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Wisdom, Sorrow Chpt. 2

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He and Malik prepared and played hosts for the next few days, while the Bureau leaders and Assassins arrived from afield. Malik was really more suited to the task of host, but he was happy to assist where he could. He made sure the kitchens and all other provisions were well stocked for the days ahead, a challenge since no one was sure just how long the Conclave would take.

He went in search of the overseer of the garden attendants, just to make sure she knew what to expect. She smiled when she saw him approaching.

"Altair, it's been too long since you've visited," she chided. The two attendants sitting next to her giggled behind their hands as they whispered something he wished he couldn't hear.

He returned her smile with one of his own. "Forgive me, Naima. I've been somewhat busy, to say the least."

"So we've heard. What can I do for you? I sense it is not personal reasons that bring you here."

"Sadly it is not. I take it you've heard of the Conclave we're preparing for?"

"Yes, of course. I've brought in more attendants, dancers, musicians, maids and laundresses. I've ordered extra supplies which should be arriving any time now. Is there something else you would like me to do?"

If only the Brotherhood could run as smoothly as she runs the Garden. He shrugged. "Perhaps you can tell me why I’m here when you obviously have everything well under control?"

"And you're surprised? Tsk, tsk. Now, unless you've decided to make one of these girls' dreams come true, away with you! I'm busy," she said, standing and shooing him away.

He laughed and held up his hands. "Alright, I'm going! Thank you, Naima, and please let me know if I can be of assistance to you."

"Hmph. I expect to see you here soon, Altair. A man can't live on blade alone."

He departed the Garden, still smiling, and went to find Malik. Unless he'd forgotten something, they were as prepared as they could be for the Conclave.


                                           * * *


When all Assassins and Elders had gathered, the gate to the fortress was closed and would remain so until a new Master had been chosen. There could be no distractions from the task before them. The novices were allowed to watch the proceedings from the galleries, but could not directly participate. Only the Elders and the high ranking Assassins would vote after much discussion and debate.

Early in the morning on day one of the Conclave, he and Malik went over the protocols required so they would be prepared. A hush fell over the assembly when they entered the chamber. He took his seat while Malik, who would be mediating the proceedings, called them to order.

As things got underway, he sat quietly and observed. The first item up for discussion was whether to strike Al Mualim from the written histories. There was much contention on the issue, since tradition dictated that traitors be erased from all records. This was a unique situation, however, since it was the Master himself who was the traitor. After all of the Elders had had their say, Malik opened the floor to the Assassins.

Several brothers spoke on both sides of the issue, and it looked as if they were split fairly evenly. Though his anger toward his Master had not yet cooled, he made himself look at the larger picture and what would most benefit the Brotherhood. He took advantage of a lull to voice his thoughts on the matter. "With all due respect to the Elders and brothers who disagree, I think it would be a mistake to discount the years of service that Al Mualim gave to the Brotherhood. He was not always a traitor. Have we not benefited from his wisdom and leadership and become stronger for it? Let his betrayal stand as a lesson that even the best of men is vulnerable to the temptations of power."

"That you of all people have such generous words for him humbles me," Saleem, the most senior Elder commented. He had spoken in favor of honoring tradition.

Never harbor hatred for your enemies. He recalled the sage advice given to him by Al Mualim somewhat bitterly.

"Does anyone else wish to speak on the issue?" Malik asked after a few moments of silence passed. When no one spoke he called for a vote, which though close, resulted in the memory of Al Mualim being preserved.

With that settled they moved on to their main task. The preliminary nominations put forth by the Elders were unsurprisingly for those of their own rank. While they would have the advantage of experience, he wasn't sure that was sufficient. Ghassan, the Bureau leader from Acre, broke from the pattern and nominated him. There was much made of his age and recent troubles, the latter mostly from Abbas, but there was also support from what he considered unlikely sources. It was odd being talked about as if he wasn't there.

Occasionally, someone got insulted or a heated debate ensued, but Malik would intervene and bring them back to peaceful discourse. He was impressed by his friend's diplomatic skills.

The morning, afternoon and early evening passed with no resolution, as did the next day and the day after. That evening, after they'd retired, Malik appeared at his door. They hadn't really had a chance to talk since the Conclave started.

"You've been very quiet in there, brother," Malik observed.

"I suppose so, but it isn't my place to speak while the Elders have the floor. You, though…you've been a very effective mediator."

Malik rolled his eyes. "Not that effective, if the length of the speeches is any indication. Can we not impose a time limit?"

He laughed. "You knew the job was dangerous when you took it."

"Yes, yes. I'm just afraid I'm going to nod off, especially if Rashad launches into one of his history lessons again," he sighed dramatically. "I know I shouldn't be so disrespectful. Anyway, what are your thoughts of the proceedings thus far?"

