Great Inagua

A sultry heat hung over Kingston, even in the afternoon, announcing an upcoming thunderstorm. But the bureau was pleasantly cool. Only sparse sunlight fell through the cracky shutters that were tightly closed in front of the stained glass. It painted fine lines on the floor and the walls and created a faint shimmer because of the dust floating in the air. The contact, a slender man with a bushy black beard and dressed in dark Assassin robes, led Caleb and Connor through a wide hall that was only equipped with some blankets and pillows on the floor. Beside it, the office seemed overloaded. Shelves at the walls, full of folios, scrolls and writing equipment, and a long table in the centre, surrounded by eight empty chairs. It was quite sparse, appeared run down and Connor wasn't sure if he should be disappointed. He imagined it differently. Houses like this were supposed to be shelters for assassins. They came here for information about their missions, to prepare and to rest.

Connor had always worked from Davenport, alone and never dependent on other assassins. This bureau was the first of its kind he was visiting and it didn't meet his expectations which he hadn't known about until now. The Caribbean brotherhood was still active. After his experiences in the London hideout, where the assassins had been living in exile, he had expected to find something less run down.

"Have a seat", the contact said and pointed at the empty chairs. "May I offer you something to drink? Some lemon water, maybe? Quite refreshing in this heat."

Connor simply nodded and reached out a hand, to grab Caleb by his collar as the boy just wanted to pull a scroll out of one of the shelves. Caleb protested but sat down beside Connor on an empty chair.

"You must be our brother from Boston, are you not? Connor, if I remember correctly." The other assassin hadn't noticed Caleb's short fit of curiosity. He was standing by a small table, pouring a cloudy liquid from a decanter into three mugs which he had prepped with some peppermint before.

"I am", Connor answered since a nod wouldn't be noticed this time and pushed his hood off his head. "And this is my protégé Caleb. So you received my message?"

"I did." The assassin turned around and put the two mugs in front of them, before taking the third and sitting down. "But for now I should serve some civility since I know your names. I am Joseph Tully. Head of this bureau, as you can tell." He smiled and put his mug to his lips. Connor followed his example. Not exactly out of courtesy but because he was very thirsty and felt an unpleasant ache in his throat. The thick fabric of his robes was always quite unpractical in warm weather and wearing the hood didn't help in this matter either. Something he could easily ignore when being on a mission or even a fight. But now Connor was grateful for the shadowy interior of the house and the drink's pleasant coolness. It tasted quite sour as expected from lemon-mixed water but combined with mint it was refreshing and reviving. Connor hardly noticed that he was gulping it down, having emptied it the first time he put the glass down. Joseph smirked, grabbed behind himself for the decanter and topped off Connor's glass, who thanked him with a nod.

"In your letter, you were quite vague about your intention to come here", Joseph said as Connor took another, slower sip. "So what is it that brings you to us?"

Connor put the glass down, ran his hand over his mouth and grabbed for the bag on his belt. He hesitated shortly and asked himself how much he could tell Joseph without speaking to the Grandmaster of the Caribbean Brotherhood first. But Joseph was a brother and his only contact until now. So his fingers loosened the bag from his belt and he put it on the table whereupon Joseph's eyes turned curious.

"It is a Piece of Eden", Connor explained but didn't open the bag. Rather because he distrusted the Apple more than he distrusted Joseph. The other man's eyes widened and he leaned forward as if he could get a better look at the covered object like that.

"Where did you get it?"

Without immediately answering the question, Connor grabbed for the two leather bands around his neck carrying the keystones. He put them beside the Apple.

"It was difficult to obtain them but they led me to the Apple", he simply explained. "A Mayan told me they belong to an old temple and this temple is where the Apple is supposed to be brought to. I do not know where it is and hoped you could help me."

He was aware that this information was only a fraction of all the incidents leading him here. But Connor didn't feel like he had or wanted to share every detail and luckily Joseph didn't ask any further. He only furrowed his brows and nodded slowly.

"I understand", he murmured. "It's good that you turned to us. I don't know much about the Mayans but there are a few among our brothers who do. Some being Mayans themselves. I am sure they could help you on your search for this temple."

The assassin's dark robe rustled quietly as Joseph stood up and turned to one of the shelves behind him. He grabbed for a piece of paper, an ink pot and a dishevelled feather and sat back at the table. The feather scratched over the paper as he wrote down some letters and numbers. Coordinates, as far as Connor could tell.

