After an excruciatingly long conversation with my editors and my sister, I've come to the conclusion to not drop this story, but I will be changing so many things about it. I'm dropping some plot ideas for YOUR sakes: so you won't get too confused or bored. And I apologize for those of you who are bored with this story, but this isn't just a romance. Look elsewhere if you just want to read about sex.
And LOL to Kirsche's comment about Assassin's singing. I was having a conversation with Meadjean a few days ago, and we were both wondering what High School Musical songs the characters in my story would sing if they just burst out into song. Any of Sharpay's songs would go to Hildegard, obviously. I think Troy and that Gabriella girl would go to Damiel and R- oh, wait, that's a spoiler! WOOPS XD
Altair and Maria are too cool for High School Musical. So is Malik. Instead, they sing along to Barnie. I love you, you love me, we're a happy fami-
You get it. XD
This chapter took me 8 hours o.o because I had to make Hildegard seem like Hildegard while still showing a bit of concern, but yet I had to keep the mood the same. IT WAS HARD AND I HATE THIS CHAPTER. because i fail. And wowsers, we've got some realizations comin' at us fast, here, people! First Malik and Kadar and Benjamin, and oh, wouldya look at that! Next chapter also has some major discoveries. Oo la la.
ENJOY. AND REVIEW. BUHBYE NOW. .
EDIT: REVISED THE ENDING MALIK, BENJAMIN, MARIA, HILDEGARD, AND ALTAIR SCENE.
"You're sure I can't go?" Damiel whined as he sat down on a crate full of arrows. "What am I supposed to do in the meantime, Benny? Ria's in one of her moods again, you know, being her time of month and all. Can't I come with you? I won't be any trouble, I promise!"
Benjamin chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair. "Not unless you can persuade Robert otherwise, my boy. This is a strictly important mission, and he's only chosen his best to accompany him. Not even Maria was considered, Damiel. Keep that in mind." Of course, he'd never tell the boy that Robert wanted Benjamin along for only the sole purpose of having a source of wisdom. The other four chosen for the mission were to Robert's favorite preferences: dumb but able to carry out orders.
He rolled his eyes and slouched on the crate. "Persuade Robert? You know, that's hilarious, Benny. We both know Mister Tall Dark and French hates me."
"And I wonder why?" he smirked. "After all, what was it that you said to him before?"
"That he was a roasted duck with oily feathers?"
"No," he shook his head, "you said that to Maria and not to his face. I was talking about the other thing that you said. Ahh, was it 'dormirez-vous avec moi ce soir?'" When Damiel groaned and palmed his face, Benjamin chortled, "Yes, I think that was it."
"That was Maria's fault! Sh-she told me to say that to him! I didn't know what it meant!" He crossed his arms when all the man did was laugh. "I don't see what's so funny! I can still feel the bruise he left me after walloping me one right in the face! Hmph!" He scrunched his face together and slouched further on the crate. "Yeah, you laugh all you want to, traidor. I'll remember this."
"And what is it that we're remembering, hm?"
Benjamin looked up from the sulking Damiel to wave in greeting as Maria came striding over to them. He could tell by the frown in her brow that Damiel was right, indeed: her monthly bleeding was aggravating her immensely.
"Oh, I was just telling Damiel to remember behaving himself while I'm gone, is all," he shrugged easily. Maria smirked and gave a friendly pat on the boy's shoulder. "After all," Benjamin sighed, "six and ten year old boys and trouble are two peas in a pod, no?"
Damiel rolled his eyes and groaned in embarrassment again. Maria curled her fingers in his hair and lightly shook his head back and forth. "You'll be going soon, then, Benny?"
"Yes," he grunted. "Robert is still gathering his other men. He'll send for me when he's ready. Now, you two know the drill, correct?"
"Stay out of trouble, don't drink too much wine, stay out of the brothels, don't annoy anyone, listen to Maria, and always carry a weapon," Damiel dully chanted the routine response. "Oh, and don't go trampling through our extra undergarment supply," he chuckled when Maria tilted his head up and down. "How could I forget?"
"And try to stay near the citadel," Benjamin added when Maria jiggled Damiel's head in agreement. "Good, it seems you two remembered. Splendid. Though Acre is home to the Crusaders, every city has its crimes. Maria," he glanced at her, "make sure he doesn't get into another circumstance, hm?"
She scoffed and tightened her fingers in his hair. The memory of Damiel pitching a fight with two drunk and angry Saracens arguing over leftovers was still clear in her mind. "Oh, you have my sincerest of promises that I'll live up to your expectations of babysitter." She grumbled beneath her breath and deepened her frown when she saw Damiel dig his boots in the ground. He was making two small piles of dirt and rock, patting them this way and that with his feet.
"You know I can't control what Robert decides," Benjamin humbly whispered. "Besides, consider this a well earned vacation, my dear."
"Vacation?" she spat. "I don't consider watching over him a vacation, Benny. Especially when he tends to drag his chaperones along—literally." Benjamin offered her a smile to comfort her, but she only glared at him. "Oh, don't even try to make this seem better than what it actually is." She tilted her head to see behind him. "Looks like you've got to get going."
Maria lifted Damiel's head and his eyes narrowed when he saw Robert and his posse of men trailing behind him. "Here comes our favorite bald Frenchman," Damiel mumbled. Benjamin and Maria stood at attention when Robert stopped in front of them. He nodded in salute and smiled fondly at Maria. She averted her eyes.
Benjamin looked between the two and cleared his throat. "We are leaving now, my lord?"
"Oui," he replied. He raised his nose when he sneered at Damiel. He gave a disapproving look at the little piles of handiwork the boy made before turning to Benjamin. "I prefer we make haste. The sooner we arrive at Jerusalem, the better, Benjamin." He inclined his head at Damiel and Maria again. He had to stop himself from throwing another punch at Damiel when Maria twirled his curls around her fingers.
Benjamin gave his two friends pats on their shoulders once Robert left. "I'll be back in a week, you two, so don't try anything stupid when I'm gone. Especially you," Damiel shrunk, "Maria." The woman perked an eyebrow and looked most unimpressed. Benjamin chuckled and knuckled her shoulder before following the five other men. The boy, however, grinned stupidly with his mouth wide open and chuckled. He was most entertained.
Damiel and Maria watched as Benjamin and the others exited the city gate and mounted their horses, then sprinted through the Kingdom.
Damiel leaned back on his crate to look at Maria. A wicked grin spread on his face. "Jerusalem, huh? Think we can stalk them there? You know, find out what all the commotion is about—"
"No," she stated flatly. "Our orders are to stay put, Damiel. Don't forget that I'm Robert's steward. It's my job to keep things in order when he's gone."
He puckered his mouth and bit his lip. "Where did the word 'steward' even come from, Maria?"
"How should I know that? You think I've been alive that long to know the origin of every word?"
"Maybe someone made some stew, and—"
"I do not make Robert stew, Damiel."
"—and it has to be nice stew, too. With nice, juicy chunks of beef and potatoes, some onions, a little bit of parsley, perhaps a loaf of bread or two on the side—"
She moaned and kicked at his piles of dirt. He squawked and folded his arms like a child. "No, no, and no. My job as a steward is not to make Robert stew!"
"Well, why's the word 'stew' in it, then?"
"I. Don't. Know."
"—Maybe a nice cup of milk to wash it down—"
"Will you just be quiet?" she groaned. "I just want to curl up and sleep."
