Captain: No, it's not an April Fool's joke, I actually updated! How's the new year been treating all of ya? Hopefully well! I myself have finally gotten off my lazy bum and started going to a gym. Actually more fun than I thought it would be! Work has been an adventure as usual and here in the next month we should start getting some baby bighorns, woo! Cute little buggers, lemme tell ya, but the boss hired some extra peeps to handle the midnight feeds /thankgod. Got a good tax return soooooo guess who's getting Lasik?! That's right, meeeeee! I'm so excited to actually be able to see without glasses/contacts, will sure make my chosen career path easier once I start getting into field work! The surgery is in just two weeks and I've been warned that I'll need to drastically limit my screen time while my eyes are healing so boo on that, won't be able to write for a bit (or read /cries).
Anyway, a huge thank you to all of you who stick with this story despite the waits for updates. You make it all worthwhile 3 This chap is a long one, but one I think you've been waiting for. Masyaaaaaaf!
Enjoy!
They could not return to the road just yet, not with the raiders still so close, yet neither could they lie low and wait between it and the destroyed village. So they were forced to go further from Masyaf, trekking around the village to avoid leaving a trail that could be followed. Altair kept the horse to rockier paths, avoiding the sand and any hills that might bring them too high. They both remained quiet, ears straining for any sound of horses or men that may be just out of view. Time passed achingly slow in that manner, and still they pressed on. Aimless in their wandering, waiting for the raiders to hopefully move far away. The only way to know for sure when they had gone would be to turn back to the road, but Altair was not willing to risk it just yet. Not until it was nearing dusk did he dare turn the horse back on the path to Masyaf. Emma had no idea how he knew which was the right way anymore, but she was only half relieved that they had come across no one in their wanderings.
The closer they moved to the road, the stiffer Altair became. Emma could see it in his shoulders, feel it in the nervous prancing the horse was doing in response.
"Surely they've moved on by now. Would they really sit around all day on the off chance someone might wander through?" She asked quietly, breaking the suffocating tension. His stiff posture was making her nervous, which only made her agitated. This much caution had to be overkill. Right?
"If they had any inclination an Assassin was around, they would remain for days on the off chance of catching him. I have seen them pass on a rich caravan to give chase to a lone Brother." Alright, perhaps it wasn't overkill.
Emma didn't say a word after that, focusing her energy on scanning the hills and crevices for any sign of life. Any sign that they were being watched. Her Sense was quiet, indicated nothing, but she wasn't willing to trust it implicitly. Not out here.
As if he'd planned it that way, it was full dark by the time the horse's hooves struck the road again. A New Moon hung dark and obscured, granting not even the illusion of light. An army could be a hundred yards away and no one would ever know. They had no way of seeing if any raiders lay in ambush. But nor could the raiders hope to see them.
The stars were on full, brilliant display, but Emma's eyes were searching the darkness around them. Hooves clopping through the compacted dirt seemed impossibly loud, as if announcing their presence to the world.
There, far on the horizon was an almost imperceptible glow. It had to be over a mile away, down in a natural low spot. The longer she looked at it, the brighter the glow and more numerous it became. First there was one, then two, then three, then six.
"Is that them? Or a decoy?" She pointed towards the fires, belatedly realizing he might not even be able to see the gesture. Whether he did or not, he saw the flames.
The tension flowed from his back. "That would be them. The Mongols do not care who sees them at night, for they only light fires for half their men, so that enemies will underestimate their numbers."
Six fires she could see. Going conservatively, there could be ten men a fire. If they sparked timber for only half their men, then there could be upwards of a hundred and twenty raiders. Emma's gut knotted. It was certainly a force to be reckoned with. A small army that would require one in turn to stand against them. Did Masyaf even host that many Assassins? What if they only had half as many fighters?
Then again, from what she had seen, the Assassins were not warriors. Guerilla attacks, using cover and their skills at disappearing, special tactics would even the odds very quickly. Gang members outnumbered officers, that didn't mean they stopped pursuing them. Slightly shaking her head, she forced the thoughts away. Now was not the time to be making battle plans. Now was the time for getting by unseen. While the raider camp appeared some distance from this portion of the road, she would not be surprised if they had scouts watching the path in the darkness.