"The existence of the island itself is not a secret", Joseph explained and handed Connor the paper. "But that it is our brotherhood's home island is. So be careful when you travel there. Take a detour if necessary and watch out for pursuers before getting closer to the island. It's not even half a day's journey away. I will send a pigeon to announce your arrival anyway. I will describe your ship so that you don't have to worry about any unpleasant surprises."

A strange smirk appeared on Joseph's lips that Connor couldn't read and that made him frown. Still, he described the Aquila to Joseph, watched the other assassin writing everything down on another paper and they finally rose from their seats.

"Thank you, Joseph", Connor said and shook his hand after taking back the keys and the Apple. Joseph smiled. "That's what I'm here for, Connor", he said. "That's how our brotherhood operates."


"Land ho!"

One day later, the call echoed over the Aquila's deck and only confirmed what had been already visible on the horizon. They were finally approaching the Assassin's island. After Connor and Caleb had returned to the ship, the boy had accompanied Connor into his cabin where they had spread a map of the Caribbean Sea on the desk and had used the coordinates to look for the island. It was charted, though unnamed. It was a speck of land close to the southwestern tip of Cuba. The route was easily planned since from Jamaica, they only had to sail between Haiti and Cuba but Connor had considered Joseph's warning and had planned a small detour. He would have liked to depart immediately but hadn't wanted to ruin his crew's shore leave so they had spent a night in Kingston bay before setting sail in the late morning hours. Now it was past noon and the sun was searing from the sky, making the sea shimmer like a mirror.

"Do you see anything?", Connor asked his first mate who was standing beside him and searching their surroundings with the long glass. Faulkner had kept looking for possible pursuers but hadn't reported anything. Even now he shook his head.

"Nay. All clear", he murmured and turned the glass towards their destination. He whistled. "Blimey! I think you should have a look at this, Captain."

He handed Connor the long glass which he put to his left eye and looked over to the Assassin's island. At first, he only saw thick, green leaves but as he moved the long glass more to the left, he saw what had caught Faulkner's attention. The masts of three ships. Two brigs, just as the Aquila and a big frigate. He could hardly make out how well the ships were armed but still, it was a remarkable sight.

"So they have their own small fleet", he murmured and put the long glass down, whereupon he had to blink to adjust to his own, limited eyesight. Were these the surprises Joseph had talked about?

"Well, it seems indispensable if you have to jump from one island to another", Faulkner said smirking but as Connor looked at him, he was sure to see melancholy in the old man's eyes. Years ago he had sailed the Atlantic with the Aquila to secure a route between the former colonies and Europe, connecting the brotherhood's branches there. She had become the Assassins' fleet flagship, the Templar fleets' nightmare, the "Ghost of the North Seas", as Faulkner kept telling with pride. The sight of this fleet must remind him of this glorious era. But it brought up many different emotions in Connor as well. There, just ahead, on this island was a strong, established and well-armed branch of the brotherhood like he had never seen it before.

"Shorten the main!", Connor shouted to the men on deck who immediately followed his order. "We are going to approach them slowly. In case Joseph's message did not reach them, I do not want to risk that they think we are attackers. Caleb?" The blonde boy, who had dangled his arms over the quarterdeck's railing, straightened up in a jerk and turned to Connor who handed him the long glass. "Keep an eye on them and tell me when they set sail."

Caleb nodded eagerly and Connor had both hands free to grab the steering wheel. A strong wind had gripped the Aquila, pushing her closer towards the cliffs ahead of where the Assassins' ships lay in a secured bay and Connor had to bring the Aquila on the right course to avoid a collision with the rocks which made it more difficult to pass through. Connor tried to calculate whether it was safer to stay right or left from them. The Aquila was slim but he couldn't tell if there were any underwater obstacles on the right side. So he steered to the left and gave a sigh of relief as the Aquila passed the rocks without any problems and side winds. The ships inside the bay were easier to see now, as well as the inconspicuous wooden huts and footbridges, looking like a small but well-structured harbour. Behind it were even more houses. A small village.

And only Assassins live here, Connor thought and felt a certain awe, but most of all he was curious. How were they organized? How did they live? How did they train? Achilles had told him little about life in Davenport when it had been inhabited by Assassins. These memories had been painful for his mentor and so Connor had never pushed him to tell him more. But here - he was sure of it - all his questions would finally be answered.

