Chapter 1
Kingston, Jamaica 1732
Her husband held out a dusty bottle of cheap ale. "Here love drink this, it will help ease the pain."
Sophia took it. The pale liquor was tasteless and bitter, and did nothing to warm her belly. Now it was all that remained in the once bountiful cupboards, save the dormice, until their ship returned from the western islands for them, and she hated that. She hated John more for locking them in the small cottage for three days long with not nearly enough food to last. Sophia sat at their over-sized table, brooding and hungry. She clutched her bottle tighter, savouring the pain that bit her bruised knuckles and looked to her husband. "How is she?"
"Asleep for now," John said as he knelt on the cold hearth. Flames danced to life, basking is haggard features in a soft orange glow. He was an old man now, nearly fifty years of age but with all the energy of a spritely Ocelot. His dark hair was streaked with grey and peppered in his short whiskers. He continued to poke the kindling until the room was warm as toast and free from the night's chill. "The Siren will make port at dawn tomorrow, that's when we-."
"We're not leaving." Her voice was like a whip, her glare pure ice. "Anna and I are staying here."
John stood and turned to her. She could see he was tired and in no mood to argue, but he wouldn't listen and she was sick of repeating it. "That's not your choice," he said sharply.
"I believe it is when my daughter is concerned," Sophia snapped. "Anna is too young and the sea is too dangerous, I won't risk it."
"Aye, seafaring is a dangerous buisness, but so is allowing our child to run rampent through the streets with that... breed," said John.
Sophia flared with anger. "Breed? The Maroons aren't a breed, they're people."
"They're savages," John spat.
You're the savage, Sophia dared to say but bit her tongue for their daughter's sake. Not that her husband deserved such kindness. Disappearing to African waters for six months with not a single pigeon sent of his whereabouts or apology on his return. In her mind it was more than he deserved. "The men and women who live in that bureae are family and they've done more for our needs than you have since we came here. Drinking and whoring away the few reales we have. Quite an example you sent for child, so I fail to see why you should have a say in where Anna lives."
"I am her father!" John yelled as he crossed the room to her.
"Are you John? Then best you start acting like one or you'll wake and she'll have left you a bitter old man if you keep this up," Sophia said coldly. "Now give me the key, I can't stand to be locked in here any longer."
John bent down and leered in her face. A strong mixture "of ale and tobacco was heavy on his breath. "I'll swallow that dam key before you touch it."
"Then prey your throat is slit in your sleep, save me the job when I grow tired of your shit."
He laughed. "Gods craven woman, you've gone mad."
"You make me mad, stamp my feet and pull my hair!" Sophia exclaimed. "I won't have my child living on a pirate ship . I won't. I am done with this John, you hear me."
"Why the devil has replaced my loving wife with this shrieking harpy I will never know," muttered John as he turned away from his balling wife.
Sophia drank deeply from her bottle. "What is it that bothers you John? Why the sudden need to leave in such haste?"
"I am anxious that is all," said John. "A year is too long to spend in one place, they will find us."
"Not likely. Our home is hidden on the jungle edges and there are others willing to help if you would just put aside your pride and let them," Sophia pleaded.
"My pride," John scoffed on the words. "They are your brethren not mine, I don't need their charity."
"Can you hear yourself?" said Sophia. She was shocked to see him speak so ill of the Assassins. In the old days he had fought beside them against the Templars, even calling a few of them brothers himself. Now he resented their very existence. "That is our way. You saw how many we lost on Tulum. There are so little of us left that caring for one another is the difference between life and death. Surely you can understand that?" she begged.
"It matters little to me what the Assassins do or care for now." John shrugged. "I have a family to care for, that's what matters to me."
"Your daughter cares," Sophia said defiantly.
John's eyes darkened. He grabbed her arm pulled her roughly to her feet; his face was inches from hers. She could see the darkening of a bruise on his jaw where she had hit him earlier. "What?"
Sophia held her head high. "Your daughter wants to be an Assassin, and I fully agree."
His fingers dug painfully into her arm. "The girl is seven; she has no idea what she wants."
"The best time to start, I was that young when I went to Anto. He has been teaching her skills with wooden swords, starting small of course. You should see her smile John, Anna's the happiest she's ever been." Sophia beamed with pride over her daughter's joy, but John didn't share her enthusiasm for the matter. He looked as if he had swallowed a large insect.
"No… No, I forbid it. Anna is to be a lady and marry a wealthy merchant, and have a big house with plenty of children." John let go of her arm. "What have you done woman?"
"I have made our daughter happy. Which is more than you've ever achieved," Sophia added with a cruel jest.
John's face twisted with anger and for the first time in her life Sophia truly feared him. He snatched her bottle from the table and flung it at the wall in a fit of rage and curses. It shattered, sending green glass around the room. Sophia shrieked and fell to the floor with her arms over her head.
"Mother, father, are you fighting again? Anna asked .
