Chapter IV


There I was, with my sword in my hand, facing two soldiers, armed as well; and, of course, Elizabeth behind me. How does one always end up in a situation like this?

"If I turn around, they stab me!" I explained. "But you run, Liza!"

Before anyone could say anything else, the blond man pushed his sword forward and I used his strength in my own will, pulling my sword against his and spinning my body to the right, under his sword. Before I could finish the attack, the other man prepared to stab me, so I used the blond soldier as a shield, grabbing him by the neck, and stabbing the brown haired one in the throat, when his sword was still stuck in the other man's chest.

Luckily there weren't many people there, except for two or three women running to get help. Liza's jaw was fallen and I grabbed her hand, pulling her away. If I had seen a way to stun them without such violence, I would have used it… Now there were drips of blood on my clothes and two men gasping for air on the ground.

"We must get out of here…" I murmured.

"You think?!"

.

After running for quite some time, Liza and I realized we were not being followed and decided to rest on a nearby bench. I had merely a few drips of the soldiers' blood on my shirt, so it did not take much to hide it. Not sure why, I rubbed it a bit. I knew it would not come out… Yet I still did.

"Someone has been training…" Liza said.

I smiled as she and I gasped for air.

"You did not think I could beat them?" I asked.

"Honestly? No… But damn!"

"What if your father heard you speaking like that, Liza?" I teased.

Liza had a very demanding and perfectionist father, who tolerated few things and wished her to be a perfect lady. If only he knew…

She rolled her eyes.

"I bet it was that fine Captain to teach you that…" She laughed.

Liza had a sort of a «crush» for William Jackson, the Captain of the ship I sailed with, a very attractive man in his thirties, and the son of a famous pirate whose name I can never recall. But then again, Liza had a «crush» on every man she saw that even but a few drips of charm.

"Or perhaps it was your Master… Nathan?" She asked.

"Haytham." I corrected.

"Yes! Haytham! Was that his teaching?"

"Yes, Liza… I was actually looking for him when I saw you, once more, messing with soldiers."

"I was merely informing myself with news of the city, I had no idea they had those types of thoughts…"

"Hum-hum…"

"So why are you not in a boat with a bunch of drunk, fat, smelly men, in search of treasures and uncharted islands? Have you been traveling with Nathan again?"

"Haytham. No, I have actually being with his son, Connor." She frowned. "It is a long story."

"He has a son?"

"Apparently." I said, even though no one could be sure.

To my biggest surprise, I saw the actual Connor walking in our direction, a few meters away, passing at the moment by a small market.

«Please don't come next to us… Please, please…»

"I do not like that name… Connor… Nah, it does not sound manly enough." Liza complained.

"Oh, look. There he comes now…"

Connor walked until he was right in front of our bench, still with the blue naval outfit. He took the hat off. Through the corner of my eye, I saw Liza's jaw falling and I could not help to smirk a bit.

"Hello Evelyn." He said with the hat in front his chest.

"Connor…" I got up, holding Liza's hand. "This is Elizabeth, a friend of mine here from Boston."

"It is a pleasure to meet you…" She said, looking at him from top to bottom.

"You as well." Connor almost smiled and then turned to me. "I must speak with you."

"I should go, I must find a friend. I will meet you later, Eve." Liza said, obviously lying. "I take that back the comment about the manly thing." She whispered to me and left.

I could not hold a smile and then looked at Connor with a sight. He had his hands in front of his stomach, twirling his fingers in each other, looking down. I would never have guessed this shy person is the Assassin devil that has caused us so much trouble.

"Evelyn, I wanted to ask you where you would sleep." He said, finally looking in my eyes. "Should I tell the men to leave a cabin on the Aquila for you?"

"No, thank you." I said, with a gesture. "I appreciate it, but I should be fine in an inn."

"Do you have the money to do that?" Connor asked.

"Yes."

We stood there for a few seconds, awkwardly looking at anything but each other.

"I see…" He finally broke the silence.

After a few more awkward moments and my fight against the will to laugh, I finally spoke:

"So would you like to have supper with me in one of the inns?" I asked, not knowing what to say at that point.

"Uh, I…" He stuttered. "Of course. If it pleases you."

«If it pleases you»… Of course it does not «please me» but I must get to know you, so…

"Wonderful." I smiled. "Will you meet me here in two hours?"

"Of course."

"Alright then."

He bowed and went on his way, his destiny unknown to me. Why were conversations with him so strange? For a cold-blooded Assassin who is the Captain of a ship, the man was too shy. He was so mysterious and hard to read for me, which was not usually a problem I had.

.

After searching for Haytham in the usual places of precious meetings or merely places I knew he enjoyed, finding him revealed itself as a difficult task. I was forced to ask people, including one of those sailors who know all the gossips around. I gave him some coins only to hear him say «Mr. Kenway was currently out of town and his location was unknown». I sighted deeply.

Seriously?

I had no choice but to find something else to entertain myself with until the time for supper with Mr. Hooded-Grumpiness took place. Everything that was left was to hope I could gain some details on him. And perhaps also that Haytham would not walk in on that dining moment. That would be interesting to explain.

.

We sat on the table and ordered two equal plates without saying a word to each other. We greeted and he was actually quite friendly as we walked to an inn, but silence was set on the moment we set foot on the building's wooden floor. I took a look at the already drunken yelling men sitting all around the room and forged an amused look every time the female owner would shout for them to shut up, threatening to throw them out. She reminded me of myself on Will's ship. That was usually my task…

Yet, whenever I looked at Connor, he was giving me the same confused look, which he disguised every time I turned my face in his direction. What was it?! That look! Did he know?...