So silence reigned between them once again, trusting only the horse and Altair's memory to keep them on the right trail. Was this how she was to enter Masyaf then, under the cover of darkness, slipping in like a whisper?
For some reason, it rubbed her wrong to do it in such a manner. Sure Malik had encourage her to cover her features and remain anonymous in the crowd, to keep as few people as possible from knowing about her. But doing so while going into a fortress of assassins to meet their Master felt...wrong. She wanted to be seen going in. Wanted others to know that she was there. None would raise a hand in her defense against the undisputed leader, but if they knew of her presence, perhaps he would think twice before doing something unfavorable.
"Will we reach the castle tonight?" She didn't want to break the silence, but she couldn't stop herself from asking, the dread of such a thing twisting her gut over and over.
"No. The gates are closed, we will have to wait until dawn." He was tired, worn, but the annoyance and arrogance had yet to return to his tone.
Emma had no idea where he could hope to spend the night now that they were back on the road. Did he plan to sleep against the gates themselves? Or did he know of a place nearby to hunker down out of sight?
There was nothing to see, nothing to gauge time or distance traveled other than the slowly dimming fires in the distance. When they disappeared, it felt as though they were on a treadmill; always moving but going nowhere.
Frowning to herself, Emma squinted hard into the darkness. She'd never tried it like this before. Would her extra sense see any threats, or was it limited by what her sight could make out? An immediate pounding behind her eyes drummed as Altair's back glowed blue. Everything else remained dark and indiscernible. Squeezing her eyes shut, Emma sorely wished the use of the sense didn't always have to result in such an irritating headache. Matt didn't get headaches when he used his. Her father had never mentioned pain being associated with their various gifts. Why oh why did she have to get the one that was a literal pain to use?
Heaving a sigh, Emma didn't bother to open her eyes again. What was the point, when it looked the same as keeping them shut? Dropping her chin to her chest, she wondered if perhaps she could hear of any potential threats coming.
Her forehead bumped into Altair's back, jarring her from an unintended siesta. The horse had come to a stop, though still there was only enough light to see the white of the assassin's robes.
"We will stop here for the night." He waited for her feet to hit the ground before dismounting himself. He did not loosen the girth of the saddle, Emma chose not to say anything about it. With danger so close, they might have to make a speedy escape. It would help neither of them if the saddle were to fall in the attempt.
"Is it safe here?" She asked, voice barely above a whisper. Even if the raiders were leagues away, the darkness felt enclosing, as it if might squeeze around them at the slightest provocation.
"No. Get some rest, I will keep watch." Yeah, right. Get rest out here? With danger around any invisible corner? Sure the movement of the horse could lull her to sleep, but she felt wide awake again and was painfully aware of how vulnerable sleeping on the ground was.
"All night?" She raised a brow even if he couldn't see it. He was human too, after all, and couldn't go night after night with little to no rest. Her body may be tired of travel, but she could keep watch too, let him get some sleep. It wasn't as if she was going to run off the moment he closed his eyes. Her only options, after all, was Masyaf or an army of raiders. She may be willing to place a risky bet now and then, but even she knew when the odds made the choice for her.
"I will rest tomorrow." His tone indicated that was the end of the conversation. She could push the issue and keep watch if she really wanted to, but he would not be sleeping.
Facing the unknown Master of the Assassins was not something she looked forward to. Doing so exhausted would be no improvement. With a sigh, Emma blindly groped for a patch of relatively flat and rock-free ground. There wasn't much for selection, but at least she wasn't in a saddle and she could finally press her back against something. The remainder of the night passed in stiff tension. Every sound was a raider coming from the darkness with a gleaming blade, every breath was a beacon to their location. More than once the horse shuffling had her jolting from a doze, believing it was an army of horses about to trample them.
It was a relief when the night began to give way to dawn and Emma fully expected them to be heading for the gates the moment they could see ten feet in front of them. They did not. Even as she moved and made obvious she was already awake, Altair made no motion for the horse. She would have said he'd fallen asleep himself, except that his head was up, exposed from the hood and focused on something behind the rocks they'd tucked themselves behind.
