Altaïr sat at the wooden table in the kitchen, eating his breakfast. He was happy with their mission on one side: they finally got to assassinate a Templar. Finally a mission worthwhile, one he had crossed the North Atlantic Ocean for. Altaïr was used to having assassination missions all the time; he went out to kill someone, came back to the Masyaf castle and immediately got a new target to murder. But he felt like he had wasted his time on the ship. Months of not using his sword or hidden blade to kill some Templar – The assassins had been practising every now and then on board of the ship, though – had made him bored and restless for a good fight and kill.
On the other side he wasn't so cheerful about a boat ride again. He had lived through months of nausea on their way to the Colonies, and he didn't look forward to feeling all miserable again. I can only hope we find this Nicholas Biddle fast… Altaïr thought when he swallowed the last piece of bread.
Altaïr stood up and rolled his shoulders before checking if he had equipped himself with all of his weapons.
He then turned his head to Achilles, who had been cooking with his back towards Altaïr the whole time he had been eating. Achilles had turned around now, though, and walked up to the Syrian master assassin. For a minute they just looked at each other. Altaïr was sure Achilles won't be getting any sleep at night, when he was wondering if Connor and Altaïr got into a fight again or Altaïr did something stupid in general. Stupid? Mostly my actions save the others' lives!
"Be good, Altaïr." Was the only thing Achilles said after a while.
Altaïr just smiled reassuringly.
"Mentor." With that he turned around and walked out of the kitchen. He turned right and opened the back door of the house. He made sure to close it silently, for Kadar was still asleep. They had decided to let him sleep because he wouldn't be attending this mission anyway, and he had been really tired of yesterday's walk.
For a moment Altaïr just stood with his back against the door and sighed. It was a beautiful day, the temperature was just nice, with a few clouds in the sky and the sun warming the earth. It was the slight, cool breeze that made the temperature so comfortable. Altaïr looked in front of him and could see the sea, and the ship that would bring him and Connor to their target. The 'Aquila'; that was the name of the ship, he had heard Connor say to Kadar. Of course Kadar had asked him about his journeys on sea yesterday as well, but Altaïr hadn't really listened.
He started walking down the path that lead to the small harbour. Before they went to bed yesterday, he had agreed with Connor to meet at the ship. Now he assumed Connor was already there, arranging things.
On his way Altaïr met quite a lot of people, but he ignored them. He just stared at them from under the darkness of his hood and saw their facial expressions change from friendly to uncomfortable or maybe even a bit scared. They all must now Connor, who never wore his hood in the village and looked friendly. The ground he was walking on was often muddy from yesterday's heavy rainfall, so Altaïr had to walk through the grass every now and then.
Altaïr came to the harbour, with the sea on his right and sailors and wooden crates and little houses on his left. There was only one ship, and people were still equipping it with the crates. Altaïr assumed it was the Aquila, and just stood studying it for a moment. It was quite a big ship, with on both sides gaps through which the heads of cannons poked. It had two large masts, but the sails weren't down yet. It was painted in a dark shade of blue and at the places where the guns stood the wood was a yellowish white. He must admit he found ships interesting to look at. It was just a pity that he felt miserable on them because of the waves.
Some yelling from on the ship took his attention and he made his way on it, trying not to get in the way of the men carrying cargo.
When he boarded the ship he saw even more cannons standing on the deck. On his right was the steering wheel of the boat, and behind it stood two people talking. Altaïr had to look twice to recognize one of them was Connor in a captain's suit. He wore a large blue hat and his robes were the same blue, instead of white.
Connor noticed Altaïr standing on the lower deck, and left the older man he was talking to.
"Well well. You are not only an assassin, recruiter, hunter and peacemaker, but now you're also the captain of this ship?" Altaïr said, cocking an eyebrow and folding his arms in front of his chest while he looked amused at Connor.
"I am not as shallow as you think." Connor said, returning the smile.
Then the man Connor had been talking to, came down as well and walked up to Altaïr.
"Captain Connor had already told me you would be attending this mission. Always nice to have a skilled fighter on board. The name's Robert Faulkner." He said, shaking Altaïr's hand.
