The Meeting

This first chapter is called 'The Meeting' because of just that, Connor Kenway, an Assasssin, meeting this mysterious female that refuses to speak. His mission is to bring her back to her home, but just where is she from? They have to travel South until they reach their destination. When he reaches it, he can't believe what he finds. ConnorXOC


1. The Meeting

      A young tanned skinned woman lay on the floor. Her hair was tattered and her clothes ripped in various places leaving the remaining filthy, sweat drenched scraps barely covering her body. An older white man stood over the young girl who was barely even a woman. The man had to be in his early fifties and had a very kind weather worn face. He knelt down to speak with the young girl.

     “You’ll be fine. The one I sent for will be here soon. He can help you in better than I can. Now, drink some water, child.” He said as he tried to hand the young girl a metal cup.

     The girl refused to acknowledge the man’s existence as she stayed close to the hard wood floor in his home. She peered at him through her mangled hair, unsure of his motives toward her. Was he really trying to help her or was he one of the ones that she was forewarned about before coming to this area. For this uncertainty, she refused to cooperate.

     “Here he comes now, yes now you will be in capable hands.” The elder man left the girl and walked out of the house to an approaching man.

     The two men talked for all of three minutes then came into the house to where the scared girl lay. Now that the girl could see the new stranger, she saw that the oncoming man was dressed in a white long tailed coat. She turned her head as he approached her. The man squatted down next to her and reached out to grab for her face. She jerked it as far left, as her head would go. The man only reached further, grabbing the left side of her chin to force her to face him. She lowered her head as she turned as not to make eye contact, causing the man to push back the hair from her face and lift it up so he could study her. The girl finally opened her eyes and to her surprise, she could not see a face to this man in front of her. Instead, the only thing she saw was a low hanging triangular hood that covered much of his face. In fact, the only part she could see of his face was from the tip of his nose down.

     The stranger let go of the girl and stood up, and walked closer to the old white man. “Yes this girl is Indian, but she is not Mohawk.”

     “No? She’s not white, that’s for sure, then what can she be boy? She won’t talk and I was told to keep her here until you came to take her away and return her home. I’ve done what’s been asked of me by the Order, now it’s your turn.” The old man spoke in almost a whisper.

     “I know my mission. I will complete it as ordered.” The young man replied.

     "Young lady, you are in luck, our fine young man here is going to return you to your people.” The old man turned back to face the younger man. “I don’t think she understands me.”

     The old man walked out of the large room of the log cabin house to disappear through a door in the back of the structure. He returned with a box and put in on the floor in front of the girl.

     “Here, I have something that I imagine will fit you, as to get you out of those tattered rags they left you in.” The man walked back to the side of the young man. “You think she understands me? I know that some of the different tribes of Indians don’t like to learn the tongue of the white man.”

     “We are going outside so that you can clean yourself up some before you set off.” The old can yelled over his shoulder as the pair walked out the cabin door.

     The girl lifted herself off the floor and found a bucket of water warming over the fire in the back of the large room she had been the entire time. She took a scrap of clothing that hung from her waist, ripped it off to wet in the water, and cleaned her face. She washed herself and changed into the clothing the man had given her. She rambled through some of the man’s belongings and found a fork. It served her need as she used it to comb her hair. The entire process took all of an hour. The girl made for the door, but first stopped to gaze out of the window at the two men outside talking.

     She furrowed her brows studying the men. The old white man was an open book, but the other was a complete mystery. He was an Indian, but he seemed so far from being what he was supposed to be that it puzzled her. The Indian men in her tribe never spoke that much or let alone held conversations. He was very different indeed. She made her way outside and the hot sun hit her face making her close her eyes and lowered her head in pain. The old man walked up to her.

     "I guess you understand after all. I have a horse that I’m going to lend you to get you back home. I know one day I will get him back, so I reckon I won’t have to worry about missing him. Right, so follow me and the two of you youngins can be on your way.” The trio walked around to the back of the cabin and there stood a big beautiful Pinto.

     "Go on, don't be shy, she won't bite.” The man spoke out.

     The girl had not heard a word the man had said for she had already moved toward the horse staring deep into the Mare’s right eye. She Indian girl extended her right arm for the animal to smell. The Mare was hesitant at first, but the girl was steadfast in her approach, not wavering at the least. The horse calmed down and inched her head cautiously toward the out reached hand to smell it, following that by a nod. This made the girl smile and to caress the creature's face.

     “And where is your horse?” the older man asked the young hooded man, all the while not taking his eyes off the girl and horse.

      "He is close, do not worry. When they left this girl with you, they said nothing about where she came from or…” being cut off.

      “Look, I know nothing about her, only that I was to keep her safe until you came here and that she was attacked by three white men. I was supposed to be some less than educated man. I don’t want to get involved. My days helping the Assassins are over. I’ve retired and if it weren’t for a favor that I owed one of your Mentors, then that young girl over there’d be dead by now. My debt is paid and I hope I never see another Assassin to save my life. Call your horse and be gone son, the faster the better, there’s a storm brewing and it’s not the weather I’m talking about. Peace be with you.” The two men shook hands.

      The hooded man whistled and out from the woods behind the log fence where the Mare was contained ran a big beautiful black Stallion. The hooded man pulled up on the saddle to mount his beast and joined the girl already upon the Pinto. He pulled his horse alongside of hers and studied her profile closely, trying to figure out exactly which type of Indian she was. The girl was not as dark as the others in the Indian Tribes he had come across in his travels here in the Northeast or in the Midwest. She had a light tan, not a deep dark brown that he was used to. Her eyes were a light shade of brown, not dark, her hair was the deep dark black that he was used to, but it was not straight. This girl was an enigma that intrigued him.

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