Bad Blood


The days following the massacre in Boston the rope that was holding back the tension was becoming weak. English soldiers guarding their post were weary of its citizens-for-not in fear of revolt from people who were not soldiers themselves, but something was (something felt) strange in the air. Its citizens may have been broken thinking the red coats have finally gotten the respect they deserved after showing that the people were weak against an army and their king. It was as if he were walking in a town that was filled with ghosts in despair. Even in the hearts of some of the 'freedom fighters'-as he named them- wanted to rise against the oppression. 'In due time', they say, 'in due time'.

Reaching the front doors of the Green Dragon he entered inside with eyes looking to his general direction. This tavern was known for many things, other than the gambling and the whoring, it was known to only a few to be the meeting place for the Order of the Knights Templar.

Musicians continued onward with their music, men continued to drink and gamble away their hard earned coins (if many were honest to make a decent living), and servers made do with what they had. It was as if they knew that mysterious men would conjure upstairs, talking in whispers as the flames of the candles flicker with their breath. No one knew who they were or what it was that they did, but for the owner could not care for what these men did.

Nothing but regulars. He would always say.

With no one to be of a bother or of any interest he headed towards and ascended the stairs as the livelihood began to soften without much care other than a man's next pitch of ale. Expecting to see his comrades in deep conversation around the table where they had many meetings about the findings of the key or this fascination of the coming war, the Templar was at the last steps-without so much as a facial expression- came across a man sitting casually drinking his ale in calm listening to his surroundings closely.

"Dead men wonder when their chance will come to walk among the living, aye, Haytham?" He said, lips no longer drinking. "Growing older yet, still so dangerous as if we have not changed with that time, Hn."

The man placed his mug of ale on the table feeling somewhat satisfied with his fill. He noticed that he was not alone on the second story of the building for his one dead eye took noticed of this familiar authority. With a turn of his head the flickering of the candle moved almost burning out. Haytham stood just a few feet from the table knowing well that this man was the last man he would want to see. All in good modesty-if one could say- the Templar walked towards an empty chair across from the pirate who kept his eye sharp in a caution manner.

"I know that look. I have seen it many atime before. You were not expecting me to be here or anywhere for that matter." Gray eye stated simply taking off his hat and placing it beside him on an empty chair.

Haytham spoke no words as he placed his arms on the table; keeping his eyes on the older pirate before him. If there were many things the Templar disliked (hate was such a strong word for Haytham) it would have to be pirates. They were dying off slowly not quickly enough much for his taste, but they were somewhat loyal to the causes of Templar's. Unlike Gray eye who could chew through his rope around his neck. The old sea dog was not so much easy to handle. He acted upon his own needs and not by the word of others. A true pirate: much to Haytham's annoyance.

"What do I owe this un-Godly pleasure to be under the same roof as you?" Haytham spoke with a cold and utter distaste in his mouth.

Gray eye did not flinch nor did he act out for the Templar clearly showed disrespect to the pirate. It was not like to do such a thing. The older pirate had too much calmness, too much patience to feel the need to act in such a violent/hateful manner. No matter, closing his eye lid over the dead gray eye, he leaned in clasping his hands together.

"Such words may have sent you over board if you were upon my ship, lad." He warned. "You may think that you have the upper hand with that blade." Gray eye quickly placed his hand on Haytham's blade arm. With enough force it would have been triggered but the older pirate was no fool. It was the wielder who could perform such a task. "But even I cannot be so much careless when it comes to you."

Haytham had a ghost of smile to Gray eye's observation. The pirate knew of his hidden blade, but what the older man did not know was that Haytham had an assassin's lineage. He kept it hidden not allowing that part of his life come to light. The only person to know of such a thing was Haytham's sister, but that was another matter. The hidden blade was his tool which he knew how to use. Gray eye could not find out about it for if he did, the pirate would question.

"Why am I here if you are going to be hostile?" Haytham asked.

"Hostile does not even cut it." Gray eye took back his hand and once more clasping his hands together in mere thought. Without even knowing, Haytham's blood circulated back through his arm. The pirate looked away from the man sitting in front of him. Looking down to his pack that was before his feet, Gray eye moved back his chair making a skidding noise that was not so loud. Haytham wanted to look over the table in curiosity, but that childish side of him has been dead for so long.

He was rummaging through his pack looking for it. Once it was found, he looked up throwing this object on the table causing Haytham to sit straight in his chair. Hands upon his lap with eyes looking at this brace that was similar to his own, yet there was a different quality to it. It was broken and cracked in many places where as the blade was still as sharp but it was broken at the end where it would have been in the brace to trigger.

"Where…" Haytham spoke but could not muster the words that were sitting on his tongue.

