The Right Side

The Boy

Clarke has been with the Grand Master for a month now, and his training shows no mercy. His words are gentle, though his requests are not. She wakes when the sun does, and goes to bed when she can. Haytham knows it's tiring, but in order to be a Templar, she must go through a bit of work.

Though often times, Haytham is needed outside of the manor and takes her along with him. The more she learns, the better.

Along with joining the Templars, Clarke was given a uniform.

It was light and fit well on the small girl. She was classified as a rogue, focused on stealth to kill the enemy silently and quickly. Though a sword hangs at her hip, she much more prefers the daggers to her right and her hidden blades.

It was still snowing outside, it hadn't stopped since that morning. Haytham didn't attend breakfast that morning, either. Leaving Charles and Clarke to eat alone.

"You sure he's alright?" Asks the blonde, tying her hair in a high ponytail, though it still reached the middle of her back. "He's usually the first one out."

"I'm sure. He's awake, just not out here," the man took a bite of his eggs. "You should stop worrying, he's the Grand Master. He knows what he's doing."

"I'm not doubting him at all," she shook her head quickly. "He's a very strong and capable man. Least, that's what I think. I don't know him as much as you do, but I know he's good at what he does. But I often care about his mental state. I don't see any family portraits or anything."

"That's because he has no family. His father was murdered back in England, his mother died of old age and he has no wife or kids."

"Aren't you his family now, then?"

"Pardon?"

"Well," Clarke's blue eyes moved to meet his. Within her time here, Charles has noticed her positive attitude and care for more than just her well being. Normally, he wouldn't care to be kind to anyone. But the way she goes about speaking with him, he feels forced to be nice. "You two are obviously close friends. And have been for who knows how long. If neither of you have a family, doesn't that mean you should turn and support eachother? Like family?"

The man hesitates, looking at his plate of food. Slowly, he puts his fork down while clearly trying to find words. "That's not exactly how things work around here."

"You wouldn't let him die, would you? Wouldn't you be upset if one day you realized he was being hunted down by a killer and that killer succeeded? Wouldn't you be upset?"

"That's enough, Clarke," comes Haytham's voice which causes the girl to stand quickly. "Come on, I'm glad you're dressed. We have business to attend to."

She nods, quickly nodding goodbye to Charles and walking to the Grand Master's side. He leads her out the door, only glancing at his second in command.

"You didn't tell me we had plans today," the blonde says as she walks fast to keep up with the man. When they make it outside, the wind hits them without mercy. Goosebumps cover the girl, though she ignores the cold.

"The people are rioting in the town." Haytham moves to their horses, his being a light brown while Clarke's is almost all white. "We aren't as popular as you might think."

The two take off into the town, the heat from the horse helping to keep a little warm. Haytham was always fine with the weather, though for Clarke ot took a bit to get used to.

"Why don't they like us?" She asked, raising her voice so he could hear.

"Not us Templars specifically, it's the Red Coats. But we have an alliance with them for the time being. The people came here to get away from England, but we followed."

Clarke nods in understanding, going quiet for the rest of the ride into Boston. It's a short one, and when they get there they see a large group of people yelling at a smaller one. The smaller group, of course, being the Red Coats.

Both Templars dismount from their horses, keeping them to the side of the scene. Haytham walks to a man with a hat, telling the younger girl to keep an eye out. Though he didn't say for who or what.

Turning to give the two men privacy as they speak, Clarke's blue eyes scan the crowd of people. They're yelling at them to go back to England and pushing eachother. Someone even threw a rock in her direction, though she stepped out of the way. She glances back at the Grand Master, sighing when the conversation shows no sign of letting up.

Turning back around, Clarke makes eye contact with with a darker skinned man, around her age. Other than the dark skin and hair, he looks like Haytham. The structure of his face and his nose. Especially his nose.

Her eyebrows knit together, watching a black man with a cane speak to him. As they slip back into the crowd, the girl looks back at Haytham to see his accomplice leaving. She stands still, making no movement while she watches. That's when she sees the man from before. He's following the other man.

"Haytham," Clarke says before moving to him quickly, eyes never leaving the target. "The man you just spoke to is being followed. We should send someone after him, make sure he isn't killed."

"Perhaps you should follow him."

"W-What?"

"You are more than capable of following someone. You've taken Hickey down countless times and I've known you for merely a month. You should go, and quickly if I might add."

Clarke pauses, but quickly nods before she turns and runs towards her new target. She decides to stray behind the dark skinned man, throwing knife at the ready in case she needed tk use it. Though as she watched, it seemed she wouldn't need to.

The three of them moved through the streets without any conflict, and it was beginning to confuse the blonde girl. She became even more confused when the accomplice of Haytham began climbing a building. Of course, the other man and Clarke followed.

He pulled out a gun, aiming it down at the people and where Haytham was. Without thinking, Clarke pushed past the darker man and put a blade in the other's throat. Blood poured from the wound, getting on her hand and some on her arm. She backed away quickly, when a gunshot went off.

Looking to her right, she sees Charles Lee on top of a building, gun in hand. He had fired.

"Charles!" She yelled, dropoing the dead man. "What are you-" a blow to the back of her head causes pain to fill her body, before darkness fills her vision.

Her body drops onto the roof, the man moving to her side and quickly lifting her. The Red Coats are shooting people down below, and Haytham has point the man out to everyone. When he sees Clarke in his arms, he grows angry and looks over at Lee. Neither knew what to do.