System in Assassin's Creed

Chapter 117: Chapter 116: £500,000 Wager

[Current Balance: £117,113,796 5s. 7d.]

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Deep beneath the Kenway Mansion, the sounds of combat echoed in the expansive underground training grounds. Light streamed down from opening high above, illuminating the packed circle tiled platform surrounded by water where Reuben currently faced two opponents... Flavia Auditore and Thulani.

It had been many months since their arrival in Bristol... February, Reuben recalled, fleeing the Templar threat in Italy thanks to Captain Oldgate.

They, along with Matteo and the surviving Auditore Assassins, had been welcomed into the Kenway Estate, finding a safe haven and a well-equipped place to continue their training.

Today’s spar was intense. Thulani, the massive bodyguard whose strength was further amplified by the Asura’s Crest Alaric had given him, swung his enormous greatsword in powerful arcs, each blow capable of shattering stone.

Flavia darted around him, a whirlwind of flashing steel, her sword, dagger, and hidden blade seeking openings with deadly Assassin precision. Watching from the sidelines were several of the Italian Assassins, along with Alaric’s father, Leonard, and uncle, Bernard Kenway, their expressions a mixture of awe and concentration.

But Reuben was different now. The past year and a half of constant conflict in Italy, combined with Alaric’s training and the power of the Sword of Damokles, had honed him into something far beyond what he once was.

He moved with blinding speed, the golden glow of the Isu blade became a blur as he simultaneously parried Thulani’s crushing overhead blow and sidestepped Flavia’s swift dagger thrust.

He was faster, stronger, and his combat instincts that was sharpened by countless life-or-death battles allowed him to anticipate their coordinated attacks. He flowed between them, using Thulani’s brute force against Flavia’s agility, redirecting blows, creating openings where none should exist.

Flavia lunged with her hidden blade; Reuben deflected it with his dagger, spun, and used the flat of the Sword of Damokles to slap Thulani’s greatsword aside, leaving both opponents momentarily off balance.

Before they could recover, Reuben moved. In a flash, he closed the distance. The point of his dagger rested gently against the pulse point on Flavia’s neck, stopping her cold. Simultaneously, the glowing edge of the Sword of Damokles hovered a hair’s breadth from Thulani’s throat.

Silence fell in the training ground. All three fighters were sweating profusely, their chests heaving. Flavia, in particular, was panting hard, her eyes wide with a mixture of frustration and respect. Thulani simply lowered his greatsword slowly, acknowledging defeat with a grunt.

Reuben held his position for a moment longer, then retracted his blades, offering both opponents a respectful nod.

From the sidelines, Leonard and Bernard Kenway exchanged impressed glances. Matteo Auditore nodded slowly, a look of pride on his face as he watched his daughter and her formidable partner.

As Reuben, Flavia, and Thulani caught their breath, other Assassins moved onto the training floor to begin their own sparring sessions. The main group that was Reuben, Flavia, Thulani, Leonard, Bernard, and Matteo headed towards the stairs leading up into the mansion proper.

They emerged from the hidden passage into the grand foyer of the Kenway Mansion, the sounds of training replaced by the quiet elegance of the estate. They walked towards the large dining room, where Eleanor Kenway and Linette Kenway were seated at the long table, sipping steaming cups of Celestial Tea and chatting quietly.

Bernard immediately went to sit beside his wife, Linette, while Leonard took the seat next to Eleanor. Reuben, Flavia, Thulani, and Matteo followed suit, finding empty chairs around the massive table.

It felt strange, sometimes, this peaceful domesticity after the dangers they had faced. It had been nearly two years since Alaric had left Bristol for London on what was supposed to be a short trip.

His letter, delivered by Oldgate months ago, had been a relief, confirming he was alive and well, though his extended absence and cryptic mention of travels still caused worry. The family business, however, thrived beyond anyone’s wildest expectations, making all of them incredibly wealthy despite the small percentages gifted by Alaric.

Eleanor smiled warmly as the others sat down. ”Good sparring session?” she asked gently.

Flavia managed a tired smile. ”Reuben improves every day, Signora Kenway. It is... difficult to keep up.”

Just as Bernard was about to make a teasing comment, the main doors to the dining room opened. Jonathan Hugh, the ever-present butler, stepped inside. But it wasn’t Jonathan who drew everyone’s attention.

Behind him stood a tall young man with striking platinum blonde hair, wearing fine clothes and a crimson coat draped over his shoulders like a cape. He carried several bags, looking around the familiar room with an unreadable expression.

