The Secret Crusade

31

De Sable gasped. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, hands going to the blade that impaled him, even as Altair withdrew it. A red stain spread across his tunic, and he staggered, then sank to his knees. His sword dropped and his arms dangled.

Straight away Altair’s eyes went to the men forming a ring around them. He was half expecting them to attack at the sight of the Templar Grand Master dying. But they remained still. Past them Altair saw King Richard, his chin tilted as though the turn of events had done little more than pique his curiosity.

Now Altair bent to de Sable, cradling him with one arm and laying him on the ground. ‘It’s done, then,’ he told him. ‘Your schemes – like you – are put to rest.’

In response, de Sable chortled drily. ‘You know nothing of schemes,’ he said. ‘You’re but a puppet. He betrayed you, boy. Just as he betrayed me.’

‘Speak sense, Templar,’ hissed Altair, ‘or not at all.’ He stole a look at the men of the ring. They remained impassive.

‘Nine men he sent you to kill, yes?’ said de Sable. ‘The nine who guarded the Treasure’s secret.’

It was always nine who had that task, the responsibility handed down through generations of Templars. Almost a hundred years ago, the Knights Templar had formed and made the Temple Mount their base. They had come together to protect those making the pilgrimage to the holiest of holies and lived their lives as warrior monks – or so they maintained. But, as all but the most gullible knew, the Templars had more on their minds than helpless pilgrims. In fact, they were searching for treasure and holy relics within the Temple of Solomon. Nine, always, were tasked with finding it, and nine had finally done so: de Sable, Tamir, de Naplouse, Talal, de Montferrat, Majd Addin, Jubair, Sibrand, Abu’l Nuqoud. The nine who knew. The nine victims.

‘What of it?’ said Altair carefully. Thoughtfully.

‘It wasn’t nine who found the Treasure, Assassin,’ smiled de Sable. The life force was seeping fast from him now. ‘Not nine but ten.’

‘A tenth? None may live who carry the secret. Give me his name.’

‘Oh, but you know him well. And I doubt very much you’d take his life as willingly as you’ve taken mine.’

‘Who?’ asked Altair, but he already knew. He understood what it was now that had been bothering him. The one mystery that had eluded him.

‘It is your master,’ said de Sable. ‘Al Mualim.’

‘But he is not a Templar,’ said Altair, still not wanting to believe. Though he knew in his heart it was true. Al Mualim, who had raised him almost as his own son. Who had trained and tutored him. He had also betrayed him.

‘Did you never wonder how he knew so much?’ pressed de Sable, as Altair felt his world falling away from him. ‘Where to find us, how many we numbered, what we aspired to attain?’

‘He is the Master of the Assassins…’ protested Altair, still not wanting to believe. Yet… it felt as though the mystery was finally solved. It was true. He almost laughed. Everything he knew, it was an illusion.

‘ Oui. Master of lies,’ managed de Sable. ‘You and I just two more pawns in his grand game. And now… with my death, only you remain. Do you think he’ll let you live – knowing what you do?’

‘I’ve no interest in the Treasure,’ retorted Altair.

‘Ah… but he does. The only difference between your master and I is that he did not want to share.’

‘No…’

‘Ironic, isn’t it? That I – your greatest enemy – kept you safe from harm. But now you’ve taken my life – and, in the process, ended your own.’

Altair took a deep breath, still trying to comprehend what had happened. He felt a rush of emotions: anger, hurt, loneliness.

Then he reached and brushed de Sable’s eyelids closed. ‘We do not always find the things we seek,’ he intoned, and stood, prepared to meet death if the Crusaders wished. Perhaps even hoping they would.

‘Well fought, Assassin,’ came the cry from his right, and he turned to see Richard striding over to the ring, which parted to allow him through. ‘It seems God favours your cause this day.’

‘God had nothing to do with it. I was the better fighter.’

‘Ah. You may not believe in him, but it seems he believes in you. Before you go, I have a question.’

‘Ask it then,’ said Altair. He was very weary all of a sudden. He longed to lie in the shade of a palm: to sleep, to disappear. To die, even.

‘Why? Why travel all this way, risk your life a thousand times, all to kill a single man?’

‘He threatened my brothers and what we stand for.’

‘Ah. Vengeance, then?’

Altair looked down at the body of Robert de Sable and realized that, no, vengeance had not been on his mind when he had killed him. He had done what he had done for the Order. He gave voice to his thoughts. ‘No. Not vengeance. Justice. That there might be peace.’

‘This is what you fight for?’ said Richard, eyebrows raised. ‘Peace? Do you see the contradiction?’

He swept an arm around the area, a gesture that took in the battle still raging below them, the bodies scattered about the clearing and, last, the still-warm corpse of Robert de Sable.

‘Some men cannot be reasoned with.’

‘Like that madman Saladin,’ sighed Richard.

Altair looked at him. He saw a fair and just king. ‘I think he’d like to see an end to this war as much as you would.’

‘So I’ve heard, but never seen.’

‘Even if he doesn’t say it, it’s what the people want,’ Altair told him. ‘Saracen and Crusader alike.’

‘The people know not what they want. It’s why they turn to men like us.’

‘Then it falls to men like you to do what is right.’

Richard snorted. ‘Nonsense. We come into the world kicking and screaming. Violent and unstable. It is what we are. We cannot help ourselves.’

‘No. We are what we choose to be.’

Richard smiled ruefully. ‘Your kind… Always playing with words.’

‘I speak the truth,’ said Altair. ‘There’s no trick to be found here.’

‘We’ll know soon enough. But I fear you cannot have what you desire this day. Even now that heathen Saladin cuts through my men and I must attend to them. But perhaps, having seen how vulnerable he is, he will reconsider his actions. Yes. In time what you seek may be possible.’

‘You were no more secure than him,’ said Altair. ‘Do not forget that. The men you left behind to rule in your stead did not intend to serve you for longer than they had to.’

‘Yes. Yes. I am well aware.’

‘Then I’ll take my leave,’ said Altair. ‘My master and I have much to discuss. It seems that even he is not without fault.’

Richard nodded. ‘He is only human. As are we all. You as well.’

‘Safety and peace be upon you,’ said Altair, and he left, his thoughts going to Masyaf. Its beauty seemed tainted by what he had learned about Al Mualim. He needed to ride for home. He needed to put things right.