Curiosity won out over caution. Her lips parted, a question on them. They promptly snapped closed as a horse whinnied. She turned sharply towards the black stallion. His ears were pricked forward. He hadn't made the sound, but the problem now would be if he replied. Another whiny, a snort, a squeal. Every call from the other animals made her wince. The stallion pawed once. If he made a sound, just one, then whoever was nearby would surely hear him.
No wonder Altair had not moved yet. Their camp for the night was in a nook in the rocks, the only way out would expose them. Moving slowly, Emma crept up to where the Assassin was laid out on the rock. His only acknowledgement was a short look. The woman peered out, swearing heavily under her breath. The raiders were out in force, at least fifty of them on the road they had come down last night. They milled about in no hurry, checking the hooves of their mounts. It was Emma's first real look at them and she was suddenly very glad she'd stuck with the assassin after all. While their leather armor wouldn't be the sturdiest protection, it allowed them to move with ease, which they did despite a bulky build. Swords are varying make hung from their sides, no doubt the spoils of previous raids. Almost all had bows slung over their backs or strapped to their saddles.
Two were standing away from the main group, looking at something on the ground. Emma realized with a sickening jolt that it would be the tracks of their passing the night before.
"We have to move." She whispered, glancing back at the stallion who had so far remained blessedly quiet. The raiders were far enough that they wouldn't be able to hear her voice over the ruckus of their own men and horses, but they were still well within bow range should they be spotted.
"No. We cannot." Emma turned sharply towards the assassin, ducking slightly to keep herself completely hidden.
"Are you crazy? It will take them seconds to find us with those tracks we left!" It was a strain to keep her voice quiet. The man really wanted to tempt fate that much? They had a better chance of making it if they fled at a dead run! The head start might prove just enough to get them away. It wasn't good odds, but it was far better than just sitting and waiting for the raiders to find them. It was two against fifty!
"They will not follow the tracks."
"You sound certain of that. Looks to me like they're still deciding." She peeked her head up for a split moment. Yes, the two raiders were still gesturing to the tracks.
"I am certain. They will not come closer to Masyaf unless in pursuit of someone they know is there. As far as they know, we have already reached the safety of the village. If we move now, they will catch us. Stay put and they will move on." He may have been convinced of his own words, but Emma was not. Sitting still and waiting out was not something she did easily. She would feel much better doing something, even if it was running for their lives. Even if they had no real hope of outrunning so many.
"And if the horse makes a noise?" She glanced back at the stallion, amazed that he hadn't given them away already. His ears were still at attention, his head stretched up to look around. They were lucky the rocks were high enough to keep him blocked from view. His sides quivered, as if prepared to let loose a whiny.
Altair spared him only a passing look. "He will not. He is trained to be silent."
Emma raised her brows, wondering how on earth he would know such a thing and how he would have even found such an animal in the middle of nowhere. Finding him in such a remote village seemed less and less good luck and more intentional planning. Had he known he was there beforehand? They'd certainly stuck with this horse longer than the others, as if he were special in someway, other than being more fit.
If the assassins had specially trained horses hidden throughout the landscape in random villages, it would hardly be the most surprising thing she'd learned about this era.
The horse pawed the ground twice, stirring up a small plume of dust into the otherwise clear air. Emma watched it rise, certain that it stood out like a neon sign.
Altair retracted down the rock, rolling to lay on his back and closing his eyes, fingers laced together on his chest. Emma blinked at him. Was he….was he napping? Sure there was nothing they could do at the moment but they could at least be awake and prepared in case they had to fight or flee!
"What are you doing?" She hissed at him, keeping one eye on him and another on the raiders.
"What does it look like? Unlike some, I had no rest last night. I am getting it now."
"What if they come over here? They could kill you before you even knew they were there!"
He snorted. "Hardly. They will not come this far, and resting will ensure they do not by keeping me still and silent."
She narrowed her eyes, muffling an annoyed growl and forcing herself to slide down the rock as well. It was like trying to sleep in a patrol car parked outside of a gang hideout.
