Credere e' VivereEzio knew he was going to miss. He knew that with certainty when he felt his shoulder give and staggered, gasping. His sword dropped from his hand as he clutched at the arrow half buried in his shoulder. He watched it all happen in slow motion, in utter disbelief. He'd not known the archers were anywhere near. Had had no inkling that there were archers at all. He gritted his teeth, fingers slick with blood, as he glared at the soldiers who moved closer weaving their weapons back and forth in menacing arcs.More Like This
The Assassin fought like a feral beast, winded or not, injured or not. He was a handful and that was no mistake. Estefano Reggio swore as his men died around him. The bastard was covered in blood and knives head to foot, seemingly pulling the shiny sleek blades out of thin air. If he'd not known better Estefano would have said the Assassin employed magic. But how magical was a man who stumbled and bled and gasped with every stroke? He was mortal. And this day of Christmas he would di
Malik Al Sayr: ShamblesI want the journals, Malik.More Like This
I stared up from the book Id been reading with cold steel knot in my belly by the hour to see a ghost of a man standing in the doorway, leaning on the side with one shaking arm. The man was more scarecrow than human, the once vigorous frame racked with pain and wounds I could only imagine. And I had a share of my own too. The left arm still wanted acknowledgment of its ghostly existence. But the once empty place in my heart, where my brother had dwelt until his death, battered, sore, was now again filled. The walking corpse in the doorway to my chambers filled that void. It was Altair.
Out of a ravaged pale sunken face eyes gleamed like twin fires of the night watch, two black dots that sparkled with life where every other part of him was shrivelled. I heard the wheeze of his breathing, saw him lean and limp inside pulling the door closed behind him. Altair, once the man I hated above all for a few months. Now a month after the t
Friendship and BrotherhoodAltair dragged himself through the white wet snow, hand clasped to his side to keep the blood in. It was no use, he knew. The wound was too big to cover with one hand. Blood continued to trickle from the slashed flesh. Hed jerked the knife out and left it in the snow some way back. He hoped the pursuers would not see it. His blood was enough of a trail for them to follow.More Like This
His breath was vapour in the air. He crawled on, face frozen in a grim expression of desperate determination. Malik was waiting for him back at that abandoned farm out in the country behind a snow-covered hill. He was no doubt worried that neither Altair nor Abbas were back yet. But he could do nothing they had agreed that he was to be ready to ride out when they got back from the task they had come to do.
The snow hissed under him, yielding to his body. His fingers were frozen from digging through it. His hand was so numb he did not feel it anymore. Nor was he aware of the cold gnawing at him, steadily w
Tomahawks and Briefcases: Chapter 9More Like This
Ellie pressed her face to the window as Kanatsiohareke came into view. The little houses they passed by seemed to just fit in with the forest, as if they had been there all along. Connor drove slowly down the main street, rolling down his window and waving to people as they went by.
Children started to run by the car, squealing and calling out Connor’s Mohawk name. Ellie grinned broadly. This was the happiest she had seen him. He called out something in Mohawk, waving them away as he finally pulled into a drive way.
“Ratonhnhaké:ton! Ratonhnhaké:ton!” a little girl called out as he stepped out of his car. She raced up to him and leaped into his arms. Connor picked her up and spun her around. More kids showed up and started to climb all over him. Soon, he had two boys hanging off his right arm, a little girl on his shoulders, and a boy and a girl clinging to his left leg.
Ellie almost squealed as the kids swarmed him. She rested her arms on top of the Mus