Chapter Eight: Calm before the Storm

Disguising themselves as Templars was an easy task; all she had to do was change out of her clothes and dress up as a commoner. Henry changed out of his garbs as well, replacing them temporarily with the garments a Templar had donned. The plan was simple - pretend to be Templars and hope whoever entered the room was gullible enough to fall for their disguise. The Rooks had dragged the unconscious bodies into the kitchen, and stuffed them inside the cabinets.

"What do we do about your brother?" Henry said.

Evie glanced down. He was fast asleep on the floor, a pile of bloodied cloths besides him. Picking him up wasn't an option. She thought hard, contemplating the next action to take. Well, he did look half dead. He was still pale so there was a chance he could pass for a dead man… or a drunken passed out fool. She could weave a tale, and inform any arriving Templars the troublemaker had foolishly shot himself. Hopefully, the plan worked otherwise there'd be no other option than to kill them all.

"Pretend that he shot himself during a drunken rage fit and hope the Templars fall for it," she suggested.

Henry raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure that's going to work?"

"We can only hope."

She headed towards the front counter and leaned her back against it, pretending to play it cool. Henry headed over to the entrance, poked his head around the corner and looked both ways. The Rooks remained in hiding to ensure the Templars didn't try to escape. "Carriage arriving from the right. Only one I can see. We might've gotten lucky," Henry reported. "It's that time of the day where most of the taverns are filled with customers… Noise might've drowned the gunshot out. Pretend to look busy – a few men are climbing out."

Evie looked around, searching for something to do. She first thought about serving drinks then remembered she was dressed up as a Templar, and not a common local. Instead, she moved to her brother and made sure the cloth around his arm was wrapped firmly around it. Jacob had been fortunate – if the bullet had moved just a slight inch to the left, it would've made contact with bone. What could've been a disastrous situation had been averted.

Footsteps caught her attention. Sparing a glance over her shoulder, she spotted two lanky males enter. They didn't bear the symbol of the Templar Order, but they carried themselves in the same manner, with shoulders pinned back, and noses held up high. Both men were dressed in black tailcoats and wore black helmets on their heads. The local police force.

Up until now, she hadn't concerned herself with the police. They might have been indirectly linked to the Templars, but they didn't wear the colours of the Order, which made them untouchable in her eyes. That was one of the most important tenets of the Creed – never harm an innocent. Even her brother could understand that basic teaching. He might've roughed up a few innocents when angered, but he never murdered them. Innocent until proven guilty… unless you were a Templar of course then you were automatically guilty by association in the eyes of her brother.

The policeman scanned the room. "We heard a gunshot," the first man said, turning to face Evie.

Evie nodded. "A drunk, sir," she explained, jerking her head towards her brother. "We were here on a routine check and arrived in good time. This man fired a gun as a cruel joke. You know what these drunken fools can be like."

"He looks like he's been shot."

"He shot himself, sir. Drunk, remember? The gun has been safely removed."

The policeman's eyes shifted back and forth between the pair before he finally nodded. "Some people shouldn't be allowed to touch alcohol… Ah well, you both arrived at the right time. Without your help, these streets would be overrun with idiots like that. He could've killed himself, and that would be one more grave for us to dig." He cast Jacob a distrusting look then smiled at Evie. "You be careful out there now. I hear there's a murderer of Templars roaming the streets."

Evie put on a fake smile. "Thank you for the concern, but we'll be fine."

The policeman brought a hand to his chin, playing with the strap that kept his helmet secure atop his head. "Well, it seems like you have this under control anyway. You tell Bloody Nora the police are grateful for this alliance."

"I'll be sure to pass the message on."

"Farewell to you then."

The pair turned their backs and walked out of the bar. Once gone, Evie exhaled a deep breath, thankful to have gotten out of that situation. Lazy gullible police. No wonder they had allied themselves with the Templars. It made their jobs that much easier. She met with Henry's eyes, and noticed his brows were furrowed, his lips pressed in a thin line. That look read, 'I don't like this'. It was often reserved for her brother whenever he opened his mouth. "So now we can confirm the police and the Templars are working together. Just what we need."