He gave the order to prepare the Aquila for landing and steered it to a free footbridge beside the impressive frigate. The workers at the harbour, who had been as small as ants before, were easier to detect and their calls echoed through the bay as they announced the strange ship's approach. But it wasn't alarmed calls, as Connor noticed. When the Aquila slowed down and got closer to the footbridge, Connor looked at the men and women who put down their work, curiously watching their arrival and even waving at them. Some men came running to the footbridge to catch the ropes the Aquila's crew threw at them as the ship finally came to a halt.

"That's what I call a warm welcome", Faulkner said smirking. "Seems like they got the message."

Connor simply nodded while pulling away from the steering wheel and slowly climbing down the stairs to the quarter deck, looking at the harbour and the houses beyond. Then he regarded the people at the harbour, nodding at them as they greeted Faulkner and him when they left the Aquila. None of them was carrying any weapons or was wearing the robes or anything else that would have marked them as Assassins. Neither the men nor the women. Some of the latter came prancing to the ship to make clear advances to him and the crew members following him. Were they courtesans?

"Mr. Faulkner, you have seen my charts, right?", Connor asked his first mate as he had just politely but firmly declined an offer for some "relaxation after the long journey" and made their way further down the landing stage. "Did I confuse the islands?"

"Well..." Mr. Faulkner smirked back at the women, some of them already having linked arms with crew mates of the Aquila. "As far as I can tell, the coordinates and the position on the maps matched. And I would guess these young folks over there are training novices and no brawling kids."

Faulkner pointed at a spot on the broad and long beach which hadn't been visible from the Aquila. There, precisely marked out was some sort of arena where a group of six children, girls and boys in the age of eleven to fifteen years, had gathered. They were all wearing the same plain grey linen trousers and shirts and red scarves around their hips and were cheering on their two mates who were challenging each other with wooden daggerboards. Inside the arena but leaning against one of the fences was a man in white robes. His hood pushed back, his arms crossed in front of his chest and watching the two fighters. Faulkner was right. This was the right place and the closer they got to the houses beyond the beach and the more attentively Connor was watching his surroundings, the more Assassins he noticed among the men and women he had considered normal town folk. Not all of them were wearing the traditional robes and those who did were going without their hoods, just as he did when he was in Davenport. Others you only recognized by the insignia on their clothes or the leather bracers with the Hidden Blade on their forearms. Connor realized that it had been naive of him to think he would immediately recognize all the Assassins on this island. This place was the same to them as Davenport was to him: Home. Where they had to hide from no one and where they could lead an almost normal life. The tavern close to the harbour was good proof of that. Men and women who didn't look like they belonged to the brotherhood sat with male and female Assassins, enjoying a cool drink and a lively conversation. Everything wasn't as Connor had expected it to be, but he hadn't seen all of it, yet.

The wooden landing stage led past the tavern, over the beach and ended in a wide road which led up to the small village. Connor and Faulkner stopped and regarded the simple buildings made of wood and straw roofs. To their left was the harbour master, and to their right a general store, probably the only one in this settlement. All the other buildings seemed to be normal houses. Plain and simple, especially when you looked further right and up the cliffs. There was a snow-white villa. With large windows and even a small tower. An almost lavish building compared to the rest of these houses. He wondered if the Assassins were stationed there.

"Well, if that isn't Bobby Faulkner."

Connor's eyes moved back to the path ahead of them where they were approached by a blonde woman, dressed in the typical robes of an Assassin. Her armour was simple. Beside her hidden blades, she was only carrying a pistol on the leather belt around her hips, which was decorated with the Assassins' insignia. She looked him up as well, but her friendly smile turned back to Robert Faulkner, who looked at her with small eyes and a cocked head.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but do we know each other?"

The woman chuckled. A quite low sound for a woman, Connor thought. "Well, I'm not surprised you don't recognize me. It's more than thirty years ago and I was a young girl back then. Consuela Palves."

Connor heard Faulkner repeating the name until he finally seemed to remember who the woman was. His eyes widened and he uttered a short, barking laugh.

"Consuela Palves! Of course. How could I not remember one of the brats who used to climb through my rig?"

Consuela smirked. "Well, your methods to scare us away aren't forgotten either. But don't mind me saying that I am surprised to see you. Shouldn't a man of your age be sitting on a small island and letting the sun warm his old bones?"

