Farewell and Welcome

Connor

The last days and weeks rushed by and were filled with preparations and precautions that had to be made. The Aquila's condition was checked, as for every long journey, the supplies were stocked up and the route was planned and talked through with the crew. Connor gave instructions to his assassins in Boston and New York, just in case something happened during his absence or the Templars should make any troubles and then there were some homestead matters he wanted to take care of. Oliver and Corrine would have an eye on Davenport's businesses and keep the journal, as they always did whenever he was away or had no time to do it himself. Whenever he could, he would help in the homestead because while he was preparing for traveling into the warm South, Davenport was awaiting winter and the first snow. But Connor's most important task before his departure was to make sure that Lillian and Emily were taken care of. Since he would take Caleb with him, they would stay behind alone and even though it wasn't unusual, Connor was worried since this was the most difficult time of the year. He had spent the last weeks chopping firewood so that Lillian wouldn't have to worry about that and he assured himself with the help of the lumberjacks' sons who had already worked in the stable, whenever Caleb and he had been gone and Lillian hadn't found the time. She had watched all his preparations partly amused, partly skeptical.

"We managed to survive in the past", she kept saying and Connor could hardly contradict. But he felt more at ease when he could make sure of it on his own before leaving his family behind for an uncertain amount of time. It took away a part of the burden that was the upcoming farewell. He didn't show it, but every time he had to leave, it was hard for him. No matter where he went or for how long. It used to be normal for him to travel a lot and he had left Davenport and had come back however it had pleased him without thinking about how long he was gone. This had changed with Lillian, Emily, and Caleb. He had finally understood what it meant to settle down and have a family. The family was like the roots of a tree, running deep into the ground and spending strength and life. Even when you left, you were bound to it, but it was a good type of bond. To care for it and protect it was a responsibility but also a privilege Connor was proud to call his own. So he was only pleased when he could be sure that Lillian and Emily would ask for nothing during his absence.

Finally, the last night before his departure had arrived and Connor left the Aquila after a final check and walked up the muddy path to the manor. Snowflakes were drizzling down the sky and melted as soon as they touched the ground. Right now, the snow was only a thin, icy layer, making nature look like it had been sugar-coated. Grasses and plants were still keeping their heads up, but maybe in a week or so, they would be buried in snow and laid to rest. The icy wind, which preferred to sneak into your collar and sleeves was already announcing the white splendor and made you go to bed in anticipation of a morning busy with clearing work. Connor only hoped that the snow would take its time until the Aquila had left for the open sea.

When he entered the house through the backdoor, he was welcomed by the pleasant warmth coming from the still-cracking fire in the kitchen's hearth. One look into the room showed him that it was empty and already cleaned up. There was only the scent of the roasted meat and vegetables Lillian had made for dinner. Now she was certainly upstairs, bringing Emily to bed and he wanted to wish his daughter a good night before she fell asleep. He slipped out of his muddy moccasins, put them beside a chair in the hallway, and hung his wet coat over the backrest before making his way upstairs. He carefully opened the door to Emily's room and found his wife and their child as expected. Emily was in her mother's arms, drinking from her breast while Lillian spoke quietly and gently to her, holding the tiny hand in her own and running her thumb over the back. A sight that made him believe that there was no deeper love than the love between a mother and her child and he felt a certain pride because these two belonged to him.

Quietly, to not disturb them, he stepped inside and caught the smile Lillian gave him before turning back to her daughter, who was just pulling away with a quiet smack and gave a hearty yawn, as if being fed had bereaved her of all her strength.

"So your father can bring you to bed, then", Lillian whispered as she lifted Emily to her shoulder and gently stroked her back. Connor had stepped to the chair and carefully took Emily into his arms when Lillian handed her over. Even after almost two years, it felt strange to hold this little creature in his arms. She still seemed as fragile as glass and still he enjoyed it and knowing that Emily did the same was a wonderful feeling. As always she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head against his shoulder, where she gave another hearty and squeaky yawn. He carried her to her bed and gently laid her down. Emily opened her eyes blinking, looking up at him as he put the blanket over her and gave her her doll, which had been waiting for her on the headrest. She was tightly embraced and buried underneath Emily as she rolled onto her side.

