The Story of a Rafiq

Chapter 35

Note: It seems there was a slight misunderstanding in the previous chapter. For those who did not catch it: No, Malik is not dead. He is simply very weak to the point where he thinks he is on his last strands of life. I hope this clears up any misunderstandings :(

Altair moved swiftly through the castle underground, following the path, and the occational knocked out guard, that Majid and Tazim had left behind. It was easily, with the help of Rauf, to leave the gates unnoticed and unharmed, and since there were hardly any people on the streets it was easy to get to the hideout that Rauf led them to.

He laid Malik on a table, the doctor rushing into the room and tsking, muttering something incoherent under his breath, and setting out to stitch his wounds, bandage him up, and clean him as best as he could. Surprisingly the only broken thing the Ex-Rafiq had was a rib, but he said that it was just a crack that would heal over time. Overall, the man was simply broken, dehydrated, and in need of a meal, all that would have to wait until he woke up.

Altair did not leave his side, other than the first hour of them being there, showing the men that showed up that he was who he claimed to be, and confirming the claim that they were going to strike the traitors down for what they've done. Tazim was glad that he was reunited with his partner, and Amro was happy to have both his best friend and his father back. The three of them stuck close together, while Majid and Rauf stuck to the side, answering any and all questions that they could while Malik was looked after.

It was the second day since they rescued Malik, who had only woken once to sip at water, and eat two spoonfuls of broth before he promptly passed out once again. Altair had his head in his lap, caressing his hair out of his face, frowning down at him as he sweat, his forehead hot to the touch. He reached to the side, taking a wet cloth from a bowl, wringing it out, and pressing it to his face, dabbing it against his skin in an attempt to cool him down.

"Altair..." Malik's voice was distant and weak, his eyes slowly opening as he looked up at the assassin above him."I am sorry... For everything. Your faith in me was misplaced..."

"My faith was not misplaced," Altair argued, running a hand through his love's hair, once again, "You are a great man, whom I will again and again put my faith in. No one man can fight against an army of assassins, Malik. Do not be so hard on yourself."

Malik nodded slightly, wincing as he tried to sit up, the assassin helping him, and turning so his legs were on each of his sides, "Here," he whispered, scooting forward so the smaller man leaned back against his chest. "Would you like some water?"

"Not right this second," he shook his head, letting out a sigh as he leaned his head back against his shoulder, "Is Abbas dead?"

"So eager," he half-joked, wrapping his arms delicately around his middle, "He is away for now. When he returns we will strike, but for now we are just trying to infiltrate the fortress and gain more support."

"I would like to question him before he is killed..." his eyes were hard with anger, even though his expression was so weak. Altair gave a curt nod before he reached for his wet cloth, and dabbed his head with it.

"Your fever went down significantly," he stated, feeling his cheek with his palm.

"You should have just left me and went after the imbecile while he was away from the castle," he growled in response.

"What happened to planning?" Altair scolded, the Ex-Rafiq looking off to the side annoyed, "I understand your frustration Mal, but in reality the men love you. If you were not here there would be a spark missing. I know they wouldn't feel right without you, and most certainly I know I wouldn't feel right."

Malik was silent. He knew Altair was right, but he was mad. He felt he had every right to be. He was left alone for all that time only to be taken advantage of by someone that he did not think had any power. How did he do it? Every man that turned against him, why did they all do it? He looked up at the door that opened, and smiled lightly as his adoptive son walked in. The teen walked over, and sat on the floor next to them, looking down at him.

"How do you feel, Baba?"

"More tired than I really care to admit," he chuckled, moving from Altair's arms to sit up. "Darim is alright?"

"Yes. We did as you ordered and stayed in Acre. That's where we met with Master Altair."

"Something is troubling you, what is it?" he frowned, seeing the hurt in the boy he raised's eyes.

"Amro... He's..." his nose scrunched up slightly in a grimace "He's getting married."

Malik frowned at this. Tazim's reaction was that of someone who's heart was pained because of this news. He looked to Altair, who shared the same sad look as Malik wore, then looked back to him, "I am sorry."

"I'm suppose to be happy for him, but all I can do is stay silent. I cannot congratulate him, I cannot even bare to look at him. Growing up with such an understanding with how love can work... I never expected to ever find it, but... I did. And when I did, I thought I'd end up like you two, like Majid and Tamir were..." he shook his head, "I apologize, I shouldn't be saying any of this, you need to rest Baba..."

"Tazim," Malik reached his arm out and took the teenager's hand, "I know it is difficult. I know you do not want to have to deal with any of this... But it does happen. When we fall in love with someone, it doesn't always fall into place like a story. Majid and Tamir were lucky to have found each other, and Altair and I as well. No, our relationships were never perfect, we did have our struggles, but someday, you too will find someone to love like this. Sometimes it just takes time."

"Altair sir," a novice rushed into the room, "Scouts reported that Abbas has turned around. He is fully informed that you are back sir, and that Masters Majid and Malik escaped."