Keeping track of time was impossible. Seconds felt like an hour, minutes felt like days. There was no sleeping, not like Altair, who hadn't so much as twitched a finger since he closed his eyes. She could still hear the horses and the raiders not far away. She tried not to think about them, tried to focus on anything else.
It was like trying to not focus on every breath once she was aware of her breathing.
A large bird wheeled overhead, riding the thermals higher and higher. Was it a hawk maybe? Or a vulture? The latter would be more fitting; no doubt they looked like corpses on the rock from high above, gruesome remains of the raiders nearby. They could be such at any moment, any second. The sun kept creeping up, burning hotter and hotter until even the bird abandoned the sky for the refuge of shade. Emma wished they could do the same, but there was no relief, not even a breeze.
And then there was silence.
Emma waited without moving, straining to hear something, anything, that might indicate it was a trap. Beside her, Altair opened his eyes. Silently rolling to his stomach, he glanced over the rock to confirm what he already knew.
"They have moved on, now we must as well."
Gaining his feet abruptly, he made for the black horse and mounted smoothly, as if he hadn't been stiff from laying on a rock for hours. Emma was far slower to stand, her joints protesting the sudden movement after so long still. Walking sounded pleasant, but the raiders could backtrack at any moment. The faster they could get away from here, the better.
Despite standing under the burning sun with no water all morning, the stallion was eager to move, his steps quick.
"Put on your robe and pull up the hood." Altair instructed not long after they had started out. The rock wall had only continued to grow on one side, becoming a towering cliff that cast them into welcomed shade.
"I thought the Assassins didn't take sides in the war. Why would they care what I look like?" Malik had made it clear before that they fought for neither army, they fought only for the people, no matter which side they were on. Was what he claimed, anyway. So far she'd only known him and Altair of the Brotherhood so it was impossible to say if they were truly unbiased as a whole.
"We do not. But the last English here were an army looking to invade. No one will have forgotten so quickly." So the cover was less for their sake and more for hers. Great, another Jerusalem. She'd traded one gilded cage for one with more assassins. With a sigh, she pulled the robe from her bag and slung it on, pulling up the hood.
Rounding a corner, their road dropped down a hill before ending abruptly at a massive wall of logs, carved to points at the top. One of the doors was propped open and two guards stood before it. Hardly inviting.
Altair did not ride for the gate, but turned to the right of it, where Emma realized was the stables, tucked neatly against the rockface. Several horses sat tethered and tacked, ready to go at a moment's notice. At least it was shaded here, though they hardly looked uncomfortable
For the past uncounted days, all Emma could think about was putting the horseback riding behind her; of sliding from the saddle and not having to climb back on. Nothing had sounded sweeter that putting the animals and Altair out of sight and mind for quite some time. Now that her boots hit the dirt and all that she'd wanted was right there, just beyond those looming gates….she wanted nothing more than to jump back on that horse and ride like hell away from here. The journey was over, she'd reached the dragon's den and now all that was left was the face the beast itself.
A man came from back of the stables and took the horse from the assassin. The only escape now was on foot. Hardly an option.
Damn it all, she was not a coward. The constant itch and fear that drove her to want to get away had no basis. She was a New York police officer. When she stepped through that gate she was not only representing herself and her department, but the entire population of the modern world.
Right, no pressure.
Really, this man, this leader of assassins, couldn't be all terrible, right? He had a code that his men had to follow, a strict rule against killing innocents. What his punishments were for breaking the rules, she didn't know, but it had been implied that a man would only commit such a crime once. Altair trusted him completely. While that didn't entirely give her any confidence, Malik's faith had her squaring her shoulders and following the assassin through the gates. Malik she trusted, felt she could count as a friend. If he said this Al Mualim could be told her whole story, then she would do so.
But then….the followers of gang leaders always trusted the one in charge with their lives too. Would die for them, lie under oath for them. What was a brotherhood of killers if not a gang?
She was wrong before. This wasn't a dragon's nest, for then the only potential enemy was the dragon itself. This was a lion's den, with an entire pride ready to tear her to pieces.
