It took several days before the Templar was recovered enough to be questioned. Most of those days, Altaïr was only possible to treat his wounds by bribing Sibrand with food and water. It took a lot of his patience not to lose it and injury the man any further.
Till so far, it seemed that the Templar didn't know what was awaiting him, or he wasn't showing this knowledge. He did however asked a few times when he was going to released, maybe expecting to be exchanged for money or Assassin prisoners with the Templars. The Syrian kept his mouth shut about any of that, actually to most questions that Sibrand asked him.

In the past few days, Altaïr had gathered more and more information. He knew that Sibrand had gotten orders to get intelligence about the Assassins but because it was very secret, he had to do it himself instead of ordering one of the soldiers to do it. Sibrand hadn't known for what he was looking, he was just told to figure out how hard or easy it was to get into the castle and how many people there were around there. He was supposed to write every information on a piece of paper and give it to the messenger that would come three days later.

Well, not all of this information was gathered by bribing, a part of it was due to smart talking, trying to lure the other into revealing details about his failed attempt to break in. Of course the Syrian had given all the information to Al Mualim. But he still deemed it to be necessary to question the prisoner.
And today was that day. Altaïr had heard it last night from him, to get the Templar ready and to one of the deepest and darkest parts of the dungeons. That morning, he was up early to go to the cells, Sibrand was still asleep. For a very short moment, Altaïr felt a bit of pity for the man who was still completely oblivious to what would happen to him in just a matter of hours.

In all those years, he had never had problems with killing someone, just someone without knowing their story or life. No more than walking targets. But after a few days he had learned to know the Templar, although he was still rude and a Templar, his father had taught him always to kill quickly and without any additional pain. 'Questioning' a prisoner didn't follow that code. The Syrian was really starting to think that Sibrand had told them everything about the break in, that it wasn't necessary to torture him.
But what Al Mualim said was practically the same to the law and even Altaïr didn't tore to that. For today, he hadn't brought any bread of medical supplies, that wouldn't be useful. But when opening the cell, he started to doubt that, Sibrand was surely notice the change and maybe start to panic. And panicked people were dangerous, it would be a lot easier to get him to walk to the torture chambers without any problems.

The blue eyed man looked up from the straw bed, frowning slightly when he got handed the cup without having to answer a load of questions. But he quickly drank from it. After about three days, he had given up that possibility of Altaïr poisoning him. He still believed that some other Assassin would kill him somehow, even the Syrian but only not by poison.

A while after drinking the water and looking at Altaïr over the edge of the cup, he opened his mouth. ''Where's the bread?'' he asked, his voice again full of suspicion. The Syrian shook his head, water is what the German needed, food would only make him throw up. ''Not today'' his short reply sounded.
The Assassin was still standing at the door, making no attempt to check the injuries. Sibrand was starting to notice something was really off today. Altaïr took the cup back and turned around to leave again. He was almost out when the Templar spoke up. ''Assassin, what's going on?'' he asked, his voice cold but at the same time a small shiver in it, as if he already knew the answer.

The Syrian stopped. It would be so much easier if Sibrand was still calm when transported to that part of the dungeon. He had to think of an excuse. ''The well is almost dry, water is only for drinking now, not for bread and not for cleaning wounds''
It was a pathetic lie, there was always more than one well to get water from and if there was a shortage, any prisoners would be the first ones to get less or no water at all. But the Templar seemed to believe it.

It would be better to take the Templar there straight away before his mind figured the truth out. Altaïr took a rope, hanging on the opposite side of the corridor and walked back into the cell. The German took a step back, confused and suspicious.
Altaïr went towards him, feeling like he had to catch a startled horse. ''Calm down, Templar. You're just going outside to help the villagers dig a new well'' he said, while tying his hands together, holding the end of the rope in his own hand. With a piece of cloth, he effectively blinded the prisoner, who started to panic because of that.
He froze on the spot, not moving anymore, trying to reach up with his hands to pull the cloth away from his eyes. ''Your eyes aren't used to sunlight anymore'' Altaïr said to give the reason why blinding him. ''They won't get used to it either if you blind me'' Sibrand snarled with a bit of fear for the unknowing.
Instead of continuing to talk, Altaïr tugged on the rope, just hard enough to make the Templar walk a few hesitant steps. Making sure the German wouldn't walk into something, he looked over his shoulder every few meters.
-

Without having his hands free and not able to see anything, Sibrand was dependent on Altaïr. It seemingly unnerved him, taking careful steps after testing the ground under it.
His world was black, the only thing that kept him moving was the raffled rope around his wrists. As many times as he tried to get the cloth away, as many times he failed doing so. He didn't trust the Assassin, he could kill him any moment. It actually surprised him that he hadn't already. Until now, everything seemed to be okey, he got food and water and his injuries were taken care off.
But this time, he had only gotten water and the excuses the Syrian was making weren't really good ones. Sibrand wasn't sure what the man was up to yet, but the news of getting outside again was great news. He couldn't wait to be out of this dark dungeon.

It seemed like it was getting colder, he didn't feel the warmth on his skin of the sun and he didn't hear voices. Strange, if there was a well that had to be made, he assumed there had to be at least 10 other men. His pace slowed down until the tug on the rope stopped. For a moment he thought he was alone, that the Assassin had released the rope and abandoned him in the middle of nowhere, tied up and blinded. A small bit of panic went through his veins, just before hearing a door open and the rope was tugged again.
''Where are we going?'' he asked, not sure why he wasn't outside yet. It seemed like the way back was a lot longer than the way in. The Syrian wasn't answering but Sibrand could hear him breathing. Then there were footsteps towards the place they were coming from, the Assassin was walking away. When the German tried to follow him, he noticed that the rope was tied up to something. ''Where are you going?'' his next question sounded, a bit higher than normal.

He managed to pull the blindfold off and could just see the Syrian walking the last few paces towards the door, starting to close it. Just before the last bit of light disappeared, Sibrand heard the now familiar voice of the Assassin. ''May your God have mercy on your soul'' the words cut like cold daggers through the air, just before the door closed, leaving Sibrand alone in the unknown dark place.