Weatherall’s face was very, very dark. The fury seemed to roll off him in waves. “I would sooner take my own life than allow you to take it, boy.”
“That’s your choice. Either way your corpse is on the floor when I leave or the girl dies.”
“And what about the girl?”
“She lives,” he said. “I take her with me, then let her go when I’m clear and sure you’re not trying to double-cross me.”
“How do we know you won’t kill her?”
“Why would I?”
“Mr. Weatherall,” I began, “there’s no way we’re letting him take Helene. We’re not . . .”
Weatherall interrupted me. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Dorian, let me just hear it from Ruddock here. Let me just hear the lie from his mouth, because the bounty isn’t just for Élise’s protector, is it, Ruddock? It’s for her protector and her lady’s maid, Ruddock. You’ve no intention of letting Helene go.”
Ruddock’s shoulders rose and fell as his breathing became heavier, his options narrowing by the second.
“I’m not leaving here empty-handed,” he said, “just so you can hunt me down and kill me another time.”
“What other choice do you have? Either people die and one of them is you, or you leave and spend the rest of your life as a marked man.”
“I’m taking the letters,” he said, finally. “Hand me the letters, and I’ll let the girl go when I’m clear.”
“You’re not taking Helene,” I said. “You can take the letters, but Helene never leaves this lodge.”
I wonder if he appreciated the irony that had he not followed me, had he just waited in Versailles, I would have brought him the letters.
“You’ll come after me,” he said, uncertainly. “As soon as I let go of her.”
“I won’t,” I said. “You have my word of honor. You may have your letters and leave.”
He seemed to decide. “Give me the letters,” he demanded.
Weatherall reached into the trunk, took the sheaf of letters and held them up.
“You,” Ruddock told Jacques, “lover boy. Put the letters in my bag on my horse and bring it around, then shoo away the Assassin’s mount. Be fast and get back here or she dies.”
Jacques looked from me to Weatherall. We both nodded and he darted out into the moonlight.
The seconds passed and we waited, Helene quiet now, watching us over Ruddock’s forearm as Ruddock covered me with the pistol, his eyes on me, not paying much attention to Weatherall, thinking he posed no threat.
Jacques returned, sidling inside with his eyes on Helene, waiting to collect her.
“Right, is everything ready?” said Ruddock.
I saw Ruddock’s plan flash across his eyes. I saw it so clearly he might as well have said it out loud. His plan was to kill me with the first shot, Jacques with the second, deal with Helene and Weatherall by blade.
Perhaps Weatherall saw it, too. Perhaps Weatherall had been planning his move all along. Whatever the truth, I don’t know, but in the same moment as Ruddock shoved Helene away from himself and swung his gun arm toward me, Weatherall’s hand appeared from within the trunk, the sheath to Élise’s short sword flipped up and away, and the sword itself appeared in his fingers.
And it was so much larger than a throwing knife that I thought he couldn’t possibly find his target, but of course, his knife-throwing skills were at their honed best and the sword twirled and I dived at the same time, hearing the shot and the ball zip past my ear as one sound, regaining my balance and springing my hidden blade, ready to leap and plunge it into Ruddock before he loosed his second shot.
But Ruddock had a sword in his face, his eyes swiveling in opposite directions as his head snapped back and he staggered, his second shot going safely into the ceiling, as his body teetered back, then he fell, dead before he hit the floor.
On Weatherall’s face was a look of grim satisfaction, as though he had laid a ghost to rest.
Helen ran to Jacques and then for some while we just stood, the four of us, looking at one another, then at Ruddock’s prone body, barely able to believe it was all over and that we had survived.
And then, once we had carried Ruddock outside for burial the next day, I collected my horse and went to continue loading my saddlebags. As I did so I felt Helene’s hand on my arm and gazed into eyes that were bloodshot from crying, but no less sincere for that.
“Mr. Dorian, we’d love you stay,” she said. “You could take Élise’s bedchamber.”
12 SEPTEMBER 1794
I’ve stayed here ever since, out of sight and, perhaps even where the Assassins are concerned, out of mind.
