From Assassin’s Creed: Forsaken by Oliver Bowden
“Father,” he said, when I had him down and the blade to his throat.
“Connor,” I said sardonically. “Any last word?”
“A poor choice.”
He struggled, and his eyes blazed. ” Come to check up on Church, have you? Make sure he’s stolen enough for your English brothers?”
“Benjamin Church is no brother of mine.” I tutted. ” No more than the redcoats or their idiot king. I expect naivety. But this…The Templars do not fight for the Crown. We seek the same as you, boy. Freedom. Justice. Independent.”
“But what?” I asked.
“Johnson. Pitcairn. Hickey. They tried to steal land. To sack towns. To murder George Washington.”
I sighed. “Johnson sought to own the land that we might keep it safe. Putcairn aimed to encourage diplomacy - which you cocked up thoroughly enough to start the goddamned war. And Hickey? George Washington is a wretched leader. He’s lost nearly every battle in which he’s taken part. The man’s wracked by uncertainty and insecurity. Take one look at Vally Forge and you know my words are true. We’d all be better off without him.”
What I was saying had an effect on him, I could tell.
“Look - much I’d love to Sara with you, Benjamin Church’s mouth is as big as his ego. You clearly want the supplies he’s stolen; I want him punished. Our interests are aligned.”
“What do you purpose?” he said warily.
What did I purpose? I thought. I saw his eyes go to the amulet at my throat and mine in turn went to the necklace he wore. No doubt his mother tell him about the amulet; no doubt he would want to take it from me. On the other hand, the emblems we wore around our necked were both reminders of her.
“A truce,” I said. “Perhaps - perhaps some time together will do us good. You are my son, after all, and might still be saved from your ignorance.”
There was a pause.
“Or I can kill you now, if you’d prefer?” I laughed.
“Do you know where Church has gone?” He asked.
“Afraid not. I’d hope to ambush him when he or one of his men returned here. But seems I was too late. They’ve come and cleared the place out.”
“I might be able to track him.” he said, with an oddly proudly note in his voice. I stood by and watched as he gave me an ostentatious demonstration of Achille’s training, pointing to marks on the church floor where the crates had been dragged.
“The cargo was heavy,” he said, “It was probably loaded on to a wagon for transport…There were rations inside the crates - medical supplies and clothing as well.”
Outside the church, Connor gestured to some churned-up snow. “There was a wagon here…slowly weighed down as they loaded it with the supplies. Snow’s obscured the tracks, but enough remains that we can still follow. Come on…”