Hello everyone :)

From this chapter on, I decided to write chapters from Connor´s point of view from time to time or when it is useful. In the long run it becomes a bit boring, if I always write that he leaves for a mission, Lillian waits for him and when he returns, he tells her everything. I think it´s more exciting to read (and write) the action itself instead of the conversations about the action. I hope you enjoy. :)

Reviews:

tina: Don´t worry. ^^ It´s okay when you don´t write reviews to each chapter. I´m not angry about it or something like that. In the contrary. Thank you for still reading the story and I´m glad you like it. :)

My family belongs to me

Connor

After two weeks on sea, the Aquila reached her destination: The harbour of Savannah. The oppressive, sultry heat intensified the stench of train oil, fish and other things Connor didn´t want to identify. Even Robert Faulkner wrinkled his nose when the two men stood by the Aquila´s rail and looked to the city.
"On days like this, I know why I don´t like to sail into the south", the old man mumbled and ran his flat hand over his sweaty forehead. "This air is unbearable."
"But the winter here is said to be very pleasant."
Faulkner laughed. "If you mean with pleasant that you don´t have to fear that you fall face down into the deep snow, when crawling home drunk, you´re right. But I favour our winter in the north. After that you know how to value the spring and summer."
Connor smirked about these words. Although he knew that he would never fall drunk into the snow, he understood what Faulkner meant. He preferred the severe winter at home, too, but they weren´t here to philosophize about Savannah´s climate. There were more important things to do.
"Do you know someone who could help us finding the house?", Connor changed the subject and leaned his back against the rail, so that he didn´t have to look into the low sun anymore. Mr. Faulkner did the same and crossed his arms in front of his broad chest, shrugging his shoulders.
"Nobody of whom I know that he is still alive. But there is a popular tavern nearby. The innkeeper always knows everything and his ale isn´t bad either." A whimsical smile appeared on his lips.
"Do you recommend the ale or the innkeeper to me?", Connor asked amused and gained a wink from his first mate.
"To you the innkeeper, to me the ale."
That was what he had thought.

Shaking his head but smirking, the assassin pulled away from the rail and nodded at the crew who was already preparing for leaving the ship.
"Tell the men they should not drink too much. It is possible that we will leave tomorrow."
"Aye, Captain. No booze-ups, no orgies. Understood." Faulkner clapped his hands once, before he went to the crew members while Connor entered his cabin. His thoughts were already focused on his plan. He had to find Raymond Jarvis, no matter the price. The criminal had plied his dreadful trade long enough and now that the templars were searching for him, too, Connor wanted to make sure that he was finally gone. At first he had wanted it for the people of the former colonies. He had wanted to prevent that more settlers and townspeople got harmed. Connor had never taken the hunt for Jarvis personally, even when it had come to light that he was Lillian´s half-brother, because she had never been in danger. But Jarvis had made it personal when he had intruded into their house and had endangered Emily´s life. Back then Connor had already wanted to kill him, but every opportunity had been refused to him. But since then he had no doubt that Jarvis was going to pay for it and his determination grew with every day that had passed since then, especially because he didn´t want to see anymore, how Lillian kept agonising herself with her brother´s crimes. Even though it seemed like she thought that he didn´t notice it, Connor knew how much she was suffering inwardly and it had become worse since her brother had endangered Emily.
He noticed how she stood up sometimes in the middle of the night, just to make sure that Emily was still lying in her cradle. He noticed how she threw herself back and forth in her sleep, begging Ray for giving Emily back to her and he noticed how her worried gaze slid to the forest around Davenport when she was outside, as if she was searching for her brother.
Her request that he shouldn´t spare her brother had been surprising but unnecessary. But at the same time Connor didn´t know, if Lillian really was aware of the consequences of her decision. But he was going to deal with it when all of this was over, because to spare Ray wasn´t under discussion for him anymore, even if it was going to hurt Lillian anyway. But for now he had to find him.