"Sleep? The first thing you want to do on our day off is sleep? Dios, Maria!" He squirmed when she tilted his head up by his hair to look him in the eyes. It didn't hurt, but he was still annoyed.
"Well, Damiel, maybe you should offer a better suggestion." When he jerked his head up with a jolly smile, she crushed his idea with, "And don't even think about asking me to make you stew."
He pouted and tapped his foot impatiently.
"Oh, but think of something to do after you've discovered how painful feminine days can be for women." She let go of his hair and marched away from him. He scratched his head and bounded after her.
"Fine, fine, we'll take a nap—but only a nap, do you hear me! After that, we're going to have some fun later on and actually do something with our lives! And maybe we'll make some stew later! Alright, Maria? Oye, Maria! Are you even listening to me?" When she dutifully waddled away from him with the grace of a beached whale, Damiel stomped his foot and grumbled, "Maldito!"
He was the best man. He was the best man. Of the entire Assassin Order. His chest swelled with pride from the thought. He was better than everyone else and the favorite of the Master. Not even Malik, who was helping his brother saddle his horse, could conquer his title. It was only him, Altair Ibn-La'ahad, who held the Master's most appreciation and attention.
He pulled himself effortlessly onto Farug and smirked down at Malik and his brother, Kadar. "If he does not even know how to tack his own beast, then perhaps he should stay behind and do what he does best: watching those better than him."
Malik paused briefly in his demonstration of buckling a saddle. He breathed through his nose, doing his best to ignore the taunt. Kadar hung his head from the comment and sighed sadly. "Maybe he is right, broth—"
"There, you see? It isn't so hard once you think about it, brother. Just make sure it isn't too tight around the horse, otherwise you won't be able to ride and it'll most likely buck you off." Malik squeezed his brother's shoulder, earning a smile from the younger A-Sayf. "Up you go," he grunted as he helped Kadar up into the saddle. "Easy, relax. Niyaf is a gentle one. She won't hurt you, Kadar."
Altair watched with a smug smirk as Malik mounted his own horse. He urged Farug forward, purposely bumping into Kadar's mount. The novice scrambled in the saddle, grabbing hold of the reins and saddle. Malik swore under his breath and turned to warn Altair to back off, but the man had already dug his heels into Farug's side and was galloping away.
"Pay him no mind, Kadar," he growled as he snapped his reins.
"Maria! Maria, help!" Damiel ran to his friend and gripped her arms as he hid behind her. "The fat man's trying to kill me!"
Maria groaned and scowled as Damiel held her tighter. She just wanted to sleep more; that nap did nothing to help her cramps. Well, she was comfortable and at peace until Damiel decided to jump up and down on her pallet to wake her.
And now the rascal did just what Benjamin told him not to. He'd only been gone for a few hours, and already trouble was brewing.
"There he is!"
The woman squared her shoulders as two burly men mindlessly bumbled toward her. "Fine evening, isn't it, gents?" she said dryly.
"'Ey, lass, step aside!" They stood at least a foot taller than herself and crossed their thick and meaty arms over their chests. "That boy hasn't paid yet, and we don't tolerate any funny business."
"And we've come to collect!" the other one shouted in agreement. Maria sighed and rubbed her forehead. She could feel a headache start to blossom.
"How much?" she grumbled. The two men looked shocked that she'd even consider paying, and, thinking it to their advantage, answered with a 'three gold pieces', and then an 'eight gold pieces'. Maria blinked and nodded. She made to pull her coin purse out, and the men relaxed considerably. However, they never saw the punch coming from the woman, or the kick from the boy.
One of the men's teeth flew right out of his mouth as Maria's fist locked with his jaw. He fell straight on his bottom, while the other fell to his knees to grope a rather sensitive region of the male body. Damiel smirked, obviously satisfied with his work.
"Oy, you'll be holding the boys for a few more hours, too," Maria mused when she added in another kick. "Circular motions usually help. At least, that's what I've heard, of course," she said as she pointedly glanced at her chest. The man growled like the wounded animal he was, but contented himself with doing just as she said.
She yanked Damiel, who was busy sticking his tongue out and snickering at the men, with her away from the tavern. "I thought Benjamin said to avoid trouble?" she asked when they were well away from the scene.
Damiel pouted and jutted his lip at her. "De veras, Maria? As if you didn't enjoy yourself back there!"
"Did I say that I didn't?" She smirked when he slowly bobbed his head up and down, his face breaking into a large and giddy grin. "Come on, now. We can't just traipse around in our uniforms. Benjamin will have our heads if he finds out that we've been misbehaving, and I wouldn't like Robert finding out either."
Camping was by no means a stroll through the Garden. Kadar was clumsy and inexperienced, and when he had tried to dismount his horse, he ended up falling face first into the ground, resulting in him cutting his chin on a stone. Malik was dabbing the wound with a cloth, murmuring to his sibling about being more careful.
Altair snorted to himself as he sat back against the tree, his arms folded confidently in front of himself. He'd like to think that this was only his mission and that Malik and Kadar were sent to go with him only to see how an Assassin should truly act. He'd be sure to show them once they reached Jerusalem. For now, he'd have to settle amusing himself with Malik and his ridiculous brother. How were they even allowed in the Creed?
Malik dug in his saddlebag and pulled out a loaf of bread. He tore it in half and offered the other piece to Kadar, who gratefully accepted. Altair watched in disgust and interest as he shoved the bread into his mouth. When he told him that they would not stop to eat, he could almost hear the novice's stomach sink in his body. Oh well, it wasn't his problem anyway.
Altair narrowed his eyes beneath his hood at the boy, and as if he could sense he did something wrong, Kadar's shoulders slumped. Malik sent a glare at Altair before sitting down next to him beside the fire.
Altair rolled his eyes and snuggled further into the tree. They were talking about nonsense, now, laughing here and there with each other. And of course they never brought him in the conversation—
No. He was the best. He didn't need their company. He didn't need anyone's company. Adha's death was proof of that. He didn't need anyone.
Benjamin wiped the sweat from the back of his neck and slowed his horse down to a trot. His helmet was making the heat even more unbearable. The metal got so hot to a point that it singed his flesh more than once. He lifted the burden off and rode parallel to Robert.
All his French commander told him was that what they were going to retrieve from Jerusalem would determine the winner between the brutal war of Assassin's and Templar's. Benjamin thought they were going to retrieve a woman. After all, marriages strengthened bonds between countries, and if King Richard's army grew, then certainly the Templar's would as well. Was that what they were after?
He wondered if Maria and Damiel were alright. He hoped that the boy didn't go jumping into more situations again. He chuckled aloud from the thought. Robert raised an eyebrow, but Benjamin dismissed the unspoken question with a small shake of his head.
Damiel was certainly one of his kind. He was always laughing, always jesting and getting into Maria's hair. The woman could do with a few harmless pranks and tricks here and there. He noticed a considerable change in her personality ever since she recruited Damiel four years ago, and it was a nice change. She seemed happier and smiled more.
They were both helping each other, in a way. She was teaching Damiel how to trust again, while Damiel was having her relearn the feeling of enjoyment. Benjamin knew that she was too young to kill when she first did—only sixteen summers were on her shoulders! But yet, Damiel was younger when he first shed blood. He only had three and ten years. All the killing, all the dying, all the blood—people shouldn't have to kill in order to resolve conflicts. There were more civilized methods to solve problems other than war, he was certain of that.
