It had barely been two months of being at home before her husband was leaving again. Enticed by the possibility of a lost legacy, hidden in the Bahamas by his pirate parents, Edward had set sail once more in the company of the Assassin Adéwalé and his close friend, the Scottish sailor, Iain Keith.
While Eleanor sat by the window, absentmindedly watching the wind tousle tree leaves and the branches bend in the breeze, her daughters were out, distracted from the empty place in their household. For their mother however, no distraction would suffice. Ever since the death of her brother, she had clung on more to her husband for support. She was an independent, strong woman, but that didn't stop her from feeling lonely.
"Oh, goodness," she muttered to herself, standing up from her seat by the window, "you're being ridiculous, Eleanor. What would Edward think of you wasting your day moping around?
To make herself busy, she started on the laundry that neither of her daughters had offered to help with. With a tub of soapy water, she began scrubbing the clothes that belonged to her and her daughters, trying to ignore the absence of her husband's clothes. Eleanor scrubbed furiously at the grass stains in Anne's skirt and as she held up the saturated, dripping wet article of clothing, she frowned.
"Now what in heaven's name has she done to get this?" She pondered aloud.
"What is that?" Antinanco asked, his head tilted to one side as Anne approached, holding the bow and arrow set she was given when she was younger by Adéwalé.
"You asked if I had a bow, I said I did, I brought it," she replied, waving it in the air as she sat beside him in their regular meeting place of the abandoned cave.
"That is not a bow," he scoffed as she passed it to him, "this is a toy."
Pouting, she snatched it back from him as he mockingly analysed it.
"Fine," she grumbled, "what do you suppose we use then?"
"We will use mine," Antinanco replied, grinning at her displeased expression.
She shrugged and placed the 'toy' beside her as Antinanco stood, shouldering his own weapon. With a grin, he offered her a hand and Anne's irritated expression faded into a grin of her own. They tracked any sort of animal in the area, something that Anne seemed to have some skill in already. With a huge effort of concentration, she managed to focus her sight into a vague blur where the animals tracks were illuminated in the disjointed colours. Shaking her head to rid herself of the growing headache, she pointed to the direction of the rabbit and Antinanco nodded, using his own instincts to follow the trail.
There it was, the small creature, sniffing and almost lazily jumping from one patch of grass to the other. Anne drew the bowstring back as Antinanco placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Both eyes open, let go when you breathe out."
The sound of the air escaping her lips was slight, fading into the soft breeze. The twang of the bowstring startled the rabbit but the pointed metal struck it's body before it could react.
Anne called out triumphantly, rushing forward to collect her prize. As she knelt by the creature, still warm, she muttered a quiet prayer, a mixture of the words she had learned from Antinanco, thanking the spirits for the animal and a message she had picked up from her mother, thanking God for His creation.
"Do you remember when you first saw a creature die here?" He asked, standing behind her as he offered her his knife. "You were so shocked. So innocent."
"I remember thinking it was absolutely barbaric," she gave a slight laugh.
"And now?"
"It's a necessity." She said, skinning the animal. "It's what we do to survive. We kill to eat, we kill to protect, either way, we kill something one day. It's better for it to be this than anything more..."
"More likely to have yourself killed in return?"
"Yes, I don't think I could kill a human being. Could you?"
"I do not know. I hope that never happens."
Anne lifted the skinned rabbit and put it in a bag, passing it to Antinanco for his village.
"My sister wants to be an Assassin and that means killing people." Anne said this with a neutral voice, displaying neither disgust nor admiration. "Do you think that makes her braver than me? Stronger than me?"
"Bravery and strength are not measured by whether you can take a life or not," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Bravery is measured by the recognition of fear and strength by overcoming it."
"Give me an example." Anne raised an eyebrow and the corner of her mouth rose into a slight smile.
"Fine," he sighed, "I... I can recognise a fear of what would happen if I did this."
Antinanco leaned forward and pressed a kiss on her lips, gently, compassionately and over too soon. Anne blushed the deepest shade of scarlet but couldn't help but grin.
"And my strength comes from doing it anyway." He concluded.
"I'm bored," Mary groaned, leaning back in her chair with the ledger open in front of her.
The dark haired woman turned her attention from picking her nails with a knife to the grumbling young girl. Victoria Smith was an English raised Assassin and a close friend to the Young family after being introduced through Edward's friend Iain. Mary's mother, the ever observant Eleanor, had noticed some kind of connection between the pair and had prompted Victoria to wish her friend goodbye by rushing up the gangplank and throwing her arms around him with a kiss for good measure. Iain had turned a deep shade of scarlet and the stunned man was ushered aboard by Edward much to the crew's amusement while the blushing form of Victoria sheepishly waved goodbye as the ship faded into the horizon.
"Need a break?" Victoria asked, folding up her knife and tucking it away. When Mary nodded, the Assassin followed up with, "c'mon then, let's do some training."
The two left the back door of the Davenport home for the large expanse of training grounds, decorated by dummies, weapon stands and targets.
"Here, try this on," Victoria untied her wrist blade and passed it to the wide-eyed young girl, hands grasping air as it was held before her.
Mary placed it over her left wrist and waved her arm, watching it loosely wobble around her arm. She frowned, scrunching her face into a displeased expression.
