"Claws? Exactly who in their right mind would choose a set of long claws to serve as their weapon of choice?"
Evie slightly grimaced as the antiseptic was applied to the wounds on her back, "Emily, these men were impersonating a demonic urban legend in order to terrorize the people of Lambeth, I highly doubt the concept of a sound mind ever entered the equation."
"I'm rather surprised that they were able to wound you as badly as they did, your brother is usually the one stumbling in covered in bruises and gashes from head to toe."
It was true, part of their differing styles of combat. Evie preferred isolating her opponents, catching them by surprise, and eliminating them with a single well placed strike. A throwing knife to the back of the skull, a hidden blade to the base of the spine. If a fight went as she preferred, her opponent didn't have time to realize what was happening, much less strike back. That wasn't to say that she couldn't hold her own in a stand up fight, but even when she had to resort to her cane sword, she still preferred to out maneuver her opponents rather than over power them, forcing them into one-on-one fights and picking them off separately.
Jacob was a different matter, whereas Evie did everything she could to avoid getting cornered or surrounded, Jacob reveled in it. He would wade into the middle of the largest knot of opponents he could find, bouncing from opponent to opponent, hacking and slashing with his kukri until he was the only one left standing. He would unleash a barrage of strikes against his opponents, countering the worst of his opponents' attacks while ignoring the minor ones. It was a messy, wild, fighting style that left him covered in blood, his own and his opponents, bruises, and cuts. But even Evie couldn't deny that it worked well for him.
"Jack, or whatever the man in costume's name was, had some sort of extremely potent form of smoke grenades, I had one of the men take those that remained to Mister Bell's workshop. I'll be quite interested to see what he makes of them. They had some form of hallucinogen or sedative in them, combined with a rather powerful explosive for something so small." Evie clenched her teeth as Emily sewed the wounds closed, she could have asked for a light painkiller, but preferred to keep her senses about her.
"Perhaps you should have Jacob's friend Mister Darwin take a look at it." Now that was an odd match, why a man such as Charles Darwin would voluntarily choose to spend time with someone like Jacob was beyond her. She loved her brother, but an intellectual, he was not.
"Perhaps after Mister Bell has finished with it, are you nearly finished?" Evie didn't mean to rush her, but she would prefer to redress as soon as possible. The last thing that she wanted was for Nigel or the driver's apprentice, Bob, to walk in and see her chest in its full glory.
"Nearly, though it's likely that it will scar, I'm amazed that you and your brother don't gain more scars than you do, though they do make you look dashing." That was a gift from their mother, or so their father always told them.
"Is that flattery I detect Emily?"
"And what would I need flattery for, I already have you undressed," Evie experienced a cross between a giggle and a wince as Emily finished the stitching, "There we are."
"Thank you Emily," Evie stood and went to her dresser, retrieving a fresh set of clothing.
"Not a problem, now Miss Frye, I was wondering if you would join me for a drink this evening." Now there was an interesting proposition. Evie couldn't deny that she was attracted to Emily. Between her body, her personality, and her mind, it would be impossible not to be. She just assumed that they were… incompatible.
"First flattery, and now inviting me to a night on the town. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were courting me Miss Lyons." It was as close to an open discussion as they could get without outright admitting their sapphic predilections.
"Perhaps in this case the best outcome is achieved by not knowing better."
For a moment, Evie was rendered speechless at such an open admission. Finally she spoke
"I'll get my coat."
….
And so they did, procuring a carriage from the Rooks pool, and enlisting one of the lower ranking rooks, Nigel Bumble, to serve as a chauffer, the two set off into the night. After finding the dives of Whitechapel not to their liking, the two chose to risk venturing into the Blighter dominated Strand. The Strand, being the heart of London nightlife at the time, offered a bevy of options for the two young women to choose from. They enjoyed a fine dinner at Simpson's, took in a play at the Royal Strand Theater, and ended their evening in a cozy little pub known as the Wolf-and-Sword where they bumped into one of the last people they would have expected to see.
"Mister Wynert, quite a surprise to see you outside of Southwark." Evie motioned for the lithe bodied man to join them at their table.
"Frye, no less surprising to see you so deep in Blighter territory," Ned looked over at Emily, "with company. A pleasure to see you again Miss Lyons."
"You two know each other?" for no particular reason that she could identify, Evie felt an odd pang jealousy. She couldn't explain why, she had no claim to Emily, but she felt it just the same.