Beyond the wooden gates the rock walls fell away to open to a large village. Front and center was a well, where three women stood gossiping as a fourth brought up a pail. Men roamed about, ignoring shouting merchants who tried to convince anyone who would listen that they had the best wares. It...wasn't much different from the bazaar of Jerusalem, though the guards here wore uniforms more reminiscent of Altair's robes. The whole town was built into a hillside that was topped by a truly impressive stone structure. A castle was the only way Emma could describe it, as she tipped her head back to see it from under the hood.
For the most part, the pair was entirely ignored as they trekked up the road. Even the merchants didn't bother to shout at the assassin, knowing the uselessness of such an endeavor. A few of the guards nodded or spoke a handful of words to their brother, but otherwise they were left alone. Emma almost wished there would be a delay, that someone would come with some urgent matter. There was none. Everyone went about their day as if absolutely nothing were out of the ordinary, as if everything were exactly as it should be; just another sunny day like all of the ones before. Too soon the town passed behind and below them, the hill steepening as it lead to the main gates where a man in robes lounged carelessly, a hood drawn over his head. It was as if he were waiting for someone, but the look he cast them on their approach was one of disdain.
"Altair, I am sorry to see you back in one piece. Come to disappoint the Master again?" The hooded man sneered, blocking the path through the gateway.
"I am in no mood for your pathetic barbs today, Abbas." The assassin snarled, using his forearm to forcibly shove the other man out of the way. The stranger's back hit the rocky wall, and Emma saw angry eyes flash to her.
The hood could hide her hair, but it could not hide her blue eyes or fair skin. The man scowled, before the look transformed into a wicked grin. "You have crossed the line this time, fool. The Master will not spare you a second time!"
Emma dropped his gaze quickly, gritting her teeth as she walked past and into the castle grounds. While she held no love for the man in front of her, it struck her as odd for one of his own supposed brothers to wish nothing but harm to him in such a way. Had that been why he was waiting at the gateway? To attempt to draw the other assassin into a fight or something? Classic brute move; humans really hadn't changed in 800 years.
"Ah Altair! Care to show these new recruits how it is done?" Another man shouted from a wooden ring surrounded by men in similar simple dress. Trainees then.
The assassin just waved his hand and kept going, starting up a long staircase; the speaker did not seem perturbed or off-put in the slightest. "Another time then!"
As they climbed the stairs towards the castle doors, Emma could look down into the ring at the men training. They were clumsy and slow, tripping over legs too long for them and dropping wooden swords too heavy for their grip.
She stumbled on a step, jaw clenching until her teeth ground harshly together as she watched the man who had shouted berate the one who'd dropped his weapon.
Not men. Not trainees. Not recruits.
Children.
"Keep moving." Altair's fingers wrapped around her bicep, but Emma stayed rooted, unable to tear her eyes away.
"Those are children for Christ's sake! You're training kids to be killers!" she snarled, turning her furious gaze sharply to him.
He raised his brows, sparing the ring a momentary glance. "Yes. We all trained at that age. The younger they learn, the younger they master the skills."
Emma closed her eyes, tried to force the images back. Children gunned down, beaten, murdered for the gangs they'd thought would protect them. "The younger they die, you mean."
More pressure on her arm forced her to take a step or fall. Continuing up the stairs, every clash of wooden swords rang like drums against her chest.
"When did you start your training, then, if not as a child?" It might have been an honest question, if not for the sneer in his voice.
"Not until I was 19, when I made the choice to go to the Academy. Children are to be protected, not turned into soldiers." She walked slower, forcing him to adjust his pace or pull harder.
"And that is why you will never best an Assassin in a fight."
"At least I got to choose what I wanted to fight for." She growled, blinking as she found herself temporarily blinded by the darkness as they stepped inside after the harsh brightness outside.
Altair did not respond, only continued to lead her further in, towards more stairs that wrapped around the perimeter of the room.
We all trained at that age. The words nipped at her, made her wonder. Did he ever have a choice, or was this the only thing he ever knew? Immersed in violence at such a young age...no wonder it all seemed normal and acceptable to him. He might not know any different.
