"No! I don't want to see you! You let my father go!" Screamed the boy, and though the boy was barely half his size Faheem felt as if he'd been struck very hard in the face.
They stood in the dead of night, not three weeks after the unfortunate death of Umar. Stars lined the heavens above, but even with the moon full in the sky, they were provided only with a dull light. It was enough, at least, that he could see the tears that streaked the little boy's cheeks.
Somehow, the eleven year old boy had slipped past the guards undetected and made it past the gates. This was where Faheem found him, attempting to sneak off into the unknown expanse beyond the walls of Masyaf.
"Where do you think you are going, boy?" He'd called out upon spotting the solitary figure standing over the ridges, peering, he imagined, into the haystack below.
Caught red handed, Altair whirled around to face him, shoulders squaring defensively and determination fierce on his features. "Stay back! I am going to avenge my father's death and you won't stop me!"
Seeing the boy as he was, was enough to break his heart. "Altair… seeking revenge will not bring your father back to you, nor soothe your pain. If you don't quiet down you will wake all of Masyaf and beyond. Come back inside with me."
This was when Altair had refused. Did the boy truly blame him? Faheem thought not. The boy had suffered a great loss. He would blame anyone if it might soothe his broken heart even a little. Still, the words stung. Altair had not been the only one to lose someone dear to him.
"No!" The boy screamed again. He wanted to lash out, it appeared, and yet he stood very still, clenching his fists at his sides and shaking.
Brows furrowing, Faheem crouched to Altair's level.
"The goal you aim for, Altair, is unwise." He spoke quietly so that Altair had to strain to hear, but it made him listen more intently. "It would do us no good; the enemy has gone."
Altair bristled; he didn't like the sounds of that. "You only say that because you are a coward! You are all cowards!"
"Perhaps," Replied Faheem, patiently, "You face yourself with a task that all of Masyaf could not accomplish. Do you think that one boy would show more success? With, what?" He gestured at the Altair's hand, "A dagger? I cannot see you getting very far, child."
Altair glared, eyes shimmering with wetness. "At least I would have tried," The boy tried to protest, but his will was growing weaker now.
"Do you understand what your father gave his life for?" He crept closer to Altair, extending a hand toward the blade. "He died to end a long battle, one which we might otherwise have lost. It was to bring peace so that we cowards might go on. And he died, mostly, for you. So that you may live knowing safety." Altair's anger was fleeing him in place of something else, the underlying pain. He yielded the blade squeezed tight in his hand and Faheem tucked it away.
"I understand your desire for revenge, Altair, but think first of what your father gave his life for, and be sure that it would not unravel all he has done." He placed his hands firmly upon the boy's shoulders and squeezed. "If you seek revenge, assure that your skills are above all others, that your blade is sharp and your mind is sharper. Do not make an attempt tonight."
Body taut and fists still clenched, Altair exhaled with a notable hitch in his breath. "I just-" He hiccupped- "I just want my father," The boy sobbed, and what remained of his composure crumbled, "That's all. I would rather us all be at war and to never know peace, if only he was still here!"
Faheem pulled the boy close, into a tight embrace. "I am sorry, my child. Truly, I am. I wish I could have done more." Altair did not fight, push away or even reply. He was a child who had suffered too much a loss, whose entire world had been torn away from him before his eyes and in its wake, he could only cry. Faheem let him. He rubbed his back and hushed him and offered sweet words.
Seeming so tiny in his arms, Altair fell asleep before long and became a limp, trembling heap in his arms. As most children after they had cried as hard as he had, his breaths were still ragged and broken sobs still wracked his tiny body.
Sighing, Faheem lifted the sleeping child. "I miss him too, sweet child." He whispered as he started toward the castle; toward the only home they knew.
"I miss him too."
