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Description
An Assassin's Pledge

An Assassin's Pledge is entirely fictional. The setting and timeframe are real, but this tale involves some fictional events as well as fictional characters.

Prologue

It was March 26th, 1764. An evening long to remember. It started off like almost any other evening, performing my duties as a newly wedded wife. Thomas , my husband, a man of few words, yet as keen as an eagle, spent the day watching over the property. Our land meant a great deal to him. Whether it was caring for the livestock, or growing crops. I loved the man for those qualities. There was nothing that Thomas would NOT do for me. Most couples I come across involve the woman enduring the most physical labor. Men have no clue what "labor" is. Same issue can not be said for sweet ol' Tom.

We crossed paths in Boston almost 2 years ago. Thomas worked as an assistant to a wood manufacturer. Me? I was just a bartender. There were times when I enjoyed it. I would meet a few groups of folks here and there, but not always. Everything feels great until "they" show up. The men who walk in the bar, getting drunk off their asses. I was asked to "put on a show" in order to get paid extra. It was disgraceful. I knew that they wouldn't pay. They would laugh it off and the owner of the inn did nothing to shut them up. As for the owner's wife, now that's a tale which boils deep inside my being.

Her name was Julia Wetherston, a woman who's appearance surely matched her attitude. I never met a woman who was ever as aggressive and self centered like her before. She never considered other's emotions, always preaching her judgement upon anyone and everyone. I'm not surprised to see guests leave with Julia in charge. Her husband owned the damn inn in the first place.

What made her head fume must of been troublesome. I owe Thomas my debt. If he and I hadn't met one cold night, I would still be in that hell hole. It wasn't long before we got married. I knew that marriage was bound to occur at any time, but this was different from any others I've witnessed. I honestly was in love with that man. Never before have I seen a man treat me with such dignity. Being able to see a different side of life helped in the end.

The wedding was one of the happiest moments in my lifetime. For I had experienced very few. Why not embrace the emotions and enjoy this feeling while it lasts? Everyone's life is different, although some may be the same. One thought lingered deep in my mind that was troubling. I was in fear of my past intervening with the gifts God has given me.

I am an assassin. Never in my life, had I believed that I was chosen for such a lifestyle. My family raised me. Not just as a daughter, but as a fighter, a murderer, an assassin. The Assassins have been in a endless struggle, a struggle to fend off a organization known as the Templars. Templars want nothing more than control, power, and authority above all. Assassins such as myself, fight for freedom from the Templar order's antics, so we can be rid of the corruption once and for all.

Many hardships have erupted, some seeming unbearable to any woman or man. I upheld my duties, receiving knowledge from my Creed. "Nothing is true. Everything is permitted." I never fully understood its meaning. How is it possible for the Templar order to rise again and again? Will the conflict ever end? Assisting the innocent and ridding any of the Templars' schemes was my goal.

My mentor, Samuel Clerk, an assassin who used discipline to judge on whether or not a person was able to represent the Assassins with pride. Who would of assumed that Samuel, a well known friend of my family, kept the same secret and responsibility which would eventually consume my livelihood. I sent countless nights, being pushed to my limits. There have been times where I could feel my muscles ache. My legs would shake, having to keep fighting, no matter the weather or what physical condition I was in. Only now do I realize the purpose of all the punishment.

In order to become a true warrior, I needed to suffer. To suffer physically, emotionally, and mentally. The training was a success. I was then directed to begin my search for the Templars. Over time, my quest, my passion, became a legacy. Due to my accomplishments, I shortly turned into a target. A bounty was upon my head for whoever could bring me to "justice". No such "justice" was made.

Once I fell in love with Thomas, I knew if I didn't retire my duties from the Creed, my actions would cost me dearly. I would be putting Thomas, our marriage, and our baby at risk. Thomas never knew about my secret. How could I tell him? Would he think of me as the same woman whom he married? It was for the best if we were to have a family.

Our marriage took place in a meadow on the outskirts of Philadelphia. The ceremony wasn't extraordinary, only family members and close friends attended. I wore a simple dress, smiling as I walked down the aisle. Thomas, oh was he handsome. I never seen him so finely dressed before. Once we met each other, hand in hand, we said our vows to one another, making it official with a passionate kiss.