A stab of pity struck her before it was quickly washed away as they reached the top of the stairs. It opened to a study set before a large window that overlooked the training grounds below. Loaded shelves surrounded a desk that was cluttered with papers and objects.
A man in black robes with the hood drawn up stood with his back to them, looking out the window. His stance, the way Altair stopped several feet from the desk, the intricate white stitching throughout his robes, all clearly stated this was the Master of Assassins. This was Al Mualim.
"You are late, Altair. I expected you three days ago." He turned slowly, the picture of indifference.
"I apologize, we were waylaid by Mongol raiders." Among other things, but Emma found herself grateful he didn't mention that.
"The raiders have not troubled us in some time." The older man dismissed, his eyes passing over her for only a moment before returning to his assassin.
"We have not troubled them in some time. They are getting bolder, attacking villages and making camp closer than they ever have before." Altair stated with an edge to his voice that was borderline insubordinate.
Wait, so his confidence in their not discovering them in their little rock hiding place was all a lie? He'd been so adamant that the raiders would not come an inch closer, and yet they'd never been that close to Masyaf before? He gambled! He risked their lives on a slim chance!
Emma frowned. Why would he do such a thing? It wasn't just her life he'd been risking, but his own. He would have been slaughtered too had they been discovered. But...what choice had they really had? If they'd attempted to run, or climb, or move from that little cove, they would have been spotted and run down. Every option available to them would have ended in death. Their only chance had been fool's luck that the raiders wouldn't come any further. While a part of her would have liked to have known the truth of their situation, another part knew it would have only made the waiting that much harder. It'd been a small mercy how he'd decided to handle it, whether that was what he'd intended or not.
"They are not so bold as to attack us outright. Our stronghold is secure. Now enough of that, I trust you did not fail to deliver what was tasked of you this time?"
Altair tipped his head, indicating she should finally step forward. Emma felt her feet frozen to the stone, unwilling and unwanting to move closer to this man. Alarm bells went off like air raid sirens in her head. Her instincts demanded she run, run far away and never look back. Malik trusted him, but he could be wrong. This was a man who trained children to be killers, who demanded absolute loyalty from said killers and controlled life and death over an entire region. It was too much power for any one person to have.
"Leave us, Altair. We will speak later of your work."
No. No, no, no, no, no. Please don't go! Emma felt her fingers latch around his forearm as a ridiculous and almost childlife fear overtook her. She pleaded silently, begged with her eyes that he not leave her with this man. Something didn't feel right, something felt so, so wrong. She couldn't even say what it was, but it made even this dangerous assassin feel like safety. He was a shark in the water; he could protect her or kill her on a whim, yet he was familiar and in this twisted world, familiar was a comfort.
Altair met her gaze evenly and carefully extracted his arm. He walked away without a glance back.
"There is no need to be frightened, child, I have no reason to harm you." The man had his hands clasped firmly in front of him.
'Not yet.' his stance seemed to say.
Or was it in her head? Was she simply being paranoid from past experience with strangers in this world? No, no her instincts hadn't let her down thus far, she wasn't about to stop trusting them now.
"I have heard you have quite the story to tell. I would be most interested in hearing it." He moved around his desk, taking a seat. There was no chair across from him and he made no motion to offer an alternative. Emma gladly stayed standing and made no move to close the distance to the desk. Now that he was sitting there behind it, she liked him even less. There was a painful prick against her skull, prying. Like when she tried to use her Vision for too long, but more pinpoint and direct.
"I come from...far away. I was abducted and left stranded in Jerusalem. The Dai there thought you might be able to help me get home." She was careful to avoid using Malik's name, lest he think there might be something exploitable there. He could be her only hope of making it back to her time, but she found herself unable to give the very details he needed.
"Someplace far away indeed. A new world." There was….something to his tone. Something...off, but she couldn't place exactly what emotion he was expressing. Wistfulness? Desire? No, none of it was right.
"Same world, just a different place."
"There is no need for games." His voice snapped sharply, the vision of patience gone. "I know you are from a place that does not exist to us yet and a time that is to be our future. I am going to need more details than that if I am to get you home."
Time and space screeched to a halt. Thoughts crashed into a jumbled heap that were quickly swept away by the flood that was a single hope.