"It's quite useful to maintatin a trusted nurse, especially for someone in my particular position." That certainly made sense, despite the fact that the twins deliberately never mentioned it, Wynert was quite obviously… Evie still struggled for the right way to describe it… was not born a man. Having a medical professional he could trust probably saved him a great deal of trouble when he required medical attention, just as it did for Evie, albeit for different reasons.
"If you two will excuse me for a moment, I have to go powder my nose. Would you mind ordering me another drink Evie?" Evie nodded, but couldn't resist watching as Emily walked away.
Stop it, she mentally smacked herself, your acting like Jacob.
"So you and Emily seem very… close." Ned sipped his ale, looking at Evie over the rims of glasses.
"Perhaps, do you have a problem with it?" Evie immediately knew that she had sounded far more defensive than she intended.
Ned gave her a dry look, "Frye, of all the people in London, you expect me to take issue with who you choose to share your bed with."
"We haven't…" Evie stammered, before deciding that particular conversation wasn't one she wished to have currently.
She felt a blush flow across her face as she realized the lunacy of the imagined predjudice. "I apologize Mister Wynert, I sometimes forget that you are…" she caught herself, unsure how to tactfully end the statement.
To her surprise, rather than look angry or annoyed, Wynert chuckled.
"A woman living as a man, it's alright Frye. I'm not insane, I'm perfectly aware that from an entirely medical standpoint, everyone at this table is a woman. I've simply found life as a man to be more to my liking. And kill the Mister Wynert business, call me Wynert, or Ned."
Evie was surprised by the informality of the illegitimate businessman, and was torn between the desire to regain her composure and her own curiosity into their financial consultant.
"Alright Ned, if you don't mind me asking who were you before you became who you are now?" it was a dreadfully personal question, but Evie's innate curiosity got the better of her.
Ned sighed, took off his glasses and began wiping them with a handkerchief he'd retrieved from his suit pocket.
"Henrietta Mary Wynn, youngest daughter of one of New York's premiere families. To a normal girl, my childhood probably would have been idyllic. It was all petticoats, dresses, boys, and balls, everything you'd expect from a high society upbringing. My parents, being part of the new money American gentry, made sure that I was given the best of everything that money could buy. My mother made sure that I wore the finest clothes, had the finest dolls, and was given the finest of teaching etiquette, dancing, and literature. If everything had gone according to plan, I would have gone on to be married off to some prince of American capitalism and have plenty of children. It was as close to a fairy tale life as one can get."
Satisfied they were thoroughly clean, Ned tucked the handkerchief back into his jacket and slid his glasses back on "I hated every moment of it, the dresses felt like personal prisons, the boys treated me as if I were a mare to be broken, and the balls made me feel like a show pony being displayed for potential buyers."
Ned paused as a server came over to their table, Evie ordered a fresh round of drinks.
As the server left, Evie brought the conversation back to the topic at hand, "So you decided to live as a man?"
Ned rolled his eyes slightly, this was a conversation that he'd obviously had before. "There was no moment when I just decided to live as a man, it was more of a constant feeling in the back of my mind that none of it felt right. My mother, coming from an old money southern family, completely rejected the idea that I didn't feel comfortable in my position and insisted that it was just nerves and the feeling would go away. I don't know if she actually believed it or just couldn't bear the idea of the shame it would bring to the family."
"Father was less dismissive, probably because he described himself as an 'up jumped ruffian dedicated to destroying polite society from within'." Ned chuckled at the memory, his eyes going wistful for a moment.
Then, like smoke, the look in his eyes evaporated and he continued his story. "He gained his fortune as a privateer and made a number of wise investments. Old money has never liked new money. He learned of my preferences one day when he inadvertently caught me trying on one of my brothers' suits when I was eight. He asked me what I was doing, I didn't know what else to do, so I told him the truth, that I liked being a boy better than being a girl. He just laughed, shook his head, and said, 'I have three sons, why not another.' Then he just walked out of the room"
The server returned with their drinks, Evie's curiosity was piqued. She knew what Ned was doing, going into great detail about the parts he was comfortable sharing in order to distract her from the more important questions. Before Evie could interject with one of the dozens of questions buzzing in her mind, Ned preempted her with one of his own.
"So, you've heard my story, tell me Frye, what's it like to be raised as an Assassin?"
Jacob, Evie mentally hissed. She would have to have a long talk with him about the third tenet of the creed the next time she saw him. "I'm sure you heard all about it from my brother."
Ned knitted his fingers together, "No actually, he's been tight lipped on the subject."