"There is more to the reason of you being here than this blade." Gray eye looked to the weapon on the table. "He thought that he could gain back what was lost. As I hired former crew members who were loyal to me, I searched for my ship in the coldest of places."

Haytham sat forwards once more knowing that this was going to be a long explanation, but any information was information none-the-less. This had nothing to do with finding the key. Pirate business was not much concern to the Templar or to any of the other Templar's. Still, there was something more to this.

"Searching the coldest of climates for many years, I found the mole within my fleet. Campbell hid well knowing the tactics used for blending in without my knowledge. Intelligent bastard even used Salty Bones to conjure my men to munity against me." He took a sip of his ale and placed it back on the table. "It was of no wonder he and Salty Bones took their rise against me."

"How did you know Campbell was that mole?" Haytham asked.

Gray eye would have smiled but he kept his face calm. Self-assured that one flinch or even a twitch would give away more than just words which the Templar did not want. Haytham was curious (he will admit) no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

"It was only speculation when I noticed another member to my search. My old memory deludes me at times but when I noticed carrier birds coming to and fro, he knew I was on to him. The moment I had my back turned I heard that sound of the blade. I have had my fair share of fighting assassin's. They are a formidable foe. When I placed Campbell's blade in his side, he spoke to me through his bloody gurgles. Confessing his sins to me in his need like the dying dog he was. One assassin aside, I am more than certain Salty has connections with them. Both were close. Both were intelligent. Never would I have known that assassins were amongst my own crew."

"What do I have to do with any of this? Your business is your own…"

Gray eye placed up his hand to silence Haytham. The Templar was too impatient with being… nice. Enough with putting up with old pirate's tales even though they were of some importance, Haytham had other importance to attend too.

"I understand you want to find the key." This stopped Haytham quickly to a point he wanted to growl like some savage dog. "We pirates are not some stupid creatures you take from the sea so you can wrap them in your short leashes. Campbell was sending letters to someone who knew of your expeditions. Before he died he told me about some native boy in training. He would be your downfall from all I could get out of that traitor."

"I see."

Gray eye sat back in his chair. His one eye staring intently at the Templar before him; watching and waiting to see if he could understand what they were going to go up against.

"Do you truly see, Haytham? I know what is happening around me, but that is for your matter not mine. My fight and your fight will come to cross again. Until that time, I will be on the search for Salty. I hear he is still within New York."

Gray eye had no business with the search for the key. He had another agenda that needed to be taken care of. Campbell was dead, now it was Salty's long overdue with his meeting with Davy Jones. His par-take in the mutiny that overthrew Gray eye as captain was still fresh in his mind. Acting out on revenge was too settle; too quick for it would be over within a second. Gray eye was calculating, waiting for that right moment to play with the minds of his enemy. Still, there was something that needed to be waited upon. The war…


We were at our destination with the sun still shinning down upon us. Our ride was consumed with nothing more than silence. It was a calm silence that I have gotten used to in such a short time. The conversation that bestowed upon Connor and I the day before was like an open wound. It cut deep down waiting for it to be infected. Such nasty slashes could leave negative opinions. I could remember this morning's early light reaching down through the naked trees clearly thinking of what was exchanged. We did not speak of what was said, but it was clearly lingering over our shoulders waiting for it to pass. Leaving it as such I did not push it further.

'No use in trying to further break a wall.'

I stretched out my sore muscles hearing the pops of my bones. My scarf exposed my face to the chill air as my hair was held back by a tie I made with some strands falling loosely in my face. My hat was in one hand until I felt the need to place it back on. My horses' ears twitched in annoyance, hearing the door to the house open and then close quickly. Connor has left me outside only stating that he had to deal with theissues that happened in Boston with Achilles. Clearly, there was something more to this. There always is. I was still a stranger in Connor's eyes-one who is slowly gaining his trust- it was after all, the best for him to attend to his own matters without much of my intrusion.

Grabbing the reigns of my horse, I pulled the animal close to me as I placed my hand on the bridge of his nose. My mind soon turned away from reality and was now admiring the beauty of the vast trees that surrounded me. I was observing my new surroundings in mere silence. The cold breeze blew in that familiar scent of the salty sea and I knew that she was near. That peace always deluded me in these times. I had doubt. I was feeling far from home. Father left me to pursue his own means. Was it truly only fate that could only lead me here to this magnificent place.

How could such a place go unmolested? Nature still claims her lands. This home that is before me was rundown needing repair. It was old by the looks of it. All around us there were many trees making the illusion that no one lived here. Even with the few run down-what seemed like-buildings. It was as if I was in a dream. Someone does live here. New places will not always be so crowded. Reality can take many forms when I realized that I was not dreaming.

