Thanks to anyone who is actually reading this. Thanks to the people who have this on their faves or alerts list. And to my silent readers if there are any... I hope you enjoy this story.
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Chapter Four: Trouble is Never too Far Away
Jacob wasn't the type of person who could sit still in one place for too long. He was a man of action, and sitting around waiting only made him more restless. Without realizing it, his fingers started drumming on the surface of the table. He wanted to be out there on the streets right now looking for more people to recruit to their noble cause, but he had to wait for Evie and Henry to return from their meeting. The Rooks were currently cleaning themselves up so he was here on his own and bored out of his mind.
He looked around the bar. Every table was filled. The locals had come here to forget about their miserable lives by drowning their sorrows with alcohol. Although it was only midday, some people already looked as if they had one too many drinks. Towards the eastern corner was a group of five men and two women. One of the females, a blonde with wispy long curls, was seated on a man's lap, his arms laced around her waist. The man brought his face in towards her chest, and kissed the spot between her breasts, eliciting a satisfied high-pitched squeal from the blonde woman.
Jacob looked away, annoyed. Relationships were a big mystery to him – he never quite understood why someone would want to sacrifice their freedom to be with someone else. His sister often tried explaining it to him, claiming that the sacrifice of freedom opened the doors to other feelings and experiences, but he found it to be a waste of time.
It wasn't as if he hadn't tried before – twice he had tried forming a relationship with a female, but both times had left him feeling quite empty inside. The first girl that caught his interest was a brunette who worked as a waitress at bar. He had been sixteen at the time and had just sworn his oaths to the Brotherhood, a year after his sister had. The waitress had invited him over to her place one night to spend some quality time together.
The time had been cut short thanks to the surprise arrival of her elder brother coming home. Words and insults had been exchanged, punches had been thrown, and a few minutes later, Jacob had knocked out the waitresses' brother. Needless to say, she had not been impressed, and chased him out of the house, swearing she'd call the authorities should he ever talk to her again.
His second failure happened at the age of eighteen. By this point, his sister had claimed the title of Master Assassin shortly before their father's ultimately death. Despite not having had the best relationship with his father, Jacob did mourn his loss, and took it much harder than Evie. He had spent many long hours at the tavern, taking out much of his inner frustrations on unfortunate drunks at the bar. It was then he met a woman called Clarice who claimed to know how he felt.
Again he had found himself in some bedroom with some woman he had only known for less than five hours. She wanted to talk about her feelings and take things slow, but that clashed with his ideas. He wanted action; she didn't. She had thrown a pillow at him, called him a few names (jerk, asshole, bastard to name a few), and Jacob, being the type to never back down when threatened, retorted with a few insults of his own.
From that day on Jacob decided women were just a distraction, and he paid them little attention. He found a fist fight far more satisfying than sex; at least there was some sort of reward to be had in his experience. He drank the remaining contents of his drink then sighed, leaning back in his chair, eyes turning towards the clock. Only thirty minutes had passed since Evie and Henry had left. Recruiting Charles and the gang hadn't taken as long as he had originally assumed. This was going to be a long thirty minutes.
"Could you please stop that?" a man said from the table behind.
Jacob turned around. A man with shaggy brown dark hair with a hooked nose glared at him. "What? This?" He continued drumming his fingers on the table to further agitate this man who apparently didn't like it. The man's scowl deepened. Jacob just smirked. Perhaps this wait wouldn't be so painful after all.
"Yes. That."
"What if I don't want to?" Jacob replied.
"Then I'll crush yer bloody hands," the man snarled.
Jacob snorted. "Somehow I don't think you'll succeed."
"And what makes you believe that?"
The man's companion, a woman with sparkling blue eyes and short black hair, rolled her eyes. "Leave him alone, John. He's obviously one of those of those poor fools from the slums. A disturbed lot they are." She waved a hand in the air as if swatting away a pesky fly. "They're like rabid dogs, I hear."
John nodded. "Yes, this one does look a bit like a wild beast. I say the Seven Bells is just not what it used to be. They're letting in all sorts of people through their doors." He turned up his nose and gave a disgruntled snort. "Come let us leave this place, Belinda. We'll return another day when there's less filth around." He rose from his chair then stretched a hand out to his companion. She took his hand, cast Jacob an annoyed look, and allowed her partner to guide her out of the room.