When the ceremony ended, I took the time to discuss my decision with Samuel in private. Being the passionate mentor that he is, Samuel was not pleased. He had every right to be. But the choice was mine and mine alone. I explained the circumstances, convincing him to respect my best wishes.

I began walking along, until Samuel stopped me for a moment. He mentioned a important piece of information regarding possible names and whereabouts of other Templars, handing me a chest. The last thing I ever wanted was to lie to my mentor, but I could not take the risk. I promised to open the chest and read the document within when I could, but I never did. Not with all the bounties and manhunts for my head.

That leads to where I am now. Thomas built our house where we were married. We had little coins, grateful enough to even have food for survival. My dear husband went through all labor, beginning construction of the house while my sister, Serene, along with her husband, Ernest, allowed us to stay with them. We didn't have a choice.

Ernest was a dirty hound, a dirty hound who didn't know his place. Despite being married to Serene, Ernest took any opportunity he could to "make me feel good". It was sickening! One evening, all the anger busted out of me. I hollered, screaming at him. Serene never stood up for herself. I did for my older sister instead. Thomas joined in, not pleased with how Ernest behaved either.

We banished him from the house, threatening to hurt Ernest severely if he showed his disgraceful carcass around Philadelphia ever again.

"I will find you one day! And make you my servant you whore!"

I loved Thomas even more that evening. He went out in the pouring rain, furious and gave Ernest what he long deserved. They physicslly fought for awhile. Ernest got the upper hand, hitting my husband with a plank of wood. I could of taken Ernest by myself, but deep down, I sensed Thomas wanting to prove his devotion to me. As much as I despised seeing Ernest win cheaply, witnessing my husband fight made me proud just the same. Ernest fled to whatever rat hole he came from. I was pleased to be rid of him. Afterwards, my sister expressed her thanks. She no longer had THAT thorn in her side.

My night was far from over. I felt... wanting. Never has such a feeling emerged in my mind, my being. It felt so perfect, being rid of Ernest, marrying Thomas. It was a new beginning, one I only had dreamed of, yet it became true. I led him to our room, revealing my sole desire for him. He was quite surprised, but he caught on. The passion between us was unbreakable. The Brotherhood kept this life from me. At last... I could be at peace.

Nine months have past. Good fortune has been brought upon me. Thomas and I now live on our own, the house finally finished. I'm expected to have a child within the day. Luckily, a doctor resides close by if needed. The time soon approached. Pain overcame me as I called for Thomas's assistance. He fetched the doctor, who advised me to lay on a bed.

Did I have a choice? I followed his instructions, suffering through the ache. No man would be able to experience such misery. I pushed and pushed as Thomas held my hand in comfort. My eyes shut, screaming in agony. I could hear a baby crying. I panted, feeling relieved. Tears slided down my face as I listened to the sounds of a new life. A new chapter in the making.

I opened my eyes after gaining my breath. Thomas was holding our child, a smile carved from his lips. Resting, I gazed at the ceiling endlessly until my husband called out my name. I shifted my head to the side, watching him walk toward me. He smiled again, giving me the baby.

"It's a boy."

The baby's presence filled my soul with glee, cradling him in my arms. He had the texture of my hide, the color of my fur. I always tired to envision how my child would feel, look, and behave. It was a site beyond my comprehension.

Upon his face, I noticed a birthmark. It was a dark shade of brown, almost as if it clawed down his cheek. The doctor offered us his sincerity and wished my husband and myself the best for the boy. I could only glance up at Thomas, smiling. He gave the doctor our dearest thanks and gratitude, leading him out of our home. Footsteps creaked along the wooden floor, Thomas had returned, sitting in a chair. The room remained peaceful, only our baby's crying echoed through our haven.

I covered the boy up with a blanket, looking at Thomas, who was now gazing out, out into the open and unknown world. The child's cries soon ended. We remained in the room for what seemed to be hours, in wonder of our newborn. I soon realized, that my duties would now be that of being a responsible and caring mother. My only fear was that my profession, which I have kept from my own husband, would put us all in grave peril. I now had the same fear for my child.

The night sky soon shadowed over, as I drifted away from my deep thoughts. Thomas lit a lantern he kept in the room, glancing over at me. His posture was relaxed, discussing with me on what our child’s name could be. It did not take me long to give him a suggestion, which he gladly accepted. Our beloved son, from this day forward, would be forever known as, Rhys.

