Ask Altair 15- Darim and Sef

March 26th, 1210

Mona asks:

"Master Altair,

I know that you love your 2 sons so much, but can you tell us any more moments between you and your sons?

Peace and safety,"

Upon you as well, friend.

You wish me to tell you a story. I will oblige.

An interesting tale unfolded last year when I taught my two children, Sef and Darim, how to mount and ride a horse. Maria, my wife, had been very much opposed to this outing, and it took many days' arguing for her to relent. Eventually, I did triumph and when the weather was stable enough, my sons and I descended the mountain of Masyaf with two steeds in our possession.

It was at the peak of the hill that I taught the boys how to approach a horse. Sef was the greater challenge, being only twelve years of age, but he made do. Soon, both of my children were settled somewhat anxiously in their saddles. I collected the horses' reigns and slowly led them down the mountain, watching Darim and Sef carefully should either of them threaten to fall.

We followed Masyaf's main road to level ground, keeping the sea to our right. I began at a crawl speed, but as the children grew accustomed to the grinding of the horses' movements beneath them, I increased our pace. The air stayed crisp and warm, and the breeze was tolerable. All in all, I could not have picked a better day for riding. I remember thinking at that time how Maria's predictions of gloom and despair could possibly find purchase in such pleasant surroundings.

When we reached territory's edge, I turned left, leaving the road and entering the grassy wilderness. Sef was nervous about this detour, but I assured him that we were to stay within a mile or two of the main road. Besides for that, the horses were well-trained Masyaf steeds, and they knew to return to the water's edge to find home. There was a large area beside the road, completely empty of obstacles save for an old ruin or two. It was the perfect track for training.

We proceeded for another quarter of an hour before I allowed the horses to pull to a stop. I helped Sef climb down from his steed and informed Darim that he would be the first to learn.

Things continued smoothly for the remainder of the morning. Darim was an exceptional horseman and picked up the skills of the sport with an ease I almost envied. At first I'd encouraged him to advance gradually, but within the next hour Darim was grinning as he ordered his horse to trot circles around his brother, who was frowning into a treatise I did not remember him bringing.

After Darim successfully galloped from one end of the track to the other, I decided it was Sef's turn. The boys were given a few minutes to chew through the rolls and meats Maria had packed them, and to douse themselves with water. Then, Sef propelled himself into his steed's saddle while Darim sat in the dirt to watch.

Sef lacked much of Darim's confidence, but inherited the same amount of balance. My youngest son was able to keep himself steady on the horse, so long as the animal maintained a constant speed. However, we had only progressed to the canter when disaster struck.

A snake had the audacity to slither out from the brush at the exact moment Sef politely asked his horse to accelerate. Wretched creature! To this day I do not recall how such a development had escaped my watch, but before I could do anything a hiss stung the air.

The reptile coiled itself not an inch from the horse's hoof, preparing to lash out. Its rattle of warning startled the mount, which then proceeded to shriek with fright.

The horse reared and my heart skipped several beats. Fortunately, Sef managed to cling to its mane, yelping in fear and surprise. Then the animal turned abruptly and launched into a full gallop back for the main road to Masyaf.

For a moment, Darim and I merely stood in silence. Then, once again preempting my action, Darim leapt onto the other horse and spurred it into a dash, racing after his brother.

I pursued them as fast as I could, but not even my great speed can compare to a horse's sprint. I called after my sons desperately, only hoping that they had not been hurt. Their figures were disappearing over the horizon, but Sef's screams could still be heard on the wind. I could scarcely make out Darim as he lined his horse beside Sef's and extended an arm to him. I ran faster, pouring every ounce of power in my body into my own two legs. Provided we all survived this ordeal, Maria would have my hide.

Finally, as I knew it must, the horse reached the main road. It did not, however, turn right and proceed to the castle. Instead, the animal continued to dash towards the sea, completely oblivious to the cliff it was about to fall over. Both horses were moving far too fast to slow down in time.

The next few seconds will remain forever stamped on my memory:

Darim threw himself from his saddle and tackled Sef off his mount. Seconds stretched into minutes as my sons collided and thudded into the dirt, their steeds crying as they pitched over the edge.

I hurried to them, painfully noticing the lack of movement on both sides as I approached. Darim and Sef lay sprawled on top of one another, and each boy was matted with sand and dirt. I knelt beside my children and hastily pulled them apart, hands trembling with fear they had been injured. I called Darim's name, and he coughed lightly in response. Slowly, he opened his eyes, bleary and confused.

When Sef awoke he was pale and stiff. I touched his arm, hoping to help him up, but my grip wounded him severely. The poor boy suffered a dislocated shoulder, which I set to mending right away. I embraced the two of them, a rarity for me. It's ironic… an Assassin twenty-five years, and I had not experienced true fear until I saw my own children limp and motionless.

Maria had…words for me when I returned to her. I earned every lash of her tongue, but still I could feel nothing but relief that there were no lasting injuries upon either of our sons.

I love Darim and Sef so dearly, and to lose one of them would be to lose a part of myself.

[xxx]

Honor upon you,

Altair ibn La Ahad