Anne beamed with pleasure as she skipped down the stairs into the tap room. Usually it would have been Vic, who got to go to the market, but he was "feeling under the weather today". Which meant he had drunk with the customers again. It made him popular with them, but he didn´t know his limits. Therefore her father had handed Anne a small purse and a list of instructions. "Be quick." Otherwise, he didn´t bother with her. Must be in a good mood today. Anne didn´t find the tap room as empty as expected. Omar was already up. Anne blushed. She had gotten carried away yesterday. "Good…good morning, Mr. Khaled." she stammered. "Good morning, Miss McGregor." he answered, completely unperturbed. Maybe he was kind enough to forget the whole thing. "I… I am going down to the market, sir. Will you be needin´ anything?" Omar thought for a moment. "If it is alright for you, I would like to accompany you." Anne smiled. "Sure. You ready to go?" They were almost out of the door, when her father called them back. "Mr. Khaled." Anne didn´t like the emphasis he put on Mr. Her stomach clenched together. The day had started so well. Omar turned around. "Good morning, Mr. McGregor." McGregor came closer. He was a tall, broad shouldered man with a wild beard. Even when he wasn´t angry, he looked scary. Anne froze and averted her eyes. Maybe he would just overlook her. "You trying to cheat me?" Oh, he was angry alright. Omar stayed calm. "I am not sure I understand your meaning." "You don´t understand? Oh, you understand me very well. You think I don´t know that my girl was in your room yesterday night? She kept you… company, which you haven´t paid me for. She was untouched, you know. You can´t just despoil her and not compensate me." Anne noticed that her father tried to resort to a more polished speech than usual. Omar´s refined manner of expressing himself seemed to make him uncomfortable. She blushed at his implication. Omar clenched his fist and moved towards McGregor. "You are not seriously believing that I forced myself upon a girl?" "I am suggesting…" McGregor puffed his chest "that you pay me for fucking my daughter." "Dad, he didn´t…" Anne whispered, but her father lifted his hand in her direction. "You shut up." Anne pressed herself to the wall. Instantly, Omar moved between her and her father. He pulled a small purse out of his pocket and threw it at McGregor. "I trust 10 Pounds will suffice?" "10 Pounds?" McGregor laughed. "Lad, for that money you could buy her outright." Apparently, Anne was worth about as much as a decent horse. "I would prefer to have that in writing." Omar crossed his arms. "You are going to draw up a contract that you are selling Anne McGregor to me for the sum of 10 Pounds. You may want to consult a lawyer." McGregor laughed and shook his head. "Fair enough. Vic!" he yelled for his son. Vic came down the stairs slowly, holding his head. "Jesus, dad. What´s the matter?" "Get me Mr. Collins, quickly." Vic shrugged but didn´t question his father´s orders.
Not so Mary McGregor. When her son arrived with the lawyer and McGregor explained the arrangement, she made a sharp cry. "Are you mad? You can´t sell our daughter." McGregor slapped her hard. "Quiet, wife. I can do with my children whatever I want." "No, you can´t!" Vic protested. "Dad, you can´t. Please." To everybody´s surprise, it was Anne who spoke next. "It´s okay, really. I don´t mind." Anne was young, but she wasn´t nearly as naïve as her family believed and deeply practical. The way she saw it, she had a choice between the unknown and a life worse than death. If her father was so quick to sell her now, what would he do in the years to come? Omar didn´t seem to be the type to force her into anything. If she said that she wanted to stay, he would leave her behind. But her father… he would sell her to the next man who showed interest. And what were her chances that he would be as kind as Omar? Whatever Omar planned to do with her, it couldn´t be worse than what life in her father´s alehouse held in store for her. The last couple of days had made her realise how little her father actually cared for her. This was more than the usual displeasure fathers had for daughters they had no use for. Her father had threatened to kill her for her gift and now he was happy enough to sell her off. Mary McGregor pulled her daughter into a tight embrace. "I am sorry." she managed to speak through her tears. "I should have protected you against…" Now Anne began to cry as well. She loved her mother dearly. Leaving her and her brother behind would hurt. "It´s fine, ma." Omar watched silently. Vic was the first one to speak to him. "You bastard. What could you possibly want from a child? She is just a girl, for fuck´s sake." Omar didn´t answer him, instead he turned towards Anne. "I won´t force you to come with us if you want to stay." Anne, still in her mother´s embrace, shook her head. "No, I want to come." She didn´t even ask where they were going or what they would be doing. Omar had been kind to her, he had listened to her and comforted her. Anne trusted him. Vic closed his eyes to blink away the tears. The disgust was gone from his face. "Take her. But you have to swear one thing: be a better brother to her than I was. Look after our Annie." "I swear." Omar said solemnly. Her mother kissed her. "Be free from this place and be happy."