"Maybe we should get you one that fits you better," Victoria grinned at the sight. "Try the blade."
The girl rolled her wrist and splayed her hand, jolting as the blade sprung from the brace. Her face lit up in that familiar mischievous grin at the prospect of wreaking havoc. With a twist of her wrist, the blade retracted.
"Hey, Victoria!" She burst into a sprint, racing for the dummies. "Watch this!"
Mary skipped up onto a stack of crates beside the dummies and as she kicked off them, she held her arm in the air. The blade shot out and caught the sun. With a brief glint of light, she slammed down onto the dummy, piercing its chest with the blade as she pinned it to the ground.
"How was that?" Mary stood, dusting straw off her as she wiggled the wrist blade off her arm.
"Very good," Victoria clapped in support, "you've been practising with your father's spare blades, haven't you?"
Mary froze under the raised eyebrow and shrunk from the motherly hands on hips.
"Please don't tell my mama," she begged, "she'd be so furious!"
"I won't, as long as you promise to keep your Assassin training here and here alone, yes?"
"I promise," Mary nodded meekly and passed the blade back.
"Victoria? Mary?"
The two turned to see Achilles brandishing an opened letter, approaching them.
"Yes, sir?" Victoria addressed her mentor. "Anything I can help with?"
"No, it's a letter from a naval contact," Achilles explained, passing the letter to the Assassin, "he tells me he has reached the Bahamas and is returning with Adéwalé, Mister Keither and your father, Mary."
"Papa's coming home!" Mary shrieked, clapping her hands.
"This is excellent news," Victoria smiled as she scanned the letter from a certain Captain Marshal Garrett. When she caught sight of the name, her eyes narrowed in recognition and her smile vanished.
"Sir, excuse me, but what is the meaning of hiring Captain Garrett as a messenger? Are you not aware of the part he played in the battle of the Storm Fortress?" She said with an aggressive tone, only trimmed with polite formalities.
"Miss Smith, this is a conversation for another time, I believe. I can assure you, the crew are in good hands with Captain Garrett."
Displeased with his reply, Victoria adopted a rather sour expression before passing the letter back to him. "When are they expected home?" She asked, changing the subject.
"Within a matter of days," Achilles informed her, but did not share the same smile that the young girl expressed at the thought of her returning father.
"Any reason for this?" Victoria continued her inquisition.
"I will have to discuss that with you later," he said, briefly glancing in the direction of Mary. "I must attend other business, good day."
"Thank you, good day, Mentor," Victoria returned the formal nod as Mary began to grumble. "When adults can't discuss things in front of me, it's bad," she crossed her arms and glowered, "if Papa's in trouble, I should know."
"I'm sure you would be told if he was," Victoria assured her. "I'm certain Adé and Iain are taking good care of him, there's nothing for you to worry about."
At the mention of Iain, the young girl dropped her thundery expression in favour of a sly grin.
"So are you excited for Iain Keith to come home?" Mary asked, her words elongated in a sing-song tone.
"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" She scoffed. "He's a very dear friend to me."
"A very dear friend..." She trailed off.
When Victoria failed to realise what the girl was insinuating, Mary brought out the big guns.
"How do you think this sounds?" She inquired. "Victoria Keith..."
"Excuse me?" She spun, eyes wide as colour rose to her porcelain cheeks. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me," Mary giggled. "You fancy Mister Keith, don't you?"
"Well, I- ah, the thing is that- uh... Well, um..." Victoria stammered, unable to make an excuse.
"Oh, you do! You do, you do, you do!" She shrilled, jumping around, swinging her arms in mischievous delight.
"Hush! Hush now!" Victoria attempted to silence the girl by just motioning for her to be quiet but the effort was in vain. Finding a mischievous smile of her own, the dark haired woman leapt upon the girl, tackling her to the ground as she set upon her with slender fingers, finding each and every ticklish spot.
"Stop! Stop!" Mary shrieked between laughter and gasps for breaths.
"Will you stop teasing me about Mister Keith?"
"I will! I will!"
Victoria released her hold and helped the panting girl up, still breathless from laughing and begging for escape.
"Now," the woman grinned at the girl, brushing down her clothes from collecting bits of grass and dirt, "let's get you home so you can tell your mother and sister the good news."
Mary nodded and arm in arm, the two made their way for the Young household in Lexington. Victoria knew as well as Mary that Achilles withholding information for 'a better time' would only mean something terrible. From telling the young girl not to worry, the woman took all the worry on herself and feared for the child's father as well as her dear friend with him.
Iain had told her of the distressing battle of the Storm Fortress, shortly after she had met him and heard of their adversaries.
The sailor recalled one of the lead attacking ship bore a half man, half bull figure head. With the woman's help, the seaman discovered there was a captured French built second rate man'o'war in the Royal navy called the Minotaur commanded by a man named Marshal Garrett. The same Marshal Garrett that was working for Achilles and presently with her friends.
She didn't trust him and grew anxious as her mind conjured terrible scenarios of the captain turning on the crew he was supposed to be escorting home, slaughtering both Edward and Iain.
But why did Achilles request they return home now? What was out there that could put them in such danger? Whatever the matter was, Victoria hoped they were strong enough to stop it.
And if they weren't strong enough? Well, the Assassin didn't want to think about it.