shoulder blades and wrenched her hands behind her back beginning to bind them.
"I know better than to give you an inch." He growled into her ear.
"Well I was taught by one of the best." She mumbled in defiance
He lifted her roughly and grabbed a handful of her hair. "As was I."
"I guess he just liked me more."
Lee dragged her across the cobble path to the horse trough plunging her face first into the icy water. She spluttered unable to fight back. Breath bubbling from her lungs to the surface, unable to gasp again, her lungs began to catch fire, her mind fill with terror. she was pulled up. She sucked in the sweet air like she had never taken a breath in her life.
"Is that why you shacked up with the boy? Just enough like master Haytham to satisfy you."
She smiled "Is that jealousy I hear Charles. After all a kiss from me cost you an earlobe once." She blew the dripping water out of her mouth. Baiting him with every word. Again she plunged into the watery depths of the trough.

She spluttered out in the air and coughed chest heaving trying to regain some composure.
"Must have devastated you, losing masters favour, to a girl and a savage." This time she managed a breath before he shoved her back in the water. She was ready when she surfaced. She whipped her head forward catching the bridge of his noes with her forehead, then spat at him. The game of sharp words was over. He hauled her to her feet by her hair pulled back and hit her. Pain exploded through her jaw his Templar ring catching her lip. She fell heavily with no hands to catch herself back onto the dirt. A boot collided with her back.
"I'm going to enjoy your death most of all." She hissed through the pain. "Be guaranteed I will smile when I watch the life flicker out of your eyes."
He kicked her a second time, so hard she felt a stabbing pain splinter up her side.
"Charles." Haytham's commanding voice carried through the night. Lee froze like the obedient animal he was and she heard the Grand Master approach.
The foot steps stopped at her head and she saw him crouch down to her. A large strong hand helped to her knees. Like when she was a child he took her chin in his hand taking a pocket handkerchief he dabbed at the blood pooling at her lips. Relief flooded her face as she looked at him, trusting his touch.
"An excellent tactic." He said "railing your torturer up so he neglected to ask the appropriate questions." His eyebrows knotted together genuine Concern filled his eyes. "Would have worked right up until the point where he either drowned you or beat you to death."
"The risks we take." She managed to say her voice husky from coughing.
"This is foolish." He scolded her "turning against me? I took you in treated you like one of my own."
She laughed showing off her bloody teeth "I have seen how you treat your own. This is fairly accurate."
His grip tightened on jaw squeezing so tight it hurt, she winced.
"I have had about enough of your insolence." His rage was more than visible tearing across his face.
"There is nothing I can tell you, even if i would."
His wrist flexed and the hidden blade snaked out from his sleeve he held it to her cheek.
"And if I threaten to kill you unless you tell me what I want to know?"
"Then there is one more body to bury in the morning."
Haytham flinched, there was no defiance, the rage and spite that she had egged Charles on with had been washed away as soon as he had touched her. The audacity and childish insubordination that she had shown him, melted with her words into fear, and betrayal as she realised she could be one more body on the road. It was the same look he had received from Connor last time they spoke.
He let her go, she slumped back to her knees hanging her head. Sheathing his blade he stood up. "Lock her up." He said finally to Charles who preceded to roughly haul her to her feet.
"I asked him why." She called out to Haytham as she was being marched away. She spat the words out like a threat that only he understood.
"Sir?" Lee asked as Haytham's face darkened ominously
"I asked Connor why he had to kill you." She reiterated The conversation they had years ago at the dinner table surfacing she could see it on his face too. Her omission slowly coming to pass before them.
"Take her away." Was all he could say.
***
She paced back and forwards in the cell. She could hear the other in mates below her, hooting, talking fighting. She wasn't allowed out of her tiny stone and metal cell. Her only companions were the rats and drips. As the only woman in the institution they thought it best to keep her safely locked away she was not allowed out while the other inmates were out. She had been stripped of her own clothes on entry, the prison rags the same as every one else's, the rough spun shirt hanging past her knees pants tied with a rope.
She had her own private Guard, but he never came close and almost never spoke to her. So she marched back and forwards until her feet were raw, then she lay on the questionable mat they called a bed. Listing to the shouting and the swearing and trying to avoid the smell. Avoiding thinking about the knot of worry that grew in her gut every day.

