kingdom of nations

Chapter 287 Broken Wings (5)

Leila had been watching Abigail for thirteen days.

For an Assassin, thirteen is not a very long number. Assassins are often described as carnivorous spiders hiding under bricks and in the soil. They are good at hiding and can endure long periods of silence and darkness until their prey enters their hunting range, at which point they will leap up and accurately and quickly take their lives.

For any Assassin assassin, thirteen days, thirteen weeks, or thirteen months are all perfectly normal tasks, as long as they can complete the work assigned by their elders.

But with the failure of negotiations with Saladin of Egypt and Baldwin of Arrassal, apart from the young people who were still indulging in the fantasy that dying in battle would lead to heaven and be served by seventy-two virgins, the slightly older and wiser people couldn't help but feel a fog of worry in their eyes and hearts, and became confused.

Even their elder Sinan was no exception. What should the Assassins do? Should they really allow this land flowing with milk and honey to continue to fall into a state of turmoil and division, just as Sinan had originally planned, for the sake of the Assassins' existence?

Whether they were fulfilling the prophet's instructions or tarnishing his reputation, they did not know.

Leila had been thinking about it, especially what had happened the previous evening.

As a woman with devilish white hair, Lyra has always been a special presence in the Eagle's Nest.

Male Assassins rarely interact with her, or rather, they don't know how to do so.

In the Saracen world, there are only two kinds of women: the virtuous lady who should be respected and protected, and the lowly prostitute who should be despised and humiliated—but the latter are also indispensable to them.

As colleagues, Leila should be respected by them, but similarly, as a woman, Leila acts like a man, including using her "alluring" persona to navigate relationships with many men, and she has indeed used her bed to gather intelligence and assassinate targets.

For the Assassins, this was merely a means and a method of operation, just as other Assassin members would impersonate Christian monks, recite their scriptures, and kneel before their crosses and icons in order to assassinate a prominent Christian figure—all of which should be forgiven.

But for these men, this is incomprehensible; they don't know what to do with her—to accept her, ignore her, or feel disgusted by her.

The majority of the reaction should be dislike.

As evening fell, when Leila entered the Assassins' Damascus branch, someone questioned her about why she had delayed such a simple task for so long.

Leila was unsure whether she should explain that these Assassins also had eyes and ears, so how could they not know about Abi's situation here?

Indeed, Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch was utterly disappointed in his son. But in any case, he only had this one son, Antioch only had this one heir, and Princess Hibern of Arrassal only had this one husband.

In any case, Abi should not be the first pawn to be discarded.

Bohemond even transferred some of his most trusted and powerful knights to Abigail's side, ensuring that Abigail was always accompanied by a blessed knight, even when he went to the "prayer room"—which was the toilet.

Even though Abigail complained repeatedly, Grand Duke Bohemond of Antioch never gave in.

"But there must be a situation where you can be alone with him, right?"

A male Assassin spoke with a hint of provocation and contempt. The assassins around him looked away; though they didn't agree or endorse it, it was clear they deeply agreed.

Compared to them, isn't Lyra's biggest advantage simply that she's a woman? And a woman with devilish beauty at that?

If she were to regain her "beautiful" identity and walk up to Abigail, Abigail would surely take her into his tent without hesitation. And when the two of them were reveling, even with the Grand Duke's orders, the knight would not dare to keep a close eye on the reveling men and women.

Would Lyra do that? She might do it if she couldn't find an opportunity.

But she had to consider that there were quite a few people in Damascus who knew "Qiyan" Leila, and several who knew her identity.

But this explanation wasn't meant for these people. She silently took a step forward, and before anyone could react, she kicked out, striking the man's shinbone. The intense pain caused the male Assassin to fall to the ground immediately. But he was, after all, an assassin. As he fell, he drew his scimitar and swung it.

It hit—Lyra's afterimage.

Lyra had already leaped behind him, and with a swift knee strike, she struck his lower back, where it caved in. Had the assassin not been inspired by the prophet, this blow would have been fatal, but now he could still howl.

Before the people around him could pounce, Leila had already grabbed the back of his neck—in the paradise deep in the Alamut Mountains, they had caressed the hands of virgins countless times; their hands were as soft as rose petals. He dared not exert any force; those delicate hands were so fragile that they trembled and could not bear even when lifting a golden cup.

The hand that landed on the back of his neck was like a black iron shackle, or a ferocious venomous snake. It coiled around him, instantly making his vision go black and his mind go blank. Amid the gasps of the crowd, Leila ripped off his turban with a single stroke. With a flash of light, the guy who dared to provoke him was instantly reduced to half a head of hair.

Half of his head was bald, while the other half still had thick black hair, as did the mustache that grew on his lips and cheeks.

Laila wiped the blade against his neck, and with a flick of her fingers, she sheathed the scimitar again. She tossed the assassin to her companion as if discarding a piece of trash, then walked expressionlessly toward Elder Sinan's room.

Elder Sinan had already heard the whole story from his servants. He couldn't blame Leila, but he also wouldn't pursue the Assassin member.

"Consider it a test from God for you."

"It has been tested many times."

Lyra's rebuttal drew a hint of anger from Elder Sinan. "You are a woman, Lyra. You should know that I have paid a heavy price to keep you and your sisters in the Eagle's Nest."

“He humiliated me.”

"Half of it is true, and your mistake doesn't stop there, Lyra. That was an Assassin who had received prophetic guidance."

You know what I mean.

Leila nodded blankly.

“If you are suspected again and the other elders of the Assassins question me, I will no longer protect you.”

You will pay the price for your mistakes. You are one of my favorite students; you are intelligent, quick-witted, and brave, but you cannot challenge your predetermined fate because of that, unless you can leave your current body and be reborn into a man's body.

