Months passed, my training and studying was limited to the indoors at first due to worsening weather. I spent my free time-what little I managed to find-either with Grace, reading, or drawing. While I still didn't very well trust Haytham, I'd come to like having him around. He wasn't always as accommodating for my various smart-ass remarks as Shay had been, and sometimes he was a bit prickly. That said, the banter between us was amusing, and we had grown more relaxed around each other by the time May 1773 rolled around.
I was growing more proficient with a sword, and was training to use daggers as well. Haytham had said it would be important in the upcoming months that I be able to defend myself if needed. I disliked the idea of fighting Connor, but I knew that if he tried to kill me for helping the Templars, I'd have to be able to do something.
Haytham had acquired a bow and quiver for me, along with several arrows, and I practiced archery on my own-Haytham had proven to not be quite as good at it as he'd first thought. Picking up fire-arms was simple enough, having had experience with more advanced forms in my time. America and it's love of guns had helped me there. The reloading was an issue, and I disliked the complicatedness of it, but I learned to deal with it over time. I still preferred archery.
Haytham wouldn't allow me to carry any of those weapons, but he had returned my pocket knives halfway through March. In addition, I had more freedom to wander on days when Haytham or Etienne were not available. On such days, I had a comfortable five-or ten, if they were both absent-hours during which I could do anything I wished, and I often spent it exploring the world outside the mansion I'd grown so used to. I'd sometimes take a small, empty book with me to sketch plants or tracks in, and later look them up in the books in the study.
Other times, I'd free-run. The large house had left little room for practicing, and the forests nearby were filled with old, sturdy trees. I fell more than once, and was fussed over by Grace and Etienne both, but I'd gotten lucky by not breaking a bone. My pallor darkened only slightly, and even then only after I suffered sunburns.
Today, 27 May, was one of those days. I was jumping from branch to branch, concentrating whole-heartedly on not slipping. When I dropped to the ground, I let out a relieved sigh. I hadn't messed up at all today, and I was glad for it. I stayed low to the ground when I heard the sound of hooves.
"Courtney!" It was Haytham. He'd been gone the past few days. I stood up and waved to reveal my location. He dismounted and approached me, peering at the forest around us.
"I didn't think you'd be back today." I said.
He gave me a sardonic grin. "Sorry to disappoint you. I came to let you know we'll be traveling to Boston in three days."
I blinked. "Three days? Why?"
"You said that our Assassin will begin disrupting our operations in November. I want us to be there to stop him before he begins."
I cast my eyes to the ground; I hadn't yet told Haytham that the Assassin he spoke of was none other than his son. I sighed and looked back at him. "Haytham, there's something you need to know before all of this happens…"
His eyes narrowed. He nodded.
I wondered whether to use tact or not, and decided to go my favored route of simply being blunt. "This Assassin, the one we're going to be having problems with, he's your son." He stared at me for a moment, face unreadable.
"My son?" I nodded. He looked away from me briefly, then back to me. He cleared his throat. "If he gets in our way, he will be treated the same as any other Assassin." I swallowed and nodded. I really didn't want to fight Connor. If I could keep him from causing the issues, however… Distract him, keep him from getting too close to sabotaging the order's plans, I might not have to worry about him being killed.
I mounted the horse behind Haytham, and we returned to the mansion in silence.
That night, as I lied in bed, I tried to remember everything I could about this part of the game. The best strategies, what full-synchronization entailed, how I'd done it, what the most realistic way of doing it would be. I knew that if it came down to a fight, the best I'd be able to do against Connor right now was defend myself. Haytham had been teaching me more than just "self-defense", but Connor had brute force, and more training. I'd have to get familiar with the area, formulate a plan, a back-up plan, an emergency escape route, find allies who'd help me without question-a number of Templars could help me there, I knew-, ask Johnson about the specifics regarding the tea.
If I failed, it's possible that either the events of the game would unfold, or Connor would be killed. But Haytham… Haytham hadn't been able to kill Connor-emotionally, he hadn't been able to bring himself to kill his own son or watch him die. He hadn't been able to do so three separate times-why would that change now?
But I knew I couldn't rely on that. Haytham might not kill him, but another Templar may. They didn't have the same reservations, because he wasn't their son. He was just another Assassin. He was an enemy to all Templars by virtue of that.
I wondered if I was considered a Templar at this point, or at least associated with them closely enough to be lumped in with them. I guess the latter held true at this point. Would Connor hate me upon finding that out about me? It's not like I'd intended for this to happen, it just… had. I wanted peace between the Templars and the Assassins, and Haytham and Connor were still here. A father and son, two people who had the potential for a bond, but needed a little… push.
I had a million things on my mind as I drifted off to sleep.