Leading my horse to the stables he began to move forwards towards a barrel of hay. He was hungry from the day's long journey. I understood my horse for I felt the need to eat as well. The stable man took this opportunity to take care of my animal and with my steed taken cared of I took my pack, placing it over my shoulder, and continued on back to the front of the home, waiting for Connor to come out. Until I heard,

"Hey! Heeeeeelp!"

I stopped right in my tracks on the steps leading to up. I heard what was I suppose was knocking on glass and the sound of heavy breathing. Curious as to this random event, I began to head in the direction of the call.

"Sir?" I asked startling a man whom I come across.

"Please help." He asked rather quickly through shaky intake of breath. Observing quickly I saw that this man had red tinted cheeks. It may be due to running at such a fast pace leaving him breathless as I could see him clutching at his chest wanting air. There was a sense of urgency as I walked forwards causing him to be startled once more with the sound of my boot crutching against the ground.

Taking notice of his immediate action, I placed one hand up and placed my pack on the ground in surrender. I walked forwards towards him with no indication of me hurting or causing him any harm. I had to be sure that he saw me as an ally not as an enemy. In case something was to happen I had my dagger in its sheath on my belt. Placing one foot in front of the other the man kept weary of me. Our eyes were locked for a fraction of a second before both of us could speak. Hearing the sound of a door opening I assumed it was Connor who was going to be the first to address to the situation. This gave the man an opportunity to rush past me as I was lost in mere thought. Sighing heavily in annoyance and with hunger growing in my belly I went to grab my belongings and rounded the corner of the home.

"Do not think that you will go unnoticed if you chase after those two. Leave it be, child." A voice said.

There stood a man with a walking stick in the doorway looking sternly at me. He was an elder who may have seen many days. His stare had me frozen to the ground when he took his first steps towards me. He was very… intimidating despite his age. I have seen men who held his same gaze, but it does not mean that I was trembling under my own skin.

"I do not suppose Connor has spoken a word to you about who he truly is or what it is that he is doing."

I raised a brow to his words. They seemed blunt and straight to the point. Clearly there was something that I was not being told for I did not answer the question. How aggravating fate can be when I was not being told the answers. Always do I have to figure out the answers or find a way to understand what is being given to me?

"I do not suppose he has for I am lost in the dark." It was more of an answer I could conjure in my racing mind.

There was a disproving scowl on the man's lips. Mumbling under his breath once more his stare was keeping me frozen in place. Elder people were always so observant and scrutinized every fine detail of one's own flaws. Though, not all elders were as cynical in appearance as this man seemed to be. He turned his back to me walking back inside. I was not sure if I should follow behind but I did so without a second thought. This man knew something that Connor was not going to tell me.

Despite my own efforts to understand this new found freedom that was granted to me by my father, I still felt lost. Upon entering the manor it was vast and open. Big enough for an entire family with children yet, this place was almost as empty. Following the older man after closing the door behind me into a large room with a fireplace he took a seat on a stool staring into the dancing flame.

"Do you know anything about these past few days?"

I was almost startled by the low voice that was not so threatening or demanding as just moments before. Taking off my hat and lowering down my scarf I also placed my pack with my belongings at the entrance into the room.

"I do not understand what it is that you ask of me."

There was a sudden shift in the older man's position.

"Do you know anything about your father?"

"I do not understand what it is that you want me to know. What does the mention of my father have to do with anything?" I asked.

Taking his eyes away from the fire, the older man stood on his feet once more. I kept my breath low and steady. If I was to get answers it was best to be calm. I may look like my father, I may have his blood running through my veins, but I was not going to be like him. Despite it all I wanted the answers. I need to see the light at the end of this darkness.

"He was here just some days ago before your arrival. I was aware at that time that you will be arriving after your father has left this premise. Samuel Adams informed me through a letter. Back to the matter at hand, child, are you aware of what you know about your father?" He pressed.

Uncertainty was etched on my face. I was not sure where to start or what it was that he wanted to know. He may already know about my father being a pirate. I do not know how he could have found out about sensitive information that was buried. I did not trust him, but if I was going to get the answers I needed I had to walk the tight rope.

"My father's name is Salty Bones but he goes by the name of Eloy. Once a pirate that sailed the seas many years ago, he became the captain of Ghost of Davy Jones after Gray eye was… I do not know what has happened for my father tore out the detail along with another detail of this massacre. After that he wanted to start a new life with my mother in New York. He became a carpenter and I was born. I was almost killed by a red coat when I was just a child running in the streets. He trained me with knowledge of the sea, speaking in his native Spanish, and he has now left me to my own devices. Is this truly necessary?" I stated.

"What do you know of Gray eye?" He questioned.

