the-secret-crusade-oliver-bowden

one hand Barnabas was an ally. On the other … If Altaïr knew one thing
it was to trust his instincts and his instincts were nagging him now; just
a low, hushed nagging, but insistent nonetheless.
Barnabas was continuing: ‘Yes … unfortunately, this has complicated
things. Jonas was a respected Cypriot and his death has sparked riots
near the Old Church. The public is hungry for revenge and the Bull will
tell them you were responsible. You may lose the support of the
Resistance.’
What? Altaïr stared at him, hardly able to believe his ears. That
instinct of his: it moved from nagging to outright harassment. ‘But Jonas
was a traitor to the Resistance. Did they not know?’
‘Not enough of them, I’m afraid,’ Barnabas admitted. ‘The Resistance
is quite scattered.’
‘Well, you’ll have the chance to tell them yourself,’ said Altaïr. ‘Some
men are on their way to us now.’
‘You’re bringing people here?’ Barnabas looked concerned. ‘People
you can trust?’
‘I’m not sure who I can trust right now,’ said Altaïr, ‘but it’s worth the
risk. Right now I need to see these riots for myself.’
‘As for our bargain, I’ll see what I can do about getting you close to
Bouchart. A deal’s a deal, eh?’ said Barnabas. He smiled again.
Altaïr didn’t care for that smile. He liked it less and less each time he
saw it.