Chapter Twenty-Seven:

Full Circle

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Flavia didn't come down for dinner. She was complaining of an upset stomach, so Sofia hastened to finish her meal and excused herself to be by her daughter's side, leaving Marcello and I alone.

Marcello picked at his food. "So… you said you could teach me how to fight?"

"To defend yourself, si."

"When can you teach me?"

I frowned. "There are a few things you should know before you consider training with me. First-off, you must promise that you will not go looking for trouble once you learn what I have to teach. Second, you must use what I teach to help anyone who is in danger. Those are my conditions, and if you promise to do them, then I will gladly teach you." Marcello opened his mouth, but I silenced him by bringing my hand up. "Provided your madre agrees."

"What? But I'm nearly a man! I can make my own decisions!"

I looked at him seriously. "If you are nearly a man, and you think you can make your own decisions, then you should know that it is wise to ask for a woman's permission when you wish to do something time-consuming and potentially dangerous. It's common courtesy."

Marcello frowned, but said nothing. He was pretty obedient for his age, even if he challenged occasionally.

"Tell me more about your sister," I said. "Why did Antonio try to…?"

He made a face. "That cazzo didn't like being rejected. He tried to make puppy-eyes at her first, but when Flavia didn't fall for it, he didn't take it well. Flavia managed to get away from him… after she kicked him where it hurt the most."

I couldn't help but smile. "Sounds like what any Auditore would do in that situation."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"When your aunt was young, she got your father to do her fighting for her, because he was older, and he was a man."

Marcello let one of his eyebrows raise. "How would you know something like that?"

"I'm a friend of your family, remember?"

When he finished his food, Marcello stood and inclined his head. "I'm going to my room. I probably won't see you until tomorrow, so have a good evening." Marcello turned and walked towards the living room, but he paused on the way. "How long are you planning on staying?"

For as long as it takes. "We'll see," I told him.

1217

We were on our way again to Mongolia in the morning. The innkeeper had given us some free food, probably in gratitude for me getting rid of those so-called "soldiers".

"We will probably arrive at the meeting place soon," Altair said to us as we left the inn far behind. "An Assassin by the name of Qulan Gal will meet us."

Qulan Gal, I knew, was an accomplished bowman. I'd heard of his skills, even before we had set off on our long journey. I looked at Darim and smiled. My brother could probably best Qulan, whether it be with a bow or a crossbow.

Darim caught me smiling at him. "What?"

"Just thinking," I said.

"Why is that the only thing you reply with…?"

I shrugged. "Women have their secrets. Find a woman, and you'll see that."

"Yes, well, maybe you should find a man and see what secrets we have. You're not getting any younger, sister."

I chuckled. "That desperate for some nieces and nephews? I thought Sef's children were enough for you."

Darim grinned devilishly. "Then again, it would probably be best if we did not have any more Suna's running around Masyaf. God knows the trouble they will most likely get in, and I'd feel sorry if you were their mother. You'd probably toss them off the cliff!"

"Keep walking that path, and I will throw you from a cliff."

Darim shrugged, as if it couldn't be helped. "Either you or mother."

"I will throw you both from a cliff if you aren't silent!" Maria snapped ahead of us. "Children! I swear!"

Darim and I exchanged knowing and mischievous glances with each other. We loved Maria, but pestering her was our entertainment.

"Ah! Mother!" Darim exclaimed. "Is that grey in your hair?"

"Caused by you, no doubt," she replied icily.

Darim rode up to Maria and started to pick through her hair. Despite Maria's age, she still did not have any grey hairs, but we liked to remind her of how old she was. "Here is one, and another, and another—."

Maria swatted Darim's hand away from her hair. Darim took the hint and forced his horse to a canter, while Maria chased after him, yelling all kinds of things to insult him.

"Speaking of children," Altair said, smiling. "Maria acts just like you two. I swear, at this rate, I'll have two daughters and two sons."

"Don't forget your grandchildren," I added.