"You hear?"
"Hear what?" One guard rasped to the other late one afternoon.
"That Assassin got him, at Fort George. They say the beast took a hit from a cannon ball but still managed to put a blade through his throat."
Lizbeth leaped to her feet. Pressing her face as close to the bars as she could trying to hear more but the guards separated her personal watcher pacing back along to her cell.
"Hey." She called out "what were you just saying about the Assassin."
"What's it to you?" He grumped coming over to her
"Absolutely everything. Who'd he get?" It was plain to hear the urgency in her. Her mouth had gone dry, Fort George it could be either Haytham or Lee. Though she wished to be there to witness Lee's passing she prayed it was him that had met Connor's blade. Maybe Connor was right perhaps she did still somewhere in the back of her mind owe Haytham some loyalty, cared for him even. He had taken her in, taught her to survive. He had shown her mercy when every one overlooked her. At least she had cared for the man that he was.
"That man," the guard snapped his figures conjuring up the name. "Kenway, ah. Haytham that's it."
Her hands went to her mouth. "And Connor?" She asked her voice a horse whisper "The Assassin?"
"Took off, I presume to do in the next one."
A bizarre numbness flooded her senses as the two polarising emotions fought a battle in her skull for a moment. On the one hand Haytham was dead, it saddened her, it pinched at a corner of her heart brining tears to the surface.
On the other hand Connor lived, survived relatively unscathed, and that had been what she was more worried about. She laughed as she let the relief beat the grief.
"What?" The guard demanded
She swallowed "Charles Lee where was he posted."
"It don't matter where he was posted, he's dropped everything for this Haytham's Funeral. They are all heading back to Boston for the event, taking all sorts of men with him."
She leaned causally against the bars "feeling a little short staffed?"
He sighed heavily and stepped closer to the bars, "more than a little. We're all working double shifts, if these reprobates figure out that there's three of them to one of us. Well!"
"Three to One." She muttered "those odds aren't in your favour." A sly grin spread across her lips as her brain started to formulate a plan. Looking as far as she could left and right, she realised he was alone on this level.
She reached out through the bars, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him with all her might face first into the un wavering metal. He uttered a short groan before slumping into unconsciousness. With one had holding him up she riffled around his waist for his keyring. She was quickly rewarded. Allowing him to slump into painful slumber she unlocked the door and slid him inside locking him up.
Surrounded by cells on the top most floor she knew the entrance and exit was below her and below that the convicts out for their free time.
She stuck her head over the railing "gentlemen." She cried as loud as she was able. Swinging over the bars and hanging over for all to see as the noise ebbed to nothing and all eyes turned to her. "Gentlemen. Your freedom is at hand." Rattling the keys next to her head she smiled "first in first served."
An unnatural wave of stillness engulfed the prison, all parties involved thought about her offer. Then an explosion of movement, bodies forced together racing up the stairs towards her climbing over one another fighting each other.
The guards equally terrified struggled with their locks attempting to run in to aid their comrades caught in the midst of the riot.
Pandaemonium ensued, noise roared through the building. She mounted the railing throwing her self into the throngs of body's. the doors were already open with the guards trying to subdue the crowd, their muskets useless in close quarters the convicts numbers simply over whelming them.
Pushing through the unmanned gates, bare feet slapping against cold stone, she ran for the door to the outside world, one final lock and she spilled out onto the street. Leaving the door open for those luckily enough to follow.
Daylight burned her eyes, and she could feel the heat of the sun for the first time in days. Common folk past about the streets paying her no mind as she tried to find a way to get to Boston.
A familiar dark head of hair bounded up the cobbles leading a horse.
"Kara!" She shouted running up to her old friend and kissing her on the cheek. "You utterly fantastic girl."
Kara laughed "we've had some on on the prison since you went in, figured you'd want a
Quick escape."
She ran her hands over the horses muzzle. The cream and white mare was bright eyed and eager to run. "You took such good care of her too."
"You seem attached."
Lizbeth mounted "thank you. I'll find away to repay you." Turning the horse and spurring it off towards the out skirts of town.
Kara smiled watching her friend race off. "You don't need to." She whispered to herself.