Oh no, he wasn't having any of that. No one walked away from him, not until he had the last say in the argument. He looked for something to use as a weapon – yelling at the man wouldn't do much. No, he had to make it look dramatic. His eyes landed on his now empty mug. Perfect. Wrapping his fingers around the handle, Jacob lifted it up then threw it at the man's back.
He had a lot of practice at throwing his kukri at moving targets so hitting the man required little effort. As expected, his target turned around, his dark eyes burning like black fire. The mug crashed to the floor, shattering into hundreds of tiny pieces. That caught the attention of everyone else in the room. The bar fell silent. All eyes were fixed on the duo.
"You jerk!" the woman screamed. She glared at her partner, eyes blazing. "What are you doing, John! Don't stand up for this nonsense! Teach this scoundrel a lesson!"
"Come on, John, defend your honour," Jacob taunted, unable to stop himself. He stood up and moved away from the table, flexing his fingers, ready to teach this apparent upper-class snob a lesson. Thank goodness Evie was distracted or else she would've dragged him out of the bar by the ear.
John growled, curled his fingers into fists, and strode towards him. "You fucking prick!" With a grunt, he lunged forward.
Idiot, thought Jacob. No wonder the Templars had such a firm grip on the city. He stepped to the left, and the man stumbled forward, arms flailing. Jacob moved up behind him, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt then smashed his head into the side of the table. John slumped to the floor.
"John!" Belinda screamed. Rushing to her partner's side, she dropped down and checked for a pulse. She held her hand against his neck then drew it back, turning her attention up at him. Her face scrunched up, and Jacob knew tears were soon to follow. It was the exact same face Clarice had used when she had thrown a pillow at his head. "You asshole!"
In the corner of his eye, he spotted the two guys watching them earlier on, rise from their chairs. The guy in the green coat looked easy enough to take on, but the guy on the right, the big bald man, looked to be a bit of challenge. That was fine by him. He liked challenges. Made the day so much more eventful and it tested his skills.
"Stop this nonsense at once!"
Just when things were about to get interesting, Jacob thought sourly. He turned to face the source of the voice and spotted the bartender strolling towards him, lips pressed into a thin line, his thick brows furrowed. But it wasn't the bartender who worried him – he spotted someone far more terrifying. His sister.
"Fuck," he mumbled.
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"What do you want to know and why should I tell you anything?" Clara said.
They were standing in a small room out the back of the bar. There was single brown table in the centre of the room, placed upon a colourful red carpet. A painting of a battle against armed knights hung above the fire place, and below it, was the words, 'Nothing is true. Everything is permitted'. Evie lifted a brow, but remained silent. They were the maxim of the Creed. Why would a bar have those words?
"Seven Bells is the most popular bar in London," Henry started. "We're new to this city, and we'd like to know more about it. We were told the Seven Bells was the number one place to come for information."
Clara held a hand out. "Give me a pouch of gold ones and I'll tell you what I know." Henry dug a hand into his robes and one out. He looked a reluctant to hand it over, but he knew better than not to. Clara happily snatched it from his hands, hid it beneath her shirt then gestured at the table. "Take a seat."
Henry walked over and pulled out a chair for Evie. She thanked him then took her seat, as Henry sat down in the char next to her. Clara sat on the opposite side, wrapping a finger around one of her pigtails. "What do you know of the Templars?"
"What are your names? I'm Clara."
"Joseph."
"Jennifer."
Clara's eyes moved back and forth between the pair. The corners of her mouth curved upwards into a knowing smirk. "Are you like together? As in, partners, lovers?"
"No," Evie responded tonelessly.
The girl frowned, as if she was disappointed. "Templars come and go. Sometimes they come here to get drunk like everyone else. Some days they come here to ask questions. It's always new faces too. Never see the same Templar twice," she explained. "I listen to them. Sometimes I get close and pickpocket. They're part of a gang called the Blighters."
"The Blighters?" Evie repeated.
"Yeah, that's what I said."
"Can you tell us more about them?"
Clara shrugged. "Only if you tell me what your real names are." Henry and Evie remained silent. The girl sighed. "Oh come on, I know you're not just common citizens." She cast a glance in Henry's direction, eyes focused on his robes.
"What do you think we are?" Henry said.
