A/N: You get this chapter early because I will be away from my computer for the next few days. Also, because I am nice and a good person and I don't make you wait 3
Chapter 6: Camaraderie in Conflict
"These men don't know anything."
"How do you know? They have not even spoken yet."
"I can see their intentions."
Malik rolled his eyes at his companion, sitting beside him on the bench in the Rich District plaza. The two characters they were listening in on looked suspicious enough to him to warrant a closer look, but Altaїr thought differently. This was the third conversation that they had listened in on, and the third conversation that Altaїr had correctly predicted to be unhelpful or uninvolved with their search for the second captain.
"Fascinating," sarcastic praise dripped off of Malik's tongue. He stood and glanced around. "Perhaps with your superiority you could conjure up some information for us."
A low, self-righteous chuckle came from his companion, still sitting on the bench with his hands clasped before him. "This is your captain to find and silence. Please, show me the proper way to uncover information, Master Malik."
If Malik had any less restraint and a lower tolerance for his own pettiness, he would have kicked the man. He was determined to learn information without resorting to killing the informer, but so far his attempts had all run flat. All of this had not gone unnoticed by the cocky bastard he had for a partner, and he was not silent in pointing it out. It was already almost noon and all of their efforts had thus far been in vain. He knew they should work together, but Malik was determined to not stoop so low as to ask for help from his rival.
As it was, Malik turned and stalked away, not bothering to look back and see if Altaїr followed. Soon enough, there was a brush at his shoulder and a whispering voice in his ear. "Perhaps we should listen in on some guards instead of civilians."
"I do not need your help," Malik growled at him. He could see the crooked, scarred smile as Altaїr sided up to him.
"No, but you will take my advice regardless." Malik rolled his eyes. This man was insufferable.
They sat upon a bench in the shade of a mosque and listened in on a group of guards stationed at its entrance. Altaїr gave Malik a knowing and victorious smirk that the other man ignored.
"Has the captain told you anything else about this new menace trying to destroy Saladin?" The first guard asked his two comrades.
One of them shrugged. "I heard that the Christian king had gotten new recruits."
The third guard scoffed at the two. "You are obviously not in Qusay Saqqaf's inner circle." Malik honed in on the words. "It's the Assassins. They are the ones infiltrating his army and adding to its strength. They mean to take over."
The first guard looked aghast. "I thought the Assassins were only a rumor."
"The captain of the Poor District was killed yesterday by a knife wound in his chest. You can't tell me that is not a coincidence," the third guard divulged.
The second guard added. "None were left alive." Malik shot his companion a scathing glance, but the man was intently focused on the conversation between the district guards.
"Will Hameed Ali be appointing a new captain?" Now they had two names to look into: their target and possibly the captain's superior officer.
The third guard, apparently in close contact with their captain, shook his head. "Not until this assassin is dealt with."
Beside Malik, Altaїr stood. "We will hear no more."
Malik glared up at him. "If we follow that guard," referring to the third man, "we may find our target."
"Why follow him when we can interrogate? It makes for quicker results." That man was insufferable.
"Quicker, yes," Malik conceded before sharpening his voice. "But also idiotic and unnecessary." At that, the other assassin sighed and sat back down on the bench. They waited a good while until the guards changed, sitting in tense silence. As the third guard walked away, the two assassins stood in unison and followed the man at a distance, weaving through the afternoon crowds. Malik could sense the impatience wafting around his companion but was content to ignore it wholeheartedly. As the guard approached a building with bars across the open windows, Malik breathed a silent sigh of relief. The man had led them to the district's guard post. The pair waited until the man closed the door behind him and stole to the window, sitting just outside of its viewing range.
"Captain Saqqaf," the now familiar voice of the guard carried out of the window, "I wish to report." After a silence, he appeared to receive permission to speak. "The guards on the plaza did not know of the assassin attack yesterday. Is it in the plan to keep this silent?"