Description
An Assassin's Pledge

An Assassin's Pledge is entirely fictional. The setting and timeframe are real, but this tale involves some fictional events as well as fictional characters.

Prologue

It was March 26th, 1764. An evening long to remember. It started off like almost any other evening, performing my duties as a newly wedded wife. Thomas , my husband, a man of few words, yet as keen as an eagle, spent the day watching over the property. Our land meant a great deal to him. Whether it was caring for the livestock, or growing crops. I loved the man for those qualities. There was nothing that Thomas would NOT do for me. Most couples I come across involve the woman enduring the most physical labor. Men have no clue what "labor" is. Same issue can not be said for sweet ol' Tom.

We crossed paths in Boston almost 2 years ago. Thomas worked as an assistant to a wood manufacturer. Me? I was just a bartender. There were times when I enjoyed it. I would meet a few groups of folks here and there, but not always. Everything feels great until "they" show up. The men who walk in the bar, getting drunk off their asses. I was asked to "put on a show" in order to get paid extra. It was disgraceful. I knew that they wouldn't pay. They would laugh it off and the owner of the inn did nothing to shut them up. As for the owner's wife, now that's a tale which boils deep inside my being.

Her name was Julia Wetherston, a woman who's appearance surely matched her attitude. I never met a woman who was ever as aggressive and self centered like her before. She never considered other's emotions, always preaching her judgement upon anyone and everyone. I'm not surprised to see guests leave with Julia in charge. Her husband owned the damn inn in the first place.

What made her head fume must of been troublesome. I owe Thomas my debt. If he and I hadn't met one cold night, I would still be in that hell hole. It wasn't long before we got married. I knew that marriage was bound to occur at any time, but this was different from any others I've witnessed. I honestly was in love with that man. Never before have I seen a man treat me with such dignity. Being able to see a different side of life helped in the end.

The wedding was one of the happiest moments in my lifetime. For I had experienced very few. Why not embrace the emotions and enjoy this feeling while it lasts? Everyone's life is different, although some may be the same. One thought lingered deep in my mind that was troubling. I was in fear of my past intervening with the gifts God has given me.

I am an assassin. Never in my life, had I believed that I was chosen for such a lifestyle. My family raised me. Not just as a daughter, but as a fighter, a murderer, an assassin. The Assassins have been in a endless struggle, a struggle to fend off a organization known as the Templars. Templars want nothing more than control, power, and authority above all. Assassins such as myself, fight for freedom from the Templar order's antics, so we can be rid of the corruption once and for all.

Many hardships have erupted, some seeming unbearable to any woman or man. I upheld my duties, receiving knowledge from my Creed. "Nothing is true. Everything is permitted." I never fully understood its meaning. How is it possible for the Templar order to rise again and again? Will the conflict ever end? Assisting the innocent and ridding any of the Templars' schemes was my goal.

My mentor, Samuel Clerk, an assassin who used discipline to judge on whether or not a person was able to represent the Assassins with pride. Who would of assumed that Samuel, a well known friend of my family, kept the same secret and responsibility which would eventually consume my livelihood. I sent countless nights, being pushed to my limits. There have been times where I could feel my muscles ache. My legs would shake, having to keep fighting, no matter the weather or what physical condition I was in. Only now do I realize the purpose of all the punishment.

In order to become a true warrior, I needed to suffer. To suffer physically, emotionally, and mentally. The training was a success. I was then directed to begin my search for the Templars. Over time, my quest, my passion, became a legacy. Due to my accomplishments, I shortly turned into a target. A bounty was upon my head for whoever could bring me to "justice". No such "justice" was made.

Once I fell in love with Thomas, I knew if I didn't retire my duties from the Creed, my actions would cost me dearly. I would be putting Thomas, our marriage, and our baby at risk. Thomas never knew about my secret. How could I tell him? Would he think of me as the same woman whom he married? It was for the best if we were to have a family.

Our marriage took place in a meadow on the outskirts of Philadelphia. The ceremony wasn't extraordinary, only family members and close friends attended. I wore a simple dress, smiling as I walked down the aisle. Thomas, oh was he handsome. I never seen him so finely dressed before. Once we met each other, hand in hand, we said our vows to one another, making it official with a passionate kiss.