"Well, this was almost too easy", Connor heard Lillian whisper as she stepped behind him, laid a hand on his back, and looked at Emily. After her first night in her own room, it had taken a few weeks until Emily had finally understood and accepted the situation. But this didn't mean that she always liked to be put to bed. Sometimes she had managed to slip past her parents into the hallway and had enjoyed running and hiding away and despite her short legs, she was amazingly quick. But today it seemed like she didn't feel like playing. She only stretched out an arm for Connor.

"Baba?"

He smirked and kneeled down beside the bed so that they were almost at eye level. "Do you want me to stay a bit longer?", he asked quietly and ran his fingertips through her silky hair. She felt for his hand and grabbed his index finger as if she could hold him like this. He took it as a yes and was happy about it. From tomorrow on, he wouldn't be able to bring her to bed for quite some time. To tell her stories and watch her fall asleep. Something he had learned to love, especially since she was sleeping in her own room.

Lillian's hair tickled his cheek as she leaned past him to kiss Emily's forehead, whereupon she put her small hands on Lillian's cheeks as if she wanted to pull her in for a kiss of her own.

"Good night, my little angel", Lillian whispered gently. "I'll leave you two alone."

Her fingertips brushed the back of Connor's neck and he nodded at her before she went to the door and left the room. She knew how important the bond with his daughter was to him even though he wouldn't have expected her to leave. But it gave him time alone with Emily and he was grateful for every minute.

His daughter grabbed for his hand again and again she only got hold of his index finger, She pulled at it as if she wanted to make him turn his attention back to her. Her eyes were already halfway closed, she was almost falling asleep. Connor dropped the story he had wanted to tell her and found a more comfortable position on his knees. He leaned forward, placing his cheek on the mattress, his face close to Emily's. He was still caressing her hair and watched her eyes getting smaller with every gentle touch.

"Ho, ho, watanay", he began to sing. A song his mother had used to sing him to sleep with. He still remembered her gentle voice and could almost see her lying beside him, caressing his hair. Just as he did with Emily now. Sometimes he wished they could have met.

"Ho, ho, watanay. Ho, ho, watanay. Ki-yo-kin-a. Ki-yo-kin-a."

Only five lines he kept repeating while Emily closed her eyes and finally fell asleep. He kept singing until he let his voice grow quiet with the last lines and stopped. Connor carefully leaned forward, gently kissed his daughter's forehead, and whispered: "Konnorónhkhwa, Tsiktsinenná:wen."

He lovingly watched the sleeping girl's face and already knew that he was going to miss this peaceful sight just as much as he was going to miss her. So he stayed a little longer, as if he wanted to memorize every detail of her face until he finally stood up, extinguished the light, and left the room.

In their own bedroom, Lillian had changed by now and was now sitting at the vanity, slowly running her brush through her dark brown locks. She looked at him through the mirror when he entered and closed the door and a smile appeared on her lips.

"She fell asleep quickly today", she said and Connor nodded, stepping to the chair in front of the flickering fire in the fireplace and began to undress.

"Chasing after snowflakes with Caleb and Noir seems to have tired her more than she expected herself."

Lillian chuckled and her gaze slid to one of the windows where the curtains were tightly closed. "Do you think the snow will cause problems tomorrow?"

"Not as long as it does not get more." Connor had already put his shirt over the backrest and let his leggings follow. Only then he noticed that they were covered in mud, causing stains on the white shirt. "The snow will only hinder us if it makes it hard to see anything and bring out the Aquila safely", he explained while putting the leggings in front of the fireplace to dry them. He would brush them off in the morning but Lillian would have to wash the shirt. Luckily it wasn't the only one he owned.

"Then let's hope that the weather stays like this until you are on the open sea." Lillian had braided her hair for the night as usual, extinguished the light, and stood up to step to him. She noticed the stains, too, and grabbed the shirt with a frown. As she looked at Connor, he must appear so guilty that her indignant expression made way for an amused smirk.

