He stared blankly at the woman just visible across the beach shore. She hadn't moved once since her head turned his and the boatman's direction.
'Tribe of Cannibal Women.'
"Samuel, what do we do?"
The Knife of Dunwall had a feeling if he ran, the woman would chase him, and he'd rather not have to use his mark for something as simple as a single woman. Silence was his only answer.
"Samuel?"
Glancing over to where the boatman had one been, Daud couldn't help but stare in disbelief at the empty log the other had been using only moments before as chair. The were no footprints in the sand or any other sign another man had been there besides himself. For a moment all the knife of Dunwall could do was stare before a shriek similar to that of a battle cry tore itself from the woman's throat and she was abruptly sprinting his way.
This was not his day.
For the safety of the forest line, Samuel watched as the dreaded Knife of Dunwall Blinked out of existence, having finally noticed the Boatman's own disappearance. It took the assassin long enough. Hopefully the other was smart enough to avoid the eastern shore... Who was he kidding? If Daud had the same luck as Corvo, he run right into it; Literally... Whelp, it wasn't his problem. It wasn't as though the boatman had asked him to run that way and Daud was a big boy; he could look after himself. Humming, the boatman started heading south; away from the woman lookin around in confusion and the direction Daud had fled.
Where was he? Where was he?
God Damn It, how was he supposed to guard someone he couldn't even keep track of? How in the Seven Hells had the Boatman managed to slip past his guard and out of his sight? And where the Hell was he?! Corvo's boatman needed leash, preferably one with a bell. The thought alone caused the assassin to pause mid-step. A bell collar didn't actually sound that bad.
Dark leather wrapped around a pale neck as the silver of the bell hung teasingly at the base of his throat, lips twisted into a playful pout while mischief filled emeralds peered up at him from beneath an ebony curtain of silk. He bets the other's flexible, patient and forgiving with a high tolerance for pain. He's have to be if the rumors about The Royal Protector and his Boatman are true.
Somewhere on the opposite side of the island, Samuel Beechworth paused mid-step with the sudden and unexplainable urge to locate the Knife of Dunwall just so he could strangle the man himself. After a moment, the boatman quickly brushes the urge off and continues on his way.
Albus Dumbledore wasn't a man to be trifled with.
While it was true he didn't know where they where, he wasn't the sort to permit such a thing- or a little girl trying to play adult- to stop him. His words may not hold much weight to the people here but he was still the Master of the Elder Wand, The Puppeteer pulling strings from every shadow. He was a man who always had a plan.
The elder wizard reluctantly hands the girl's protector; Mr. Attano, his old wand while keeping the Elder hidden under concealments. He permits them to place him within a filthy cell for 'kidnapping'. He permits them to believe they've won, that they had the upper hand. Its child's play, waiting till all but his one guard is gone. He Imperious the man and with a couple spells there are two Albus Dumbledore's standing within his cell. After that its just the simple matter of creating a homunculus to take the guards place and casting disillusion charms upon his being.
He leaves the palace dungeon only thirty minutes after arriving and no one is the wiser. Within the hour, Albus Dumbledore is back within the safety of his office in Hogwarts, a new non-sweet related password firmly in place. He has a 'Savior' to locate and new pawns to place.
Darkness.
It swallows his vision whole and becomes his world. There are no lights nor is there a need for any. Despite the overwhelming darkness he is not alone. He can hear the other's breathing, feel scarred skin under his hands, smell the metallic scent of blood.
Logically, he should be scared as they always come in the dark but he's not.
He's in control here and the other allows he to stay in control. Moonlight flickers in through the widow and for once the younger could see the other person with him. There's blood entwined in his snowy hair, covering his pale skin, but those emerald eyes are soft as they've always been. They hold no pity or resentment like many of the others would or have.
He's a good man, too good for the likes of him. He knows the elder deserves more, but he can't- he won't- let him go. He's a selfish man but in that moment, trapped within the darkness, he's the happiest he's been in years.
He wakes in his palace bedroom, with but a half melted candle to keep out the darkness. For a moment he just stares at the stone over his head before throwing his feet over the side of the bed. Despite knowing the other's wont' be there, the Royal Protector allows his feet to guide him to the Boatman's room. Samuel's a simple man and it reflects within his choice of bare minimum decoration, it probably would have had less if Emily had not been so stubborn.