Entering after him was a woman of breathtaking beauty and unusual height. And behind her, looking slightly out of place in the opulent mansion, was a large, white-bearded man who looked suspiciously like a sea captain.

Everyone at the table froze. Cups paused halfway to lips. Conversations died. Eleanor gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Leonard and Bernard shot to their feet. Matteo’s eyes widened in recognition of the captain. Reuben and Flavia stared, stunned.

Alaric Kenway was home.

He offered a small, almost hesitant smile as he met his parents’ shocked gazes. He stepped forward, setting the bags down. ”Mother. Father. Uncle. Aunt.” He nodded to each in turn.

Then, he gestured to the woman beside him, who looked suddenly nervous despite her imposing presence. ”Allow me to introduce Kassandra,” he said, his voice clear in the stunned silence. ”My wife.”

The shock deepened. Eleanor and Leonard, usually so reserved, rushed forward, overwhelming Alaric with questions and welcomes, their relief and joy evident.

”Alaric! You’re back! Oh, thank the Lord!” Eleanor exclaimed, tears in her eyes, before turning to Kassandra with a warm, welcoming smile despite her surprise. ”And Kassandra! Welcome, my dear! You are so beautiful! When did this happen? When is the wedding?” Leonard stood beside his wife, looking Kassandra up and down with open curiosity and paternal approval.

Bernard recovered first, letting out a booming laugh. ”Ha! The prodigal son returns! And leashed, no less!” he shouted teasingly towards Alaric. Linette promptly elbowed him sharply in the ribs, silencing him with a glare, which only made Reuben, Flavia, and Thulani chuckle.

Oldgate shuffled awkwardly near the doorway, observing the chaotic family reunion. Alaric extricated himself from his parents, laughing.

”Easy, Mother, Father! Give her some air!” He guided Kassandra forward. Amidst the flurry of introductions, questions, and laughter, Oldgate was drawn into the fold, shaking hands, accepting offered tea, and looking thoroughly bemused by the entire situation.

Kassandra, despite her initial nervousness, seemed to relax slightly under the genuine warmth of the Kenway family’s welcome.

---

Hours flew by in a whirlwind of catching up, introductions, and shared relief. Kassandra, after the initial shock of meeting Alaric’s family, handled the situation with surprising grace. She shared carefully selected details about her past, albeit with half truths... mentioning her mother Myrrine, her estranged father Pythagoras, her beloved stepfather Nikolaos, and her younger brother Alexios.

When gently asked about their whereabouts, she offered a sad, practiced smile, explaining they had all passed away many years ago due to illness, adding that she had long since made peace with their fate. The Kenways offered heartfelt condolences, their warmth genuine. Oldgate mostly observed, enjoying the free-flowing ale Jonathan provided and occasionally interjecting a salty comment or a laugh.

Eventually, the initial excitement settled, and a smaller group convened in Alaric’s spacious.

Alaric sat on one plush sofa, Kassandra nestled comfortably beside him, her earlier nervousness was now replaced by a quiet curiosity about this part of Alaric’s life.

Across from them, on another sofa, sat Reuben and Flavia, with Matteo positioned strategically between them, as he was ever the watchful father and Mentor.

Thulani and Captain Oldgate occupied sturdy armchairs nearby. Jonathan served everyone cups of steaming Celestial Tea before taking his own seat.

The comfortable silence stretched for a few moments as everyone sipped their tea, enjoying the simple act of being together after so long apart for Alaric, and integrating new faces for the others. Alaric finally broke the quiet, setting his cup down.

”So...” he began, looking primarily at Reuben, Flavia, and Matteo. ”I already heard the gist from Whitebeard about what happened back in Tuscany, but care to provide some more details? Sounds like you guys stirred up quite the hornet’s nest.”

Reuben took another sip of his tea, gathering his thoughts. He glanced at Flavia, then met Alaric’s gaze. ”It started small, ’Laric...”

”After you left, Flavia and I... well, we started working together more formally with the Brotherhood here.” Reuben nodded towards Matteo. ”Maestro Auditore gave us assignments, mostly tracking Templar movements, disrupting supply lines, things like that. But...” He hesitated.

”But Reuben has a knack for finding trouble,” Flavia interjected with a wry smile, though her eyes held a spark of pride. ”Or perhaps, trouble finds him. We uncovered a network involved in smuggling artifacts out of Italy, led by a corrupt Papal official with Templar ties. Taking him down led us to another target, then another.”

