About two months had passed from the dog's arrival when Connor announced that he was due to leave for a mission in Quebec.
"It will take a month, maybe two" he concluded.
"Very well, then" said Haytham wiping his lips clean with a napkin. He had to admit that he had never being enjoying eggs so much as he was now, at the Manor. He took a moment to exhale and then he asked: "When are we leaving?"
"I am leaving after breakfast".
"You. I see. And since when are you allowed to leave your... home without warning?" he looked at his son's Mentor, hoping to find support, but he got just a bothered sneer.
"I always leave my base when I am needed elsewhere, Father. I doubt you would do differently".
"And why exactly am I not allowed to come with you?"
"You would be a distraction" Connor concluded. He stood up and headed toward the kitchen.
"A distraction! Excuse me! I am an experienced man. My presence can only benefit your cause".
"You are gnawing off my patience, Father! I cannot stand you anymore!" He turned to face his parent, "you never, ever leave me alone, and I have to hear your constant grumbling even when I think I could get some privacy in my room, at night"
"Oh, really?"
"Yes!"
During the argument, the elder Assassin sat in his usual chair and looked at the two men shouting against each other. He didn't favour either of the two, and when he finally stood up to clean the table the shouting had moved upstairs.
"What a bother" he grumbled between himself, bothered by the absence of quiet. "Come in, Bobby" he said louder upon hearing footsteps approaching the kitchen.
"Good morning, Mentor. We are all waiting for Connor. The boy is late!"
"Yes. I don't think there will be any departure today. Here, have some tea".
As always, his predictions were right. Connor and Haytham went on shouting against each other and to bustle around the house, regardless of the passing of time. They had begun their argument over the young man's departure, and now they were insulting each other for completely different matters.
"... and you have such an ugly nose that I would feel ashamed to set my foot off the doorstep!" shouted Connor.
"Listen who's talking! If I had those ears I would be wearing a hood even while sleeping!"
"Guess who I got them from. You." For a moment, the two men stared at each other with challenging eyes. The Assassin took the first move: he started running, followed shortly after by his father, who could certainly not accept such dishonour.
"You are slow, Father!" he shouted looking behind his shoulders.
They had already passed the main street and where now approaching the wildest area of the Manor. Connor thought that that was happiness: having a family, someone to trust and who got mad at the thought of being deprived of him, the sound of pottery clashing at the dinner table, a day of rest, free of any duty, and without regret for it.
The scenario changed quickly in front of Connor's eyes: soon, the sea came into his sight alongside the Aquila. He slowed down: he could hear his father's panting become almost pained. He stopped completely in front of the edge of the cliff which offered the best view of the ship.
"Isn't this beautiful, Father?" he asked, turning back and smiling. His father's expression, which looked as if the man was going to burst out and scold his son in the worst of the ways, wavered at the sight of the boy's smiling face. His facial wrinkles contracted and his expression looked unnatural for a long minute. Then, finally, the man let go of his muscles and relaxed slowly so that they could reveal the strangest and most difficult smile ever seen.
"Now I almost understand, Father... what Ista has found in you that she liked" he murmured, coming nearer and awkwardly wrapping his arm around his father's shoulders. The man was surely a pain in the neck, but only at times. And maybe, just maybe, it was worth tolerating him after all.