Chapter Twenty-Two:

The Beginnings of an Adventure

1217

We left Masyaf with Robert, as he decided to travel with us. After saying a final farewell to my youngest brother and Malik, we set off. I cast a final look back at Masyaf, and thought I saw Abbas watching us as we left, but I had probably imagined it.

Robert rode beside me as we headed East. It would take months, possibly even years, to get to Mongolia, but I didn't mind. I had the time. Robert would often speak to me about England and its government, which I found interesting. I decided that I would visit my mother's homeland sometime in my life. Robert continued to go on about his wife, one he'd married after Maria had been thought dead. She was with child, and would have the baby this very year.

"I am to be a father," he said with a smile. "It matters not the battles I've been in. To be a father will be the greatest of glories that I could ever achieve."

We continued on the road in silence for a moment. "Why did you desert?" I asked suddenly.

Robert seemed distant. "I was at Acre," was all he said.

I remembered the massacre. The Crusaders spent weeks on the siege, and eventually Acre surrendered, opening their gates to the Crusaders. Without even a second thought, the Crusaders poured in and murdered everyone they could find, be it man, woman, or child. Masyaf had received some of the survivors, though they'd been in terrible shape when they'd come.

"Did you…?"

Robert looked crestfallen. "I almost did. I raised my blade, but I could not bring it down. When I fought soldiers, I was confused, because when I stabbed my blade into them, I did not see an enemy. I saw a man, fighting for his beliefs, as I did. Against innocent people…"

I waited, but Robert would say no more on the subject. A few days after we'd left Masyaf, Robert and his Squire, Squibs, announced their intentions to rejoin the Crusader army. Robert said that, as long as he killed only a few men on the field, it would be as if he'd never left. And no one had ever seen him leave.

"You want to go back to Jerusalem? The Crusaders are on the brink of defeat!" Darim exclaimed.

Robert nodded. "That may be so, but its something I need to do. God will guide my blade."

"Why leave your blade in God's hands?" I asked. "I don't see an ethereal hand on it. When I hold my blades, I do it knowing that I could be hurt, and no being claiming to be higher than I could possibly protect me. Only through my own strength, skills and experience may I hope to prevail."

Robert cast a funny look at me. "You are a strange one, Suna. You do not believe in God, and you speak as if you've been fighting for as long as I."

"I probably have," I told him.

Robert laughed at this. "Really? Then at camp tonight, I want to see how well you follow-up on your words!"

I nodded, smiling. "What about your departure?"

"It can wait. No sense in rushing to be defeated."

1512

On Midsummer's Day, Ezio's fifty-third birthday, I stood outside the room to which Ezio was assigned on the ship. Sofia had bought Ezio all sorts of Florentine dishes that she knew were his favourite. I wanted to give Ezio's present to him, but I also wanted him to have some alone time with Sofia. So, I waited.

After a while of casual talk, Sofia quieted. "What will you do now, Ezio?"

He sighed. "Return to Roma. My work here is done." A few seconds passed in silence. "And you, Sofia?"

"Maybe I will return to my shop, but it seems that Azize has become a better shopkeeper than I could ever hope to be." I could hear Sofia picking at her food. "And I have learned that there is a life outside of books."

"All life is outside of books."

"Spoken like a true scholar!"

"Life enters books. It isn't the other way around."

There was a long silence. I could practically hear Ezio's and Sofia's thoughts. I'd seen it in her eyes when I looked at her. Sofia and Ezio… they were definitely lovers. But was that it? Was that where it ended?

I wondered briefly if Cristina's death would stop Ezio from being with Sofia, if she had hurt him that much. That idiota had better learn that Sofia is probably the best anchor he's going to get… I thought with a frown.

"Azize, unlike you, has not yet fully recovered from her ordeal with Ahmet," Ezio said finally. "She has asked me to ask you if she may work there, at your bookshop."

I heard more wine being poured into their glasses. "And what is your interest in that?" Sofia asked. I could tell she very much wanted his opinion.

"It will make an excellent intelligence centre for the Seljuk—Turkish—Assassins." Ezio cleared his throat. I rolled my eyes, not believing that he was still thinking about work, despite how he just discarded his weapons. "A-As a secondary function, of course, and it would give Azize a quieter role in the Order. That is, if you…"

"And what will become of me?" Sofia pressed.

Ezio took a few deep breaths. "I… I wondered if…"

I heard him get up from his chair. From the way the planks creaked, I could tell Ezio was down on one knee.

"Sofia, mi amore, would you marry me?"

Only two tense seconds passed before Sofia replied, "Si, Ezio! Of course!"

My arm shot to the sky in cheer, just as I realized that I'd been holding my breath. Ezio Auditore, you are finally going to be a married man! I smiled.

"Say 'addio' to your freedom, amico," I muttered as my smile turned into a grin. "Then again, you've only had thirty-six years of it."

1217

Robert drew his blade and pointed it out to me. "Are you ready?"