Matteo nodded gravely. ”Their success was... remarkable. Beyond expectations. They dismantled Templar operations in Florence, Siena, even made inroads into Venice and Rome itself. They became whispers in the underworld, then legends.” He sighed. ”Perhaps too legendary.”

”We followed the mission you gave me, ’Laric,” Reuben continued, picking up the thread. ”To get stronger, become known... but maybe we became too known. The Templars started connecting the dots, realizing the attacks weren’t random. They identified Monteriggioni, the Villa, as our base of operations.”

”We started noticing increased patrols, more spies...” Flavia added, her expression turning grim. ”Then came the whispers of a large military force gathering near Rome, under Templar command.”

”That’s when I had the... nightmare,” Reuben said, looking slightly uncomfortable admitting it. ”Felt real as day. Soldiers pouring over the walls, fire, death... Woke up in a cold sweat. I couldn’t shake the feeling.”

”He was insistent,” Matteo confirmed. ”Convinced everyone... well, almost everyone... that we needed to evacuate the Villa immediately, just as a precaution. We relocated the bulk of our people, the trainees, the archives we could carry, to Livorno under the guise of a training exercise.”

”Padre stayed behind with a small group to confirm,” Flavia said, her hand briefly touching her father’s arm.

”And Reuben’s ’nightmare’ proved true,” Matteo finished grimly. ”Scouts reported over a thousand soldiers marching on the road from Florence. Papal troops, led by known Templar commanders. We barely managed to slip away ourselves and rendezvous with the others in Livorno.”

”And that’s where I came in,” Oldgate added, taking a swig of tea as if it were rum. ”Found ’em huddled on the docks, looking for fast passage out of Italy altogether. Made ’em a fair offer, sailed ’em straight here to Bristol. Good lads, fierce fighters, the lot of ’em.” He chuckled. ”Though that Flavia lass drives a hard bargain on passage fees.”

Flavia smirked slightly but didn’t comment.

Reuben looked back at Alaric. ”So, we arrived here... months ago, February it was. Your family took them in, gave them refuge. We’ve been training, helping Jonathan and Thulani where we can, waiting for... well, for you, I suppose.”

Alaric nodded slowly, absorbing the details. He took a drag from his cigar before turning his attention to the Maestro Assassino. ”Well, it’s unfortunate that you had to relocate... but retreating was the right call. You did a good job getting everyone out safely.”

Matteo grunted, swirling the tea in his cup, his pride clearly still wounded. ”A good job? We abandoned our ancestral home, Kenway! Fled like cowards! It was a massive humiliation for the Auditore name, for the Brotherhood!”

Alaric raised his eyebrows slightly, glancing at Reuben who just sighed quietly. ”I understand you feel humiliated, Maestro,” Alaric said calmly, ”but you were facing a thousand soldiers marching directly on your position. Even with Reuben and Flavia’s skills, it would have been a massacre, not a battle. Retreating, preserving your strength, saving your people... that was the strategically sound decision.”

Kassandra, who had been listening intently, nodded in agreement. Matteo couldn’t glare at Alaric, so he glared at her, opening his mouth to retort, but Kassandra spoke first.

”Matteo... right?” she started, meeting his glare without flinching. ”Speaking from my own experience... retreat is not cowardice when it preserves the lives of those who fight for a just cause, allowing them to strike back another day. Pride is a dangerous luxury in war.”

Matteo bristled, clearly unused to being addressed so directly, especially by a woman he didn’t know. ”And who are you to lecture me on war and strategy, woman? Do not meddle in the affairs of the Brotherhood!”

Reuben, Flavia, Thulani, Jonathan, and Oldgate all tensed, their eyes darting nervously towards Alaric. They knew Matteo was letting his wounded pride speak, but they also knew challenging Kassandra, whom Alaric had introduced as his wife, was incredibly risky despite Alaric’s easy going nature.

Alaric, however, remained perfectly calm, taking a slow sip of his tea as if the topic was about the weather. His actions and mood was a huge contrast to the room’s tension.

Kassandra simply chuckled, a low, confident sound that held no amusement. ”I am Kassandra,” she stated plainly, her brown eyes locking onto Matteo’s. ”And since Alaric has involved himself with your Brotherhood, and I am involved with Alaric... your business is now my business.”

’I’ve been involved in this mess for more than all of your ages combined...’ She shook her head slightly, taking a sip of her own tea. ”You may be a Mentor, a Master Assassin in your time... but believe me when I say, in terms of actual warfare, large-scale strategy, and centuries of combat experience... you are still a baby.”

