03 Secret Crusade by Oliver Bowden

Author:Oliver Bowden
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

31

De Sable gasped. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, hands going to the blade that impaled him, even as Altaïr 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 Altaïr’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 Altaïr saw King Richard, his chin tilted as though the turn of events had done little more than pique his curiosity.

Now Altaïr 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 Altaïr, ‘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 Altaïr 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 Altaïr, 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 Altaïr, 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 Altaïr 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 Altaïr, still not wanting to believe.

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