The Golden City, page 13
part #1 of Assassin's Creed Series
But in the end, his fingers loosened, and he unfolded the message and read it. Hytham watched his expression, but though the young man was quick to show his emotions to Hytham – he could never seem to hide them at all, in fact, when the two of them were together – he gave nothing away of how he was feeling as he turned and strode from the kitchen.
Hytham followed, and it soon became clear that Justin was leaving the palace, though not by the main gate with its steady flow of traffic. Hytham paused for a moment in the shadow of an archway, and used the call of the night bird he and Basim had agreed upon to signal each other.
Assuming the other Assassin was nearby.
It turned out, he didn’t have to worry. Less than a minute after Hytham issued his call, Basim was there at his elbow, moving through the shadows with him as they followed Justin out of the palace and through one of the secondary gates, back into the city as dusk was turning into full dark. Candles, house fires, and lanterns illuminated the night, permeating the air with a rich, smoky scent. Above them, the sliver of moon shone pale silver on the rooftops, but there were clouds gathering in the east, promising a night storm.
“Here,” Basim said simply, handing Hytham his Assassin garments. “You’re not part of the Varangian Guard right now.”
He was right. Hytham’s easily recognizable scale chainmail would draw too much attention. He slipped the robes on over it and pulled the peaked hood up to conceal his features.
As they moved through the streets, Hytham filled Basim in on his encounter with Justin and everything he’d observed of the young man afterward.
“I believe he’s going to meet someone,” Hytham said in a soft whisper. Through open windows around him, he could hear the clink of dishes and soft conversations as people prepared their evening meal or spoke to each other by their fires.
“Wherever he’s going, it’s a place he knows well,” Basim said, gesturing to the way the young man turned unerringly down street after street, barely glancing at his surroundings. “You feel strongly about this?” he asked, casting Hytham a sidelong glance.
“I do,” Hytham said. “I’ve felt strongly from the start that the man is suspicious, and before we arrived, he was the member of the Varangian Guard with the most direct access to Leo. Why shouldn’t we investigate him?”
“I’m not doubting you,” Basim said, holding up his hand in a conciliatory gesture. “I simply want to make sure you’re thinking this through.”
“I am,” Hytham insisted, “and it doesn’t matter if you doubt me or not. I have my own doubts and uncertainties – about you and this mission – but one way or another, I’m going to see this through and find out if Justin is a traitor or not.”
He’d not meant the words to come out with such vehemence, but he couldn’t take them back now, and Hytham couldn’t honestly say he regretted them.
Basim hesitated, and for the first time since they’d met, Hytham thought he might’ve truly surprised the man. “Very well,” he said. “Lead on.”
Going by their surroundings, they were entering the city’s poorer districts. The streets were narrower and dirtier, less well-lit than the main thoroughfares. The buildings were tall and sagging against one another, with many apartments clustered together under one roof. The smells of waste grew thicker, the air hazy with poorly ventilated smoke.
They were well removed from the world of the palace now. It struck Hytham that they hadn’t had to travel very far to see the gap between the immense wealth and poverty in Constantinople, but having been on both sides of the divide now, he realized he’d never truly appreciated how enormous that gap was.
Justin turned down a dark alley, and for a moment Hytham feared they would lose him as he quickened his step.
“Look,” Basim said softly, laying a hand on Hytham’s arm.
Hytham looked where he indicated, and at the other end of the alley, he glimpsed a figure in a dark cloak and hood step out of the shadows to intercept Justin. The young man tensed, but then relaxed, seeming to recognize him.
Hytham and Basim pressed their bodies to the alley wall and crept closer. The men were speaking in low voices now, and Hytham desperately wanted to hear what they were saying, but other voices and drunken laughter from the tenements above drifted down, making it impossible to hear. He glanced at Basim, who gave a nod, and they crouched low and moved nearer, using ssome broken crates and piles of trash stacked along the wall as cover. It was a risk, but Hytham was willing to take it.
