The Raven and The Eagle

An Eagle Among Ravens pt. 1

The afternoon was nigh, and by this point in time, I was all too eager to get out of this cursed longship and finally feel solid ground beneath my feet. For months, we have traveled across the sea once belonging to the famed Roman Empire, which was now slowly languishing in Anatolia. Between the days of hot sun, or harsh rain, and bouncing waves, to the more recent snow and wind, I feel I had only begin to better understand my Master's teachings of being at one with your surroundings.

Still, no one ever said becoming an assassin was easy. Then again, proving to be more difficult than living on the streets of Baghdad would be impressive enough, but it proved to be even more challenging still. The arts, the arts of hiding in plain sight while remaining armed to the teeth, of seeking out those who encouraged division and anguish amongst the people and removing them from their positions, and of being one with people and with nature themselves. All of these and more proved challenging for me to learn, but in time, even unto this day, I was mastering these ancient and sacred lessons, with my Master there to guide me.

Basim Ibn Ishaq, my Master, my friend, and my brother in Brotherhood. He told me that he found me just as his Master Roshan found him when he was at the same age I was when we first met. He rebuilt me when I was broken from the loss of my father and uncle. He guided me in the ways of the Levantine Assassins, their traditions, their teachings, and their skills. Without him, I would not be the man I was on that Longship sailing by the fjords of Norway, nor the man I would become in the years that followed.

So, why were we traveling to Norway so far from our homeland in the Caliphate? One would need to look no further than to ask our new friend, Sigurd Styrbjornson, a viking who well exceeded the expectations set by his reputation as both a combatant and a friend to have so far from home.

Sigurd was a man of fine health, yet well connected to his ancestral traditions and beliefs. It was for this reason that I was initially puzzled by my Master's sudden interest in the man when we met back in the Caliphate. He didn't seem to have any intention of making Sigurd into an assassin, and yet he was pulling himself and me away from our old work at home to meet Sigurd's people in the great white north.

Any and all questions I posed in regards to this were often brushed off by Basim as he would often remind me of how our work requires sacrifice, as well as taking risks. What risks were we taking now, I wondered? Was he truly planning to establish a guild in Norway or attempt to resurrect our Brotherhood's lost work in western Europe?

It seemed as though these questions, which continued to linger in my subconscious like a fever dream or a striking image, would have to wait. Before I realized it, our longship had been docked in Fornburg... I must've been meditating shortly beforehand. Otherwise, the stop might not have felt so sudden. I heard Sigurd shout loudly with joy in his voice, "Eivor!" I looked to the docks where Sigurd shouted towards, soon finding a masculine woman of unmistakable beauty and strength. Her features were as vivid as her outfit was striking. Her smile was great as she came to greet her brother with open arms. For a moment, I felt uplifted to see such a loving familial bond after weeks, if not months of hearing Sigurd speak of his sister so fondly. Though my initial impression would not remain so positive.

As Sigurd and Eivor got their bearings and refamiliarized themselves with one another after being apart for so long, between one to two years from what I've heard, Basim and myself collected ourselves as we finally stepped out of the damned longship, and onto dry land.

"Brother, who are these friends of yours?" Eivor asked as she noticed Basim, and then me, taking keen interest in the both of us as Basim removed his hood while my own remained over my head. "Hytham," I heard Basim speak in a calm yet commanding tone when he noticed that my hood was still on, "Show some respect for our hosts and remove your hood." Before I could respond, Sigurd thankfully cut in, "No need," He spoke up with a shake of the head, "This colder weather is unfamiliar to him. I'm sure his cloak will only help his body in getting to know this colder land." At this, Basim backed down from his initial order and left me be. I smiled at Sigurd with a slight nod, a gesture he understood as a "Thank you." I performed the same gesture to Eivor as a greeting, and she responded in kind.