Altaïr welcomed each touch; for all that he seemed half-far away, caught up in remembering the journey he'd just finished, the other half of him could only fixate on her hand, her face, the feel of her next to him. He'd missed his family all along, but it only came into sharp relief how much he'd missed them once he didn't have to anymore.

"We failed, Maria," he said. "At first, I thought things would go well—but then the Crusaders arrived in the spring. They sacked the city, and we had to flee."