Evie's eyes widened in shock, "then how…"
Ned didn't miss a beat, "Messages my people intercept when hijacking Blighter shipments, they keep referring to you as 'disruptive Assassin twins,' 'the annoying Assassin bastards of that damn Ethan Frye,' or my personal favorite 'the berk Assassin and his bint sister who keep killing all our boys.' The descriptions varied based on the author, but I did some digging and connections turned up. I don't know what's going on, I just know it's big and you two are dead in the center of it all."
"I'll tell you about the Assassins as soon as you tell me about your friend Mister Worth." Now it was Ned's turn to be surprised. It was a bluff of course, Henry's people hadn't been able to get more than a name, but it seemed to work.
Ned opened his mouth as if to respond, but stopped and closed it again.
Finally a grin spread across his face, "You're more interesting than your brother makes you out to be Frye."
"I'll take that as a compliment," the grin on Evie's face faltered, "Emily has been gone for quite a while now."
The look in Ned's eyes changed to suspicion and a small sense of dread. "In Blighter territory."
In an instant, the two of them were on their feet and moving. Evie's cane sword was in her hand and Ned's hand was tucked into his jacket, obviously clutching a pistol.
It didn't take long for them to see that things had gone wrong. The hallway had obvious signs of a struggle, the signs creating a clear path for them to follow. The signs led down the hall, past the privies, and to a door that opened out into a back alley behind the pub.
"Get 'er into the damn carriage."
Emily was struggling in the grip of one of the larger Blighters, she was surrounded by a half dozen others.
"She's won't stop bloody thrashin', like a bloody demon, she is."
Just as the large man said, Emily was kicking, lunging, and shrieking like a banshee. Even with all the commotion, you'd never hear it over the sound of the busy street or in the packed pub.
The Blighters were so caught up with her that they didn't notice when Evie and Ned stepped out into the alley.
Emily saw them and suddenly stopped struggling, meeting Evie's gaze, she gave a slight nod. There was a small movement of her hand and suddenly the man holding her screamed out in pain and blood bloomed on his trousers.
Evie didn't waste a second, she rushed two of the men. She pulled the top of her cane off and slammed the blade into the back of a man's skull, then spun around striking another man with the cane itself to knock him off balance. She slid the sword into the man's carotid artery, coating the alley in bright red blood.
While that happened, Ned fired off two well aimed shots, each one adding a fresh air way into a Blighter's skull.
Evie returned her focus to Emily, finding her standing in front of the now obviously dead Blighter that had been holding her. The whole affair had lasted less than a minute, except…
There, two women sprinting down the alleyway, they'd realized the skirmish was lost and were fleeing. Undoubtedly to get reinforcements.
"Ned," she said.
"I've got them," He responded, adopting a marksman's stance. He fired one shot, one of the women collapsed. He realigned his aim for the other and fired, but the woman had seen her friend go down and threw herself into a roll. It was a clumsy, amateur, move that most likely broke her wrist, but it worked, the shot went wide. The Blighter turned the corner and disappeared out of sight.
"Damn," Ned said.
"We need to get out of here, She'll have every Blighter in the strand on us in a few minutes." Ned and Emily nodded. Evie grabbed Emily's arm and the three of them sprinted down the alley, emerging into the street.
"Miss Frye, Miss Lyons… Mister Wynert, what are you doing here?" The three of them rushed past Nigel, to the carriage.
"No time for that Bumble, get us to Rook territory, now!" Wynert said as he scrambled onto the perch.
Evie climbed on top of the carriage while Emily slipped inside. Nigel spurred the horses into a trot and the vehicle jolted into motion.
"Faster Nigel, we need to get out of here." Evie crouched low on the roof of the carriage, scanning the street for the impending assault. Nigel whipped the horses into a gallop just as she saw them.
One… two… three of them… No, four carriages, two covered, two open, and all brimming with Blighters. Ned reloaded his pistol and began shooting.
Several of his shots made their mark, sending a number of Blighters tumbling to the cobble stones, but the carriages continued to gain ground.
As the carriages drew closer, Evie got an idea.
"Drop back slightly" she called to Nigel, who did as told. The lad looked terrified, but he was doing his task admirably. He had potential, Evie noted with a hint of pride.
A carriage moved directly behind them, they were trying to box them in. When the enemy was close enough that their horses were less than a foot from the back of the carriage, Evie flattened her hands against the roof and leapt across the gap like a cat.
