Chapter Eleven
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that Ubisoft has rights to.
A/N: I struggled with this chapter so much, simply because I couldn't get it off the ground at first.
I passed by a blacksmith, working iron into weapons, horseshoes, anything that his forge could craft as the heat from the hot coals warmed me up. The steady rhythm of the hammer on anvil rang out loudly, louder than the heralds that stood on platforms, speaking out to the public. Already, I could hear one belittle Saladin, claiming he is a heretic, a devil amongst those in the Holy Lands, and yet all I hear is blah blah blah. I never really did like the criers, they were all so annoying.
"Be strong, stand firm, do not give up! Without our support, Richard and his men cannot hope to free the Holy Land. We must do all we can to aid them in their cause. Tend to your fields, provide aid to the wounded, and pray for those who sacrificed in service to the Lord. We must all do our part!" I heard, passing by one. The people listening rose up their arms, cheering out with what the herald was saying. By this point, I rolled my eyes, continuing on my way to wherever it was I was going.
Already, I could hear the beggars asking for money, many of them bothering people around me but I ignored them, frustrated with the assassin. "'Make my mission shorter,'" I mimicked, my voice lowering to as deep as I could. "Honestly, what do I look like, an informer?" Speak of the devil; I see one looking all around, as if scared of something. I roll my eyes and continued on my way, ignoring the fact that I have no earthly clue as to where I was going; I was just set on walking.
Many criers, a few beggars, more of Garnier's patients running wild, however, seeing one many holding a skin reminded me that I haven't eaten yet. The man looked tipsy, his face flushed as he sang loudly in the street, something I couldn't quite understand, his accent too thick and his speech too slurred. Drunkards, I never did like them. The poor man, his rags drenched in who knows what, probably weak wine in that skin in his hand and yet, he's singing away loudly, throwing any care he had away, like partials of dust in the wind.
Remembering what I really wanted to do, I looked up ahead, trying to peek over the buildings to see my prize: the tall steeple of the grand church in Acre, the tallest building in the game. My inner fangirl was giggling with every step that I took, begging to climb the tall cathedral, to see everything in the Holy Lands from on top of the church, as far as the eye could see. Inner fangirl rambled on inside my head, even though I should have been paying more attention to the outside world. I heard maybe a few words, but none of it useful as I continued on to the church. I don't know why I agreed to help him on his mission, maybe it's because I wanted to get away from the bureau and the rafik that lives inside it, or because I wanted to help Altair.
Shaking my head, I berated myself. I can't help him out, I'd affect so much then and if I do, then the future would be messed up. I suddenly caught myself in mid-thought. Future? I'm in a popular video game for crying out loud! There isn't really future here, right? Confusion was so thick in my head, almost clouded all of my thought completely, causing me to almost bump into several people, one of them being a guard. Oh, I had to be on my toes when walking around them, anything that might prove to be suspicious and they'd attack like a pack of wild dogs. Already there were civilians being attacked by guards and still life moved on. No doubt Altair would be their savior, ready to defend the people.
The church was so close already and yet, so far; I still had a long way to walk. "Is he there again?"
I heard, but before I could dismiss it as just talk, I heard, "William is always in his citadel, ever since his quarrel with King Richard before his majesty left for Jaffa. He is there now, discussing matters with the king, or so I heard," another voice said. I didn't know where these voices were coming from but I moved close to wherever they sounded close. "He stays there with his men, all loyal to only him."
"I heard there was an attack on him after he arrived in Acre but all those who were opposed were killed." My mind flashed to the gate of William's citadel, it was always open unless there was some sort of quarrel inside the tall walls. "Brutally murdered they were, their arms reaching out from the gates as William's archers picked them off."
I didn't hear much more, all I heard were people screaming about a killing nearby. Altair no doubt. Rolling my eyes, I continued on my way, my inner fangirl leading my feet to the high church. She was pleading the whole time to see it, to climb it, to perform the Leap of Faith off of the steeple. As if I ever would! There were too many risks in climbing that high and only an idiot would climb that high just to jump off. Altair flashed in my head, causing a smile to present itself on my lips. He wasn't an idiot, not by any means, no; he was just one of those people who would do something like that just to get a better view of things at hand.
My stomach roared loudly, my hand going to it to soothe the noise away. I should have eaten that under-ripened fruit Altair had tossed me a day ago but instead, I'm now going hungry. With no money, the pouch filled with the things I looted from the dead men back in Masyaf, I was finding it difficult to pay attention to where I was going exactly. My stomach wasn't really an issue, it was more of the issue of I didn't know where I was going and with how hungry I was, it wasn't a good combination at all.
