Chapter Fifteen: Gustus Amari

Desmond and Kadar eased over the sand to stare at the encampment not far ahead.

"Nomads." Kadar mumbled. "Likely peaceful...from a distance. We should steer clear from them if we can."

"Agreed."

Desmond turned to start back towards the horses, but let out a surprised yelp when a spear came down towards him. He rolled away, his cry having alerted Kadar to the danger. The sand made it difficult to move quickly and Desmond, having grown accustomed to the thick brush of the Easter United States, struggled to adjust to movement on it. He slid down the slope, barely avoiding the next attack, and righted himself only briefly. He dodged a sword, drawing his own, but his hand was shoved back, pushing his sword back into its sheath. A fist connected with his face and red sprayed across his vision. The ground came up to swallow him, the impact surreal in his pounding head.

By the time he had come to he was already bound and slung across the rump of a horse.

Haste Arabic came to his ears and he strained to listen to it.

"The Master wants them brought before him in Masyaf." One familiar voice was saying.

"But Abbas..."

"But what?" Abbas gnashed back.

"Kadar...he lives!"

"And?" Abbas spat and Desmond felt the spray on his cheek. "He has betrayed the Brotherhood, choosing instead to follow this...strange foreigner! He will pay for this...with his life, no doubt! And Malik will know to hate this foreigner as much as Al Mualim! Perhaps that damned fool Altair will see the errors of his own ways in speaking highly of him!"

"But Abbas..."

"But nothing!" Abbas shouted. "We will bring them before Al Mualim and they will die! It shall be as it should be! We are Assassins! Do not act so foreign to death!"

Desmond remained as still as he could, letting only his eyes wander to where Kadar was, limp and tied so he lay across the hindquarters of a horse as if he was their latest catch of gazelle. Gritting his teeth, he desperately thought through a plan, knowing he had to get them free before they reached Masyaf or Kadar would die.

It wasn't until they had set up camp only a day's journey from Masyaf before Kadar finally opened his eyes.

"Ah, you awake." Abbas grabbed the young man's hair and yanked his head back, causing Kadar's face to scrunch with pain. "Little traitor."

The spit to fly from Abbas' lips landed just beneath Kadar's eye, making him wince as if struck by a whip instead.

"Does this make you happy?" Abbas snarled, tightening his grip on Kadar's hair so the young man gritted his teeth to keep from yelping. "Following in your beloved Altair's footsteps? Do you too need to be reminded of what happens when you betray the Brotherhood? Shall we stab you? Shall we torture you? Shall we just kill you and call it done?"

"Leave him be." Desmond growled and Abbas glared at him.

With a final shake of Kadar's head, Abbas released the youth to approach Desmond instead, his steps miming those of a lion circling its prey. Desmond wasn't surprised when Abbas kicked him, though it still hurt as much.

"Got something to say, stranger?" Abbas spat at him before kicking again. "Worthless, pathetic fool!"

Desmond exhaled, letting Abbas kick him, but not giving the man the satisfaction of hearing him cry out in pain.

"What?" Abbas laughed. "Too proud? How about I change that?"

Desmond concentrated on Abbas' foot, waited, and then jerked the moment Abbas made contact. He felt his binds loosen slightly. Again, he waited, glaring at Abbas' boot. Again, he jerked when the appendage smote him. Again, he pulled his arm a little bit through the bindings. By the time Abbas finally abandoned him to gather drink and food from his accompanying brothers, Desmond had managed to slip most of his right hand through the bindings. Some wiggling brought him free, though he was wise to let himself appear to still be bound.

"What happened to his arm?" He caught one of the Assassins whispering to the others. "Kadar? What happened?"

"Who knows?" Another replied. "This stranger probably caused it, no doubt."

"For Malik's sake, I hope Al Mualim spares him."

"He will only do so if Kadar repents...even then..."

Desmond eyed the other Assassins before carefully flicking sand at Kadar, grabbing his attention. Forcing his features to remain emotionless, he showed one of his hands to the other. Kadar barely smiled, but quickly reverted to a blank stare as he lifted his own hand into view. Glad to see the young man had managed to loose himself from the rope tying him to a tree, Desmond now focused on the next part of the plan: counting. There were a total of six Assassins, seven horses, and only one tent set up. No doubt Abbas and one or two of the other Assassins would sleep inside the tent, leaving three or four Assassins outside to keep an eye on the horses and prisoners. Since they would only really need one or two to be guarding, he expected at least one Assassin to sleep near the fire to keep it stoked, meaning there was a chance one Assassin would be sleeping near to Desmond and Kadar. If not, then they only had three total Assassins to incapacitate: the one by the fire, the one guarding the horses, and the one keeping an eye on them as well as the surrounding land.

After the counting was done, all that was left to do was wait. Kadar would follow his lead, so he didn't need to worry about instructing the younger Assassin. All that mattered was setting up a workable plan. He knew what they needed. They needed some of the supplies and they needed horses. They would not escape if they left anything for Abbas and the others to pursue them with. Spoil the supplies they left behind and spoil the horses and Desmond could assure the two escaped without immediate pursuit.

Sighing, Abbas rose from where he sat. "I'm going to sleep."

As Desmond had hoped, two of the other Assassins joined Abbas in the tent, leaving three outside. The setup couldn't have been more perfect. One Assassin bundled down with a stick by the fire while another wandered over to the horses, ensuring they were watered, fed, and securely tied. The remaining Assassin walked over to Desmond and Kadar, reaching down to the former to ensure he was bound. This action was unanticipated and Desmond rashly grabbed him, strangling him until he grew limp. He was mindful to stop before the man could suffocate.

This was where the plan stagnated. With Abbas having just gone to sleep, any disturbances would bring the Assassins out to attack, meaning their best bet wasn't a pretty one. Desmond inched to Kadar to whisper the plan and the two immediately shuffled off to their duties. The Assassin at the fire jerked upright when he heard Kadar incapacitate the man by the horses. As he opened his mouth to say something to Abbas, he was knocked unconscious by Desmond and gently lowered to the ground. Grabbing his gear and strapping it on, Desmond eyed where Kadar was cutting the ties of the horses. Without hesitation, Desmond reached down to grab a branch from the fire, letting the burning fringe ignite the surrounding bushes as he passed. Mounting his terrified horse, he tossed the branch atop Abbas' tent just as the three Assassins inside called out in surprise.

"Ride, Kadar!" Desmond urged, kicking the sides of his horse.

The two abandoned the wildfire with Abbas cursing their names.

In another place and another time, Desmond would have laughed off the incident and he was sure had he Kadar would have joined in. Instead, they rode in silence as Desmond's mind wondered over the three Assassins he had sentenced to death. Kadar likely would not reflect on the incident much, but Desmond knew the truth. He could already see it: one strangled, two knocked out...and Abbas simply trying to get the conscious men to safety. They wouldn't be able to spare a thought to the others and he was sure at least one if not all three would parish. This thought left a bitter taste in his mouth for the rest of the night.