Matteo’s face flushed red, his teeth gritting audibly. He looked ready to explode, but before he could utter a word, Alaric spoke, his voice quiet but carrying undeniable authority. ”It would be wise to listen to her, Maestro...”

He casually reached into his pocket, retrieved his cigar pack, selected one, and placed it between his lips, lighting it with his index finger. He took a slow drag, letting the smoke curl around his face before continuing, ”...A piece of advice from Kassandra can literally shape history. Empires have risen and fallen based on her actions, her strategies.”

A stunned silence filled the office. Matteo stared at Kassandra, then at Alaric, utterly speechless. The others exchanged bewildered glances.

Who was this woman? What was Alaric implying?

Seeing the confusion and lingering doubt on their faces, Alaric took another long drag from his cigar, a thoughtful expression on his face. ”How about this,” he proposed, breaking the silence. ”To settle any doubts... let’s make a friendly wager?”

Everyone looked at him, intrigued.

”Let’s pick an activity,” Alaric continued, ”something everyone here agrees is a fair test of skill... could be sparring, could be target practice, could be a race, be it physical or mental games, whatever you choose.” He gestured towards Kassandra. ”Kassandra participates against... well, all of you who doubt her.”

He looked around the room, meeting the eyes of Matteo, Reuben, Flavia, Thulani, Jonathan, and even Oldgate. ”If Kassandra wins, then her point is proven, yes? No more questioning her experience.”

Thulani, ever practical, was the first to voice the obvious question. ”And... if we win, ’laric?”

Alaric grinned, a predatory light entering his eyes. ”If Kassandra somehow loses against the combined might of all of you...” He paused for dramatic effect. ”Then I will personally give each of you,” he pointed to Matteo, Reuben, Flavia, Thulani, Jonathan, and Oldgate, ”five hundred thousand pounds sterling. Each.”

”WHAT!?” The exclamation came from multiple throats simultaneously.

”DAMN!” Reuben shouted, nearly dropping his teacup.

”BLIMEY!” Oldgate roared, slamming his own cup down on the nearby coffee table with enough force to crack the ceramic.

Five hundred thousand pounds!? Each!? The sum was astronomical, unthinkable!

Kassandra looked at Alaric, then at the shocked faces around the room, a confused expression on her face. ”Is that... a lot?”

Before Alaric could reply, Jonathan, who had gone pale, cleared his throat. ”L-Lady Kassandra... to put it in perspective, most skilled laborers or craftsmen in England might earn ten to twenty-five pounds in a year. That amount... it could sustain a noble family in absolute luxury for... well, for more than thirty generations.”

Kassandra’s eyes widened comically. She turned to stare at Alaric, shaking her head slightly. ”Maláka,” she breathed. ”How rich are you?”

Alaric just smirked, taking another drag from his cigar. Jonathan answered for him, his voice filled with awe. ”Master Alaric is... I would confidently state, the wealthiest man in the world, Signora. Believe me... I manage some of his accounts. It is... staggering.”

Oldgate, who had been silent since his outburst, shook his head slowly. ”Damn it all... so that’s why fifty thousand pounds was nothing to you...”

Before anyone could fully process the implications of the wager’s stakes, Matteo, his pride perhaps overriding his shock, spoke first, his eyes fixed on Kassandra with a challenging glare. ”I say a spar!”

”A spar?” Flavia turned sharply towards her father. ”Papà! How can you be so shameless!? You want all of us,” she gestured around the room, including herself, Reuben, Thulani, Jonathan, and Oldgate, ”to spar against one woman!?”

Matteo avoided her gaze, looking stubborn. Reuben started to protest, ”No... Maestro, that’s too-”

”HAHAHAHAHA!”

He was cut off by Kassandra’s sudden, loud laughter, a rich, unladylike sound that echoed in the office. Everyone stared at her as she wiped a tear of mirth from her eye.

”A spar, is it?” she asked, her voice filled with amusement and confidence. She looked around at the assembled group, her gaze lingering on Matteo. ”Fine by me. I will happily destroy each and every single one of you.”

A collective gulp could almost be heard in the room. They looked from Kassandra’s confident smirk back to Alaric, who was just leaning back, puffing contentedly on his cigar, looking thoroughly entertained.

’He won’t help her in the fight... right? Just Kassandra, against us?’ Thought everyone.

Oldgate grunted, picking up the pieces of his broken teacup. ”Well then... guess it’s decided.”

Kassandra grinned, cracking her knuckles. ”Oh, don’t you worry,” she said with her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

”I will make sure none of you die.”

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