"Assassins, of course!" Clara exclaimed. "Common people here don't dress up like that, and believe me, I've seen a lot of poor fashion choices." Her face brightened. "It's the only reason I agreed to talk to you both. Your people are the only ones that would understand our plight here. So… can I see it?"
"See what?" Evie remarked.
"The really cool hidden blade, duh! Don't you people like have knives under your sleeves?"
Evie was beginning to think this was a bad idea. The girl might've had a lot of information, but she had a very excitable personality, and seemed more interested in their equipment than the actual situation at hand. "I'm Evie, and this is my friend, Henry. You mentioned the plight here. Can you tell us more about these Blighters?"
"Can you show me your hidden blade?" Evie laid out a hand on the table then pulled the sleeve on her left arm back, revealing her gauntlet. Clara leaned over the table, gawking at the item, as if she was looking down at a large pot of pounds. She reached out a hand and trailed a finger down it. "How does it work? Is there a trigger?"
"Yes," Henry offered. "Curl your middle finger towards the centre of your palm and you'll find the trigger switch.
Evie did exactly as Henry described, and the silver blade thrust forward. Clara jumped back, startled. "Wow, that's so cool! I've always wanted to meet Assassins before! I've read all the history books! Altair, Ezio, Connor… they're so dramatic! I really didn't like that Haytham and Shay though – I mean, they became Templars. Why would you do that?"
"As interesting as it is to reflect on history, would you mind telling us more about these Blighters?" Henry said. "We can't help you if we don't know what we're up against."
"Oh, of course! Well, you see, there's this woman called Bloody Nora. She controls the Blighters. There's seven gangs in each of the districts in London. I currently only know the names of one of her lackeys… don't know the other five yet."
Bloody Nora. Her brother had mentioned the name earlier in the day and was planning on meeting her here tonight. Perhaps this could be a chance to better learn more about the enemy… that is, if her brother didn't reveal his true intentions. If he was convincing enough, Bloody Nora would recruit him and then he'd be shown the location of the heart of the Templar Order here in London, making the mission of wiping them out that much easier.
"Have you seen her?" Evie said.
"Oh, she comes here at least once a week," Clara said. "A real piece of work. Got quite the stomach on her too. She can drown more mugs of ale than my father and he won the Championship last year."
Evie rubbed her chin. "She recruits people here, doesn't she? No one would suspect a thing." Offer employment to poor desperate people, promise them lots of wealth and protection, and use them as her eyes and ears. It made her wonder just how many allies the Templars had. Anyone in this bar right now could be a spy.
"How do you plan to take them down? I mean, I know Assassins are powerful, but you're facing an army. The Blighters are thugs – they're a street gang after all. You won't manage to get very far in your mission if you don't know the game."
For the first time during the conversation, Evie smiled. "I need to introduce you to my twin brother."
"Twin Assassins? Never heard of that before."
Henry leaned forward. "You mentioned you knew one of the names of Bloody Nora's lackeys… What was it?"
"Robert Strain. Uptight fellow. Likes to show off his Templar allegiances as clear as day on his clothing," she said. "You'll know him straight away. He likes to walk with a swagger in his stride. Holds his nose up high and pins his shoulder blades back." She looked to the right then groaned. "I want to talk to you both more, but we're going to have to end it here. We close the bar for an hour to prepare it for the night… That's when it gets real exciting."
"What do you mean?" Evie said.
Clara grinned. "You want to see what happens during a drinking contest? Drop by tonight at seven. Hey, wait, I've got a better idea – you can both sleep here! My father will be overjoyed. I mean, actual Assassins here in London in our bar. You can like protect us from danger."
The girl certainly liked to talk a lot. Just listening to her talk was enough to make her feel tired despite not having actually done anything physically demanding. "That'll be great, thank you," Evie said. "I'll just find my brother and-" Her words were interrupted by a loud noise which sounded much like glass hitting the floor. Either it was caused by a drunk or her brother had something to do with it. She was leaning towards the latter.
"Evie."
"I know, Henry."
Henry didn't say anything else. If her brother had found himself in trouble, then she was going to be the only person who could stop it. It was just fortunate her brother was only in the room next door and not on the other side of town. As she walked through the doors leading back to the main dining area, she heard a man shout.
"Stop this nonsense at once!"
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