"It makes perfect sense. Who knows the law better than the ones who are responsible for upholding it? I wouldn't be surprised if the police are supplying Templars with weapons and ammunition," Henry explained, hand rubbing his chin. "We'll need to be extra careful. We're not just dealing with Templars anymore."

"Which means we'll need to always plan ahead before we take action," Evie replied. That would mean ensuring her brother stayed out of trouble. He wasn't exactly known for being subtle. With the police and Templars working together, taking control of the streets would be much more difficult. Thanks to her brother's antics, the police would double up their guard to ensure such incidents didn't happen again.

"Exactly," came Henry's response. He then sighed. "I warned you against this. I knew this was going to happen, but you insisted… And now here we are. You're playing a dangerous game, Evie. One wrong move and we lose. You're now responsible for the lives of the men and women you recruit. If they die, their blood will be on your hands. Can you live with that?"

Tough question, but he raised a fair point she hadn't taken into consideration earlier. They were now responsible for lives other than their own. The Rooks were part of the family now, or at least an extension of it. She was no stranger to death – throughout her life, she had witnessed many deaths, often dealt by her hand. But this would be different. The Rooks were allies. These were the people they had sworn to protect.

"Evie?"

She pushed a loose strand of hair behind her right ear, and nodded. "No one will die under my watch."

"I hope for you and your brother's sake those words remain true."

.

Pain. So much bloody pain. Even the slightest movement sent a shudder of pain running down his arm. His head throbbed, his legs refused to move, but the worst was the fucking pain in his upper left arm. It was as if someone had stabbed him with a knife countless times over. With a groan, he forced himself to sit in an upright position.

The room was a mess. It reminded him of the time he had argued with his father about something petty. Naturally, it ended in an argument. He had retaliated by throwing and breaking anything he could his hands on until his anger died down. That was when his father helped him direct his anger elsewhere – at fighting Templars.

Introducing him to the Brotherhood was supposed to help him with his anger problems, but instead it opened to the doors to street fights. It started off with relieving stress by beating up the neighbourhood bullies then quickly turned into starting fights for the thrill. He couldn't help it – as soon as someone threw an insult his way, he'd be on them in a flash.

Wait. Was that blood? On his coat? He pushed aside his thoughts for a brief moment, examining the blood on the floor and on his clothes. There was a cloth firmly wrapped around his arm, as well as a pile of bloodstained cloths to his left. That's when he noticed a bullet nearby. He had been shot? Well, that would explain the blinding pain in his arm.

"Jacob!"

He jerked his head towards the sound and spotted both his sister and Henry rushing towards him. For once, she wasn't scowling at him. "Sister. Henry." But where were the Rooks? Dammit. He forced himself up from the ground, staggered a little, and almost toppled over. Fortunately, his sister was there to support him.

"You've lost a lot of blood, Jacob. You shouldn't exert yourself."

"I'm going to find whoever did this, and I'm going to kill them."

Evie shook her head. "You won't be killing anyone for a couple of days, dear brother. Besides, we've dealt with the Templars, so you don't have to worry about them. You should be more concerned about your recovery." She tried to lead him towards a chair, but he refused to budge.

"Not until I find him," he growled back.

"Sit," she said.

He pushed her aside with his good arm and sauntered towards the entrance. He was going to find the prick, beat him to a pulp then recruit him after proving his dominance. The more men he had under his wing, the better the chances of taking control of London. All he had to do was-

"Jacob Frye, sit down now."

He stopped a metre short of the doorway. Whenever his sister used his full name it meant he was in deep trouble. Never mess with Evie Frye. It was a lesson he had learned the hard way shortly afterwards having joined the local Brotherhood of his hometown. The plan had been to embarrass his sister by beating her in a play fight in front of the other Assassins. The result? She defeated him, and he had to clean up after the horses for a week as punishment for not taking his lessons seriously. From that day on, he knew never to overstep that boundary with his sister.

"You can't expect me to sit here and do nothing," he whined. What did she expect him to do? Sit around the bar and do nothing but reflect on past events? Or did she expect him to sit down and listen to her plans while he pretended to care, nodding every few seconds to show he was listening? He was a man of action! He looked to Henry for support. "Don't tell me you agree with her? We need to be out there now!"

