Hello all! I hope ya'll enjoyed the first chapter! Please feel free to review and, as always, enjoy this chapter!
Haytham POV
I sit in the Green Dragon and take another sip of rum. I don't know what inspired me to drink, I don't really very often. Honestly, it may just be boredom, waiting for that son of mine to show up.
Just as I have that thought, I see Connor's tall frame enter the doorway. His face is in a frown, and I notice it's deeper than usual. I wonder what the Commander had to say. I smile at him as he sits down. He tries smiling back, but it's so strained.
"Well, what did he want? You seem to be in quite a pleasant mood," I say sarcastically.
"He thinks that there are people trying to create an army to overthrow the Patriots once they win. He asked me to investigate," Connor answers. He looks down at the table and traces the pattern on it with his fingers. "I agreed to."
"Well, what does he expect you to do?"
"I am to go undercover in one of the camps and see what I can discover."
"Sounds simple enough." He looks back at me, and he looks stressed. Is there something I'm missing? "What?"
"I want you to look at me and try and figure out why I'm worried about it." I furrow my brow.
"I really don't know what you mean."
"Have you ever met a Native who was a soldier?"
"Is that what you're worried about?"
"Yes, that's what I'm worried about. Even if I somehow can manage to get in there without incident, who will even talk to me? Will there be a point in going?"
"You will be fine, son. I have faith in you." The worry leaves his features, replaced by a genuine smile.
"Thank you. That means a lot." I smile and pat his arm.
"You're welcome." He leans back in his chair and relaxes a bit. "Say, are you hungry, Connor?"
"I guess a little. I figured I'd get you home and then go catch something."
"Nonsense. Let me buy you something."
"No, thank you. I really don't prefer buying food."
"You didn't even sleep last night. Aren't you tired?"
"I'm fine, Father. I've gone longer without sleeping." Dear God, this boy is stubborn. A waitress passes by, and I decide to address her.
"Ma'am?" She stops.
"Yes, Mister Kenway? What can I do for you?" she replies.
"I need two meals for my son and I, please."
"The usual?"
"Please. And can you get him a water as well?" She nods and walks away.
"You have a usual?" Connor asks.
"Yeah, the only thing in this place worth eating. You'll like it, I'm sure."
"Father, please, you do not need—"
"Connor." He frowns.
"What?"
"Please do not fight me on this. Stop complaining, for once." He looks down.
"Sorry." I almost laugh; he looks like a kicked puppy.
"You don't have to apologize, son. You just need to let people do things for you once in a while." He looks back up at me and sighs. He's sitting so stiffly, I don't understand why he looks like I'm chastising him.
"Okay." I chuckle and pat his arm.
"You aren't in trouble, Connor. Calm down."
"I am sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?"
"I… I don't know… you just seem upset at me."
"Over food?" He shrugs.
"I guess it does seem silly when you say it out loud."
"You're just tired and stressed. Once we get some food in you, you should rest." He shrugs.
"If you insist."
"I do." The waitress brings over the food for Connor and me, and I thank her as she goes. After Connor inspects the food, he begins eating it.
"Not bad," he says.
"Told you." He rolls his eyes, but I see a smile forming. I chuckle and dig into my food.
"Master Kenway?" Charles says. Connor groans at the sound of his voice. I shoot him a warning glare before Charles reaches the table. "Thank goodness you're okay, I thought—" he began, then stops short when he notices Connor.
"No, I did not kill him. Fortunately for you," Connor says.
"Son," I say, hoping the scolding tone in my voice is enough to quiet him. He frowns and slouches in his seat. I decide not to scold him for his posture.
"Sir, I don't understand," Charles says.
"Well, Charles, I just have to say I told you so."
"Okay, fine. You were right. But what happened?"
"We fought, he stabbed me, I fell unconscious and awoke at his doctor's. I've been on Davenport recovering."
"This makes no sense. So what is the plan now?"
"We agreed on a truce."
"That worked well last time."
"I happen to remember how it ended last time, thank you. But this is different. Connor proposed to make it order wide, and I agreed."
"What? Why?" Connor rolls his eyes.
"I have better things to do. You feel free to explain it to him yourself," Connor says, getting up. He shoves past Charles and begins to pass me. But I catch his arm.
"Sit down. If this is going to work, you have to learn to get along with him," I say.
"I have no desire to get along with him, thank you."
"If nothing else at least finish your meal. You don't have to say a word if you don't want."
