Test of Faith

Chapter 44

~~~~ Six months later

September 7, 1770

"Another year has gone by. Connor's training progressed well - I have never been more impressed by an apprentice before. His determination has grown as well, along with his stubborn attitude. That much is to be expected, however, he is still but a boy. He has grown, though, and I look forward to the man he is going to become. One of the remaining survivors of the Colonial Brotherhood massacre was a naval captain, Robert Faulkner. I vaguely remember him, but his first impression was not a good one. It felt good being around the ocean again, working on a ship, and I encouraged Connor to take interest. Today, Faulkner believes the ship will be finished with repairs - let's hope he's right."

~~~~

"Come aboard and feast your eyes, lads!" Mirabella and Connor approached the newly repaired ship - the Aquila. The boy stepped first, but Faulkner stopped him. "No, no, no - never the left foot! Horrible luck, step with your right foot first!" he scolded.

Mirabella just rolled her eyes, boarding the ship. "It looks very nice, Ser Faulkner," she praised. The captain sent her a glare, and she returned it. "I am not calling the ship a 'she'." Connor let out a soft 'ha' as he inspected the ship, a smile on his face.

"She is solid," he said with a nod. Faulkner clapped them both over the shoulder with pride. "Aye, weatherly and sleek! She'll fetch 12 knots in a stiff gale, ne'er a ship from here to Singapore can outrun her on her best day!" he cheered.

Whatever that meant.... "Wha'dya say we take her out and show you what she can do first hand!" he offered enthusiastically. Mirabella perked up with interest. "Oh, sounds like fun, I haven't been sailing in a very long time," she agreed, sitting on top of some boxes.

"Where would we go?" Connor asked curiously. "As it happens, she still needs guns and the officers to command them. We'll launch straight away! Don't worry, lad - I'll make sure you sprout good sea legs!"

~~~~

"That was a pleasantly smooth ride, ragazzo, I am proud of you," Mirabella praised once they reached Martha's Vineyard. Connor gave her a proud smile, and Mirabella was overcome with joy.

She and Connor had grown much closer over the past few weeks. She could not quite call him a friend, and nowhere was he viewed in a romantic light. 

She dared to use the term 'son' to describe the boy - every Assassin could see just how motherly she acted with him. The boy may have been in his teenage years, but Mirabella was the only one who could pamper him like a child. 

Faulkner then led the two into a nearby bar, and Mirabella pulled up her hood. "Hullo, Miss Mandy. You're looking every bit as ravishing as I remember," he flirted with the bartender.

The woman, Mandy, gave him a pointed look. "After all these years, you sail all the way to the Vineyard to pay me compliments?" she sneered. 

Faulkner frowned, looking down awkwardly. "We're looking for David and Richard Clutterbuck." Mirabella's gaze wandered across the bar lazily, sighing gently in slight boredom.

However, once she spotted two unique men, she straightened out and kept her face hidden as Faulkner led them to a table. Mirabella stood tall, giving her back to the men. Connor, however, was quick to recognize the men, and he stormed over.

"Connor!" she hissed, following him. He ignored her, though. "Where is Charles Lee?" he demanded angrily. The younger of the two Templars stood up, staring Connor down as the second man spoke. "I don't much care for your tone, boy."

Mirabella recognized the disgusting voice of Benjamin Church, and she grabbed Connor's arm. "Smettila, ragazzo," she snapped while slipping on her mask. Faulkner cut in, pulling Mirabella and Connor back. "Hey, you don't want to be doin' that, Biddle," he warned.

Mirabella led Connor out quickly, but not without shooting a glance behind her. Benjamin had a knowing look in his judgmental eyes, and Mirabella quickly ducked out of the bar.

"Why did you do that? We had them right in our grasp!" he complained, gritting his teeth. "Assassins live by secrecy, ragazzo, we do not make ourselves known unless we need to. There could have been more of them hiding, we could have been ambushed," she scolded.

Her tone was not harsh, however, she could never be truly mad at her apprentice. Connor sighed, lowering his head. "You are right, I'm sorry." Mirabella just rolled her eyes. "You are still training, Connor - it will take time."