Hawks and Eagles

Taloned Predators

Even plied with alcohol and stories, your opponent was merciless in every match. Thankfully for you, the game was played for fun and no stakes were actually placed down. You had been bested in three rounds of the game before Altaïr finally returned to save you from making a greater fool of yourself.

The Rafiq greeted him with more enthusiasm than he had held earlier, somewhat tipsy from his drinking, "Altaïr! Welcome, welcome!" He waved the Assassin closer to the counter, likely overwhelmed with the victory of his Nardshir skills.

"I have done what you asked. Now, give me the marker."

He rolled his eyes to you, the disdain that coated them drew a chuckle from you. "First things first: what have you learned?"

"Tamir rules over the Souk Al-Silaah. He makes his fortune selling arms and armor, and is supported by many in this endeavour: blacksmiths, traders, financiers... He's the largest death-dealer in the land."

You gave a nod, understanding now. "That must be why Al Mualim wants him dead."

The Rafiq stood tall, his head a bit higher. "And have you devised a plan to rid us of this blight?"

"A meeting is being arranged at the Souk Al-Silaah." Altaïr began pacing with impatience. "They say it is the largest sale that Tamir has ever made. He will be distracted with his work. That is when I will strike."

He searched behind the counter. "Your plan seems solid enough. I give you leave to go." He lifted into view a white eagle's feather and placed it before him. "Let Al Mualim's will be done." He started to grin as he leaned onto the countertop, slight sarcasm on his tongue, "Rest here if you need it. A drink to parch your thirst, perhaps?"

Altaïr snatched the feather and slipped it into his tunic. "I have no need for either."

You let a scoff huff past your lips. "What are you going to do? Loom over the Souk until your target appears?"

He glimpsed at you over his shoulder. "Yes."

You rolled your eyes, making sure the Rafiq saw your displeasure, before throwing up your hood and covering your mouth with your scarf. He cleared his throat, busying himself with his pottery as his lips widened into a smile. You followed Altaïr out of the Bureau, shadowing his steps across the dusty rooftops and scattered wooden framings. You approached the Souk, the immense noise of the traders reaching multiple buildings away. Altaïr stalked up behind one of the archers posted on the rooftop, his arm drawing back for the silent kill.

You barred his path, a strong arm keeping him from the guard. You shook your head and despite his hood, you knew the hatred that he daggered at you. Silently, you hooked a hand over the guard's mouth and an arm around his neck, dragging him backwards towards one of the wooden structures, his efforts wasted.

Once you were certain he was away from sight, away from any guards that might wander by, you tightened your arm around his throat. You pinched his air supply, using your free hand to hold down your arm as he struggled. It wasn't pretty and it certainly wasn't your most glorious moment. But, at least the guard didn't have to die. He would wake with an awful headache but he would be alive.

His weight fell limp and you eased him into the wooden framing.

Altaïr swaggered by, scrutinizing your work. "I could have killed him and been done with it by now."

You bound the guard's wrists together before tying a gag over his mouth. You stood up and ensured the burlap curtain was pulled tight, hoping that hiding him would give you at least a few hours. "Yes, you could have. But have you never considered that this guard is a person, following orders to protect his city? If he dies, what do you think will happen to his family? To his wife and child?" You sashayed past, eyes confidently on him.