[Current Balance: 44,990,972,982 akçe]
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The familiar scent of brine, fish, and Roman dust filled the air in the port of Civitavecchia. Captain Edward Oldgate sat in his cabin aboard La Providencia, hunched over his charts with his First Mate, Thomas.
The galleon, having completed several profitable runs since dropping off Alaric Kenway in Thera eighteen long months ago, was back in the Papal States' main port.
"Alright, Thomas," Oldgate grumbled, tapping a thick finger on the chart. "We offloaded the bulk of the timber and wool from England here. Good prices, decent profit." He looked up. "What's the status on the goods we picked up in Lisbon and Barceno? And what should we be looking to buy here before heading back north?"
Thomas consulted his ledger. "Captain, the silks and fine textiles are selling well in the Roman marketplace as we speak, fetching a fine price. Same with the spices from the East, the perfumes, and the lacquerware we acquired... indirectly... on the last run." He cleared his throat. "As for passengers to Rome on this leg, we earned a respectable 6,080 Reales."
Oldgate grunted, leaning back in his chair. "Passage money's fine, but the real profit's in the cargo." He stroked his white beard thoughtfully. "How much d'you reckon we'll clear from the goods currently selling ashore?"
The First Mate pursed his lips, calculating. "Hard to say for certain until the merchants settle up, Captain. But based on initial offers... I'd wager somewhere around fifteen, maybe sixteen thousand scudi? Perhaps a bit more if Signora Rossi manages to haggle well for those silks."
Oldgate stared out the stern window of his cabin, watching the bustling port activity. Sixteen thousand scudi was good... but the upkeep on a galleon like La Providencia, plus a full crew's wages, ate into profits quickly. "It's decent," he muttered, "but I wish we had some miracle... another haul like those Ottoman ships, eh? These crew wages are killing me slowly."
Thomas sighed sympathetically. "Aye, Captain. That Kenway boy... he was a miracle alright. Generous pay, brought his own excitement, practically funded that whole detour to Greece himself." He shook his head. "Too bad we haven't had word from him since we dropped him off in Thera. Wonder what became of him?"
Oldgate sighed too, a rare moment of melancholy settling over the large captain. He pushed himself up from his chair. "Who knows, Thomas. Lad like that, with his... abilities... could be anywhere. King of some lost island, advisor to a sultan..." He started walking towards the cabin door. "Maybe somewhere far awa-"
His sentence cut off abruptly as he pulled the heavy cabin door open. He stopped dead, eyes widening in shock.
Standing right outside his door, looking slightly dishevelled but unmistakably familiar, was the blonde man himself, Alaric Kenway.
Beside him stood a woman of striking appearance and unusual height, half a foot shorter than Oldgate himself who was 6'5. She currently had a hand clamped over her mouth and looked decidedly unwell, while Alaric was patting her back awkwardly and murmuring apologies.
The First Mate, following Oldgate out, peered past his captain's shoulder. "Excuse me, we are not yet taking any pass-" Thomas began automatically, then stopped mid-sentence, his own eyes widening in recognition as he saw Alaric.
Oldgate stared, dumbfounded for a second, at the sudden appearance of his former, most unusual passenger. Alaric looked up from the woman, noticed Oldgate, and a wide, familiar grin spread across his face.
"Heh," Alaric said cheerfully, stepping slightly away from the woman who was now leaning against the bulkhead, still looking pale. "It's been a long time. Has it been a year and half already, whitebeard?"
[System Currency Updated]
[Akçe Converted to Scudo Currency...]
[Conversion Fee: - 216 akçe]
[Current Balance: 44,990,972,982 akçe = 374,924,774 scudi, 90 baiocchi.]
[Current Balance: 374,924,774 scudi, 90 baiocchi.]
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Oldgate blinked, still processing the sudden reappearance. He stared at Alaric, then at the woman, then back at Alaric. He chuckled a deep rumble in his chest and shook his head in disbelief. "Brat... you just appear out of thin air inside my ship? You've been lurking around Rome all this time?"
Alaric raised an eyebrow. 'Ah, right. He docked here just before we arrived.' He offered a noncommittal smile. "Well... not exactly in Rome, but sure..."
