Kostantiniyye

1512

Sofia's screams echoed loudly in his ears, but the bruised and badly beaten Assassin could do nothing for her, now. The elbow and forearm of a heavily-armed Janissary pressed tightly against the back of Yusuf's neck, hindering his breathing. He winced, his right hand automatically feeling for a weapon, and finding nothing but a low-set window. The grip on his neck tightened, and for a few seconds, he saw stars crossing his vision. The initial blow against the wall of Sofia's near-ancient bookstore had almost been enough to knock him out cold. He'd clung to consciousness, only to be nearly brought to his knees by a Byzantine arm. But the pressure then faded somewhat, and Yusuf was able to turn his head, just enough to catch sight of a very pale, very frightened, Sofia Sartor in the window's reflection.

"Bu, tamam, Sofia." He made out, wincing in pain. His forehead throbbed. "Go with them. Do not fight." He'd already failed to protect her – the last thing he wanted was for them to bring her any harm before Ezio returned. I am sorry, Mentor. Allah knows I tried.

"Wise words." Yusuf tried to crane his head around, but the Byzantine thug holding him tightened his grip on the nape of his neck. Even without catching sight of the speaker, however, he knew the voice. Ahmet. The men holding Sofia made to drag her out, but the future ruler of Kostantiniyye held up his hand. Light passing through the tinted glass windows formed a surreal pattern against his brightly-colored robes.

"Not yet. Surely she should see what happens to those who oppose Templar rule." A sick smile formed over his Ottoman features. The red-haired woman kicked out at her attackers, but her arms were drawn tightly behind her back. She could go nowhere. Eventually she stopped, breathing hard, her eyes drifting over the man she had come to know well over the last two months. She swallowed, her mouth dry. So much had gone wrong in so little time. Only two months ago Ezio had to suddenly depart Constantinople, without telling her where he was going. Hours later, she'd been briefly introduced to Yusuf Tazim, a supposed 'friend of the family'. He had odd tastes, but told her that he owed Ezio a debt, and promised to look after her.

Now the bookseller shivered, despite the warmth of the building.

"Please don't hurt him, Ahmet. Whoever you really are…"

"My lady." He smiled. "How else will your brash paramour ever learn who not to cross?" He noted her horrified expression with satisfaction, and waved his hand to his men.

"My Grand Vizier was murdered three days ago by the Assassins. I want this done right, and done promptly. Then take the woman to Galata Tower and wait for further orders." He paused, ripping a page out of a book and using the quill from Sofia's desk to write. He quickly finished, handling the note to one of the Janissaries.

"Be sure that Ezio gets the message." He glowered darkly at the Assassin before stalking out, tailed by several of his private guard. Yusuf braced his palms against the wall, trying to push back against the Janissary. But he was immediately shoved roughly back into the wall, hitting his cheekbone so hard against the window frame that it bruised. He didn't try again. He wouldn't risk any harm coming to Sofia.

"You Templars are all cowards." He groaned, fingers curling against the stone wall, warm from the direct sunlight streaming through the glass windows. He felt so tired.

"You will steal a woman, hoping to draw your target to you instead of taking the higher ground."

"Oh?" Yusuf winced as he received a sharp smack on the back of his head for his lack of manners. The elbow dug buried itself deeper into his neck.

"Evet." He whispered hoarsely, forcing a dry chuckle. "Truth be told, a cockroach has more integrity then – "

"Silence!" The Janissary snarled, grasping Yusuf's shoulders so tightly the Assassin visibly flinched. He jerked his chin to another soldier. "Bring it here."

Yusuf heard Sofia shriek, a split second before an icy pain, beyond that which he had ever felt before, was thrust into his back. He staggered, knees sagging. He felt the pressure let up on his neck, but the throbbing heaviness in his back caused his legs to collapse. He fell onto the bench to his left, leaning heavily against the wall. His face tilted upward, and his eyes drifted over the window. Formerly made up of nothing but clear, stunning glass work, the Assassin's blood stained it a dark, muddy reddish-brown. Faded lights danced in his eyes, and the world around him began to ebb out of focus.

Sofia's cries seemed so very far away. The Assassin felt something warm run down his back. His own body feeling very cold, the strange heat actually felt strangely soothing. He wanted to tell Sofia it was alright – that she had to go with them to keep herself safe. That Ezio would arrive soon for her. But he could force none of the words out. He could only stare at the Byzantine soldier who had stabbed him as he carefully wiped the blood from his hands.

"Now there is a message that the old Mentor can't ignore." He noted quietly. "You know, I cannot understand you Assassins. You fight for an unwinnable cause. Progress cannot be halted. Nor should it be. The Templars will rule the future, Assassin, and those like you will either be killed or simply thrown aside." He watched the dying Assassin a moment longer, than left him.

"Bring her. We are finished here."

Sofia's shrieks of protest quickly subsided. All Yusuf could hear was the steady rush of the wind outside and the scattered calls of a lone bird, until even those sounds faded away. He struggled to focus his vision, at the same time fighting to continue breathing. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, but enough was enough. The Assassin let himself settle limply against the wall. Indeed – if his death was to be a message for Ezio, let his Mentor receive it loud and clear.

The Assassins would not stand down. They would never stand down. Yusuf could only hope that to his Mentor, his followers and his Creed, his death would hold some measure of meaning.

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