The Right Side

Benjamin Church

Clarke is awoken when the ship shutters and cannons can be heard being fired. With her hair a mess and having on no clothes, the girl stumbles as she makes her way to her uniform. Just as Connor said, it dried. She didn't hesitate to put it not, feeling much safer now that she was covered. She could only run a hand through her hair, curls taking place from her hair being wet from the night before.

Once her weapons were secured, the Templar exited the cabin to hear men yelling to fire cannons at enemy ships. It's no secret that the girl was not used to being on a ship, for she stumbled her whole way up the stairs to make her way to Haytham and his son. She clutched onto the railing, looking at the two. "What on earth is going on?"

"Sorry to wake you, darling, but it seems Church has friends."

"I can see that."

Connor glanced over, his eyes locking on the just awoken girl. Her hair was down, there was a red line on her face from where she slept, and she was doe-eyed. It's like she came from a fairytale, with her porcelain skin and light hair. How did a man like his father find a girl like her?

"Church is using the ambush as cover!" Haytham says as cannons soar through the air. "Sink his ship before he escapes! Send that bastard to the sea floor!"

"No, I need his ship," Connor snaps out of his gaze and looks at the other ships. "The cargo must be saved." With that, the Aquila easily downs one of the smaller ships. The one he seems to be saving is the largest.

The Grand Master puts a hand on Clarke's head, pushing her down to her knees as the ship rocked heavily. "Stay down, understand? It's safer this way."

"I can handle my own," she frowns before teetering into him. "Fighting wise. If we aren't moving."

"Exactly." The man smiled, leaning in and pressing their lips together. His hand is still in her hair when he kisses her, quickly dominating her mouth as he keeps her body close to his. The kiss is filled with such strong emotion, it's sensory overload for Clarke. "Tonight, we'll be safe. Home. Together," he says as he pulls away.

"But I'm-"

"That makes it even better. Now stay safe, this will be finished soon." With that, he stood and turned his attention to the remaining ships. Clarke was barely able to stay on her knees, having to completely sit down.

Haytham drove her insane, everyone knew that. He knew that. Which made everything he did even better.

Lost in her train of thought, the girl noticed that the cannons slowly began to fade until some of the men on the Aquila cheered.

"Men!" Connor called. "Prepare to board-" he was cut short, being pushed to the side of the ship as Haytham took the wheel. "What are you doing?!"

"Ending this!" He spun the wheel, driving the nose of their ship into the hull of the other ship. This caused the Aquila to shake, Clarke letting out a small yelp. She was now leaning heavily against the side of the ship next to Connor, her legs feeling like jelly from the water. Their ship slid across the other, stopping just in time for a few of the soldiers to hop across.

"Go!" Connor yelled. "Board the ship!"

"Finally," Clarke let out a breath. "Something I can do - fight." She goes to follow, a hand on her shoulder.

"Follow me," Haytham says in a quiet voice. He leads her to the side of the Aquila, lifting her up and allowing her to hop across to the other ship before following. He glanced around, seeing Connor busy fighting Church's men. With that in mind, he takes the blondes hand and leads her into the lower part of the ship.

"Are you sure he's here?" She asks. "And shouldn't I be out there? Fighting?"

"I'd feel much safer if you were with me, though don't misunderstand you are an excellent fighter. Ah - here we are." They stop walking, seeing a man with greyed hair and trench coat. "So here we are, face to face at last, my friend. It's been quite the adventure - let me tell you. Working my way through your nasty little tricks and traps. Clever. Some of them, anyway. I'll give you credit for that." While the Grand Masters words seemed harmless, his tone was not. It grew quite angry. "And for the quietude with which you pulled it off. We had a dream Benjamin! A dream you sought to destroy! And for that, my fallen friend, you will be made to pay!"

Clarke couldn't comprehend how they had gone from talking, to shouting, to her lover pinning Church to the ground. He had a strong grip on the mans throat, his fist raised in the air with blood on his knuckles and much more on the former Templar's face. It all happened so quickly, she was frozen in her spot.

Her blue eyes widened as she saw Haytham punch him again and again, the doors opening as Connor entered. He seemed just as surprised, taking the scene in slowly. Instead of reacting physically, the native just spoke.

"Enough," he said. "We came here for a reason."

"Different reasons, it seems." With that, he gave the man another hit before standing and turning away from them. "My dear?"

"You nearly killed him with your bare hands," she says, unable to pry her eyes away from the bloodied face of Church. "How did you... how can you..."

"I've been doing this for some time, I suppose my anger gets the best of me. You'll understand one day, when all you see is red because someone endangered the one you care about most." For the Grand Master, that was her.

"Where have you stores the supplies you've stolen?" Connor asks the man, getting the Templars attention.

"Go to hell!"

"Allow me," Clarke stepped forward, her hidden blade coming into view. She presses it painfully against the mans abdomen, slowly cutting into his flesh and muscle. "Where are the supplies, again?"

"O-oh the island yonder, awaiting pickup. But you've no right to it. It isn't yours."

"No, not mine," Connor then speaks. "Those supplies are meant for the men and women who believe in something bigger than themselves. Who fight and die the one day they might be free from tyranny such as yours."

"Are these the same men and women who fight with muskets forged from British steel? Who bind their wounds with bandaged sewn by British hands? How convenient for them. We do the work, they reap the rewards."

"You speak as if you are the innocent, and they the thieves."

"Your enemies see it just, you fool. Ask your girl here, it's no secret she sees the fall of George Washington as the best for everyone. She sees it as the right thing to do. Think on that anytime you take down a Templar who merely doesn't agree with you. You're lucky Washington didn't burn you-" he choked on his words, the hidden blade in Clarke's wrist buried deep inside of him.

"He talked to much," she said quickly, standing and walking back to Haytham.

"You did well," the Grand Master says. "His death helps both sides in this. Now come," he sighs. "I suspect you'll want my help retrieving everything from the island?"

A small smile appeared on Clarke's face, her shaking her head as she followed the Templar. He never ceases to make her smile in times she most certainly shouldn't.