"I'm not hungry." I give him a stern look.
"Quit behaving like a child." As if to be a pain, he does exactly what a child would do. He jerks his arm away and plops into the chair, huffing. "In case it was unclear, this is me being upset at you." He rolls his eyes again, and I sigh. "Charles, pull up a chair." Charles does so.
"Look sir, I understand that you care about him, but do you really think this will work? I mean, he's killed so many of us!" he says.
"We are not innocent either. This is about putting aside our differences and compromising."
"To what end?"
"A better world. One where instead of fighting each other, we can balance each other."
"And do you think those of us who do not have sentimental ties will be able to just forget the past several centuries of war?"
"We both just want justice and peace, Charles. It is the means that is different. However, he made an excellent point to me."
"Which was?"
"We need the Assassins. Without them, who is to stop us from becoming the tyrants we strive so hard to be rid of?"
"We would never."
"Think about it though. Power does corrupt, doesn't it? Remember Cesare Borgia from the Italian Renaissance? He was corrupt for sure." Charles sighs.
"Promise me one thing."
"What?"
"This truce you're trying to issue had better be about bettering the world together, not just ensuring you don't have to kill your son."
"I promise it is business as well. We have already discussed a lot, and I wish to discuss further with more of each of our men. It's just that with me as Grand Master and Connor as Mentor, it makes it easy to build that bridge."
"Mentor? I thought that was Achilles."
"He officially gave me the title a few years back. He is too old to be involved very deep in these affairs any longer," Connor says.
"Oh, I see. I guess it makes sense then, since there was no one else to fill the mantle." Connor scoffs.
"Do not be so foolish as to think I've been only focused on hunting you Templars."
"There's more?"
"There's always more," I say, sipping my drink. "And son?"
"Hm?" he replies.
"Eat your food like I told you to."
"Do not worry about me." Charles rolls his eyes.
"Such a brat," he mumbles under his breath. Connor sits upright.
"Says the man who's throwing a fit about progress simply because he doesn't like me."
"Connor, please," I say.
"Progress? Please, we're more likely to achieve progress by shouting our plans from the rooftops. I'll have you know that you are too immature to do anything but hold us back, and the only reason your father doesn't see this is because he's letting emotion cloud his judgement," Charles retorts.
"Excuse me? I think I know what I'm doing."
"Not as long as you have this monster as your second in command," Connor says.
"Oh, I think his only mistake is not killing you that day at the church," Charles says. Connor stands up.
"I don't have to listen to this." He storms out. I sigh.
"What the hell, Charles?" I say.
"It's not my fault he's an immature brat!" he says.
"It is your fault that you started an argument with him."
"Whatever."
"I expect you to act like a grown man from now on and not start useless bickering."
"Yes sir."
"And despite what you may think, Connor is a good leader and a brilliant man. With him leading the Assassins, they will be upright."
"I hope you're right. What happens if this doesn't work?" I look down into my now empty cup.
"I'd rather not entertain that thought." Charles sighs.
I hope this goes well. On the homestead the truce seemed to make so much sense, and I was sure we would be supported. But two out of two people I've told rejected the idea. What will I do if it doesn't work? I cannot bring harm to my son. I rest my head in my hands and sigh.
Why couldn't we live a simpler life?
Connor POV
I slow my horse down to a trot. Now that my anger has faded, I realize that I was behaving rather immature. I should not have stomped out like that, but instead quietly ate the food Father bought me. To be fair, that's what he wanted me to do, and I never have been good at doing what he tells me to.
My stomach growls, and I sigh. I really am quite hungry, and if it weren't for my pride I might go back in hopes that my food was still there. However, I do have my pride, and it is much too large to return for the meal. I decide to improvise.
I ride up to a general store and feel a smile on my face. I haven't seen Emily in a few months, and I'm excited to see her again. I step into her store, and my smile drops. I see a middle-aged man standing behind the counter. He's a little shorter than I, perhaps around Father's height. He has brown hair, and his eyes are a familiar shade of green. I wonder if this is her father.
I buy an apple and sell the animal skins that I have on hand. I'm about to speak up, but he does first.
"Connor, right?" he says.
"How do you know me?" I reply.
"I've heard a lot about you. I worked as an informant for Achilles and the Brotherhood back in the day. I've provided some aid over the years since you showed up as well." Oh, bother. Emily's father is an Assassin associate?