"How far are they?"

"About four days ride, sir."

"That gives us enough time to prepare an ambush..." he pressed his fingers to his chin as he thought, "Alert the others, tell them to make ready. We do not know what will happen, but we will not be caught off guard."

The novice nodded and rushed out of the room, Tazim standing and clenching his fists, "Altair sir, I would like to be in the first attack against him."

"What is your motive?" Malik snapped, narrowing his eyes upward towards the teen.

"To be honest, revenge. He kidnapped you and Majid, Father. He betrayed Master Altair."

"More of a reason for you to be in the back," Malik turned his head away, Altair grimly smiling before nodding his head.

"As long as you fight with your head and not your anger."

"Altair-!"

"He has a right to do what he wants. He is an adult Malik, and no matter how much it pains you to watch your son head to a fight, but he needs this."

Malik lowered his head, knowing that Altair was right. He was still weak, disoriented, and just the idea of Tazim not coming back hurt him. He nodded his head, the older Master waving his hand to the teen who walked over and put his hand to Malik's shoulder, "I promise I will be careful, Baba."

The Ex-Rafiq nodded, and watched as the boy left the room, "It will also get his mind off of Amro," Altair stated, placing a bowl of broth in Malik's lap and scooting behind him, his legs on both his sides, "You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Malik..." he pulled him to lay against him again, and picked up the spoon, bringing the broth to his lips, "Please?" He scowled, and reluctantly complied as he leaned his head forward, taking the spoon in his mouth. As soon as the substance hit his stomach, it lurched with hunger, growling as if to tell him to keep eating. This made the assassin chuckle, the other glaring at nothing in particular, but taking the spoon and eating the meal. He ate every bite, before slumping against the other, groaning as he set the bowl to the side.

"Feel better?"

"I feel I ate too much."

"Least you ate," he grinned, keeping his arms around him. He did not reply, staying silent, his breathing starting to slow into a softer rhythm. "Are you falling asleep?" he moved his head so that he looked at him and grinned as he looked at the sleeping man in his arms. He carefully laid him down, and let out a sigh as he stood up.

Abbas was going to be here, it was just a matter of time. But where did they want to stage the attack? Not in the city, they did not want to get the citizens wrapped up in another fight, but where? He stepped outside of the room and looked at all the men in the larger living area of the room. Did they all have the same reason to fight as them? Probably not. But did Altair trust that each and every one was going to be fighting at his side? Yes.

"Altair," he looked to the side, nodding at Rauf, who had his hood down for the first time (least that he had seen) since they were novices. "Majid has crafted a plan to corner Abbas. It is simple, but I believe it will work."

It was the day that Abbas and his company were due to arrive. The assassins took to hiding in the woods, concealed by the trees from the trail they stood by It had been hours, but no one moved an inch, their eyes focused on the path, awaiting for the men to show up. Altair stood next to Tazim, a compromise he had to make to Malik in order to allow the teenager to go, his eyes trained down the road.

"Master Altair," he looked to Tazim, then down the opposite side of the road at a limping scout they had set up in Masyaf.

Altair moved swiftly to the road, catching the man before he fell, an arrow wound deep in his thigh, his side drenched in blood from a stab wound, "Abbas Sofian and his men are at the castle sir, the men there are fighting, they somehow knew... They took another route..." he cringed as he struggled to stay alive, but soon failed, his head going limp.

"Safety and peace, brother," he whispered, and stood upright, "Brothers! To Masyaf! We have been betrayed, we lead an attack on the traitors!" he called out, his eyes fixed on Tazim and Majid who moved to his side as the others ran to breach the city. Two other assassin's stayed behind, taking the body of the scout, no doubt to hide it until it could be properly taken care of.

"I think I know who the traitor is," Majid whispered, once the two were out of ear shot.

"As do I."

"Who?" Tazim questioned, Majid's jaw tightening as he looked away.

"It is either Amro, or his father..." Altair stated softly, the teen's eyes widening slightly.

"It couldn't be Amro. Never, he'd never-"

"When you were hiding in Acre, he gave away your location to Abbas. It was sheer luck that Altair had shown up the day he did," Majid explained, rubbing the back of his head, "If he hadn't the brothers on Abbas' side no doubt would have hunted you and Darim."

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"It was a rumor," Altair stated, "And seeing as he was your partner I was giving him the benefit of the doubt. His father, however, when he was overseas with me was very shady. I made it so none of the assassin's could write out to anyone, stating it was more of a risk of the Templar guards finding us, but more so because I did not trust Hani and feared he would betray us."

"And how do you have proof?" Tazim was trying to find a way to bail his partner and his partner's father out of being accused of something so horrible.

"When Hani and Amro left earlier this morning before we set out for the ambush, we had a scout follow them. They stayed in a resting location a few miles north from here. Another scout, one we recognized to be one of Abbas' men, came and swapped words and information with him, then returned home. Shortly before we were alerted of Abbas in Masyaf I noticed them slipping away."

