Chapter 6

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It didn't take long to arrive at Masyaf.

Basilio took them through several self-proclaimed "short-cuts" to save a few hours during the day, simultaneously letting them sleep in longer during the night. Tazim would have otherwise been angry over such things if the shot-cuts hadn't actually worked.

Perhaps it was only his mind hoping those short-cuts were true. Basilio had them go through quiet, empty land which was worrisome at first. Traveling was a new concept to Tazim and the lack of civilization scared him.

As they rode through the day, Tazim made sure to keep his inexperience from showing. Thankfully enough, Basilio made no comment and frequently offered Tazim a drink of water or a moment to rest while on their journey, once even in exchange for an apple from Tazim's satchel which he easily shared.

Though the journey was tiresome, their destination was at last in full view as the two young men crossed over a small hill, careful on their descent through roughened terrain. All on account of the Novice himself they made it in one piece, no matter his strange and annoying ways.

The Masyaf castle stood boldly as Tazim paused to gaze at it, and for the briefest of moments, it scared him immensely. There was no turning back, not when he'd finally arrived after years of waiting in the slums. He would find his father.

"Novice, if I prove myself worthy, where will I be put?" Tazim eagerly asked, guiding his mare to trot alongside his companion when they hit solid ground. Having been busy with their travels, Tazim had no time to think of what would happen after his acceptance.

Basilio scoffed, chewing on a piece of dried meat. He stared at Tazim, annoyed with his lack of manners before finally giving in.

"Officially, I am no longer a novice," Basilio attempted at being serious, deepening his voice, "As for worthy? If you have thirst for blood and a fast hand, Abbas will accept you."

Had the Order truly lowered its expectations so drastically? The shame was just how truthful Basilio's words were. Abbas cared only for men who were loyal to him and able to hold their own in a fight if ever confronted, as well as be menacing and intimidating to collect taxes and make deals with others.

"That is all?"

Basilio grimaced, whether from Tazim's question or his poor meal was uncertain. He spit what little meat he had in his mouth and tossed the rest before answering, "Whatever you've heard of the Assassin's, crooked, bloodthirsty imbeciles, believe it, because it is true. We are under the rule of the Master do not forget. Become that and the Master will be sure to welcome you."

Become loyal to a man who'd putridly stained Tazim's family.

It would prove to be a challenge, but Tazim accepted it, nonetheless. He had one goal in mind, and he would do whatever it took to reach it. He would make his father proud and gain answers. Just the same, Tazim pondered, if there were those who were loyal there must also have been others who went against the Master, surely.

"And those who defy him?" Tazim asked, squinting in the sunlight.

Basilio shrugged. The warm skin hidden beneath his hood had become stained a light pink from the heat and was slick with sweat. He wiped at his forehead and cheeks with his sleeve, leaving it damp and dirty. He kept his head leaned back the slightest bit, his eyes on the Masyaf castle and the village before it.

"None would dare. Perhaps there was a time before..." his voice trailed off for a moment, he took hold of his reins once more, "But those men were put to death. There are enough graves to prove the viciousness of the Order. Now, enough questions, we have arrived."

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