An Assassin's Tale (Jeschaal)

[Mister Michio]

A brilliant moon shone down on a warm summer evening on the outer edge of Boston. Beyond the city proper, there was mostly farms and an occasional large estate, with thick woods in between. A very well kept dirt road ran alongside a portion of these woods, the thick trees eventually giving way to an elaborate estate. The tight-packed earth soon turned to well laid cobblestones as it curved up towards the fine looking mansion it curved around in front of. Within the curve of the front drive, there sat an exquisitely carved statue of marble standing atop a small fountain. The drive became smoother paving stones at the front of the mansion, which was built in the Classical style. Broad columns lined the entryway, topped in the Corinthian style. Red brick and white marble made up the majority of the building.

Lined in front of this beautiful piece of architecture, was an assortment of carriages. Some simple one horse affairs in solid black, others with four horses and elaborate decoration, bearing family or company symbols. However each carriage looked, the people emerging from them were all equally flashy in their garb. Finely tailored clothes covered in brilliant colors and exceptional cloth lay upon men and women alike. Powdered wigs and increasingly fantastical masks rested upon the heads of those that ascended the steps to the widely opened doors. Atop the stairs stood too servants, also dress their gaudiest, waiting to take the masquerader's invitations.

While another servant waited beyond the door to take the coats of those attendees who wore them, it was mostly unnecessary. The summer was upon them, and rare was the man or women who still wore such remnants of the frigid New England winter. Further within, guests would find themselves amid of buzz of conversation, interspersed with rich laughter from the men and subdued giggles from some of the women. Eyes danced behind feathered and bejeweled masks of all shapes and sizes. Servants in matching outfits circulated in the crowd, carrying glasses of wine and champagne, or trays of delectable hors d'voeuvre. Everywhere the well to do of Boston laughed, gossiped, and drank to their hearts content. After all, why not enjoy the generosity of their peer, Mr. Breckenridge after being kind enough to provide such a marvelous party.

The word on everyone's lips was revolution. It had been only a month since the events at Lexington and Concord, and there was much stirring within the colonies. Men were preparing for war it seemed, and while that was hardly the case tonight, it nagged at the back of many a mind in that mansion, and so they drank to silence the little voices in their heads.

Among this chattering crowd, one man remained fairly silent and subdued. At first glance he seemed fairly unremarkable. He wore a black tailcoat with folds within the sleeves which silver satin peeked from. The lining of his coat was also silver, and beneath that, a black vest nearly covered in silver embroidery. Dark grey knickers and white leggings adorned his legs, with shiny black shoes on his feet. A white shirt and silver cravat hid beneath his vest, and his mask, while simple, contained delicate gold scroll work. A white wig rested atop his head, completing his outfit. He walked casually among the crowd, partaking in the occasional morsel from one of the servants, but avoided the alcohol. He needed to remain sharp and focused tonight. He occasionally engaged in a few conversations, but always kept an eye on the main staircase. That's where his first target was to come from, and he did not intend to lose her as she entered. Finding her again in this press would be a bother. So he waited patiently for her arrival.

[Jeschaal]

"Ow, that hurts, Lottie!"

"It's the style nowadays, miss. Just one more loop, then I'll be done."

Rebecca Breckenridge had her hands clasped tightly about her abdomen as her servant girl fastened the many strands of ribbon that pulled the corset tight about her bosom. So tight, in fact, that Rebecca wasn't sure if she would be able to breath that night. "I don't know why Father had this fashioned like so, he knows how I hate being dolled up like this." She almost had to gasp, with her chest constricted so badly that one sentence left her breathless.

"Lottie, let it out a bit."

"But miss-"

Rebecca cut her off. "I don't care. I want to be able to enjoy myself at least a little bit at Father's ball."

Obediently, the black girl lowered her gaze and let out some of the ties, and Rebecca breathed an easier breath. Still shallow, but she didn't feel crushed now. After the corset was secure, Lottie helped her don the red and black ruffled dress, as well as pinning up her long hair with red ribbon. Lastly, a mask of black, with simple silver embroidery on one side and red cardinal feathers fanning out on the other side, the dark colors emphasizing her bright blue eyes. Once her outfit was complete, Mr. Breckenridge's daughter looked at herself in the mirror, with Lottie right behind her. "Oh miss, you look beautiful! You shall definitely find yourself some suitors tonight, in a get-up like that." Rebecca did suppose she was right, the dress and mask did suit her well, but she still would rather be in her riding outfit, out in the paddock instead of being forced to mingle with her father's friends.

"I guess I should stop dillydallying. Father did tell me there were a few of his friends he wanted me to meet. And he had been pushing me lately to find a man to marry. I just hope that one man, what was his name? The one with the great belly and red beard." She pushed one ringlet into a better spot behind the feathers, turning to Lottie after doing so.

