The Golden City, page 25
part #1 of Assassin's Creed Series
They thrust and spun and slammed into each other, and it was a brutal spectacle that the crowd drank in as if they were still at the chariot race. Ripples of excitement ran through them at every blocked thrust and complicated swing. They’d never seen anything like this, but they put the full power of their support behind Justin and Leo.
Justin seemed to feel it too. He drew himself up and found a second wind, viciously slashing at the man until he was down on one knee and Justin was above him. He knocked the man’s sword out of his hand and ran him through.
The crowd went berserk, cheering and closing in around Leo and Justin as the conquering heroes, kicking aside the assassin’s body.
Hytham leaned in to whisper to Basim. “You could not have scripted a better scene. But how could you possibly guarantee it would play out this way?”
Basim whispered back, a ghost of a smile on his sweat-soaked face, “You can guarantee nothing in this life, my friend. But I would wager much on the power of human nature.”
Chapter Thirty
The story of the repair of Constantinople’s walls, the legend of how the chariot racing teams’ supporters protected New Rome from invasion by the Huns, had depended on the competitive spirit of the city’s citizens and spoke to the value of understanding human nature. Whether the story actually happened or not, whether the events had been embellished or were outright lies, was beside the point.
Basim knew that better than anyone when he engineered his plan to let the assassins take Leo from the emperor’s box. He knew it when he’d planted allies in the crowd on the first turn to sow discontent among them, to work them into a frenzy – and then to throw a spiked chain onto the track in front of Basil’s oncoming chariot to sabotage the race and cause chaos, giving the assassins their moment to strike.
Maybe he’d even wanted the crowd to see Basil wrench his chariot out of the path of disaster, narrowly avoiding a crash with brute strength and sheer stubborn will. He wanted those watching in the stands to see Thyra pulling the empress to the ground and shielding her with her body while Hytham fought his way through the Hippodrome in pursuit of Leo, slaying any attacker who got in his path. He’d wanted witnesses to see Leo fighting and shouting at his would-be murderers as they dragged him into the streets.
Most of all, he’d wanted the crowd to see Justin, the young Viking warrior, the Varangian Guard sworn to protect the imperial family with his blade, his blood, and his life, put himself between the last remaining assassin and Leo, to watch the wounded hero stand alone and conquer the perceived foreign invader, cut him down in front of them, striking the blow on behalf of everyone in Constantinople.
Those who had been there to witness the events spread the story through every corner of the city, and it didn’t matter if the events had truly happened the way the stories went. That wasn’t the point. The important part was that the people of Constantinople took Leo and Justin into their hearts, uniting them against any outside threat that would dare challenge their city or the strength of the imperial family and its protectors.
It was a victory in a war the people hadn’t even realized was happening, but a victory was a victory, and they were drunk with it, parading in the streets, selling wooden swords made to look like Justin’s blade, and telling stories of how the boy-emperor would make a lion-like ruler one day, for he’d been so young and so small and yet fought like a beast against his attackers.
Their words and cheers and love were stronger than any armor or any guardian the Hidden Ones could put at Leo’s side.
Basil could not dare kill Leo now or remove Justin from amongst Leo’s protectors. The city loved them too much, and his allies in the Order of the Ancients had failed him one too many times. Beyond that, the emperor was facing enemies and political conflicts outside the city walls that needed his attention. He’d been drawn away too long from the actual ruling of the city, and no matter what else could be said about Basil, he was a canny ruler, and the city was stable under his hand. He would not throw that away for a personal vendetta against a boy who may or may not share his blood. The Order of the Ancients would have to find a new path to power in the city.
All of this Hytham found himself relating to Empress Eudocia as they sat in Demetrios’s garden, many days removed from their last meeting there. Hytham had expected Basim to be there also to give the empress a full accounting of the events at the Hippodrome, but he should have known the man would slip out of that particular responsibility in the end, for the empress was none too pleased that her son had been used as bait in this trap. Basim had left Hytham to explain that part and to hope and pray that the empress decided not to have him killed after hearing how close they had come to it all going wrong.