But war wasn't completely bad. He'd gained a daughter and a son from the Crusades, after all. Without war, he never would have met Maria or Damiel. He had a family to look after now, something he missed when his wife died and his sons grew older. Now he had pesky Damiel and irritable Maria in his life.
He closed his eyes, mumbling a prayer of 'thanks' to the Lord. He'd be grateful for all eternity for having Damiel and Maria.
The underparts of Solomon's Temple were unstable and being held up by scaffolds that looked like they'd break any moment. Kadar shifted uncomfortably as his feet hit the soft and dank earth of the cavern. It felt too congested in the cavern. The air was stuffy and there were leaks in the ceiling. It made him feel clammy and stiff at the same time.
He didn't like this place, and he could tell Malik didn't either. He kept close to his brother who offered a warm squeeze to his arm. They smiled at each other, both of them nervous for different reasons.
Altair landed neatly without the smallest hint of effort on his part. He strode ahead of the two A-Sayf's as if he knew the place inside and out. Malik muttered as he gently pushed Kadar in front of him. The novice rammed into Altair's back as the man came to an unannounced stop. Kadar immediately hunched his shoulders and murmured an apology when Altair threw his head back to glare at the boy.
Malik strained his ears and followed Altair's lead as they kept their backs to the cavern. They slowly crept toward a corner, stopping just before turning into the new corridor. What they heard was wheezing and panting, most likely from an elderly man.
Altair slowly looked past the corner, smirking when he saw an old man on his knees. His feet were bare as his slippers were scattered in the corridor. He obviously took a fall, and he obviously was in pain.
'Good,' Altair thought to himself. 'Then I shall relieve him of his suffering.' He silently sprung forward, unsheathing his hidden blade just as he leapt onto the man.
He heard Malik hiss from the corner, "Wait! This one need not die!" But he was too late. He grabbed the old man by his hair, yanked him backward, and drove his hidden blade into the tender and wrinkled flesh of his neck. He let the man fall to his side, his eyes lifeless and blood pooling beneath him. With the corners of his mouth twitching with satisfaction, he sheathed his blade with a comforting shink! and made to go ahead.
That is, he would have, had it not been for Kadar.
"An excellent kill," he nervously congratulated, probably as a way to compensate for bumping into him earlier. "Fortune favors your blade." He bowed humbly before Altair, causing his ego to inflate.
"Not fortune," Altair snapped in correction, "skill." Kadar bit his lip. He wasn't going to earn forgiveness any time soon. "Watch a while longer and you might learn something," he haughtily finished.
"Indeed," Malik coldly remarked after seeing his brother internally scold himself. "He'll teach you how to disregard everything the Master's taught us." The hair on the back of Altair's neck rose from the comment.
"And how would you have done it?" he snapped at the man. He crossed his arms over his well-built chest as Malik explained.
"I would not have drawn attention to us. I would not have taken the life of an innocent," he said accusingly as he gestured toward the dead man. "What I would have done is follow the Creed—"
"Nothing is true, everything is permitted," Altair interrupted with a roll of his eyes. He felt power snake its way into him again as he saw Kadar looking back and forth between him and his brother, obviously trying to decide which man to listen to. "Understand these words. It matters not how we complete our task, only that it's done."
"But this is not the way—"
"My way is better," Altair spoke matter-of-factly. It amused him to see Malik's nostrils flare from being interrupted not once, but twice.
"I will scout ahead," Malik finally said as he broke the staredown between himself and Altair. "Try not to dishonor us further." He stayed true to his word as he jogged through the tunnel, leaping across scaffoldings.
Kadar shyly and nervously cleared his throat. The only acknowledgment he earned from Altair was his head looking down at the boy. "What is our mission? My brother would say nothing to me—only that I should be honored to have been invited."
'And honored you should feel,' Altair thought smugly. "The Master believes the Templar's have found something beneath the temple mountain."
"Treasure?" Kadar made a step forward, obviously excited of the idea of diamonds, jewelry, and gold.
"I do not know. All that matters is that the Master considers it important, else he would not have asked me to retrieve it." Kadar didn't miss how the other man emphasized the 'me' in his statement. Sensing that the conversation was at its end, he took a mellow step back and waved for Altair to go ahead. The Assassin threw his head up from the motion and moved through the tunnel.
"Old Matthew should be here by now, shouldn't he?" Benjamin asked as he clambered down the broken shelves and platforms. "We were expecting him to be at the entrance, weren't we?"
Robert furrowed his eyebrows and nodded. "L'alerte de séjour, les hommes."
"Oh, Maria! Tú haces él caliente en los pantalones!" Damiel laughed as he pushed Maria out of the way. Then, without any further warning, his eyebrows tented together and he drew Riva from her sheath on his back. "And I don't like the way you're looking at her, bastardo." He swung Riva horizontally at the guard, his spear clanging noisily against the other man's sword. Quickly changing tactics, he lunged forward with his body and twisted Riva against the blade. He smacked his forehead against the guard's and brought his spear's opposite end down on his shoulder.
The man fell to the ground, crying out as one of Riva's spikes dug through his chainmail and ripped at flesh. Damiel spat on the ground as he scrambled to his feet and ran away. "And don't let me catch you looking at her that way again, basura!" Content that the guard would not come back, he sheathed Riva and smiled at his friend. "Are you hurt?"
Maria stood and dusted her bottom off. "No, no, I'm quite alright. Could have handled him myself, though. I was actually looking forward to a fight," she sighed with disappointment. "You gutted my fun, you weasel."
Damiel shrugged and grinned. "As long as you aren't hurt, then I'm sure we can find some more fun—on my mark!"
"Pardon?" She frowned and placed a hand on her hip. She raised an eyebrow when the boy tensed his muscles. "Augh, I do not want to race, you stupid boy! Did you not understand me when I spoke of feminine pains?"
The boy rolled his eyes and stretched his arms and legs. "Oh, but yet you have the strength to beat a few guards up?"
Maria opened her mouth to defend herself, but she knew that he was right. And she hated it when Damiel was right. Groaning, she reluctantly replied, "Fine. On your mark."
Damiel's face brightened and he sprung back on his feet. "One," he looked over at Maria and smiled, "two," he braced his feet in the ground and swallowed, "three!"
"There! That must be the Ark!"
Kadar peered over the edge of the structure, one hand gripping Malik's arm. His eyes locked on a brilliant golden container. It looked more like a pot with intricate designs on it than the Ark. On closer examination, the table it rested on looked a bit like an altar. Perhaps it was the Ark. He smiled nervously and asked,"The... Ark? Of the Covenant?" Malik nodded and pointed at the object.
"Don't be silly," Altair scoffed as he joined them on the platform. "There's no such thing; it's just a story."
"Then what is it?" Kadar challenged. He could handle Altair picking at his poor abilities like the vulture he was, but when it came down to personal beliefs and opinions, he was not one to stand ridicule.
Altair bared his teeth, insulted that the novice would even consider questioning him, and made to reply. He was cut off when Malik suddenly snapped at the two of them, "Quiet! Someone's coming!" Altair grudgingly followed Malik's and Kadar's suit as they knelt and turned their gaze over to the men entering the room.
"I want us through this gate before sunrise!" The unmistakable foreign accent filled their ears as they continued to spy. "The sooner we possess it, the sooner we can turn our attention to those jackals at Masyaf!"
"Robert de Sable!" Altair stood and backed away from the edge. "His life is mine!" He kept his eyes on Robert as he moved toward the ladder.