Connor slipped into his robes, armed himself and while he left the cabin, he pulled the hood over his head. Most of his men had already left the ship and went determined to the next taverns to satisfy their thirst for a cold ale. Robert Faulkner was still standing on the pier and raised his head when Connor stepped next to him.
"Where is the tavern?", the assassin asked and had to hold Faulkner back, when he wanted to go ahead to lead him to his destination. "I want to get an overview over the city first, before I go there. Furthermore I think it is better, if we do not appear there together, just in case if there are problems later on."
Faulkner nodded slowly. "Well then. You will notice soon that you can´t get lost in Savannah. The city is quite straight constructed, divided in several blocks. If you go towards the city from here, you turn left over there. Always follow the Savannah-River. You will come past several streets, leading straight forward into the city. You take the fourth, follow it and you will find the tavern on your own." He patted Connor´s shoulder. "Keep care of your head, maybe I will have an ale in store for you."

Connor nodded shortly, thanked him before he followed a bunch of people who had just left their ships and slowly headed for the city. He adapted their pace and melted together with the cityscape once again, while his gaze roamed over the houses which were lining his path. He had already seen the top of a church tower from the distance and had chosen it as his first destination. But already from the ground he could see what Faulkner had told him about Savannah. The houses were standing close to each other, the streets were almost straight lines and beside the fact that the buildings almost looked the same, Connor doubted that you couldn´t find your way around the city.
After a short time he was standing in front of the white built church and watched people leaving it, receiving a farewell from the priest and gathering in front of the church talking.
The shepherd and his herd, Connor thought and looked up to the church tower whose bell was still loudly announcing the end of the Sunday Mass. None of the God-fearing folks would appreciate it, if he would climb up there, so he had to do it unseen.

Slowly Connor went along the side of the building until he had reached its back. He shortly made sure that no one was watching him, before he took a short run-up and pulled himself up over a small window. After that he had to try to steady his feet and hands in even the smallest grooves in the wall, before he reached another window from where he was able to pull himself onto the roof of the church. Finally he started to climb the tower until he reached its top. With one hand he grabbed hold of the wooden cross, which was decorating the top, while his feet found hold on other wooden decorations. So the assassins stood there, closed his eyes for a moment and enjoyed the faint breeze that was blowing around him up here. The air was still warm but far more pleasant than down in the streets, where it had become an unpleasant heat. But the city itself was far away for now. The bell had already stopped ringing and so Connor heard nothing else but the quiet murmur of the wind, mixing with the sounds of Savannah as muffled background-noises. He opened his eyes and his gaze slid over the cityscape he could see from up here.
The Savannah-River, glistening in the sun and rocking the ships which were anchoring on it. Connor saw the Aquila´s masts and from there he followed the path he had come from with his eyes. From this perspective the construction of the city was better visible than it had been on the streets. Connor was able to see the single parks which were the centres of the blocks, lying next to each other as single, big squares. Never before he had seen a city that had been so precisely built. It seemed like everything had been built after a certain standard.
Almost the perfect city for templars, Connor thought and involuntarily he squinched up his face. He was going to take care of the order later, but for now Ray was high up on his list.
One last time Connor looked over the city, memorized all conspicuousness' he could use as an orientation, before he lowered his eyes and looked down the church tower. There were two opportunities for him. Either he climbed down, or he...Pleased he looked at the hay cart a farmer was just pushing to the edge of the street. The assassin pulled away from the wooden cross, fixed his eyes on the cart and jumped. He flew down, his body straight, made a half turn on half of the way and finally landed in the hay with his back first. The dry stalks sprayed to the side and Connor could hear the muffled swearing of the farmer.
"Pardon me", was the only thing he said when he rose from the hay before he made sure that he had disappeared before the farmer could cause attention.