Luckily, she seemed to accept his story and his reasoning for the Hidden Ones’ actions as she cradled a glass of wine in her hands and regarded Hytham with a curious expression.
“I confess I’m surprised you agreed to the plan, considering it put you out of reach of my son for so long,” she commented. “Do you trust Basim so much?”
Trust. It always came back to that. Yes, Hytham had trusted Basim to save Leo, and that faith had been rewarded beyond his imagining.
Leo was safe. He was safe, and he had Justin to watch over him as he grew to adulthood, the most fearsome protector one could hope for. It was everything Hytham wanted for the boy, and his relief knew no bounds. For all that, Basim would have his loyalty for the rest of Hytham’s life. He would gladly follow the man on whatever mission he declared was next for them.
But could he trust Basim?
No, he could not. No more than Basim could ever fully trust Hytham. Basim knew the Hidden Ones had sent Hytham to spy on him. With that knowledge, Basim could have acted much differently in their relationship. He could have shut Hytham out, could have left him to die in that basement at Isaac’s hands, or exiled him from the city and the Hidden Ones when he’d disobeyed orders.
Basim had done none of those things. Instead he’d made a friend of Hytham, put him back on the right path when he strayed, and helped him when he didn’t have to. And maybe all that too was just Basim understanding Hytham’s nature and knowing what to do to manipulate him. Maybe nothing of their bond was real, but Hytham chose to believe otherwise. He chose to believe that there was more to Basim than manipulation and subterfuge. Underneath it all, he was a complicated man who worked from the shadows and chased his own demons.
Everyone had their own voice in the dark, taunting them to fail.
Even Basim.
But he hadn’t answered the empress’s question.
“Leaving Leo to anyone’s care other than my own was the second hardest thing I’ve ever done,” Hytham admitted. His voice thickened. “The hardest thing is what I do today.”
The empress’s face softened into something almost like affection. She put her wine glass aside and reached across to take his calloused hands in her own.
Holding the hands of the empress of Constantinople, Hytham thought. What a strange and wondrous life this was.
“You don’t have to leave,” the empress said, looking into his eyes. “There’s a permanent place for you in the Varangian Guard if you want it. You deserve much more acknowledgment for the part you played in all of this. At least let me offer you the chance to stay where you clearly want to be.”
At Leo’s side.
Hytham had thought, during certain moments over the course of the last several weeks, that that was what he wanted. To be the father he would not have the chance to be otherwise. To watch a child grow up and go on to great things, surpassing his parents and creating his own legacy in the world. It was the closest thing he would get to immortality.
But it wasn’t his path. His place was in the shadows, and he was content with that role in making the world better. There was much more yet for him to do on behalf of the Hidden Ones.
He shook his head, bowing respectfully to the empress’s offer. “I thank you for your consideration, Honored Empress, but my presence in the palace would only be a danger to Leo. It would remind the emperor of how he’d been thwarted in his plans, and it might start his mind down another dark path, and that’s the last thing I would want.” He gently pulled away. “Leo is in good hands with Justin and Thyra. They’ll keep watch over him well.”
And Justin was already being watched by the Hidden Ones for potential recruitment. He and Leo could learn together the cause for which Hytham and Basim fought, and they would be formidable allies in the fight against the Order of the Ancients.
At least that was the hope. The future was a nebulous, ever-changing thing, and as Basim had said, there were no guarantees.
The empress nodded her acceptance of his decision, but her brow furrowed in dismay. “Is that why you haven’t come to the palace to say goodbye to my son? He was distraught when you didn’t return after the race.”
Hytham swallowed. It had been several days, and yes, he had deliberately stayed away. He told himself it was better that Leo begin accepting his absence as soon as possible. A long, drawn-out goodbye would be hard on the boy.