"Someday your daughter, Caleb and you are going to be without clean clothes to put on because I cannot wash them fast enough", she said and hit him with the shirt against his bare chest. The fabric's touch was nothing more than a gentle caress since she didn't put any strength into the strike. Still, Connor grabbed the shirt, wrapped it around his wrist in a quick movement, and pulled Lillian closer in a jerk. Surprised, she stumbled and fell, as intended, against his body where he held her tightly, wrapping his free arm around her hip. Her hand lay flat against his chest as she tried to pull away, raise her head, and look at him. Even the flickering light of the fire couldn't hide the blush on her cheeks when his gaze caught hers. As if this was the first time they were so close. Sometimes Connor wondered if he was still making her so nervous like in the beginning, but he also remembered these initial feelings of nervousness, but also excited expectation when they stood close to each other like now, looking into each other's eyes and waiting for whomever to make the next step. He hoped that this would never fade.

Connor was the first to lower his eyes to her lips as she opened them slightly, closed them, and finally opened them again to speak.: "I am cold. Could you…put another log on the fire?"

His eyes moved back to hers and noticed the amused and likewise cheeky spark in them. By now, it took her less time to overcome her nervousness.

"Of course", Connor replied calmly but without letting her go. He leaned forward instead, as if he wanted to kiss her, and noticed that she stood on her toes and closed her eyes. But instead of putting his lips on hers he lifted his head again and kissed her forehead. Lillian's breath left her nose in a huff and he couldn't stop the satisfaction of seeing her sulking expression when he pulled away to follow her request. The years with her had taught him to understand her teasing as such and return it from time to time. Something he had never been able to do before.

Lillian crawled under the warm blanket while Connor grabbed two logs from beside the fireplace and put them into the crackling flames. He used the poker to push ash and wood further into the fireplace watched the fire blackening the wood and enjoyed the warmth on his bare skin. Each night got colder and with this in mind, Connor began to worry about how hard winter was going to be this year.

"Have you been there before?"

He blinked as Lillian's unexpected question tore him out of his thoughts and threw a questioning glance over his shoulder. Lillian was sitting in the bed, her back resting against her cushion and her hands folded in her lap. She cocked her head as she noticed his confusion and explained: "I mean, in the Caribbean."

He nodded slowly and stood up. "When I worked with my father we sailed to Martinique. But we didn't leave the ship and only anchored by a small fishermen's island once. So I did not see much of it."

While speaking, he had climbed onto the bed, turned to her, and propped his head on one hand, while the other gently caressed her belly.

"According to everything I've heard, it must be a remarkable place." Lillian's gaze moved to the fireplace and a dreamy expression appeared on her face while she slowly sank back into the mattress, resting her head on her arm. "Turquoise waters, white beaches, trees without branches and twigs, colorful fish, monkeys…." She looked up at him. "Even if you haven't seen a lot of it, is it just like that?"

Her gaze was as inquisitive as the one of a child awaiting an answer to all of its questions. That wanted to know if all the stories it had been told and which had fueled its fantasy were true and he realized how little she knew about the world. Everything she knew was limited to Britain's harsh cliffs and the even harsher wilderness of North America. He also hadn't seen everything of this world but had got to know more than it had ever been possible for Lillian. If he could, he wanted to fill these holes in her knowledge. Connor stopped caressing her belly and rested his hand on her waist while thinking back to the few impressions he had gotten from the Caribbean.

"The water is really turquoise the closer you come to a beach and it is so clear that even from the board of ship you get the feeling of looking straight down to the ground", he started. "The beaches are just as you described them. At least the beaches I have seen. But there are not only palm trees. There are also forests of hardwood, even though they are other types than the trees we know here. I don't know exactly about colorful fish but when we anchored at this little island, I saw a monkey. It was climbing over the houses without fear, stole a loaf of bread from a woman's basket, and disappeared in the trees."

Lillian's eyes lightened up. "Are they as similar to us as people say?"

Frowning Connor thought back to the hairy creature with big eyes and a round snout, moving on two legs and its long arms. "Maybe remotely, yes. But I do not know if you can compare them to us. People say they are quite dangerous and wild animals. Despite or maybe because of their intelligence."

"Well, people aren't less dangerous. Despite or maybe because of their intelligence."

"That is true."

People tended to prove that they were quite similar to wild animals. They fought for territory, hurt and killed each other and some of them showed a courtship behavior that reminded Connor of wapitis and deer in spring. You could question who belonged to the more intelligent species.

"Do you think you can bring me something from there?"

He raised his eyes that had moved to his hand on Lillian's waist, back to her eyes. He could see the excitement in them. She seemed really fascinated by her imagination of the Caribbean.

