The next day passed quickly. Men were bringing supplies aboard, so I mostly sat on railing near the wheel. Shay was busy shouting orders at men, and I had nothing more to do most of the day than continue to read The Odyssey. The clothing Shay'd paid for arrived halfway through the day, and I stopped myself from putting it on. I could wear the dress for the rest of the day. The other clothes would be just as clean and new tomorrow as they were today.
Shay said we'd be staying another night, and just like the two previous, men vanished into the darkness-this time with orders to be back before dawn. Shay and I spent time talking, once again, about my time and the things I'd done. I didn't think they sounded that spectacular, but Shay, evidently, did.
The next morning, we set sail. We kept a steady speed of what Shay said was 10 knots, which I learned meant 10 nautical miles per hour. I also learned that a nautical mile was slightly larger than a regular mile, as well as plenty of slang associated with ships. I was still out-of-place, but I wasn't as clueless as I had been.
The voyage was short, less than 48 hours, before we docked in a small town. Shay instructed a stand-in first-mate to keep the ship in order, and he and I left the town before the sun had risen. I was wearing the yellow waistcoat, brown pants, and brown overcoat-more for ease of travel than anything. The rest of my possessions-little though they seemed to me-had been bundled up in a large drawstring bag, along with some provisions. Shay left for a half hour, and came back with horses. He didn't say how he got ahold of them, and I didn't ask. I doubted he'd murdered someone for them, but I wouldn't be entirely surprised if they'd been stolen. To Shay's relief, I'd ridden horses a few times before, but he still needed to help me up on the large animal and give me some pointers.
We set off after he was certain I wouldn't be bucked off for somewhere further inland. We passed various farms and plantations, the latter often spotted with slaves harvesting and tending to crops. I still didn't like the sight, but after a couple of days on the road and nights in shady inns, it was becoming normal-that scared me, if I'm being honest.
By the time Shay directed us to a specific manor, my thighs were hurting from being on horseback for so long and we had gone through most of the food and drink we'd brought along.
We left our-borrowed?-steeds in the care of a stable hand, along with our belongings. He was eager to please, and a few "Master Shay"'s were dropped. I briefly wondered if I should be calling him that while we were here, but didn't ask. If I was supposed to, Shay would tell me.
I followed Shay to a pair of grand doors, peering at the lavish house. I felt even more out-of-place here. On the Morrigan, I'd been surrounded by men who didn't much care for all this finery, and who were more concerned with the freedom that being out at sea offered. Here, I would likely be around people of high status, who wore only the finest clothes, ate the finest foods, had the finest that and this and another thing. I stuck close to Shay; he was the least fancy thing about the place in my mind, and that suited me just fine.
We were let into the building by a solemn looking man. He welcomed Shay as though they'd met many times before, and directed him and I to a room. I didn't hear the specifics, as I was too busy gawking at the house around me. Finely decorated, with paintings hung on the walls, busts sitting on tables, and exquisitely carved trimming separated the walls from the ceiling and floor. Stairs curved upward, the railing as elegant as the trimming. The artist in me was in awe, and the minimalist in me was panicking. I looked down at the shiny, shiny floor, and allowed Shay to lead me through the house. Doorways as expensive-looking as the rest of the house were littered throughout, and I let out a small yelp when Shay finally opened one and pulled me through.
In front of us were at least two dozen people-mostly men-, all dressed in nice clothes, standing and talking amongst each other. A couple turned to look at us, nodding to Shay but merely taking perplexed looks at me. I swallowed hard. I could pick out at least half of them-all of which were Templars that had appeared in game. The rest were unfamiliar to me, but given their company, it was easy to conclude they were Templars as well.
I felt more nervous than I had in the empty halls-I wasn't sure if Shay entirely trusted me yet, regardless of anything he'd said or done, and I felt all of my muscles tensed. I was fully prepared to bolt at any second if I needed to.
I thought I was going to subconsciously pull a muscle when Shay laid a hand on my mid-back and started guiding me past people. Most ignored me, but some seemed curious as to why I was there, and one-Johnson-even smiled at me. I smiled back, thankful that at least I didn't seem necessarily unwelcome.
"Shay." I heard a deep, sharply accented voice say. "It's good to see you." A pause. "Who is this?"
Before us sat none other than Haytham Kenway, dressed in the attire I had seen a hundred times before, and asking who I was. A part of me was excited, the other was… well, scared. I'd read Forsaken, and even though it had shed a light on Haytham as a whole, it didn't change the fact that the man was getting more unstable and dangerous with age.
I prayed that I'd get on his good side.