Author's Note: I finished this Chapter right on time! It has certainly been a difficult one to write - I think I rewrote it a total of three times...maybe four - but I feel pretty good with this final outcome. Also, as a heads-up for you guys, I wrote this a little differently. I had originally added in different conversations (i.e. the talk between Altair and Al Mualim before Altair left for Jerusalem; the exchange between Altair and Malik after the whole "Maria Incident"; and the conversation between Altair and King Richard before the battle with de Sable). However, I found that it took up too much space and that they weren't truly necessary. Therefore, I shortened (and italicized) them and highlighted only certain segments that related to the following incident. ...Whew...ok, now that that's covered, we can continue forward! Enjoy, my dear readers!
Reply to Reviews:
Victory Goddess: When you mentioned that, I actually tried to imagine 'Azab in a ninja's costume XD. It was certainly...interesting.
As always, I appreciate the review, and I hope you enjoy :).
MJluver777: Really? I never considered myself good with tension...well, at least I succeeded :D. Enjoy!
Sassiershinx81: I have returned with the continuation! Hope it lives up to expectations!
ctrlaltdiee: 'Azab lives life on the edge...XD Ok, kidding, kidding. But he certainly is a risk taker at times ^^.
violyss: I seriously appreciate the review :). It's nice to know that I am heading down the right path with this story and that others are enjoying. And it's also good to hear that I am keeping up with the excitement! I never want my readers to become bored with the story I am trying to tell. Again, thank you, and I hope you enjoy! :)
Designation Drift: Hey, I'm still glad you reviewed :). Glad to know you liked it, and yes, I am almost there :D. This story has certainly been one of my most popular. Enjoy!
Suomenlinna: Gah! I totally forgot that Arabic is read differently than English. Silly me... Thank you for bringing my attention to this fact, and I will correct it.
Also, glad you enjoyed, and I hope this one is just as good! Thank you for the review. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed in any form or blade. Only my OCs (Sa'ida, Ghalib, Fahdah, and 'Azab). Credit goes to Seventhfold for assissting me with Sa'ida's name.
Chapter XI:
Siege
"I never knew, I never knew that everything was falling through; That everyone I knew was waiting on a cue, To turn and run when all I needed was the truth." -The Fray, "Over My Head (Cable Car)"
"We are close, Altair. Robert de Sable is now all that stands between us and victory," Al Mualim told him. "His mouth gives the orders. His hand pays the gold. With him dies the knowledge of the Templar treasure and any threat it might pose.
"…Jerusalem is where you faced him first. It's where you'll find him now. Go, Altair - it's time to finish this."
Everything happened so quickly. The scenario changed in a blink of an eye, from beginning as a ceremony to honor the "beloved" Majd Addin to morphing into a frantic scramble. Mourners dispersed in a frenzy, shoving and pushing as they fled from the cemetery. Templar knights advanced towards Altair calmly, swords drawn, as if the people around them did not exist. Two archers - who were stationed on wooden platforms that jutted from the opposing building - poised their bows and nocked their arrows, aiming in Altair's general direction. Even the air around him seemed tense and electrified, signaling the approaching battle.
With a steady inhale of breath, Altair drew his own sword and took his stance. He waited, amber eyes flittering from one Templar to the next, until they finally landed on the form of Robert de Sable.
For some reason, something felt…off to Altair. Yes, this entire ceremony for Majd Addin had been suspicious - and for a good reason, too, since it had been a trap all along - but now, something else bothered him. The doubt he felt in his gut seemed to point towards the Templar Grandmaster, and it had Altair second guessing his knowledge. Was this not de Sable standing before him? He wore the proper attire, he was the same height, he held the sword with usual confidence…what was there to doubt? This had to be the man whom he encountered at Solomon's Temple…right?
Altair's train of thought was cut short as one of de Sable's bodyguards attacked, thrusting his sword forward in a single, quick movement. However, it wasn't quick enough, for Altair parried the attack and danced around him. With an upward stroke, he opened a deep gash in the opposing man's side, sending him stumbling onto all fours. Altair carried on his momentum as he whirled to meet his next opponent. They traded blows, the steel of their swords clashing and ringing through the air, before the point of Altair's sword found a crevice in the Templar's armor and opened a hole in the man's throat. He tumbled, dead before he even hit the ground.
There was little time to cherish the victory, for two more knights charged him, hoping to a gain an advantage in numbers. For a horrific moment or two, the strategy did work in favor of the Templars. Their combined efforts brought a challenge to Altair as he worked to defend himself. Each clash rattled his frame, and each failure in his defense resulted in a new nick or cut across his skin; thus, he was finding it harder and harder to find a break so he could deliver his own attack.