Sitting on a bench, I sighed as I bit my lip, wanting food in my belly; if not food, then water. A person could live days off of water alone so just a bit would help but just even thinking about drinking the liquid here in this city where the crazies were everywhere, no thank you. What little sun shone through gray clouds hit my face as the people buying at markets spoke loudly, the heralds starting their cries again.
"Be not afraid! Fear and doubt are the weapons of our enemies!" If only you knew, if only you knew. Intimidation was perhaps the most feared weapon of all because even the weakest man could fake strength. "Do not listen to their lies, poisonous would meant to sow the seeds of confusion. If you find yourself tempted, go and pray!" I snorted at this, my hand flying to my mouth as I tried to stifle my giggles, but no such luck. "Ask God for direction!" Oh yeah, like He'll just listen to you when there are millions more seeking His guidance at the same time. "If your heart is pure, He will surely answer."
I couldn't listen to anymore, the whole religious speech was starting to grate on my nerves. I've got nothing against the Christian religion, or any religion for that matter, I just hate it when people go into a religious tangent. Snorting, I rolled my eyes, leaving the bench as I drew closer to the cathedral of Acre. The Holy Lands, what a place to get dropped in: scorching heat, in the middle of a Crusade, little food, little water, my own personal hell. The heat would have been fine to work with, had I had more water and perhaps sunglasses. What I wouldn't GIVE for a pair of sunglasses. With the sun reflecting off of Altair bracer while on the road was just horrible. I never again wanted to see another reflective surface while in the desert again, not while traveling next to Altair.
Something made me stop, like someone stepped on my shadow. I felt this before, always right before the silent woman appeared yet as I looked over to whatever it could have been, all I saw was a little boy child looking up at me with wide gray eyes. We didn't say anything, but as I lowered myself to his level, I could tell that he was different somehow. "Are you lost?" I asked in English, my voice low but friendly as I kept a smile on my face. Reaching my hand out, I inched close to the boy. "Where's your mom, huh?" The little kid said nothing, not moving, not even blinking. I began to worry about the boy's health a little, wondering if he was a homeless orphan or perhaps, he was merely away from his parents. "Come on, I'll take you home," I said, trying to grab a hold of his tiny hand.
What he did though scared me. The little boy was quicker than I was, grabbing my wrist and pulled me in the opposite direction. He was much stronger than any child I had ever met, much stronger than even me, pulling me along side, my back hunched to keep my arm from falling out of socket as my feet tried to keep up with the pace he set us at, running to somewhere quickly, passed more criers, guards, a few Templar knights sprinkled here and there and . Of course, once he stopped, I fell to my knees, my lungs trying to fill themselves with air. "Little man, you have a great grip and all but can I please have my hand back before you pull my wrist out of joint?"
The gray eyed child just looked at me, his grip tightening before he finally let my arm go, or rather, threw my arm down. Hissing with pain, I looked at him, angry that I was hurt but confused by him all the same. Twisting my wrist a few times, I finally looked to see where we were. "It's the cathedral," I whispered, in awe by the sheer size of it. It was much taller in person, one would feel like an ant looking at it head on. The little boy gripped the bottom of my chin, closing my mouth before jerking my head up to see the very top of the steeple. There, like a white vulture, sat a very familiar sight. "Altha-ar?" I meant to say Altair, but with how Mr. Iron Grip had my jaw, squeezing my cheeks, I couldn't properly say the assassin's name.
What happened next, will probably forever haunt me. Altair Jumped.
Pulling my face out of the kid's hand, I looked around for the haystack that I knew was going to be around even though it would probably be a second before a white donned man would fall from the sky. "Side of the church, side of the church, side of the church," I quickly said to myself, running to where I thought I remembered where the haystack was, that is, before a white mass beat me there. Fear froze me, my hands covered the lower half of my face, unable to stifle the gasp that sprang loose. The haystack didn't move. Tears in my eyes, I inched closer to where Altair fell, scared that was I just assumed was true. "Altair?"
Of course, no later had I said that, Altair sprang from the haystack, brushing off straws, scaring and relieving me. "You idiot," I all but yelled at him. "You scared me half to death jumping from that high up! You could have been killed!" Though I was deeply relieved, it didn't stop the tears from flowing from my eyes. Why was I so worked up by this? Wiping the tears from my face, I felt Altair put a hand on my shoulder, a small comfort on his part. I wanted to slap the prick for scaring me but at the same time, all I could do was cry.
