New York

August 1780

Abagail Kenway watched from her window as a group of Regulars made their way past, talking amongst themselves and laughing at a joke one of them had said. Her brunette hair was pulled into a loose bun on the nape of her neck, and her pale blue eyes shone with tears of fear. She didn't need to look to know that someone else was in her home-years of bitter experience had taught her to be alert to anything.

"You must be Connor," she said, loud enough for the other person to hear. "I knew you'd be coming."

She turned to face the assassin, a small smile on her face. "It takes skill to sneak past those Regulars that come by the house. You've trained well."

Connor seemed to flush, and nodded slightly, embarrassed. Abagail gestured to the fire, dimmed now since she'd last tended to it. "Before you kill me, I have a story to tell you."

Connor looked confused but moved to tend to the fire. Abagail had grabbed a kettle and some coffee and put it so it could brew near the fire.

"Please, sit. You'll find no trouble here, least of all from me. My children are with your father now. You look like him. Stubborn and strong-willed too from what I've heard." she smiled kindly at him as she took two mugs from her cupboard and joined Connor near the fire.

"Why are you being so kind?" Connor asked, and Abagail shrugged lightly.

"You're the son of a good friend of mine. My husband's first son," she said simply. "Angelica may be an Assassin like you now...How is she, by the way?"

"She's fine," Connor said. "She's with Commander Washington at the moment."

Abagail nodded and turned away, hiding a wince of pain. "Good. I didn't want her to be here when you came. When Achilles sent you after me."

"She knew you would have to die."

"But that doesn't mean she should have to be the one to do it." Abagail raised her hand to stop his flow of words. "But that is a story for another time. But for now, I mean to tell you all that I know. From the beginning. I only want you to listen. Please, that is my only request from you."

Connor nodded and sat back, ready to hear the woman's story.

Abagail paused for a second to gather her thoughts. "I must have been late Autumn of 1754 when I met Haytham. I had traveled to Boston with William Johnson, a close friend of mine after a letter with the Templar mark had arrived asking us to make the journey. It was there when I first met Charles Lee, and through him, the man I would later marry..."