Chapter Eight

"Khara."
Drowsily I open my eyes to the darkness of night time. I look up to find the source of the voice and see the first friendly face in a long time, his features illuminated by glowing torches in the distance. Although the man kneeling in front of me wears the same armour as the first knight I'd talked to a few hours ago, the amiable smile plastered across his face makes me feel a lot better.
"Who are you?" I whisper tiredly, taking in the forest green eyes and tousled brown hair of the newcomer.
The man ignores my question and instead holds out a hand. Reluctantly I let him help me up, too tired emotionally and physically to fight back. I flinch slightly as his fingers brush my grazed knuckles, a result of my seemingly endless heartbreak. I'd spent long into the night punching the walls of my prison before I'd finally fallen asleep, angry at myself for giving in so easily. But no matter how much I bled, the physical pain didn't erase the four words now engraved into my memory.
His name is Altaïr.
My throat tightens as the ordeal comes rushing back to me. How much trust can you put into someone? Every time it seems like I put too much. Far too much. It all backfires in the end.
The man leads me into a clearing full of bustling men in the same uniform around clusters of horses. I look back at the simple brick prison, grateful to be out in the open air. Frowning, I observe the barren unrecognisable landscape around me.
"How long are you going to keep me?"
The man responds without looking back at me. "We don't know."
He doesn't know. Or he doesn't want to tell me. Either way, if I did manage to escape, where would I go? Roam this area until I hopefully find a place to stay? Or find my way back to Acre and be haunted every time I walk past the Cathedral of the Holy Cross? Feel my heart break every time I recount those lies?
I shake my head, in an attempt to disperse my thoughts as I eye the swords at each knight's hip. I've already seen the way the weapons can be drawn out so easily from my earlier experience with what I think is the commanding knight. Discouraged, I push away any thoughts of escape. I don't feel fit at all to be running off anyway. Memories keep flashing back, each of them draining me mentally. I've given up. I don't care where these people take me. I feel like I have nothing left to live for. All that I'm sure of is the pain in my heart that's slowly hacking away at me. Let them do what they want with me. Or more correctly, what Altaïr has planned for me.
A man pushes through the crowd, creating an impromptu pathway, his face filled with a multitude of ugly looking bruises. As he draws nearer I recognise him from the man who'd delivered me the heartbreaking news before. Abruptly he shouts so loud that all the other knights fall silent.
"Will!"
The man by my side stiffens and I realise that he's the one being addressed as he stutters an answer.
"Y-yes sir?"
I can hear several sniggers as Will stands petrified beside me.
"You should know better than to let this prisoner run around without her hands tied behind her back! Do you know what will happen if we disobey those orders? You'll definitely be the first to taste an assassin's blade!"
The man skilfully throws a rope across as Will stumbles forward, his fingers just grasping the line.
"Don't do it again."
Just as fast as he'd arrived, the man darts back into the crowd, now directing orders to another group of waiting people. Hurriedly Will steps beside me and fumbles with the rope, wrapping it securely over my wrists. He returns to my side with a firm grasp on my arm and gives me a sad smile.
"Sorry."
I'm surprised at the kindness of Will but decide to ignore the apology. Instead, I immediately, start probing for answers as he leads me to join the waiting group.
"Why did he do it?"
Will looks back at me quizzically. I try again, this time more clear with my motive.
"Why did Altaïr do this to me?" I choke on the name as my eyes moisten.
Will simply shakes his head and I can tell that he has no answer for me. Suddenly I'm grateful that I hadn't ended up with someone like the knight that had barked commands at Will. With someone like that I might just go over the edge. A part of me likes that idea. A part of me wants to have one more chance. A part of me doesn't know what to do at all.
I glance back just in time to see the knight mount his own steed. Will and I are one of the few without a horse.
"That's James. Really rough. Everyone's rough here except me. Maybe that's because I'm new, but I'm determined to stay. They say that Templar's always fight for a good cause. It was either the assassins or us. Who'd you rather be in the care of? Bloodthirsty murderers or brave knights? "
I look back to see Will's eyes almost shining with pride, a pride that sort of scares me but comforts at me at the same time in a way that even I can't understand. That I can't bother to understand either. Nothing makes sense anymore.
Without warning, a shrieking russet brown eagle swoops overhead, its eyes like glowing hot coals. I stare back at it in surprise and see not just a pupil, but a warning. I duck just in time as its talons almost grasp onto my hair as it flies into the starry night. Out of breath, I stumble onto my feet as Will grasps my arms.
"Are you okay?"
I nod, but I don't feel okay at all. Confused, I look up at the disappearing dot in the horizon as the army sets off and Will leads me along. The eagle disappears into the distance as I decide to simply ignore it. I had even said it myself. Nothing makes sense anymore.