His feet carried him directly to the tavern Mr. Faulkner had talked about. Connor opened the door and was immediately confronted by the stale air inside. The smell of ale mingled with the stench of sweating men and women who had to boil in their own juices in this heat. But as dominant as the stench were the noises. The day was close to its end and so the tavern seemed to be full to the last seat. They talked, they laughed and shanties were sung and some of these noises came from his own men. Connor found the crew of the Aquila gathered around a single table, each of them had a mug of ale in front of them. It was obvious that they had already drunk more than he had actually hoped. But as long as Connor wasn´t the only one who was able to prepare the Aquila if it was necessary, he didn´t care for now. He was just glad that the crew wasn´t loudly commenting on his entry. He saw that they lightly raised their mugs into his direction and he nodded barely noticeably while he made his way to the bar. Behind it stood a corpulent man, with a stained apron and a black full beard, which was almost shaggier than Noirs fur. Wordlessly he banged a mug onto the bar and wanted to fill it with ale, when the assassin put his hand onto it.
"Thank you, but I am not here to drink", he explained and saw how the innkeeper raised a bushy eyebrow.
"You won´t find whores here", he murmured and put the mug away. Connor shook his head.
"I heard you could tell me something about Raymond Jarvis. They say he owns a house here."
The innkeeper snorted and a distrustful expression flitted across his face. "Whoever told you that had to be a boozer. Do I look like everybody´s gossip?"
Connor had expected that it wouldn´t be so easy to talk with the innkeeper. When he just wanted to wipe the bar with a rag, the assassin grabbed into a pouch and pulled out some coins. They clacked quietly when he put them onto the wood. The innkeeper froze and seemed to be counting the coins already, before he reached out his hand for them. But Connor laid his flat hand over the money, whereupon the innkeeper gave him a grim gaze.
"Raymond Jarvis. Where is his house and what can you tell me about him?"
The innkeeper shortly licked his sweaty lips and kept staring at Connor´s hand that was covering his desired money.
"Do you mean the guy who´s always running around in a cape and of whom everyone is saying that he´s looking like a moth-eaten coat underneath it?"
Connor nodded silently and lifted his hand. The innkeeper grabbed the coins in an instant, counted them and let them disappear in his apron. His gaze moved into all directions, before he leaned forward to Connor in an almost conspiratorial manner. A sharp stench of sweat met Connor when he leaned a bit forward, too.

"This guy bought the house a year ago. No one really knows where he´s from and how he´s earning his money. He says he´s a merchant from London. Liked to wave around under your nose with his damn golden ring, as if one of us is supposed to know his family name. Anyway, he stored much junk there, also asked a craftsman to repair everything. He even hired a maid and a gardener, but until now no one really lived in the house and the guy himself is rarely there."
"Do you think he wants to move in?"
The innkeeper shrugged his shoulders. "One of the craftsmen said that he´s always talking about settling down with his family here, but until now no one has seen a wife and a child with him. I´m doubting that he has something like that, if you ask me."
No. Connor was quite sure that Jarvis wasn´t married. He had other priorities and neither he had said something about a family. At least not about one he had started himself.
"Is he in town at the moment?"
The innkeeper squinched up his face about this question and shook his head. "The last time he has been here was two months ago. Ordered a carpenter to build a cradle and left again. I still don´t think that he has children. Neither a woman who would let him touch her."
"A cradle?" Connor frowned and his gaze slid to a stain of beer on the bar. He got a feeling that didn´t want to be to his liking. Jarvis talked about a family he didn´t have. He certainly had no child he could lay into the cradle either. But maybe it wasn´t his child that was supposed to sleep in it.

"Where is the house?", Connor asked and already pushed himself away from the bar to turn around in an instant.
"By the Percival Square. It´s the one with the Tomo-Chi-Chi-monument. The stone pyramid. It´s right in front of it. Is the only one with an iron fence."
Connor nodded, shortly thanked the innkeeper and had left the tavern shortly afterwards. He had seen the monument the innkeeper had talked about from the church, so that he knew where he had to go. The sky over Savannah darkened more and more while Connor quickly walked through the streets. He was still thinking about the innkeeper´s words. So Jarvis was passing himself off as a merchant. Probably the merchant his father had been. But Connor was more worried about the family Ray wanted to bring to Savannah. There was only one family he was always talking about and certainly Connor wouldn´t allow that they came here. Into the house he reached at this moment.
It was a white wooden house with high gables and big windows. A high, broad oak stood in a well-tended front garden and let its moss covered twigs hang over the path that was leading to the veranda and front door. If Connor hadn´t known it better, he would have thought that no one was living here. But despite of the vanishing daylight, the windows were dark and he couldn´t see anything that could have indicated the presence of occupants. Nevertheless, or maybe exactly because of that, he had to go inside. Connor looked carefully to both sides to see if someone was watching him and finally climbed agilely over the high fence that was surrounding the property. In the shadow of the oak he approached the front door and picked its lock to slip into the house.

