Chapter 11: The Politician
It was daybreak when Kira finally arrived at the manor. Though it had been dark when she had set off, sunlight now breached the crevices of the vivid canopy above, and the forest teemed with the tune of early morning birdsong. It would have been beautiful, had it not been such a flagrant symbol of just how long she had spent trudging through undergrowth and along countless damp woodland paths. The charm of it had twisted into a bitter reminder; she'd trade all of it in a heartbeat for just a few hours in bed.
That is what she had been telling herself, at least, until the manor came into sight.
For all her complaints, she'd taken her time in getting back. Undoubtedly Connor and her mentor would be there, anticipating her safe return and eager to hear of what had occurred since Connor had last left her. They would be relieved, mostly- she assured herself. But for how long?
Once that relief had subsided they would certainly have questions. She'd have to explain her escape. Justify the relative ease of it. 'The Templars were feeling particularly merciful today' just didn't have an ounce of credibility. The story would have to be believable. What reasons could the Templars have for letting her leave unscathed? She examined herself with a mournful sigh. This was new; she'd never lamented being unscathed before.
Trapped at the edge of the forest by the knowledge that she was utterly unprepared, Kira slumped to the ground, buying herself some much-needed space and time. She sat at the foot of a tree, settling back against the trunk and resenting the way the rough surface was uncomfortable, despite the plush comfort of her robes. Her head fell back against it dejectedly, and she sighed again.
The canopy above her danced slowly at the touch of the breeze as she set about crafting another lie.
…
"Connor." Kira's voice broke the morning quiet as she approached a clearing where several training dummies stood, one presently being split down the middle by her friend's hidden blade. His head snapped towards her- blade still lodged in the dummy's midriff.
"Kira?" In one sharp movement he had withdrawn his weapon; guilt was already beginning to mar the planes of his face. "Are you alright? I am sorry for what happened. I should have stayed, I could have-"
"I'm fine," she assured with a smile, placing a hand forgivingly on his shoulder as she reached him. "And you did what I asked- I am grateful for that."
More grateful than he could ever know, and she was more than happy to disparage his worries in return. Connor smiled back apprehensively, as though anticipating more of a scolding.
"Now," Kira said, far too preoccupied with the one inevitably still awaiting her. "Where is Achilles? I'd better speak with him."
"In the study, dealing with his correspondence."
"Good," Kira murmured distractedly, mulling over the words as though she were trying a new wine and appraising the taste. Her eyes narrowed. Achilles was never to be found in a particularly good mood when he was attending such matters.
"He will be happy you have returned," Connor weighed in on her thoughts with a smirk.
Her gaze moved from where sand was spilling out of the training dummy- frown morphing into a grin as she looked back at the young Assassin. "Well yes, naturally." She shrugged. "On the other hand, if he kills me-" she gestured to the dummy with a nod of her head- "it looks as though you can take care of yourself. You'll remember me, won't you? Tell tales of my valour?"
Connor laughed quietly. "Of course."
Leaving him to his training, Kira made her way indoors with a constricting feeling of dread. 'Valour' had been a funny way to describe the gingerly steps she took- each slowed by design to stretch the short journey to Achilles' study. It wasn't her first time walking the corridors of the manor with such listlessness, and it wasn't likely to be her last. She always did have a penchant for getting into trouble.
She reflected on a litany of incidents- those of more recent years, and those of almost a lifetime ago. She thought about Shay: once a veritable catalyst for what Achilles had always described as some of her more disruptive habits. It was difficult not to smile at the memory.
Revived by the notion that she had survived worse than whatever she was about to endure, Kira reached Achilles' door and pushed through with a short knock.
The man was sat at his desk and surrounded by letters- one of which he was in the process of opening. He looked up upon hearing her entry and smiled in welcome.
"Kira, I am glad to see you are alive and well. From what Connor told me, I had reason to fear the worst."
Kira dropped into a chair across from him with a smile. "Losing faith in me, Achilles?"
Her mentor chuckled, setting the letter down and relaxing back into his own chair. "Even my faith has its limitations."
She tutted reproachfully- a woman betrayed. "Regardless of that, I am pleased to report that the mission was a resounding success."
"Is that so?"
"Yes," Kira leant forwards, engaged. "If Haytham uses our little performance to gauge the threat we pose, it is safe to say he shall be underestimating us for a while. I have bought us some time free of his scrutiny- you're welcome, by the way- and that was, of course, my plan all along."
Achilles had watched Kira clutch at straws before; this was one of her more entertaining efforts.
"That is something," he concurred with an amused smile. "Masterfully done."
"Thank you."
"So masterfully done- in fact- that you should have no trouble at all with the next task I have for you."
That was unexpected. Kira straightened with respect the conversation suddenly seemed to warrant, unease tingling her senses. She had been prepared for a debrief- and with the lingering questions so surely on Achilles' mind- even an interrogation. "What is it?" she pressed, deciding to leap at the opportunity to avoid this if she could.
Achilles reached into a drawer and withdrew a piece of paper. He studied it for a few moments before holding it out to her. "This man- Benjamin Fletcher- have you heard of him?"
She took it, and considered the picture of the man sketched onto it; it wasn't familiar. "I can't say I have."
"He is a politician. Harmless enough, until he began lending his considerable influence to our enemies. His resources have proved a boon for the Templars, and I rather think it time we cut off their supply- if you know what I mean."
"I know what you mean. Where can I find him?"
Another piece of paper was pulled from the drawer and offered to her. "Here. In four days, he is holding a ball to celebrate his arrival from successful business in Europe. This invite should provide you sufficient opportunity to get the job done."
Kira glanced over the invite with an agreeable nod. "A ball? Exciting." She received a sharp look from Achilles. "And by that I mean, an exciting chance to cripple our enemies for the sake of liberty, of course."
He smiled. "Better."
She stood with a stretch, already thinking of ways to go about the assassination. She would need information on the layout of the building, its surroundings, and her target himself. A solid strategy, and a few backup strategies, since life was rarely so obliging as to accommodate the first.
Already her spirits were lifting with the distraction of this new venture. She glanced at Achilles hesitantly. "Will Connor be assisting me with this?"
"No. His time is better spent here, training. You must handle this on your own." Her mentor leant forwards on his desk, eyeing her forewarningly. "This cannot go wrong, Kira. I am relying on you to see to that."
"It won't. You have my word," she grinned, staunching a nervous feeling. "Have faith, remember?"
With that she took her leave, warmed by relief as she closed the door softly behind her. The previous night was in the past. No questions had been asked, which was odd; once again, life was rarely so obliging.
There was no point dwelling on it. It was a blessing, and those were to be welcomed with open arms.
She passed a window and paused, looking out over the estate and watching Connor in the courtyard below. He was still caught in the one-sided affair of his conflict with the training dummy, attacking as though the inanimate figure had somehow offended him. Teaching him to fight like that had been a point of pride for both Kira and Achilles; teaching him patience would be a different battle entirely.
Kira smiled to herself. It was a battle Achilles had lost before: for all of what she considered to be her extensive talents, patience was not one she could claim. She'd be a hypocrite if she could begrudge Connor the mistake he'd make on their shared mission, and besides: history had well-documented the Templars' ability to try the patience of even the most seasoned Assassin.
Reflecting on that centuries-old war, Kira pushed the thoughts of Connor and his training from her mind. It was time to get back to her own pursuits. She had work to do.
Author notes:
Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)
Merry Christmas everyone! This was only a short chapter- understandably I've been extremely busy recently. Still, I wanted to make sure I got one out on time for Christmas. I hope you're enjoying the story so far- there'll be more on the way soon.
Kittycat312