A perfect jump, she landed on top of the Blighter carriage. Before the driver could react, Evie was upon him, her hidden blade piercing his skull just behind the ear causing immediate death. She slashed the reins in two and tossed them aside, ensuring no other Blighter could climb out of the carriage to regain control of the horses.
With that done, she negotiated her way back across the gap to her allies, using the horse as a stepping stone this time.
Though one carriage was neutralized, another, this one open, had come along side. A thin, spry looking man attempted to recreate Evie's maneuver, leaping from the open topped carriage and gaining a foot hold on the step to the door of the carriage just as Ned sent a bullet through the heart of the driver. The carriage careened away, but the thin man clung to the carriage like a leach to an artery.
Before Evie could move on this man, a shot rang out and his face disintegrated into a bloody mess. The man's death grip on the carriage released and his corpse dropped like a stone.
Evie looked at Ned, but he shook his head, the shot hadn't come from him. The shot had come from within the carriage. Evie leaned down over the edge and found herself staring down the barrel of a Colt Army revolver.
"Why do you have a gun?" Evie asked, shocked.
'Distinctly not the time for this discussion." As if to punctuate Emily's statement, a bullet slammed into the side of the carriage, then another, and another. The last two carriages of Blighters were playing it smarter than their comrades, staying too far away for Evie to board their carriages while using pistols to try and suppress Ned.
"I can't get a decent shot Frye, and if I can't, neither can your girl. You're out in the open, we have to do something." Ned was right, if they didn't do something quickly, Evie was going to get shot.
Thinking quickly, a new plan formed in her mind. She felt inside her coat for the concealed pocket that contained two small orbs, smoke bombs from the would-be jack that she'd kept for herself while Aleck examined the rest. With a carefully aimed throw, she hurled one of the bombs at an enemy carriage.
Success, the bomb landed dead center on the perch of the carriage. It detonated, knocking the driver to his death and obscuring both carriages in smoke. Evie concentrated and let the world fade into hues of black and white. The Blighters gained a bright red glow while their carriages took on a white outline. More importantly, so did their horses.
Evie raised her gauntlet and engaged the mechanism to deploy her grappling hook. She'd never tried to use it this way before, but it was this or get shot. The grappling hook shot out and buried itself in the flank of one of the Blighters' horses, Evie then yanked with all her might, dragging the horse her way…
Success! The horses dragged the driverless carriage front of the other. With one more hard yank, she pulled the hook free from the horse just as the two carriages collided with an explosion of metal and wood smashing and splintering. The hook retracted into her gauntlet with a whir as the crash disappeared from view. The rest of the ride back to Rook territory was uneventful, Evie remained on the roof until they were at the station that served as the next stop for the train.
"You're bleeding Evie," Emily said as they were finally in Evie's quarters once more.
Evie looked down, and sure enough, there was a gash across her arm. One of the bullets must have grazed her, cutting through her sleeve on her upper right arm. The adrenaline was still serving as an anesthetic, preventing her from feeling it. "Oh, so I am. No matter, I believe now would be a better time to answer my question.
"I should dress that wound, I'm out of antiseptic. I saw a medical bag in your brother's compartment, it most likely has a bottle. I'll go and retrieve it." Emily slipped out of the room.
Evie turned to Ned, "Do you know why she has a gun?"
Ned shrugged, "Not specifically, but I can hazard a guess. She's a nurse on retainer to the biggest fence in London, and two up and coming gang leaders. I'd certainly keep a weapon at the ready, wouldn't you?"
Yes, Evie thought, she never went anywhere without a weapon as it was. But that still left questions, where did she learn how to use it, where did she get the American weapon, and how did she kill the Blighter that had been holding her. There hadn't been a gun shot in the alley other than those fired by Ned.
"I've got to get going, business to handle, shipments to move. Pay me a visit at my office sometime, I'll introduce you to my tailor. Seems like you could use some new equipment." With a tip of his hat, Ned was off and moving. Stepping out of the compartment and into the station.
"Evie," came Emily's voice, the tone oddly serious, "I need you to answer something honestly for me."
Evie turned and saw Emily standing in the door way, a medical bag in her hand. She saw the inscription on the handle and cursed.
"Why does your brother have Doctor Elliotson's bag?"
This was a pretty long chapter for this story, and it had a lot more action in it. Most of these chapters will probably stay close to the one to two thousand word mark. But give me your opinions, how'd it turn out?
Oh and what did you guys think of Ned, I love his character, but it is just so heavily glossed over in the game, which I have mixed feelings about. He, like Evie, didn't get near the coverage he should have.
Give me some opinions people.