It was deadly silent. No sound reached Connor´s ears, neither from the ground floor, nor from the first floor. The house was empty and still someone must have been here. Probably the housekeeper the innkeeper had talked about. Everything was clean and tidy when Connor wandered through the ground floor and looked through the rooms. No particle of dust was on the floor or the shiny polished furniture. Everything was looking like the occupants were going to return home soon, if there weren´t the empty storage room and the cold hearth. Connor crossed the hallway of the ground floor again and stopped in front of a door. The only one that was closed. He pushed down the handle but it was locked. A few moments and skilled hand movements later, Connor heard a quiet click and could finally open it. It led into a study, at first sight full with much junk. Crates full of household goods, room decorations and other objects, certainly stolen goods Ray had removed for himself. Connor didn´t want to think of how many houses the gang had attacked to make such a big haul.

With a last look at the crates Connor went to the broad desk in the centre of the room. There was nothing on it that drew the assassin´s attention, except of some meaningless letters. At least until he searched the desk´s drawers, too and found a wooden casket in the last one. Connor took it out, put it onto the desk and opened its lid. It was full to the brim with letters and when Connor flicked through the stack, he saw that they were all addressed to only one person. To Lillian. Each letter was dated and they went back to the year 1776, the year when Ray moved to America with the British army. The latest letter was only one month old. Lillian´s brother had written all these letters and never sent them. Shortly Connor was tempted to skim through a few of them, but he didn´t. No matter what he was feeling for Ray at the moment, it was wrong to read something that wasn´t meant for his eyes. But after a short moment of hesitation, he took the letters out of the casket, folded them as good as possible and let them disappear inside his coat, before he put the casket back into the drawer and closed it.

Once again he looked through the study, but finally left it. He went upstairs and opened one door after another. But most of the rooms were empty. Only one of the last rooms was furnished and again Connor got a bad feeling when he entered it. It was a bedroom, with a broad bed, a dresser, a commode and a washstand. It wouldn´t have caught Connor´s attention, if he hadn´t known who owned this house and what the innkeeper had said. Because next to the bed stood a cradle, filled with things you needed for a child. Clothes, napkins, even toys. Prepared as if the child, who was supposed to be treated with it, was still expected. The washstand and the dresser appeared prepared as well. On the washstand were a hairbrush, a hand mirror, a jewellery box and a powder compact. They were lying tidily next to each other, but were unused. Inside the dresser were several dresses, fine robes among them, as if they had never been worn. Everything in this room looked like it was waiting for its occupants and by now Connor was sure who was supposed to be them.
Not as long as I have the final say in it, Connor thought grimly and turned away to leave.

Taking several steps at once he ran downstairs and had left the house shortly afterwards. Quickly he crossed the now dark streets of Savannah and was greeted by Mr. Faulkner with a surprised gaze, when he entered the deck of the Aquila.
"Already back, Captain?", the first mate asked and his light slurring didn´t escape Connor´s notice.
"Are the men able to prepare the ship for our departure?", he asked shortly without giving Faulkner an answer. Faulkner frowned.
"Already? I thought you wanted to depart tomorrow morning at the earliest."
"I want to depart now. We have to get home. Tell the men."
It seemed like Faulkner became sober all of the sudden when he heard the tension in Connor´s voice. His expression became serious and he nodded, before Connor turned away and went into his cabin. Shortly afterwards he was standing behind the wheel of the Aquila and brought the ship on its way up the Savannah-River and to the open sea. Faulkner stood next to him and propped his arms on the railing of the quarter deck while he looked his captain over. He was staring straight forward.
"What did you find out about Jarvis? Was he in town?"
Connor shook his head. "The house was empty, but it really looked like it is prepared for occupants."
"Do you think this bastard is going to live there alone?"
"No. The innkeeper in the tavern told me that Jarvis is preparing everything for his family, but I know for certain that he neither had a wife, nor children. His only family are Lillian and his mother, if she is still alive."
Faulkner frowned in confusion. "Apart from his mother, he can´t think that Lillian would come with him, can he?"
"I fear so." Connor looked at Mr. Faulkner. "On the first floor I found a bedroom, obviously prepared for a woman with a little child. Everything was ready. Dresses, hair brushes, jewellery. I want to think that Jarvis has a wife and a child, but I think it is unlikely. He has always insisted in front of Lillian that they are a family and need to stick together."
"And now you think, he could be on his way already to take her with him?"
"He is a fanatic. Maybe I did not find out where he is at the moment, but I am sure that he will return to the homestead sooner or later and if he does, I want to be there."

