Chapter Ten
I like to pretend that I went down fighting. You know, forcing them to pull my sword from my fingers, even after I had succumbed to their attacks? Or maybe I spat in the faces as they approached me to deliver the final blow. Something poetic, something brave.
But truth be told, I have no idea what happened after that. I have no recollection of it. Chances are I just fainted, falling in a heap next to the captain after he said that name.
The next thing I remember is listening to the brothers debate my fate.
"Just leave him here!" the woman shouted. The archer, no doubt. "Master Ahraib will never know."
"Sister, you must follow your orders, even if they do not make sense to you at the time," a male voice responded. "You assume Ahraib wants him alive for personal reasons, but I have heard whisperings of different motivations."
"I cannot bear to carry him with us, to tend to him! I'll cut his throat in his sleep!"
"And Captain Zarif!" another man cut in. "One of us must bring him back. He'll die if we don't."
"And what of Haytham? Or his lover?" the rational one shot back. "Would you truly return to the gates of Masyaf just with Kaim alone?" He paused, and no one responded. "Good, then we are in agreement. Sister, I charge you with the task of riding back to Masyaf with our captain. Deliver an update and …"
"I won't leave you," she blurted.
"You must," he implored. "You must tell them to send reinforcements. And Zarif has no chance at life if you do not ride as fast as you can for home."
"What of him?" she asked with disgust.
"We'll take him with us, and then seek out Haytham and his lover."
"My brothers," she said. I heard her swallow as she struggled to speak. "Safety and peace."
"We are sorry for your loss, sister," another said. I heard the sound of a kiss, an affectionate kiss on the cheek. "God be with you."
They went silent for a moment, and I heard the shuffling of garments and a low moan of pain as Zarif was slung over the saddle. The woman mounted.
"Is he secure?"
"Yes," the woman responded. "I will not let him die."
Before any could respond, she kicked the horse into a trot and began weaving through the trees, back toward Masyaf.
I was somewhat aware of the fact that I, too, was being lifted up and tied onto someone's saddle. My left arm was jarred with the movement, and out of my throat came a noise I didn't even register as my own.
I felt someone mount the horse behind me. "Oh my, I do believe he hurts," said the rider, who had calmed the archer just moments before. "I don't know if you can hear me, but do not mistake my words to the woman as kindness. I want you dead as badly as her." Sparks flew before my vision as the rider punched me in the left side, on my broken ribs. I retched, but nothing came out. "But I know when to follow orders."
The brothers goaded their horses into a trot. The pain didn't lessen; instead, it increased with each bounce of the horse's stride.
I'm going to die, I thought. And with me, my daughter and Haytham.
For a moment, I thought I had died. Because I was standing next to my first love, Aless, and we were both looking down on our son, wrapped in blankets and sleeping peacefully.
When the body is at its weakest, the mind retreats to the safest places it knows. And standing there with Aless and Jaim a few weeks after our son's birth is my safest memory. So that is where my mind stubbornly stayed as the Assassins raced after the Templars.
He looked so perfect.
"Jaim," I said, my voice filled with awe. "That's … that's my son."
"Yes," Aless said, clutching my hand.
"And you're OK?" I asked her, but my eyes were still on the babe. How had she brought this tiny, breathing manifestation of our love into the plane of reality? None of it made sense, especially then, when I myself was still so much a child. I had no words to describe my awe.
"Of course," she said quietly. "But, you shouldn't have came."
Only a few minutes earlier, I had tumbled through the window of a tiny peasant's cottage, and my lover looked less than elated to see me. It was night, the time after the moon has reached its highest point in the sky, but the time before the sun has given the world any hope of ever returning.
Aless, as I've mentioned, had been forced to leave the inner gates of the brotherhood shortly after she announced to me her pregnancy. During her travels to Acre, the Templars had learned of her lineage: She was the daughter of a master, Omran.
This made her too tempting a target, especially during such a vulnerable time as pregnancy, I was told. So my love was taken from me and hidden away among the peasants. I was forced to stay in the inner courts and train.
I learned of my son's birth the same day I earned the hood. Omran performed the ceremony: pulling the hood over my head, kissing my forehead and reciting the oath to me.
When he finished, he clapped me on the shoulder.
"Kaim, my daughter has given you a son, and me a grandson," he said.
He must have seen the instant desperation in my eyes.
"No," he said. "Do not go to her. You will risk everything. In a few months, they will be brought back to us. But for now, they must remain in hiding."
"Yes, master," I said. This, of course, actually meant, "No, master, I'm sneaking away and seeing her as soon as I'm able."
"Don't you want to know his name? He is to be called Jaim."
How dull to have father and son names that sound so similar, I thought. It must have shown on my face.
Yes, I am an Assassin, but I'm a poor bluffer. We all have our strengths and weaknesses.