Henry shrugged. "Sorry Jacob, but your sister is correct. Sit down, so we can talk properly about our future plans."

So, Henry was supporting his sister then. Funny that. Since when did they get on so well with each other? Although Henry always had a tendency to side with Evie on almost everything because agreeing with Evie meant disagreeing with him. He grumbled. "Fine." He walked towards a table and sat down. "I want a drink."

"That reminds me, you haven't been introduced properly to Paul and Clara yet," Evie said.

"Paul? Clara?"

"Henry?"

Henry nodded. "I'll be back shortly."

He headed towards the back entrance of the tavern leaving Jacob alone with his sister. Again, Jacob couldn't help but feel like he was missing out on something. Did Henry enjoy his sister's companionship? He hadn't missed noticing Henry always looked to his sister first for an opinion. "You came back to the bar. How'd you know I was here?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't listen." She leaned back in her chair, eyes resting on his face. "If I had been just a few minutes late, you might've lost that arm of yours. Now instead of complaining, why don't we discuss what we're going to do next?"

He poked at the cloth on his arm. "How many days do I have to keep this on?"

"Depends on you. Stay out of trouble, and you should recover within a few days."

Great. A couple of days of lazing around at the Seven Bells. Oh well. At least he'd have the Rooks as company. Speaking of the Rooks, where were they anyway? He needed them to keep him sane for the next couple of days. As much as he loved his sister, another day of her prattling would drive him up the wall. "By any chance, do you know where the Rooks went? You can't have missed them."

"They're cleaning out the back," Evie answered. "I've already had a chance to talk with them."

"And? What did you think?"

"They seem all right."

"You don't sound terribly convinced."

Shaking her head, she sighed. "Circumstances didn't allow for us to properly meet. We'll just have a party later on so we can swap names."

"Great!"

"I wasn't-Nevermind." She looked at his arm. "How are you feeling anyway?"

"Sore. A little irritated, but alive."

Henry returned a few moments later, accompanied by the bartender and a young girl with pigtails. He frowned at the girl. She looked familiar. Hadn't he seen her a few days earlier whilst the carriage trip with Mercutio? What on earth was she doing hiding in dangerous alley way all alone? As soon as the bartender noticed him, his eyes widened. "This is your brother?"

"In the flesh," he replied with a grin.

The man brought a hand to his forehead and shook his head. He murmured something to himself which sounded suspiciously like, 'I need to find a new a job.' The girl on the other hand, looked delighted to see him. "Oh, he's so cute!"

Cute? Jacob raised a brow, unsure whether to take that as a compliment or be insulted that it had come from a young child. "Thanks, I guess?"

Clara tugged on her father's arm. "Dad, these are the Assassins I was telling you about earlier! They've come here to help us!"

Wait. This girl knew they were Assassins? How was that even possible? Jacob turned to his sister for an explanation. She just responded with a casual shrug of the shoulders and mouthed the words, 'just listen'.

"Assassins?" the father repeated. He looked sick. Jacob couldn't quite blame the man. The guy had almost lost his bar because of him. "…and they told me life would be easier as I became older…" he muttered. "You want a drink?"

Jacob nodded. "Yes."

The bartender nodded and walked off, still talking to himself about having to visit a doctor this time. Once he was gone, Evie started to talk. "They've agreed to help us out," she started. "Clara provided us some information about the Templars earlier on in the week whilst you were busy recruiting. The Templars are called the Blighters, and Bloody Nora is their leader. She has her lackeys. There's six of them – one for each for the remaining six districts in London."

"Then we can take them all out, one by one," Jacob said. "I can take them."

Henry shook his head, folding his arms. "We don't even know where to find them, let alone know where their exact hiding places are. Let's not forget that you're outnumbered."

Jacob shrugged. "We'll recruit more Rooks then."

"Easier said than done," Henry replied. "There'll be more police on patrols now after this incident. Gangs will be harder to find. You're going to have to search every alleyway in London to find some allies, and I'm sure you'll be met with some resistance."