I’ve read Élise’s journals, of course, and realized that though we didn’t know enough of each other in our adult lives, I still knew her better than anyone else, because we were the same, she and I, kindred spirits sharing mutual experiences, our paths through life virtually identical.
Except, as I said before, Élise had got there first, and it was she who had come to the conclusion that there could be unity between Assassin and Templar. Finally, from her journal had slipped a letter. It read . . .
Dearest Arno,
If you are reading this then either my trust in Ruddock has been justified, or his greed has prevailed. In either case, if you are reading this, then you have my journals.
Please do this for me, Arno. And think of me. Just as I shall think of you, until we are together again.
Your beloved,
Élise
“Please do this for me, Arno.”
Sitting here now, I wonder if I have the strength. I wonder if I could ever be as strong as she was. I hope so.
LIST OF CHARACTERS
Albertine, Lucio: scholar
Albertine, Monica: Lucio’s mother
Bellec, Pierre: Assassin
Bernard: informant
Birch, Reginald: Templar Grand Master
Burnel, Jean: young Templar
Calvert, Jean-Jacques: Templar
Carroll, Madame: Templar
Carroll, May: Templar, daughter of Madame and Mr. Carroll
Carroll, Mr.: Templar
Christian: shoemaker
de Calonne, Vicomte: French controller-general of finances
de Flesselles, Jacques: French provost of the merchants
de Kilmister, Marquis: Templar
de la Serre, Élise: Templar Grand Master
de la Serre, François: Templar Grand Master, father of Élise
de la Serre, Julie: Templar, mother of Élise
de Launay: governor of the Bastille
de Molay, Jacques: Templar Grand Master
de Pimôdan, Marquis: Templar
de Robespierre, Maximilien: president of the Jacobins
de Simonon, Marquis: Templar
Dorian, Arno: ward of the de la Serre family
Dorian, Charles: Assassin, father of Arno Dorian
Emanuel: the de la Serre family’s gardener
Germain, François Thomas: Templar
Harvey, Mr.: Templar hit man
Helene: Élise’s lady’s maid
Henri: gardener
Hook, Mr.: Templar hit man
Jacques: school groundskeeper
Jean: the de la Serre family’s coachman
Justine: Julie de la Serre’s lady’s maid
Kenway, Edward: Assassin
Kenway, Haytham: Templar Grand Master
La Touche, Aloys: Templar, a Crow
Lafrenière, Chretien: Templar, a Crow
Le Fanu, Claire: wife of Monsieur Le Fanu
Le Fanu, Monsieur: Templar
Le Peletier: Templar, a Crow
Levene, Madame: school’s headmistress
Levesque, Madame: Templar, a Crow
Louis XVI, King: king of France
Marat, Jean Paul: doctor and scientist
Marie Antoinette: queen of France
Mills: Jennifer Scott’s footman
Mirabeau: Master Assassin
Mother Superior: head of Élise’s convent
Olivier: the de la Serre family’s head butler
Poulou, Judith: Élise’s schoolmate
Ruddock: Assassin
Ruth: Élise’s nursemaid
Scott, Miss Jennifer: daughter of Edward Kenway, sister to Haytham
Selene: servingwoman
Sivert, Charles Gabriel: Templar, a Crow
Smith: Jennifer Scott’s butler
Valerie: Élise’s schoolmate
Weatherall, Freddie: Élise’s confidant and protector
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Special thanks to
Yves Guillemot
Aymar Azaizia
Anouk Bachman
Travis Stout
And also
Alain Corre
Laurent Detoc
Sébastien Puel
Geoffroy Sardin
Xavier Guilbert
Tommy François
Christopher Dormoy
Mark Kinkelin
Ceri Young
Russell Lees
James Nadiger
Alexandre Amancio
Mohamed Gambouz
Gilles Beloeil
Vincent Pontbriand
Cecile Russeil
Joshua Meyer
The Ubisoft Legal Department
Etienne Allonier
Antoine Ceszynski
Clément Prevosto
Damien Guillotin
Gwenn Berhault
Alex Clarke
Hana Osman
Andrew Holmes
Chris Marcus
Virginie Sergent
Clémence Deleuze
Looking for more?
Visit Penguin.com for more about this author and a complete list of their books.
Discover your next great read!