They set off as soon as Bianchi had woken up. The Italian would have preferred a few days rest to cure his cold, but Omar wanted to be at sea before nightfall. He didn´t trust McGregor. He was greedy enough to come after them. Anne had expected Bianchi to protest against her coming with them, but he wasn´t even surprised. Merely annoyed that Omar had paid so much money. "Now we have hardly enough to book passage. My dear boy, really. What were you thinking?" "Passage to where?" Anne had been quiet the whole way to the harbour. "France. We have friends in Paris." Omar laid a hand on her arm to impress the seriousness of his next question. "If you leave now with us, you might not be able to come home for many years. Are you certain this is what you want?" Anne cocked her head. "I only know that I can´t stay here." Bianchi ruffled her hair with a clumsy tenderness. "Don´t worry, little miss. We will tell you everything once we are safely at sea." Anne had only been at the harbour once before. She watched the ships with eyes like saucers. "Imagine owning one of those. You could go wherever you want. Someplace warm. The West Indies, maybe…" she heard herself murmur and froze. How could she talk like that if she had no idea how that might be received by her two companions? But instead of the impatience she would have gotten from her father, she saw only pity in Omar´s face. "You needn´t be afraid of us, Miss McGregor. I am not going to beat you for opening your mouth." Anne stared at him. That was too good to be true. What was the caveat? She nodded silently. Bianchi shook his head and gave her a long look. When Anne averted her eyes, he sighed. "I sincerely hope that you will fit in with us. But…" he trailed off. "No." Anne blurted out. "I will fit in. I will. I promise. I won´t disappoint you." She could see that the blatant need in her voice only strengthened Bianchi´s opinion.
They bought passage on a ship to Calais. Finally, safely stowed away in the belly of the ship and far away enough from the other passengers, Omar and Bianchi told Anne what to expect. Omar took care to explain the situation to Anne as simply as possible. "Have you ever heard of the Brotherhood of Assassins?" Anne shook her head. "I know that assassins are murderers." She was afraid again. Had she read the two men wrong? Were they hired killers? Omar gave her a reassuring smile. "Long before Assassin meant murderer, it was the name of a secret group in the east, in Syria and the kingdom of Jerusalem. The founding fathers of our order. We operate in secret to stop evil. Plots, murders, uprisings… We have a saying: we work in the shadows to serve the light. I find it rather fitting." It took Anne a couple of moments to process the idea of a secret group who served to protect. It sounded utterly absurd. "I am not sure I understand. If you are some band of hidden warriors for justice…" she saw Omar smile at her turn of phrase "what do you want with me? Women can´t be warriors. Can they?" Bianchi wagged his index finger at her. "Of course they can, young miss. You will learn to defend yourself and others. No man will ever lay a hand on you again unpunished." Anne felt the corners of her mouth stretch into a broad smile. Had God finally listened to her prayers and sent her two angels? Or had Granny put in a good word with the old Gods she had worshipped in secret? "But…" Omar cautioned. "It will be a difficult, dangerous life. You will have to train hard. In return, you get the chance to do something meaningful. Put your gift to good use." Anne cast a nervous glance at Bianchi, but he didn´t seem surprised. "Gifts like yours are valued by the Brotherhood." he explained. Anne took a deep breath. "I am ready." she said. Her life had been difficult before, but never meaningful.
"And… my friends call me Annie."