"Jaim was the name of my father," he explained. "It is a fitting name."
"Yes, master," I said. But I was hardly listening; I was already plotting my visit to the village.
I didn't find the opportunity to take that visit until a few agonizing weeks later. When I finally arrived at Aless' side, I couldn't understand why she was so concerned.
"Shouldn't have came?" I repeated in astonishment. "Did you expect me to stay away?"
She didn't answer. She, of course, was more mature than I. I wanted nothing more than the instant gratification of seeing them, while she was worried about the long-term survival of our new family. But she must of known that even if she tried to explain it, I wouldn't have listened.
Instead, she just studied me, standing before her in my new, white robes.
"You are a brother now."
"Yes," I said absently as I stared at the babe.
"And what are your feelings on it?"
"Feelings on it?"
"Yes, are you proud?"
"No," I said before I could think about my answer.
"No? Why not?"
"Because," I replied, gaining courage the more I thought it through. "Because this -- my family with you and Jaim -- is all that matters to me now."
"That might be blasphemy," she observed in a whisper.
"I might not care."
Silence filled the space between us. Jaim sighed.
I suddenly became very conscious of the fact that I was standing next to my future wife, and we had not experienced each other in months. The realization blasted through my body like a hot wind. Instantly, I became aware of her beauty: her hair, her hips and her wise expression.
She sensed the change in me. She turned away from the babe and looked up at me.
"Would you like to hold him?" she asked, but she already knew my answer.
"Don't wake him," I said, my eyes pleading. "Not yet."
She smiled at me and nodded. "Not yet."
And then we fell together, literally. I rushed her and let my knees give out until I was kneeling before her. She went down into a crouch and then bent her arm around to catch herself. But before we could even lay on the ground completely, we pressed our bodies together. I buried my nose into her neck, her breasts pressed against me, as I struggled to unlatch my hilt from my hip.
"Too long," she moaned as she balanced with one arm on the ground, the other around my neck, and her entire body arched up into mine. Her nimble fingers undid the latch for me, and my sword fell to the ground. She pushed my hood off my face, and the symbolism of the gesture was not lost on me.
"Yes," I said. My mouth went to work on her neck, calling up little noises from her throat, as my hand frantically clutched at her robes, pulling them up, up, up. "Only you, only you."
I didn't care that I wasn't making sense, and I doubt she did, either.
She finally let her rear hit the floor, and I took my place upon her. It was all so familiar, the way our bodies responded to each other. Yet I ached for her just like I had our first night on the stable roof.
I wouldn't wait. Physically, I couldn't for much longer anyway, even if I wanted to. And she couldn't either, judging by the way she forcefully tugged my robes over my head.
Let me be clear: There was nothing slow or nothing gentle about any of this. We had a need, a need that could only be met by our joining.
It wasn't until after we had finished that I realized we had never even made it to her sleeping area. I stood and pulled up my breeches. "Sorry," I said, helping her up with a shrug.
She shook the dirt out of her robes and slipped the innermost layer back over her head. "It's not too late," she said as she curled up in the circle of straw, pillows and blankets. I was quick to join her and invited her head on my chest.
We laid there, basking in our satisfaction. I'll take her again, I thought dreamily, in just a little while, as soon as I catch my breath. And I will pay proper homage to her and her body this time, I decided.
But no, I realized, that's not possible. How much longer did I have before they noticed me missing? I glanced out the window. I saw nothing but the same blackness that had surrounded during my frantic journey to her side, but I knew that to be a lie. Time was passing. Every second I laid there with her, I further risked discovery. Master Ahraib knew of my plans, but even he couldn't lie for me for long.
I looked at the white robes, now just a harmless heap on the dirt floor. In a rush of passion characteristic of youth, I dreamed of throwing them in the fire or ripping them to shreds with my knife.
"I would leave the brotherhood if it meant your safety, Aless," I said suddenly.
She pulled away from me and propped her body up, finding my eyes. "Don't say such things!"
"You were exposed once. How do we know it won't happen again? All I've ever wanted is a life with you, with our son. Let's leave, together, tonight."
"What you want doesn't matter now," she said, leaving no room for question in her voice. "From now on, we focus only on the needs of our son." She placed her hand along my jaw line. "Can you understand that for me?"
"What I want and what my son needs are one in the same!" I declared.
"Hush," she said, her eyes traveling to the babe. "Or you'll wake him." She watched me for a moment, waiting for me to return to calm. It was always like that with us: She seemed to walk on air with her centered perspective of things, but I could never find the self control to stop myself from becoming lost in the skies, a bird always forced to flap.
I wasn't quite ready to give in just yet, to float on the wind currents next to her. "What if I miss something? What if he walks or talks or …"
"I don't think any of that will happen too terribly soon," she said gently.
"How do you know?" I was clutching at anything I could find.