"A true man of the sea is never too old, lass." Faulkner laughed and ran his hand through his grey beard, before nodding at Connor. "Still I'm handing the work over to the whippersnappers just as this one."

Consuela nodded and gave Connor a friendly smile which he answered with a nod of his head.

"I guess you are Connor. Joseph already told us about your arrival. I am really happy to meet you", she said and laid a hand on her chest. "As you heard, my name is Consuela Palves. Grandmaster of our Carribean brotherhood."

"Grandmaster?" Faulkner raised a brow and smirked. "So the brat really did grow up."

"She did." Consuela chuckled and pointed towards the village behind her. "But before you keep dwelling on past unpleasanties I suggest we get inside. You're not here for nothing after all, am I right?"

She was and Connor was glad as they finally moved on and Consuela led them down the road. He felt like the Assassins, they walked by, looked at them even more curiously, now that they were accompanied by the grandmaster. Connor pretended that he didn't notice and had a look around their surroundings. It could have been a settlement like any other if it wasn't for the training areas or the small sheds where they stored all sorts of weapons and gear Assassins used. He saw it as they passed one of these inconspicuous sheds which was just opened by a small group of young novices. Connor wondered if his brothers and sisters could show him any new weapons or techniques. He made a mental note to get acquainted with the local masters and maybe watch their training. Achilles had always told him that a man's apprenticeship was never over and Connor saw his stay as a chance to acquire knowledge and skills he could pass down one day. When he asked Consuela, if he could get involved, the Grandmaster nodded.

"Of course. But you should be prepared to answer many questions as well." She smirked and looked down at Connor's left bracer. "For my part, I am wondering why you're only carrying one blade."

The assassin followed her gaze and grimaced. He felt bad for being asked about this significant hole in his armoury by a grandmaster of all people.

"I used to have two. Both of them Pivot Blades." As for confirmation, he let the Hidden Blade snap out of the bracer and activated the mechanism to let it rotate into his hand so that he was holding it like a dagger. "Unfortunately the other got a bad hit that broke the mechanism. I could not twist it back in and since our blacksmith and I are lacking the necessary knowledge, we could not repair it. I have got used to one blade ever since."

The metal clicked and scraped quietly as the blade slid back into its position inside the bracer.

"Well, I think we can help with that", Consuela said winking. "Our blacksmith had schematic for different types of blades. I am sure he can make you a new blade and give you a copy of the schematic. Then you don't have to worry about future damages anymore."

"That would be great. Thank you."

The grandmaster waved his gratitude aside. "You don't have to thank me. As long as you are here, you can feel at home. I have to admit: Until your message reached us, we thought you were a myth that may be spread by the Templars to confuse us. After all, we thought Achilles was dead. How is he anyway?"

With this question, Consuela had turned to Connor and he lowered his eyes as he thought of his mentor and especially the loss. Even Faulkner had uttered a noise that had sounded like an uneasy harrumph.

"He died a few years ago", Connor explained shortly but firmly and raised his eyes again to look at the path ahead, that led to a stone wall lining stone steps. It ended in another path that was leading to the villa.

"I am sorry to hear that", Consuela said and her words sounded sincere and sad. "I spent four years of my youth under his care in Davenport. He was always a fair but firm mentor."

Connor simply nodded. There was hardly anything he could reply and he didn't want to talk about Achilles either. Even if he was interested in how Consuela's training had looked like back then. But she didn't keep talking about it but seemed to be lost in her own, sad thoughts.

This expression only disappeared as they followed the path beyond the stairs to a stone archway and towards the house. It really was a stately mansion which Connor hadn't expected in a place like this. It had high gables, and magnificent decor on the veranda's porch. Even the site was pretty generous and Connor noticed that he hadn't been wrong with his assumptions about the local Assassins. To his right, behind a wooden fence and between broad trees were two arenas and on one of them, a man and a woman duelled each other in a fistfight. An unfair fight, it seemed, given that the man was much taller and seemingly stronger than the woman, whose petite frame reminded Connor of Lillian. But as the Assassin that she was, she had no trouble turning these weaknesses into her advantage. She was quick and agile, kept dodging the man's strikes only to place her own precise hits. Connor watched them passing by, just as the men and women lounging beside the arena or in the trees' shadows.