Sophia hadn't heard the child enter, but there she stood by the door, sleepily rubbing her eyes. Panicked, Sophia rushed over to her. "Your father and I were just having a talk," she smiled meekly as she checked the girl for glass. Sophia was ashamed; there was no point in lying to the girl. John and her had fought a lot recently and it was only a small cottage, no doubt Anna could hear them night and day.
"You woke me," Anna yawned.
Sophia kissed her forehead. "I know I'm sorry love, now let's get you back to bed."
"I don't want to leave," Anna whispered as her mother ushered her back to her bed. She looked down sadly. "But I love the ship very much too."
"Don't worry your little head till the morning," said Sophia and tucked the girl snugly in her covers and turned to leave.
"I can be brave." Anna puffed out her tiny chest. "See."
Sophia laughed heartily. "You already are. Goodnight love," she whispered and shut the door. When she turned back to the kitchen Sophia found John seated at their over-sized table with a bloody cloth pressed to his brow. "Gods," she gasped and snatched a salve from the bench.
"It's nothing to fret over," said John. He took away the dirtied cloth to show a gash above his left eye.
"Serves you right for acting brash," Sophia scolded him and uncorked the bottle. It was a thick yellowish sludge that smelt slightly of honey, she dipped in a finger and held it to his face. John winced. "I haven't touched you yet," Sophia sighed. John grinned sheepishly and she couldn't help laughing at him.
He pulled her into his lap and draped his hands around her waist. "What happened to us love?"
"We just… grew apart," Sophia replied. She dabbed a generous amount of salve on his wound. That was true, she hadn't shared a bed with him for over two months and at that moment she realized that she never stopped loving him. "John, I miss the breeze in my hair and the salt on my skin just as much as you. But I'm happier than I've ever been here. Will you do it for me?"
John tenderly rubbed some of the salve into her bruised hand, "you always threw a good right." They both laughed. "I suppose, we are better off than most of the others."
Sophia nodded. "We should be thankful for that, though I do miss them terribly."
"What of Ann?" John asked.
"I catch glimpse of her down in the markets. A boy on one hip, another in her skirts. They look just like their mother, both freckled with auburn hair."
"Does she ever see you?"
Sophia shook her head. "Best stay away, Ann's had more than her fair share of trouble. She's honoured us enough by keeping her word."
They sat in silence. "I'm feeling a little chilly and I think we have some catching up to do," John grinned. He was about to pull her back to the warmth of the hearth when a knock came at the door. The pair tensed, locked in their embrace, they listened as the knock came again, louder this time and a curt voice spoke through the wood.
"By order of his Majesty's court and the crowning King of England, we request that you open this door and no further charges will be pressed upon those inside."
"Fuck!" John swore before Sophia could clamp her hand over his mouth to silence him.
"Get Anna," she hissed and darted across the room. Her heart beat franticly in her chest and her hands shook so bad she could barely grip the table to move it. Dropping to her knees, Sophia flicked up the woven mat and grasped the metal ring bolted to the floor. The hidden panel was old and heavy, and its hinges worn with rust from years of neglect. With all her strength, Sophia lifted the door enough to hold the lip with her fingertips. As it came away from the floor, a dozen brown insects scattered from the small opening and a few disappeared up her loose sleeve. Sophia yelped in surprise and fell back on her rear, feverishly clawing at her arm.
The knocks at the door were becoming more urgent, angry voices from outside. "I order you to open this door. NOW!"
"Piss off!" Sophia shrieked and lunged for the ring again. The prickle of tiny feet still lingered on her skin but she didn't care, or when more slipped from the darkness again. Sophia threw all her weight against the door and with a groan of aged metal, stood straight. John appeared beside her with Anna bundled in his arms.
"We know you're in there!" the men outside yelled.
Sophia tied a lantern to his leather belt and took her sleeping daughter from his arms. "You first," she whispered.
Her words startled him; John's eyes were wide with disbelief. "What? No!"
"You're the strongest out of both of us -," Sophia started but john cut her off.
"I'm not leaving you here," he told her firmly. "We do this together, as a family."
"John," Sophia begged, shaking his arm. "Please." Her stomach twisted with fear, for the first time she was scared of the men standing on the other side of their door.
"No," he interrupted her words again. "I don't want to hear this."
"God dammit Johnny!" Sophia's fingernails bit into his skin. "If my daughter falls into Templar hands I swear… you will never sleep sound in your bed again," she blazed.
John stared at her, his eyes filled with anguish. Her pleads tore him, she could see that and guilt burned deep in her guts for how harshly she had acted. How blind she was not to see that what she was asking hurt him as well.
Sophia stepped away from the opening. "Please," her voice barely a whisper.
His jaw was set but the deep kiss they shared before John took to the hole was more than words could speak. She watched him descend down the ladder, bathing the tunnel walls in an orange glow. A draft seeped up from the shadows, teasing the flame and bringing a sour stench up with it. Sophia coughed and covered her face, she could hear John do the same.
