It was cold out on the porch so Nathan sat on the front step cloaked by a heavy coat his aunt had made him wear as Astra slept beside him, her head resting on his lap. Since Connor had disappeared in Boston, Nathan had kept an anxious vigil, looking out for him.
Then, Astra's head snapped up as her ears pointed alert and her nose wiggled, sniffing the icy air. She began barking and suddenly bolted from the porch and down the hill to the road as the recognisable figure appeared around the corner.
"Connor!" Nathan yelled as he scrambled to his feet and rushed to greet him. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he smiled as the young boy threw his arms around him. "A man named Samuel Adams helped me get out of Boston."
"Achilles said he sent someone," Nathan said.
"At least he did something right," he grumbled and began to march up the hill towards the house.
Astra waited at the door as Nathan followed him, jolting as Connor shoved the front door open and stormed into the house, his feet heavy.
"Welcome back!" Achilles greeted Connor as he entered the room.
"You left me in Boston," he growled in response.
"The training we've done is all well and good, but experience is a better teacher by far."
"What of my father?" Connor demanded.
"Into the wind, I'm afraid," came the sighing reply.
"We have to find him!"
"And we will... After the house has been repaired."
"But he's out there plotting who knows what!" Connor gestured outside, well aware his father could be oceans away or in the next town over.
"And what would you do when you found him?" Achilles lifted his head back, an eyebrow raised. "If you found him? You're a boy with a few months of training. He's a man full grown who's spent decades honing his skills. If you're going to stand a chance against the Templars, you're going to need these."
Connor, who was pacing the room, stopped and turned towards a box beside Achilles. Nathan had been leaning against the wall but stepped forward when he saw Achilles reach for the box, curious as to what was inside. He passed it to Connor and the boy's hand brushed over the lid, emblazoned with the symbol of the Assassins. He opened the box and his eyes widened as he saw the contents.
"Go on." Achilles waved a hand. "Before I change my mind."
Connor rested the box on the floor and removed the cuffs, strapping them to his wrists.
"What is it?" Nathan asked.
Connor turned and showed them to his friend. Retractable blades aligned along his forearm, ready to spring out at a moment's notice.
Suddenly, there was a knocking at the window, causing all three to turn towards the source.
"Hey!" Called a man, pounding on the window. "Help!"
Connor glanced to Achilles who ushered him on and needing no further encouragements, he bolted for the door to help the man in distress.
"Should I go with him?" Nathan asked.
"No," Achilles shook his head, "let's leave this one to Connor. I'm sure there'll be plenty of opportunities to help those in need in the future."
The old man patted him on the shoulder and hobbled off into the other room, leaving Nathan alone. The young boy glanced out of the window in an attempt to see the man and Connor but the mass of trees obscured his vision.
"Achilles!" He turned and caught up with the old man who stopped, turning his head. "What happened in Boston, what will that mean for us, for the future?"
"Only time will tell," he sighed. "But I can tell you this, trouble is on its way."
"Trouble? What kind of trouble?"
"The colonies are tense, there is change ahead. As the crown tries to assert its power, the people resist."
"That's good isn't it?"
"It is better to rebel than live in submission, if given the chance," Achilles nodded. "But do not believe for one second that it will be easy. Do not imagine that this will be resolved by a conversation over dinner."
"So you're saying there could be war?"
Achilles took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He tightened his grip on his walking stick and turned again.
"I'm not saying there could be, Nathan," his voice was dark as he addressed him over his shoulder. "I'm saying there will be."