"There is a pattern to these things, Kaim."
I relaxed, finally giving in to her logic. She laid on my chest again. "Do you know now why we can't take such risks?" she asked.
"If we leave, we will always be running, cheating death," I said.
"Yes."
"And we will never have peace."
"Yes."
"And that is not the life I want for my son."
She nodded. "But Kaim, please understand." She wrapped her fingers in mine. "If there ever came a time where that was the only option left …"
"… We will take it," I finished for her. I sighed. "I feel so helpless."
"It is a common sentiment of parenthood, so I'm told. To never feel adequate."
"Do you feel that way?"
She paused. "Always," she said, her voice thick with longing. Before I could protest, she slipped away from me. "Come, you must hold him, while you still have time."
"No, please, don't go."
"Do not rub sand into this fresh wound of mine," she said as she reached for him. "I must already part from you all over again, just after convincing myself that I could wait a few more months." She extended the sleeping child before me. "Take him."
I stood there, shirtless. But I had never felt more naked or weak in my entire life. "How?"
As always, she didn't judge. Instead, she took my arms and moved them into the proper position and laid the babe in my arms.
I won't try to describe it. If you're a parent, you know what I felt. If you're not, I pray that some day you will understand. But it was all so tainted, so bitter, because I knew I couldn't stay there. Aless watched me hold him for a moment, but then she closed the distance between us and carefully laid her hand on my shoulder.
"You must go," she said. "Before you can't find the strength."
I couldn't deny the wisdom in her words, but I couldn't give him back, even though I knew that I had to. "Take him," I said.
She lifted him out of my arms and leaned in, planting a chaste kiss on my cheek. She knew better than to try to find words. Nothing she could have said would have made it any easier.
I turned from her, threw my white robe back over my body and restrapped my weapons. Without allowing myself even one more glance, I leapt back out the window.
If I had known then that I would never see them again after that night, I probably would have looked.
A few weeks later, as I casually sparred in the training ring, Omran came rushing at me. He leapt over the small fence and grabbed me by the collar. I forced my body to stay prone. If I were to strike back, it could have meant death.
"It's your fault!" he cried as he shook me. As his lips moved, spit flew out from between his yellow teeth. "We all saw you creep away. And now you've brought death upon them!"
"Who?" I asked, daring to pull away from him. Accusing an assassin of killing something is slightly ironic, after all.
"Who, he asks! He asks me who." He reared his hand back and slapped me on the cheek, putting behind it all the force his aging body could muster. I held my ground, refusing to give him the satisfaction of watching me lose my stance. "My daughter, my grandson! Dead!"
The slap hadn't caused me to stagger, but those words did. "What?"
"You brought plague into their house! You carried it with you! And now they're dead!"
"What?" was all I could say. Omran grabbed my robes again and punched me on the cheekbone, and I let him. I tumbled into the sand, letting my hands sink below its surface.
From somewhere, I heard Ahraib's voice.
"Omran, stop, stop!" Ahraib grabbed Omran's arm. "Stop this."
"He's killed them!"
"Don't be a fool, brother," Ahraib said, pulling Omran away from me. "You know that anyone, anything could have brought the sickness to them."
"His blood! I'll have his blood for this!" Omran decreed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stumble back out of the arena.
"Kaim," Ahraib said, crumbling next to me in the sand. "I didn't want you to hear of it this way."
A crowd was gathering. I couldn't look up, but I could see their shadows in the midday sun.
"Come, to my quarters. Please, my son," he said.
I didn't respond. I just had to get away from their sympathy. I fled out of the arena and down to the stables. I found a stall, curled up in its empty corner, and allowed myself to do something I had never done before, and thought would never do again.
I cried.
I didn't emerge for hours and hours. And when I did, I stayed away from anyone who would comfort me. I wasn't ready for that, not yet.
Enough, I thought, as I forced my mind back out of the memory. My physical pain is nothing compared to feeling my young heart break all over again. If my first love taught me anything, it's that what a man wants to do and what he needs to do are often drastically different.
And I needed to focus on saving my daughter and Haytham. I pulled myself back into consciousness and braced for the waves and waves of pain.
If I had then known the truth of how my bride and child died, or why the Assassins needed me alive, I might have stayed locked away in my mind forever.
Author's Note:
Not sure if anybody cares, but here's my policy on sex scenes. I don't do them unless I feel that I have to for characterization purposes. And even then, I try to keep them as brief and mild as possible. Why? Well, I know they divide people. Some people are on this site to read nothing BUT sex scenes, while others find them kinda offensive. So if you fall on either side of that fence, I'm sorry, but I felt that all three of the scenes thus far have been important to explaining who Kaim is/was.
My husband is crabbing at me because this chapter is too soap opera-ish. He wants me to write gore again.
Next chapter. I promise. XD