Assassin's Creed: Forsaken by Bowden Oliver

Author:Bowden, Oliver [Bowden, Oliver]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Ace
Published: 2012-12-03T23:00:00+00:00

13 JULY 1754

i

We were gathered in the Green Dragon, beneath the low, dark beams of the back room that we now called our own, and which we were rapidly expanding to fill, stuffing ourselves into the dusty eaves: Thomas, who liked to lounge in a horizontal position whenever he wasn’t hoisting tankards of ale or bothering our hosts for more; William, whose frown lines deepened as he laboured over charts and maps spread out over a table, moving from that to his lectern and occasionally letting out a frustrated gasp, waving Thomas and his ale-slopping tankard away whenever he lurched too close; Charles, my right-hand man, who took a seat beside me whenever I was in the room, and whose devotion I felt sometimes as a burden, at other times as a great source of strength; and now, of course, Dr. Church, who had spent the last couple of days recuperating from his injuries in a bed that had been begrudgingly provided for him by Cornelius. We had left Benjamin to it; he had dressed his own wounds, and when he at last rose, he assured us that none of the injuries to his face were likely to be permanent.

I had spoken to him two days before, when I interrupted him in the process of dressing the worst of his wounds, certainly the most painful-looking: a flap of skin that Cutter had removed.

“So, a question for you,” I said, still feeling I hadn’t quite got the measure of the man: “Why medicine?”

He smiled grimly. “I’m supposed to tell you I care for my fellow man, right? That I chose this path because it allows me to accomplish a greater good?”

“Are these things not true?”

“Perhaps. But that’s not what guided me. No . . . for me it was a less abstract thing: I like money.”

“There are other paths to fortune,” I said.

“Aye. But what better ware to peddle than life? Nothing else is as precious—nor so desperately craved. And no price is too great for the man or woman who fears an abrupt and permanent end.”

I winced. “Your words are cruel, Benjamin.”

“But true as well.”

Confused, I asked, “You took an oath to help people, did you not?”

“I abide the oath, which makes no mention of price. I merely require compensation—fair compensation—for my services.”

“And if they lack the required funds?”

“Then there are others who will serve them. Does a baker grant free bread to a beggar? Does the tailor offer a dress to the woman who cannot afford to pay? No. Why should I?”

“You said it yourself,” I said. “Nothing is more precious than life.”

“Indeed. All the more reason one should ensure one has the means to preserve it.”

I looked at him askance. He was a young man—younger than I. I wondered, had I been like him once?

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