the-secret-crusade-oliver-bowden

Altaïr pulled himself up to the roof, crouching low and making his way
across, one eye on another archer further across the compound, ready to
dive out of view if he turned.
Below him de Montferrat was making his way across the fortress,
shouting orders and insults at all who dared be in his vicinity.
Altair came upon the next archer. A knife throw later, the man lay
sprawled dead on the roof. Altaïr glanced down at him as he passed,
keeping low, seeing the body cease to twitch.
A third archer. Altaïr disposed of him. Now he controlled the roof; he
had an escape route for when the deed was done. All that remained was
to do it.
Below him, de Montferrat passed through a set of inner gates and
Altaïr watched him upbraid the guard for some minor infraction as he
did so. Then he was moving into the courtyard of a keep, a kind of inner
sanctum for him, perhaps. Altaïr shadowed him from the walkway
above. He kept out of sight but nobody looked upwards. They had no
need to – or so they thought.
Now de Montferrat took his place behind a table at one side of the
courtyard. ‘Men,’ he was saying, ‘gather round. Heed well my words.’
They took positions around him and Altaïr saw that, though they
wore the same uniform, they were different from those stationed in the
outer curtain. These were more grizzled and looked battle-hardened. If
Altaïr was right, they would be de Montferrat’s personal force. He wasn’t
going to make the mistake of thinking them ‘little challenge’ again.
In the courtyard, de Montferrat continued, ‘I come from speaking
with the King, and the news is grim. We stand accused of failing in our
duties. He does not recognize the value of our contributions to the