"Only those with the loudest voices are told of this threat," a gruff voice answered. It stirred a deep mistrust in Malik and by the way Altaїr's brows drew together, the feeling was mutual. "Those who openly speak out against the Assassins are always in danger."
The guard's voice held fear in place of the arrogance it once had before his peers. "Then why did you tell me to speak out?"
"Your life is meaningless in the grand scheme of this war. It is an ageless battle that you could not possibly comprehend. It reaches beyond the scope of the Crusades." If there ever was a doubt in Malik's mind as to who his next target would be, it was washed away by the man's words. His disregard for the life of his comrade was almost as condemnable as his affiliations with the Templars.
The guard was clearly shaken. "Y-yes, Captain. I will take my leave." The two assassins dissolved into the shadows behind the building as the man emerged, carefully looking over his shoulder for any potential threats before hurrying on. Little did he know that he would live to see another day, even as he was being watched by the two men he was so terrified of.
The door opened once again and the two assassins saw their target stalk out into the street, confidence emanating from his proud gait. He walked on, unaware of the threat that followed in his footsteps. They went on for quite a while, weaving through crowds and passing through markets. Then, the man made a fatal turn. He strode through the entrance to a dark alleyway, and the two assassins quickened their pace to follow.
Malik's breath caught in his throat, almost suspicious of the man's actions. He stepped into the alleyway regardless, as did his companion, and they followed the man on silent feet. He turned one more corner, and Malik stole forward to strike. His hidden blade was out and he was upon the man just as he was turning, the look of suspicion turning to one of shock and dismay. Whatever confidence he once showed was gone, his sense of invulnerability thrown to the wind as the blade slid silently into his chest. Malik angled his strike so as to not stab the man's heart, keeping him alive long enough to question him.
"How did you-" the man gurgled, his legs failing beneath him. Malik eased his victim down onto the ground, hidden blade now pressed to his throat.
"Tell me about Hameed Ali and the lies he has told you," Malik growled, pressing the blade into the soft skin.
The man choked out a laugh. "Why should I tell you, Assassin? How do you know it will not be a lie?"
"This is your last moment alive. You will not use it to further corrupt this world, Templar. Now tell me, what lies have you been spreading?"
"Do you know what we Templars do? We instill fear in the people. We make them fight for our cause by planting information into their tiny, manipulatable minds." The man wheezed in a wet breath. "Saladin has retaken Acre and Jerusalem, so we must stand and fight to keep Damascus safe from the Christian King. You Assassins fight for peace," Saqqaf spat, "we are achieving it."
"Through war and lies?" Malik growled.
"Through conquest and leadership," he replied.
"There is the problem with leaders," Altaїr quipped. "They are easily silenced."
Saqqaf coughed, blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth. "Silenced, maybe, but once the words are said they live on."
"It ends with you," Malik finished, slicing the man's throat. The throes of death were silent and ended quickly. A feather was pressed to his red neck and replaced in a pouch at the assassin's waist. Malik withdrew his hidden blade and stood to face his companion. "One target, one name, one death."
Altaїr shrugged him off. "I could have done it in half the time."
"Yes, and for the other half you would be spending escaping the guards that caught you. I revealed information to relay to Al Mualim about the Templar plans. I also have a name for the man behind the rumors." Malik strode past his partner, who followed and fell into step beside him as they weaved their way through the dark alleyways. "If you had interrogated and killed that guard, you would have killed an innocent. Qusay Saqqaf had set him up as bait for us."
"No affiliates of the Templars are innocent, whether they claim to be Christians or Saracens." Altaїr replied, though his excuse fell flat. It was a weak argument, and he knew it.
Malik shook his head. "I will not continue to argue with you about this. Let us return to the bureau and inform the Rafiq of our findings and of Qusay Saqqaf's death."
