After Desmond confessed he was from the future, Connor became more suspicious towards him. Before either of the occupants could utter another word, a knock came by the door, as a man opened it before looking inside the room.
"Captain, dinner is ready." The man took a glance at the predator, who stared right back at him.
"Is that the wolf?"
Connor, who still had his arms crossed on his chest, nodded. "I will be there shortly."
The cabin boy frowned, confusion written all over his tan face, but then it was replaced by recognition. He then grinned at the wolf.
"You have a cool pet, sir."
The assassin tilted his head to the side. Without uttering another word, he nodded. The man took a last glance at the wolf, before he closed the door, and left.
Connor stood straight. "It seems they no longer see you as a threat. Well, I do not know for some of them, but I am certain they won't bother you anymore."
Desmond did not like the idea of him being Connor's pet, but there was nothing he could do about it. One of the edges of his mouth, twitched upward.
'Good for me then, I don't have to worry about getting holes in my body anymore.'
At the corner of Desmond's eyes, he saw the assassin smirked at his words. Connor then faced the wolf.
"What's the purpose of your presence here?"
'It's just like you said a month ago, to help you. I thought that if I come with you in this trip, I'd find the second piece.'
"You told me that you are my.. descendant. In what year?"
Desmond sat on the wooden floor. 'Year two thousand twelve. The world was supposed to end, but we managed to stop it from happening. We found the amulet you hid at his grave, we wouldn't have managed to pull it off like we did if we have never found it in time.'
Connor narrowed his eyes. "How did you know where I kept the amulet?"
This was what Desmond had been dreading, as his eyes moved to the window at the side nervously. Darkness has covered the sky like a blanket, as the stars continued twinkling.
'There's a machine that allows people to see through the lives of their ancestors. We used that to find it. We would never have found the amulet without it.'
Connor stood still for a moment. After half a minute, he leaned back. "I believe you."
The novice turned his face to the assassin slightly, studying him from the corner of his eye. He was a little surprise at his ancestor's statement, as he was expecting an unpleasant outcome. The former human mentally sighed in relief.
'So you don't actually mind me snooping around your memories? I mean, I don't think I'd ever like the idea of someone invading my privacy without me knowing anything about it.'
"You misunderstood. I believe that such a machine exist, and you using it to acquire information. However my suspicions of you does not change anything after what you said." The assassin then leaned forward. "Why a wolf?"
Desmond would be lying if he was not slightly taken aback by Connor. Although, he had a point.
'When I woke up back at the forest, I was already like this. I was supposed to be dead. Juno made sure of that, or at least that's what I thought it was, anyway.'
At the mention of Juno's name, the assassin perked up. "You know Juno?"
'She's the one who told us to find the key. The amulet. She'd been trapped at the temple for a long time, waiting. But after I what I did, she's free now.'
Connor paused for a moment. "She made you into a wolf?"
At Desmond's nod, the Native stood straight, shifting his arms to rest them to his sides.
"The temple, is it the cave near Kanien'kehá:ka?"
The assassin nodded, before making his way to to the door. "We will find the second piece, no matter what it takes."
The following day, a storm had replaced the once peaceful morning with angry rain clouds, and strong rouge winds. The sky roared, followed by the struck of lightning, as waves rocked the ship back and forth. Men ran around the deck to keep her intact through the harsh weather. One huge wave almost tried to turn the Aquilla to it's side, as Desmond watched the whole scene in horror. His ancestor shouted orders to his men, with Faulkner following closely behind him.
"Loose down the sails!"
"Tighten those ropes lads!"
"Make sure none of it comes loose!"
The sky roared yet again, followed by a bolt of lighting. Desmond was completely drenched at this point. Freezing water stuck to his white fur, making him shiver ever so slightly. He yelped when a foot stepped on his paw, and saw the culprit ran passed by him, not noticing the wolf. When more men came running towards his direction, Desmond hastily moved out of the way.
Everyone was hyped up to keep the ship intact, and were not paying attention to anything that did not involved pulling down the sails, tightening down the ropes securely, or making sure their cargo would not get thrown to the ocean. Desmond suddenly perked up when he heard someone screaming, followed by a loud splash. He ran towards the railing, and searched around the waves. A few seconds later, a head came out to the surface, coughed out the water, before another wave pushed him further away from the ship. The former American looked around for help, but it was futile. Everyone were still busy with their tasks.
