Chapter 7

Lilly descended the well-worn wooden steps to the tavern's main area, moving with both grace and determination. The room was filled with flickering shadows from the candle flames, casting a warm, welcoming glow over the solid wooden furniture. Her goal was to help Ella wrap up the night's tasks, sparing the anxious young woman from the disquieting surprise of finding an unexpected guest resting upstairs. Aware of Ella's easily startled nature, evident in her wide, nervous eyes, Lilly quickly took charge of closing up the tavern for the night, intending to steer Ella away from any potential unease.

Lilly and Ella softly whispered their farewells to the lingering patrons, their words blending seamlessly with the hushed ambiance of the tavern. As the last of the customers ambled out, Lilly's gaze was drawn to a group of men in black uniforms approaching the tavern, their faces set with a grave determination. The atmosphere crackled with tension as they approached the departing guests for interrogation. The lingering scent of the potent ale, generously consumed all evening, clouded the patrons' minds, resulting in muddled and incomprehensible answers from their associates that only served to aggravate the Templars further.

Peter, a well-known presence in Lilly's tavern, seemed particularly agitated. His expression twisted with irritation as he lamented, "Cheap drinking! And I missed out looking for a half-dead Assassin!" Lilly's movements stilled, her gaze locking onto his, silently unravelling the layers of significance in his words.

The Templars' focus shifted towards Lilly and Ella, their gazes honing in on the two women with a sharp, almost predatory intent. "You," one of them singled out Lilly and Ella, his voice carrying an edge of urgency, "have either of you noticed anything out of the ordinary this evening? A notorious fugitive has eluded capture not far from here, and we suspect he might have sought refuge in this vicinity."

Ella's breath caught in a gasp, her fingers fidgeting anxiously, as Lilly projected an air of composed assurance even though anxiety churned within her. With a determined effort, Ella managed to respond, her voice surprisingly steady despite the flutter of nerves, "Rest assured, sir. We're privy to all sorts of whispers in these walls. We'll certainly let you know if we hear anything of the sort." The Templar fixed his gaze on her with a firm nod. "Excellent! Our headquarters will be just across the square. Should any information come your way, do not hesitate to inform us promptly, young lady."

Peter, ever the opportunist, sidled up to the group with a swagger in his step. "Don't worry, miss," he assured with a grin, "ole Peter and the Templars will defend such pretty ladies." His words dripped with a false chivalry as he moved closer, his finger tracing a line down Ella's cheek, causing her to flinch.

Lilly swiftly stepped between them, her presence a protective shield. Peter's eyes roved over Lilly, lingering inappropriately on her chest, before he turned to leave with a sly smile. "You know where we are if you need us, but I'll be in for a pint to say hello at some point. I do enjoy the company of such lovely ladies," he added, his tone both a promise and a threat that lingered in the air long after he had gone.

Ella made to leave, bidding Lilly goodnight, but Lilly's hand closed around her arm, halting her. With a gentle tug, she guided Ella back into the cosy tavern. Sensing Ella's confusion, Lilly spoke softly, "I'd rather you not walk home alone tonight." Anxious glances flitted around the room as Ella murmured, "Yes, that ominous figure they mentioned could be lurking anywhere." Lilly was more concerned about Ella passing by the Templar base and the chance of Peter spotting her alone. She didn't like the way Peter had looked at Ella tonight but decided not to express her misgivings out loud. "Yes, that's right. Just wait here for a moment, and I'll ask Walter to give you a ride home in his cart."

"He's here?" Ella asked.

"Yes, he injured himself earlier while handling that unruly pig. Thankfully, it's just a minor sprain. Stay put, I'll fetch him," Lilly said before heading upstairs. She felt sorry for having to lie to Ella but knew it was for her own good.

"Walter?" Lilly's soft voice filled the dimly lit living quarters as she entered. Shadows stretched across the walls, revealing Walter's tense figure perched on the worn, floral-patterned couch. His gaze was fixed on the unconscious man splayed out on the bed. "Any improvement?" Lilly inquired, her voice tinged with worry. Walter looked up, his brow creased but his gaze unwavering. "No changes so far. He appears to be holding steady," he responded in a deep, reassuring rumble.

Lilly let out a slow breath, feeling a wave of relief. The idea of hiding a dead body, especially with those 'Templars' scouring the area, was not something she wanted to think about. "Walter, it's best you head back now. Martha will worry," she suggested, her tone soft and caring.