Another strike broke through his defense and collided solidly with the armor covering his torso, sending him stumbling backwards in mild shock. His free hand brushed over the area of impact, but he found nothing other than some slight damage to his armor. His sharp eyes flickered upwards, first landing on the two knights that were coming forward again; then on Robert de Sable who lingered behind safely with his second bodyguard; and finally, on the archers positioned high above. They had yet to fire a single arrow - probably out of fear of hitting one of their own - but that fact appeared to be changing, for they drew their arrows taunt and aimed at him.
And that's when the idea struck him. He focused his amber gaze once more on the Templars before him, his mind picturing the archers in their firing state.
It was a tense two seconds, but Altair timed it perfectly. In a single, blurred movement, he sheathed his sword and rolled forward. His attackers were taken aback for a split second - and, ironically, that was all the time they had left. The archers had released their projectiles, one arrow striking the ground where Altair once stood, and the other - fired by the archer who faltered after Altair's changed course of action - finding its mark in the neck of a Templar knight.
Meanwhile, Altair had sprung from his crouched position, his right hand wrapping around his body and unsheathing his short sword. By the time the second knight had comprehended what just happened, Altair's sword entered his body below his chest cavity and tore upwards, ending his life. Altair did not waste time in retrieving his weapon, and instead opted for his broadsword once again. One knight stood between him and de Sable; and, unfortunately for him, Altair's fierce determination cut him down in just a few strokes.
It was time. Robert stood before him, sword raised and eyes glaring at him through the helmet's eye openings. Altair's own eyes darted skyward, watching as the archers readied more arrows and targeted him. They were Robert's advantage - and that was something Altair intended to change.
As another set of arrows were released, Altair shot forward. De Sable tensed, fully prepared for the Master Assassin to strike; however, Altair caught him by surprise. Instead of attacking, he danced around him, putting the Templar Grandmaster between himself and the archers' arrows. Now his back was to the stonework building and de Sable was before him. No more archers, no more knights or bodyguards - just them, their swords, and their skills.
The battle was fast and grueling. Clangs and grunts of effort emitted from the dueling pair. Their swords moved at a blurred pace, and their swings, strikes, and thrusts were furious but controlled. And, despite the consequences if he lost this match, Altair felt an unexplainable thrill fill him. The lightening-quick speed they moved at, the clashes of their weapons, the drumming of his heart - it seemed almost surreal, yet strangely exciting.
However, his muscles began to tire, and his movements became more exerting. It was time for this duel to end - it was time to end de Sable once and for all.
Altair parried another strike, then countered with a downward swipe. De Sable raised his sword above his head in order to block the attack; but, in doing so, he left an opening. Altair sent a harsh kick to the opposing man's abdomen, sending him reeling and leaving him defenseless. With a snick, Altair unsheathed the hidden blade and met de Sable's gaze as the man lifted his head up.
Suddenly, Altair felt like someone had slapped in the face. Those eyes…they were not the same. In color, in fortitude…nothing; and Altair would know, too, for he had encountered de Sable firsthand and up-close before. His mind traveled back to his time in Solomon's Temple: when he had charged the Templar Grandmaster, only to be seized by the throat and rendered helpless. He had met the man's gaze evenly; and this man before him right now did not hold the same cold and hard stare.
So, it was by this realization that Altair altered his strategy again. He would not kill him - not yet, anyhow. First, he would find his answers.
He pounced before the imposter could recover and sank his blade into his shoulder, burying it deep as they collapsed onto the ground.
-o-
Altair removed his now bloodied blade from the man's shoulder, but remained crouched over him. Then, he moved his hands forward and placed them on each side of the helmet.
"I would see your eyes before you die," Altair claimed and pulled the helmet off the imposter's head. However, what he saw shocked him and he let the helmet slide from his fingertips and crash onto the ground.
Before him was a woman - an Englishwoman. Her hair was tucked away under the chain mail coif. Her eyes shone with a spitfire characteristic and her features were set in a determined and knowing look. She showed no fear of the assassin who currently had her pinned uselessly to the ground; and it was because of this fact that Altair held admiration towards her. For her bravery, as well as her skill with a blade.
"I sense you expected someone else," she remarked absently, dragging him back to the present situation. Pushing aside his wondering thoughts, her curled his fingers around the collar of her uniform, lifting her upper body off the ground by an inch or two.
"What sorcery is this?" he demanded.
She shook her head, unaffected. "No sorcery. We knew you'd come. Robert needed to be sure he'd have time to get away."