"No," Malik interfered, grabbing his arm. "We were asked to retrieve the treasure and deal with Robert only if necessary."
"He stands between us and it!" Altair barked. "I'd say it's necessary."
"Discretion, Altair!"
"You mean cowardice," he challenged with his ever-so arrogant tone. "That man is our greatest enemy, and here we have a chance to be rid of him."
"You have already broken two tenets of our Creed," Malik countered, "now you would break the third. Do not compromise the Brotherhood!"
"I am your superior," he growled, "in both title and ability. You should know better than to question me!" He turned his back to Malik before he could say anything further. He quickly descended the ladders, eager to prove the other man wrong. He was the best. Nothing could hurt him. He'd show them.
"Hold, Templar's!"
Benjamin filed into the room right behind Robert, immediately scanning his surroundings. Nothing was askew, as far as he could tell. He comfortably rested his hand on the hilt of Dynamo, knowing that unfamiliar territory would always be dangerous no matter what.
The other men took their positions in the room, obeying Robert's orders and trying to find a way to retrieve the—treasure?
He came all this way for a ridiculous lump of gold? Benjamin gripped Dynamo tighter. Robert could have pestered someone else about this, certainly. Maybe he should have brought Damiel along. Damiel was good at climbing things. The boy would have that treasure in a heartbeat, and the rest of them wouldn't have to spend hours on end conjuring up a ladder.
Benjamin darted his eye forward as a scuffling sound reached his ears. He knew it: he wasn't alone.
"Hold, Templar's!"
The soldier blinked, not expecting someone to purposely compromise their cover. They were doing a good job staying hidden. Benjamin most certainly wasn't expecting an Assassin, of all people, to come marching over to him and his comrades. Behind the killer were two more men, one obviously more inexperienced than the others. Benjamin started to calculate their strengths and weaknesses, sizing each man up appropriately.
"You are not the only ones with business here!"
"Ah," Robert snickered, obviously anticipating the entrance of the enemy. "Well, this explains my missing man." Benjamin sighed. Matthew was a good soldier—a bit hasty, but a good man. "And what is it you want?" Robert didn't even need to raise his head or straighten his back. He was already a good head taller than the Assassin. Benjamin's fellow soldiers laughed under their breath when the Assassin was forced to tilt his chin up.
The Assassin's blood prickled and boiled beneath his skin. His other two allies stood nearby, one with their legs spread, ready for battle, and the other hanging back.
Altair moved forward, the one word escaping his lips before he lunged at Robert. "Blood." It was a graceful and powerful leap, Benjamin had to say, but it was ruined when the alert Assassin rushed forward and grabbed the other man's arm, a crisp and loud shout of 'NO!' piercing the air.
The Assassin stumbled forward. He still drew his hidden blade, eager to still have Robert's life. He would have tripped right past the man if Robert didn't bring his fist to the Assassin's head, sending him backward. Before he could hit the ground, the Templar Grandmaster grabbed the Assassin's arms, restraining him from any movement. The Assassin desperately jerked his left arm, trying to drive the blade into the man's skull.
Robert leaned forward, teasing the man with how close, yet far, he was away from the blade. "You know not the things in which you meddle, Assassin," he hissed. His mouth was curving into a cruel grin as the man continued to struggle. Finally, having power over the enemy! "I spare you only that you may return to your master and deliver a message: the Holy Land is lost to him and his! He should flee now, while he still has the chance. Stay, and all of you will die."
Tightening his hold on the man's arms, Robert clenched his teeth and grunted as he threw the man into the entry he and his guards had once used. The Assassin tumbled right through a scaffold barely holding the entry in place, and snapped the wood. Pillars and wooden beams collapsed, blocking the entrance.
Benjamin smiled sadly. The Assassin was probably effective in a fight. He was just too brash and impatient. If he worked on that, he'd probably be a better person altogether.
"Men! To arms! Kill the Assassin's!"
"Slow down, you red-necked, belly-flopping, goose hatching twit!" Maria panted as she dashed through the dirtied streets of Acre. "My God, Damiel, why can't you show this much energy when in training?" Slowing down to catch her breath, she leaned against the side of a building. Gasping, she closed her eyes. She felt as if her legs were going to fall off with all the running she'd been doing. It was 'Maria, catch me if you can!' and then 'Hah, you're so slow!' and then 'Come on, keep up with me!' again and again and again. It was too much for her.
The race became a chase when Damiel kept speeding ahead of her and motioning her forward. She grimaced and rubbed her lower back. This was too much for a woman with cramps. But Damiel didn't care, why would he? He just wanted to have some leisure time.
"Oye! What're you doing down there, Maria?"
Maria tilted her head back to see Damiel standing on top of the building. He grinned happily down at her and waved for her to come up. "You've got to be jesting," she grumbled when he remained adamant in his gestures. "There is no way in the world or Heaven that I'm climbing this building."
"Oh, come on, Maria! It isn't so bad—here, I'll help you!"
"Help me?" she asked incredulously. "Help me how? Go find me some nice warm coals for my back if you want to help me! And a nice, comfortable bed with plump pillows! And some hot tea and stew to warm me up!"
"I thought you said you didn't want to make stew, though!" He chuckled and shook his head when she growled. "You really are hard to negotiate with, you know?"
"And you prove more and more difficult to tolerate," she snapped back. "Get your smelly arse down here already. Fun time's over, it's time for bed, Damiel."
"You aren't my mother," he grinned. "You can't tell me what to do."
"Oh, I can't, can I? I'm only your superior, am I not?"
"Yes, but, we're off duty, remember? Like Benny said, this is a vacation for us. So, technically, we aren't part of the Crusades or Templar Order. We're just Damiel and Maria, two people visiting Acre. No titles, no labels, no nothing. Just names."
Maria blew from her mouth and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Damiel, I'm serious. You come down here—" She swiveled her head upward when she heard him shuffling away from the edge of the building. "You aren't leading me on another chase, you little turkey!" He popped his head over the side of the house to smirk at her.
"Watch me."
Kadar couldn't feel his legs as the soldiers charged at him. His hand rattled so much around the hilt of his sword that the weapon shook uncontrollably. He'd never been in an actual fight before. It was only the training ring that he was accustomed to. Whenever a man was wounded too badly to fight, they'd receive care from the healers.
But not that day. No, this was a fight to the death. There would be no words of wisdom from Rauf, no encouragement from his Brothers—
Malik turned just in time to see his brother take a few steps back. He looked like he'd bolt at any moment. The older Assassin shook his head, battling the choice whether to fight or not. Perhaps flight was the answer, and if they could make it back up the ladder in time...
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the grunt of one of the soldiers. The man swung his sword at the Assassin, and Malik barely had enough time to deflect the blow. With their swords locked together, the Assassin unsheathed his hidden blade and plunged it into the man's abdomen. He stared down at the puncture as Malik withdrew the blade from his gut. Blood stained his white tunic, and the soldier slumped to the floor.
He heard Kadar scream, then. Instinct told him to save his brother no matter what, but his training told him to eliminate all other threats first. Gritting his teeth together, he readied himself as another soldier barreled toward him.
He was glad that these soldiers were rushing their opponents. They clearly hadn't taken the time to size them up and had underestimated them. Malik sidestepped away from the man, easily dodging the attack. The Crusader stumbled awkwardly forward, unbalanced by his blade not connecting with anything. Malik plunged his hidden blade into his neck, then roughly threw the corpse into another soldier coming right at him. He barely registered that it was just Robert himself that he'd thrown the soldier into.
