Adam discreetly wiped his sweaty hands on his white-grey coat and swallowed nervously, still searching for the right words to explain their situation to the Iroquois.
Cautiously, he glanced at Chief Akwiratheka and his two sons, sitting with their arms crossed like their father.
A faint golden light filtered down from the ceiling, casting a warm glow on the small group gathered near the modest fire that seemed on the verge of dying out. A few glowing embers were still visible, a sign that the fire could reignite at any moment.
“For some time now,” Adam began in a deep, measured voice, “our fort has been harassed by a small group of soldiers using the same tactics as the Iroquois… Um, I mean the Haudenosaunee. They’re resourceful, agile, mobile, but also very cruel.”
“Wait a second, my boy,” interrupted the matriarch, raising a long, slender hand. “Let’s make sure we’re clear. Are these soldiers French or English?”
Adam’s expression changed, showing just how uncomfortable he was. He knew this was the most crucial point.
“They’re British, matriarch,” Adam whispered, as if confessing a wrong. “They’re militia attached to the regular army. They’re like their hunting dogs. They act as scouts and carry out deep raids on our lands.”
“The rangers of Robert Rogers, right?”
“You… you know them?” Adam asked nervously, staring at the matriarch.
“Hmmm. We sometimes sell them food and other supplies. We’ve also accompanied them on operations.”
Adam swallowed hard, feeling his chances slipping away like fine sand through his fingers.
“A-are they your friends, matriarch?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. Keep going with your story, boy. My brother isn’t very patient and will get angry if we keep speaking French.”
“Y-yes. Um, we dealt them a heavy blow during an ambush south of Fort Bourbon, but they’re not defeated yet. Many rangers managed to escape, including their leader. You know these forests better than anyone, so I’ve come to ask if it’s possible to get your help in finding and eliminating them.”
The old matriarch stared at the young man in silence, hesitant to translate his dangerous words.
“My boy, what you’re asking… is more than a favor. You’re asking us to turn our backs on our British friends and join your side.”
“I-I understand,” Adam said, clenching his fists on his knees, “but… but they’re not really soldiers. They’re more like bandits.”
The matriarch smiled faintly but showed no emotion.
“Do you think that will matter when it gets to one of their officers’ desks?” she asked before pausing briefly to think. “I’ll translate your request, but know that it won’t be well received, especially after our English friend’s visit.”
Adam grimaced but nodded. He didn’t know what they had discussed, but it couldn’t have been good for them.
The hatred between the French and the British seemed even stronger on this continent than it was in Europe, perhaps because over there, they were separated by a sea. Here, they were in constant contact.
The Indian territories were merely a thin line of demarcation, a buffer zone between these two giants, and it wasn’t impassable.
If they truly wanted to, their armies could cross these territories to strike at their neighbor. More than a border, the long strip of land separating the thirteen colonies from New France was considered contested territory.
The matriarch translated Adam’s words faithfully, and immediately the faces of the chief and his sons grew dark. What this Frenchman was asking them to do was exactly what their friend had advised against for their own survival.
Akwiratheka furrowed his brow angrily and began speaking in his language in a tone that seemed very unencouraging to Adam. The matriarch turned to Adam once he had finished.
“As I told you, our chief has no reason to help you. He would have nothing to gain and everything to lose. Robert Rogers’ rangers aren’t our friends—they’re rude and dirty, but they’re not our enemies either. They’ve never attacked us because we’re allied with the British. They only attack clans allied with the French.”
Adam stayed silent for a long time, his face dark.
“Is there really nothing we can do to convince you?” he asked the matriarch, desperate.
“I’ll ask, but don’t hold out hope. You’re asking too much,” the old woman said, shaking her head, the soft jingle of her many pearl necklaces tinkling.
Once again, she turned to the chief, who seemed closed off to any further discussion. His strong arms crossed over his chest like an impenetrable wall between Adam and him. His unfriendly face was firmer than ever.
“No,” Akwiratheka replied bluntly to the matriarch. “There’s nothing to discuss. I won’t support these damn French. If they have problems, let them deal with them. I refuse to endanger my people, no matter the cost. I’ve lost enough warriors this way. Let them figure it out themselves! The same goes for the English! If Brother Warraghiyagey spoke the truth, then we will suffer alongside them if we side with them.”
The matriarch, though showing no emotion, agreed with her brother. Getting involved with the French could only lead to heavy consequences.
Even though the British had suffered heavy defeats lately—since the start of this war, that is—they remained powerful and dangerous. The best thing to do was to stop taking sides and rebuild their strength.
The English wouldn’t be pleased, but it would still be better than joining their eternal enemy. By staying neutral, their relationship with the French would even improve naturally, because at least they would no longer risk meeting face to face on a battlefield.
She translated the chief’s wise words, but took the liberty of revealing to the young Frenchman what William Johnson had told them before leaving.
