The Right Side

Returning to the Gallows

"Are you sure you're alright to go?" Haytham asks, standing with Charles and in front of Clarke. He knows how the Gallows went the last time she was there, and didn't want to remind her of it.

"I'm fine," she insists. "I can handle myself, I'm a grown woman."

"Trust me dear, I know. I just didn't know if you were comfortable returning. Especially since it's the Assassin who will be on the stage this time."

"What happened to his trial?"

"No trials for traitors, sadly," Charles steps forward. "He's going straight to the Gallows. You can return home, we're not far. There's no pressure for you to prove you're grown."

"We're not far from the Gallows either, are we? We're already in Boston, I might as well go."

The two Templars look at each other, both sighing internally.

"Thomas is already there," Haytham informs. "We'll go and meet up with him. Follow me."

With a smile, Clarke turns to follow them out of the alleyway they spoke in. They could hear the crowd yelling from where the were, most likely angry at Connor. They framed him for plotting to kill Washington, after all.

"You know it wasn't him, right?" The blonde whispers to Haytham as they near the crowd. "It was-"

"I know," he nods. "But if we go down any more men, we will soon be outnumbered. Achilles has a following."

"Speaking of the old man," Charles motions forwards, the girl standing on her hippie toes to see Achilles kneeling next to Connor. He looked injured and tired, Thomas at his side as he pushed him towards the stage. They seemed to be talking, only god knows what about.

When Clarke sees Charles head for the stage, she turns to follow. "Where are you going?"

"To speak of his crimes, I'm the one who turned him in so it is my duty to inform the people."

"Let me come."

"Pardon?"

"Let me come with you. Haytham can keep a look out, but I should be up there with you and Thomas."

Watching Haytham nod, the man extends his arm to the girl. "Right this way then."

To say Charles was an odd man was an understatement. As Clarke walks with him up to the stage, she can see a cruel smirk on his face. He's very gentlemanly, when he wants to be. And he's apologized more that the girl can count for hurting her. But there's another side to him, one that almost scares her to see. He was blood thirsty and itching for a fight.

Stepping onto the stage, Clarke holds her breath as she is stood to the left of the noose. Connor watches her intently, him right behind the rope.

"Brothers!" Charles calls. His public speaking is much more mature than that of Washington's, "Sisters! Fellow Patriots. Several days ago we learned of a scheme so vile, so dastardly - that even repeating it now, disturbs my being." Not to mention, he's a great liar. "The man before you plotted to murder our much beloved General." The crowd yells, screams, and even throws things. Clarke is sure to stay on her guard, dodging a rock thrown her way. "Indeed. What darkness or madness has moved him, none can say. And he himself offers no defense. Shows no remorse. And though we have begged and pleaded with him to share what he knows, he maintains a deadly silence." A bag is placed over Connors head, something they hadn't done for Clarke. Though Thomas then puts the noose around his neck. That, they made sure to do for her. "If the man will not explain himself - if he will not confess and atone - what other option do we have, but this? He sought to send us into the arms of the enemy. And thus, we are compelled by justice to send him from this world. May God have mercy on your soul."

Just as an eagle cries, a hatch is opened up and the native's body jerks as he falls towards the ground. Clarke visibly flinches, turning away from the sight. She can see Thomas, gun in hand. The two nod at each other, knowing he was planning to take down Washington while everyone is distracted. Thought when he turns to run Clarke sees Connor right behind him.

Looking down into the hatch, Achilles stands against his cane, looking up at her. Frowning, she then turns to Charles.

"He got away!" She yelled. "You get Haytham, I'm going after him!" Turning, the blonde then leaps from the stage and sprints after Connor. Everything seemed to slow down as she follows him, noticing Thomas had stopped running. Before she could yell for him to move, Connor has his Tomahawk in the air and pushes it down into Thomas's neck.

Within seconds, he's surrounded by guards with guns pointed at him. She manages to reach them, making sure to stay back unless something were to happen and she needed an escape.

"At ease!" A man in uniform yells, making his way over. "I said at ease! Put down the goddamn guns! This man's a hero!" And at his order, the men automatically backed down. "You know, the Commander can be quite stubborn. I told him this would happen, but he didn't believe me."

"Where is George Washington now?"

"He left when your execution turned sideways. Most likely on his way to Philadelphia by now."

"Then so be it," he turned to leave, but the conversation only continued.

"Why chase him?"

"He is still in danger! Hickey did not work alone." When he attempts to leave this time, he is met with a fist hitting his jaw.

"You asshole!" Clarke yelled, hands balled into fists. "I trusted you! Now you go and murder another of my friends? What the hell?"

"Clarke I-"

"Don't 'Clarke' me! You're a murderer!"

"You know this woman?" The man asks, grabbing her attention.

"He does. He killed Pitcairn, Johnson and now Hickey. They were all with me and I can assure you - Thomas was no threat!" Luckily, she had picked up on acting from Charles.

"Clarke," a hand is placed on her shoulder, turning to see Charles with Haytham behind him. "It is time for us to go."

"I've waited long enough to have a decent talk with him! Why won't you just let me be?"

"Because you'll kill him if left alone."

"He deserves it! I should kill him!" At that, the guards aimed their guns at her.

"Do not shoot!" Connor said, stepping forward to shield her. She pushed him back, scowling. "If you'll let me explain-"

"No. Talk to Achilles. Charles is right, I'd kill you if given the chance."

"And you're not a murderer," Haytham adds, moving forward to his lover. Putting an arm around her, she turns and practically buries herself in his cloak. His eyes move to meet Connor's, seeing anger in them. The native is angry, jealous even, because she needs his fathers love more than she needs his friendship.

Why was this so hard?

He had to do his job. But he made her so angry. Perhaps he should take her advice and speak with his mentor.