Panting and glancing about for his brother, he almost screamed in relief when he saw him climbing the wall and using the footholds to his advantage. If Kadar was good at one thing, it was climbing.
But there was a soldier, broadsword drawn and bloodied, shadowing Kadar's every move from the floor. Malik made to kill the man stalking and waiting for his brother, but Robert chose that exact moment to throw the body of his fallen man off of himself and plant his feet firmly on the ground. The Templar Grandmaster's cheek was bleeding from the fall he took, and he was standing in the way of Malik and his target.
But Robert never had the chance to attack. Malik looked up as Kadar shouted again, and he was horrified at what he saw. He had the treasure in his hand, but he was falling backward on the platform. His foot slipped on the edge and he came tumbling down, the treasure flying from his grasp and hitting Robert in the back of his head. The Templar flew forward, a shout spewing from his mouth, and fell to the floor.
Malik smirked from the scene, but all his mirth was swept away as Kadar landed heavily on his belly with a painful 'oof!' The soldier with the broadsword charged at his brother. He was only a few feet away and—
"KADAR!"
Kadar blinked and groaned. He grunted from the pain and tried to bring himself back up. Every bone ached and every muscle screamed at him to stay put. He did just that when panic gripped his heart. He saw a pair of boots right in front of him, and they didn't belong to his brother.
He closed his eyes as one of the boots turned him on his back. He slowly opened his eyes to gaze into that of his killer. He couldn't bring himself to look at the sword raised above his body, ready to fall and end his life—
"KADAR!" The Assassin refused to look and braced himself for death. But he never felt the stinging bite of the soldier's blade. He heard a snarl, then felt pressure on his neck. His eyes flew open as he saw his brother combating the soldier holding him down with his foot. He could feel his boot crushing his windpipe, slowly choking the life from him.
Malik swung his blade with everything he was worth, rapidly sending strike after strike, only having them blocked just as quickly by the other soldier. He bared his teeth as he desperately fought on, determined to save his brother's life. He was all he had left, he couldn't lose him! All the days teaching him, all the nights spent telling stories, all the meals shared and all the laughter heard! He couldn't, he just couldn't.
The soldier stepped back, unpinning Kadar from his boot. A vertical swing from the Crusader had Malik leap to the side. His heart froze as he did so.
The blade, instead of slicing through Malik, the blade descended and dug itself into another's flesh. Malik felt his knees weaken as the broadsword swept across his brother's neck. The Assassin felt a ringing in his ears as he deftly heard his brother gurgle, his cry for help never sounding, before leaving the world. Shock took hold of his body and had him rooted to the spot, denying his muscles the right to move from the lunge the Crusader made.
The pain is what ripped him from his trance. He screamed, staggering backward and clutching his arm. The blade trailed from his elbow to his wrist, cutting into the flesh and tearing it off. His pupils became pinpoint as he stared at the blood dripping from his left arm, the flesh just dangling there.
"Dios, Maria! I had to climb the tower, barely having any footholds, and I still made it up here faster than you!" Damiel whined as Maira threw open the bolted door and slowly sat down on the floor. "Perhaps running through the stronghold wasn't a good idea," he chuckled.
"No, really? What made you think that?" she spat at him. Her bleeding was killing her. She had to drag herself up the endless flights of stairs, moaning and complaining to herself all the while.
He ignored her comment and sat on the tower's edge. "The ocean is beautiful, no?"
"Mhm, gorgeous, breathtaking, outstanding," she muttered as she crawled into a corner and hugged her knees to herself. "Now can we call it a day and go to sleep?"
He clicked his tongue and shook his head vigorously, frowning at her. "But it's so early yet! We've hours before morning—"
"It's nighttime, you buffoon!"
"Your point is? Maria, we never have time to just relax and enjoy ourselves! It's always, 'start marching', or 'pick up your feet', and my favorite 'you merd of a human, keep pace with us!'" he whined, mimicking Robert's accent. "I just want a little excitement—"
"Oh? Excitement, is it? And no one invited me?"
Maria groaned and hid her face in her knees. "Please, don't tell me that's—"
"Hildegard!" Damiel shouted happily when he looked over the tower's edge. "What brings you to Acre?"
"What brings you up a tower?" she called back from the battlements. "And what's the meaning of not including me in the games?"
"Games?" Maria spat. She stood up then and peered over the tower, shaking her fist in the air. "You want games, you miserable frog? I'll GIVE you games! Get your bloody behind up here, and we'll see who's liking the games—"
"I prefer not to dirty myself up," Hildegard sniffed, absently examining her hands. "Perhaps you should come down here, instead?"
"HAH! When pigs fly, you backward gangplank!" Maria viciously shouted back. "You probably can't even CLIMB a tower! Well, pity on you! Shame, shame!" She tilted her head to the side when she noticed a furry being wagging its tail beside Hildegard. "Oh, and what's this? Stealing my dog, are you? Now you have more reason to settle this out with me face to face!"
"Dear, you shouldn't keep opening your mouth," Hildegard sighed as she scratched Bayo behind the ears. "I'd hate it if you swallowed any pigeon droppings from up there."
"What did you say? WHAT DID YOU SAY? How about you say it to my face, you—DAMIEL!" Maria screamed as the boy's arms wrapped around her waist, carrying her as he dashed the short distance to the narrow wooden ledge sticking out from the tower. "What are you—YOU IDIOT!" She screamed bloody murder as the boy leapt from the ledge to land in the cart of hay below.
He did the only thing he could do to survive. He ran. Pumping whatever energy he had left in his muscles, he ran the distance to the treasure lying only two or three yards from Robert. Scooping the sphere in his his only good hand, he climbed the ladders out of the cavern. Tears streaked his sweaty and dirty face as he left his brother behind.
Benjamin watched as the Assassin fled. He sighed, choosing not to give chase. Too much blood was already shed that day, and no more casualties needed to be added. Sheathing Dynamo, he knelt and slowly pulled the hood back from the Assassin at his feet. He recoiled instantly, his eyes widening upon the sight.
He was just a boy still, maybe a year or two older than Damiel. His lifeless dark blue eyes stared right at him. The Assassin was frozen forever into that terrified face. Benjamin took a step back, slowly shaking his head in disbelief. The killer was hoping with everything he was worth that his brother would save him, and Benjamin, he... he murdered someone.
It was not an honorable kill, nor an intentional one. He blinked, bringing his hand up to his face as shame tugged at him. What had he just done? Who was the heartless killer now? He stared silently at the boy, not even acknowledging Robert as he groaned and finally stood up from his heap on the floor. The Templar Grandmaster rubbed the back of his head, looking back and forth between Benjamin and the other remaining soldier.
"Well?" he demanded. "Where is the treasure?" When Benjamin kept quiet, the other man timidly answered with an 'it's gone, m'lord'. Robert's fury escalated to that of a raging volcano's as he filled the cavern with a morbid and gruesome 'WHAT?'
"The Assassin escaped," Benjamin murmured. "Your orders, sir?"
"What do you think my orders are?" Robert snarled as he stormed over to Benjamin. "Why, let's all just head back to Acre empty handed! Let's just all pretend that none of this ever happened and that the Assassin's never showed! Let's just all hold hands and act like everything is fine!" He spat at the corpse on the ground. Benjamin winced.
"I was merely asking, my Lordship," the man sighed. "Will you pursue the Assassin?"