Hooves rattled across cobbles until there were no more streets. Thumped across farmland jumping fences dodging people until there were no signs of civilisation left. Trees whipped passed and still she pushed on. Light dropped with it the temperature she stopped only to rest her poor weary animal, and to not risk injuring her. In the thick of the frontier moon light barely broke through the tree line. The Forrest floor was pitch, noises of animals rabbits and raccoons foraging for food, there was signs of larger animals too, but for now they left her alone. Worry kept her awake, absentminded patting of the horse the only function she was capable of in the darkness. She nudged her sensing something was wrong with her master, Lizbeth's mind was in Boston, walking the streets analysing what might be happening. Where the funeral was taking place. Surly that's where Connor would strike. Far to obvious for her liking but Connor was a direct man, he would take Lee head on and give him a fighting chance, even though all he deserved was a knife in the back.

With first light she was off again, passing frontiersmen and travellers her and her steed panting hard.
Pouring put of the trees and down the hill into Brooklyn she slowed to a canter to peruse the districts for any sign. Men filed out onto the streets, she saw two or three break off into another direction struggling with something in between them. She reared the horse for a tight turn people flooding the streets, she was penned in, she could feel the mare begin to get agitated huffing and thumping the ground with her foot. A fight ensued, white coat battling against blue. One man went down then the next.
"Connor!" She screamed but her voice was lost with in the rabble of people. Putting down the last man he ran taking off along the street after a foe she couldn't see, a foe she could only imagine was Lee.
She growled to herself, her mare reacting to annoyance jumped forward causing people to spill out of the way. Taking the long way on horse back she found his trail. As she started to make headway on him he turned down an alley.
Again she groaned spinning around looking for a way to follow. She could follow on foot maybe make up some ground in the short cuts but there was no way she could catch him in a straight sprint across open ground. She went wide back on the open street following the paved roads in the general direction he had been going. Slowing she was looking for signs anything to alert her to where they had gone. She had come to the docks. Wood groaned while the water slapped the hulls of the ships. She could hear a bang and crash in amongst the peace. Sounds of planks falling, becoming loader than the sound of hammering a building. Suddenly there was a crescendo of destruction, splintering wood hitting the ground and splashing to the water below. Then silence, she swallowed a dryness in her throat edging towards the sound.
A crack of gunfire ripped through the quiet, her mare reared, she heard a yell and as she was calming her stead a familiar form limped out of the dust.
Lee clutched his bloody side, stumbling from the wreckage, no Connor behind him.
She felt the blood drain from her face. Dropping the reigns she ran in the way Lee had come out. Fighting the dust she saw a crumpled figure lying on the ground.
Thoughts didn't process as she ran to him dropping to her knees, her mouth opened but she couldn't think of words nor force her throat to make a sound. He moved, pulling him self up and forward. He paused to look up at her, face spattered with dust dirt blood and war paint, Dark hair cut into a Mohawk. "We have to stop meeting like this." He panted trying to get his footing.
"If we didn't, one of us would surely die." She whispered laying a hand on his shoulder. He stumbled forward catching himself on her.
"Connor stop." She held his shoulders. "You have to stop now."
She could see the hunk of wood jutting from his abdomen.
"I must find Lee." He attempted to push against her, but she could feel his strength leaving him. He wrapped his hands around the wood and wrenched it free, groaning through gritted teeth as he did and then attempting to stand.
His legs folded, Lizbeth caught him and helped lower him to the ground.
"You will find Lee." She told him he could see the pain in her face seeing him like this "but I'm not letting you die on me. Not now. So sit still and give me a minute." She took off out side.

Connor lay in the dirt in the collapsed half built ship. He did as Lizbeth bade, not having the energy to do anything else, his mind began to wander, thinking of happier times, thinking to the homestead and his friends. A conversation at Maurice's wedding came to mind, as the men talked about the lonely bachelors life. He had never paid it mind, far to focused on tasks at hand for years to think of love.
"So why didn't you manage to snaffle that lovely red head that arrived a disappeared all in a day?" His friend joked "her fault or yours?"
He chuckled "I would make a terrible husband, I have no time to give."
"So your fault." They laughed
"It's not so much time and love." Godfrey interrupted his thick Scottish brogue making his pearl of wisdom sound cryptic. "as finding a woman as mad as you, some one who will stand by you even if she thinks your an idiot." He looked kindly over to his own wife Catherine "see the thing with women is you think they are all soft, nothing but feelings, but they are like fire. They are beautiful and warm and when you piss 'em off they burn your house down."
He had laughed, but he should have listened more closely.