"Oh. Achilles never told me—"
"Not to worry lad, I've not played a huge role since you got things moving again. Though I wouldn't mind getting more involved again."
"I would be glad to have your aid."
"Excellent. The name is Robert Carson." We shake hands.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I presume you are Emily's father?"
"I am."
"So, is uh… is she here somewhere?"
"Not at the moment. She went out to run some errands. How do you know her?"
"I met her a few years back, we've become friends."
"Oh, you're that Connor too! You should have said that in the first place. To be honest, I wasn't sure you were real." I smile slightly and tilt my head in amused curiosity.
"Why?"
"Well, besides the fact that she told me about how you rescued her from those crooks like some hero, she always talked about you two spending time together conveniently when I wasn't there. It just seemed odd."
"Why would she make me up?"
"She doesn't really have friends, and I thought she just made it up to not feel so lonely."
"I do not see why she does not have friends. I think she's fun to be around."
"I'm glad you do, lad."
"Tell me, what things about me have you heard?" He rests his hands on the counter.
"She says that you're fun to pick on, for one." I grin.
"Yes, I've learned that she thinks so."
"She does think you're a good listener, and you make her laugh."
"She said that?"
"Yeah, she did. I'm glad you two get along so well. Does she know, though?"
"About the Assassin thing? No. I honestly planned to keep it that way."
"She does not like being lied to, Connor."
"I've not lied to her, I just have avoided that topic, is all."
"You may want to tell her, though. If she were to find out on her own, she'd be angry."
"I will consider it." At that moment, the door opens. I smile to see Emily entering.
Every time I see that woman, she looks more beautiful.
"Connor!" she says with a grin, and I find myself smiling too.
"Hi, Emily" I reply.
"You actually visit again in less than a year and a half. I'm impressed." I frown.
"I'm sorry about that, I didn't mean—" she starts laughing. Oh, she was kidding. It's been too long since I've seen her, I thought I could pick up when she was serious.
"I'm joking, you dork."
"I guessed that when you started laughing." She walks by and pats my arm as she passes. The touch makes my arm tingle, and I wish she wouldn't move her hand so soon.
Why do I react like this to her?
"So, I see you met my father," she says.
"I have," I reply.
"See, dad? Told you he was real." I chuckle.
"As real as they come."
"So, what brings you here to Boston? It's been a few months."
"Well, I was out at sea, then only returned in time to care for my father. He got injured pretty bad, and so I brought him to my home to recuperate." Her father gives me an odd look, and I know I'll have to explain to him why I was caring for my father.
"How's he doing?"
"He is much better, though I fear not as well as he thinks."
"I'm sure he'll be fine."
"Yes, I am probably just worried too much."
"How was your voyage?" I think about the Battle of Chesapeake Bay, where I was before attacking thee fort. Instead of saying that, I decide to bring up the treasure.
"It was fine. Oh, while we're speaking of being at sea, I found the final piece of the map I told you about. I believe I know where to go, though I doubt I'll return to sea for a while."
"I'm guessing you've other things to do in Boston then?"
"There's always something for me to do. Enough about me, though. How have the last few months treated you?"
"Good. I've spent most of my time here working. Father is going on a trip at the end of the month, so I'll be running the store by myself. He'll be gone about a month."
"I'm sure you'll do a wonderful job."
"I hope. Oh, also I'm glad you're here. I'm buying a horse tomorrow; would you like to come with me to pick her up? We can even go riding for a while."
"I would love to."
"Great! I can't wait."
"I will look forward to it as well."
"Well, Connor, it was nice seeing you, but I should get back to work."
"Okay. I will see you tomorrow."
"Meet me here at ten?"
"Sounds good."
"Okay. Goodbye, Connor."
"Goodbye, Emily. It was good to meet you, Mister Carson."
"You as well lad, take care," he replies. I exit. I take a deep breath.
I thought maybe time would calm the way I feel about her, but it only made the feeling stronger. I don't know what to do, but I can't drag her into this life. Still, being friends isn't so bad, at least I can spend time with her.
I mount my horse and decide to swallow my pride and find Father. I owe him an apology for my behavior. He is right; if this is going to work, Charles and I cannot argue. I'll have to figure out my problems with him for the sake of the truce. So, I ride for the Green Dragon in hopes to find my Father.
When I arrive, I happen to see Charles a small distance away. I take a deep breath and approach him. He glares at me, and I pretend not to notice his hand hovering over his gun.