"Of course I will pursue the Assassin! But I don't think I'll be wanting you along with me, Benjamin. Did you let the man escape?" Benjamin averted his eyes. Robert's mouth twitched as he grabbed the man by his throat. "I said: did you let the man escape?"
"No, Robert," Benjamin choked. "I was preoccupied with the Assassin lying only a foot from you, my liege."
Robert roughly removed his hold from Benjamin's neck. "The next time you fault, Benjamin, I may be the one to remove your other eye. You!" He pointed at the other guard. "You and I ride for Masyaf. We will gather whatever men we can on the way, even removing them from their posts if we must! And you," he turned toward Benjamin, "I want you at Acre. You disappointed me today, Benjamin. You belong with that foreign dog you call friend."
Benjamin bowed his head and murmured a 'yes'. He stayed in the cavern until he was certain Robert and the other Crusader left. When only he remained, he looked back at the lifeless boy.
Altair looked at Rauf in question at what Malik had just said. "Explain yourself, Brother," he grounded out. Malik was still writhing and jerking his body this way and that, even with Rauf helping to restrain him.
"Why don't you ask him!" he barked. Maria stood protectively in front of Benjamin, her face flushed and eyes glowing with merciless hatred.
"I think you're in need of more explanations than he is," she snapped. "After all, you're the one behaving like an animal!"
Malik thrust his body forward, almost breaking free of Altair and Rauf. "I need not say a word in front of that yebnen kelp!" He attempted again, slamming forward with such force that had Rauf smack into one of the bookshelves. A few books and scrolls fell, some dangerously teetering on the edges of their shelves. "So what did you do to him afterward, you khara?"
Benjamin balled his hands into fists and grimly replied, "Nothing."
"Oh? Who do you think you're trying to fool, you," he paused when Altair threatened to break his only arm, "you kalb!" He actually did fling himself forward successfully. Altair almost choked when he saw Maria tense and brace herself to fend off Malik. If he couldn't do it, he very much doubted that she could, even if she was a strong woman.
He felt lightheaded as Malik was only a foot away from her—"
"Sic!"
Bayo responded immediately to the command. He sprung himself forward, knocking right into Malik and sending him on his backside. The dog pounced onto him, growling and baring his teeth at the man. He kept his paws planted firmly on his shoulders, using all his weight to keep him down.
Altair wasted only a fraction of a second to feel relief before he pinned Malik down as well.
Maria followed suit by sitting on the man's knees. She heard Benjamin take an intake of breath, probably about to say something—
"Oh, Maria! Oh, there you are! Mustafa and I have been looking for you most everywhere, and here we find you—" Hildegard paused as she stood in front of the men, woman and dog. "What in the name of my undergarments is going on here?"
Maria snorted and winced when Malik shot a knee into her bottom. "Why don't you ask around, Hildegard? I'm sure there are plenty of volunteers just waiting to explain to you," she humorlessly remarked. Hildegard looked to Benjamin for an answer.
"I gave him a proper burial," the veteran finally whispered, "fit for any fallen Brother."
"He was no Brother to you—he was my brother!" Malik screeched from his position on the floor. "Have you ever lost someone right in front of you? Knowing that it was your fault? Knowing that you should have never dodged the attack?"
Benjamin closed his eyes and bowed his head.
"No, you haven't! Don't even try to save your sorry life with the excuse of 'I gave him a proper burial'!"
Maria blinked. "But he did," she murmured. She looked away at the bookshelf as she lost herself in thought. "He did, though," she stated again, more for her reassurance. "I was there—so was Hildegard. And Damiel—"
"Did you say 'Damiel'?" Rauf asked with a shocked expression on his face.
Maria nodded and continued, "And Bayo was there, too, as a matter of fact. Benjamin," she looked up at him, "you said the prayers and burned the body."
"Pardon?" Hildegard stubbornly put her hands on her hips. "Maria, perhaps I heard you incorrectly, but, did you say that I was at this funeral? I'm sorry, love, but I only do weddings and births, not funer—"
"You were there," Benjamin said in a hushed tone.
"Do you mean that corpse you dragged back with you after Solomon's Temple?" Hildegard bluntly asked. Malik grunted from the floor. "The boy that you insisted we send to the next life?"
"Yes, Hildegard. The boy I brought back with me from Solomon's Temple."
"Now, you know never to run away again, don't you?" Maria scolded as she held onto the horse's reins. "You be a good girl and munch on your hay like what horses are supposed to do. No more chasing rabbits, hm?" She pat the beast on the neck, smiling from the ridiculous chase the animal gave her. In some ways, it was worse than Damiel. Chuckling, she kissed the velvety muzzle and offered a carrot. The horse gobbled it up in a heartbeat.
"Eugh, no wonder you're Hildegard's horse. You're both little gluts," she blandly stated. She turned her head as the sound of another horse reached her ears. She smiled when she recognized the rider to be no other than Benjamin. "Of course you show up when the struggle's over, Benny!" she laughed playfully.
He guided his mount right past Maria. She frowned when she saw a cloaked bundle also on the saddle. Giving a final pat to Hildegard's horse, she jogged over to her friend. He dismounted and leaned his forehead against the saddle.
"Benjamin?" She placed a hand on his shoulder, gasping when she felt him heaving. "Are you—is everything alright? Benjamin, speak to me!" She pulled on his shoulder and he faced her. She frowned and opened her mouth when she saw tears spilling from his eye. "Benjamin, what happened?" Maria placed a warm hand on his cheek.
"God strike me down," he breathed out, "for I have sinned more than a man could ever in one lifetime."
"Benjamin, what are you talking about? Are we under attack? Did the Assassin's do this to you? Why won't you—" She gasped as he lifted a small corner of the cloak, exposing a deathly pale and horrified face. "Benjamin?" she whispered.
"He was just a boy," he whimpered, leaning his head against Maria's shoulder. "I didn't know until he was dead, and—and—it was all my fault—his brother was there, and I—I killed him, not even knowing—"
Maria's arms held Benjamin to herself as he wept into her shoulder. "Benjamin, it isn't your fault, you didn't know, you were only following orders—"
"I killed a boy today, Maria," he argued. "I killed an innocent person. God, what have I done? I might as well have killed Damiel!"
"Don't say such things, Benjamin Mills," she warned. She pulled him back to look him in the eyes. "If you believe that you have sinned, then repent—"
"Maria, look at him."
She held Benjamin's gaze for brief seconds before locking her eyes with the dead Assassin's. Her grey stayed on his dark, nearly-black, blue eyes. Her jaw fell slack as she could feel her eyelids prickling with tears.
"I took his life without a second thought," Benjamin shakily said as he covered his face with his hands. "And what if it was Damiel that died? What if... what if we fail to keep him safe? What would that make of us? What would we feel? What would his killers feel?"
Maria sucked her bottom lip in as she hesitantly ran her hand through the boy's hair. "How did—" Her question was answered as she trailed her hand down his neck. She felt the dried and crispy line of blood from the slash on his throat. "Oh, God..." She felt her insides twist and turn from the idea of being almost beheaded.
"I plan on giving him a proper and fit burial," Benjamin announced. He cupped his hands around his nose and closed his eyes. "Go and bring Damiel," he whispered.
Maria blinked and shook her head. "What? Y-you can't be serious, Benjamin! This is nothing he should see!"
"And this," he motioned toward the corpse, "is nothing anyone should go through. Children do not deserve to experience war or the consequences of lifting a blade!" His voice grew harder as he straightened his shoulders. "I know it is nothing for him to see, Maria. But this boy deserves to be recognized and laid to rest. Now, go, and bring Damiel."