"So he flees?" That does not sound like something Robert would willingly do.
"We cannot deny your success. You have laid waste to our plans. First the treasure, then our men. Control of the Holy Land slipped away," she admitted, a slight frown tugging at the corners of her lips. "But then he saw an opportunity. To reclaim what has been stolen - to turn your victories to our advantage."
Altair stared at her a moment, thinking, before retorting boldly: "Al Mualim still holds your treasure, and we've routed your army before. Whatever Robert plans, he'll fail again."
"Ah," she drawled, amused. "But it's not just Templars you'll contend with now."
What does she mean? "Speak sense," he pressed, lifting her higher off the ground.
"Robert rides for Arsuf to plead his case: that Saracen and Crusader unite against the Assassins."
The reveal made Altair falter. "That will never happen. They have no reason to."
At this point, a conniving glint lit her eyes. It was something that both intrigued and infuriated Altair. "Had, perhaps…but now you've given them one. Nine, in fact. The bodies you've left behind - victims on both sides. You've made the Assassins an enemy in common and ensured the annihilation of your entire Order. Well done."
The truth behind her words made Altair bristle, but he quickly shook it off before it became evident. None too gracefully, he released his hold on her uniform and stood, stepping away from her in a defiant gesture. "Not nine. Eight."
"What do you mean?" she asked as she regained her feet, sounding genuinely surprised.
"You were not my target. I will not take your life." He gestured towards the city of Jerusalem. "You're free to go, but do not follow me."
"I don't need to," she bit back. "You're already too late."
"We'll see."
-o-
"…When I'm done with Robert I will ride for Masyaf, that we may have answers. But perhaps you could go?" Altair's hopes slowly rose…
"I cannot leave the city," Malik replied, and Altair's hopes fell flat. He thought for a long moment before meeting his friend's gaze.
"Then walk amongst its people. Seek out those who served the ones I slew. Learn what you can. You call yourself perceptive - perhaps you'll see something I could not."
There was a pause. "I don't know…I must think on this."
"Really, 'Azab, you must want something."
"Me? Want something?" A bark of laughter escaped his lips. "Now what would lead you to believe that?"
She hummed. "Well for one, you escorted me back to the middle district and then proceeded to invite me into your home. You also seem a bit flustered…"
"Why, I was simply trying to do a kind deed. Apparently my efforts are not appreciated."
With a roll of her eyes, Sa'ida took a seat at the table, folding her hands in her lap. She watched as 'Azab closed the door nonchalantly and as he began to unfastened the pouch that hung from his hip. When he finally succeeded, he returned his attention to her. "And flustered? I highly disagree with that. Merchants are skilled at keeping a level head."
"Very well…" Sa'ida said slowly. "Then perhaps the word I am looking for is distant."
'Azab cocked an eyebrow. "'Distant'?" She nodded, and he shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe a little, I will admit. Much has happened in such little time." He ran his thumb along the edge of the table, feeling its roughness. "But you have endured difficult times lately, too, Sa'ida. How are you fairing?"
Sa'ida stared at the spot where 'Azab had just ran his thumb over, thinking. Now that 'Azab had brought it up, her life had certainly taken a strange path; and just over the past two or three months. She has met new and…interesting…people; she has lost a friend; she and 'Azab have grown closer as friends; and her father's health had been improving tremendously. However, she had never stopped to consider how much she was effected by the changes. They had come and gone, bringing both pain and happiness, and she had never truly dwelled upon them.
"I have had my share of ups and downs. Life in Damascus has changed in the past few months; but I believe it to be a good change," she supplied, meeting 'Azab's gaze evenly. "Wouldn't you agree?"
A slight frown twisted 'Azab's features and he again ran a thumb along the edge of the table. "In some ways, Sa'ida…I cannot."
She blinked in obvious surprise. That was…unexpected. "How so?"
"…Have I ever told you why I came to Damascus?"
Again, Sa'ida was taken by surprise. What did that have to do with anything? "You have mentioned a few times that you came here to start anew. Otherwise, I know nothing more." She shifted in her seat, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table. She asked softly, "Is that what has been bothering you, 'Azab? Something from the past?"
'Azab chuckled half-heartedly. "I suppose the saying rings true: 'Your past comes back to haunt you.'" He sighed. "But, yes, it does have something to do with the matter."
She studied him for a moment, considering upon how to proceed. She hated to press 'Azab for answers if he was not willing to supply them. It may be something he would have to fight out on his own. But…it wouldn't hurt to ask, or to offer some form of encouragement. Anything other than turning away.
