The journey back to the homestead was uneventful. Jamie and Duncan slept for most of it, whatever narcotics they had been given still very much effective. Clipper attempted conversation several times, as did Stephane, while Dobby drove the horses pulling the borrowed cart to the homestead in silence.

"Good thing your father was so nice about everything, eh?" Clipper tried, for the fifth or sixth time. Ratonhnhaké:ton did not reply. It did not seem as though Haytham was being 'nice'. Rather, it seemed like he was desperate. He'd simply waved a surviving guard over to ready a cart for the Assassins, and more or less shooed Ratonhnhaké:ton away when he'd tried to speak.

"You said later, didn't you?" Haytham asks, irritably, then calls a lackey over to send for a doctor. He vanishes into Johnson House, and Ratonhaké:ton is left with nothing to do but sigh and help the Assassins.

"So, what's the plan for the truce?" Clipper asked.

"Hope it lasts," Ratonhnhaké:ton said, shortly.

"Oh."

There was silence for a few minutes, and Ratonhnhaké:ton tried not to think. He didn't know what he was doing. Everything had happened so quickly over the last week, even though so much had transpired… Despite the insanity of the situation he found himself in, the unbelievable revelations he'd been faced with, and the breakneck speed at which his situation had changed (and continued to change), Ratonhnhaké:ton could not help but find it familiar. Whether that comforted him or not, he did not know. All he knew was that he needed time to think, to figure out what needed to happen.

He was broken out of his reverie by a simple question from Stephane.

"What happened to your face, Clipper?"

"Oh, this?" Clipper gingerly touched a swollen eye. "Looks worse than it -ouch- is. Promise. They only really did my face, seemed to want to use me as bait."

Ratonhnhaké:ton suddenly felt very guilty. He hadn't asked Clipper he was all right, and it was his fault that Clipper had been kidnapped in the first place.

"Lucky for you," Stephane said, with what might have been a dark look in his eyes.

Achilles was angry. He was the kind of man to hold a quiet, bitter rage within him, lashing out verbally with spiteful words. Ratonhnhaké:ton learnt this the hard way, as he helped Stephane carry a mostly-dead-to-the-world Jamie indoors, and onto a couch. Dobby and Clipper took Duncan, who was marginally more lucid than Jamie, and was also far lighter, being more slender and less heavily armed.

"You didn't die, I see," Achilles said, almost nonchalantly from his chair, as they passed his room. His head was tilted to the ground, away from the door.

"No, I did not," Ratonhnhaké:ton replied.

"It's amazing how lucky an empty-headed, stubborn fool can be," Achilles said, quietly enough that Ratonhnhaké:ton had trouble hearing.

"I am none of those things!" Ratonhnhaké:ton said, indignantly, stopping in his tracks. Stephane glanced at him and sighed, also stopping.

"Of course you're not. That's why you disobeyed a direct order from me, and went running back to that heartless fanatic of father of yours without a second thought as to what would become of us if you died."

"You seem to have been carrying just fine without me. And Haytham is not heartless."

"I see! How mistaken I have been, in all the years I have known the man, and despite all the tragedies I have suffered because of him. Thank you deeming to correct me, in all your knowledge and wisdom." Achilles' tone was cruel and mocking, and Ratonhnhaké:ton gritted his teeth. "And how perceptive you are, to see what we have not- that the Homestead does not need you, and neither does our Brotherhood, with out incredible numbers of but six novices and one elderly mentor. Next, you'll tell me that the Aquila and your merchant business could run just fine without the esteemed Captain Kenway!"

"I-"

"In fact, if that's how you really feel, why are you here, Connor? To spite an old man? Why not just up and leave, and go back to that father of yours? You clearly find him better company, running off like that at the first opportunity."

"It wasn't like that!" Ratonhnhaké:ton protested. "I just wanted to help Clipper!"

"Help him better than four Assassins? Why, I underestimated your abilities as a single person. Forgive me."

"I-" Ratonhnhaké:ton started, about to hotly retort something about actually caring about the others, unlike Achilles himself, when Stephane interrupted them both.

"If I could add something to your discussion?" he asked, then carried on without waiting for a reply. "It was an elaborate trap. Clipper was beaten about the face and tied up, and harmed little further. Given the sheer number of guards and low-level Templars around, as well as the layout of the building he was in, it is obvious that the Grand Master and the others had hoped to ensnare not just we four, but Jacob as well."

Stephane paused for a moment before continuing.

"All we assassins were captured, and incapacitated in some way. Dobby and I approached the house and were quickly surrounded, while Duncan and Jamie approached the meeting-houses and were drugged. Why not simply kill us? I believe that they wanted to get Jacob, too. Or even yourself, Achilles. Kenway knows you well enough to realise that you would not allow Ratonhnhaké:ton out of the safety of the Homestead after such a long and painful absence. They wanted us out of the way, and they did not expect Connor himself to show up, or at least not so soon."

Achilles' eyes lit up in understanding, although he still seemed tense, and his mouth was still set in an angry line.

"See?" Ratonhnhaké:ton said. "It was a good thing I left. And now we have a truce with the Templars, and all members of the Brotherhood alive and well."

Achilles was silent for a moment, and Ratonhnhaké:ton had a terrible feeling that he had broken some unspoken rule.

"'Well' is something of an overstatement, considering your condition and Clipper's injuries," Achilles said, coldly.

Ratonhnhaké:ton opened his mouth again, and Stephane cut in again.

"My arms are starting to hurt, why don't we lay Jamie down?"

Jamie groaned, and made some incomprehensible noise that was presumably an agreement. Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded, and started walking in silence. As they trudged up the stairs- fortunately they were wide enough to accommodate three men- Stephane glared at Ratonhnhaké:ton.

"I think you could barely have offended Achilles more if you tried," he said. "You should apologise when he calms down."

"I am the one who should be offended," Ratonhnhaké:ton replied, sullenly.

"In all fairness, you haven't spent the last two months believing that the closest thing you have to a son is dead."

"Perhaps not, but I have spent the last two months without a memory."

"I know you've been through a lot, Connor. Really, I do. But I did not risk my life to bring you back so that you and Achilles could be at each other's throats constantly. I did it because I believe in the Creed and the work the two of you have done to free this land."

Ratonhnhaké:ton resisted the urge to laugh as they crossed the threshold of the spare room, which had several cots and couches along the walls. They lowered Jamie onto a comfortable-looking one.

"Work? You mean killing people."

"Only those that will not change," Stephane said, and there was a pleading tone in his voice. "Your father has killed people, too."

"I had guessed as much," Ratonhnhaké:ton said, with more venom in his voice than he had intended. "And yet they are so different, and so evil compared to us."

"Connor, you must understand… what your father and his friends want… it is not true peace. It is a facade held in place with illusions and cruelty."

Ratonhnhaké:ton sighed.

"I know. I am simply tired. I need to think."

Stephane nodded, biting his lip, and he picked up a blanket from a nearby couch, bundled it up, and pushed it under Jamie's head

"Of course, of course."

As Ratonhnhaké:ton left the room, he could feel Stephane's eyes following him.