The vagaries of an escape
"Bien, they should be here soon." Stephane wiped his hands on his pants and looked down the street we were standing on. Surrounded by fields and dense thicket it was laying on the edge of Boston and bend on our position towards the town. According to Stephane the transport was going to pass by here and we should have a good chance to stop it. There were only two of us. Stephane was armed to the teeth. I just had a dagger "for emergencies", attached to my belt and hidden by the pleats of my skirt. But Stephane had assured me that he was going to take care of the guards. I was supposed to do what I probably could do best: Causing distraction.
"And you will stick to the plan?", the assassin asked me repeatedly, so that I just gave him an annoyed glance from the side as an answer. "I just wanted to be sure."
"You should better make sure that everyone is going to stay unharmed in this situation."
He didn´t answer. Silently we stood next to each other and tensely waited for the transport to appear on the horizon. The sun was slowly setting and long shadows covered the landside. Luckily there were no people around us who could stand in our way. Only from the distance I could hear the voices of people, enjoying this warm summer evening outside, before they retired into their stuffy houses for the night. It must be a good feeling to be able to use the peace. How much I wished to be sitting in the rocking chair on our balcony right now and relax, instead of standing here and hoping that nobody close to me was going to get harmed in the next few minutes.
"They are coming! Organise-toi!", Stephane´s alarming call tore me out of my thoughts and I also saw the prison cart coming down the street. The assassin ran to the edge of the street and hid in the thicket while I stepped behind the cart we had pushed diagonally across the street and had knocked it over. I sank down to the ground and waited until the prison cart came closer, before I grabbed my ankle in apparent pain and uttered a loud lamentation. I heard how one of the men on the coach-box swore about the roadblock and rumbling the cart stopped. "See what´s going on there. We have to move on."
Heavy steps approached me and shortly afterwards two uniformed men appeared beside the overthrown cart and stared down at me.
"Miss? Are you alright?", one of the men asked quite simple-mindedly, but he politely kneeled down so that we were on eye level.
"I didn´t pay attention to the path and this damn cart fell over and onto my foot. It hurts so badly. I can´t stand up." With a tearful voice I squinched up my face and gave the guards a pleading look. "I really don´t want to detain you, gentlemen. But I would be grateful, if you could help me somehow. It´s getting dark..."
The man glanced at his comrade who just stared at me silently, then at the prison cart where the coachman was already craning his neck to find out what was going on.
"Well, we really are in a hurry", the man in front of me started hesitantly. "But we could help you up at least and put up the cart. Then we send someone to bring you home or to a doctor."
"That would be too kind of you." I gave him a bright smile and got a bad conscience at the same moment. For someone who was working for the templars, he was really friendly and polite. Unlike the coachman who was raising his fist in this moment and called out: "Now don´t let yourself be detained by a woman! Get the cart off the street and then we move on. I don´t want to have trouble with the general."
The man in front of me gave me an apologetic look, before he grabbed my arm and carefully helped me up. I uttered a cry of pain when I put weight on my apparent hurt foot and began to hop on one leg, clinging to the guards to prevent them from turning around. Because I had seen Stephane who had risen from the thicket like a shadow and sneaked to the two men who were flanking the cart from behind and craned their necks into our direction, too. They didn´t notice that death was literally sneaking up on them, until they were silently killed by Stephane´s blades. Now Stephane stepped directly to the cart and I hoped that the men on the coach-box didn´t notice how he freed their prisoners. I felt relieved when three figures climbed out of the cart and I recognized one of them as Connor. They seemed to be alright and luckily my greatest fears hadn´t become real.
"Are you alright, miss?", the friendly guard asked me and I tore my gaze away from Stephane and Duncan who were sneaking along the sides of the cart to take care of the guards on the coach-box.
"Er...yes. Of course." I gave a forced smile. "I just thought how lucky I am that you came by."
Over the men´s shoulders I saw Connor, approaching us, ducked and armed with two daggers whose blades were flashing up from time to time. Again I got a bad conscience.
"You know, kindness is such a rare thing in these days..." Nervous I watched Connor coming closer and closer and I raised my voice a bit. "I would find it unfortunate, if something happens to somebody like you, who is so willing to help."
