Ten years ago, almost to the day.
It is that day what lead me to where I am now, riding my horse as hard as I could. Word had reached my ears late, but hopefully I would still get there in time.
I rode on the back of my father's cart happily, watching the world go by at a steady pace. Everything was bright, captivating and peaceful. That was until I heard the sound of horses being driven hard coming closer. "Papa look." I called, watching as five ebony horses came racing towards us.
I turned and saw my father's face pale and his eyes widen as he tried to make our old mare sprint.
It happened so fast. Suddenly the men surrounded us; I didn't understand what was happening, but I knew enough to be fearful.
They forced us to stop, and began to argue with my father; some of them decided to overturn the cart with me still sat on the back of it.
Hearing my father scream while he struggled in desperation to get me set off a eagerness to flee and take him along with me.
There was a strange sound and then a heavy thud of something hitting the floor. As the strange men pulled me roughly from underneath the cart I was already crying, my naivety had me hoping they hadn't hurt my father. I saw the blood first, sobs escaping me as I tried to pull from whosoever grip I was trapped in to get to him. "Papa! Papa!"
One man struck me hard, causing a wave of pain to rush through me, and pulled me roughly round to face him. "Papa is dead." The laughter in his voice, the amusement in his eyes would torment my dreams for years to come. "She'll do, Thieves Guild will pay a pretty penny for a little runt like this one."
And that is where they took me, but I never forgot the men that took my father and took me from my home.
The Guild trained me, but as I grew older, I became more interested in working intricately with a blade than picking pockets and petty thievery. A fact was that some took a keen interest in the darker world of things, an assassin after all was paid better.
But my interest in the blade went only as far as killing Miguel and his band of idiots.
They were already attacking the Duke of Savoy's convey, taking the weapons of his guard and attacking those that refused to give up. They were unorganised, they hadn't expected an attack and that gave Miguel the advantage. But not for long.
I must have looked like a black demon, as I charged towards them. Dressed up all in black, with my face covered and only my eyes showing.
Drawing my rapier, I cut down the first of Miguel's men as he turned to see who was coming towards them.
Jumping down from my horse, I engaged another, cutting him down almost just as quickly.
Soon I had fought through the last of Miguel's men and made my way to him. He reached for the Duke's carriage, intending to pull him throw the cart, perhaps he thought I was here to save him.
Kicking the door shut I shoved Miguel away, taking a stance I motioned for him to draw his sword. I wanted to enjoy this.
Our swords clashed as we danced around each other, executing one swift move after another.
I was acutely aware of figures approaching on horseback and knew I had to end this fast. I pulled a dagger that was tucked between the folds of my clothes and lashed out, catching him in the arm and thus knocking him to the floor.
I was soon towering over him with my rapier pressed against his neck. I moved the scarf from my face and looked down on him with a sadistic smile."Remember my face Miguel, it will haunt you to the very depths of hell."
The men, musketeers had arrived. "Stop!"
"This is for my father." I moved the blade down before driving it into his chest, hiding my identity as I did by pulling the scarf back into its original position. I took it upon myself to back away, intending to leave without a fuss.
"Stop where you are or we shoot!" The man who moved forward appeared to be the man in charge as the men beside him took aim, but regardless I kept moving until the carriage door opened and the Duke stepped out.
"Wait! Treville, this man saved my life. He cut down these rats and has asked for nothing in return. He is skilled, with a blade and loyal it seems to the crown." I frowned, turning back. This man knew nothing of me, and I could not have cared less if he had been killed or not.
This Treville moved towards me, sheathing his own blade as The Duke turned to the men still breathing, lecturing them.
"So the Duke says you are a capable fighter. Did you kill all of these men yourself?" I nodded, they seemed to believe I was a man and perhaps, it was for the best they continued to think as such. "He seems to think you're loyal. That's his way of suggesting you could be of use to me and the Musketeers."
Still I said nothing, I didn't understand what was happening and this was not a position I could take.
"Don't you speak boy?!" He lunged for the scarf around my face and before I could pull back he had revealed my identity anyway. "You're a woman?" His tone was surprised though his voice was barely above a whisper.
"Please good sir, I came only for justice and to avenge the death of my father, please allow me to leave and you shall hear no more from me." I replied in equally hushed tones, fearful of what could happen.
He stood there a moment, almost dumbstruck as I waited for him to make up his mind. "Cover your face, come see me in Paris, you'll find me at the Musketeers quarters." The Duke turned back to us then and threw Treville a small pouch.
"For your bravery and assistance." He bobbed his head and climbed back into his carriage. Treville immediately threw me the pouch. I waited only a few seconds before my curiosity got the better of me and found it contained enough money to feed me well and house me in a decent inn for at least a month.