She sighed and inclined her head. "What of Hildegard and Bayo, Benjamin?"
"Bring them as well. I want them to see what war and hatred brings," he snarled. Maria nodded and hurried off to do as he told. Benjamin glanced at the body again, his face crinkling together as he choked, "I am so sorry."
The five of them watched silently out of respect as flames licked away at the raft. Hildegard bowed her head, murmuring a prayer beneath her breath. Maria had her hands clasped in front of her, staring at the burning coffin.
"Quaesumus in paradiso pax, Frater," Benjamin prayed aloud. "Dimitte nobis peccata fecimus vobis et vicissim interrogo veniam a Domino est."
Damiel never took his eyes off the raft. He swallowed the lumps in his throat in an attempt to subside the anger coursing through his veins. He saw the body before it burned, saw how the corpse couldn't have been more than two years older than himself. His fists shook violently.
"Nos quinque nos memorabitur tui usque ad diem mortis suscipe. Fratresque recordabuntur vos, pro vobis et pugnaverunt viriliter bene. I nunc, ut in armis Dei tui. Amen."
Damiel whirled around and raged through the docks once Benjamin had concluded his prayer and pocketed the necklace he'd found on the body. He felt close to tears as he felt someone grab his arm. He whipped backward, intent on slugging the interloper—
"Damiel?" Maria. Of course, it had to be Maria.
"Just let me go," he hissed as he shook her hand from him. "I don't want to hear it."
"Damiel, please, just listen to—"
"NO!" He turned on her, then, pacing up to her with a gruesome and terrible face. "YOU listen to ME! Is this the end, then?" he motioned toward the raft. "Is that what we'll end up as? Ash? Is that what we're fighting for?"
"Damiel, what are you—"
"Is this all that we're looking forward to? Lying dead on a burning piece of wood? Well, I won't have it! I won't serve a cause just to have my neck slashed open!" He backed away from Maria when she took a step forward. "NO! J-just stay away from me! All of you!" he added when he saw the others behind her. "You all lied to me! You said that I'd be free by joining the Templar's! Well, all I see is another form of enslavement! Only this time, we're held prisoner by our beliefs, and will only have the shackles removed from our wrists when we die!"
Maria sighed and closed her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Damiel—"
"I don't want to hear your apologies!" he shrieked. His lower lip quivered. "I don't want to be around you people any longer! You're poison, do you hear that? You are all poison! You're waiting to grow close to me just so that when you die, you can watch from the Heaven you believe in as I suffer! Well, I won't just stay put and allow that to happen! I—"
"Damiel, please, stop," Maria sniffed as she flung her arms around the boy, pulling him into a tight and almost choking embrace. "Not another word, Damiel, not another word." She felt him shake and struggle to hold back his cries, but soon he couldn't. He shamelessly clung onto her, grabbing her tunic in his hands and burying his face into her shoulder. She felt his tears soak through the fabric, as well as her own.
"Please, don't leave me, Maria," he managed to choke out. "Please, don't ever leave me alone."
"I won't, Damiel, I won't," she whispered back. She felt more arms wrap around her as Hildegard and Benjamin joined in on the embrace.
"We're your family now, Damiel, and we aren't going anywhere."
Behind them, in the distance of the port, the fire finally finished consuming its host. Smoke replaced the flames reaching for the sky.
Benjamin breathed in through his mouth as his nose became stuffy from crying. "Your brother was not disgraced after I killed him. He went on to the next life with our blessings, as well as God's."
The man on the floor swallowed hard, his muscles slowly relaxing. Malik's occasional tantrums died down from the explanation. He blinked, trying to see through the tears, but decided such efforts were pointless. He'd blamed Kadar's death on Altair for the past three years, but never once did he ever consider that it just... was. And now, admitting that to himself...
His eyes were screwed shut as one tear after another slid down the sides of his face.
"That's why your eyes were so familiar," Maria drawled quietly. "They're the same as his."
"His were blue," Malik corrected. "Dark blue."
"Blue, brown, what does a color have to say about what an eye actually holds?" She bit her lip and fisted her hand in her lap. Her anger soon melted into sorrow as tears formed. Her eyes widened when Altair's hand closed over her own. She saw him through the blur of her tears and eyelashes. He was staring at the floor, appearing to be deep in thought.
Glancing to and fro the men in the room with her beady eyes, Hildegard tapped her foot impatiently. She threw her hands in the air and rolled her eyes. "I hate to interrupt this touching moment, but I believe we are forgetting something." When no one made to even look at her, she grumbled, "Two apologies, perhaps?"
"No," Benjamin placed a hand on her shoulder. "He does not need to apologize for acting the way he did. I would have reacted the same, if it was my brother who was killed."
"You don't have a brother," Maria murmured. Altair squeezed her hand.
"No," he agreed, "but Franklin is like a brother to me anyway, isn't he?"
Hildegard shoved her way over to Malik and looked down at him. "Well, what about you, hm? Do you want an apology from him?"
Malik swallowed and opened one eye to glare at her. "He killed my brother," he stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "and stole what little meaning to life I had." His nostrils flared as he reasoned aloud, "I also lost an arm because of him. Do you know what else I've lost due to no longer having that limb? No? I've lost the privilege to take on missions, I've lost the right to wield the Assassin's symbolic weapon, and I have also suffered endless ridicule and unnecessary torment from my Brothers."
"I cannot balme you for-"
"And furthermore," Malik raged on, "I can still feel my arm, though it is not there. Do you know how much it haunts me? Day and night? No, you don't. Do you have a constant reminder of your past faults a part of you? Do you know the feeling of loneliness, believing that everything you've held dear is gone, yet knowing that only finding new reason to live is the only way to survive?"
Maria, without any warning, sprang up from the floor to stare horrors into Malik's eyes. "That's enough from you. You think you're the only victim here? You honestly think you're the only one who's ever lost someone? Look at us, Malik. Benjamin's lost his eye due to Assassin's, Hildegard's lost a family because of fighting for what she believes in-"
"I don't think it's appropriate to include me in this, Maria-"
"No, Hildegard!" She pointed right at the woman. "You shut your mouth and listen to me! We've all lost loved ones: brothers, sisters, and sons alike. We've all dealt with grief and pain in our lives, but what is the point of bringing more suffering? What good will come of hating someone for something they had no control over?" Her shoulders fell. "If forgiveness won't be earned today, then that's your loss. But I don't want to be around to hear any more arguing and bickering. God strike me down now if both of you are content to feed the devils inside of you, for the Snake lives in all of us."
She waited for the words to sink in. The men were stunned; Rauf was even speechless, his mouth hanging open. Benjamin had his eye fixed on Malik, the man choosing to stare up at the ceiling as if something mythical were to happen.
Altair could only hide his admiration as he took in her courage. It was a welcoming sight to see her square her shoulders again and force sense into his and her friends. He could feel hope, the ever fickle thing it was, poke at him and whisper encouragingly in his ear.
"No, I do not want an apology," the Assassin finally murmured, "but rather an understanding. Do not think that all is forgiven and forgotten—forgiven, maybe, in time. Forgotten? Never.
"If you cross my path, I will not hesitate to make it known to you that I do not like your stay in Masyaf." Altair and Maria both tensed from his words.
"Forgiveness is all I ask for," Benjamin carefully said. "And I do not expect forgiveness in one day. If I must wait years for it, then I will."