'If I am to get you home'?! He actually could? Or at least he thought he had a way to get her home? To them it was magic that brought her here so surely that would mean he could only think of magic to send her back, but magic did not exist! Surely nothing primitively scientific was capable of what Abstergo had created! Right?
"You think you can send me home?" her voice cracked, trying not to dare to hope but desperately wanting to anyway.
He wasn't calling her crazy, he wasn't locking her up or sentencing her to death. He was asking for details of when and where she was from so he could send her home.
"I believe there are many mysteries in this world, but to every bafflement of magic, there is an answer that may be found." His hand moved to touch at an ornate golden globe that sat inside an equally golden statue. The prick against her skull increased as she looked at it.
His fingers made contact, the painful point exploded behind her eyes, sending her sight dark. It scalded and pounded and raged against her skull until it was all she could think about, all she could feel. There was nothing but pain, nothing but searing agony and an angry, hissing voice, "This is not your place! You do not belong here!"
"Child?" The pressure in her head and the voice evaporated, a low throb left in its wake.
Emma opened her eyes, not sure when she'd actually closed them. Her head was pinched tightly between her hands, as if she might have squeezed the pain away. The rough stone was cold against her knees. When had she fallen?
Al Mualim was standing now, though he had not moved more than a step from his desk. Whatever that was had not lasted long and yet even the memory felt it was an eternity.
"We shall continue our discussion at another time then, for you are clearly travel-weary and in need of some rest." He gestured and a man in white robes and mail appeared. "Jamal shall show you to your room."
The man dipped his head in respect to the Master. He approached as if he might assist her up, but Emma pushed herself to her feet before he could reach for her. It was too much, too confusing, too chaotic. She didn't know who or what to trust or what the fuck just happened. Too many questions with no answers and her skull still felt like it'd been split it two and why had that happened?! Was it the Master's doing or coincidence? It was definitely a woman's furious snarl that had been in her head, or had it been outloud? Neither man before her acted as if they'd heard another voice.
Some privacy away from all these assassins would be nice. Maybe then she could figure out the source of that pain.
Jamal did not attempt to touch her again, but led the way back down the stairs to the main hall. Only instead of going straight outside to the training ring, he turned right, past shelves of books and down a corridor she hadn't noticed before. It was a hall lined with a handful of doors. Not enough to be the barracks, but perhaps for the captains, or whatever they were called here. Altair was walking towards them, though it was impossible to know which door he might have come from.
"Emma?" She was surprised he would call her by name like that, his brows pinched in confusion. "Are you alright?"
Was that...was that concern? In what world did that make sense? He was more than happy to abandon her to his Master just minutes ago. Why the sudden change?
"I'm fine." She growled, rubbing her temple. It still pulsed in time with her heartbeat. Some whiskey and a bottle of Tylenol would great right about now.
The assassin did not look wholly convinced, brows furrowing further. "You were screaming."
"I was not." She would know if she'd actually screamed; the last time she'd done that had been Halloween of 2012. "Was I?"
But then, she didn't remembered dropping to her knees or bringing her hands to her face either, but she'd done it. The pain had been so sudden, so shocking and devastating that it had been impossible to be aware of anything else. Her throat did feel a bit scratchy, now that she was thinking about it.
"I...don't know what happened. Sudden headache I guess." The look he gave her was one that clearly stated he didn't believe a word she said, but he didn't bother pushing for a better answer. Giving her one glance-over, he brushed past and continued on his way.
Jamal hadn't said a word or moved an inch. His lips were tightly pressed together as he resumed walking down the hall another handful of paces before stopping at a door that looked like the others. Opening it, he gestured for her to go inside.
Emma did as bid and was only somewhat surprised when the door was closed tightly behind her. Waiting a minute, she turned back and tried it. Locked. Hardly a guest then. A prisoner, but then, hadn't she been one all this time? Under their rule and thumb since she entered Malik's bureau, only now there was an actual room to secure her in.