" W-wait, what?! The British will have reinforcements in the coming weeks?! Where and how many men?!"
Adam suddenly asked, surprising the chief and his sons who hadn’t understood the situation.
"I don’t know. Our English friend didn’t give us any more specific details about that. He seemed very confident, and I don’t think he lied."
"Shit," Adam murmured to himself. "I’ll have to warn my superiors. Ah, this won’t cause you any problems, will it?" he realized. "I mean, it’s important information. Revealing this to me... won’t it cause you too much trouble?"
The matriarch smiled gently, subtly tilting her head at the young man’s concern, still just a child in her eyes.
"I don’t think so. You gave us even more important information the last time."
"R-really?" Adam said, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "What did I say?"
"That the English would be driven off this continent. That’s going to change a lot of things. Until that day comes, we must be cautious."
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Adam then thought about his limited knowledge of the continent’s history. He had indeed revealed a few small things about the subject, which he barely understood.
In truth, even after all he had seen and done, he wasn’t sure if the history as he knew it had changed. He found himself asking more and more questions about it, and the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he would return to his previous life once he had recovered that damn watch.
The destruction of Boston, in his eyes, wasn’t enough of a clue, because a city could be rebuilt. So, he assumed that what happened to that great city had also happened in the past he knew.
He had started asking himself these kinds of questions the very evening they had set that city on fire. Upon further reflection, he remembered that in Assassin's Creed III, which he had played at least five times during his childhood, Boston was one of the maps that could be explored.
Adam was then convinced that it was neither in ruins nor under French control. This could only mean, from his point of view, that it would soon be rebuilt and that the nearby lands would be reclaimed by the English.
Fuck, I should have paid more attention to history! Damn it! In the end, did we win or lose this damn war?!
Then he thought about a bargaining chip. A currency that only he could use.
"And… what if I offered you all the knowledge I have about the future?" Adam suddenly asked in a low tone. "Could you consider helping us?"
The matriarch raised an eyebrow in surprise, deepening the wide lines on her broad, flat forehead. She turned to the chief and relayed Adam’s offer.
He was surprised, but less so than his sons, who hadn’t been told who Adam was. Only the chief knew that Adam was a time traveler. That was what had ultimately convinced him to negotiate with the French alongside the other great Haudenosaunee chiefs to end their exhausting war.
Tayohseron and Kahionhes stared at Adam as if he were an alien. They thought it was a bad joke, but their father’s reaction suggested that this young man truly had an extraordinary identity.
"He… He would trade all his knowledge for our help?"
It was an enticing offer, something that nothing could match, and certainly not a service like the one he was asking for. He could gain many things from the British, but not information about the future.
Adam knew that, had he been in their place and offered with a small favor, even minuscule information about the future, he would have seized the opportunity, even if it brought him trouble.
When his sister, Hendrick Theyanoguin’s biological daughter, had told him about this visitor and his revelations, he hadn’t believed it at first, but like her, he was able to tell at a glance if someone was lying. So, he believed that this boy really came from the future.
He turned to Adam and looked at him coldly, but with a strange gleam in his eyes.
"You… You would be willing to sell your knowledge for my help? All your knowledge, and not hide anything about our future?"
"Yes," Adam replied after the matriarch translated.
Akwiratheka, silent and still with his arms crossed, nervously tapped his right arm with the tip of his index finger. Then, once he had made his decision, he stopped and leaned slightly forward.
"In that case, if you keep your word, I’ll reveal to the French the place where the green men are hiding. But don’t count on my warriors to bleed in your place. Do we have a deal?"
"It’s a deal," Adam said firmly, aware that he couldn’t expect a better offer than this.
"Good. Then I’m listening. What does the future hold for us? What does the future look like?"
The matriarch also listened carefully, because although she had talked at length with Adam last time, she had hardly asked any questions about the time period Adam came from.
Adam then began to recount everything he had retained about the world’s history from his lessons since primary school. He could only recall a handful of dates, most of which had been forgotten.
When he was just a student like any other, and this was something all students did, when they had to review a lesson for an evaluation, he only retained a few names and dates, hoping to be questioned on them. Then, once the evaluation was over, he would forget everything and move on to the next chapter.
He had no knowledge of the 18th century before the Revolutionary period. He had retained one or two bits of information about Louis XIV simply because he had greatly improved the Palace of Versailles, transforming a mere hunting lodge into one of the most beautiful palaces in the world, but that was all.
As for the future, assuming nothing had changed, he knew that the end of this century would be marked by the consequences of the French Revolution following, on this continent, the American Independence.
There would be chaos, many deaths in bloody purges, and Napoleon Bonaparte, a mere general, would take advantage of this to rise to power. He would then shake all of Europe, forcing the greatest powers of the continent to unite their forces to face him.
For the Mohawks, however, this meant little. They were, however, more interested in what would come next, what Adam called "the industrial revolution."