"Altaïr." Altaïr said, not bothering to add his last name.
"Get ready, Altaïr, we will be leaving soon. Am I right, captain?"
"That's correct. It's a beautiful day, with the right wind the journey shouldn't take long."
Mr. Faulkner nodded and walked away to give some sailors orders who were dumping the cargo in the ship.
"I've known him since I joined Achilles here in Davenport." Connor said to Altaïr with a smile. "He's a bit of a nervous man, but he's very useful, for he knows a lot about ships."
They watched Mr. Faulkner walk around in stress while shouting orders.
"Where did you live before you joined Achilles?" Altaïr asked, surprised by his own interest.
"I lived in Kanatahséton with my tribe, the Kanien'kehá:ka people. The village got burned down and I lost my mother. We did rebuilt it, but voices told me I had to find Achilles and become an assassin."
Altaïr nodded slowly, the foreign words spoken by Connor sounded strange to him.
"I am sorry for your loss." Altaïr said softly after a while, and it was probably the most human thing he had ever said. Even Connor looked at him in surprise for a moment, before looking at the activities on the ship again.
"Thank you."
Maybe he and Connor could get along after all.
Altaïr had climbed into the ropes to take a look at their surroundings. They were sailing in between dangerous rocks with sudden changes of where the wind came from, but Connor skilfully steered the ship through them.
The ocean was so clear, Altaïr could see the sand on the bottom of the ocean. He didn't feel very nauseous, fortunately, and he looked forward to the fight. He had never fought against an enemy on a ship that was sailing. He had never attacked a ship at all, actually, so this mission was quite exciting.
They were just sailing between to large rocks, when someone spotted another boat.
The ship tried to escape, but Connor ordered to bring the ship to full sail and it immediately caught the wind and shot forward. Now both ships were on open sea, and it suddenly started to rain. The waves became a lot rougher and Altaïr felt himself feeling sick again. He cursed and jumped down from where he was.
Altaïr tried to walk as straight as possible on the ship over to Connor at the steering wheel when two more ships were spotted.
"It's a bloody Armada! I knew he was up to something!" Mr. Faulkner shouted.
"So we fight Mr. Faulkner." Connor said back, calmly but determined.
Connor brought the Aquila next to one of the enemy ships and ordered his men to fire. However, the ship fired back.
"Get down!" Connor shouted and pulled Altaïr down, because he looked too interested in the fight to have heard the order.
"Altaïr! Pay attention, damn it!"
"What would you have me do?"
Connor pointed at the wounded gunman behind them.
"Take in his place behind the gun, and fire on my mark."
The cannons had already taken one ship down, and now the other came up to the Aquila.
"Fire!" Connor shouted, and fireballs hit the enemy ship full in its flank.
"Altaïr, fire at the gunpowder stock!"
Turning the gun, Altaïr managed to blow up the last enemy ship with a single shot. He wasn't used to shooting with guns, though. Back in Masyaf, when he had just become master assassin, he had chosen to fight with more traditional weapons, like the sword and dagger. He did know how to use a gun, because he had been trained to.
"Good shot!" Connor said, his voice barely audible because of the cheering of the sailors.
Having destroyed both ships, they continued their chase after the Randolph, the ship on which Nicholas Biddle was present.
While the rain fell down from the sky like a waterfall, Connor brought the Aquila next to the Randolph. The cannons fired at the masts of the Randolph and took them down.
"She's ours, men! Prepare to board. Biddle is mine." Connor said while everyone on the ship began to arm themselves.
"To arms! To arms!" Mr. Faulkner yelled.
Altaïr left the gun and took position next to Connor. The sailors began boarding the Randolph, and they jumped aboard of Biddle's ship.
There was fire everywhere, and Altaïr helped fight the sailors while Connor went looking for Nicholas Biddle.
After all the sailors had been killed, a circle formed around Biddle and Connor.
"Your misplaced sense of justice is pathetic! You should've never set foot outside your little village." Biddle challenged Connor, and they started fighting. Biddle was a young man with a heavy body. He had black hair that reached to his shoulders and small beard.