"I think so. What would you like?"

Lillian thoughtfully bit her lip and watched her hand, which was resting on Connor's chest and whose fingers were following the lines of his muscles. A tender touch that was almost distracting him from their conversation.

"I don't know, maybe a particular beautiful seashell, should you find one? Or maybe one of these palm fruits. These…" She paused frowning, while her fingers stopped for a moment and her eyes moved up to the ceiling of the bed. "These bristly balls. A merchant once sold them on a market in Boston. He demanded a price that made you believe he was selling gemstones. It was something like a nut."

Connor smirked. "Coconut?"

Her gaze snapped back up to him and she smiled brightly. "Yes, exactly. Do you think they will stay fresh until you have brought them here?"

"If a merchant could do it, I think it is quite possible." He smiled, seeing the pleased expression on Lillian's face. Of all the things she could want from the Caribbean, it had to be a lousy coconut. Maybe it was her curiosity and fascination for a region unknown to her that made her forego much prettier souvenirs. But he decided to fulfill her wish. Maybe he could find something besides the coconut that she would like.

"But there is something else I want from the Caribbean."

He cocked his head questioningly as she said this. As if she had read his mind. A faint smile played about her lips and Lillian stretched her arms to wrap them around his neck and gently pull him down. Connor let it happen and gently touched the tip of her nose with his.

"I want you to come back to me safe and sound." Lillian's voice was a gentle whisper and her touch on his shoulders was a soft caress that ran a warm prickle through his body.

He didn't say that he would do everything to fulfill this wish but lowered his lips to hers and let this kiss speak for itself. She returned it just as gently and the longer their lips touched, the more passionate the kiss became and fueled the warmth in his body. Connor's hand, which had been resting on Lillian's waist, slid down to her lower back and pulled her tightly against his body. He wanted to be as close to her as possible. Eradicate any distance as if it could compensate for their future separation. He pulled away from the kiss and lightly nibbled at Lillian's bottom lip before kissing down her jaw, to her ear, and finally to her neck. The pressure of his lips was once hardly noticeable, another time firm and accompanied by a soft bite of his teeth and the quiet sigh she uttered and the slight pain in his scalp as she buried her hands in his hair and accidentally pulled at it, ran through every fiber of his being. Lillian's fingers opened the tie that was holding his hair and the freed strands brushed the skin of her neck and her cheeks when Connor's lips returned to hers. Lillian uttered a surprised gasp and then a quiet laugh when he rolled onto his back in a jerk and pulled her onto himself. Her braid fell forward, brushed his cheek and his shoulders as she propped herself up on his chest and looked down at him. He hissed and closed his eyes since she sat on his covered lap where he certainly wasn't the only one to notice the desire he felt for her.

When he opened his eyes again, they met hers and he could vaguely see the smile on her lips. Her hands moved to his stomach, only brushed him in a feathery caress before Lillian propped herself up and began moving her hips. She only did it lightly, a short roll that made him feel a rush of arousal and despite his tightly closed lips, he uttered a suppressed moan.

"Iakón:kwe!", he growled, half swearing, half gentle and he bit his lip to suffocate any following words. Lillian rolled her lips once, twice, and then sat still, looking down at him. Occasionally her eyes gleamed in the light of the fire behind her but he heard her breathing just as fast as he did. He raised his hands, that had slid down to the mattress and laid them on her thighs, resting against his own. He rubbed the thick fabric of her nightgown between his fingers and slowly ruffled it in his hands until her knees were bare and she took her hands off his stomach to place them on his.

