The Way of the Wolf

'2'

Sanctuary

Morning was quiet, just like every other morning. Connor awoke to the light in his eyes, and as he sat up, his mind instantly thought of the boy in the trees. Young Chien, laying alone in the grass, nobody to care for him, just as he had gone through when he searched for his late mentor. Morning had never felt so painful, so stressful, and as he got up, he felt pain in all his joints, a pain that began to form when he was in the midst of his goal. As if his body was broken from his journeys, his mission, and his soul was all that held him together left.

Descending the staircase to the kitchens, he smiled when he saw some warm bread awaiting him on a plate. It was obvious that one of the villagers had been in to prepare it, as usual, and he always made a mental point to find out who it was and thank them.

Taking it up, he walked outside, and he didn't even bother to pull on his boots. He looked out at the forest, a heavy feeling in his chest. Glancing around, he walked in through the brush, the gift of his vision kicking in to find Chien's path again. Once he got back to the encampment, the vision disappeared.

Lying in the grass, Chien was fast asleep. The deer that had once been there was gutted and cooked, leftovers curled up in a blanket. He was rolled up in his own blankets, his messy mud hair over his eyes. Each freckle stuck out on his skin, and Connor admired the child's bravery as he crouched down and touched his shoulder.

As soon as one finger touched the boy, a shout came from him, and Chien shot up, raising a knife and cutting Connor's palm. Crying out, he jumped back, blood dribbling down his fingers. Hissing in pain, he looked at Chien, who was crouching with fear in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?!" he said. "Get away from here! I told you that already!"

Connor raised his hands up. "I have no weapons," he said. "Nothing that could harm you, but I wanted to bring you this." He revealed the warm bread, setting it on one of the blankets. "I thought you might like something more than just deer. Venison is good, but having that for every meal might become dissatisfying."

Chien watched him a moment, then lowered the knife. "What do you want from me?" he said.

Connor shook his head. "You know, I'm not even sure myself," he said. "I remember being in a situation like yours... I had stayed outside the manor for a long time. The difference is that I was trying to get in." When he saw that Chien wasn't relaxed, he tried to continue. "My father had abandoned my mother and I… Then one of his allies had burned down my village and killed my mother. I was told to come to this place and learn to…"

Chien's eyes were alight with interest now. He lowered the blade fully, head tilting slightly. A bit of his right ear became visible, and Connor saw that a large chunk of it was missing. Now that the boy was interested, it was a good step to inviting him into the manor, and to possibly take care of him.

"Why did you stop telling the story?" Chien asked.

Connor realized the silence had gone on for a long time, and shook his head. "It's a difficult thing to talk about…" he answered. "… And… I am starting to realize what aging is, and I should go home and sit down for a while… Would you like to join me? Just for the day, you don't have to stay any longer than when you want to go."

Chien watched a moment, but then nodded. "Okay…" He picked up the blankets containing the venison, hefted them over his shoulder, then followed Connor out of the forest and onto the manor property. When they broke out from the trees, a few young kids had been playing on the property, stopping and watching them. They were looking at Chien, just after waving to Connor.

Chien's cheeks became red with embarrassment, and he turned away. Connor gave a look to the children, a look that told them they could not play on the property that day. All the kids left but one, a young girl who ran up to them instead. "Mr. Kenway! Mr. Kenway!" she said. Chien seemed to be more shy and embarrassed, for he crossed to be hiding behind Connor as the girl approached.

"What is it, Laura?" he asked the girl, who looked over at Chien. Chien hid behind Connor more, covering his face with his hands.

"Who's the boy, Mr. Kenway? Is he a new boy? Did you help him, too?"

Chien seemed surprised by the statement, but said nothing.

Connor let out a sigh, shaking his head. "Laura, you need to go back to your parents okay? You can come and visit another day. Today isn't a good day."

Laura pouted, but skipped away. Chien watched after her, shy but fascinated. Connor saw the boy's expression and smiled a little. "Maybe you will find happiness like her, the way that I never did."

Chien blushed and grumbled something under his breath. Connor just shook his head again and led him into the manor, and he found entertainment in the awe that was on the boy's face. Chien set down his blankets of venison, looking around and taking a few steps. "You own this place?"he asked.

Connor leaned against the wall and nodded. "All of it was my mentor's," he said. "I inherited it when he died."

Chien looked at Connor, who felt as though he was being assessed by those young eyes. Standing up straight, he nodded to another room. "There's a washroom just there. I can get water. You must be looking forward to a bath."

Chien backed up. "You'll tell me the story, right?"

Connor nodded. "Of course. But you must get cleaned up first. I'll see if there are any spare clothes for you while you bathe. And wait until I get water, it would be strange if there wasn't any."

Chien's face heated up, freckles popping out from the colour as he went to the washroom, closing the door behind him. Chuckling, Connor got many buckets of water, pouring them out into a large wooden tub in the room. Then he left Chien to clean up as he began to look through his things for clothes that were appropriate for a young boy. In the middle of his search, his eyes settled on his assassin clothing, and he stared at it for some time before shaking his head and pulling out his old clothing from when he was that age. "I hope he doesn't mind Mohawk clothing…"

Chien had adored the clothes the moment he got them. He looked at himself in the mirror, and Connor noted that the clothing was still slightly too big for Chien. A young boy with a thin frame, though Connor figured that he had been eating less and would be able to fit into those clothes if he ate enough.

"Can you tell me the story now?" Chien asked, turning to him. He looked awkward, standing there in foreign clothing.

"Of course," Connor said. "Why don't we have some stew with your story?"

And so Connor began to regale his entire story to Chien, who had been fascinated with it from the moment it started to the moment Charles Lee was killed. Connor had begun to tell him of the aftermath, and adjustment to life, when he had noticed that the boy had fallen asleep. It was just past noon, but the boy had dark circles under his eyes and had nodded off in his chair, four empty bowls of stew sitting out on the table before him. Smiling, Connor stood, set the bowls aside, then picked up the boy and began to ascend the staircase, bringing him to his old bedroom. When he held the boy, Chien's head lulled into his shoulder, and he seemed so small and innocent, and Connor remembered what Chien had told him.

He had been sold by his mother for food, and an abusive owner had taken him in. He had been given a new name, and was disrespected by Englishmen because he was French. He figured that this had happened when he was still very young, because the French accent was barely yet lingering, and as he tucked him into bed, Connor felt his heart give out to the boy.

"I'll take care of you, Chien," he whispered. "You'll be safe, Okwaho."