"Uh, you mean Mr. Williamson, miss? He's the only man I can think of that has a red beard." The servant girl picked up Rebecca's black shawl, and the other girl took it, draping it over her elbows and behind her lower back.

"Yes! You have amazing memory, little Lottie. Now, how do I look?" Rebecca did a little spin, and the black girl clapped in glee, admiring her work as well as the brilliant tailor who fashioned the dress. "You look fit to be a princess, miss!"

And with that, the two of them left the bedroom, Lottie leaving Rebecca at the hall to run off to help in the kitchen. With a last wistful look in the direction her servant ran off to, Rebecca Breckenridge began winding her way down the stairs to where she could hear many voices echoing throughout her father's house, some laced with drink, while others echoed business matters.

When she was halfway down, she paused, hoping to find her father in the fray. Rebecca hated these parties. Strange men, some heavily drunk, always tried to get fancy with her, but her father had always come to the rescue. This time, she could not find him, and decided she would take the opportunity to go out into the garden. The young woman knew she would not be scolded for this, as many of the attendees used the gardens to escape the heat inside the building, and the summer nights were warm enough these days to allow a night stroll.

As she walked through the crowd, she said a few hellos to familiar faces, taking a glass of offered cider from a servant who knew her well. Rebecca never drank alcohol, even at gatherings such as these. She hated the drink, and vowed to never have a sip years ago when she met a drunk man who tried in vain to overtake her. The thought came to her now as she saw a couple, giggling and smelling of drink, vanish into the darker, more secretive section of the garden. Frowning, Rebecca stepped through the archway leading outside, taking what breath she could of the night air.

[Mister Michio]

Having just turned away from a one sided and rather non-sensical conversation from one of the many tipsy guests, Fredric Abbey turned his eye to the stairs and at last saw what he had been waiting for. The young Miss Rebecca Breckenridge descended the stairs, quite fetching in a lovely dress of red and black. Many in the crowd clapped approvingly as she made her entrance. While she wasn't the focus of the party, many in attendance were close to her family, and all there knew of Mr. Breckenridge's daughter. She was a darling of Boston who few could say an unkind word about. Those that did usually found themselves at the receiving end of icy stares if not worse.

Even as she came among the guests and started greeting them, Fredric's eyes never left her. He certainly did not stare, but he made sure she was always in his line of sight. He refused to lose her in this cacophony for even an instant. He began casually making his way in her direction, taking things slowly and carefully. It wasn't long however, before she broke off from the crowd and made her way towards the garden behind the mansion. Fredric allowed himself a small smile. There was no place better suited to his intentions.

Stepping out into the warm night air, he found her immediately. She was still for the moment, looking out over the gardens, lit by the glow of the mansion as it spilled out through doors and windows, and by the light of the moon as well. He took a gentle breath and put a pleasant expression on his face. If he could get her to a more secluded area, then this part of his job would be done.

Stepping forward, he approached Rebecca, hardly making a sound despite walking on paving stones in his wood soled shoes.

"Pardon me, would you happen to be Miss Rebecca Breckenridge?"

He smiled and bowed as she turned and faced him.

"I'm Elijah Horston, a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

While he knew was not an overly handsome man, he had learned ways to make himself seem more appealing to those of the fairer sex. Besides, his mask covered much of his face anyways, so it mattered very little.

[Jeschaal]

"Pardon me, would you happen to be Miss Rebecca Breckenridge?"

Before Rebecca had a chance to venture further into the garden, the male voice pervaded the night air, causing her to turn.

"I'm Elijah Horston, a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

A man stood before her, his stark black and white attire seeming to stand out in the glow from behind. His mask had delicate gold embroidery, and bright green eyes peered from within.

"Rebecca Breckenridge I am indeed, sir." Rebecca replied, curtsying carefully as to not spill her cider. His bright eyes intrigued her, but she reminded herself to keep her guard up. Even though he smelled not of drink, she had never seen this man before at any of her father's parties. She would have remembered those green eyes for sure, so strong and intense was their color.

Adjusting the mask on her face, the young woman looked out to the garden, where she could hear mingling voices and the trickling of the fountain her father had put in just last month. "What brings you to my father's ball this fine night, Mr. Horston? I don't believe we've met in the past." She strove to keep her words light and proper, just like she was taught by Mother. Even though Rebecca did not wish the company, she knew it would please her father to see her speaking with a gentleman. He had been trying to so hard lately to find her a suitor, and yet, none of them courted her for very long.

[Mister Michio]

She returned his bow with a curtsy of her own, keeping herself quite poised, despite the drink in her hand.