"I want to see you", he simply whispered as if he feared he could destroy their intimacy by raising his voice. Lillian sat still, as if she was thinking about his request, but then he saw this light smile again, before she grabbed the hem of her nightgown, lifted her hips off of his, and slowly pulled up the fabric. At least it felt like an endlessly slow, tormenting movement to him, as he followed the hem with his eyes. Over her thighs, her lower body, the roundness of her hips that gently curved into her waist, her belly, her breasts, her neck, and finally her face where his gaze stopped before sliding to her braid that was resting on her shoulder. As if he had uttered a silent request, Lillian began to open it and again Connor watched her every move. The loosening of the ribbon, the strands of her hair, and the slight bend of her head as she ran her fingers through her hair. Her dark locks fell down her shoulder and ended by her breasts where they hardly covered the rosy peaks. The urge to touch her and let his hands follow the path of his eyes was strong and still, he kept them resting on her knees, looking at her. The flames of the fire behind her were dancing over Lillian's figure as if they wanted to tease him by keeping her in their shadows, only showing him her silhouette or a short gleam of skin, her hair, or her eyes that were unmovingly resting on him as if she was regarding him herself. His heart was beating fast in his chest, partly quickened by the desire she was awakening in him but also by the love he felt every time he looked at her and realized that she belonged to him, just as he belonged to her. No matter if it was in a situation like this or a simple moment in their everyday life: He thought she was beautiful. Gorgeous even.

His hands slowly made their way up her thighs, following the shape of her waist and caressing her breasts before stopping at the back of her neck to pull her down gently. Lillian sighed quietly as she lay on his chest and he caught her lips in a soft kiss, putting all the love and admiration he couldn't express into it. To phrase what she made him feel was still difficult for him. He believed there were no words that could do his feelings justice.

This time, it was she who pulled away from the kiss and ran her lips down his neck before she sat up again and rose off his lap. Her hands slid down his chest, teasing his nipples, and his stomach, and stopped at the laces closing his trousers. Connor didn't notice that he held his breath as she opened them and freed him from the confining piece of clothing. It landed on the floor beside her nightgown. He felt the touch of her hand on his thigh but before she could venture any further, Connor sat up and reached out his hands for Lillian who grabbed them. He didn't want any more teasing. He wanted to feel her, hold her, and enjoy it. She let him pull her in for another passionate kiss. He teased her bottom lip with his teeth, pulling it gently between his own while crossing his legs and pulling Lillian back into his lap. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her chest was pressed against his and she softly whispered his true name as they became one and Lillian wrapped her legs around his waist. They made love slowly, and gently. Enjoying every moment in each other's arms before tomorrow would separate them by thousands of miles.

"Let go anchor! Make sure she doesn't swim off!" Faulkner's voice echoed over the Aquila's deck and the crew immediately followed suit. Connor handed the steering wheel to one of the crewmembers and slowly walked down the stairs from the quarterdeck, looking towards the land to their right. Jamaika, or better to say the city of Kingston. They had traveled for nineteen days, spending the last two days in a heavy storm. Despite Faulkner's prediction. The deck was still covered in algae and smaller pieces of flotsam that had been washed up by the giant waves. Luckily they hadn't harmed the ship and its crew. No one was hurt but you could feel their relief on land. The men were already talking about how they wanted to spend their pay and it seemed like the brothels of the town were going to have a lot more customers. Even though Connor had never taken pleasure in such things, he didn't begrudge the shore leave to his men. They had done an extraordinary job during the storm and some distraction would do them good before they would hoist anchor again and go on their search for Mayan temples. But Connor needed information first and he hoped to get it from the local assassins.

He stood by the railing, his hands on the chappy wood, and looked at the bay Kingston lay in, protected like a pearl in a shell. He knew that there was a contact of the Assassins somewhere but he didn't know where. He would have to find out the old-fashioned way.

"Shall the men prepare the long boats?"

Connor turned his eyes away from Kingston and nodded at Faulkner, who had just appeared beside him and immediately gave the order. Only then he propped up his arm on the railing and let his gaze roam over the distant roofs of the city.

"Jamaica is still a British colony. Don't forget it when you're over there, lad."

Connor nodded again. "No worries. I do not intend to fight the redcoats."

He was well aware that Faulkner didn't expect him to challenge the British and continue a war long ended. The only war he was still interested in was already going on for centuries and it certainly wouldn't end with him facing the British. Again.

"Where will I find you after meeting the contact?", Connor asked and turned his eyes away from Kingston to look at Faulkner. He grimaced and raised a hand to scratch his stubby chin.

"Well, I planned on finding myself a nice little tavern and enjoying a cold one. Probably not the worst idea in this heat."

"Well then, you deserve it." Connor pushed away from the railing and turned towards his cabin. "Let us talk tomorrow morning, here on board?"

"Aye." Faulkner pulled away from the railing, too, and shortly patted Connor's shoulder before strolling to the men who were preparing the long boats.