"Where is my father? I ask.
"Looking for you, most likely to chew your ear off for storming out like that," he replies.
"Where?"
"That way." I look to where he points and nod.
"Thanks." I mount my horse and ride away. After riding a bit, I activate my Sight. In the distance I see a yellow figure turn the corner. I deactivate it before spurring my horse in pursuit.
I see him ride into an alleyway, and when I reach it I dismount. I frown as I hear some commotion around the corner. I enter the alleyway to see Father's sword clashing with that of one of my recruits, and another one is drawing his weapon.
"Stop!" I shout. They do.
"But Mentor—" the woman who was fighting begins.
"Do not argue."
"Some of yours, I assume?" Father asks, still holding his sword defensively.
"Yes, now will you put the sword away?" He frowns but complies. The recruits look baffled.
"Sir, I do not understand," the man says.
"He is off limits. We have agreed upon a truce."
"Right, because the last worked so well," the woman says, rolling her eyes. I narrow my eyes at her, and she bows her head. "Sorry, sir. That was out of line."
"I am well aware how the last one went, but this is going to be order wide. That means you are not to harm a Templar unless they attack first. Am I understood?"
"Yes, Mentor," they both say.
"Good. Now go about your business." They scatter, and I face Father.
"That was annoying," he says, and I notice him holding his shoulder.
"You are hurt."
"Don't be ridiculous, they're novices. Besides, I probably had my sword out for a while five seconds before you showed up."
"You're holding your shoulder."
"I am fine." He moves his hand.
"You are lying." He rolls his eyes.
"Never mind that. I wish to discuss your behavior at the Green Dragon." I look down at my feet. "You shouldn't have lashed out like you had. It was not only counterproductive, but just plain rude. If you wish for this truce to work, you cannot start arguments with my men. Including and especially Charles."
"I know. It was stupid and immature, and I apologize." I look up at him to see surprise on his face, but it only lasts a couple seconds.
"Furthermore, you should have finished your food. It was a waste of both my money and perfectly good food."
"I know."
"Not to mention childish and embarrassing." I look back at my feet.
"I know that too." He sighs.
"I'm trying to be mad at you, quit agreeing." I look back at him and smile innocently. His face softens ever so slightly.
"I mean, if you want me to argue with you I can."
"It would make it easier to be mad."
"I was actually coming to apologize for my behavior."
"Fine! I forgive you! Happy?"
"Yes." He chuckles and pats my shoulder. He rests his hand there.
"Where do you usually stay when in Boston?"
"In a tavern. Why?"
"That is unacceptable. No child of mine is to stay in one of those dumpy taverns while if I can help it. Stay at my home."
"Wait, you want me to come live at your house? Why?"
"You are my son after all, and I do feel some responsibility to do what I can for you."
"But really, that is too much…"
"If I had been a good father, you'd have been living with me anyway."
"But—"
"For once, do not argue with me. Just come." I open my mouth to argue, but he just walks away. I decide to actually obey him for a change and follow as he mounts his horse. He begins riding as I mount mine as well and catch up to ride beside him. I see a faint smile on his lips.
"What are you smiling for?"
"Nothing."
"Oh, it's something."
"Fine, but I would rather not ruin it."
"Okay, so I'm doing what you said, so what?" His smile grows.
"So, you rarely do what I tell you to, and when you do it's a fit. It's just… refreshing." I roll my eyes.
"Whatever. How far is it?"
"Not very, it's just outside the city."
"Good, I—" I stop, seeing someone on a rooftop hide behind a chimney.
"What is it?" Father asks, looking at me with a frown. I see the man come from behind his hiding spot just before Father and I pass.
"We have a follower," I whisper. I see Father focus and try to look around. I'm sure he's just activated his Eagle Vision. "The rooftops, just behind us on my side." He looks at me, but I see his eyes dart behind us. He frowns.
"He means harm. Is it an Assassin?"
"No. I was hoping he was one of yours."
"Not that I recognize, but even if he was he clearly has ill intention."
"Who could it be?"
"I don't know, but I'm not leading them to my house. Keep up." He spurs his horse, and I repeat the action. We zip through the city, then eventually when we reach a small abandoned section, he dismounts and leads me into another alley. He leans against the wall, and I look around. I see our follower on a rooftop not far. He's drawing a bow, aiming an arrow…
I catch the arrow before I'm consciously aware that it almost went through my eye. I look at the arrow, then put in in my quiver as I look up at the man. He turns and runs.
