The Secret Crusade

22

Stupid Altair. Arrogant Altair. He was in trouble. Majd Addin lay dead at his feet, the wood slowly staining with his blood. At his back were the accused, lashed to stakes and hanging from them, limp and bloody. The square was emptying of spectators, but not of Majd Addin’s guards, who were advancing on him. Approaching the platform. Beginning to climb the steps at either end while blocking him from jumping at the front. With fierce eyes they were slowly hemming him in, their swords raised, and if they felt fear it didn’t show. That their leader had been publicly cut down by an Assassin at Jerusalem’s Wailing Wall gallows had not thrown them into panic and disarray as Altair had hoped. It hadn’t instilled in them a mortal fear of the Assassin who now stood before them, his blade dripping with Addin’s blood. It had given them resolve and a need to exact revenge.

Which meant that things hadn’t gone according to plan.

Except… the first of the guards darted forward, snarling, his job to test Altair’s mettle. The Assassin retreated, parrying the strikes of the Saracen’s blade, steel ringing in the near-empty square. The guard pressed forward. Altair glanced behind to see others advancing and replied with an attack of his own, forcing the Saracen back. One, two, thrust. Forced hurriedly to defend, the guard tried to skip away, almost backing into one of the bodies hanging from the stakes. Altair glanced down and saw his chance, coming forward once again, launching a wild attack aimed at panicking his opponent. Blade met blade and, sure enough, the Saracen was forced messily backwards and into the pool of blood on the platform – just as Altair had intended. He slipped, his footing lost, and for a second his guard was down – enough time for Altair to dart inside his sword arm, impaling him in the chest. He gurgled. Died. His body slipped to the wood, and Altair straightened to face more attackers, seeing doubt and maybe a little fear in their eyes now. The Assassin’s mettle had been duly tested and he had not been found lacking.

Still, though, the guards had the advantage of numbers, and more, surely, would be on their way, alerted by the commotion. News of events at the square would have spread throughout Jerusalem: that the city regent had been slain on his own execution scaffold; that his guards had set upon the Assassin responsible. Altair thought of Malik’s glee at the news.

Yet Malik had appeared changed when Altair had last visited the Bureau. It wasn’t as though he’d welcomed Altair with open arms but, nevertheless, open hostility had been replaced by a certain weariness, and he had regarded Altair with a frown, not a glare.

‘Why do you trouble me today?’ He’d sighed.

Grateful not to have to spar, Altair had told him his target: Majd Addin.

Malik nodded. ‘Salah Al’din’s absence has left the city without a proper leader, and Majd Addin has appointed himself to play the part. Fear and intimidation get him what he wants. He has no true claim to the position.’

‘That ends today,’ Altair had said.

‘You speak too readily. This is not some slaver we’re discussing. He rules Jerusalem and is well protected because of it. I suggest you plan your attack carefully. Get to know your prey.’

‘That I already have,’ Altair had assured him. ‘Majd Addin is holding a public execution not far from here. It’s sure to be well guarded, but nothing I can’t handle. I know what to do.’

Malik sneered. ‘And that is why you remain a novice in my eyes. You cannot know anything. Only suspect. You must expect to be wrong. To have overlooked something. Anticipate, Altair. How many times must I remind you of this?’

‘As you wish. Are we done?’

‘Not quite. There is one more thing. One of the men to be executed is a brother. One of us. Al Mualim wishes him to be saved. Do not worry about the actual rescue – my men will take care of that. But you must ensure Majd Addin does not take his life.’

‘I won’t give him the chance.’

As he’d left, Malik had warned him, ‘Don’t foul this, Altair,’ and Altair had mentally scoffed at the thought as he began the walk to the Wailing Wall.