Connor stopped behind the men and stared at me with his head cocked. I actually hoped that he understood what I wanted to say. It seemed like he did, but he shook his head and I quickly took a step back and turned my eyes away, when he thrust the blades into the necks of the guards. Their dead bodies fell to the ground with a muffled noise.
"He really was friendly", I murmured, my eyes still turned away. From the corners of my eyes I saw how Connor wiped the bloody blades on the coats of the guards.
"You would not say that, if you had seen how he kicked the back of a prisoner who was already laying on the ground", he just said and now I dared to look at the bodies.
"So he was friendly just because I´m a woman?"
Connor shrugged his shoulders and I squinched up my face. Did there really had only a woman in need to turn men into gentlemen? That was...disappointing.
I sighed and looked at Connor. They had taken his robe and weapons but it seemed like he was unharmed, apart from the bruise on his right jaw. Only the gaze he was giving me wasn´t to my liking. But I hadn´t expected that he would approve that I was sticking my nose in dangerous things once again.
"Stephane needed somebody to distract them while he frees you", I justified my presence without waiting for Connor to say something about it. But he only raised an eyebrow, before he turned away and stumped back to his brothers without saying a word. Dumbfounded I followed him with my eyes. No objections? No lectures that I would have been safer somewhere else?
Hastily I ran after him but held back all comments when we reached the other three assassins. Clipper and Duncan had equipped themselves with their belongings by now and Duncan pointed at an open chest on the coach-box.
"Serve yourself, Connor", he said and only nodded at me shortly like Clipper did. I was glad that they obviously weren´t as resentful as Stephane was, although I wouldn´t have hold it against them. My apology for my shameless lie was still due, but right now was not the right opportunity.
By now Connor had slipped into his robe again and had armed himself. His gaze slid searchingly to the close environment while he pushed the hood over his head and rolled his shoulders, probably to bring bow and quiver into a comfortable position on his back.
"We should better go. It is not far to the fort anymore and they certainly wonder where the transport is."
"I think they already did." I had looked into the direction of the templar fort and you couldn´t miss the small troop of men coming into our direction. I believed to hear the clatter of their weapons and saw a blade of one of their bayonets flashing up in the light of the setting sun from time to time. Obviously the templar troop had detected us, too. Calls sounded and the men quickened their steps.
"Prepare yourself", Connor shortly ordered his brothers to do and grabbed my arm to pull me behind him. "You will stay with me and do what I say, understood?"
No problem at all. I really wasn´t interested in making an acquaintance with a bayonet. I was still needed by a two months old girl. As well as Connor. But right now he was a warrior and not a father. Aggressively he rotated the tomahawk in his hand before he moved into a threatening posture and stared at the templar guards. Some of them prepared to shoot while the others moved on with their rapiers.
"Take cover behind the cart", Connor shortly ordered me to do, before he started running and throw himself into the fight. The other assassins followed him and while the clatter of meeting weapons sounded, I hid behind the prison cart. Soon the first shots were fired and I winced when some bullets made the wood of the cart splinter. Nervous I looked to the horses who were stumping uneasily on the spot. If they should bolt now, I could forget my cover. Carefully I peeked past the cart and caught a glimpse of Connor, who was just fighting against two guards. He killed one with a well aimed strike of the tomahawk, the other was riddled with his comrades bullets as Connor used him as a human shield. The other three assassins were also entirely busy with fighting and by the look of it, they had the full attention of the riflemen. Slowly I bent my knees a bit and felt along the reins and straps to the buckles which were connecting the horses' harnesses with the cart. I pulled the dagger out of my belt and started a first attempt to cut the leather straps. I could open the buckles directly, but I wasn´t able to reach the second horse on the side of the fighting men. So I had to lean forward after I had loosened the first animal from the cart, to do the same with the other one. While doing so, my gaze slid to the riflemen over and over again. They were still concentrated on the assassins. The troop used to have fifteen men. About the half of them was already laying on the ground and the assassins were whirling between the guards as agile as always. So nobody noticed that I was finally freeing the horses from their load.
