Also in the Assassin’s Creed series Renaissance Brotherhood Assassin’s Creed The Secret Crusade OLIVER BOWDEN PENGUIN BOOKS PENGUIN BOOKS Published by the Penguin Group Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd) Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi – 110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England www.penguin.com First published 2011 Copyright © 2011 Ubisoft Entertainment All Rights Reserved Assassin’s Creed, Ubisoft and the Ubisoft logo are trademarks of Ubisoft Entertainment in the US and/or other countries All artworks are the property of Ubisoft Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser ISBN: 978-0-14-196671-7 Contents Assassin’s Creed: The Secret Crusade Prologue Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Epilogue Dramatis Personae Acknowledgements Prologue The majestic ship creaked and groaned; its sails rippled, fat with wind Days from land, it split the ocean towards the great city in the west, carrying precious cargo: a man – a man the crew knew only as the Master He was among them now, alone on the forecastle deck, where he had lowered the cowl of his robes to let himself be lashed by seaspray, sipping at it with his face in the wind Once a day he did this He appeared from his cabin to pace the deck, chose a spot to gaze out at sea, then returned below Sometimes he stood on the forecastle, sometimes on the quarter-deck Always he stared out at the whitecrested sea Every day the crew watched him They worked, calling to one another on deck and in the rigging, each with a job to do, while all the time stealing glances at the solitary, pensive figure And they wondered, What kind of man was he? What kind of man was in their midst? Furtively they studied him now as he stepped away from the deck railings and pulled up his hood He stood there a moment with his head bowed, his arms hanging loosely at his sides, and the crew watched him Perhaps a few of them even paled as he strode along the deck past them and back to his cabin And when the door shut behind him, each man found that he had been holding his breath Inside, the Assassin returned to his desk and sat, pouring a beaker of wine before reaching for a book and pulling it towards him Then opening it Beginning to read Part One 19 June 1257 Maffeo and I remain at Masyaf and will stay here for the time being At least until one or two – how shall I put this? – uncertainties are resolved In the meantime we remain at the behest of the Master, Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad Frustrating as it is to surrender dominion of our own paths in this way, especially to the leader of the Order, who in his old age wields ambiguity with the same ruthless precision he once wielded sword and blade, I at least benefit from being privy to his stories Maffeo, however, has no such advantage and has grown restless Understandably so He tires of Masyaf He dislikes traversing the steep slopes between the Assassin’s fortress and the village below, and the mountainous terrain holds little appeal for him He is a Polo, he says, and after six home in Masyaf to find just a few Assassins left, most of whom were occupied in the construction of the Master’s library When it was complete, Darim was dispatched to Constantinople to locate my brother and me Which brings us to our entrance into the story, some eighty years after it began ‘But it is not over yet, I feel,’ Maffeo said He stood waiting for me We were due to see the Master in the main courtyard For what was surely the last time, we wound our way through the fortress to the courtyard, led by Altaïr’s faithful steward, Mukhlis As we arrived I thought, What sights it has seen, this courtyard Here was where Altaïr first saw Abbas, standing in the dead of night, pining for his stricken father Here was where the two had fought and become enemies; where Altaïr had been shamed in front of the Order by Al Mualim; where Maria had died, Abbas, too None of this would have been lost on Altaïr, who had gathered most of the Assassins to hear what he had to say Darim was among them, with his bow, the young Malik, too, and Mukhlis, who took his place beside the Master on the dais outside his tower Nerves fluttered like moths in my stomach and I found myself taking short, jagged breaths to try to control them, finding the background noise of battle disconcerting The Mongols, it seemed, had chosen this moment to launch another of their attacks on the castle, perhaps aware that its defences were temporarily depleted ‘Brothers,’ said Altaïr, standing before us, ‘our time together was brief, I know But I have faith that this codex will answer any questions you have yet to ask.’ I took it and turned it over in my hands, in awe of it It contained the Master’s most important thoughts, distilled from decades of studying the Apple ‘Altaïr,’ I said, barely able to form words, ‘this gift is … invaluable Grazie.’ At a sign from Altair, Mukhlis stepped forward with a small bag that he handed to the Master ‘Where will you go next?’ asked Altaïr ‘To Constantinople for a time We can establish a guild there before returning to Venice.’ He chuckled ‘Your son Marco will be eager to hear his father’s wild stories.’ ‘He is a little young for such tales But one day soon, sì.’ I grinned He passed the bag to me and I felt several heavy objects inside it shift ‘A last favour, Niccolò Take these with you, and guard them well Hide them if you must.’ I raised my eyebrows, implicitly asking his permission to open the bag and he nodded I peered inside, then reached in and removed a stone, one of five: like the others it had a hole in its centre ‘Artefacts?’ I asked I wondered if these were the artefacts he had found during his exile at Alamut ‘Of a kind,’ said the Master ‘They are keys, each one imbued with a message.’ ‘A message for whom?’ ‘I wish I knew,’ said Altaïr An Assassin came hurrying into the courtyard and spoke to Darim, who moved forward ‘Father A vanguard of Mongols has broken through The village is overrun.’ Altạr nodded ‘Niccolị, Maffeo My son will escort you through the worst of the fighting Once you reach the valley, follow its course until you find a small village Your horses and provisions are waiting for you there Be safe, and stay alert.’ ‘Likewise, Master Take care of yourself.’ He smiled ‘I’ll consider it.’ And with that the Master was gone, already barking orders to the Assassins I wondered if I would ever see him again as I shouldered the bag of strange stones and held the priceless codex tight What I remember then is an impression of bodies, of shouting, of the ringing of steel, as we were hurried to a residence, and there I huddled in a corner to scribble these words, even as the battle raged outside – but now I shall have to go I can only pray that we will escape with our lives Somehow I think we will I have faith in the Assassins I only hope that I am worthy of Altair’s faith In that respect, only time will tell January 1258 The first day of a new year, and it is with mixed emotions that I wipe the dust from the cover of my journal and begin a clean page, unsure whether this entry marks a fresh beginning or acts as a postscript to the tale that precedes it Perhaps that is for you, the reader, to decide The first news I have to impart I deliver with a heavy heart We have lost the codex That which was given to us by Altaïr on the day of our departure, entrusted to our care, is in the hands of the enemy I shall always be tortured by the moment that I lay bleeding and weeping in the sand, watching the dust kicked up by the hoofs of the Mongol attacking party, one of whom brandished the leather satchel in which I kept the codex, its strap cut Two days out of Masyaf, with our safety assured – or so it had seemed – they had struck Maffeo and I escaped with our lives, though only just, and we took a little solace from the fact that our time with the Master had given us, if not the learning we might have taken from the codex, the faculties to seek out and interpret knowledge for ourselves We resolved that soon we should go east and retrieve it (and thus, alas, delay my earliest opportunity to return to Venice and see my son Marco), but that first we should attend to business in Constantinople, for there was much to Ahead of us lay at least two years’ work, which would be even more demanding without the wisdom of the codex to guide us Even so, we decided that, yes, we had lost the book, but in our heads and hearts we were Assassins, and we were to put our freshly acquired experience and knowledge to good use Thus we have already chosen the site for our trading post, a short jaunt north-west of Hagia Sophia, where we aim to supply the highest quality goods (but of course!) Meanwhile, we shall begin to spread and disseminate the creed of the Assassin, just as we pledged to And at the same time as we begin the process of starting the new guild we have also set about hiding the five stones given to us by Altaïr The keys Guard them well, he had said, or hide them After our experiences with the Mongols we had decided that the keys should be hidden so we set about secreting them around and about Constantinople We are due to hide the last one today, so by the time you read this, all five keys will be safely hidden from the Templars, for an Assassin of the future to find Whoever that may be Epilogue From above him on deck the Assassin heard the sounds of a commotion, the familiar drumming of feet that accompanies the approach to land, crew members rushing from their posts to the prow, shimmying up the rigging or hanging off ropes, shielding their eyes to stare long and hard at the shimmering harbours towards which they were sailing, anticipating adventures ahead The Assassin, too, had adventures ahead of him Of course, his would likely be markedly different from the escapades fondly imagined by the crew, which no doubt consisted primarily of visiting taverns and consorting with whores The Assassin almost envied them the simplicity of their endeavours His tasks would be more complicated He closed Niccolò’s journals and pushed the book away from him on the desk, his fingers running across the ageing cover, mulling over what he had just learned, the full significance of which, he knew, would take time to make itself known And then, with a deep breath, he stood, pulled on his robe, secured the mechanism of the blade to his wrist and pulled up his cowl Next, he opened the hatch of his appear on deck where he, too, shielded cast his gaze upon the harbour as the through the sparkling water towards gathered there already to welcome them Ezio had arrived in the great city Constantinople quarters to his eyes to ship sliced it, people He was in Dramatis Personae Niccolò Polo, the narrator Maffeo Polo The Assassins Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad Maria, his wife (née Thorpe) Darim and Sef, their sons Al Mualim, the Master Faheem al-Sayf Umar Ibn-La’Ahad, Altaïr’s father Abbas Sofian Ahmad Sofian, Abbas’s father Malik Al-Sayf Tazim, Malik’s son, also known as Malik Kadar, Malik’s brother Rauf Jabal Labib Swami Farim Masyaf villagers Mukhlis, his wife, Aalia, and daughter, Nada The Crusades Richard I of England, ‘the Lionheart’ Salah Al’din, Sultan of the Saracens Shihab Al’din, his son Altaïr’s Nine Targets Tamir, black-market merchant Abu’l Nuqoud, the Merchant King of Damascus Garnier de Naplouse, the Grand Master, the Knights Hospitalier Talal, a slave trader Majd Addin, regent of Jerusalem William de Montferrat, lord of Acre Sibrand, Grand Master, the Knights Teutonic Jubair al-Hakim, chief scholar of Damascus Robert de Sable, Grand Master, the Knights Templar In Cyprus Osman, Limassol citadel captain Frederick the Red, ranking Templar knight of Limassol Armand Bouchart, Robert de Sable’s successor Markos, Resistance Barnabas, Resistance Barnabas, imposter Jonas, a merchant Moloch, ‘The Bull’ Shalim and Shahar, sons of Moloch The Bandits Fahad Bayhas Long Hair Acknowledgements Special thanks to Yves Guillemot Jean Guesdon Corey May Darby McDevitt Jeffrey Yohalem Matt Turner And also Alain Corre Laurent Detoc Sộbastien Puel Geoffroy Sardin Xavier Guilbert Tommy Franỗois Cecile Russeil Christele Jalady The Ubisoft Legal Department Charlie Patterson Chris Marcus Etienne Allonier Maria Loreto Alex Clarke Alice Shepherd Andrew Holmes Clémence Deleuze Guillaume Carmona Table of Contents Assassin’s Creed: The Secret Crusade Prologue Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Epilogue Dramatis Personae Acknowledgements ... leather armour They saw the litters of the noblewomen, the holy men and the disorderly followers at the rear: the families, children and slaves They watched as the invading warriors reached the. ..Also in the Assassin’s Creed series Renaissance Brotherhood Assassin’s Creed The Secret Crusade OLIVER BOWDEN PENGUIN BOOKS PENGUIN BOOKS Published by the Penguin Group Penguin... ‘Of course.’ There was a hush across the citadel as Umar climbed down the ladders of the tower, then took the slope through the barbican, under the arch and to the main gate At the wicket gate