the-secret-crusade-oliver-bowden

this? What are you talking about?’
‘All this time … I never told you I was sorry. Too damned proud. You
lost your arm because of me. Lost Kadar. You had every right to be
angry.’
‘I do not accept your apology.’
‘I understand.’
‘No. You don’t. I do not accept your apology, because you are not the
same man who went with me into Solomon’s Temple, so you have
nothing to apologize for.
‘Malik …’
‘Perhaps if I had not been so envious of you, I would not have been so
careless myself. I am just as much to blame.’
‘Don’t say such things.’
‘We are one. As we share the glory of our victories, so too should we
share the pain of our defeat. In this way we grow closer. We grow
stronger.’
‘Thank you, brother.’
And so it was that Altaïr found himself at the cemetery, a small,
unadorned burial ground, joining a sparse crowd of Templars and
civilians who had gathered around the burial mound of Majd Addin, the
erstwhile city regent.
The body would have been bathed and shrouded and carried in a
procession, then buried on its right side and the hole filled, members of
the procession adding dirt to the grave. As Altaïr entered, an imam was
stepping up to deliver the funeral prayer and a hush had descended over
the holy ground. Most stood with their hands clasped in front of them