He told himself he wasn’t being a coward.
But Eudocia was a keen observer. Hytham had forgotten that. She read his face and his silence and said chidingly, “Don’t you think the boy deserves the chance to say a proper farewell to his guardian?”
Before Hytham could respond, he heard light, scuffling footsteps and a voice that said, “Mother! I’m here!”
Hytham closed his eyes briefly and opened them to find Eudocia smiling at him, unrepentant. “I did tell you many people at court dislike me,” she said. “I am a difficult woman, and I always insist on getting my way.”
“So you said.” Hytham’s lungs suddenly felt too big for his chest.
He turned to see Leo running into the garden. When the boy set eyes on him, he gasped, and then he was pounding across the stone walkways, jumping over bushes and knocking over flower pots, ignoring his mother’s fond admonishments, to launch himself into Hytham, nearly tackling him.
“Ow,” Hytham said, absorbing the impact of the small, sweaty missile and reaching out to ruffle the boy’s hair fondly. “As surprise attacks go, your technique needs a bit of work.”
“I thought you were gone,” Leo said accusingly, even as he wrapped his thin arms around Hytham’s neck and held on. Hytham glanced over at the empress, but she had disappeared from the courtyard, taking her wine with her, in a fair imitation of the grace and stealth of an Assassin.
Hytham pulled back to look at Leo. He was covered in healing scrapes and bruises, and his wrist was wrapped from a small sprain, but otherwise he was the same bright-eyed boy Hytham remembered from their training sessions. He had not only survived his ordeal, but Hytham had good cause to hope that he would come out the other side stronger for all he had endured.
“What’s this?” Hytham pointed to the wooden sword Leo carried – one of the replicas of Justin’s sword that had been circulating in the city.
Leo grinned. “Justin’s teaching me to use it. You said I could practice with a wooden sword eventually,” he added, as if afraid Hytham would take the weapon from him.
“So I did.” Hytham laughed. “Justin is a taskmaster. Mind what he says and follow his lessons so you don’t get hurt.”
Leo nodded, but his expression clouded. “You’re not coming back to the palace, are you? You’re leaving.”
This was going to be just as hard as Hytham had feared. “I’m afraid so,” he said. “But I’m not leaving you alone. Justin and Thyra will watch over you. I’d trust them both with my life.”
“But where will you go?” Leo asked in a small, trembling voice. “What’s more important than here?”
Nothing, Hytham wanted to say, but he swallowed the words and touched the boy’s cheek gently. “I would stay if I could, Leo. But it’s a very large world outside these city walls, and there are others who need me. I’m sorry.”
Leo nodded solemnly. “That was what Justin said.” He sighed. “I know I still have a lot to learn, but I won’t forget what you taught me.”
“Good.” Hytham ruffled his hair again, and then his hands came to rest on the boy’s shoulders. “I will miss you,” he said, and that was all he could manage.
Leo hugged him again, hard, then pulled away at his mother’s call from the door. He wiped his face, smiled bravely at Hytham, and said, “Goodbye, Guardian Hytham. Thank you for protecting me.”
Then he ran off into the house, his mother following with a last wave and a nod to Hytham.
Hytham stayed where he was, sitting alone in Demetrios’s garden, for some time after that.
Epilogue
When he stepped outside Demetrios’s house after thanking his host for his hospitality, Hytham found Basim leaning against a nearby wall, his hood down, as if he were just passing a fine day in the shade while he waited for his friend.
“You threw me to the wolves,” Hytham said lightly as they walked away from the house.
Basim fell into step beside him, grinning. “And yet, you remain in one piece, unmurdered, so I assume that means your report to the empress didn’t go as badly as it could have.”
“No,” Hytham said. “She accepted the mission’s outcome, if not how we went about it. But the important thing to her is that Leo is safe, with a bright future ahead of him.”
“Therefore, our mission was a success,” Basim said. “On to bigger things and bright futures for us, eh?”