He was rewarded when he could finally make out Justin’s voice, low and angry, scant feet away from where they hid.
“… gave you my answer,” he was saying tersely. “You won’t get more than this meeting from me.”
“The blow doesn’t have to come from you directly, if that’s what troubles you,” the other man said, and reached out as if to lay a hand on Justin’s shoulder. Justin’s body went rigid, and the glower he sent the man caused him to retract his hand. “All you have to do is make sure he’s in the place we tell you to put him. Others will do the rest, but I promise you, you’ll reap the largest of the rewards. The emperor will see to it. He’s calling on your loyalty, Justin, the vow you swore to your master.”
Justin shifted, turning slightly away from them, so Hytham couldn’t see his face, but he read the young man’s body language clearly enough. He watched Justin fight the instinct to recoil, fists clenched at his sides.
When he didn’t immediately reply, the man leaned in closer, being careful not to touch him. “You know where we are,” he said. “We know there are things here that are precious to you. This is a chance to protect and provide for the people you care about. Think hard before you throw that away. This is the last time we’re going to ask.”
A soft rain was beginning to fall, clicking off the tiled roofs and running in small rivulets down Hytham’s covered neck. He hadn’t noticed the way the clouds had scudded in to cover the moon, so fixated was he on the conversation unfolding in the alley.
After a moment, Justin nodded slowly. “I understand,” he said. “You’ve been patient. I’ll give you my answer now.”
The man was still standing very close to him. Justin pivoted, and Hytham saw the flash of the knife blade as Justin brought it up, stabbing the man in the armpit. Hytham’s breath caught in shock as the man grunted, but he didn’t fall to the ground. Instead he grabbed Justin and threw him against the wall opposite where Hytham and Basim were hiding. Justin’s head hit the bricks with a dull, sickening thud, and his attacker staggered back, reaching beneath his cloak for a weapon, his movements clumsy as blood ran down his flank.
Justin went for his sword, and the blades clanged off each other in the narrow space, quick, dirty slashes that had little finesse. Both men were injured, but it was clear the one losing blood was also losing the upper hand. Justin drove him deeper into the alley, feet slipping on the trash and wet stones. The rain was coming harder now, affecting visibility as the water splashed up from the ground, and the sound of the roaring downpour helped cover the clash of weapons.
Hytham moved instinctively to intervene, but Basim put a restraining hand on his arm. Hytham wanted to shrug it off, but he knew what Basim must be thinking. If they distracted Justin by showing themselves now, his opponent could take advantage and land a killing blow. Fortunately, Justin seemed to have the fight in hand. He continued to herd the man toward a deserted street at the other end of the alley. Hytham and Basim followed, both tensed to spring.
But just as the man reached the mouth of the alley, he tripped over some broken stones, feet sliding in muck and animal dung, and Justin had his opening. He ran the man through with his sword, hand over his mouth to muffle the cry of pain. Then Justin pulled him back into the darkness and dumped his body behind a pile of trash. He wiped his sword and dagger clean and put them away, breathing hard.
Hytham watched him for a second, waiting for the haze of battle to fade from him so that they could reveal themselves without startling him into an attack.
Basim put a hand on Hytham’s shoulder. “Be ready,” he whispered.
Hytham’s head whipped around, and then he saw them. Two more figures approached Justin from behind, a man and woman, cloaked and armed, their swords out. Justin must have heard them, for he spun, sword hissing out of its scabbard again. He stood with his shoulders thrown back defiantly, but Hytham knew he was tired and probably still reeling from the head wound he’d taken against the alley wall. He couldn’t fight both of these enemies and win.
Justin gave a hollow laugh as the man and woman advanced, walking right past Basim and Hytham where they hid in the shadows.
“At least you can say it took three of you,” Justin said. He spat on the ground.
And then Basim stepped away from the alley wall, Hytham at his side.
They had maneuvered themselves behind their targets. The rain hid any sound their footfalls might have made, and they moved through water as effortlessly as air. The shadows held them safely, concealing them from the rest of the world. Because the shadows were their home, that liminal space where they could hide and observe.
