Connor rose and headed back towards where he had left Lafayette. By the time he returned, the guard had arrived, and were beginning to search the area. Connor dropped back down to the street, and hailed Lafayette.
The Marquis looked composed for someone who had nearly died. He was showing one of the guards his saddle, which had the attacker’s bullet lodged in the seat. He looked up when Connor called to him, and when he approached bounded over to him and threw him arms around Connor before kissing him on both cheeks, in that uniquely French manner that made Connor extremely uncomfortable.
“I owe you my life!” Lafayette exclaimed. “Thank you, Connor. Not even the king’s bodyguards could have acted so swiftly.”
Connor allowed himself a smile, but didn’t accept the praise. “I got the man. He committed suicide once I cornered him.” He turned to tell the guard. “You can find his body on the rooftops a few block to the west.” The guard nodded, and called to the others. Connor turned back to Lafayette. “I searched him, but there was nothing identifying on him. Only a considerable sum of money.”
Lafayette frowned. “A hired killer? But why would a hired killer kill himself rather than try to bargain with the name of his benefactor in exchange for his life?”
Connor shrugged. “Fear, perhaps? Or perhaps he was only made to look like a mercenary.” He had not been wearing Templar ring or chain, but perhaps that was a custom unique to the British and American Templars.
Lafayette nodded. “I would say the second more likely.”
Connor was about to reply, but when the Marquis turned to glance at the guards coming back up the street with the attacker’s body, he noticed the blood beginning to soak through Lafayette’s white-powdered hair.
“Are you alright?” he asked, alarmed. Lafayette didn’t appear to have noticed he was injured.
Lafayette blinked. “A bit bruised from that fall, but I’m fine,” he replied, a moment before pitching forward in a dead faint.
l'aigle et le révolutionnaire 5b/?
The Marquis looked composed for someone who had nearly died. He was showing one of the guards his saddle, which had the attacker’s bullet lodged in the seat. He looked up when Connor called to him, and when he approached bounded over to him and threw him arms around Connor before kissing him on both cheeks, in that uniquely French manner that made Connor extremely uncomfortable.
“I owe you my life!” Lafayette exclaimed. “Thank you, Connor. Not even the king’s bodyguards could have acted so swiftly.”
Connor allowed himself a smile, but didn’t accept the praise. “I got the man. He committed suicide once I cornered him.” He turned to tell the guard. “You can find his body on the rooftops a few block to the west.” The guard nodded, and called to the others. Connor turned back to Lafayette. “I searched him, but there was nothing identifying on him. Only a considerable sum of money.”
Lafayette frowned. “A hired killer? But why would a hired killer kill himself rather than try to bargain with the name of his benefactor in exchange for his life?”
Connor shrugged. “Fear, perhaps? Or perhaps he was only made to look like a mercenary.” He had not been wearing Templar ring or chain, but perhaps that was a custom unique to the British and American Templars.
Lafayette nodded. “I would say the second more likely.”
Connor was about to reply, but when the Marquis turned to glance at the guards coming back up the street with the attacker’s body, he noticed the blood beginning to soak through Lafayette’s white-powdered hair.
“Are you alright?” he asked, alarmed. Lafayette didn’t appear to have noticed he was injured.
Lafayette blinked. “A bit bruised from that fall, but I’m fine,” he replied, a moment before pitching forward in a dead faint.