Read Online Assassin's Creed: Underworld by Oliver Bowden - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Oliver Bowden
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thought Ethan, gazing
at him from the doorway.
First things first, though.
The Assassin put a fist to his nose and mouth, as
much to replace the stink of the cell with the familiar scent of his own skin as to register his
dismay at his former pupil’s predicament. The possibility that he himself could have done
more to prevent the situation sharpened his regret, and the look in Jayadeep’s eyes as he
turned his gaze from contemplating his lap to finding his old tutor in thedoorway, a penetrating, heart-wrenching stare of gratitude, relief, sorrow and shame, only
sharpened it further.
‘Hello, master,’ said Jayadeep
simply.
It wasn’t particularly pleasant, but Ethan
took a seat beside Jayadeep, the two men together again, circumstances so different this time,
the smell of jasmine a memory of an ancient and now unattainable past.
Ethan reached a hand to pluck at the rags
Jayadeep wore. ‘They stripped you of your robes then?’
Jayadeep gave a rueful look. ‘There’s
a little more to it than that.’
‘In that case, how about we start with you
telling me what happened?’
The boy gave a short, sad snort. ‘You mean
you don’t already know?’
Ethan had arrived in Amritsar to find the
Brotherhood in mild disarray, a more than usually visible presence as they worked to nullify the
repercussions of what had taken place. So, yes, of course he knew the story. But even so …
‘I’d like to hear it from the
horse’s mouth, as it were.’
‘It’s difficult for me to talk
about.’
‘Please try.’
Jayadeep sighed. ‘Your training had shaped
my mind and body into a series of responses and reactions, into combinations of attack and
defence, calculations, forecast and prognostication. I was ready to go into action in all but
one respect. You were right, master, I lacked the heart. Tell me, how did you know?’
Ethan said, ‘If I were to say to you that
it all came downto the difference between a wooden training kukri and the
real thing, would you believe me?’
‘I would think it was part of the story.
But just part.’
‘You would be right, Jayadeep. For the
truth is that I saw in your eyes something I have seen in the eyes of men I killed; men whose
very own lack of heart in combat was a weakness I recognized and exploited in order to plunge my
blade into them.’
‘And you thought you saw it in
me?’
‘I did. And I was right, wasn’t
I?’
‘We thought you were wrong. Father believed
I could be instilled with the mettle needed to be a killer. He set about showing me the way. We
practised and rehearsed with live subjects.’
‘Putting an animal to the sword is very
different to –’
‘I know that now.’ The words came out
sharply. A little of the old master–pupil interaction returned and Jayadeep lowered
fearful eyes in apology. ‘I know that now, master, and believe me I regret it.’
‘But you and Arbaaz felt that you were
ready to take the life of one of your own species, to take from a man everything he ever was and
everything he ever will be, to leave his family grieving, to begin a wave of sadness and sorrow
and possible revenge and recrimination that might ripple throughout the ages? You and your
father felt you were ready for that?’
‘Please, master, don’t make this more
difficult for me. Yes, you are right, in the face of what you say, our preparations might seem
dreadfully feeble, but then again, what Assassin can claim differently? Everything is theory
until itis put into practice. And my turn came to put theory into practice.
For my blooding I was to kill an Indian Templar by the name of Tjinder Dani. A man we believed
was making plans to establish a Templar outpost in the city.’
‘And what was to be the method of his
execution?’
‘The garrotte.’
Inwardly Ethan cursed. A garrotte. Of all things.
You didn’t need a huge amount of skill to use a garrotte, but you needed resolve, and what
Jayadeep had was plenty of skill but not so much resolve. What
at him from the doorway.
First things first, though.
The Assassin put a fist to his nose and mouth, as
much to replace the stink of the cell with the familiar scent of his own skin as to register his
dismay at his former pupil’s predicament. The possibility that he himself could have done
more to prevent the situation sharpened his regret, and the look in Jayadeep’s eyes as he
turned his gaze from contemplating his lap to finding his old tutor in thedoorway, a penetrating, heart-wrenching stare of gratitude, relief, sorrow and shame, only
sharpened it further.
‘Hello, master,’ said Jayadeep
simply.
It wasn’t particularly pleasant, but Ethan
took a seat beside Jayadeep, the two men together again, circumstances so different this time,
the smell of jasmine a memory of an ancient and now unattainable past.
Ethan reached a hand to pluck at the rags
Jayadeep wore. ‘They stripped you of your robes then?’
Jayadeep gave a rueful look. ‘There’s
a little more to it than that.’
‘In that case, how about we start with you
telling me what happened?’
The boy gave a short, sad snort. ‘You mean
you don’t already know?’
Ethan had arrived in Amritsar to find the
Brotherhood in mild disarray, a more than usually visible presence as they worked to nullify the
repercussions of what had taken place. So, yes, of course he knew the story. But even so …
‘I’d like to hear it from the
horse’s mouth, as it were.’
‘It’s difficult for me to talk
about.’
‘Please try.’
Jayadeep sighed. ‘Your training had shaped
my mind and body into a series of responses and reactions, into combinations of attack and
defence, calculations, forecast and prognostication. I was ready to go into action in all but
one respect. You were right, master, I lacked the heart. Tell me, how did you know?’
Ethan said, ‘If I were to say to you that
it all came downto the difference between a wooden training kukri and the
real thing, would you believe me?’
‘I would think it was part of the story.
But just part.’
‘You would be right, Jayadeep. For the
truth is that I saw in your eyes something I have seen in the eyes of men I killed; men whose
very own lack of heart in combat was a weakness I recognized and exploited in order to plunge my
blade into them.’
‘And you thought you saw it in
me?’
‘I did. And I was right, wasn’t
I?’
‘We thought you were wrong. Father believed
I could be instilled with the mettle needed to be a killer. He set about showing me the way. We
practised and rehearsed with live subjects.’
‘Putting an animal to the sword is very
different to –’
‘I know that now.’ The words came out
sharply. A little of the old master–pupil interaction returned and Jayadeep lowered
fearful eyes in apology. ‘I know that now, master, and believe me I regret it.’
‘But you and Arbaaz felt that you were
ready to take the life of one of your own species, to take from a man everything he ever was and
everything he ever will be, to leave his family grieving, to begin a wave of sadness and sorrow
and possible revenge and recrimination that might ripple throughout the ages? You and your
father felt you were ready for that?’
‘Please, master, don’t make this more
difficult for me. Yes, you are right, in the face of what you say, our preparations might seem
dreadfully feeble, but then again, what Assassin can claim differently? Everything is theory
until itis put into practice. And my turn came to put theory into practice.
For my blooding I was to kill an Indian Templar by the name of Tjinder Dani. A man we believed
was making plans to establish a Templar outpost in the city.’
‘And what was to be the method of his
execution?’
‘The garrotte.’
Inwardly Ethan cursed. A garrotte. Of all things.
You didn’t need a huge amount of skill to use a garrotte, but you needed resolve, and what
Jayadeep had was plenty of skill but not so much resolve. What
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