A self made hammock is set by an open widow which overlooks the sea, it swings every so slightly with every salty breeze that makes its way into the room. A bed with silk covers and hand sown quilts is shoved against a wall- Corvo fondly recalls the day Emily forced the boatman to get an actually bed as he was 'too old and fragile' to safety continue using the hammock. There are bookshelves along the eastern wall, full of old tomes and wood carvings of a variety of things: A Mini Amaranth, The Leviathan, A Whale with strange marking upon its side, Emily sitting upon her throne in a scene Corvo recognized from his daughter's orientation day, Ect... There's even a wooden carving of him: smile on his face with Emily next to him; her wooden arms in placed in a way that shows they're likely talking.
Corvo can't help but smile himself.
Samuel had a talent of capturing moments within his work and a good memory to aid in its perfection. Gently placing the carving back onto the shelf, Corvo makes his way to the Hammock and crawls inside. He grabs one of the Boatman's spare jacket from under the pillow and wraps it around himself. Tomorrow he would double his efforts in search of the missing man.
There was nothing quite like watching the stars shine above from the beauty of the sea.
"So, how'd you escape the Tribe?"
Next to him the Knife of Dunwall pauses in the wrapping of his wrist.
"To be honest, I'm not sure you would believe me but... They had me cornered and then this strange man wearing these hideous robes showed up out of nowhere and started flinging colorful lights from a stick. They where so focused on him, I decided to make a tactical retreat."
Daud would swear he hears the emerald eyed man muffle a laugh. Its a rather pleasant sound, one the Knife of Dunwall wouldn't mind hearing again. Even if it was at his expanse.
Samuel finds it easier to sleep in a boat then he does on land, even if there's an assassin who kill Empress Jessamine only two feet away from him. He tries not to ponder on that snippet of information as the soft rocking and the salty breezes lure him to sleep.
When he can't sleep, he wonders the palace halls.
To be honest, he doesn't like it here. He feels trapped and contained but one cannot just disobey a direct order from their Empress. He allows his feet to carry him over the stone without any true destination, silently up one hall and down the next. He probably would have continued doing so all not had he heard the beginnings of a scream suddenly cut off from behind a door that he subconsciously recognizes leads to Corvo's room. The Boatman finds himself moving before he even has a moment to think things over. He pushes open the heavy door, expecting to find the Royal Protector in the thralls of another nightmare yet the moment the doors open, the boatman freezes.
The man he expected to find asleep is wide awake, stranding a naked woman with his bloodied hands wrapped tightly around her throat. A part of the Boatman recognizes the terrified looking woman as one of the dancers who had been flirting with the Royal Protector all evening.
"Corvo!"
His tone is sharp as he grabs the other's wrists and is forced to pry them away from the woman's bruised throat, for good measure he drags the younger man back and away from the gasping, crying mess of a woman. Those dark eyes seem even darker then normal as they focus on him. For a moment the Boatman is tempted to move away from the man himself but instead keeps his gaze locked with the younger's while gesturing for the woman to leave. She doesn't need to be told twice as she flees, clutching the sheet close while forgetting even her clothes in her desperation to escape. Without the sheet its much easier to see the sea of blood staining the Royal Protector's bed.
"Samuel."
A part of him wants to lecture the man, to demand what the hell was going on but he looked so pitiful in that moment, so small like he expected for the Boatman to run away screaming like the woman had done. He sighs softly and tugs the younger to his feet.
"Come on, lets go get you cleaned up. Then you can stay in my room tonight."
Its not his smartest idea, letting a man he just caught torturing another into his bed, that Samuel would acknowledge but no one had ever quite accused him of doing the smart thing over what he felt was the right thing. He ends up having to scrub the blood off the Royal Protector himself while the other just stares at him, much like he had to scrub the filth off the man the day he boated the other back from the sewers.
He can only hope the other man isn't having another relapse as he dresses the Royal Protector in some of his spare clothes and guides the other to his hammock.
When Daud awake, the raft is on the shores of an island he doesn't recognize and the Boatman who was his charge is gone. In the distance he can see the gray matter of smoke raising to the morning sky. With luck it would be some form of civilization with open communication in which he would locate the missing boatman in. If not...
He would deal with that when the moment came.
Meanwhile in a small isolated town of Wei-Gon, Samuel Beechworth boarded a fisherman's boat about to set voyage with the destination of Redmoor. If all went well they would arrive within the month.