Connor went into his cabin, changed into his robes, and stepped to the commode beside the desk to unlock it. Inside was the wooden chest with the Apple. Even in the dimmed light of the cabin, the metal was shining as if it was illuminated by sunlight. Connor propped up his hands on the commode and regarded the Piece of Eden. He hadn't touched it once since their departure and now he just wanted to lock the chest and leave the Apple behind. He wasn't afraid of it. He just disliked the uneasiness he felt in its presence. But he couldn't leave it here where someone could steal it, while the Aquila remained mostly unguarded. So he reluctantly grabbed the bag he had also put into the commode for this purpose and put the Apple inside. He tied it up several times before fastening it at his belt, as he heard a knock on the door.

Connor raised his head, granting access and soon Caleb slipped through the door. The boy had developed a remarkable tan that made his blonde hair seem fairer and his blue eyes richer in color. He was on his best way to become a good sailor. Thirsting for knowledge, helping everywhere he could. That was why Connor had taken him with him even though Lillian hadn't liked it at first. But he wanted to give Caleb the chance to explore the world and do something he enjoyed and he definitely enjoyed sailing a lot.

But now he seemed uncertain after closing the door and bobbing on his toes.

"What is it, Caleb?" Connor asked since the boy made no move to explain himself. "Do you not want to leave on one of the first long boats?"

Caleb took an audible breath and shook his head, before pausing and answering hesitantly. "Yes, kind of. I mean…I…I thought I…" He stopped and lowered his eyes to his feet. The right one began to draw small circles on the wooden floor. Connor closed the commode and turned to the boy, leaning his hip against the desk and propping his hands on the tabletop.

"Caleb, say what you want", he requested calmly. Whenever Caleb was struggling for words like this, he was troubled by something. Or he had gotten into mischief. No matter what it was, Connor patiently waited for an answer and watched Caleb, who slowly stopped stepping on the spot and raised his eyes.

"Well, I wondered…if I…could go with you."

Connor raised an eyebrow. He had expected a lot, but not this request.

"That is out of the question", he said and crossed his arms. Caleb's expression changed immediately into the defiance he knew quite well by now and which Corrine considered normal for someone in this "adolescent age". Whatever she meant by it.

"But why not? You only want to visit this contact. What shall happen on the way there?"

Connor tightened his lips. Caleb was right somehow and there was nothing dangerous speaking against the boy's company. Strictly speaking, he couldn't utter a reason why he didn't want to take Caleb along. Maybe because visiting the contact was already a step in his search for the temple and he considered it his task alone? Connor suppressed a sigh.

"You always go with the men", he tried a different approach but Caleb huffed and also crossed his arms in front of his slender chest.

"Do I have a choice? They only go to the whorehouse or some tavern. The latter would mean I had to sit between them and make a bet with myself whose head is going to hit the top first. I rather want to go with you and see the city. Maybe meet other assassins. You said they would be in this house, right?"

Frowning Connor looked the boy over who was giving him a pleading look. He understood why Caleb didn't want to accompany the rest of the crew. Neither a whorehouse, nor a tavern was a good place for a boy of his age who wanted to explore the world. He hadn't been any different.

"Alright", Connor said, pushed away from the table, and approached Caleb with a warning look, as he already beamed with joy. "But you will stay close and do whatever I say, understood?"

"Aye! I won't be in your way. You have my word."

Connor only hummed a reply while throwing his bow and quiver over his shoulder and silently walked past Caleb to leave the cabin. He could hear the boys leaping steps behind him, as they walked to the prow where the men had gathered by the railing to leave the ship with the boats. They were already floating on the azure water, waiting to be manned. Connor was the first to climb into one of them, followed by Caleb, two of the carpenters, and the tailor. The small, fully loaded vessel rocked alarmingly as they rowed away from the ship, but it brought them on land dryly. Connor had barely set foot on the weathered footbridge and had taken a few steps, as he took in Kingston once again. Now up close. His gaze roamed over the sandy beach behind the footbridge. Over the palm trees, some of them so crooked that they almost touched the ground. The thatched market stalls, selling fruits, fabrics, and fish. The wooden houses, so simple in build and appearance that they reminded him of the more sturdy stone houses in Boston, some of them proudly donning the British flag. It wasn't necessarily a beautiful or fascinating sight and maybe Lillian would have been disappointed if she had been with him. But it was different nonetheless and Connor felt a certain curiosity to find out what the centre of Kingston looked like.