Desmond then spotted a rope nearby. The rope was tied to a large fishing hook at it's end, as he grabbed it with his fangs. Running back to the railing, the wolf threw down the rope at the flailing man, who quickly took hold of it with both of his hands. Desmond bit the rope tightly between his teeth, and pulled. With the wave dragging the man further away, it was useless. However, Desmond did not gave in, and kept pulling the man up to the deck. Using all of his strength, he managed to moved backwards inch by inch, never letting the wave took over. Slowly, he managed to pull the man up, and completely dragged him over to the upper deck. The man was kneeling down to the wooden floor, surprised that he was yet again saved by the wolf. He expressed his gratitude by thanking Desmond.
The novice stood up straight, and searched for the island at the far distance. When he found it, the crew grew excited. The ship was then stationed by the dock, as ropes were tied securely.
At mid afternoon, the storm passed, and cargos were already been delivered to the port. After their tasks were finished, the sun had completely set, as darkness covered the sky. Connor has received his payment, and the crew were now resting by the inn, or simply having a drink. The assassin joined along with his men. The tavern was rather cheerful. Music were played, as some of the folks danced to the beat. Desmond sat beside a table where his ancestor was occupying. There were not a lot of guards on the island, so the former American was safe from being impaled for being a predator roaming free around the town.
Connor had a pretty good relation with his employer, as he had been in his service ever since he started delivering cargos across the ocean. Ships were mostly docked in the island either to restock, or to rest. At Desmond's side, the assassin proceed to remain quiet, speaking when someone mentioned his name, or when business were the topic being spoken about. It seemed like Connor would be busy for a while, so the former bartender went out of the boisterous tavern to explore the area. People would stare in horror at the sight of him, while some actually called the guards, who happened to be on patrol on the street.
There was no sign of the map's second piece on this island, at that, Desmond was disappointed. He expected he would find it. Alas, luck had never been on his side.
A day after, it was time to set sail back to Davenport. The crew were well rested, and the Aquilla was yet again fully restocked. The wolf was not looking forward for the trip back to the Homestead, as his past experience in the ship was exhausting for him. Not like he had a choice, so he sucked it up, and walked up to the deck. Turns out, the next following days, were not actually that bad as he thought. Although, time to time, he would get sick again. He realized the sea sickness only lasted for a few seconds, and it was not as bad as it was before. There were enough deer meat stocked to keep Desmond content for the next following weeks, although, he would rather hunt. Fortunate for them, no bandits or pirates, were seen along the way. Occasionally, it would start to rain, and one time a storm appeared. Other than that, the Aquilla made it to the harbor of Davenport without any damage.
The sun was beginning to set, and Desmond literally ran pass the harbor, excitement surging through his veins. He did not care, he had been out at the ocean for two weeks. Finally, he can go hunting again. The former bartender dashed through the road that lead towards the manor, paws rapidly hitting the ground, leaving dirt tracks behind. The wind breezed through his white fur, and heard his heart beating louder in his chest. Desmond was never going to a trip in a ship again, for as long as he was a wolf. Nope, he did not mind for leaving his ancestor back at the harbor at all. Desmond had been waiting for this, he needed his fangs sink into a deer's flesh, and taste the blood in his mouth, as he ripped his prey's neck off. He was hungry.
Brown eyes turned golden, as the wolf's senses became more heightened. He can feel them. Their heart beat, the breathing through their noses, and even their slightest movements. He crouched down low, and slowly made his way towards a clearing up ahead. Before him, was a herd of deer eating grasses, oblivious of the hungry predator. Desmond grinned in his mind. This was going to be fun.
For three minutes, he remained still, and hidden inside the bushes. One deer began to walk forward, towards Desmond, who's eyes glinted. He placed his sharp paws firmly on the ground under him, ready to pounce in any second. However, before he could do so, a gunshot rang through the air. Immediately, the herd flinched, before hastily running away from the clearing, extinguishing Desmond's plan completely.
The former bartender wondered where that gunshot came from. His question was answered when he heard a rustle of bushes in front of him, before a woman entered the clearing. She was in her early twenties, and was obviously holding a gun of her own. It was the huntress of the Homestead. Desmond waited until the woman walked away, as he made his way to the opposite direction. The former human's annoyance for the disturbance of his hunt, faded away slowly. He could easily find a new big one, as this forest was filled numerous sizes of them. It was actually a piece of cake for him.