Oldgate raised his own brow at the vague answer but just grunted. "Never a dull moment with you around, eh?" He looked Alaric up and down. "How're you doing then, lad? How's business? Found whatever you were looking for in Greece?"
Alaric chuckled. "Business is... complicated. But I'm doing well enough, whitebeard." He gestured vaguely. "Found some interesting things, yes. How 'bout you?"
"Same old, same old here," Oldgate replied, puffing his chest out slightly. "Running cargo, dodging trouble... La Providencia's been waiting for your next mad charter, seems like."
Alaric smirked. "Well, if that's the case... you up for another charter? A rather urgent one this time."
Oldgate's eyes lit up with the prospect of more easy money. "Of course! Always ready for a paying customer, especially one like you. Where to this time? Back to Greece? Further East?"
"Actually," Alaric said, his smile fading slightly, "Livorno. I need to visit Reuben and Flavia somehow..."
Oldgate's expression shifted, his grin disappearing. He crossed his massive arms, sighing heavily. "Damn… about that, I thought you knew, lad... they're not there. Not in Livorno, not in Monteriggioni."
Kassandra, having finally recovered from her nausea, straightened up, wiping her mouth discreetly. She looked between Alaric and Oldgate, sensing the shift in tone.
Alaric glanced at her, saw her nod slightly indicating she was okay, then turned his full attention back to Oldgate, his easygoing demeanor vanishing. "What do you mean they're not there? So something happened?"
Oldgate looked around the busy passageway outside his cabin. "Let's talk inside," he said gruffly, his voice lower now. He looked at his First Mate. "Thomas, leave us alone for a moment. Manage the boys while you're at it, make sure the new supplies are stowed properly."
Thomas nodded quickly, giving Alaric and the imposing woman beside him a curious glance before hurrying off down the corridor. Oldgate pushed his cabin door open wider and gestured for Alaric and Kassandra to enter.
Once inside the spacious cabin, the door closed securely behind them. Oldgate walked towards the table laden with charts. He reached instinctively for a pouch of cheap cigarettes he kept tucked away, then paused, glancing at Alaric.
Alaric smirked, recognizing the cue. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the fresh pack of premium cigars. He expertly flicked two out, tossing one towards Oldgate, who caught it deftly in his mouth. Alaric lit his own cigar with a snap of his fingers, while Oldgate used his flint lighter.
As the fragrant smoke filled the cabin, Kassandra looked expectantly at Alaric. "So..." she prompted quietly in Greek, "are you going to introduce me?"
Alaric blinked, realizing his oversight. He turned, gesturing between the two. "Ah, right. Whitebeard," he said, switching back to English, "allow me to introduce my wife, Kassandra." He then looked at Kassandra. "Kassandra, this is Edward Oldgate, captain of the galleon we're currently aboard... the La Providencia."
Kassandra's eyes widened slightly at the casual declaration of wife. They hadn't discussed any such titles. A strange warmth spread through her chest like never before.
'He already thinks of me as his wife?' she thought, a slow, pleased smile touching her lips despite herself. 'That's... I... like that...'.
Oldgate's eyes practically bulged out of his head. He choked on his cigar smoke, coughing loudly for a moment before managing to speak, staring at Kassandra with newfound respect and utter disbelief. "W-Wife!? Blimey, lad! When did this happen? Well... uh... congratulations! To both of you!"
Alaric waved a hand dismissively, chuckling. "Not yet, Captain. We haven't done the official ceremonies yet... soon, though. And you'll definitely be invited."
Kassandra smiled brightly at that, her earlier nervousness about meeting his 'parents' momentarily forgotten. Oldgate nodded, recovering his composure and managing a broad grin.
"Well, I'll be damned. Good on ya, lad!" He and Alaric took a simultaneous drag from their cigars, a moment of shared understanding passing between them.
Oldgate's smile faded slightly as he turned serious again. "Well... that's certainly good news, lad. Happy for you." He sighed, setting his cigar down carefully. "But... let me tell you what I know about Reuben and Flavia... and the Assassins back in Monteriggioni."
Alaric and Kassandra immediately turned serious as well, focusing intently on the captain. "Yes," Alaric said quietly, taking a drag from his cigar. "About that. I told Reuben to back off if things got dangerous, told him to retreat to Livorno or Rome, or even head back to England entirely if something went awry."