"Come", he told Caleb, who had been staring around with his mouth open. Side by side they followed the road straight to the town. It was lively, just like the rest of the harbor, which you could barely call that if you knew the bigger ports of New York and Boston. But just as in every other town, people were holding loud conversations, goods were offered for sale, work was done, or people were simply strolling around. Amidst this town picture, there were smaller groups of soldiers in red uniforms. Even after his stay in London, Connor still had to get used to this sight. He kept his head down, was grateful for the shadow, his hood was casting on his face, and made sure that he always stayed close to other people. Only when he discovered a church-tower, did he relax and tell himself to concentrate less on the redcoats and more on his mission. Now his steps were more determined as he led Caleb straight ahead. The church seemed to be the only, or at least one of few red-brick buildings in town and finally reminded him of his home. A square building with a tower made of white wood. Stone stairs were leading up to the house of the Christian god, which was hovering over the town from a small hill, surrounded by a small stone wall.

"Wait for me here", he told Caleb who sat down on the wall while Connor walked around the building, to climb it as soon as he couldn't be seen anymore. Over the back door, a wooden cross, a round window, and finally from the roof up to the tower. On its tip, he let his gaze roam over Kingston again, which was spread beneath him like a carpet. A surprisingly well-structured town of wooden houses, only varying in size and allowing guesses on the different social statuses of their inhabitants. Right beside the church was one of the largest houses with a walled property and a wooden pavilion in its garden. It was surrounded by far more simple buildings which Connor hadn't further noticed if there hadn't been a swarm of pigeons circling above one of them like crows would do around a carcass. Pigeons like the Caribbean Assassins were using for their correspondence.

This has to be it, Connor thought and looked along the road they had come from. It led past the big house, turned right, and then towards the house, he believed to be the one. Connor leaped down into a very convenient haystack on the church's graveyard.

"Did you find it?", Caleb asked, still sitting on the wall and his eyes lit up as Connor nodded and beckoned him to follow. They left the church behind, blending into a group of people who were leading them along the road. In front of the big house, which Connor had seen from above, was a small market whose stalls were filling the air with the scents of fresh fruit, spices, and fish. Only a few people were here and regarded the house with distrust. Only now Connor noticed the redcoats guarding the entrances to the property. There were even snipers on the roof.

Who lives here? he wondered and regarded the redcoats they were passing. Maybe he would ask the contact man, but for now, he concentrated on finding him first. They turned right at an intersection and now followed a more narrow street, leading past fields on their right and simple houses on their left. One of these houses was yellow and nothing special. The paint was peeling off the walls, some ledges were missing and revealed the brown, weathered wood underneath. The middle stair to the door was missing as well and it seemed like the door itself wasn't as sturdy as it used to be. It was a miserable example of a house but that was more of a reason for Connor to be interested in it.

"Is that it?", Caleb asked whispering, as if he could make passers-by aware of who might frequent this building. Connor raised his eyes, watching the pigeons still circling the roof, while some of them returned to the coop behind the house.

"Let us find out", he said and knocked on the door. Nothing. Connor knocked twice and started to believe that this was the wrong house, as he finally heard steps on a creaking wooden floor. A bar was pulled back with a squeal, a key was turned in the lock and finally, the door opened a bit. He looked into a pair of brown eyes, framed by deep wrinkles in dark skin, looking him up with curiosity and distrust. He wasn't sure if he should say who he was and what he wanted right away, so he decided to say something that would either cause recognition or confusion.

"Laa shay'a waqi'un moutlaq bale kouloun moumkine." It was long ago since Achilles had taught him this Arabic sentence. The first principle of the Assassin's creed. Nothing is true, everything is permitted.

He wasn't even sure if he had pronounced it correctly, but he saw that the shadowed eyes lit up, before looking down at his waist, where he was wearing the red sash with the Creed's symbol. The door opened and the person, who Connor could now recognize as a man, stepped aside with a smile.

"What a pleasant surprise. Come in", he said in a very deep, calm voice. "Welcome to Kingston, brother."