Not a minute later, he found another prey, as Desmond let his instincts took over. Before he could even move closer, the deer suddenly began to run. The former American widened his eyes. He had not even made one sound, yet it sensed him coming, and made a run for it. Pushing the shock away, he ran after the animal. The buck was fast, but Desmond had the bigger advantage. He leaped over a huge log, before dashing after the deer. He put more speed when he realized the animal was heading towards the many houses of the Homestead, and did not seemed to show any signs of turning to another direction, or slowing down. He froze on his tracks when the buck ran to the open road, where a group of people were conversing with one another. They screamed in horror at the sight of the animal running to their direction, as it passed by them, before disappearing at the distance.
'Great.' Now he needed to find another animal to hunt.
Luck was not on Desmond's side today, as he had not caught a single animal. Every time he set his eyes on one, there would always be a sound that scares his prey off before he could even touch them. The former American was annoyed, and angry that he could not even get a single catch. He wanted to sink his teeth into a flesh, but he could not do that if these animals ran before he could act on it. Not only that, the sun was beginning to set, and he was still hungry. He had been hunting for the whole afternoon, and got nothing.
As Desmond aimlessly walked through the peaceful forest, his ears perked up at a sound. He made his way to the edge of a cliff, before looking down below. He mentally grinned. Two deers were eating a bush of berries together. Not waiting for another sound to erupt the peaceful silence of the forest, he made a run for it, and jumped down from the seven feet cliff. A loud cry erupted through the air afterwards, as crows flew away due to the disturbance.
The next morning, a man came to the manor. He held a letter from one of Connor's associates from Boston.
'You are being called to Boston?'
The assassin nodded, as he packed food in his bag, and checked if everything else was in order inside the kitchen.
'Do you know why?'
Connor made his way to the table, were he had placed his weapons. "My friend, Samuel Adams requires my help. There is trouble at Boston, and I am to investigate what is the cause of it. I suspect our enemies are secretly delivering illegal goods in the city without the pioneers knowing. I first need the evidence of their crimes, so that they will be caught."
'Can I come?' Desmond shifted in his place. 'I won't get in your way, and I might help you with this mission of yours.'
The assassin glanced at his direction, looking at the animal expectantly.
'I got a strong sense of smell. I can detect where they are keeping their goods.'
Connor turned to face him. "Very well. You may aid me in this mission, but–"
'There's always gonna be a but.'
Ignoring the wolf's words, the Native continued. "You are to obey every order I give you while we are in Boston. And you cannot stray a far distance from me."
Desmond nodded. 'I'll try.'
The assassin's eyes narrowed. "If you are caught by the blue coats because of your disobedience, do not say that I have not warned you."
The former human sighed. 'Alright, alright. I promise I'll obey, you happy now?'
Connor frowned, then nodded. "There is something I need to finish before we take our leave. You shall wait outside when you're ready." Without another exchange of words, he left.
It was a warm, and sunny day. The forest was still, however, the animals who lived there, were not. An odd scent suddenly lingered in the air, causing Desmond's nose to slightly twitch, as he glanced at the assassin in front of him. The man was silent, as he rode on his horse. They came across the bridge that lead to the Frontier, as the river below them glistened.
Connor glanced at the wolf behind him by the corner of his eye. "From this time on, we will reach our stop while running."
The assassin looked forward, before kicking his horse with his right leg, urging it to run. Desmond followed closely behind Connor. The wolf did not mind running, as he was pretty fast for a wolf. He could outran Connor's horse if he wanted to. Desmond smirked, before putting more speed in his legs, until he was running beside the assassin. The native turned his eyes down at the wolf.
Desmond grinned in his mind. 'Does this look running to you?' He spoke of Connor's horse.
Connor raised an eyebrow, not getting what Desmond was trying to say. The former bartender grinned even more, before running ahead of the assassin. Not a moment later, he got the lead, while his ancestor rode his horse behind him. Every person they passed by was shocked, and terrified to see the white wolf, as they all ran out of it's way on the road. They crossed paths with a group of blue coats three times, and hid and waited far beside the road until the soldiers passed by. They made their way towards Boston.