"You know, 'Azab, I am willing to listen if you wish to share the issue with me," Sa'ida said, her voice still low and cautious.
There was a long pause between them. Unsteady and beyond Sa'ida's comfort. She could tell that 'Azab was fighting an internal war with himself just by the uneasy expression on his face, and it made her wonder what could possibly be running through his mind. Was it truly that bad? That dark?
Sa'ida opened her mouth to add something else, but 'Azab spoke first. "I believe it is time I told you-"
He was cut short by a sharp, rapping noise from the door. Sa'ida bit her lower lip and leaned back in her seat, returning her hands to her lap. She watched silently as 'Azab rose and strode away to answer aforementioned door. A couple of minutes passed and she could clearly hear a conversation being spoken; however, she could not discern what was being said. Again, her curiosity was piqued and she felt the urge to go after 'Azab, but she held back. It was none of her business, she was sure. Why else would they be speaking so lowly?
Finally, the sound of the door closing reached Sa'ida's ears, and she perked up when 'Azab returned. He now wore a concerned and genuinely confused expression, and he ran a hand through his short hair.
"Is everything alright?" Sa'ida ventured, tilting her head slightly and raising her eyebrows in worry. 'Azab must have forgotten about her presence, for he jumped, startled, and glanced over at Sa'ida with bewilderment in his eyes. However, it quickly passed and he waved a hand to push aside the question.
"Of course, my girl, of course." Then, after a pause, "However, I am afraid that we will have to continue this conversation on another occasion. It appears an issue has arose concerning my stall within the souk, and it must be dealt with immediately." He proffered his hand, and Sa'ida took it so he could assist her to her feet.
It was all very strange to Sa'ida. First, the way 'Azab had behaved since he had escorted her home; then how he seemed to be withholding some secret; and now this…"issue" concerning his stand.
Nevertheless, she refused to share her concerns, and instead offered an apologetic smile. "I understand. Perhaps another time. I wish you the best of luck, 'Azab."
"I appreciate it, Sa'ida. God knows I will need it."
"It's not you I've come to kill. It's him." Altair knew that he was treading dangerous ground. He knew that one slip-up could cost him everything - cost the Brotherhood everything they fought for.
The Lionheart looked upon him with scrutiny. Then, he motioned for his men to part and for Altair to come forward. "Speak, then, that I may judge the truth. Who is this traitor."
Altair's steps were quick and light, and he soon found himself standing for King Richard, encircled by his men. "Robert de Sable," he answered, garnering a shocked look from the Crusader.
"My lieutenant?"
"He aims to betray," Altair confirmed.
"…Is this true?" It was at this time that the Lionheart turned to one of his men. The knight raised his hands, placed them on either side of his head, and removed his helmet. It was him: Robert de Sable. This time it really was him and not some imposter. It was the same man Altair remembered from the Temple. The same man who had to die…
The time had come. Altair had been given the chance to prove himself; to prove to King Richard that Robert was not the man he thought he knew. To, as the Lionheart had said, "Let this be decided by combat. Surely God will side with the one whose cause is righteous." Altair may not have been a man of God, but he found himself hoping that his actions were justified: whether by an omniscient power or King Richard himself.
"So," Robert drawled as he strode forward, confidence marking each step. His broadsword was clasped tightly in his right hand and it swayed slightly with his gait, "we face each other once more. Let us hope you prove more of a challenge this time."
"I am not the man you faced inside the Temple," Altair retorted calmly as he unsheathed his sword.
De Sable made a humming sound in the back of his throat. "You look the same to me."
"Appearances can deceive."
"True, true." De Sable raised his sword and Altair mirrored the action. Although he would never admit to it, Altair felt tense. In Jerusalem, he had been prepared for a battle with the Templar Grandmaster; however, he had been fooled into fighting an imposter - a woman imposter, no less. But now, here he was, face-to-face with his greatest enemy, and he felt unprepared. Exposed. Trapped. It truly was a terrible feeling.
Without warning, Robert advanced upon him, his sword making sharp contact with Altair's. "Soon this will be over and Masyaf will fall," the Templar spat, blocking a thrust from Altair and countering with a sideswipe.
A jolt shot through Altair as their steel crashed again. "My brothers are stronger than you think," he gritted out.
"We'll know the truth soon enough." A devious light glinted in de Sable's eyes as he increased the rapidity and strength in his blows. However, Altair was just as fast and skilled. True, his body felt weary from his fight in Jerusalem and from the hard ride he had to endure to reach Arsuf in time; but he still fought with fiery determination. He varied his strikes and tactics; danced away from de Sable's blade; parried and blocked the oncoming attacks; landed harsh blows of his own upon the enemy before him. It was enough to gain recognition from the Templar Grandmaster.