Lizbeth returned to her position, by his side she placed a old beaten cup, threw a large needle in it and pulling the cork out of a bottle she had procured, drowned it in something that smelled flammable. She took a swig her self. Pulling a face at the strong tart flavour that slipped over her tongue down into her stomach, settling nerves.
She passed him the drink. "This is going to hurt. A lot." She emphasised the last two words. He nodded.
Taking the short sword off his belt she began to cut the base of her shirt into strips she had more than enough spare fabric.
"Where have you been?" He asked finally seeing the rough tunic and dark pants that were clearly not her own.
"Prison." She informed him simply pulling some of the fibres from edges of her newly cut bandages she sterilised them with the alcohol and threaded the needle.
Peeling away his bloodied clothes from the wound she took a final deep breath. And set to work.

Back alley field medicine and a few more swigs of powerful homebrew, and Lizbeth was true to her word. Getting him back on his feet and moving towards his final goal of Killing Charles Lee.
"You came early" Connor spoke softly, she had an arm around his waist and was helping him walk towards the ferry in the direction she had seen Lee take. Gathering her horse as they went.
"I'm glad I did." She smiled sadly, the corners of her eyes still shrouded with concern "and people say I'm trouble."

Together they hunted Lee through the frontier, weeks they followed his trail. Self proclaimed city girl Lizbeth adapted to life on the move in the wilderness. Though she still wasn't use to the strange noises and animal cries that filled the night. It made her the best option for the nights watch, while she kept an eye on Connor. His wound had been deep and frightening, he had only allowed enough time to get more bandages but no time to rest and see a doctor. Thought there was no sign of fever but it only took a small infection and the tides would change. He was thankful for his vigilant nurse, her unwavering support keeping him moving through the frontier when his own stubbornness wavered.
A tavern glowed from the centre of a small community. Their trail ended in it. Lizbeth tethered the ever patient mare out side, and held the door open for Conner. He entered under his own power, un sheathing his dagger. They approached a table one loan man sat drinking. Slouched as if he were in pain. The back of his dark hair un mistakenly Lee.
Connor took the free seat and sat down across from him. Lizbeth almost didn't want to watch. Charles Lee whom she had always referred to as Haytham's mad dog, who had terrified her when she was young, barely moved when his adversary sat before him. Like a tired wounded animal staring at his own unavoidable end.
Taking her stance behind Connor she looked on Lee with unforgiving eyes. He sat up in her presence his eyes flicking between each of them. She could smell the odour of a wound gone to rot. Is that why after weeks of running had he finally stopped. He Took a swig out of the bottle before sliding it across to Connor. The same stubborn resolve resided in him despite the gauntness of his features. He watched Connor drink the two men silently loathing each other. Connor reached forward taking Charles by the shoulder and pulling him towards his blade. There was no words no last stutter of hatred, or confessions a gurgled began low in his throat then stopped as he exhaled falling forward. Connor reached for the medallion Lee wore and ripped it from his neck. Lizbeth didn't move she waited for that last long breath to sputter out of him, she waited a little longer to make sure he wouldn't breath again, but she didn't smile.

1781 December
Homestead buzzed as it did every morning. Beaming over the community the sun gave the day extra warmth, reflecting off the thick layer of snow from the night before.
Lizbeth had the children on the porch taking advantage of the glorious morning. She was drawing letters and words in the ice that crusted the wood with her finger, encouraging the children to do the same.
She paused in her lessons for a moment hearing a long confidant stride crunch towards the house. Her smile was unmistakeable as she saw the familiar dark hair, white coat and cream and white mare. He walked slowly with heavy steps, something weighed heavily on his shoulders. She was just glad to see him.
Whipping her hands off on her skirts she turned to the children.
"Off you go, have a wee play."
They looked at each other before taking off as fast as they were able "Where I can see you." She finished sternly. Descending to the front step.

Connor approached the porch, as Lizbeth threw open her arms to welcome him. He caught her in a hug burying his head into her curls, the step gave her enough extra height to be almost the same size. He drank her in, every part. Wearing the pale blue dress she was given when she first arrived. Half of his worries had melted away as he saw her on the step, still in his life, waiting for him. A strangely happy look in her eye.There had been a risk in his leaving alone that she would have drifted away, disappearing like she was good at.
"What happened?" She asked knowing him well enough to read the signs.
"You were right in the end." He didn't raise his head "they were chased out. The whole village is gone."
"I never wanted to be." She spoke softly running her hands through his hair.
"What do we do now?"
She smiled, reassuring him taking a hand and placing it on her belly.
"We start again." She told him a strange knowing sound to her voice "a new brotherhood and a new family."