Hytham nodded absently, but there were still things on his mind. Questions unanswered. “The Order will send a new leader to Constantinople.” It was not a fortune teller’s prediction, but a statement of fact. “Will they not seek revenge and to finish what Isaac started?”
Basim shook his head. “They won’t continue to waste resources there, especially without the emperor’s favor. Basil knows the people love Justin and Leo now. He won’t risk losing that kind of support, even for his alliance with the Order. He has to be doubting their promises and their strength, considering they couldn’t deliver him one dead son.”
Hytham winced at Basim’s choice of words, but he was correct, of course. It was a victory for the Hidden Ones. The Order would have to accept that and move on to other ways to control the city and bend it to their will.
And they always found ways. It was part of the eternal struggle between the two sides, the shadowy war that never ended.
But Hytham pushed those dark thoughts aside. For now, he was savoring their victory. “What comes next for us, then?” He added, before Basim could respond, “I trust you’ve noticed there are more Viking tribes arriving in Constantinople daily, beyond those associated with the Varangian Guard.”
“I had noticed that.” Basim glanced at Hytham. “Why would you think I’d be looking at them?”
Hytham almost laughed. “You said yourself we should be cultivating them as allies before the Order takes an interest and gets to them first. Perhaps that should be our focus for a time?”
Basim looked at him, a strange, unreadable expression on his face. Did he recognize this as the gesture Hytham meant it to be? In the name of recruiting for the Hidden Ones, they would continue to seek out the Vikings that came to the city, and in that way, Basim could pursue his personal goals while still working in the interests of the Hidden Ones.
Hytham knew he may not be able to ever fully trust Basim, but he could give the man this. He owed it to him for what he had done for Leo. Hytham would never forget that.
“You may be right,” Basim said slowly, as they walked down the city streets. They moved among the people but apart from them, always keeping to the shadows where they wouldn’t be noticed. “I believe there are likely candidates who would make great allies of the Hidden Ones. Whether they fully embrace our cause or not, they would still be valuable in what we are trying to achieve.”
Hytham wasn’t sure whether he agreed with that or not. He’d like to hope that anyone who joined the Hidden Ones did it because they believed in the cause. But for now, this was enough between them.
They walked on in silence for a while before Basim spoke again. “You said goodbye to the boy, then.” It wasn’t a question. “Are you all right?”
Hytham considered his feelings, then nodded. “It was hard, but don’t all children eventually outgrow the need for their parents? It’s not so different in this case.”
Basim sighed, his gaze very far away, as if sifting through memory. “One hopes they do,” he said. “Outgrow, outlive, carry on a legacy. It’s not always that way.”
“No,” Hytham said, “that’s true.”
Unexpectedly, Basim laughed. It was a warm sound, but there was little humor in it. “We’re all living the same story over and over again, Hytham,” he said, his gaze turning to the horizon. “That we learn from it each time, I suppose, is the best we can hope for.”
Once again, the enigmatic man left Hytham with nothing to say in response, but this time he wasn’t worried. Basim had his secrets, and his pain, but he was right. Their stories would continue for now, their bit of history carved into this golden city, though even the mark they left would vanish. Someday, both of them would be forgotten, and even the impenetrable walls of Constantinople could not hold forever against the passage of time.
Acknowledgments
To the team at Aconyte books and wonderful editors Gwen and Lottie, who took turns shepherding this book from proposal to finished product, and who always made me feel I was in good hands. You both rock. To the Ubisoft teams who gave me Constantinople and offered their feedback and support, thank you for letting me play in your universe. It was a privilege and a heck of a fun ride. To my fantastic agent, Sara Megibow, thank you for always having my back and encouraging me to go for it, no matter what wild idea (or how many) I bring your way. And finally, to Tim and to my dad and Jeff, thank you for your patience during that very long and crazy summer. The books wouldn’t get written without you. I love you guys.