It took two more weeks until the Aquila finally dropped anchor in the bay of Davenport. Connor had spent this time restlessly because he feared that Jarvis could have returned already to take Lillian and Emily away somehow. He doubted that Lillian would go with him willingly and so Connor was also concerned that her brother could do something to her, if she defended herself. Jarvis had a confused mind and was capable of anything.
So no one on deck was wondering when Connor left the ship and hurried to the manor, no sooner than they had dropped anchor. The backdoor almost slipped off his grip when he pushed it open, but he didn´t care. Connor glanced into the kitchen, where the fire in the hearth was quietly crackling like always, but the room was empty. He only noticed the basket with fresh vegetables and fruits on the table, together with Lillian´s headscarf. If she wasn´t taking care of Emily at the moment, she would have put the content of the basket into the storage room already. So Connor ran upstairs and into the bedroom, but nobody was there either.
"Lillian?", Connor shouted into the hallway, hoping that he had failed to see her somewhere in the house. But he got no answer. It was totally silent. Connor swore quietly, ran downstairs and left the house through the front door. His next destination was the stable and when he at least saw Caleb there, grooming the Shetland pony, he felt something like relief. When Caleb was here and was well, Lillian couldn´t be in trouble.

The blonde boy turned around to Connor, when he noticed him from the corner of his eye and a wide smile appeared on his lips.
"You´re back already!" He reached out an arm and pointed at a tree, where he had hung up several wooden plates which were dangling in the wind. "I used the time to practise archery. Like you told me. Shall I show you?"
Connor forced himself to smile in face of Caleb´s unshakable euphoria, but he shook his head. "Not now. Do you know where Lillian is? I could not find her inside."
"She left a few minutes ago. A man was with her, but I don´t know where they wanted to go."
"A man? Did you know him?"
When Caleb answered this question with a shake of his head, Connor felt this restlessness again. He clenched his fists and looked to the path which was leading to the homestead. Caleb felt this change of mood and became restless himself.
"Should I have stopped them? The man had no cape, so I thought..." He paused when Connor shook his head.
"It is alright", the assassin said shortly and looked at the boy again, whose eyes were full of fear. "Which direction did they choose?"
"I only saw them going to the homestead. I don´t know more."

Connor´s answer was a short nod. Without saying another word, he turned away and started to run, when he headed for the homestead. Was it possible that Ray had sent someone from his gang to get Lillian? But why did she go with him? If she had been threatened, Caleb would have mentioned it. Unless it had been a more subtle threat, because Caleb hadn´t said anything about Emily. What if someone had taken the little one before and now Lillian had left to get her back? Connor shook his head, as if he could get rid of this thought like that. He had to find her and not lose himself in such thoughts. But he wasn´t sure where to start his search. But soon it came to light that it wasn´t necessary. He just passed the church of the homestead, when he saw Lillian coming up the path in a short distance. She had Emily with her and it looked like she was alright. But still Connor quickened his steps and the last time he had been so relieved to see Lillian was when he had found her in Philadelphia. But this time she had a bright smile on her lips when she saw him, too.
"You´re back already", she said when he had reached her and reached out a hand for Connor, which he took into his. "Have you been successful? Did you find him?"
Connor silently shook his head and looked Lillian over. Now she appeared disappointed, almost dejected.
"I hoped that you would find him", she murmured and looked at Emily, who she was carrying in her arms and whose head was resting against her shoulder. Obviously she was soundly asleep.
Connor put a hand under Lillian´s chin and made her look at him. "Are you well? Caleb told me that you left with a man. Who was it?"
Lillian frowned and cocked her head. "It was Ted, Maria´s maybe-fiancée. He wanted to visit her, but didn´t meet her at home. So he knocked on our door and asked me for the way to Ellen´s house. I brought him there. Why are you asking?"
"But did you meet anyone else over the last weeks who had been acting strange?"
Lillian slowly shook her head and a worried expression appeared in her eyes. "Why are you asking all of that? Did something happen in Savannah?"
Connor didn´t answer immediately but wrapped an arm around her and carefully pulled her closer, paying attention not to clamp Emily between Lillian and him.
"I will tell you everything later", he murmured and kissed Lillian´s forehead. He was incredibly grateful that his fears hadn´t become true and that they were still here and well. But he still expected that Lillian´s brother was going to come here. But then Connor would expect him and keep him away from her. No matter what Jarvis had thought up in his mad mind, first and foremost Lillian and Emily were Connor´s family and no one was going to take them from him. Not at any price.