Oldgate nodded grimly. "Aye, seems he took your warning to heart, though perhaps not exactly as you intended." He picked up his cigar again. "Thing is, lad... Reuben... he became too famous. Him and that Auditore lass, Flavia. They went on a tear after you left. Started taking down high-ranking Templars all over Tuscany, even into the Papal States and Venice. Important ones, too. Merchants, officials, even a couple of cardinals whispered to be part of the Order."
Alaric listened intently, taking another drag from his cigar. Kassandra listened too, having heard stories from Alaric about his friend Reuben and the fierce Assassin woman he'd fallen for.
"In the span of about a year," Oldgate continued, his voice low, "they apparently killed dozens, maybe hundreds, of key Templar figures and their agents. Sabotaged trade routes, intercepted communications... they caused absolute chaos for the Templar Order in Italy. Word travels, y'know? Eventually, the Templars figured out where the heart of the problem was... where the Auditore Assassins were based." He paused, meeting Alaric's gaze. "They sent an army, lad. A thousand Papal soldiers, maybe more, marching straight for Monteriggioni."
Alaric felt a chill and Kassandra's eyes widened. A thousand soldiers against maybe fifty Assassins and Reuben? Even with Reuben's enhancements and the Sword of Damokles, those were impossible odds.
"Damn it!" Alaric cursed softly. "So? How did they get out? Did they retreat? With whom?"
Oldgate chuckled darkly. "Luck, mostly. Or maybe one of Reuben's 'bad feelings'. He told me later he had a nightmare, vivid as day, of soldiers swarming the villa. Managed to convince most of the Assassins there, seems they respect him a lot, to pull back to Livorno for a few days, just as a precaution. Flavia's father, the Maestro, stayed behind with a few others to scout." He took another puff. "Good thing they did. Matteo confirmed the army was real, marching fast. He barely got out himself."
"And lucky for them," Oldgate continued, "I happened to be docked back in Livorno harbor when they arrived, looking for passage out, fast. Needed to get clear of Italy entirely." He grinned. "Sailed the whole lot of 'em, Reuben, Flavia, Matteo, maybe thirty other Assassins, straight to Bristol. Cost 'em a pretty penny, mind you… ten thousand pounds sterling for the trouble and the risk."
Alaric processed this, relief washing over him followed by amusement. "Heh... a nightmare, huh..." He took a long drag from his cigar, then looked decisively at Oldgate. "Fine. Change of plans, Captain. Let me rent your service again. Charter towards Bristol. Fewest stops possible."
Oldgate's grin returned, wide and predatory. "Bristol, eh? Back to yer home turf. Alright, Kenway boy... how much are you willing to give old Captain Oldgate this time?" He leaned back, puffing his chest out. "Fifty thousand pounds!" he declared, clearly expecting Alaric to haggle or laugh it off.
Alaric didn't even blink. He nodded once and extended his hand across the table. "Deal."
Both Kassandra and Oldgate stared at him, eyes wide. Oldgate sputtered, "Lad, lad! Fifty thousand!? Are you mad? Can't you take a jest!? No one pays that kind of sum for passage!"
Alaric simply kept his hand extended, his expression firm. "Let's just do it, Whitebeard," he said calmly, though his voice held an undercurrent of urgency. "I'm in a hurry to get back to Bristol, you see. Time is... more valuable than I realized."
Oldgate stared at Alaric's unwavering gaze, then down at the offered hand, his own palms suddenly feeling sweaty. Fifty thousand pounds... it was a fortune beyond his wildest dreams. "This... this is a huge amount, lad..." he stammered, then seemed to make up his mind. "Ah, hell with it! If you're serious... then deal!" He grasped Alaric's hand, shaking it firmly.
Alaric nodded, satisfied. He stood up, Kassandra rising with him.
As they turned to leave the cabin, Kassandra leaned close to Alaric, whispering in Greek, "How much exactly is fifty thousand pounds, Alaric?"
Alaric put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as they walked out into the corridor. He leaned down and kissed her temple gently. "Don't worry 'bout it, love," he murmured back in English. "It's just money."
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