"Ah, yes, I imagine not. I only just arrived in Boston recently. While I was born here, I've spent the last few years in the employ of a Mr. Campbell of Virginia. He owns a substantial tobacco business, and he asked me to come back to Boston, being a native, and attempt to arrange some business partnerships with some of the well to do here in Boston."

Of course, it was all deception. While there was a plantation owner in Virginia, Fredric had never even been to the Virginia colony before.

"Thanks to the timing of my arrival, I was able to secure an invitation to this delightful soiree of your father's. I must say it has been quite entertaining thus far."

More lies, Fredric was quite eager to be done with this job and away from these people.

"There was much talk around Boston about Mr. Breckenridge's party, and just as much about his stunning young daughter." He smiled at her. It wasn't the most charming smile he had, but it was enough to emphasize his next comment. "Though I must say, the stories I had heard did not nearly do justice to the genuine article."

[Jeschaal]

"Welcome back to Boston, then, Mr. Horston." Rebecca listened to him, glancing over now and again, then back out to the greenery in the garden. Roses of all colors were blooming, and the air carried their scent as a light breeze blew. "I'm glad you find Father's ball tonight entertaining. I've never quite liked them, I must say, but he is my father, and I his daughter, so I must attend."

Though she did not wish it, Rebecca's cheeks blushed when he subtly commented her, her pale cheeks turning rosy beneath her freckles. "You only see what your eyes wish to see, Mr. Horston. Remember, this is a masquerade ball after all." With a light smile, something she was surprised she could do genuinely, the young woman took a couple steps down the stairs and towards the fountain in the center of the garden, looking back at the green-eyed man. Those eyes... there was something about them that pulled at her, but she quickly looked away, scolding herself. It was very unladylike to stare at a gentleman.

"Tell me of your travels, Mr. Horston. I have never been anywhere farther than the general store, and as much as I yearn to go, my father forbids me from venturing anywhere off our land." Rebecca took a sip of her cider, and when she realized it was almost gone, asked a passing servant carrying a tray full of champagne to refill it.

[Mister Michio]

"My thanks, it is good to be back home. Though a great deal seems to have changed during my absence." Much had been going on of late, what with new taxes levied, followed by colonist outcry, much of it centered around Boston. The so called Tea Party had been quite the event as well.

He smiled at her reply to his compliment. "Ah, beautiful and quick of wit as well, I see. You are quite the charming maiden Miss Rebecca."

As she descended down the steps, Fredric followed after her, smiling again as she turned back to look at him. He could see it now. He had caught her eye, and now was the time to press his advantage. The sooner he could end her, the sooner he could go about the rest of his task. He reached the bottom of the stairs just as the servant finished refilling Rebecca's empty cider.

"Let us walk then and I shall tell you what I can, though I confess, I have not the talent for storytelling. Alas I fear you may find my travels rather dull, though I shall endeavor to do otherwise!" With that he began a slow pace deeper into the garden, the light of the moon causing the silver on his outfit to shine quite fantastically. He began to tell stories of his time in various cities and the travels between them. He made an effort to focus on cities he had been to in the past, though he had to embellish what little knowledge he had about Virginia.

"... and Mr. Campbell's plantation is a thing to behold as well! Nothing but tobacco fields as far as you can see, and more Negroes than I could even count. Though Mr. Campbell said he plans to convert some of his fields to cotton, says its going to become the next major cash crop of the colonies, though I don't see it."

[Jeschaal]

Again, Rebecca blushed lightly. Though many other men had tried to complement her, make her feel like a lovely maiden, somehow the words of this complete stranger did more than she wished them to. As he fell into step beside her, she realized then how much taller he was than her. She wasn't exactly short, but she wore slippers without a heel, as was quite unlike the normal style.

Elijah Horston told her tales of distant cities he visited, and she listened, rapt as a child during story time in the nursery. Rebecca yearned for this sort of adventure, although he didn't slay any dragons or rescue damsels in distress like in the novels she read, it was still more of an adventure than she'd ever experienced while home. The moonlight glowing off the embroidery of his outfit turned him into an excellent story teller, and the young woman hardly seemed to notice the direction they were taking through the paths of the garden.

"Though Mr. Campbell said he plans to convert some of his fields to cotton, says its going to become the next major cash crop of the colonies, though I don't see it." As he finished his tale, Rebecca looked around, realizing they were in the back part of the garden.

"You have seen much more than I've seen, Mr. Horston. I envy you. If you stay friends with my father long, you should convince him to take me to Virginia so I can see the fields and cities you spoke of." She leaned against a nearby stone wall, looking out over her father's land, the paddock now empty of horses. "You have no idea how much I long to be free of this place, as much as it is my home. Only my studies keep me busy, and my horses."