He roughly spoke of gigantic, countless factories, producing all sorts of items every day, and heavily polluted cities. He made sure not to explain that to describe these scenes, he had to rely on another video game set in Victorian-era London.
The factories, as described by Adam, had a great effect on these Indians, but what interested them most was the train. He described it as a series of long wagons moving faster than a galloping horse, rolling on metal rails capable of crossing difficult terrains without stopping or slowing down, even at night.
Then, he spoke of World War I. Millions of deaths in abominable conditions, gas, futile charges against weapons that could fire hundreds of times without stopping, and flying machines fighting in the air.
He also mentioned enormous cannons capable of destroying neighborhoods miles away.
It was a shock for the chief, his children, and the matriarch. Unfortunately, he didn’t stop at 1918.
He told how, after just a few years of peace, several countries fell into the hands of bloodthirsty tyrants. He spoke of unknown names and countries that the Mohawks couldn’t even locate on a map.
He had more knowledge, though still fragile, of this period. Therefore, he was able to be more precise.
Adam concluded this terrible period with a weapon so powerful it could create a sun for a brief moment, capable of completely razing a city. He explained it had been used twice.
Such a concept was even unimaginable for the chief. No weapon should ever be able to do such a thing.
When he spoke of the Cold War, the chief started trembling violently.
A weapons race? Hundreds of city-destroying weapons? Could such abominations still be called a war?
Adam finished his account in 2024, as it was the year he had found the watch that had caused him to transmigrate.
The chief, now pale, had not stopped watching the Frenchman and had read no malice in his eyes. He had not lied once. He had only told of a terrible future, full of wars and suffering.
To improve the mood a bit, Adam focused on the rapid technological advancements of his time: the telephone, the car, electricity, the internet, airplanes as means of transport, etc.
Almost everything he mentioned in the end seemed meaningless to the Mohawks. These technologies were too astonishing, too advanced, to be understood. Adam himself had no idea how they worked.
He would simply buy these items when he still lived surrounded by all these things and follow the instructions.
"And... and the Haudenosaunee?" said Kahiones in a weak voice. "What is our place in this future?"
Adam had told the matriarch what he knew, but for the chief’s eldest son, all these revelations were new. He once again explained the sad fate awaiting the Iroquois.
"None," said Adam with a gleam of sadness in his eyes. "As I explained to the matriarch last time, your people will practically disappear along with your language and culture. You will be placed in reserves for protection, but it will be like prisons. Your lands will be taken by force to build cities, fields, and roads."
The discussion went on for a while, and Adam had to endure a tsunami of questions to which he often had no answers. Finally, it was time for Adam to leave.
Chief Akwiratheka, still in shock, confirmed his promise, although he now regretted having all this knowledge about the future of this world. He had to think about what to do to give his people a better future than the one Adam had described.
They both left the longhouse, much to the relief of the French soldiers who remained still. At least two soldiers stood guard by each man.
It was then that Akwiratheka saw his daughter approach. He immediately raised an eyebrow in surprise when he saw her stunning appearance.
Onatah had changed her outfit and hairstyle, now looking like a goddess. He could have believed she was about to get married, so radiant she looked.
She was now wearing a long blue dress, cinched at the waist with a beautiful thick belt and her finest necklaces. Onatah also wore a lovely headband with colorful patterns and some bracelets that highlighted her coppery skin.
Akwiratheka, who had always been very protective of his daughter, treating her like his greatest treasure, felt a powerful ray of light hit and pass through him.
His dear daughter was so beautiful that he struggled to look at her without falling to his knees like a priest facing a divine apparition.
"Onatah? You... you are magnificent! But for what occasion? Did I miss something? Or is this to please me?"
The young girl with long black hair, neatly arranged, ignored her father, a titan next to her, and looked around.
"F-Father... W-where are the French?"
"Huh?"
Akwiratheka opened his eyes wide in surprise. He saw his daughter nervously glancing in all directions and noted her agitation.
Immediately, he imagined the worst—that one of those despicable Frenchmen had harmed her. If that were the case, he would personally burn all of New France to the ground.
Onatah then spotted the group of soldiers preparing to leave. Quick as a wild cat, she darted forward and got closer to the strangers, specifically to Adam, who was awkwardly getting back on his horse.
Immediately, Akwiratheka felt something snap inside him. His eagle-like eyes landed on the officer with the large scar above his eye, smiling broadly. To his horror, he saw his precious daughter return his smile, her cheeks as pink as a flower just blooming.
"What?!"
You son of a... How dare you?! My daughter! YOU HAVE DARED TO SEDUCE MY DAUGHTER! WRETCHED! DOG! SERPENT!"
He remembered William Johnson’s warnings and distorted them.
Rhaaaa! I knew I should’ve scalped him! Trusting the French was a mistake!