the-secret-crusade-oliver-bowden

and he had to move fast to defend. She was good, better than some of
the men in his command, and for some moments they traded blows, the
balcony resounding to the ring and clash of steel, punctuated by her
shouts of effort.
Altaïr glanced behind to make sure no reinforcements were arriving.
But then again, of course they wouldn’t. Her people had left her behind.
Clearly her closeness to de Sable had done her no favours with his
replacement.
On they fought. For a heartbeat she had him with his back to the
balustrade, the dark sea over his shoulder and for the same heartbeat he
wondered whether she could best him and what a bitter irony that might
be. But her desperation to win made her careless and Altaïr was able to
come forward, eventually spinning and kicking her feet from beneath
her, then pouncing on her with his blade held to her throat.
‘Returned to finish me off?’ she said defiantly, but he could see the
fear in her eyes.
‘Not just yet,’ he said, though the blade stayed where it was. ‘I want
information. Why are the Templars sailing to Cyprus?’
She grinned. ‘It’s been a long, dirty war, Assassin. Everyone deserves
respite.’
He fought a smile. ‘The more you tell me, the longer you live. So I ask
again, why the retreat to Cyprus?’
‘What retreat? King Richard has brokered a truce with Salah Al’din,
and your Order is leaderless, is it not? Once we recover the Piece of
Eden, you’ll be the one running.’
Altaïr nodded, understanding. Knowing, too, that there was much
about the Order the Templars presumed to know but did not. The first