They reached the entrance, where fences were lined up beside the road, and houses stood feets away from each other. At the far side, was the sight of the ocean. At the distance, was the many houses of Boston that had narrow alleys, and streets which were always bustling with people. Desmond stared at the road before him. He and Connor still had a long walk to go, however, he was caught off guard when two hands suddenly lifted him up from the ground.
'What the hell are you do–' The wolf was cut off when leaves invaded his mouth, as he closed his eyes when green blurred his vision. He began to cough them out of his mouth.
"You need to hide in there for the meantime to avoid unwanted attention."
Desmond could taste the dry, yet bitter taste of the leaves that left in his mouth. He opened his eyes to glare at the assassin, but was greeted with the same green.
'A warning before you put me in here would have been nice.'
There was a moment of silence. Desmond was about to speak again, when Connor beat him to it. "Next time, I'll tell you."
It was the middle of the day. Everyone in Boston were busy selling and earning money, while others worked by the dock, or simply gossiping about recent events. The sun's heat did not hinder their daily chores, or did it stop them from doing so. Merchants called out their sales, attracting people that passed by to buy from their stand. Soldiers marched down on the streets, followed by the beat of their drums.
The door of the tavern opened, as the assassin came in. Immediately, the man sitting by the table stood up, and walked up to the native.
"Connor, it is good to see you."
Connor nodded in greeting at Samuel.
The chef, who was cleaning a bottle of glass with a piece of cloth, stopped to grin at his friend. "Connor, how have you been? You have gotten a new haircut." He added, his words thick with his accent.
The assassin turned to Stephane. "I'm doing fine, how's your shop?"
"As usual, the business has been quite well."
People were then asked to leave the tavern, as the assassins began their meeting, planning a strategy on how to get the supplies without letting their enemies know.
It was now late evening. Lamp posts were lighten up by the streets, as people were already asleep inside their homes, while some of them lingered in the alleys. At the same time, the blue coats stood alert. The music which were played in the inns, echoed outside of the streets.
Meanwhile, the assassins gathered near the harbor, as a group of men made their way towards the docks. The captain stepped out of his ship, to speak with one of them. From where the assassins stood, they could not hear their conversation. However, for Desmond, it was no problem.
The templar gave the captain a piece of crumpled paper. "A couple of more cargos are needed before the next shipment. We need everything on the list to be delivered before they become suspicious of our work."
Desmond squinted behind the crate, and watched the captain took the paper from the templar. He read it over, before placing it inside his inner breast pocket, and nodded.
"It will be done. Should I not meet my costumer at this time?"
"Just do as you were told and don't ask any more questions regarding about the boss. You must also be quick with this, deliver the cargo at the address I've given you. Remember, no one is to know what we're really doing."
Connor leaned against a wall of barrels, arms crossed on his chest, as he watched the scene in front of him. He then glanced down at the white wolf expectantly.
'The captain has the address to where they are keeping them.'
The assassin nodded.
A group of men carried boxes of crates to place them on a couple of carts, before making their way through the streets, as they avoid the areas where blue coats patrolled. They turned to a corner which was void of people, before two of their men were being stabbed behind a cart. As soon as they heard that they were under attacked, the templars took out their swords, as the assassins finished them all off swiftly. Afterwards, dead bodies laid on the street, as Connor went to the captain's corpse and took out the piece of paper. They hid their bodies, and found where they had kept the illegal cargos, which were hidden all over Boston. They found more due to Desmond, when he was sniffing around. The mission was a success, and they reported of what they found to the higher ups. In the next couple of days, they were already half way through locating all of it.
The former bartender sat behind a wall of barrels, at his side, he heard his ancestor talking with Samuel Adams.
"This does not need to reach another's ears, Samuel."
"Your secret is safe with me. What is it?" Samuel stared at the assassin before him. Desmond looked around the area, and found no prying ears nearby.
'No one else is listening. You can say it.'
"There is an artifact I am looking for."
The man nodded, waiting for the assassin to continue.
"The templars are also looking for it, and it's hidden somewhere in America. I've stolen the piece of the map from them a month ago, but I need to require the second of it's piece first." Connor narrowed his eyes slightly. "I need you to help me find it."
The following days, they spent their nights at an inn. Three days later, they found news which included of they were looking for from Samuel Adams. He told the assassin, that a man who worked at the south harbor of Boston, has the second piece of the map.