[Mister Michio]

As they chatted, Fredric gradually led her deeper into the gardens, the light from the mansion slowly becoming smaller and smaller. He want them well past anyone who might be out here for... other purposes. Having not heard any whispers or giggling from any of the secluded corners they passed recently, Fredric believed he had gone far enough. He finished his story and they both stopped by a low stone wall that ran along the middle of the garden. The smell of an array of blossoms filled the air around them, undisturbed by even a slight breeze.

He listened quietly as Rebecca spoke once more. It seemed she was the type of rich young lady who sought independence, rather than indulge herself on her father's wealth. If nothing else it made her a more interesting young woman, and her conversation had been far more mentally stimulating than he had expected out of a wealthy man's daughter. "Why Miss Rebecca, you flatter me. I would be most delighted if I could have you join me when I return for Virginia."

He began to step towards her, slowly. A cloud passed across the moon as a thin blade extended from his sleeve, beneath his palm. "I will do me best to see to it you get the freedom you have so longed for." He was right in front of her, almost uncomfortably close, and he moved his face closer to her as his arm slowly aimed the blade at her abdomen. "Miss Rebecca, I-"

The shrill sound of women screaming suddenly pierced the night air, causing Fredric to immediately withdraw from Rebecca, his blade returning to his sleeve. This was quickly followed by the unmistakable concussive sound of musket fire. "What the bloody devils is going on?" he muttered. Some kind of attack? But who would attempt something like this? He ruled out revolutionaries and loyalists. The first were being back by a large number of the men inside, and the latter weren't nearly organized enough to try something this bold. There was only one possibility, and it infuriated him. "Damn that man for traitor." he cursed.

Party guests were starting to pour out into the gardens, followed shortly by red-coated British infantrymen, some kneeling to take aim, others quickly reloading their muskets. One, it seemed, had already made it all the way out here. He glanced at Fredric, then did a double take. "Aha! General's 'ad us lookin fuh you. Says 'e don't need no loose ends from your little arrangement. Looks like-" the soldier was quickly interrupted by Fredric rushing him, leaping onto him, and driving his wrist blade into the man's neck.

The man's eye's bulged, and his mouth worked silently as he fell to the ground. Fredric withdrew his blade and immediately pilfered the regular's musket, which he immediately raised and fired at the British soldier that had just turned the corner to face him. He dropped into the ground, and Fredric turned around to face Rebecca. Killing her was meaningless now. He had been left to die by his employer. The only thing left to do was to flee for now and make him pay. And he would start by keeping this one out of his hands.

Fredric ran back to her and took her hand. "Take me to you stables, now!" He did not shout, but he spoke in a tone that expected nothing less than absolute obedience.

[Jeschaal]

The moonlight washed over her as she looked out, and fleetingly, she realized that this was the most she had ever enjoyed herself at any occasion her father had put together.

"Why Miss Rebecca, you flatter me. I would be most delighted if I could have you join me when I return for Virginia." Rebecca turned to look at the green-eyed man, a small part of her hoping this wasn't just another ruse played out by other the other gentleman she met. She pushed the thought away, but as he strode closer, doubts rose in her mind. "I will do me best to see to it you get the freedom you have so longed for." His breath brushed her face, and she noted that he did not smell at all of alcohol, but something she could not quite put her finger on.

Elijah Horston stood very close to Rebecca, their faces almost touching. In her chest, the young woman's heart fluttered, and he freckled cheeks blushed. Is he... I hardly know him! But he's nothing like the men I've met in the past... Her thoughts whirled in her mind as she looked into his green eyes, watching her as they stood so close.

Then the moment was shattered as a woman's scream tore through the night air, sending the young man jumping back from Rebecca. As she looked to her father's mansion, Rebecca suddenly saw men in red coats pouring from the building and into the garden, screaming and terrified patrons scrambling in front of them. As she looked on, so shocked she could not move, the young man sprang on an infantryman that had rounded the corner, and deftly shot another with the slain man's musket.

"Mr. Horston, what on Earth-" She was cut off as he turned to face her, his eyes void of the gentle calm they held earlier. As Rebecca stood there in her fine evening dress, still unable to move, he strode over to her and took her hand, breaking her absence of real time. "Take me to your stables, now!" Somehow, amid the ruckus and screams, Rebecca heard him perfectly. "They're this way, but-oh! My riding habit! I can't ride in this." She made a move to turn back to the mansion, but knew better. With all the red coats running around, she was better off to just flee and ruin her dress.

"Let's go! Can you ride bareback?" Ducking between two trees, Rebecca lead the young man away from the fray, towards the back part of the house. If they needed to, she could saddle the horses fairly quickly, but bareback would be faster, and easier in the gown she was wearing.