"Will you be safe here by yourself, Lilly? What if this troublemaker awakens and poses a threat? Desperation can drive people to do unpredictable things," Walter warned, his worry etched on his brow.

"I'll manage just fine, I assure you. Have faith in me... please?" Lilly reassured him, meeting his gaze with unwavering composure.

Standing up from the sofa, Walter nodded. "Alright then, but stay vigilant," he urged, a protective undertone colouring his words.

Lilly's gentle smile conveyed reassurance. "Walter, would you mind seeing Ella safely back? Oh, and let's keep tonight's happenings between us. I had to come up with a tale when she saw my attire earlier. With the rumours swirling around our unexpected visitor, Ella's already on edge. So, let's handle this delicately. You know how easily she frets," she requested in a tone that was resolute.

"I'll be back tomorrow, Lilly. If this scoundrel dares to lay a finger on you, I'll make sure he regrets it," Walter promised with a steely gaze at the motionless figure, then descended the stairs to summon Ella.

Walter and Ella slipped out through the concealed back entrance, leaving Lilly to wish them a goodnight as she firmly locked the door behind them. Climbing back up the creaking stairs, she returned to her quarters where the wounded man lay. His breathing even, each inhale and exhale more steady than before. Just as she turned to leave, a weak voice floated to her ears. "Thank you…." Intrigued, Lilly pivoted back, lowering herself beside him. "You've lost some blood, but with rest, you'll mend," she murmured gently.

"Why… did you help me?" he murmured faintly, his eyes struggling to stay open yet reflecting a blend of puzzlement and appreciation. "Consider it a debt repaid, Mr. Frye. Now rest… you're safe here." she responded serenely, her tone a balm of reassurance.

With the first faint light of dawn painting the sky, Jacob stirred from a restless sleep. Attempting to rise, a sharp pang shot through his shoulder, coaxing a quiet hiss from his lips. Surprisingly, the sound didn't disturb the small figure curled on the nearby couch. Taking in his surroundings, Jacob carefully adjusted his position against the solid headboard to ease the ache. His fingers idly trailed over the smooth, cool surface of the shilling hanging around his neck like a protective charm. It served as a constant reminder of his fortunate escapes, yet a chill crept down his spine at the mere notion of luck one day forsaking him.

He exhaled a weary sigh, his mind drifting back to his father's frequent admonitions about his reckless nature. How many times had he heard those warnings, brushed them off like dust on his shoulder? Yet, now those words gnawed at him, echoing louder than ever. He couldn't help but ponder if his father had been right all along. Would his impulsiveness truly lead him to an early grave? Last night's events had nearly confirmed it—only a lucky twist of fate had saved him. What if he hadn't been so fortunate? Without him, Evie would have been left to the mercy of the Templars, ensnared by whatever dark power they held over her. The promise he had made to his father, to always protect her, would have been broken.

Lilly's eyes fluttered open at the sound of a muffled groan, and she sat up, her attention drawn to her guest who seemed more awake but clearly in discomfort. "Easy now, sir," she murmured gently, "last night took its toll on you." Jacob locked eyes with Lilly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Not my finest hour," he quipped, a hint of pain crossing his features.

Lilly, enveloped in a thick blanket, approached him with a comforting smile. "I'm Lilliana Rose," she introduced herself warmly. "But you can call me Lilly, Mr. Frye." Jacob acknowledged her with a nod, his voice slightly hoarse. "Jacob works just fine." Her gentle smile widened. "Now that we're acquainted, the unfortunate news is I don't have any painkillers, but I do have an abundance of alcohol if that might help?" "That would be splendid," Jacob replied, wincing as a sharp pang shot through him.

Lilly approached with a bottle of brandy, its golden hue catching the gentle morning rays. Jacob welcomed the drink, and she spoke softly, "The ones after you have been gathering nearby. Last night, they established a camp across the square, interrogating locals. They're spreading tales that paint you as a dangerous criminal."

"And how do you know I'm not?" Jacob challenged, his gaze locking onto hers with unwavering intensity.

"Well, I didn't get a chance to introduce myself the last time we met; it was a fleeting encounter," Lilly responded, her tone unwavering and self-assured. "But you certainly left an impression worth remembering. Allow me to jog your memory..."