Or hunt.
They moved as one, their Hidden Blades flashing silver in the rain, and just like that, it was over. Justin’s attackers were dead before they realized they were in danger. They made very little sound as they fell, their blood already washing away under the assault of the rain.
Justin’s breath caught when he realized what had happened to his attackers, his sword still raised defensively. “Who are you?” he demanded of Hytham and Basim. “Show yourselves.”
Hytham stepped further into the light, letting his hood drop. “It’s me,” he said.
Justin’s eyes widened in recognition, but he didn’t lower his sword. His brow furrowed, as if he didn’t know whether Hytham’s appearance was a blessing or a danger. Hytham felt a pang of shame at that, that Justin thought him a person who’d stab him in the back in a dark alley.
The downpour had slackened but rain continued to fall steadily. Justin’s hair was soaked, and the water had washed away the blood from a cut on his cheek. “You followed me,” he said to Hytham, unnecessarily.
“We thought we were following a traitor,” Basim said. He sheathed his sword and brushed some of the water from his robes. “But I suppose in a way you are a traitor, aren’t you, Justin? You just defied your emperor, after all.”
Justin stood straighter. “Does that make you my executioners?”
At that, Basim laughed. “I like him, Hytham,” he said, clapping Hytham on the shoulder. “He reminds me a bit of you. Perhaps that’s why the two of you clash so perfectly.”
“I’m glad you’re finding humor in this,” Hytham said. He turned to Justin. “We followed you because we thought you were being paid to assassinate Leo.” He nodded to the dead man in the trash heap. “That is what he wanted from you, yes?”
Justin nodded. “It’s not the first time they’ve tried to recruit me,” he said, and huffed a laugh that had no humor in it. “I don’t even know who ‘they’ are, just that they work for the emperor.” He took in Hytham and Basim’s clothing, the peaked hood and robes, wet with rain but still impressive and distinctive for all that. “Who are you?” he repeated. “You don’t work for the emperor, but you’re not truly one of the Varangian Guard either.”
“We’ve been hired independently to see to Leo’s safety and the future prosperity of Constantinople,” Basim said. “You say this isn’t the first time you’ve been asked to join the conspiracy against Leo. I assume this is the first time you’ve answered with violence?”
Justin nodded. “They gave me no choice when they asked to meet me in this neighborhood,” he said, his expression hardening. “Someone I care for lives here, and they found out about it. Bringing me here was a threat, so I knew I either had to join their cause or give them my answer once and for all.”
Hytham tried to reconcile the picture he’d been building of Justin in his mind with what was confronting him here. Everything he thought he’d known had been upended. “What about your friend?” he asked. “They’ll be in danger now.”
Justin gave Hytham a flat look. “I take care of my own,” he said. “I’ll make sure they get somewhere safe and that they aren’t found again.”
“I don’t understand,” Hytham said, letting some of his frustration show. “You hate the boy. You hated me for taking your place in the Varangian Guard hierarchy. If you’d taken their offer, you’d have had everything you wanted and the emperor’s favor on top of it.”
Justin’s expression turned to disgust. “And that’s enough to make me a child murderer, is it?”
Next to Hytham, Basim shrugged. “For some men, it takes much less,” he said. “You were near the top of our list of suspects.”
“You didn’t do yourself any favors with how you treated Leo,” Hytham said.
“How I treated…” With jerky movements, Justin sheathed his sword, then took a moment to gather himself before glaring at Hytham. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You show up at the palace out of nowhere, stay for a few weeks to play hero, and you think you know what that boy’s life is like and what he needs. You don’t know anything.”