I put my shortblade, my throwing knives, and my hidden blade in my tent, leaving myself with only my sword. I drew it and touched the tip of Robert's blade and nodded.

"I am ready," I told him.

Robert moved quickly for an older man, though not yet as old as Altair. He slashed at my torso, and when I'd deflected, aimed a strike at my head. I brought my sword up and deflected his blow, but only just. He had used more force than I thought he had. I staggered, and Robert quickly thrust his sword forward.

I side-stepped and started an attack of my own. Sacrificing power for speed, I aimed four good strikes at Robert. One at his left side (which he blocked), one at his legs (which he just managed to jump over), a stab at his torso (which he clumsily got out of the way of) and a strike at his left shoulder.

Robert held his ground and swung at my legs. I saw an opening on him. I leapt up and put my free hand on his right shoulder as I flipped overtop of him, then quickly tapped my sword against his left shoulder, letting the sound ring against his armour.

Darim cheered for me. Altair and Maria simply smiled. I sheathed my sword and shook Robert's hand, one which was shaking with excitement.

"If the Crusaders had learnt to fight as you do, maybe we would have reclaimed Jerusalem already," he remarked.

"Possibly," I replied. "Or you may have been cut-down faster. We sacrifice armour for movement."

Robert shrugged and sheathed his blade. "In the morning, I leave for Jerusalem. Thank-you. This may be the last noble duel I have."

2012

"… And, I guess, that was what happened in Constantinople," I said. "Altair allowed me to return to Constantinople so I could bury my sister. It was lucky I found her body. Afterwards, I returned to Masyaf and tried to enjoy the quiet that we'd been given."

Walter nodded in thought. I was sure that his head was still spinning at my tales, unsure of what to make of them. I wanted to ease him into the idea, but he'd insisted that he know everything.

"But that's not the end, is it?" Walter asked finally.

I shook my head. "We've barely scratched the surface."

Walter nodded again, and then smiled. "Well, it's a good thing I've got time then."

Jared knocked on the door to my room and opened it. "We've landed," he announced, casting a suspicious glance at Walter. "I'm taking off again in a few minutes, so you'd better hurry."

I nodded and stuffed my weapons into a bag, plus some spare clothes I found were Walter's size. We were ready to leave in about thirty seconds.

Walter and I said our good-bye's to Jared and then hurried off of the jet. We walked up the ramp to the terminal, skipping customs, and quickly made our way to the entrance. Walter was looking at the cars, the phonebooths, and the buildings in shock.

"Amazing…" he breathed.

I smiled and took his hand, leading him to the parking lot. Shaun was waiting by his tiny car and waved as we approached.

"Sam! It's about bloody time you got back!" he snapped. "Get in the car. There are some things that you need to be filled-in on."

I let Walter crawl into the back and helped him to put on his seat belt (to which he was ogling over), and then I sat in the front seat beside Shaun.

"What is it?" I asked, instantly turning serious.

"The Mentor of the Assassins. You know him?" Shaun asked.

I remembered how, barely a week ago, I'd fought for the position of the strongest Assassin in front of him. "Yeah?"

"He's dead."

"How?" I exclaimed.

Shaun shook his head. "Heart-attack, I hear. Nothing to do with the Templars."

"So, who leads the Order now?" I asked.

Shaun bit his lip. "… William Miles."

"You've gotta be friggin' kidding me."

"No joke."

I sighed and rested my head against the window. Great. Just great…

Walter tapped my shoulder excitedly. "Look! Sara! There's another flying machine!"

I saw a helicopter pass overhead, no doubt for the weather and traffic report in New York. But then Walter's face was glued to the window again as we passed the skyscrapers.

"He acts like he's never seen a city before…" Shaun muttered.

"The last city he saw was London," I replied with a smile, "back in the eighteenth century."

Shaun looked at me and Walter in surprise. "So, we're in that situation…? The one Rebecca said would happen if…?"

I nodded. "Yeppers."

"Bloody hell. So, Jeremy's…?"

"He must be dead," I said firmly. "There's no other explanation. I'm not even sure if there's a limbo, but if he's stuck in it, he's still dead."

"Poor kid," Shaun muttered. "He was the first person I ever heard call Bill a 'richly-dressed old bastard'."

"Inventive."

"Oh, believe me; there were many other insults, but that was the one I've never heard anyone call Bill before." Shaun looked at the rear-view mirror to Walter. "So… who's the ancestor? Mason?"

I scratched my head. "Well… I'd rather explain it to you and Rebecca, just so I don't have to repeat it."

"He called you Sara."

"So, obviously, he knew me from my time in England."

Shaun smiled. "I like him already. Better to not be the only Brit."

The rest of the drive to the temporary HQ was in relative silence. Sometimes, from the back of the car, we'd hear Walter curse as a motorcycle went by or inhale sharply whenever he saw something that interested him. The funniest part was when we drove by a high school and lots of the girls were wearing mini-skirts. Walter immediately looked away after exclaiming, "Dear God!" and buried his face in the backseat.

This is at least going to be interesting…