"So have you taken care of Ellen's requests?" I asked, while we were young.

"I have." He answered, getting a straighter position in his chair. "Tomorrow I will occupy the day with my own tasks."

"The person I came to visit is not in town. I have not much to do."

Connor did not reply, perhaps because our food started being served in that moment. We thanked the lady and she gave a strange look to Connor before she left our side. I frowned, but said nothing. He seemed not to notice (or pretend he didn't).

"So what is your name?" I asked after we both took the first bite.

"What? You know my name, it is Connor."

"But you are a Native."

He gave me a hurt look, as if I'd said something wrong. I smiled to let him know that I meant no harm. Race meant nothing to me, could never understand how it changed the view on someone for some people.

"You must have one of those unpronounceable Indian names." I said. "I'd like to know it."

"Oh… My birth name is Ratonhnhaké:ton."

I literally just stared at him, with my eyebrows almost united from the confusion in my face. There was no way he could teach me how to pronounce that.

"You know, Connor is a beautiful name." I laughed.

He made a cute amused look (not yet a smile) and took another bite from the meat. A few more seconds of silence were felt between us, but I caught him giving me that look once more, the one which makes me think there is something on my face.

"Alright, what is it?" I asked, putting the fork and knife down.

"What?"

"You keep looking at me like that! Is there something on my face?"

"What? No!"

"Then why do you do that? It makes me feel «confortable-ess»."

His eyebrows rose.

Confortable-ess»?" He asked.

"Yes, «confortable-ess»."

"Do you not mean «uncomfortable»?"

"No, I enjoy saying «confortable-ess»."

I do not actually say it like that at all times, it was just… a joke I used to make with my father.

"I do not think «confortabless» is a real word." Connor complained.

"I do not think your Indian name is a real word."

"It is just…" He put the fork and knife down as well. "You remind me of someone."

"Who?"

"That is not important." He said in a cold way. "I apologize if I made you uncomfortable. You… You truly remind me of her."

Of «her»? Who was «her»? By the way he immediately looked at his necklace, I could guess it was a Native female, probably the one who offered it to him. That necklace I had to describe to my master… So I reminded Connor of someone from his family, a lover, a friend or an enemy? There were many possibilities; I wished he would just tell me.

However, I did not insist.

Although the laughs and shouts filled the room, it felt like there was no sound or any sort of interaction between me and Connor. After a few minutes, a redcoat came in the tavern, holding what seemed to be a drawing of a hooded man who "had been seen in town". He showed it to a woman and asked if she'd seen him. Connor had his back turned to the entrance, so I was the one seeing the redcoat.

"So what do you do? I mean, as in work?" I asked Connor.

I forged a theatrical small smile as my eyes studied his expression and I pretended not to know of his allegiance with the Assassins. He looked at me as if he was surprised that I did not know.

"It is hard to explain." He said. "I try to help people."

Meanwhile, the woman the redcoat was interrogating put a finger on her chin, looking around the room, telling the soldier she had indeed seen the hooded man. She was searching for Connor with her eyes.

"I see…" I said.

I put the cutlery down on the table and straightened my back.

"Have you ever… Killed someone? While you were trying to «help people»?"

Connor gave me a confused look.

"Why are you making that question?" He asked.

I pointed behind him.

"Because that is what that man is saying."

Connor turned around and the redcoat yelled a loud "Hey!" as he approached Connor, who got up.

"You're coming with me!" The redcoat shouted.

What was happening? Were they taking my Assassin away? My mission? My path to the Templars? No way in hell! I wanted to deal with the redcoat myself, but then I'd have too much to explain to Connor, so I merely got up and looked at them. However, to everyone's surprise, before the soldier could pull out a pistol or some rope to tie Connor's hands, the Assassin grabbed the chair where he was sitting and without a second blink, he threw it on the soldier's head, making both of them fly at least three meters before the redcoat's head hit the counter and he lost his senses.

A chair… He threw a damn chair at the guard. This man was earning some serious points in my consideration. Every living soul in that inn began screaming and Connor, completely calm, turned around and took a look at me. I had my jaw fallen and a secret will to laugh. The Assassin took a tiny bag of coins from his belt and threw in on the wooden table we were eating in. And he was not leaving without paying!

"We must leave this place." He said and walked towards the door.

"You don't say!" I shouted, following him.

Yet, before we were able to reach the door, some more soldiers came in, sword in hand and threatening looks. Connor did not take two seconds to pull his Tomahawk out and fight the soldiers. I actually put myself at his side, but he used a hand to throw me back behind him, in a protective gesture.

Well I did not need his protection.

I climbed on top of the counter, starting by yelling and teasing a soldier who was turned to Connor at the moment. He turned around and wielded his blade in the direction of my feet. I jumped and after the swing I put one foot over the sword, using the other to kick the man's head. In the meantime, Connor had dealt with two more and there was one last man left. I jumped to the ground while Connor twirled the soldier's body as if he was a mere feather. He then kicked him in the stomach and as the man leaned forward due to the pain, Connor threw his head on the counter. By that time I had a glass bottle on my hand and broke on the poor man's head.

I do not know which one was expecting that sort of skill from the other one, less: Him or I.