"Oh…so the child has learned to use a blade," de Sable commented, taking a step back and recalculating his strategy.
"I've had a lot of practice," Altair reminded him. "Your men saw to that."
"They were sacrificed in service to a higher cause."
"As will you be."
This seemed to trigger something within de Sable, for he bellowed in rage, "The time for games is ended!" Now he surged forward. Altair dodged to the best of his ability, but the blade cut across his upper arm, opening a gash in his sleeve and in the skin beneath it. Altair fought the urge to stumble backwards; fought the pain and the sensation of warm blood trailing down his arm. No, instead, he blocked the next attack then swept his own sword down low, creating a ghastly wound in de Sable's left thigh.
"It ended long ago," Altair declared, this time coming after de Sable's right side and successfully opening a wound in his torso.
The Templar Grandmaster faltered. "I do not know where your strength comes from…" he managed, although raggedly. "Some trick? Or is it drugs?"
"It is as your king said: righteousness will always triumph over greed." Altair noticed that de Sable had a weak defense now due to his newest injury. The end was nearing quickly, and they both were starting to realize that. However, the Templar Grandmaster refused to believe that he had been bested.
"My cause is righteous!" de Sable roared. He tried - oh so desperately he tried - to strike down Altair, but it was a foolish and feeble attempt. Actually, it only seemed to seal the man's fate; for as the Templar knight shot towards him, Altair drove the sword straight through his tunic, armor, and chest.
It was over.
-o-
When Robert de Sable's body fell to the ground, Altair slowly and carefully removed the blade. It made a sickening noise, even to Altair's ears, but he pushed the fact aside and instead knelt beside the Templar Grandmaster.
"It's done, then. Your schemes - like you - are put to rest," Altair murmured. It was so…strange. He had been searching for this man for the past few months; now, he lay dying at his feet. It was as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
De Sable chuckled. "You know nothing of schemes. You're but a puppet. He betrayed you, boy - just as he betrayed me."
"Speak sense, Templar, or not at all," Altair bit out, his voice hoarse for some unknown reason.
The aforementioned Templar took a breath, slow and shaky. "Nine men he sent you to kill, yes? The nine who guarded the treasure's secret…"
"What of it?"
"It wasn't nine who found the treasure, Assassin," de Sable rasped, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips lazily. "Not nine, but ten."
"A tenth?" Altair hated how alarmed he sounded, especially in front of his enemy. "None may live who carry the secret. Give me his name."
"Oh…" he drawled, "but you know him well; and I doubt very much you'd take his life as willingly as you've taken mine."
"Who?" Altair demanded again.
"It is your Master. Al Mualim."
Silence. It was as if the world had gone still, just for that very moment. The pain swelled in Altair's arm and he just began to notice the headache that was throbbing in the back of his head. Everything he knew, everything he stood for…it evaporated before his very eyes. Lies.
"But he is not a Templar," Altair retorted. Now he sounded desperate; another emotion he did not want to reveal.
There was a flash of pity in de Sable's dark eyes. "Did you never wonder how it is he knew so much? Where to find us? How many we numbered? What we aspire to attain?"
No, but… "He is the Master of the Assassins." Even though he fought to put truth and confidence behind his words, he found himself doubting them rather than believing in them. They felt…empty. Useless.
"Oui: Master of Lies," de Sable corrected, his smile growing. "You and I just two more pawns in his grand game. And now…with my death, only you remain. Do you think he'll let you live - knowing what you do?"
Altair shook his head fervently. "I've no interest in the treasure."
"Ah, but he does. The only difference between your Master and I is that he did not want to share."
"No…" Again, the world seemed to stop, distorting reality and making Altair's head pound in intolerable pain.
"Ironic isn't it?" de Sable asked. His breaths were becoming shallower. "That I - your greatest enemy - kept you safe from harm. But now you've taken my life - and in the process, ended your own."
With that, he died, the blood loss becoming too great. An overpowering numbness spread throughout Altair's body as he closed de Sable's eyes.
"We do not always find the things we seek," he said quietly, knowing all too well the truth to those words.
All this time…after the death of nine men…Altair finally found the truth he had so desperately longed. However, he didn't feel any sense of accomplishment; rather, he wished he had never been told. Better yet, he wished that this was really a nightmare so he could simply wake up.
Because now, he had to face his real enemy. He had to finish what he started. He had to kill Al Mualim.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed, and please R&R to let me know what you think!
Until next time...