The horses pranced uneasily but where hold back by me with a light pull of the reins. I grabbed behind me and took the whip from the coach-box. Tying the reins into a knot I stepped to the horses' sides and tried to guess in which direction they would run to. The left side was blocked by thick bushes, the middle of the street by the fighting men but it was probably the direct way, if the animals wanted to run away from here. I dropped the knotted reins, uttered a high call and snapped the whip against the side of the horse close to me. The animals ran off in an instant and towards the row of riflemen who weren´t able to react in time. Two men were stamped down while three others fell groaning to the ground. Stephane and Duncan used this chance, finished their current fights and were by the side of the laying men shortly afterwards to kill them at last. It didn´t take long until the last enemies were killed, too. All of them except of one. In the fading light of the day I saw a single figure running back to the fort. But I wasn´t the only one who had detected it. Connor took the bow off his shoulders, put an arrow to the string entirely calm, aimed and shot. The arrow whistled through the air and hit the fleeing man in his back. He stumbled, fell and lay motionless on the street.
"They will not be the last." Connor adjusted the bow on his shoulders again and looked at Stephane. "Where can we meet?"
"At Sam Adams'. He is already expecting us."
Connor nodded. "Good. Then we will split up. Make sure that nobody follows you before you go to Adams."
The assassins nodded silently and disappeared into three different directions shortly afterwards. Connor chose the forth, took the street to the fort and he even didn´t turn around to me when he went off with large steps. He just expected me to follow him and I did of course. But for each of his steps, I had to make two so that I soon began to run to keep up with him. Wordlessly he led me further up the street, straight forward for a good distance and directly towards the templar fort, the wall already appearing in the distance. The question, why we weren´t staying aside the street, over the fields towards the city, was already on the tip of my tongue. But I kept it to myself. Because every time I looked at Connor, I could see the tension in his face and just stuck to the faith I had in him. He would risk no confrontation as long as I was with him. At least I hoped so.
When the street forked in front of us and led towards the city on our left, I took a sigh of relief. The fork came exactly at the right time. We were so close to the fort that I was able to see the gate and it opened in this moment to release several armed men, on horseback and on foot. They saw us and panic seized me when the riders drove on their horses and steered them into our direction. Connor stopped, took a pouch from his belt and pushed it into my hand.
"Run to the city. Do not stop, do not turn around and do not choose a destination for now. If they come close to you, use the smoke bombs. When you think you have lost them, seek a safe hideout and wait for me. I will find you."
His voice was entirely calm when he made all these orders, while I just wanted to take to my heels by the sight of the approaching riders.
"And what about you?", I asked nevertheless.
"I try to distract them", was the simple answer before Connor pushed me and I was more or less forced to run. I gathered my skirt and run along the street towards the city as if the devil himself was after me. Behind me I heard the shouts of the guards and the stumping and neighing of the horses. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw Connor´s white coated figure running straight through the group of men, tearing somebody down here and there, but basically angling for making them follow him. He only succeeded partly. Two riders, who actually should have followed the assassin, shouted something to their comrades and galloped after me shortly afterwards.
"Oh great", I murmured, clenched my teeth and tried to quicken my pace.
By now the sun had disappeared behind the roofs of Boston and everything around me was shrouded in darkness. Nevertheless I tried to search my environment for an opportunity to escape the riders somehow. If I stayed on the road, they would reach me soon. The breathing of their horses was already audible. Without further ado I doubled to the right, climbed over a fence and kept running on an open field. It didn´t offered the best ground to run on. Again and again my feet sank into the loose soil as if I was running through deep snow in winter. Furthermore the fence wasn´t an obstacle for the horses. I heard them jump over it and keep following me. But it was also difficult for them to find footing on this ground. I heard one of the riders curse. "Just shoot her, damn it!"
Shoot?! Again I glanced over my shoulder and my eyes widened in shock when I really saw how one of my pursuers trained his rifle on me. Instantly I began to double, hoping not to be an easy target like that. Nevertheless I heard a bang behind me and screamed appalled as the soil beside me sprayed up when the bullet hit it. That was how a deer must feel when it was hunted. But at least the fear of being shot like a deer made me quicken my pace because I was close to the edge of the field. Behind it were the first houses. If I past them, I would reach the city soon and then the men on their horses would have their difficulties to follow me. While the rifleman behind me reloaded his rifle audibly, I leaped forward, felt the more solid ground beneath my feet, doubled again and ran to the houses behind the field. Past them, under clotheslines, over a fence and finally towards the first houses in the city.
