the-secret-crusade-oliver-bowden

guards came forward, their swords drawn.
‘Guards, take his weapon,’ commanded Abbas. ‘You will be more
comfortable without it, Altaïr. Are you wearing your blade?’
Altaïr stretched out his arms as a guard stepped forward to take his
sword. His sleeves fell away to reveal no hidden blade.
‘Now we can begin,’ said Abbas. ‘Please do not waste our time
further. Update us on your quest to neutralize Khan.’
‘Only once you have told me what has happened to Malik,’ growled
Altair.
Abbas shrugged and raised his eyebrows as if to say they were at an
impasse, and of course they were, neither man willing to concede, it
seemed. With a grunt of exasperation, Altaïr began his story, rather than
prolong the stand-off. He related his journeys to Persia, India and
Mongolia, where he, Maria and Darim had liaised with the Assassin
Qulan Gal, and told of how they had travelled to the Xia province
nearby to Xingging, which was besieged by the Mongolian Army, the
spread of Khan’s empire inexorable. There, he said, Altaïr and Qulan Gal
had planned to infiltrate the Mongolian camp. It was said that Khan was
there, too.
‘Darim found a vantage point not far from the camp and, armed with
his bow, would watch over Qulan Gal and me as we made our way
through the tents. It was heavily guarded and we relied on him to
dispose of any guards we alerted or who looked as though they might
raise the alarm.’ Altaïr gazed around the table with a challenging stare.
‘And he performed this duty admirably.’
‘Like father, like son,’ said Abbas, with more than a hint of a sneer in
his voice.