Working title for now: The Silent Blade
Warnings:
I do not own Altair or any other characters in Assassin's Creed.
I have taken full creative licence and liberty regarding certain events in the game, certain tenants of the Assassin's Creed, the Hashashins/Order of Assassins and tweaked certain historical information to fit my story and purposes.
This story contains spoilers for parts of the game, and although it does not follow the game's storyline, it borrows heavily from certain parts.
Consider this an Assassin's Creed AU.
Rated M for violence and lemons.
Chapter 1:
The small town of Masyaf is bustling in the early hours of the morning as the townspeople make their way out of their homes to shop for food at the merchant's stalls, water and groom their horses and wash their laundry in the near-by river. The Hashashin's fortress, a tall, gray-stone castle, where Al-Mualim, the Master of the Assassin's, dwells, stands high on top of the hill overlooking the town. The fortress also houses the training grounds for the entire novice assassin's.
Guards keep their post at the tall wooden gates to the town. It's an unusual arrangement the townspeople have with the Hashashins. The town guards keep any outsiders from entering the town, while the town itself provides a front for keeping the location of the Hashashin headquarters a secret from the outside world. While the Assassins provide the gold and means for the townspeople to maintain their adequate existence in Masyaf.
A white stallion appears on the edge of the horizon; a white clothed figure sitting in the saddle. The guards at the front gates stand up straighter and squint their eyes, tensing and gripping their swords, ready for battle in case this is a stranger who does not belong.
The horse gallops down the hill leading to Masyaf, but as it gets closer to the town, the rider pulls back on the reins. He murmurs a soft, low "Whoa…" and the horse slows down to a steady walk. The guards release their grip on their swords as they recognize the horse and rider.
"Altair," one of the guards greets the Assassin, standing up straighter.
Altair, his face hidden in his hood, nods his head to the guard, but does not say a word as he rides on by. The guards open the wooden gate, allowing the Assassin to enter the town. Altair rides through the town, slowly making his way up the hill to the large fortress. When he reaches the entrance to the castle, Altair dismounts his horse, loosely tying the reins around a wooden post. He walks into the wide-open foyer, where a handful of gray-hooded assassins are standing guard. "The Master has been waiting for you," one of the apprentices says to Altair.
Altair walks by, not acknowledging the apprentice, but making his way up the staircase to the Master's library. Al-Mualim, clad in a white robe, with a black hooded overcoat, is standing behind a large table, looking out the window behind him, down into the training arena below. "Altair," he says, his voice low, but his words harsh. "Where have you been?!"
Altair stands before the Master, his head bowed, his eyes looking down to the floor. He does not answer.
"Altair," Al-Mualim asks again. "Answer me!"
"Master," Altair starts, softly. "I have just ridden from Acre. I needed to go there. To seek out another Templar. I have found more information…."
"Silence!" Al-Mualim cuts him off. "I have already forbidden you from this vengeance that you seek, yet you defy me every chance you get. Why must you persist on this disobedience?"
"I am getting closer," Altair explains. "I must ride to Jerusalem next. I know I will find the one responsible there."
Al-Mualim reaches out a hand and quickly slaps Altair across the face. "Stay your tongue boy!" Al-Mualim yells. "This insubordination is not fitting behaviour of a master Assassin. You have taken advantage of the freedoms afforded you. I am now forbidding you to leave the fortress until I can think of a suitable punishment for your wickedness."
Altair, holding onto the stinging red flesh on the side of his face, opens his mouth to speak but then thinks better of it. Instead he lets out a sigh, "Yes Master," he says. He turns and strides harshly out of the library and down the stairs to his personal quarters.
Closing the door behind him, Altair begins to pace around his room. Then as if remembering all of a sudden, he opens the pouch on the back of his belt and pulls the small curled up piece of parchment he had stolen from the Templar's chest back in Acre. Releasing the scabbard from his waist, his long sword falls to the stone floor with a loud clang, then Altair settles down onto the cushions and blankets on the mat on the floor to read the letter.
Sibrand –
The port blockade must be completed on time to ensure the European reinforcements cannot make their way to Acre. Hold fast …the Assass'aiun will not track you on your ship.
I will be attending Majd Addin's funeral in Jerusalem 5 days hence. Ensure the port blockade of Acre is completed by then.
We will ride to Arsuf after the funeral to ensure King Richard's peace treaty negotiations with the Saracen go as planned.
I will send a messenger at that time.
-Robert
Altair crumbles the parchment in his hand and lets out a cry of anger. He had a feeling Robert de Sable was behind it all. He knew he should have killed him in Solomon's Temple when he had the chance. Closing his eyes, Altair lays back against the cushions to get some rest, all the while his mind whirring with thoughts of how he would make his way to Jerusalem to end Robert's life once and for all.