It was close to evening. Orange colored the sky, as seagulls flew towards the horizon. The assassin made his way to the docks, to where men were busy carrying down cargos from their ships. Desmond watched his ancestor behind a mountain of crates from afar, as Connor asked one of the men on the deck. He informed the native that their manager left to get a drink, so the assassin made his way through the street, and went inside the nearest tavern. Desmond swiftly made his way to the back of the tavern, where there were no people. He then spotted an open window, jumped on a crate, and looked inside the inn. His ancestor walked towards the counter, took a seat, and started talking to the man beside him.
"I don't know this map you speak of, I'm sorry."
The master assassin moved his eyes downwards to the man's breast pocket, where a piece of folded paper peeked out slightly. He then activated his eagle vision, and spotted a hint of gold glowed beneath the man's clothes. Connor moved his eyes back up to the man's face, with no emotion whatsoever.
The man shrugged. "Yes, but believe me when I say that this thing I have is quite useless. Trust me, it will not acquire you with fortunes."
"If it's useless to you, then hand it to me."
The manager narrowed his eyes. "What do you need it for mate?"
Connor narrowed his eyes as well, but it was hidden underneath his hood. "I need it, and you will give it to me."
The man then fully turned to the native, studying his form. Connor noticed he was staring at his weapons.
"I can't give it to you."
"I have money, name the price."
The manager stared at his face, however, he couldn't grasp the assassin's expression.
"I still can't give it to you."
Connor blinked, he did not expect the man's refusal to his offer. Before the native could open his mouth, the manager took a sip from his mug, and grimaced at the taste. He then wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
"This is the most awful ale I've ever tasted in my whole life." The man stated, and placed his mug down on the counter, the tone of his voice alone explained that he was clearly upset.
"You said it yourself, it's useless to you. It would be better if you just accept my offer."
The manager shooked his face. "I've already intend to give it to someone, so it's already sold to him. In fact, we were supposed to meet this afternoon. I planned to get a good drink before I leave, but their ale tastes like brown water, so I'll take my leave quickly than I've thought."
Desmond perked up at an idea.
'Connor, I know how to convince him.'
The assassin remained seated, and listened to his descendant.
'You have to make him a drink.'
Connor frowned, he had no knowledge whatsoever in making any drinks.
'I'm a bartender. Well, was, anyway. I'll tell you how to make it.'
"How much is he paying for it?"
The man fully turned to him, and told the Native the price.
"I could double the price."
The manager hesitated. "I still can't give it to you, unfortunately. We already sealed a deal to it."
'It will really work Connor, trust me.'
The assassin remained frowning, he was clearly doubting the wolf's idea. He then placed his arm on top of the counter.
"How about I'll pay you, and a better ale?"
The man was not sure anymore, it seemed like he really wanted Connor's offer. He really needed that drink. The manager grinned.
"You got yourself a deal."
The sun had completely set hours ago. The ship's sails fluttered against the strong breeze of the winds, as the ocean remained peaceful under the evening's embrace. The temperature lowered slowly the moment night came. The animals were placed in back behind their fences, as stray dogs and cats lingered around the streets, looking for food. Desmond laid on top of the tavern's roof, his light brown eyes roamed around the streets. The civilians continued on their way, oblivious of the predator above them.
While Connor searched the location on the now complete map, Desmond waited on top the roof. It was clear that they would have to travel tomorrow, to look for the Apple of Eden. Earlier, before they acquired the second piece of the map, the manager liked the cocktail they had given to him. It would had tasted a lot more delicious if Desmond was the one who made it, and not his ancestor. However, now thinking about it, Connor could be a bartender. Perhaps. He chuckled.
After several hours of enjoying the night, Desmond made his way back inside the room. Connor stood at the far corner, beside a table which was placed against the wall, where two pieces of the map were laid on.
'Did it say where it's location is?'
The assassin nodded. "It's in a deserted island in America. I have passed this island numerous times during my travels."
Desmond grew annoyed at the thought of sailing on a ship again. He had no other choice anyway. He made his way to the other side, where a cabinet was placed, and laid down in front of it. The curtains fluttered against the breeze that past by, as the noise of the drum from outside echoed barely inside the room. Despite the fact he was going to regret getting on a ship again, Desmond was looking forward in finding the piece of Eden, which was the whole reason why he was in this situation.
To be continued..