"But!……"

“This is the law established by God!” Sinan shouted. “Laila. Even among Christians, women are not allowed to enter the church to pray for the protection of the saints. They have neither the right nor the possibility.”

Like them, in our community, women who rebel against the law are seen as devils. Lyra, I don't want my final judgment to be your death.

Elder Sinan stood up, his back to Lyra—he had been exhausted in the past few days, his schemes against Baldwin and Saladin had all failed, and he had even been used by Saladin. His opponents had seized this rare opportunity to deliberately incite discontent against him within the Eagle's Nest.

Even when his power was at its most secure, he would not reprimand an Assassin who had received prophetic guidance for the sake of Layla. He had already devoted himself to Layla, almost more than to his own daughter, and he could not possibly give her any more.

“Laila,” he said, “don’t come back before you kill Abigail, and I will never see you again.”

Leila opened her mouth, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, the light in her eyes dimmed as the elder's figure remained unmoved.

“Yes, sir,” she said softly, then turned and left without hesitation.

Perhaps she should have done this sooner, as those people expected, taking advantage of being a woman. This is neither the first nor the last time.

Lyra even had an impulse to leap out of the weeds that concealed her and charge at the Christian knights. She might be able to kill Abigail, but she would surely die in the siege of these male knights who were also blessed by God.

She knew her end would not be bright.

While the male Assassins yearned to ascend to Paradise where seventy-two virgins served them, she knew she would inevitably descend into Hellfire—and every female Assassin would face the same fate, burdened by sin and unable to be forgiven for disobeying the prophet's warnings to women.

But why? Lyra often asked herself this question in the darkness. Had she really done something wrong? No.

She was an infant when her father decided to throw her into the ditch, and she was just a child when she was treated as a commodity to be sold. Weren't men doing those things that were considered crimes? They did even more than she did.

Things shouldn't be like this, Leila told herself, but what should they be like? She didn't know.

A knight galloped swiftly towards them, catching Lyra's attention. She positioned herself downwind of the group to avoid attracting the hounds with her scent. Along with the whistling wind came fragmented conversation… “Sarazans, caravan, women…”

Without hesitation, Lyra lowered her body even further. Sure enough, the knights immediately mounted their horses and galloped off towards a certain place, following her target, Abigail.

Lyra lay there quietly until they disappeared from her sight before quickly leaving her hiding place and going to a secluded spot to untie her horse's reins.

She followed the scents and sounds in the air and soon saw the caravan being besieged by Christian knights led by Abigail. The caravan had dozens of fierce guards, and to Lyra's surprise, there was even a "scholar" among them who had received the title of Prophet Knight. She couldn't help but feel a sense of astonishment.

But she immediately realized that this might not be an ordinary caravan, but rather a disguised mission, or a group escorting an emir or a Fatah family member.

She was right, for soon someone tried to protect a woman in the caravan as she broke through, but they failed. The woman had to retreat back into the caravan, and in the struggle, her headscarf fell to the ground. Before the servants picked it up and handed it back to her, Lyra, with her hawk-like eyesight, recognized the other person's face.

Leila's heart sank. She had been ordered by Elder Sinan to spy on Sultan Saladin's movements, even though they both knew that Saladin's assassination had nothing to do with the Assassins.

Saladin was well disguised; the sounds of prayer, the smell of medicine, and the smoke of spices constantly filled the tent.

Surprisingly, the person who came out to meet those treacherous Emirs and Fatah during that period was not Saladin's brother Turanshah, but his sister Emina.

For this reason, Leila observed her several times, and even once disguised herself as a maid in the camp and spoke to her. Emina left a very deep impression on him. Although he heard that she had a big disagreement with her brother Saladin because she wanted to return to her husband, Governor Holmes, she was the first to stand up when Saladin really needed help.

Although Emina was a woman, few dared to underestimate her. She did not have Saladin's power and prestige, but she had eyes that could see into people's hearts. It is said that during the most critical days, she even stabilized the entire situation by relying on her understanding of those greedy people until Saladin awoke.

Even when surrounded by a pack of hyenas, she showed no sign of panic.

Even after her breakout attempt failed and she retreated back into the convoy, she only frowned slightly before quickly wrapping her headscarf back up. Her back remained straight as she stared at the ruthless bandits, her lips tightly pressed together, without uttering a sound. It seemed that she would never reveal her identity unless it was the very last moment.

Leila was no longer willing to wait.

Based on his understanding of Emina and Abigail, he knew that this matter would not end after Emina revealed her identity. Even though a peace treaty had been signed with Saladin and the governor of Damascus—the Crusaders—they were obligated to maintain respect for each other's women and children and refrain from further aggression.

But for Abigail...

Lyra sped away, while one of the knights guarding Abigail looked in the direction she had come from with a puzzled expression, hesitated for a moment, but said nothing.

Lyra has very few options.

Even if the tribal chiefs around Damascus are trustworthy, Laila will not be able to gain their trust in a short time and lead their warriors to support her. Not to mention, because of the previous battles, the nearby tribes have all moved some distance away, and Laila may not be able to find them immediately.

The only city near Damascus was Bosra, which fell earlier than Damascus and, like Damascus, was now filled with Crusader knights and merchants.

She should perhaps seek out the King of Arazarus; that young monarch would not allow anyone to break his alliance with the Saracens. However, given her current status, it would be difficult for her to reach the Christian king. But there was another person…

Judging from the time of day, he should be in the patrol team.

Without further hesitation, Laila sped off in one direction, feeling the gradually cooling evening breeze whistling past her like blades, while praying aloud in her heart that God would help her find Cesar in time.

And it seemed that God did indeed grant Laila unusual luck, as if He did not want to see such a tragedy happen. Before the sun had completely disappeared, Laila finally saw the crimson flag.

(End of this chapter)