My feet are already carrying me after him before I think about it. I shout at Father to stay put. I pull myself onto the rooftop and see the man a few buildings ahead of me. Still, it only takes a few leaps and sprints before I'm caught up, and I tackle the man.
"Who are you?" I demand.
"None of your business," he replies in a British accent.
"You trying to lodge in arrow in my brain kind of makes it my business."
"Go fuck yourself, half breed." I ponder a moment what to do. I'm not much of a fan of interrogation, but I know if Father were doing this he would use fear. I'm not as intimidating nor as cruel, but I'm sure I've seen him in action enough to sell it.
Haytham POV
I try and remain quiet as I approach Connor and the man he's got pinned to the ground. I don't wish to be a distraction. I hold my shoulder and watch Connor extend his hidden blade.
"Tell me who you are and why you tried to kill me," Connor says.
"You won't kill me without your information," replies the other man.
"You're right. Which is why I'm not threatening your life. There are ways I can hurt you that won't kill you." I raise my eyebrows.
"Go to hell."
"You know what? I've got an idea. Since you don't wish to talk, maybe a little motivation can help. How about I cut off your fingers until you do? And don't worry, if that doesn't work there's always your toes. If you still wish to be stubborn… I'll cut your cock off." My jaw drops. Connor just made that threat?
"You're lying." I dare say I agree. I remember being in New York with him pursuing those thieves. He was repulsed by the very thought of torture then.
"Would you like to test that then?" I move slightly to the side, so I can see the man fully. As a response to his silence, Connor takes the man's finger and pressed his blade against it. He puts just enough pressure to draw blood.
"Wait! I'll talk!"
"I'm listening."
"My name is Johnathan Adams. I work for a group called…"
"Yes?" He sighs.
"The Poisonstars. We've never truly cared about either you or the Templars until recently. You've each gotten in the way one too many times, and we especially don't wish for you to have a truce. With you and Haytham dead, it will be no more."
"What do you have against us?"
"You already interfere with us enough alone, but together?"
"And what is it you want, then? What is it the Poisonstars seek?"
"Absolute power." Connor sighs.
"So you came to kill us, so we wouldn't stand in your way of power?"
"Yes. I was hoping to take you out and then Haytham, since he is weak."
"Well, you clearly failed. Not for lack of trying, at least," I say. Connor looks at me in mild surprise. I guess I did fine sneaking up on him.
"I told you everything. Now let me go," Johnathan says. I scoff as I approach the two.
"What, so you can return to your masters and tell them we've discovered you?"
"Father, you do not really expect me to kill him, do you?" Connor asks. Is this really a question?
"Yes, I do. Surely you see the risk of letting him live."
"We… can hold him prisoner."
"Why?"
"We know exactly nothing about these Poisonstars, and I'm sure he can provide insight sometimes." I sigh.
"Fine, but he's your problem, not mine." Connor whistles, and I hear an eagle cry from above. I look up and furrow my brows. When I look back, three Assassins have joined us on the roof. Connor gets up and drags the man to his feet.
"Take this man to a safehouse. Search him thoroughly and lock him up," Connor says.
"Yes, sir," one says. They tie the man up and take him away.
"Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself getting up here?"
"No, I'm not that old."
"I am worried about your injuries, Father."
"I'm fine, I didn't strain myself."
"Okay, if you insist." He turns around.
"Son?" Connor faces me.
"Yeah?"
"What the hell was that about?"
"What?"
"Your threats! That was excessive, not to mention out of character." I realize that I'm angry, and I have no problem if he knows it.
"I was bluffing, I knew he'd fall for it."
"What if he hadn't?"
"I knew he would. I didn't give the "what ifs" a thought. Besides, I've watched you interrogate enough people to know how to sell it." Dear God, what have I taught him?
"Listen close, boy, because I don't want to ever say this again. Do not follow my lead when it comes to this. There are better ways to get information, and I had better never catch wind of you actually torturing someone." He tilts his head.
"I thought you'd be pleased."
"No. I'm nowhere near pleased. You're a better man than me for going this long without it, and I swear I don't need to see you as worn as I am." He looks at his feet.
"I am sorry." I sigh. Now I feel guilty for getting so angry.
"It's okay. Please just don't do it anymore."
"Yes, Father."
"Come along, son." I pat his shoulder once more, then go.