"He was my father's mentor/captain that made him into a pirate in his early years. As a child I ran into him and a man named Haytham. It has been years since I last saw either man. Father once stated that he thought Gray eye was dead but I confirmed it that he was not." I raised a brow with speculation. This older man was trying to get something out of me as if to figure out this riddle. Father was here and knowing him, he did most things in riddles. Then something broke through the cracks.

"My father knew, didn't he?"

There were still missing pieces of information that I did not know. Perusing what I did know I looked to the older man with an emotionless expression. Explaining things out loud to a man that I did not know, but somehow father knew… Damn.

"Leave your father to peruse after Gray eye, child. Do not be so foolish to go and find your father, knowing well that he left you on your own. He asked me to let you stay under this roof to keep you from searching for him. Your father knows that Gray eye is as dangerous as any deadly snake. If his word is true that you listen like a soldier, he wanted you to stay here. I know about what your strength and weaknesses they would be of use."

Damn. Father gave me an order and I have to oblige to that. Not realizing that my hands have balled to fists, I could feel my nails dig into my skin. This was another one of his missions. Only this time, I was left on my own to deal with something far beyond my personal experience.

"I may be my father's tool, but I also have a free will despite my own sex. What is it that I am useful for?" I sneered, tired of being left to drown in the deepest of the ocean.

"Calm yourself, child. You are much like your father other than looking like him. You even act out of your own frustrations." He spat. "Like father, like daughter."

I could have lashed out but I refrained from being an example of my father. This was not how I wanted to find out. I felt as if I was being dragged into a corner where I could not move as the world in front of me grew bigger and harsher. Swallowing my selfish pride I placed my tail in-between my legs. I had to accept my fate no matter where it was leading me. I had to listen to her before I ended up hurting people I love.

"If I am to be useful, I need to know who I am getting involved with." I said with defeat.

"There will be a time where you will have to do something that I am aware you have never done. You will have to kill in order to get information. What we do, many have not lived or were granted such access. As a pirate's daughter you will have to be vigilante. You will have to train harder than what your father has put you through. We just only scratched the surface of what is to come." There was a cold chill that ran down my spine as he spoke.

With new understanding of my role I was going to have to leave my father be. Meaning I was going to let him peruse Gray eye on his own without so much of my help. It was for the best that I was not in my father's way and now I understood why he left me-so I thought.

"Will I begin to truly understand as time goes by?" I asked with uncertainty.

"I am not to expect you to fully understand, but as the time does pass I hope you place the pieces together. No one is certain of what is to truly happen."


I stepped inside of the room I was to stay in for the time being. Looking around at my new home there was nothing more than a bed big enough for two people to share. There was a drawer that has seen better days with wood chip off at the sides near a curtain less window. My new room was almost empty and I prayed deeply if I could find a wash room. If I was going to stay underneath this roof, I was going to have to listen to what that old man said. On my own now felt as if the God's of the sea were very generous to me. Placing my belongings on the bed I began to take off my knee length coat that was weathered. The colors that were once bright were now faded away into a gray dull. With it in my arms it was just another reminder of home.

No longer was I going to wait on my mother to make my baths. No longer was I going to wait on her fresh meals that filled my stomach. We left her on her own. Father and I left my mother back in New York. I wonder if she felt as if we abandoned her. I placed my coat on the bed and reached for the necklace around my neck. Twirling around the metal that was shaped of a cross with the colors of my father's flag, I wanted to take it off. This piece of metal was important to me in every way because I had pirate blood in me. Who am I?

I was stuck between being Seliah the daughter of Salty Bones, but at the same time I felt like I was someone else. Disguising myself as a mere boy was just another part of me. Caught in this web I was beginning to unravel. Was what I was doing going to make it right? I was here in this manor with two people that were still strangers to me and I was the same to them. Clenching the necklace with my hand I let it go as I sighed deeply.

Who am I?

Within this time I was not sure. Would it all have changed if I never knew about my father? Maybe I would still be running in the streets with my orphan friends causing havoc amongst the English soldier's, until I grew into a woman ready for marriage. I scowled at that thought. No man would want me. I am not what they seek. I am no full figured woman like my mother. I did not have what she had for a proper wife for a middle-classed man. Her beauty, her child bearing hips, any form of beauty in a woman I just simply did not have.

I am still too young to think such thoughts for I was still just a child in this world. My time will come when I will have developed something that dignifies me as a woman. Once more with a deep sigh I had to think of what is to come for my new life. I could not think with these childish thoughts of my beauty-or lack-there-of- or figuring out who I truly am. What was said to me I had to keep firm. I could not let my own guard down. I will grow to understand, hopefully. Somehow, I could not help but feel this sense of dread that befallen upon me.

Blood…

So much blood…