All is Fair in Love and War

3

Morning was rather punctual in its arrival, though why, I did not know. Unfortunate, really. I could have done with the sleep.

Achilles, however, had other plans, for he was at the door bright and early, telling me to get dressed in the spare clothes he apparently kept in the wardrobe. Of course, when I looked, there were only the clothes of a young boy.

I wasn't the tallest girl, rather on the small side - and sure enough the clothes fitted. I'd never dressed in male clothes before; were breeches always this comfortable? I would have to invest in a pair of my own, I decided as I made my way, rather meekly, downstairs and through the dining room to the kitchen. Ratonhnhaké:ton leaned against the doorway and he glanced over when I passed; I purposely walked close enough to him that my shoulder brushed against him.

Why? one might ask. I will make it simple: he was cute.

"Get yourselves something to eat," Achilles said by way of greeting. "When you are both ready, meet me out at the stables."

As he limped to his study or his room or wherever it was that he mooched off to, I sat at the table and Sophia entered my memory - her soft voice, and the many lessons on the etiquette and manners a lady was expected to display.

Ratonhnhaké:ton struck me as a shy one; it came as a surprise to me when he sat next to me, lacing his fingers together. I'd seen his kind before - Indians had visited London before, the four kings had their portraits painted for all to see, with their dark hair and tanned skin and bright eyes.

Silence stretched between us, and neither of us looked the other in the eye. When it became apparent that he would not be the one to start the conversation, I said, "What do you think he will have us do?"

He shrugged. A great conversationalist, certainly.

I tried a different tactic. "How old are you?"

There was a pause before he said, "Thirteen summers. You?"

"Twelve." At least he was willing to speak. I was positive that I would curl up and die in a corner if he wasn't. I gestured to the table. "Might I interest you in–" I picked up one of the fruits– "a rather shrivelled apple? It may not be the prettiest of the bunch, but I'm sure it's got a great personality."

That cracked a smile from him, and his entire face lit up. Taking it gingerly from my hand, he asked, "Why are you here, training to become an Assassin?"

I took a bite of my own sad-looking-but-great-personality apple. "Well, it wasn't really my choice. I was told to come here, so I did. Besides, my grandfather was one, so I see it as more of carrying on the family legacy. Why are you here?"

"We are not so different, you and I," he said. "I did not get much of a choice in the deciding of my fate, either. I was told to come here, so I did."

He wasn't much of a talker either. I could already tell that Thomas would have a hard time getting along with him - Thomas was a fast-talker and generally had little patience for the quieter folk like Ratonhnhaké:ton.

Once we both had eaten, I suggested we meet the old man outside, to which he did not complain. A worn dirt path, overlooking the cliffs and the bay, led from the back door to the extensive stables where Achilles was now standing, feeding a handful of grass to a grey horse. There were two stable buildings in total, and they were connected in a perpendicular L shape. The courtyard before them had been cleared of any obstacles and carts, likely for whatever purpose Achilles had planned for us this lovely day.

And what a lovely plan he had for us that day. After an hour of verbal lecture and explanation, he had us spar one another in the blazing heat, using sticks as makeshift swords, and let me tell you something, I had never been more grateful for all the training Ryan had put me through while he still lived, God rest his soul, because with it I actually stood a chance against Ratonhnhaké:ton.