"We seem to be making little progress so far, but the history says that these things often take days, even weeks. We may be stuck here awhile." He paused, then decided to divulge what had been dominating his thoughts. "I have an idea. One that will most likely cause an uproar."

"You? Create an uproar? I'm shocked," Malik quipped. "What is this idea?"

"I will present it tomorrow, if given the opportunity. Perhaps you could help with that?"

"If the Elders finish, then it will be our turn. I don't think anyone would argue with you speaking first. You're pretty much the only Assassin in the running."

"I think you're mistaken, there. Rashad has mentioned you more than once."

"Rashad has about as much influence as a novice," Malik replied. He gave him a curious look. "You are going to refuse if they offer it to you, aren't you?"

"Not exactly. What I am proposing is a Council of leadership."

"A Council? You mean no more Master? Tell me you're joking. Was it not you who recently reminded me that it is the discipline and protocols of our Creed that keep us strong?"

"I believe a Council would better serve the Brotherhood. It would ensure that no one man holds all the power, thus avoiding what happened with Al Mualim."

"They'll never agree to it. You're talking about disrupting tradition. We've always had a Master, Altair."

He sat down on his bed. "Just because it is tradition doesn't mean it is not flawed, nor does it mean that there's not a better way. Think about it, that's all I ask for now, though I could certainly use your support."

Malik paced slowly back and forth. "On the surface it makes sense, I'll give you that. You realize how it will look to some of the brothers, though. Not everyone is convinced that you have changed. They will see it as more arrogance if you come in trying to put aside years of order and tradition."

"I had not thought of that," he said, frowning as he considered that possibility.

"Let us both think more on it, then. We'll speak in the morning. Safety and peace, friend."

"Rest well, brother. Tomorrow will be interesting, I'm sure."

With a laugh and a nod, Malik left him to his thoughts. At least he hadn't immediately balked at the idea. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that it was the only way to take the Brotherhood into the future. Malik was right, though. It would be hard to convince the Elders and many of his brothers.


                                             * * *


It was mid-day before Saleem declared that the Elders were ready to yield the floor to the Assassins.

"As the Assassin of highest rank, Altair has the privilege of speaking first, but uncharacteristically chooses to speak last," Malik said, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. There was a brief ripple of laughter through the room. "So I will begin by saying that he has my nomination and my complete confidence."

He smiled and shook his head, wondering what exactly his friend was trying to accomplish. He was grateful for the support, but as for the nomination, Malik knew what he had in mind.

"You're too generous with your confidence, Malik," Abbas commented with his usual smugness.

"And your point is?" Malik replied.

"You are the obvious choice, brother."

"I thank you for the sentiment, but I fail to see the connection."

"Given all that has occurred, I find little reason to trust Altair as a brother, much less as a potential Master. He's proven himself volatile and dangerous. It was only a short while ago that he openly threatened my life." Abbas paused for dramatic effect.

"If it were not for Altair, we would all be mindless drones!" one of the novices yelled from the galleries.

"Novices are not permitted to speak during the proceedings," Malik reminded them.

Abbas continued. "Yes, he freed us from Al Mualim, but one good deed does not a Master make. You, on the other hand, have displayed all of the traits of a true and loyal servant of the Brotherhood. Why you allow yourself to be lost in his shadow is beyond me. He has brought nothing but suffering to you and will bring nothing but suffering to us all should we be foolish enough to deliver the Brotherhood into his hands."

As much as his anger burned to rebuke the things said about him, he decided to remain quiet. He would not give the fool the satisfaction of an argument. He had regretted threatening to lodge his blade in his throat, but was reconsidering that at the moment.

Malik responded. "There was a time, not so long ago, when I would have agreed with you. But no longer. Altair has more than proven himself. Ask any of the Bureau leaders. As to losing myself in his shadow, better to be striving in the shadow of greatness than happy in the blindness of ignorance."

He had to cover his face and choke down an entirely inappropriate laugh at the last comment, and as he looked around he saw that he wasn't alone. It was quite obvious who was happy in the blindness of ignorance. He chastised himself and straightened up in his chair, mindful of the eyes of the novices peering down on them all.

Some of the other brothers spoke in turn, nominating himself, Malik, Ghassan and Saleem, with no clear majority, which suited his idea quite well, actually.

By the time all who wished to had spoken, the moon was well on her way into the sky. Malik asked if there any more nominations or comments, and finding none, nodded in his direction. They shared a look that acknowledged the potential chaos he was about to unleash.  

He took a deep breath and stood. "Let me begin by saying that I am grateful to even be among you."

"And we are grateful to you, Altair," Ghassan interjected.

"Thank you, brother. I must confess that the past weeks have been challenging on many levels. I've learned much, yet there's much that remains a mystery. I've come to the conclusion that the best I can do is take what lessons can be found and move forward. My only wish is to see the Brotherhood protected and strong. I hope you will all take what I am about to propose in that spirit.