When the ceremony ended, I took the time to discuss my decision with Samuel in private. Being the passionate mentor that he is, Samuel was not pleased. He had every right to be. But the choice was mine and mine alone. I explained the circumstances, convincing him to respect my best wishes.

I began walking along, until Samuel stopped me for a moment. He mentioned a important piece of information regarding possible names and whereabouts of other Templars, handing me a chest. The last thing I ever wanted was to lie to my mentor, but I could not take the risk. I promised to open the chest and read the document within when I could, but I never did. Not with all the bounties and manhunts for my head.

That leads to where I am now. Thomas built our house where we were married. We had little coins, grateful enough to even have food for survival. My dear husband went through all labor, beginning construction of the house while my sister, Serene, along with her husband, Ernest, allowed us to stay with them. We didn't have a choice.

Ernest was a dirty hound, a dirty hound who didn't know his place. Despite being married to Serene, Ernest took any opportunity he could to "make me feel good". It was sickening! One evening, all the anger busted out of me. I hollered, screaming at him. Serene never stood up for herself. I did for my older sister instead. Thomas joined in, not pleased with how Ernest behaved either.

We banished him from the house, threatening to hurt Ernest severely if he showed his disgraceful carcass around Philadelphia ever again.

"I will find you one day! And make you my servant you whore!"

I loved Thomas even more that evening. He went out in the pouring rain, furious and gave Ernest what he long deserved. They physicslly fought for awhile. Ernest got the upper hand, hitting my husband with a plank of wood. I could of taken Ernest by myself, but deep down, I sensed Thomas wanting to prove his devotion to me. As much as I despised seeing Ernest win cheaply, witnessing my husband fight made me proud just the same. Ernest fled to whatever rat hole he came from. I was pleased to be rid of him. Afterwards, my sister expressed her thanks. She no longer had THAT thorn in her side.

My night was far from over. I felt... wanting. Never has such a feeling emerged in my mind, my being. It felt so perfect, being rid of Ernest, marrying Thomas. It was a new beginning, one I only had dreamed of, yet it became true. I led him to our room, revealing my sole desire for him. He was quite surprised, but he caught on. The passion between us was unbreakable. The Brotherhood kept this life from me. At last... I could be at peace.

Nine months have past. Good fortune has been brought upon me. Thomas and I now live on our own, the house finally finished. I'm expected to have a child within the day. Luckily, a doctor resides close by if needed. The time soon approached. Pain overcame me as I called for Thomas's assistance. He fetched the doctor, who advised me to lay on a bed.

Did I have a choice? I followed his instructions, suffering through the ache. No man would be able to experience such misery. I pushed and pushed as Thomas held my hand in comfort. My eyes shut, screaming in agony. I could hear a baby crying. I panted, feeling relieved. Tears slided down my face as I listened to the sounds of a new life. A new chapter in the making.

I opened my eyes after gaining my breath. Thomas was holding our child, a smile carved from his lips. Resting, I gazed at the ceiling endlessly until my husband called out my name. I shifted my head to the side, watching him walk toward me. He smiled again, giving me the baby.

"It's a boy."

The baby's presence filled my soul with glee, cradling him in my arms. He had the texture of my hide, the color of my fur. I always tired to envision how my child would feel, look, and behave. It was a site beyond my comprehension.

Upon his face, I noticed a birthmark. It was a dark shade of brown, almost as if it clawed down his cheek. The doctor offered us his sincerity and wished my husband and myself the best for the boy. I could only glance up at Thomas, smiling. He gave the doctor our dearest thanks and gratitude, leading him out of our home. Footsteps creaked along the wooden floor, Thomas had returned, sitting in a chair. The room remained peaceful, only our baby's crying echoed through our haven.

I covered the boy up with a blanket, looking at Thomas, who was now gazing out, out into the open and unknown world. The child's cries soon ended. We remained in the room for what seemed to be hours, in wonder of our newborn. I soon realized, that my duties would now be that of being a responsible and caring mother. My only fear was that my profession, which I have kept from my own husband, would put us all in grave peril. I now had the same fear for my child.

The night sky soon shadowed over, as I drifted away from my deep thoughts. Thomas lit a lantern he kept in the room, glancing over at me. His posture was relaxed, discussing with me on what our child’s name could be. It did not take me long to give him a suggestion, which he gladly accepted. Our beloved son, from this day forward, would be forever known as, Rhys.