"You can join the training, should you find the time and motivation", Consuela said smiling as she noticed Connor's look. "Everyone of us, from the novice to the master, is open to competing their skills with the others. This way, we stay in training, even learn something new and mend our social connections." She chuckled and nodded at the two fighters. "These two, for example, are engaged and if they can't compromise, they duel each other. Maybe not entirely seriously, but afterwards, they always fall into each other's arms and everything is forgiven and forgotten. Unusual, right?"

"At first glance, yes", Connor said and kept watching the couple. The man just blocked her fist with a hand, before it could connect with his jaw. Connor could hardly imagine that it was possible to end a fight like this and still end up in each other's arms. Maybe it seemed so unusual to him because he could hardly challenge Lillian for a fistfight. He didn't mind, though. She was quite hotheaded and her tongue could be sharper than his blades, but he rather have it that way than have to end their fights with their fists. No matter how seriously you took these fights. And still, they had always found ways to make up.

Consuela led them up some stone steps to the porch and from there through the broad double wing door into the house. Mr. Faulkner whistled quietly as they found themselves inside a wide, sunlit room. White wooden pillars carried the high ceiling, adorned with two crystal chandeliers. They seemed to be meant to illuminate the long table in the centre of the room, almost reaching the other side where some Assassins were lounging in cushioned chairs. Now curiously eying the newcomers.

"You must be well off if you can afford such kind of interior", Faulkner said in amusement and ran his calloused fingers of the leaves of a fern in a hip-high vase beside the entrance. Consuela only shrugged and smirked.

"It already was like this when the island was given to us. Before we came here, it belonged to a Templar called Du Casse, who seemed to have a taste for extravagance. After his death, Great Inagua became a pirate hideout. The settlers here are descendants of these pirates and when we came here, we agreed on living together in peace and it works perfectly fine til this day."

Consuela had led them into a big study, closed the two winged doors behind them and stepped to a small table to prepare drinks for herself and her guests. Connor used the opportunity to have a look around the room that was as lavish as the rest of the house. Shelves full of documents on the walls, weapon racks full of polished exhibits beside them, as well as tables with model ships. The broad desk was in the centre of the opposite side of the room, elevated on some kind of platform in front of a panorama window, looking straight out to the cliffs and the sea behind. It didn't look like a regular study but radiated the authority of those using it. Like Consuela, for example.

After she had handed one glass of cold apple wine each to Faulkner and Connor, she walked up the steps to the platform and behind the desk.

"Have a seat", she offered with a gesture towards the two chairs in front of her desk. For the first time, Connor really got the feeling of standing in front of someone of officially higher rank in the brotherhood than him. The fascination he had felt for Great Inagua made room for discomfort. Since Achilles, no one had been above him and all the decisions he had made had been his alone, as well as the consequences. He wasn't used to it and although Consuela had done nothing to show off her rank and put him under any kind of pressure, he felt uneasy.

His instincts told him that he could count on the brotherhood, despite what he had experienced in London. They would help him bring the Apple of Eden to where the spirit of Those Who Came Before wanted it. That's how our brotherhood operates, Joseph had said about this support and what he had seen of the island so far was proof of familial solidarity. They would certainly help him but Connor realized they would also carry the consequences with him. He had seen the people of this island. All the Assassins. Could and did he really want to risk burdening them with his task and the dangers of the Piece of Eden?

"Connor?" Consuela's voice tore him out of his thoughts and he raised his eyes that had followed his hand, moving to the bag and the Apple inside. The grandmaster gave him a friendly, open smile, tilting her head to the side. Her blue, intelligent eyes almost looked caring. Honestly caring and Connor felt like she had read his thoughts.

"Whatever led you here and whatever is worrying you: It worries me, too. Tell me why you're here and how we can help and we will."

And Connor - after he had sat down - told her everything. How he had gotten the keys. About the message they had contained. How he had found the Apple and how he had found out what he had to do. He also told her why he needed the Assassins' help. That he needed information about the Maya to find the temple. Consuela listened attentively, never interrupted him and nodded slowly as he ended his report.

"I assure you we will help you as well as we can. I will make you acquainted with the brothers and sisters who know about the old Mayan temples. You can start your search soon."

"Thank you."

Relief. For the first time, since he had the Apple in his possession, he actually felt relieved. To expect help was one thing. To actually receive it another. Especially since this was the first time he would have the unrestricted help of the brotherhood he had dedicated his life to, without ever really knowing it as a community. Now they would have to show him if they were worth the trust he had always put into them.