We were lucky to survive the plotting of Al Mualim. As I said, he contributed a great deal to the Brotherhood, but at the end held us at his mercy. One man came close to destroying everything we stand for." There were nods and a few whispered curses in response. "I believe we should learn from that experience and guard against it in the future. To accomplish this, I propose that instead of one man, one Master, that we elect a Council to lead us."

Dead silence followed, and as he looked around at his brothers, he saw confusion, disbelief and more than a few angry faces. A quiet murmuring built rapidly into a din of voices and laughter.

"You cannot be serious!"

"Let him finish!"

"That is not our way."

The comments being thrown around were much what he'd expected. He waited until the furor died down before continuing. "I understand that our traditions are sacred. But to uphold tradition for its own sake when circumstances change is misguided and dangerous to us all." He glanced out the window. "The hour is late and we are all tired. I only ask that you all consider what I've put forth and bring your concerns and questions to the table tomorrow when we convene."

"Yes, unless there are objections, I think it best if we retire for the evening," Malik said. After most everyone had filed out, he came over and slapped him on the back. "Well that went well."

"I suppose I should be happy that they didn't throw me from the rampart," he replied.

"I don't know about you, but I am in need of strong drink and distraction."

"As tempting as that is, I should keep my wits about me. Enjoy your debauchery, though," he smiled and dropped his voice to a whisper. "And that comment to Abbas? Brilliant."

Malik laughed. "Heh. I thought so."

On his way out he spotted Saleem, who motioned for him to join him. "These old bones have been sitting for too long. Walk with me a little while and tell me more of this revolutionary idea of yours."

"As you wish, though in truth there's not much to tell that I haven't spoken already."

"This Council, how many would comprise it?"

"Five. An odd number to prevent quagmires when decisions must be made, and enough to guard against conspiracy. And I thought it may be prudent to have it written that no more than three of the Council may be away at any given time."

"Hmm, yes. I see the logic in it. Would you be willing to serve on the Council?"

"If called, yes."

"But you do not want to be Master."

"It is a difficult question. I owe the Brotherhood my life, however, and will serve if asked."

Saleem chuckled. "You are so young, Altair. For one as young as yourself or Malik to give up their freedom is a lot to ask. A Council would allow you to serve while still maintaining some of that freedom."

"I cannot deny that that had occurred to me as I pondered the idea." He wondered if he was truly that transparent or if it was Saleem's age and wisdom that had seen into his heart. "And you, brother? Do you want to be Master?"

"Want? As you said, it's a difficult question to answer, but of course I would serve if called. Unlike you, however, my days of craving freedom and experience are behind me. I'm not long for this world."

"Don't say such things."

"Why? It's the truth and I'm perfectly at peace with it. I just would hate for the brothers to have to go through this process again so soon!" he said with a laugh. "Now I must bid you goodnight, young one. I thank you for indulging an old man's curiosity. It eases my mind to know that the Brotherhood has ones such as yourself to look after it when I'm gone."

"It is I who should thank you, Saleem. Rest well, brother." He nodded and headed in the direction of his quarters. He felt better after speaking with Saleem, who despite his humility, held a lot of influence among the brothers. While he didn't come right out and endorse his idea, he was fairly certain that the Elder would at least give it careful thought.

As he started to round the corner he almost ran right into Abbas. He rolled his eyes and went to step around him, but Abbas stepped with him, blocking his progress. Abbas walked forward, forcing him to take two steps back. "Move aside," he warned. "I have no desire to trade barbs with you."

"Nor I you. The time for that has passed. Ironic that you mention barbs, though."

He saw Abbas' eyes flick away to something behind him and instinct made him quickly spin to the left. He saw a man whose face was covered standing a few yards back. He stared at the man's eyes, but couldn't identify him. The man waved at him, which struck him as very odd. Suddenly he felt something stinging his leg and looked down to see a small dart lodged in his thigh. His vision began to swim. Poison? He looked at Abbas. "What…what have you done?" he asked as his knees buckled beneath him.

Abbas grabbed his face. "I have protected the Brotherhood from falling into the hands of another egotistical madman," he hissed before shoving him to the ground. His entire body had gone numb. Everything was spinning, there was a loud roaring in his ears, and then there was nothing.
Treachery! Egads! :P

Feedback welcome and appreciated.
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cpss's avatar
you sure know how to write a cliffhanger!! i don't remember abbas in the game, but then again i didn't pay much attention when they where talking =P
i often learn more about the canon storyline of the whichever fandom i'm in through reading fanfics and then when i read too much, i get confused what really happened and what was in a fanfic lol

anyways, great chapter!! love the plot :) and i love the interaction btw malik and altair!