My lungs were burning and I asked myself how often I had run away from men with weapons in the past. Two times? Three times? Anyway, my fitness hadn´t become better since then, but obviously it didn´t matter when you were running for your life. Although my body was screaming for a break, my head was driving my legs on and so I kept running. The horses' hooves were now clearly audible on the partly paved streets of Boston when I ran through a side alley towards one of the main streets. Here were still several inhabitants romping about, who appalled jumped aside when I pushed myself past them and they were close to be trampled down by two horses shortly afterwards. I ignored their angry calls while I ran to another alley. But before I reached it, two guards in the blue uniform of the patriots appeared in front of me all of the sudden. They held their rapiers into my direction and the riders behind me called out that they should stop me.
Forget it.
Abruptly I turned to the left, avoided a cart in the right moment, pushed myself past a strolling couple and just ran to another alley. I barely knew my way around in Boston, but luckily the city was crossed by small side roads which were partly so crooked that you could reach every part of the city if you followed them. I wanted to use that now. I turned into the alley, followed by the guards who hadn´t been impressed by the obstacles I had overcome. I heard their heavy steps behind me while I kept running and looked for another way to escape them. But to my own horror, I noticed that I had run straight into a blind alley.
To my right and to my left were houses. In front of me a wooden fence. I couldn´t climb over it. I could try to squeeze through a gap where a board was missing. But it would take time and they would catch me before I was just halfway through it. Sliding I stopped in front of the fence and cursed quietly when the steps of the men behind me faded away, too.
"Well, it seems like this is the end for you", one of them said spitefully and when I turned around to them, they appeared satisfied. Where they proud of having caught an almost unarmed woman? Obviously. Also the men who had left their horses on the street, came to us and grinned widely. Were they going to shoot me now or just arrest me? Uncertain I looked back and forth between them until I suddenly remembered the pouch Connor had given me. I had tied it to my belt and now I slowly opened the fastening with one hand, grabbed inside and felt for one of the small balls. Connor had said I should use them. Smoke bombs, if I wasn´t mistaken and hopefully they would distract the men. Then I could use the time to slip through the fence and disappear. I couldn´t stop myself from grinning triumphantly when I pulled the bomb out of the pouch.
"Be careful, lady", one of the men growled and trained his rifle on me. But when he saw the inconspicuous ball in my hand, he smirked. "Do you want to throw stones at us?", he asked me amused and I shook my head.
"I just wanted to bid farewell", I said – maybe a bit too theatrically – and threw the smoke bomb in front of the men´s feet vigorously. It hit the ground with a muffled sound, rolled a bit, stopped and...nothing. I as well as the men stared at the small round thing on the ground, which was laying there entirely useless. I could have smitten my forehead when I noticed the short fuse on the bomb. A look into the pouch and I found the small tinder box.
What a stroke of genius. You want to use a bomb and don´t think of igniting it. Good job, Lillian.
The men in front of me raised their eyes and looked at me as if they doubted my intelligence like I did.
"Oops." I laughed nervously and raised my hands. "I think, I reconsidered. I will stay a bit longer."
The man who had just laughed about me, raised an eyebrow before he took a step towards me. But in this moment the bang of a shot sounded. The smoke bomb burst with a puffing sound and released the white smoke that was giving it its name. It surrounded us, so thick that it was difficult to see the own hand in front of your eyes. The smoke was reeking terribly and its sharp scent made me cough, but the four men had their difficulties, too. But soon not only because of the smoke. I heard a muffled noise, as if something heavy hit the ground, connected with the death rattle of two men. Then again two screams of pain and the characteristic sound of a hidden blade, sliding back into its bracer. Then a familiar silhouette rose close to me in the smoke.
"A bomb, Lillian. You have to ignite them and not just throw them to the ground."
Never before I had been so relieved to hear Connor´s instructive tone.
"It was an act in the heat of the moment", I replied sharply anyway and he uttered an indignant snort.
"Of course", he said dryly and because the smoke was slowly vanishing, I could see him better and better. As well as the four bodies behind him. He followed my gaze with his own.
"There are still a few after us. We should leave."
"Us? Those were the only ones who were after me."
Connor raised an eyebrow and I held back every other precocious comment.
