Assassin's Creed: Outlaw - Book One

A Tactical Disagreement

The welcome at the encampment was not as warm as Yughi might have expected. As the assassin came within view of the central clearing John ran over to him, his face like thunder.

"And what, in the name of all that's good and holy, did you think you were doing?" the giant demanded of him. The atmosphere in the camp changed instantly. As Yughi had approached he had heard the low murmur of satisfied voices. Yughi had guessed that once the evening's fires were lit there would be a celebration.

In that one instant, the happy lilt of conversation had ceased. Everyone was intent on this new conversation. For a moment Yughi was convinced that after his departure from Mammesfield disaster must have struck. A quick scan of the assembled outlaws revealed that Will Stutely was sat nearby, his own face as startled as many of the others.

"I do not know of what you speak," Yughi protested. "Will is safe..."

"I know Will Stutely still draws breath, Byzant," John said, "so does the sheriff, thanks to you."

Yughi suddenly understood why John was angry. The assassin had forgotten, for a moment, that he was now working with outlaws and not his own brothers. He drew in a deep breath, preparing to explain himself. John registered the change to Yughi's features.

"That's right," he said, looming over Yughi, a slab of rock, threatening to topple and squash the smaller man. "Scarlet told me how you saved that worthless rat's skin. So, for the second time of asking, what the devil did you think you were playing at?"

"Our mission was to save Will," Yughi said.

"Aye, and putting steel through the gizzard of a snake would have added gravy to the meat," John snapped back.

"No," Yughi said. "That is not how you must do things if you want to survive."

"What?" John cried out, unable to believe what he was hearing. "I don't know how you Saracen wankers do things back in old Salem, but in great old, grand old Britain we kill our enemies when we get the chance."

"And what happens then?" Yughi asked quietly. "Your Prince John finds another man to play the sheriff's role. This man, whoever he is, knows one thing: his predecessor was killed by the outlaws of Sherwood Forest.

"To the sheriff of Nottingham, we are a nuisance, a thorn in his side, a pest to be swatted like a fly. To the man who replaces him, we would be a serious threat. If you think that this replacement would not torch the forest just to kill us, then you do not know his kind."

"This is nonsense!" John roared. "I thought that Robin had lost his mind, but you are something else."

"Just because you think a man mad, Little John doesn't make it true," a new voice rang out over the clearing, Robin.

John turned to look at his friend, his shoulders slumped a little and his face went from furious animation to a grimmer, tight-lipped countenance. John was not above shouting down a foreign stranger, but Robin touched a note of loyalty in Little John that the giant warrior could not ignore; the attack dog was suddenly on the leash.

"Yughi is fighting the greatest Templar incursion in the history of mankind," Robin said. "For whatever reason, the Templars are desperate to complete their work in the Holy Land. From what I hear their power and influence grows by the day. Yughi has seen, first hand, how the Templars like to deal with problems. If he has strategic advice it would benefit us to listen to it."

"This is wrong-headed Robin," John objected. "We let the knaves live they will just come back to kill us another day."

"And, because we know them, and come to know them more with every battle, we will be prepared for them. One of our only advantages is that we can come to know our enemy well. One of our smartest tactics will be to keep them off balance so that they do not know us as we know them.

"What do you think William de Wendenal will make of today's events? Do you think it will not torment him to wonder why he still lives? Do you think, were it not for Yughi's actions, that we would have an opportunity to make our enemy think that he has a friend in this camp? If we choose it now we can plant a strong deception that could lead to the true end of this tyranny, not a fleeting victory that fades with the following day's ale head."

Robin talked like Al Mualim, but the man can only have been in his thirties. Al Mualim was a wily old dog who had lived a long and eventful life. Yughi had to wonder how Robin had acquired this keen military brain.

"And who says that this Byzant is not working for the Prince?" John asked. "He is brought to our camp in a cage and now he walks among us like a brother and I have not known him a day. Why should we not slit his throat and return him whence he came, would that not send a message too?"

"It would send the message that we are frightened and paranoid," said Brother Tuck, joining the argument. "I have only ever seen tactics such as this man employed during my own time in the Holy Land, and then only employed by my Brotherhood. He is no Templar if he were and they had even ten men like him we... well, to put it bluntly, we would all be fucked from here to Wednesday."

Now, surrounded by dissenting voices John slumped forward properly.

"I am not going to pretend I understand, less so that I agree, but if everyone is determined on this lunacy then so be it," he said.

"You are a good man, John," Robin said. "As are all of our merry band. The best in Britain, all of you. I know that moving slow and wide as we are is frustrating but I promise, it will pay off. Now, let us put this argument behind us. I know of no better way than for you to tell me where our good friend Scarlet is."

"What?" John asked, his eyebrows shot up on his forehead until it appeared they might merge with his hairline.

"Scarlet is a swift-fingered thief and no sluggard," Robin said. "Yet he is not here with us. As I left Mammesfield I saw the two of you talking intently. I think it is reasonable to assume, given the divided nature of our intentions, and given Scarlet's sympathy with your cause, that he may have shared with you that which he did not wish to disclose to me."

"Robin, this is madness, can't you see, we must act-" John said. Before he got any further with this dissembling something whispered through his hair, cutting a few strands from the top of his scalp. A bare fraction of a second later there was a dull thudding noise as an arrow embedded itself in a tree behind John.

Robin already had another arrow notched into the string of his bow.

"Little John," he said. "I love you like a brother, none are closer to my heart than you are, but I will kill you if you insist on sneaking around behind my back. Tell me where Scarlet went."

"He saw a detachment of Miles Godfrey's men at Mammesfield," John said, his face now dark again. "He went to finish that job, at the very least."

"Then we had best be off after him," Robin said. "For if there's one thing I know we don't want to deal with, it's the consequences of Godfrey's death."