"Lead the way," Altaїr conceded. With that, Malik stole him a challenging smirk and took off at a sprint, climbing up a stack of crates and catching the ledge of the roof. He glanced over to see Altaїr climbing up beside him, a crooked grin on his face. Malik ran with light feet across the roof, leaping from one building to the next, his companion not too far off. The twinge of pain in his ribs was noticeable but not bad enough to slow him down.
The two assassins reached the rooftop entrance of the bureau simultaneously, though by different routes.
They dropped into the bureau and approached the Rafiq together. He glanced up and appeared to be pleased at the sight of the two men looking at least companionable.
"Greetings, brothers. I sense that the day went well. What have you accomplished?"
Malik stepped forward, presenting his bloodied feather to the man. "Qusay Saqqaf, the Saracen captain of the Rich District is dead. He spoke of Hameed Ali. He is supposedly the one spreading the lies to the captains."
The Rafiq nodded at this, taking note in the Assassin ledger. "He must be the Templar behind all of this. I will send word to Al Mualim of this man." He retrieved a pigeon from a cage beside the counter. "Go rest; I will have a meal prepared soon."
"Thank you, Rafiq," Malik said before retreating, Altaїr following suit. Malik went straight to the fountain, washing the blood from his hidden blade and splashing water onto his face and neck. Altaїr sat on the cushions, drawing his sword and running his whetstone along its length. Malik soon joined him, removing the rest of his weapons and storing them off to the side before sharpening his own sword beside the man.
Feeling oddly companionable, Malik asked the question that he had wanted to ask the man for hours now. "What did you mean when you said that you could see our target's intentions?" It had been the second time that the man had mentioned it, and Malik was burning to know what exactly it was.
Altaїr was readily receptive to the question, oddly enough. Malik figured he answered simply because he enjoyed bragging about himself. "It's a special sight. I don't know how to describe it. I have been training myself on how to use it. I call it Eagle Vision."
Malik scoffed. "That's not pompous." He looked to Altaїr to see him raise an eyebrow, but a smirk formed on his lips. Malik took a stab in the dark. "What can you see of my intentions?"
Those amber eyes were concealed, Altaїr's expression falling flat as he closed his eyes. When they once again fell upon him, Malik felt like they were burning through him. The odd feeling sent a shiver down his spine that had little to do with the evening chill. The gaze broke and the smirk was back again.
"Not entirely sinister," Altaїr replied, returning to sharpening his sword.
Malik rolled his eyes. "You are just saying that because I am not brandishing my blade at you."
Altaїr feigned surprise. "You do not believe me?"
"I do not believe anything that you say." It was meant to be lighthearted, but by the way Altaїr's expression fell, leaving only a hollow smirk behind, that is not the way it was taken.
Altaїr laughed quietly, mirthlessly. "You have that in common with Abbas."
Malik took a chance, prying into the man's life, seeking answers that he knew he could get nowhere else. He was not entirely sure why he wanted to know. "You two were close once."
"Perhaps." The man would not meet Malik's gaze, discomfort obvious in his tensed shoulders, his sharpening motions stilled.
It may have been too much, it may have begun a conflict, but Malik dared to pry further. "You have history with him. You were partners from a young age."
Malik did not expect the smirk that flashed across Altaїr's features, those bright amber eyes flashing mischievously at him. "Jealous?"
The other assassin sat back, aghast. He stumbled to answer. "Why should I be jealous that he was forced to be in your presence?"
Altaїr chuckled softly, turning back to his blade. "Perhaps I have read you wrong all these years."
Malik scowled. "Perhaps you were right all these years and just now you are reading me wrong."
The conversation was interrupted as the Rafiq announced their evening meal. The pair set their blades aside and followed the man to partake in the offered food.
End Notes: What's this? Getting along? Blasphemy! I have been loving your comments, keep them coming! (Kudos are nice too, thank you kudo givers!)
Next time on Silent Discourse: some action! Whoo! Stay tuned for next week's chapter, Pinched in Pursuit!