Assassin's Creed: Unity Read Online Free PDF Page A

she allowed the lamplighter to take me hostage, then all was lost. And it gave her the advantage as she swung into him, finding the space between my body and his, leading with her elbow, which with a yell she jabbed into his throat.
    He made a sound like
boak
and I felt his grip give, then saw the flash of a blade as Mother pressed home her advantage and drove her boot knife deep into his stomach, shoving him up against the alley wall and with a small grunt of effort driving the blade upward, then stepping smartly away as the front of his shirt darkened with blood and bulged with his spilling guts as he slid to the floor.
    Mother straightened to face a second attack from the doctor, but all we saw of him was his cloak as he turned and ran, leaving the alley and running for the street.
    She grabbed my arm. “Come along, Élise, before you get blood on your shoes.”
    v
    There was blood on Mother’s coat. Apart from that there was no way of telling she’d recently seen combat.
    Not long after we arrived home messages were sent and the Crows bustled in with a great clacking of walking canes, huffing and puffing and talking loudly of punishing “those responsible.” Meanwhile, the staff fussed, put their hands to their throats and gossiped around corners, and Father’s face was ashen and I noticed how he seemed compelled to keep embracing us, holding us both a little too tightly and a little too long and breaking away with eyes that shone with tears.
    Only Mother seemed unruffled. She had the poise and authority of one who has acquitted herself well. Rightly so. Thanks to her, we had survived the attack. I wondered, did she feel as secretly thrilled as I did?
    I would be asked to give my account of events, she had warned me in the hired carriage on the way back to our château. In this regard I should follow her lead, support everything she said, say nothing to contradict her.
    And so I listened as she told versions of her story, first to Olivier, our head butler, then to my father when he arrived, and lastly to the Crows when they bustled in. And though her stories acquired greater detail in the telling, answering all questions fired at her, they all lacked one very important detail. The doctor.
    “You saw no hidden blade?” she was asked.
    “I saw nothing to identify my attackers as Assassins,” she replied, “thus I can’t assume it was the work of Assassins.”
    “Common street robbers are not so organized as this man seems to have been. You can’t think it a coincidence that your carriage was missing. Perhaps Jean will turn up drunk but perhaps not. Perhaps he will turn up dead. No, Madame, this has none of the hallmarks of an opportunistic crime. This was a planned attack on your person, an act of aggression by our enemies.”
    Eyes would flick to me. Eventually I was asked to leave the room, which I did, finding a seat in the hallway outside, listening to the voices from the chamber as they bounced off marble floors and to my ears.
    “Grand Master, you must realize this was the work of Assassins.”
    (Although to my ears, it was the work of “assassins” and so I sat there thinking,
Of course it was the work of assassins, you stupid man. Or “would-be assassins” at least.
)
    “Like my wife, I would rather not leap to any false conclusions,” replied Father.
    “Yet you’ve posted extra guards.”
    “Of course I have, man. I can’t be too careful.”
    “I think you know in your heart, Grand Master.”
    My father’s voice rose. “And what if I do? What would you have me do?”
    “Why, take action at once, of course.”
    “And would that be action to avenge my wife’s honor or action to overthrow the king?”
    “Either would send a message to our adversaries.”
    Later, the news arrived that Jean had been discovered with his throat cut. I went cold, as though somebody had opened a window. I cried. Not just for Jean but, shamefully, for myself as well. And I watched and listened as a shock