Hytham crossed his arms. The hostility was back, flaring in the young man’s gaze, and they were in familiar territory again. “You’re a bully. If you’d shown him a degree of kindness, then maybe–”
Justin laughed, the harsh sound echoing off the alley walls. “You think I wasn’t kind to him?” He took a step toward Hytham, fists clenched. Beside him, Basim tensed, but Hytham glanced at him and shook his head slightly. “Leo was like a younger brother to me when I first came to the palace,” Justin said, voice tight with anger. “I was just like you. I saw how lonely he was, that he needed a friend.” He looked away, scrubbing the rain off his face. “I thought I was helping him, but then the emperor noticed how happy Leo was, and it didn’t take long for him to figure out that I was to blame.”
Hytham was shaken. He searched Justin’s face, looking for a lie, but he couldn’t see any deception there. “What happened?” he asked. His throat felt constricted.
“Nothing,” Justin said bitterly. “He never reprimanded me or confronted me about it. He sent all his messages through Leo. I tried to train him, just like you,” he said to Hytham. Hytham’s surprise must have shown on his face, because Justin just laughed again. “I saw Leo practicing. It made me realize what you must have been doing, and you were right to keep it a secret.” His expression twisted briefly with guilt. “I should have thought to do that.”
Hytham forced himself to speak, recalling a conversation he’d had with the boy. “Leo said you started to teach him archery, but something happened. He wouldn’t say what.”
“He tried to show his father that he could hit a target,” Justin said. “He thought it would make the emperor proud, that if he showed some strength, maybe his father wouldn’t hate him so much. Can you imagine?” He shook his head. “The emperor broke his arm. It took months before he was able to hold a bow again, and by that time, he didn’t want to go near one again.”
A sickening sensation tightened Hytham’s stomach. “So every time you showed Leo kindness, the emperor punished the boy,” he said.
Justin nodded. “I was afraid he would dismiss me outright, so I went back to being indifferent, thinking that was what it would take, but it wasn’t enough. I had to pretend to despise him before the emperor was satisfied. He wanted nothing less than for Leo’s trust in me to be shattered.” He looked at Hytham. “He’ll do the same to you. He’ll wait until he knows how much you care about him, and then he’ll take it all away.”
Justin fell silent as Hytham’s thoughts reeled with these revelations. The rain continued to fall in icy needles against his skin, but he barely noticed it.
Justin had never hated Leo. In fact, he had cared for him so much that he was willing to destroy the relationship he’d built with the boy in order to save him from his father’s wrath.
And he’d refused to conspire with the emperor to kill the boy, even though it might end up destroying his own life.
Hytham was at a loss for words as everything he’d thought he knew about Justin realigned in the space of a few moments. He knew it was possible the man was lying, of course, and they would have to try to verify his story to be sure. But staring at the young man’s defiant face in the alley with the three bodies lying nearby, Hytham knew deep in his gut that it was all true. His view of Justin had been wrong, based on assumptions that he’d made by looking at the surface of things. He’d made no attempt to dig deeper.
He could feel Basim’s gaze on him, and Hytham tried to pull his thoughts together. “If you aren’t the traitor,” he said, addressing Justin, “then it must be Theodore or Anna. Do you have any idea which of them it might be?”
Justin scoffed. “Don’t you see? The emperor could be making offers like the one he made to me to both of them, to anyone in the palace.” His voice rose with anger and frustration as he spoke. “I don’t know who you are or who you represent in this city, and I’m grateful you want to protect the boy, believe me. For a while, I was certain you were the one who was going to kill him.” He shook his head, and his expression took on an edge of despair. “But I have to accept that Leo’s going to die. It’s only a matter of time. We can’t protect him from the might of the emperor forever.”
At that, Basim stirred, and there was that predatory smile again, the one Hytham was used to seeing when the man was presented with an impossible challenge. “Given time enough,” he said, “we may surprise you.”
Bold words, but Hytham didn’t contradict him. A terrible suspicion had taken hold of him based on what Justin had said.
It’s only a matter of time.
Maybe his attackers had just been waiting for a way to engineer that moment.
“They lured you away from the palace,” Hytham said. “No matter what answer you gave, you’re away from Leo right now.” He looked at Basim and immediately saw understanding in his gaze. “And in following him, they’ve lured us away too.”
