47 Betrayal Of The Heart
His vision was foggy and his body ached as he tried to open his eyes. Thomas groaned, leaning forward as he tried to focus on his surroundings. As he tried to rub his eyes, he found that his arms didn't respond.
Wait, where was he?
Despite his clouded vision, he managed to make out high walls, boarded up windows and a blonde haired woman standing in front of him.
"So you're awake them?" Elizabeth remarked to the assassin, bound to the chair, the drug still yet to fully wear off.
"Elizabeth..." He grumbled. "What have you done?"
"Well, I suppose its time you knew the full story." She sighed.
"I think you owe me that much." He growled.
She smiled and clasped her hands together.
"My father was initiated into the Templar order many years ago, roughly the same time you began training to be an assassin. You have to know, I did like you, you are a very attractive young man, but oh, so gullible. You thought I loved you." Elizabeth didn't look at him, instead, playing with a necklace. A Templar cross.
"But..." Thomas tried to understand what was happening.
"I was initiated into the Templar order shortly after my father and we quickly worked our way up the ranks, particularly since we had 'close' contacts with an assassin. And so, we heard of this Sage fellow, but, being so far away, we had no way of knowing who or what he is, wether he is fable or truth. So, I left you, knowing you would run away to the furthest known place, Havana, to track Duncan Walpole."
"How did you know I'd be there? How did you know I'd find out about the Sage while I was there?"
"Who do you think convinced Mister Walpole to head there? To ignore that particular sailor until he reached Havana? Then, you'd kill him, learn of the Sage and write back to me, still infatuated by me. And that letter did not disappoint. However, they didn't seem like your words...?"
"They weren't." Thomas bowed his head, remembering Jemima helping him to write that letter, speaking from the heart.
"Hm." She dismissed this and continued. "So, we received assassin information of the Sage, directly to the Templar order. How does it make you feel, knowing you sold out your friends? Your brothers and sisters?"
Thomas couldn't believe it. He had betrayed them.
"And then, you returned, the Sage still alive. Why you spared him baffles me, but it benefits us, so I don't care. You still loved me and came back for me, settling down again in London. But, however, your usefulness is over. You should have stayed in the Bahamas, Thomas."
Elizabeth put a hand on the back of his chair and leaned towards him, her blue eyes dark with evil. The necklace dangled in front of him, the constant reminder of where her loyalty lies.
"Do you still love me, Thomas?" She asked, one hand stroking his cheek.
"How can I? You betrayed me!" He spat.
"You betrayed your Brotherhood, your friends. And they still love you. Or would they, if they knew?"
"I love you enough to spare your life. Walk out of here, don't look back and I will never see you again." Thomas whispered, his voice barely loud enough to hear.
"Oh, no, no, no." She tilted her head back and laughed. "Dear Thomas, I don't think you're in any position to make threats."
Thomas pulled his wrists free and struck her belly with his blade, the surprise alighting on Elizabeth's face more prominent than the expression of pain.
"Dear Elizabeth," he growled. "I don't think you're in any position to refuse."
She gasped, hands shaking as Thomas pulled out the blade, looking down at the gaping wound, blood staining her delicate pink dress.
"How could you?!" She cried, falling to her knees, hands drenched in her own blood.
"Quite easily." He said, standing. "I was ignorant when I betrayed my friends and I was ignorant when I loved you. You betrayed me for your own selfish gain and greed. I don't love you, Elizabeth, not anymore."
"Please, Thomas." With bloodstained hands, she pulled the necklace off and reached for his hands, pressing it into his palms. "Remember me."
Without a word, Thomas pocketed the gift, leaving the dying woman in the warehouse, not looking back as she cried out to anyone who would listen, her voice growing weak as the blood drained from her, along with her life.
Thomas stopped as the Templars surrounded him, Lovett standing in front of them, leading the charge.
The lone assassin stood strong, his wrist blades extended, still dripping with Elizabeth's blood.
Seeing it, Lovett cursed.
In fury, he turned to the other Templars, waving them forward. Some were soldiers, others were dressed as gentlemen but as equally dangerous.
The Templars took a step forward but white flashes cut them down, springing from the shadows. Wide eyed, Thomas' mouth hung open as a dozen assassins stood from the corpses.
Lovett turned and took a step back, fear striking him, knowing he was outnumbered. One assassin approached the last Templar, his face sombre as he punched his wrist blade through Lovett's heart. The Templar choked and fell to his knees. The assassin kicked him in the head, stepping over the dying man and towards Thomas.
He flicked his hood back and gave Thomas a grin.
Honestly, Thomas had never been so happy to see the boy.
"What are you doing here?"
"I've been following you for a while now and figured you'd need some help." He shrugged. "I got some people together."
Thomas nodded to the men and women, there for him in his time of need.
"All this time, while I've been alone, you've been watching me on the field missions?"
William nodded, grinning at Thomas' surprised face.
"You've come a long way, lad. You've learnt well. So, what now?" Thomas sighed, turning back to the still form inside the warehouse, lying in a pool of her own blood.
William smiled and put a hand on his shoulder.
"It's time you went home."
Thomas stood aboard the back of the ship as it slipped out of London. Whether he would see the city again, he didn't know. He wouldn't miss it, there was nothing left for him there now.
He and William had parted as friends, the boy now a fully capable assassin and would soon take Thomas' position. The number of Templars in London fell dramatically, either by death, or them fleeing the city, the assassins knew it would be a quiet couple of months.
Thomas watched the Thames rush along around the ship, feeling at home already just hearing the sound of the water.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Templar necklace, decorated in bloody fingerprints. Glancing to the water, he remembered the words of a dear friend. Indeed, below the surface, there were many dark memories, left behind by all those who had been hurt.
"I'm not going to remember you, Elizabeth." Thomas said aloud. "You hold no place in my heart anymore."
And with that, he threw the necklace, watching as it slipped into the river Thames and down below the surface, vanishing from sight.
Thomas left London, England behind to go home, back to the Bahamas, back to his friends and back to Jemima.