He sighed, his hand on the top of my head. "Why are you crying now?"
I slapped his hand away, my anger flaring up again as it quelled my tears. "Because if you die, there's no one here for me then. You're my only connection of getting back home so if you go and off yourself, I'm stuck here!"
The corner of his lips lifted slightly. "Good to know I'm useful for something."
"Shut up."
His eyes lowered under the hood as his jaw clenched. I've learned this about Altair, whenever he finds humor in something, he'll hide his eyes, as if they're so expressive. Though as we walked away from the haystack and away from the church, I couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment. My inner fangirl was highly upset that I didn't climb up that high just to fall down in dead grass, risking breaking my tail bone, a leg, or possibly missing the pile all together and dying.
"Tell me what you've learned," he said, his voice rough, demanding in such a way that sent shivers up my spine.
I blinked and looked at him, or rather, his hood since his steps were longer than mine. "William of Montferrat stays in his citadel with men who are all loyal to him and that no one can get close enough without getting an arrow through their heart."
"Will here be there today?" he asked, my head looking up at him, seeing that he stopped, perhaps to contemplate what was said.
I shrugged. "If he's always there then I suppose that he will be."
He turned to look at me, gold eyes burning. "Show me."
My heart fluttered several times within my chest before I shook my head. "How do you suppose you'll get there? There would be archers everywhere."
Altair nodded, very serious. "I'll take care of them. I've acquired a map that will show where those men will be posted." Pick-pocketed no doubt, that is, unless he went to an informer to gain a bit of information. Still, I rolled my eyes and nodded, following him as his long strides lead us somewhere unknown. I'm pretty sure he knew where he was going but I was still very lost in a large city like this.
"The Saracens are at every turn! We cast them out of Acre and pushed them from the country side, now they retreat to the south, begging Saladin to save them, but he will not succeed, for none can withstand that bite of King Richard's army! He is graced by God, it is only a matter of time, friends, before all the land is ours once more, just as it was meant to be!"
The heralds were crying out again, though Altair seemed keen on listening. "The lion hearted king of England, a strong man devote in his faith, unafraid of anything," I whispered. "He was a good king." I admired Richard, I really did; the man was a very fair and just king with a strong sense of beliefs.
Altair turned his head to look at me. "Do you know him?"
I smiled, looking back at the heralds. "As well as you know Saladin." The assassin's lips lifted ever so slightly as he turned back to the herald. "Trying to get information? Don't waste your time here, there is a herald of William's nearby; I heard him berating his king through William."
"We've turned away from God, as so He punishes us, send hoards of heathen warriors to gather at our gates," the herald began, his voice filling with hate. "But God is also merciful, and our past misdeeds may be forgotten. All we need do is ask, and so I say to you, repent!" I snorted and turned away, pulling at Altair's sleeve. "Lay down before Him and confess your sins. He will forgive, such is His nature, and beg forgiveness we must and only when our hearts and minds are cleansed can victory can be assured."
The afternoon sun burned low, parting through gray skies as much as it could as we traveled to where the herald of William was to be but instead, all that was found was an empty platform. Didn't really surprise me since there were hardly any guards around, however, the initial fear that perhaps I had changed something struck my heart. Was Richard still in Acre or had he already left to go fight Saladin's warriors?
"Night's coming," Altair said, looking up at the sky, the color darkening.
I nodded, looking up as well, seeing that it was indeed getting much darker and that the gray color was dying into the dark colors of the evening. "The rafik doesn't like me," I said out loud. "He probably wouldn't let me in to sleep." He grunted, not really responding. I looked up to the rooftops, spotting a familiar object. "We could turn in for the night."
Altair's eyes followed my own, seeing the rooftops and nodded. The roof gardens, where I first met Altair so many days ago, it seemed like forever. Climbing up to the roof top from boxes, thank goodness for boxes, I crawled in first, holding the fabric back. "I'll take watch," he said, turning away.
My hand reached out and gripped his sleeve. "Altair, you're as human as I am, you need your sell as well. Besides, you do have to assassinate William and you can't do that if you're tired." He didn't look convinced as he pulled his arm away. "Please. Besides, I'll be on my side and you can be on yours." Moments passed, but finally, after some time, Altair finally agree, jumping in as well, his back to a corner, arms crossed. His hood covered his eyes completely, masking and hiding anything that might have proven him awake.
My inner fangirl swooned as I watched the assassin for a few moments before lowering myself to curl up with my back to an opposite wall. Closing my eyes, I heard movement of fabric before the known world became lost in the darkness of sleep.