"Let the boy see for himself, Altair," Majid placed a hand on the younger master assassin's shoulder, "We need to go to Masyaf ourselves. We cannot delay any longer."

"I do not believe Amro would do such a thing," Tazim whispered, following the two, his head lowered as they jogged forward, heading back to the city, and breaking out into a run when they saw the smoke coming from it.

The battle the three assassins approached, were something they never wanted to see. Brother against brother, all wearing the garbs of an assassin. The only way to tell one from the other were the expressions on their face. The anger and fear on their faces, the hatred and sorrow, it all helped weave the map of who was friend and who was foe.

"Altair!" a bloodied assassin rushed forward, his hand on his arm, "Abbas has fleed to the fortress."

"Thank you."

Without another word, he and Tazim raced to the side, taking to the cliffs as they climbed over them. No doubt they would run into more brothers here. They expected it. As the traitors stood at the top of the cliffs, they did not expect them to be there so quickly. Tazim and Altair reached out, taking their robes and throwing them behind them, climbing up and bracing for a fight. But there were no other guards. Were all his men down in the city?

"I've been expecting you." The two looked towards a flower bush that Abbas Sofian stood next to. He plucked one of the white flowers from it's stem and looked at it before letting it flutter down to the ground. "Tell me, Altair. How is Maria?" he knew the man was taunting him about his fallen wife, and did not say anything. "Come now, Altair. You must be hurt knowing that she betrayed you."

"She had her own life, and I have mine," he growled in return.

"It did not come to you as a shock then?"

"Nothing shocks me anymore, Abbas. The cruelty of others, your betrayal, hers... It's how some people react, and in turn lose the precious gift of life for their punishment."

The man clenched his jaw, walking over to a stone bench, and sitting on it, putting his hand on a brown sack that was dripping blood. "Let me tell you a story."

"I do not have time for your mind games," Altair stepped forward, baring his teeth in both anger and annoyance.

"You intend to kill me. Do you not want to hear my last words, as you do your other targets?"

"Then speak quickly."

"It was not Maria who was working for the Templar army, but I." Tazim made a soft sound of disgust, but stayed put as he glared at the other. "They seek the same as us, brother. They seek peace, though their way of gaining it is a bit distorted, they seek the same as us. They showed me their plans, they mapped out the future and what would happen. The weak would be taken care of, the traitors put to death, all who love in the world would be left to live out their lives peacefully. But, as soon as I decided to join their side that wench found me out. She left a note with Malik, knowing she would not return, and followed me to kill me. Unfortunately for her, I had the upper hand.

"I waited till she caught up with me, and when she least expected it I snuffed out her life like a candle. You see, if she killed me, then I could not relay information to the Templar army about you, I could not tell them of the man who held on to the Apple. I could never sit here, knowing the pain you are about to feel, I could never sit here and wait for death patiently while I know that the assassin's are fighting each other, unknowing of the Templar army that waits to strike."

Altair's eyes hardened, "You murdered my wife, you betrayed your brothers, you have led us all to death. What part of any of this ends in peace? More death means more pain, more pain leads to more revenge. More revenge leads to more wars. How will this plan ever end in peace?!" he yelled out, flicking out his hidden blade and glaring at him, the younger assassin taking a step back and rushing to the cliff, looking out at the cluster of white, squirming and moving in the distance.

"Master Altair! The Templars!" he pointed out, the older man growling in anger.

"Now, for the final pivot point in the plot. The thing that you will indeed kill me for," he stood, taking the bloodied sack by it's top, then tipping it over, a head falling out. "The head of Malik Al-Sayf."

Altair did not even look at the man's face. Enraged, he stepped forward, thrusting his blade into the traitor's throat, listening the the gurgle of blood that escaped his lips. He smiled, his teeth coated in blood as his eyes rolled back, his body falling limp to the floor.

Tazim was the first to rush to the head, turning it over and falling back on his rear-end, his brows furrowed. It was not Malik. He glanced up at Altair, who looked down slowly. "It is Hani, sir," he whispered. Of course. Malik wasn't dead, even if he was weak at the moment he would not be so easily killed. He would have fought back. "It is bad, I am relieved."

"As am I. We need to go to our brothers, we need to stop this fight." He walked to the cliff once again, aiming before leaping forward, landing in a pile of well-placed hay and stepping out. He waited a moment, the boy landing now, and looking to him as he dusted the hay off of him.

With Abbas dead, would the brothers stop fighting? He only hoped so...

Note:

I apologize for the delay of this chapter, I've been very preoccupied with life, and trying to get everything done x.x; I hope you forgive me, especially with the death of this man!

Review Responses

Midnightxwolfx: D: I'm sorry, please don't hurt me ;~;

eliina: Malik will always be okay, especially with me writing about him xD. I hope Abbas' death makes you happy :)

Guest who was too lazy to log in at work xD: He did, he did~ Don't worry, Malik won't die -pats back-

HoneyBee: I'm glad the last chapter made you happy :) I hope this one did as well!