Connor managed to knock Biddle to the ground, but there he found a gun and aimed it at Connor. He took a shot and Connor jumped away, so the bullet hit a stack of barrels with gunpowder, causing an explosion. The fire reached high in the sky, and Altaïr, who was standing with the sailors, were all blown away. When Altaïr looked up again he didn't see the two fighting men anymore, but a gap on the first deck of the ship. He worried and got up to run over to the burnt down gap. Altaïr jumped down and saw that the two had continued their fight.
Altaïr grabbed his sword, that was still blood red from the men he had just slain. He threw himself into the fight, and it was obvious Biddle would be defeated soon.
"Brought your friend eh? Well that's not really fair!" He yelled, parrying Altaïr's sword.
Connor quickly brought his tomahawk forward and hit Biddle, who gave a swing with his sword right back at him.
"Mr. Kenway will award me greatly for ridding him of you." He said with a grin, only causing Connor to fight with more vigor.
It didn't take the two master assassins long to kill him, though Altaïr left the final blow for Connor. It was his target after all, he wouldn't steal his kill.
"Your reign over the Colonial Coast has come to an end." Connor said calmly when Biddle's body hit the ground. He began explaining why he was right, like every Templar target always does when he would die within a minute. Altaïr stood with his arms folded and just listened.
"You assassins are blind to the truth." The dying man managed to get out. Altaïr let his arms fall down and took a step forward to glare at him.
"Enough." Connor said, flicking out his hidden blade.
"Wait. Let the Randolph die with me. Don't take her as a prize. Please, please. I want no quarter, just to sink with my ship." Biddle pleaded, and to Altaïr's surprise Connor put his hidden blade back and walked away from the dying body.
"Are you mad? Why don't you kill him!?" Altaïr said turning around.
"It's his final wish to die with his ship. I can do nothing but grant that wish." Connor stopped and turned half around.
"He might escape, you fool! You wanted to take his life, and here it is. You can't be serious to just leave him!?" Altaïr said angry while flicking out his own hidden blade.
"No. Not every life is mine to take, Altaïr."
Altaïr shook his head and turned around to look down at the dying Biddle.
"Altaïr. Leave it."
With an angry glare Altaïr looked over his shoulder at Connor and then got to his knees to thrust his hidden blade in Biddle's chest, right in his heart. The man gasped, and then slowly closed his eyes. Altaïr looked down at the man before he was knocked off him and hit the ground. Connor sat on him with his knee painfully on Altaïr's chest, pinning down his arms.
"Why the hell did you do that!?" Connor shouted in anger.
"I did what you couldn't. Seriously, if you aren't even capable of killing this Templar, how will you ever kill their Leader? No, even better: your dad?!"
"This man had a last wish, to die in honour with his ship. Who am I to take it away from him?"
"Coward."
"Have you no honour? What is it they're dying for, do you really even know? You don't mind who you kill. You just kill everybody. You're heartless."
"I am an assassin. What do you expect? We are cold, we can't afford to care or love, it could kill us."
"Have you no backbone? Was every assassin in Syria like that?"
Altaïr didn't know what to say, were they…?
"Captain! The ship is about to sink! I would advise you to…." Connor looked over his shoulder and Altaïr could see from his lying position that Mr. Faulkner had entered the destroyed room they were in.
"Uhm… Excuse me, sir. I didn't know you were.. busy. But it would be wise to leave now, captain." Mr. Faulkner said, his cheeks began to turn red.
Connor quickly got up. "This isn't what it looks like, Mr Faulkner." He said, giving Altaïr an angry look. "We should go. We leave the Randolph behind."
"We will? She's a mighty vessel, captain!" Mr. Faulkner asked surprised.
Connor didn't answer him, but walked straight past him to the deck of the ship. Mr. Faulkner looked dumbfounded at Altaïr, who still laid on the ground.
"What was that all about?"
Altaïr got up and wiped the dust off his robes.
"Your captain has a serious aggression problem, Mr. Faulkner." Altaïr said before walking past the older man as well, leaving a confused Faulkner behind.