"Alright let her go," John called when he had reached the bottom.
Anna had never looked more beautiful. Thick auburn curls framed her delicate features, soft pink lips and thick long lashes curled from closed lids that hid her merry brown orbs. She had her father's nose, thin and button like. There her mother planted a gentle kiss and another on her rosy cheek. Sophia cradled her tightly in her arms, knowing that it may be the last time she would see her child's face.
"I'll catch her I promise," John reassured her.
As Sophia let her daughter's body slip from her fingers she prayed the girl may reach the safety of her fathers' arms. There was a loud grunt and a startled cry, Sophia held her breath. Hushed voices that she could not make out drifted up from the bottom.
"I've got her," called John, "now your turn."
There was a loud cracking of wood behind her she was running out of time.
"No love," she said. The words stuck in her throat, numbly she began to close the door.
"Sophia!" John yelled.
"It's over John," she said. "Find Anto, he'll know what to do".
"Sophia! Don't you dare close that -," John demanded but his cries were soon muffed by wood.
She barely had time to put the table back in place before the front door swung back on its hinges with a loud crack. Five men dressed in red piled into the crowded room and aimed their rifles at her head. "At ease gentlemen, we want this one… alive." The voice belonged to a man Sophia hadn't seen in years and her stomach grew uneasy. He entered the room after the soldiers and stepped to the front of the group.
"Commodore Robert Lindsey," said Sophia with a mocking smile, "I thought you retired back to England."
Age had been kind to the Commodore; faint lines creased at the corners of grey eyes and outlined his thinning mouth. He wore a blue wool frock coat, trimmed with gold braid and looped across his right chest, and the hat atop his powdered wig. A white leather belt was slung around his torso and another at his waist. The Commodore had served twenty-two years in the Royal Navy, eight of those he had spent pestering her.
Lindsey held up a folded piece of parchment from his coat pocket. "I did for some time," he said curtly, "but it would seem that there are a few loose ends that need… finishing."
Sophia smiled. "And by loose ends I presume you mean me, how thoughtful of you Commodore."
"You would presume correct Miss Earnheart," praised Lindsey.
"So you come to my home, break down my door and threaten to arrest me. On what charges may I ask?" Sophia said coyly.
"Must we play this game? Do I need to remind you of the string of charges against your name, not to mention the ridiculous bounty the crown has on your head." Lindsey moved toward the warm hearth, the gold buttons fastened on his red lapel gleamed in the light. With a white gloved hand he picked up John's bottle of ale and inspected it.
"Of course. How could I forget, why else would you be here. What I would like to know is how you came to find me here. My home is quiet covered by the surrounding jungles,"
"Your ship was sighted off the coast of Africa, pillaging merchant vessels six months ago. It wasn't hard to track the back to Kinston," said Lindsey and placed the bottle on the table. "Quite foolish of you really Miss Earnheart. The time of pirates has come and long gone."
John she thought bitterly. Sophia clutched the table tighter, afraid that they might find the trapdoor below. "What can I say. Old habits die hard," she said smugly.
Lindsey scowled. "It would seem so. Miss Earnheart I am placing you under arrest where you shall be escorted back to Port Royal for further judgment on your part."
"Am I now," Sophia said as she loosened her sword from its scabbard.
The men in the room grew tense, their grips tightened on their rifles. Bayonets gleamed in the firelight. Lindsey drew his own sword, a long thin rapier with an elegantly forged gold and leather hilt. "Come quietly and it will go easier for you, pirate."
Sophia smirked. "Well you know me. I was never one for quiet," she quipped. In one swift motion her sword was drawn and buried deep to the hilt inside a guard's chest. The blade came out bloody and with a flick of her wrist another slipped with a quiet snick, and found itself lodged in a man's eyeball. Blood sprayed from the socked as he screamed and clutched his face. She dropped and rolled. A red coat's bayonet whizzed past her ear. Sophia sprang back to her feet and made for the door. To her left another tried to block her escape, she swung out her sword. But before it could hit its target she was thrust from behind and fell to the floor, nicking the man's face instead of his neck. She felt the cold, sharp steel of a sword pressed against her throat and looked up to find the Commodore smiling victoriously down at her.
"Drop your weapon," Lindsey said smugly.
Sophia let her sword clatter to the wooden floor with defeat and raised her hands, slick with blood. She was bound with shackles and pushed out into the warm night.
Hi everyone. I've been working on this one for a while now. It's been a since I posted anything really. Before Christmas I went back and read my first one and let's just say for a person who reads a lot I was quiet shamed with how poor it was. So I'm still using my oc Sophia, just a new story and I will post it as one as I don't think t would be fair to use the likes of the other on this one. Sorry it's a bit long. Anyway enough talk, here it is and I hope you enjoy. Have a great day.
Xo Zoe.
I do not own Assassins Creed or any of ubisofts charecters in the game. Just my Oc Sophia.