Altair nodded. "Yes… It seems so surreal. Wasn't it just yesterday that you were smaller than the horses?"

"No, that was twenty-four years ago."

He smiled. "Ah, yes. I remember the first time you wielded a blade as well."

My eyebrows rose. "You saw that? Weren't you in your study?"

"I was," Altair said. "I rested my eyes from looking at the Apple, and decided to look outside. You were in the courtyard with Rauf, who was teaching you." Altair chuckled. "After your rather… skilled display of how to wield a blade, Rauf came to speak with me, and he suggested that Malik and I take over. He felt that you were ahead of your class in that way."

I tightened my grip on the reigns. Rauf… I hadn't known. He'd never told me the reason why I couldn't practice with the others. I thought it would be something about the way I got along with them, but that didn't explain why I was still allowed my other classes with them and Mohammad…

The thoughts of Mohammad made me tighten my grip even further. He had angered me since I was a child, and now he was tormenting my thoughts from beyond the grave. I remembered when Altair had told Mohammad's parents about what had happened. They refused to believe him, tried to kill me, and left the Order.

Altair seemed to know what I was thinking and patted my shoulder. "Do not worry, Suna. The past is behind us."

I nodded and looked forward. There was a tree in the middle of the plain we were riding through. A man with a short beard and squinting eyes stood by the tree, his expression unreadable. A bow and a quiver full of arrows was slung across his back, and it was evident that he was wearing some animal furs to keep himself warm.

Maria and Darim were already there by the tree, closing their fists across their hearts in greeting. Altair and I dismounted our horses and walked up to him.

Altair was the first to speak. "Qulan Gal?"

The Mongolian nodded. "And you must be Altair Ibn La'Ahad, Grandmaster of the Levantine Assassins."

Altair and Qulan grasped each other's forearms and shook once in greeting. Qulan turned to me and nodded.

"Another of the Ibn La'Ahads?" he asked with a smirk.

"My daughter, Suna," Altair explained.

Qulan smiled. "Has the whole family come?"

"My youngest son and grandchildren remain in Syria."

With a curt nod, Qulan acknowledged it. He cheerfully led us and our horses to the current base of operations for the Mongolian Assassins. I hadn't expected Qulan to be such a cheerful, carefree man. I'd always heard that he was serious and stoic.

"I was expecting an army," he said to Altair after a time, becoming the serious man I'd learned about. "Not four Assassins."

"We are an army," Altair replied. "And anyway, numbers are not always what wins wars. It is strategies as well."

"And Genghis Khan has both." Qulan opened the flap of a tent (I had tried to memorize where the tent was, but I easily got lost because of how many there were at the camp) and led us inside. "We must plan. Genghis Khan's forces draw closer with each passing day, pillaging and leaving destruction in their wake."

Altair placed his hands on a table that had a map of Mongolia and China and studied it. "I think he may have a Piece of Eden," Altair said.

"A what?" Qulan asked.

"They are hard to explain, but I have the Apple here."

Maria looked hard at her husband. "You brought that… thing, here?"

"I did not trust it lying around in Masyaf. Someone could get their hands on it and bring unspeakable horrors upon the Assassins there." Altair searched his pouch and conjured the Apple of Eden, which he held up to show Qulan.

"This is…!" Qulan could not find the words. He hovered around it, and then reached out.

Altair pulled the Apple away. "I have learned something from this; no one without the proper—how do I say this?—proper ancestry may wield it. Around twenty years ago, a man I know, Abbas Sofian, stole the Apple, and it started to drain his life away. Yet, in my hands, it does strange, wondrous, and terrible things." Altair placed the Apple back into his pouch. "That is why I will not use it here, and why we must get that Piece of Eden away from Genghis Khan. I believe the one he wields is in the form of a sword."

Qulan brought his hand back to your side. "Very well. But we must plan carefully. One wrong move could kill us all when it comes to Genghis Khan."

We all nodded solemnly. This would be a war, and nothing less. We had to protect all people from Genghis Khan, no matter the sacrifice.

It was something we all understood.