Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed or any material related to Ubisoft in any way or form.
A/N: My apologies for this being so slow, but I had to flesh out a few things first before I continued. Also, if you have not played the game(s) before, it is highly inadvisable that you continue to read this story. Spoilers may abound.
By the time Altaïr reached the gates leading to the town from the Masyaf fortress, the man called Saqr was nowhere to be found. A growl arose in Altaïr's chest, his blood still boiling from the other assassin's taunting in front of Al Mualim. Hazel eyes focused sharply on a man lazing against the wall of the gateway, dressed in the garb of an inferior-ranked assassin, although—Altaïr's eyes narrowed once more in anger—the man was likely to be his superior now.
"You're in my way," he growled. The other assassin merely shrugged, straightening up as he spoke.
"Yes, Al Mualim has asked that I assist you… Remind you how it is we hunt our prey."
"I know how it works!" Altaïr's temper flared. The informant spread his hands.
"Be that as it may, I have no desire to disobey-"
"Then be quick!" For a brief second, it seemed as though Altaïr would kill the man then and there, but he reined in his temper. The informant nodded almost imperceptibly.
"The assassins have many tools at their disposal-"
"Yes, yes! We can eavesdrop, we can pickpocket… or we can use violence to intimidate," Altaïr growled impatiently.
"Good! Then you remember."
"Then you'd have me walk amongst the others and learn what I can about the traitor." The way Altaïr said it was clearly not a question. The informant nodded and swept his hand toward the path leading toward town.
"Begin by going to the village market. That's where we first spotted the traitor."
"You know who it is?!" The man shrugged.
"Perhaps."
"Then give me a name and let's be done with it," Altaïr snapped.
"That's not the way it works, Altaïr," Saqr murmured coming up the path behind the informant. Steel-grey eyes flashed under thick lashes as the man stared at Altaïr. "Al Mualim desires you to walk the path of a novice once more, and has placed you under my supervision so that you will do so. Now go," he waved his hand dismissively, turning his back on the two assassins. "Remember: begin your search in the village market." With that, he began to run toward the village.
The informant, seeing the livid glare on Altaïr's face, quickly side-stepped out of the man's way, and the flying eagle angrily followed Saqr's lead.
----
Less than an hour later, Altaïr's mood had improved marginally due to the disposal of the traitor Masun. At least he'd had someone to take his rage out on, even if it wasn't Saqr himself.
Within fifteen minutes, Al Mualim had commended him on a job well done, and then assigned him to a new task involving the assassinations of nine prominent figures.
"And you will not be going alone, either, Altaïr." The man had dreaded those words, but knew he had to accept them. Glancing over at Saqr, Altaïr saw that he merely saluted and bowed his head, saying nothing. Al Mualim turned to the pigeon coop he had beside the window, and unlatched the door, pulling out a disgruntled-looking bird that nipped at the ring around its leg.
"Have you any questions regarding your mission?" he asked, addressing Altaïr specifically. Saqr blended into the background, keen eyes watching the exchange with a distanced attitude. It had been too long since sh—he had been in Altaïr's position, a mere novice brought fresh out of the care of the Garden…
"Saqr." Said assassin's head snapped up attentively as Altaïr looked on, annoyed.
"Master?"
"You and Altaïr shall ride for Damascus. Seek out the black market merchant named Tamir," Al Mualim's face darkened as he gazed at the two assassin's before him. "Let him be the first to fall." Both Altaïr and Saqr bowed silently in assent. They turned to leave when Al Mualim spoke again.
"Be sure to visit the city's Assassin Bureau when you arrive. You cannot begin your mission without his consent."
"What nonsense is this?! I don't need his permission! It's a waste of time!" Altaïr growled, ready to lunge at the assassin Master. Saqr flew behind him so quickly he didn't have time to react, pinning an arm behind his back and kicking out a leg. The flying eagle grunted in pain as his knees hit the floor. Altaïr twisted his head around to glare at his captor, who regarded him with a cool gaze.
"It's the price you've paid for the mistakes you've made," Al Mualim replied quietly. "You'll answer not only to me, but to all the Brotherhood as well now." His gaze flicked up to Saqr as he paused for a moment, before waving his hand at them. The falcon released Altaïr none the gentler, and he stood up, flexing his arm.
"Take your equipment and go. Prove you are not yet lost to us." Altaïr picked up the sword Masun had been struck down with, cleaned it on the man's clothes, and sheathed it. Saqr's eyes watched his every move, noting Altaïr's posture, the way he held his sword, everything, and filed it away for later use. When Altaïr finally stood up fully, the falcon motioned with his head.
"Come Altaïr," he said, using his name for once. "We have much work to do."