With his cover preserved for the moment, Altaïr passed under the gazes of the guards at the gate, and made his way back out into the groups of people milling around outside Jerusalem itself. Some of them did indeed seem agitated by what had happened, but a great many more of them seemed relieved to know that they would no longer be harmed by those who purported to be in power. Altaïr was glad to see it; to know that he had made a difference in the lives of so many was a good feeling.
It was something he had taught Alnesr to cherish, as well.
Mounting his horse once more, Altaïr made his way away from the walls of Jerusalem and back down the path that would return him to Masyaf. He stopped when he could not avoid it, eating both along the way and when he settled down to allow both the beast and himself to get what rest they needed. When, at least, he came into sight of the great citadel of Masyaf once more, Altaïr sighed slightly, a small smile playing about his lips; it was a pleasant thing, to be home once more after all of his labors.
Leaving his horse in the care of the stable hands once more, Altaïr made his way back up to the citadel, and from there back into the Master's study, where Master Mualim was indeed waiting for him once more.
"Come in, Altaïr," the Master directed, his usual expression of stern kindness settled upon his aged face. "I trust you are well rested? Ready for your remaining trials?"
"I am, but I would speak with you first, Master. I have questions."
Master Mualim clearly disapproved of such a thing, and Altaïr was not one to forget the sight of the Master's blade, but there were still things he needed to know. He would find them out; no matter the cost.
"Ask, then," the Master said, displeased but clearly still willing to cooperate. "I'll do my best to answer."
"The Merchant King of Damascus murdered the nobles who ruled his city," he said, after a deep breath to fortify and steady himself. "Majd Addin in Jerusalem used fear to force his people into submission. I suspect that William meant to murder Richard and Acre with his troops. These men were meant to aid their leaders, and instead they chose to betray. What I do not understand is why."
"Is it not obvious?" the Master asked rhetorically. "The Templars desire control. Each man, as you've noted, wanted to claim the city in the Templar name. So that the Templars themselves might rule the Holy Land; and eventually beyond. But they cannot succeed in their mission."
"Why is that?" he asked, curious to know the source of the Master's confidence.
"Their plans depend upon the Templar Treasure: the Piece of Eden… but we hold it now, and they cannot hope to achieve their goals without it."
Of course, Altaïr mused; such was the item that so many of his targets had referred to.
"What is this treasure?" he asked.
Master Mualim smiled, clearly pleased to hear the question. Moving to the rear of his chamber, the Master bent and opened a chest. Taking a box from inside that chest, the Master returned to his desk and placed the box down upon it. Altaïr realized what it had to be not a second before Master Mualim had done so, but even then he still found his gaze drawn – almost forced – back to the box. It was the same one that Alnesr had been carrying when he and Malik had returned from the Temple Mount, and as before it seemed to radiate a kind of power.
Not so much that he found he could not allow his gaze to leave it, the way that Alnesr had seemed to be affected, but enough so that Altaïr found himself fully aware of just how much of a hold that whatever was inside that box could have on the mind of any who beheld it. The Master's expression was one of indulgence, as though he had seen many people react in such a way to this Templar Treasure of his.
The Master reached into the box, fetching up… a globe: it was the size of two fists held together, golden and with mosaic designs all over the surface. Altaïr did not know what to make of the device; wondering if his senses were deceived in some manner, for he almost felt as though the globe itself were alive, in some fashion. He found himself distracted, however; the globe was pulling at him… he could feel it, though he tried to resist.
"It is… temptation," the Master intoned.
As soon as he became aware of his own reaction to the device, however, the draw that the device had on him was ended. He could still see the mosaic patterns etched into the surface of the device, but they no longer pulsed with light, and the device itself no longer carried the semblance of life that it once had. It was a well-made thing, he could allow, but nothing more than a mere trinket.
"It's just a piece of silver," he said.
"Look at it," the Master insisted, holding the device up for examination.
"It shimmers for the briefest moment, but there's nothing truly spectacular about it," he said, though he had peered closer to satisfy the Master's insistence. "What am I supposed to see?"
"This "piece of silver" cast out Adam and Eve. This is the Apple. It turned staves into snakes. Parted and closed the Red Sea. Eris used it to start the Trojan War. And with it, a poor carpenter turned water into wine."
The Apple of Eden? He looked at the device doubtfully. "It seems rather plain for all the power you claim it has. How does it work?"
"He who holds it commands the hearts and minds of whoever looks upon it; whoever "tastes of it", as they say," the Master said.
"Then, Naplouse's men…" he trailed off, thinking of the poor creatures that he and Alnesr had seen in the hospital that the Templar had presided over.
"An experiment," the Master said. "Herbs used to simulate its effects, to be prepared for when they held it."
He could see now: "Talal supplied them; Tamir equipped them. They were preparing for something. But what?"
"War," the Master said plainly.
"And the others, the men who ruled the cites," he turned his gaze inward, beginning to realize the full extent of the Templars' machinations. "They meant to gather up their people, make them like Naplouse's men."
"The perfect citizens; the perfect soldiers," the Master said. "A perfect world."
"Robert de Sable must never have this back," he said, narrowing his eyes at the device in Master Mualim's right hand.
"So long as he and his brothers live, they will seek it out," Master Mualim said, though he seemed pleased once more.
"Then they must die as well."
"Which is what I have had you doing," the Master said, smiling once more. "There are two more Templars who require your attention: one in Acre, known as Sibrand. The other in Damascus, called Jubair. Visit with the Bureau leaders; they will instruct you further."