"Years?" Malik snorted contemptly. "If you think only years, I hope you'll be dead when I change my mind."
"And in death he'll carry his regret," Maria hissed back. "You honestly think we enjoy taking life-"
"Let him up," Benjamin said, pointedly turning a shoulder toward Maria and fixing his eye on Altair. "He will not attack." He slowly stood from the ground, half expecting Malik to prove Benjamin's theory false. "Maria, be a dear and fetch my saddlebag, would you?"
She frowned, irritated by his tone. 'And this is what becomes of those who succumb to cruelty.' She jerked her head up and down and followed his orders.
"Go with her, Hildegard," he said quietly. She nodded enthusiastically and almost skipped with joy from finally breaking free of the ever-growing tension in the room.
"And what do you call that, Maria?" Hildegard laughed as they entered the smithy. Maria hauled Benjamin's saddlebag in her arms and raised an eyebrow at her friend.
"Call what, Hildegard?"
"That! Dragging me into that conversation when I had nothing to do with—"
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," she bit.
"Oh, I'm sure you don't! Perhaps you'd like to tell me why you are such a hypocrite? Saying to love instead of to hate when you can't even bring yourself to love that man!"
Maria whirled around and almost slammed her forehead into Hildegard's. "I don't know what you're talking about." She stormed away from her then.
"Oh, so trying to avoid me, are you?" She sniffed and followed Maria as she left the armory and trudged back up the courtyard. "Well, I know what I saw in your eyes, and what I saw was—"
"Save your fantasizing for you and Aden, alright?" she snapped. Hildegard pretended the words had no effect on herself, but Maria knew she just dealt a low blow. She jogged through the foyer and back up the steps to the study.
Altair glanced at Maria, hoping that she'd choose to stand next to him instead of beside Benjamin. But she avoided meeting his eyes by focusing on the saddlebag Benjamin was rifling through. Malik, now no longer on the floor, moved over to stand directly in front of Benjamin.
"Oh, where did this old man put it—it's in here somewhere..."
"Put what, Benjamin?" Hildegard asked in an attempt to relieve the thickness in the air. She smoothed her skirts casually. "If it's that stale bread, Maria probably ate it—"
"And if there happened to be a shitload in there, Hildegard probably used it as her makeup," Maria snapped back, not liking her friend's attitude. A glower was shared between the two women.
"Ah, here it is," Benjamin whispered triumphantly.
Maria and Hildegard both swiveled their heads at each other and held the same confused and perplexed look. "Did we miss something?" Maria asked hesitantly.
"Oh, dear, you always miss something," Hildegard coolly said. "Like when you missed the chamberpot the other evening and instead dumped a load onto the floor."
"And I suppose you aren't at fault with your own mishaps, Hildegard?" She shoved Benjamin out of the way as she closed the distance between herself and the other woman. "Maybe you'd like to share how you mistook Bayo's loads for kibbeh?"
Hildegard gasped and raised a hand to her chest in horror.
"If you two don't mind," the Englishman growled at them. Maria looked furious from receiving public scolding, and Hildegard meekly mumbled an apology. Rolling his eyes, Benjamin pulled out a small pendant from the bag and held it out for Malik. His and Altair's eyes widened in recognition. Malik shakily took the necklace and stared at it in his palm.
"But, this... this is..."
"It was his," Benjamin said. "I found it on his person, and—"
Malik's head snapped up to stare him down. "Why did you take it?"
"It serves the purpose of, shall we say, a collar, correct?"
"Correct," Malik growled, "but why would you take it without the hopes of finding an Assassin to return it to?" He took a step closer to him and scrutinized the Englishman. "What kind of a man are you?"
Benjamin didn't hesitate to give him the same calculating stare. "A kind of man who knows what honor and loyalty are." There was silence as Malik, still red in the face and furious, slowly nodded, seeming to find no lie in the man's words. Benjamin wasn't sure if he believed him or was accepting the gift for what it was.
He closed his hand around the arrow-shaped ornament on the necklace. He silently walked away from the study, stopping just at the head of the stairs. "Kadar is at last home now." Malik spared a glance at Altair who was now standing next to him. The Master of Assassin's placed a hand on his shoulder and bowed his head out of respect.
"He has always been home, Brother," he said just loud enough for only Malik to hear. The one-armed Assassin's face softened for a brief moment. Altair understood the sign as a 'thank you', and he allowed his friend to take his leave of the study. He watched Malik until the man descended the stairs and and stepped into the courtyard with more on his shoulers to carry than any man should.
Altair nodded at Benjamin, approving of the man. Benjamin gave a small, tired smile as a response.
"Well," Hildegard shouted, snapping the two men from their quiet acceptance and ignoring the Death Maria tried to send her, "I don't know about anyone else, but this dreariness is starting to discolor my evening. And it's built up quite the appetite." Growls from several stomachs were heard, encouraging Hildegard to continue. Each of those responsible for the sounds stared in shame at their feet, save for Altair.
"Yes, well, while you all were remembering that terrible day at Solomon's Temple, I was in the kitchen, and, me being me and having all the staff absolutely adore me, the cooks agreed to prepare dinner a bit early. Yes, I know, you can all thank me later—"
Maria placed her hand over Hildegard's mouth. "Either hinder or help, Hildegard. Don't play on the sidelines by choosing both," she warned. Hildegard smacked her hand away and raised an eyebrow.
"Eager to hear my words, now, hm?"
Maria rolled her eyes and all but shoved Hildegard in front of herself. "I believe we're all quite famished," she hissed into her ear, "so you'd best do your job and lead on." Hildegard huffed, but decided that crossing Maria at that moment was a fool's choice. She blew from her mouth and linked her arm around the other woman's as they made their way to the kitchen, an unusually mellow Bayo following close behind.
Altair, blinking and watching Maria, decided that his stomach could use some food as well. He quietly padded forward, but stopped when Benjamin placed a hand in front of him.
"After dinner, good man, meet me in the garden. There's something I'd like you to hear."
Altair cocked his head to the side and frowned. "And what would that be?"
"I've fought my ghosts today," Benjamin sternly said, "I believe it's time you and Maria fight your own."
Translations:
dormirez-vous avec moi ce soir: will you sleep with me tonight?
Traidor: traitor
Oui: Yes
Dios: God
Oye: Hey
Maldito: Damn
De veras: Oh really?
L'alerte de séjour, les hommes: Stay alert, men.
Tú haces él caliente en los pantalones!: You make him hot in the pants!
Bastardo: bastard
Basura: trash
Merd: shit
Yebnen kelp: son of a bitch
Khara: shit
Kalb: dog
Quaesumus in paradiso pax, Frater: We pray you find your peace and paradise, Brother.
Dimitte nobis peccata fecimus vobis et vicissim interrogo veniam a Domino est: Forgive our sins, for we have done you may, and ask for forgiveness from the Lord above.
Nos quinque nos memorabitur tui usque ad diem mortis suscipe. Fratresque recordabuntur vos, pro vobis et pugnaverunt viriliter bene. I nunc, ut in armis Dei tui. Amen: We, the five of us, shall remember you until the day we die. And your Brothers shall remember you too, for you fought valiantly and well. Go, now, so that you may be in the arms of your God. Amen.
FF, Funfact (not really). I've noticed that authors love to steal other author's works. Now, I'm not saying any names, but a few knuckleheads at college... Really? Don't even try to claim Damiel as your own (Meadjean will eat you), and I will END YOU. kthnksbai :D