Wordlessly Connor stepped to the fence, bent down a bit, formed a bowl with his hands, held them on a level with his knees and gave me an expectant look, while I was just looking at him uncomprehendingly. Connor sighed.
"Give me your foot. I will lift you over the fence", he said slowly, as if he had to explain the alphabet to a child. I really was a bit slow-witted today...
But I did as I was told and shortly afterwards I stood next to Connor by another street which was entirely empty.
"Follow me", Connor unnecessarily ordered me to do when he already began to run. I certainly didn´t plan to leave him somehow. So I tried to stay close to him when we ran along the street. We stopped at every corner and every crossroad, Connor checked if there were guards around and then we continued on our way. I was almost sure that we could make it to Adams' house without being detected, but I was soon put right. When we just ran into a side-road, a shot sounded and again it hit the ground close to me. Connor pulled me behind him in an instant and his searching gaze moved to the roofs. On one of them stood a rifleman, reloading his weapon.
"Stop, or next time I will hit the target", he called down to us entirely relaxed and I was almost willing to laugh. He was alone after all. At least I thought so because in front of us appeared five soldiers, all of them training their weapons on us.
"And now?", I whispered to Connor, who probably would have fled over the roofs already, if I wasn´t with him.
"Are you still able to run?", he just asked me and when I nodded hesitantly, he murmured: "Then run", before he pushed me to the right, where another alley led into the darkness. Connor himself ran to the left. I heard the soldiers call out angrily, but obviously they were so surprised at first that they didn´t follow us in an instant. I ran through the alley, heard another call behind me and shortly afterwards the sound of feet hitting roof tiles to my right. I raised my eyes and smirked when I saw Connor, running easily along the edge of the roof.
"To the right, follow the alley and then to the left. I will wait for you there", he called out to me, before he quickened his pace, jumped over a narrow street canyon and disappeared on the left side of the street. I always feared that someone could slit his throat, but wasn´t concerned when I saw him risking a broken neck like that. Probably because by now, nothing about Connor surprised me anymore.
I followed his instructions and listened, if someone was following me. But until now everything was silent, but only until I had turned around the last corner Connor had mentioned. Now I stood in the middle of a backyard and from the street nearby, I could hear the voices of the soldiers who were searching for us. But I couldn´t get away from here. The backyard was a dead end. Either I ran to the street and into the men´s arms, or I ran back the way I had come from. But Connor had said that he would wait for me here, but I couldn´t see him anywhere and the voices were getting louder.
"Damn it", I murmured and crossed the backyard with slow steps, looking up to the roofs. Had Connor fallen down? Or had I made a wrong turn? No. Because when I just lowered my eyes, I saw an arm shooting up from a haystack next to me, before I was grabbed by said arm and was pulled into the haystack. An appalled sound was stuck somewhere on the way from my throat to my lips, when the hay´s stalks tickled my face and tried to penetrate my mouth, nose and ears. Snorting I tried to free my mouth and nose at least, but I wasn´t able to raise my arm. Connor was practically laying on top of me, his elbows propped beside my head and his nose only millimetres away from mine.
"Be quiet", he murmured and I frowned irritated.
"But I´m not eating hay", I growled and made Connor utter an annoyed snort. The hay around us rustled, when he raised his arm slightly and ran his thumb over my lips. He stroked the stalks away, which stuck there, but in this moment I really had the feeling that sometimes there were two different Connor Kenways. The assassin, who was sometimes a bit rough and uncouth, without any sense of sensitivity, but also the gentle and very affectionate man I was sharing my bed with and whose touches I was always enjoying immensely. That didn´t mean that I couldn´t enjoy the assassin´s closeness. In the contrary. I loved everything about Connor after all. But did he have to stroke over my lips, as if he was sharpening his blades?
"Ouch", I uttered, when a short ache ran through my upper lip and I turned my head away from him.
"I just wanted to help", Connor grumbled sourly and turned his head to the side, too. In the end, the rough assassin just meant it well.
"Thank you", I murmured conciliatorily, lifted my head a bit and kissed the corner of his mouth. I felt how it rose slightly, but Connor´s voice was still grouchy, when he ordered me to stay silent. So we stayed in the scratchy haystack for a while and waited for the soldiers to give up the search for us.