"Then we find these hideouts and take them by force," Jacob replied. "We kill the leaders and the strongholds will become ours for the taking. It's all so simple."

"…Only that's it's not as easy as you claim it to be," Henry countered. "London is a big place. We'll need transport to get from district to district quickly, and your men don't wear the gauntlets we have."

The bartender returned with a single black mug of ale. Jacob helped himself to it immediately, took a swig then set it down. "We'll take the carriages for ourselves. Fuck paying a fee every time. Should've thought of that earlier… Would've saved me a fair bit."

"Stealing carriages?"

Again, he shrugged, slightly confused. "What's the big deal? You said it yourself – our guys haven't been trained like us. If they're going to help us win, then we'll have to travel using carriages. Do you know how much they charge? A fucking fortune for a short ride! It's cheaper getting a mug of bloody ale down at The Thistle's Crown."

"Boys, both of you, drop it," Evie said, sending a glare in his direction. Of course she'd blame him for starting it. "What's obvious is that we need to be careful. We can't expose what we are to the public. If the Templars receive word that we're Assassins they'll be much harder take down."

"And the police?"

"Leave the police to me. You can handle the recruiting efforts."

He smirked. "As soon as my arm has healed, the boys and I will start the hunt."

Clara cleared her throat. Right. Clara. He had forgotten about her. "I can help. I know this city better than the three of you combined. I hear things. People tell children stories all the time because they think I don't understand what they're saying. I know a man called Robert Strain is arriving tomorrow to visit Bloody Nora."

Jacob gave his sister a hopeful look. "It's worth checking out. Have to know the face of the enemy before we strike, right? Don't want to kill the wrong guy." He took another swig then rose up from the chair.

"Where are you going?"

"Finding this Robert Strain prick."

Evie climbed to her feet. "Not today you are. We'll head out tomorrow."

He sat back down again. Night had fallen. Many of the shops would probably be closed now anyway. "Fine. Will Henry be joining us in our adventures?"

"I think I will actually. It would be nice to see a bit of London."

"While you're out tomorrow, could you buy me some cleaning materials?" the bartender called. "You do owe me for bringing trouble into my bar, and for making a mess. If you three are going to stay here, you're going to help out. I don't care if you're Assassins – you will help me clean up."

Jacob grunted. He hated cleaning. That was one of Evie's many specialties. "Yeah, sure." He paused, then, "Rooks!" he barked. A few moments later, his group of five men came scurrying out of whatever place they were hiding in, looking a little bit nervous.

"Yes, boss?"

"Help this man clean up the bar." Before the bartender could reply, Jacob strolled towards the kitchen area. There was a flight of stairs in the corner leading to the upper level where the beds were. Why clean up when someone else could? Besides, the Seven Bells was now the home for the Rooks as well.

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Evie said, glancing at his arm again, as they walked up the stairs.

The blood had long since stopped, but he could still feel a lingering pain. At least he was able to walk on steady legs again. He also didn't like his legs were going to give way beneath him anymore. "Yeah, I'll be fine." There were six rooms upstairs – three on the left, and three on the right. Each room had an identical murky brown door. He took the one on the far right, while his sister took the one opposite. Henry settled for the room on the furthest left on Evie's side.

Placing fingers around the doorknob, he turned it clockwise then stepped inside, closing it behind him. It was a quaint little room with rose wallpaper. There was also a strange musky odour of something he couldn't quite describe. The only furniture in the room was a dark brown three drawer cabinet pushed up against the eastern wall. On the surface of the cabinet were a few candles, a jug and a bowl. Above it was an old photo of what he suspected was deceased family members.

The bed was opposite to the cabinet. Like the room, it was also small, and less extravagant than what he had back in his original home. The bed didn't even have curtains around it – instead, it was a simple thing with white linen sheets and pillows. Truly a working class room. Not that he minded. He'd hardly be spending much time here anyway.

He put his hat on the bed head and immediately climbed on top, pulling the sheets up towards his chin. Closing his eyes, he thought of the events that tomorrow would bring, before finally drifting off to sleep.