Slit windows on the far wall allowed in light while preventing even the thought of attempting to squeeze through. Her arm might fit through, but even her bicep would be pushing it. A fireplace took up the entirety of one wall, a stack of wood tucked into the corner next to it. The bed looked like it belonged in a seedy motel but was probably considered luxurious by their standards. A chest sat at the foot of it and a small desk was tucked against the wall near the door. It was nothing spectacular, but it was a space with no assassins where she might be able to think.
Dropping her bag onto the bed, she stripped off the robe and pulled out the journal Malik had acquired for her what felt like a lifetime ago. It'd been awhile since she'd been able to write any of her thoughts down and boy did she have things to write. If only her dad were here, she thought sadly, he could string a puzzle together before most people ever recognized there was a pattern.
Present Day
David Harp pinched the bridge of his nose, sorely tempted to reach out and slap the boy in front of him. Perhaps then his son would stop bloody pacing.
"Wearing a hole into the floor isn't going to help anyone." He stated flatly, dropping his hand to level the younger man a stare that had stopped hardened criminals in their tracks.
Matt looked up at his father but did not stop moving. How could he, with all that he had just learned? Even the prosthetic limb bothered him little. If it did, he was too preoccupied to notice.
"You're telling me that there's some secret war going on that's been going for decades…"
"I believe he used the term centuries." David cut it dryly. It was Matt's turn to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"Going on for centuries, and Em got caught in the middle of it?"
David gestured to a stack of files that had his girl's handwriting over it. How William Miles had gotten hands on them he didn't know, nor had he asked. "Apparently she was looking into missing person cases that were all Assassins or their affiliates, only she didn't know it. Somehow, and even they don't know how, she got information that connected their disappearances to Abstergo."
"Which are really Templars like from the Crusades." Matt's tone was bordering disbelief. If it had been anyone else telling him this, he would have called them a liar. But his father did not lie, nor could anyone get away with telling him one. "Only she didn't know that, so she staged the accident to get a look into them before they could hide behind lawyers."
And that was the last she'd been seen.
It was enough to drive a man mad. They were proven right by all of this, that their instinct about Abstergo being behind her disappearance was accurate. They now knew just how dangerous the company really was, who it really was. They had more allies, more information, more clues that tightened the noose on Abstergo. And yet still not one damn idea about where Emma was or what they had done to her.
"Why didn't she get help from the others? Why all the secrecy?" More importantly, why hadn't she come to them? He lost a leg, not his mind!
"Because according to these, many of the cops are bought out, she didn't know who she could trust there. And because she's just like you. For whatever reason you both got all of my lessons but the one about the importance of allies." David growled. It was the one trait of their mother's that he'd really wished she hadn't passed on. She'd always believed she could take on the world by herself too.
"What about Eliot?" Matt liked the guy, he really did; once he'd even hoped his sister would show some romantic interest in her partner. It would break his heart to have to strangle the cop with his own gear belt if he had any part in Emma's disappearance.
David blessedly shook his head. "As far as the Assassins know, he's clean."
Matt narrowed his eyes at the phrasing. "And are we trusting the Assassins completely now?"
It was too cloak and dagger, too hidden messages and questionable loyalties. How could they really trust a secret army of killers just because they swore they were the good army of killers?
"You know better. Miles did not lie to me, but I know he's withholding. They may not know for certain what happened to Emma, but they have their suspicions." He leaned forward in his chair, glancing at the files again. It was as much about what wasn't there as what was. The names and associations of those affiliated with the Templars, the missing Assassins and allies, but nothing on their connections to the current Brotherhood. William Miles was as much using them as he was helping.
Matt frowned, finally pausing in his pacing to cross his arms over his chest. "Then we should be digging into them as well, find out what they're hiding."
David sighed heavily. "And make more enemies for ourselves? No, we need their help for now. Give them a chance to gain some trust in us and go from there. Keep the focus on Abstergo."
Sometimes there was no choice but to step into the shadows to save those in the light.
Captain: Yeah I know, I couldn't help myself with that last line, hehe :D. Uh-ho, what's going on with our dear Emma? Can Al Mualim get her home?Will Matt and David do something they shouldn't? Find out next time! Please drop a review and let me know what you think of the latest installment and if you caught the little AC1 easter egg!
