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Shadow Riders	By : Imoshen Category: +A through F > Assassin's Creed Views: 2206 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed nor do I make money by publishing this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
[I actually didn't plan putting Desmond into the story... I decided differently after a nice review I got ;) I hope you'll enjoy wildkat]

He run across the market place as fast as he could, jumping over baskets filled with spices and left shouting merchants behind him as he knocked over their goods. An arrow hit the ground next to his feet and he made a sudden move to his left into a narrow alley, its shadows swallowing him alive as he climbed up a wall quickly. He heard the guards behind him over his own panting, his heart beating wildly inside his chest as his lungs burnt and yet, he didn't stop. He flew across rooftops, his shadow running along earth as he jumped over gaping chasms from one building to the next.

“He's over there!”, he heard one of them calling and looked back over his shoulder watching how another guard climbed a house not too far away from him, pulling an arrow from his back and aiming at him. He came to an abrupt halt as he reached the roof's end, the next house too far away as if he could jump. He didn't have much time thinking and let himself fall down into the busy street underneath him, a hay wagon braking his fall and he landed safely, rolling out onto the street with straw raining from his clothes. A young woman was startled by his sudden appearance and the jug she was carrying fell to a thousand shards onto the ground, water splashing the earth. He tilted his head to one side, smirking smugly and indicating a bow at her. “My apologies my lady”, he told her and watched her blushing, the smirk on his lips only widening.

“Down there!” He looked up, the archer peering over the edge of the roof, pointing down on him and he turned back to the woman, shrugging with his shoulders and pushed her aside and onto the ground to run down the street once more. He could almost see the gate now and it urged him on even more. If he would reach the gate in time, if he could pass it before the guards caught up with him he would be free at last.

Horses were whinnying in panic as he passed them, throwing down their owners and for a second he thought about just grabbing the reins and steal the animal but it wouldn't do him any good riding a horse in a busy city like Jerusalem, too many people and the lack of space would made it difficult for him to reach the gate just in time. He quickly dismissed the thought as he pushed a man aside, his angry shouts vanishing in the rush of adrenaline pumping through his body. He was so close, only three dozen of meters the most and dear god, he could almost taste freedom on his tongue.

“Close the gate, close the gate!”

No, no, no, no!

The muscles in his legs were protesting, his whole body screaming at him for a break but he just quickened his pace, running faster towards Jerusalem's walls and he could see the guards already working the large wheels to lower the gate. Something hit him and for a split second he stumbled but caught his balance quickly. His left shoulder itched and grew warm underneath his torn shirt and he didn't pay it much attention as his vision became blurred, his eyes never leaving the wooden gate in front of him. He could hear the guards behind him, their feet scraping across the ground – they were slowly getting closer and no matter how hard he tried, he got slower not faster. The grinding of the hinges as the gear wheels slowly fell into place when the guards kept lowering the gate was loud in his ears and cutting out every other noise there was. He was almost there and his own breathing was loudly inside his ears, his heart beating and then, for a few seconds it seemed like time stood still. He knew he would only get this one chance and if he didn't take it he would spent the rest of his life in prison or worse, would find death once they captured him. The gate was closing and there were only two options left. He could roll over the ground and make it safely to the other side or he would get crushed underneath it.

He wanted to life and it only gave him one choice. He leaned slightly forwards, turning to his right and knocked a guard over as his shoulder hit the man in the chest. Half a second later he let himself fall, rolling over the dirty street. He held his breath, his eyes wide open and one sharp edge of the gate scratched him somewhere in his face, hot liquid pouring down his throat and he could taste the iron of his blood. Time moved on again and everything played fast forward. He came to a sudden halt, dirt and snow covering his clothes and skin as he breathed heavily, looking towards the gate. It was closed now, the guards standing on the other side and one of them was already aiming at him with an arrow. He quickly stumbled to his feet, seeking shelter behind stacked boxes filled with oranges, the arrow hitting the wood right next to his head. He glanced over his shoulder, the guards faces pulled into a mix of anger and desperation – they knew what was waiting for them if they shouldn't succeed in capturing him.

He couldn't afford pity for them, forcing his body into motion again as he jumped up once more and running over a small stable, grabbing the reins of a horse and mounting it quickly.

“Open the gate you fools!”

He looked back at them, watching how the men worked the large wheels once more but it wasn't an easy task to lift such a heavy gate in a matter of seconds. He smirked at them while he saluted before pulling at the reins of his horse, pressing his heels into the animals flanks and urging it into motion. Even if they would open the gate, they wouldn't be able to catch him now. He lead his horse towards the mountains and off the roads. The weather was bad, the snow high and it was risky to chose the mountains but he had no other choice. He couldn't let them catch him, he'd rather die than getting thrown back into prison.

Desmond's lips pulled into a grim smile as he slumped a little in the saddle, exhaustion finally catching up with him. His lip hurt and when he touched it and pulled his fingers back they were stained with blood. He slowly let his tongue run over the cut, his lips splitting every time he moved them. He didn't know what it looked like but it felt as if the cut was deep enough to need stitches but he didn't have the instruments nor a mirror to stitch himself up. It'll have to heal like that, there wasn't much he could do about it. His shoulder hurt and for the first time he dared a quick glance at it. An broken arrow was sticking to it, blood slowly staining his clothes underneath it and he groaned, gritting his teeth as he pulled it out, a strangled scream escaping his lips. He breathed heavily, nausea rolling in large waves through his body as he sat back up, straightening his back and tilting his head back, looking up the sky as he tried his best to not throw up. He took deep calming breaths and the world stopped spinning.

Finally, he felt his way down his body until his fingers found the bag strapped to his waist and he pulled it free, holding the leather between his fingers and lifting it up to his face, his eyes roaming over it. It felt heavy in his hand and yet warm.

He got it. He really got. He would have never thought he would make it out alive but here he was, free at last with the kingdom's most valuable possession in his hands. The tables had turned and Desmond knew it. He was the most wanted man now and he didn't have any doubt that even children wouldn't hesitate to send him to his doom. He wanted to open the bag to look inside, wanted to see it one more time but he didn't have enough courage to do so. He had witnessed its power and wasn't brave enough to pull it out and let his eyes roam over its golden surface once more. This was it – he held fate in his hands.

He fastened the bag to his belt, clicking his tongue and pulling the reins to the left, leading his horse towards the stone desert. The sun was about to settle and he wanted to find shelter before nightfall. He would need to keep riding the whole next day if he wanted to reach the Border Lands. He didn't want to be any longer up here than necessary. As Desmond made his way further into the mountains a wolf was howling in the distance and goosebumps spread over his skin.

Maybe he held fate in his hands that didn't mean he could control it – fate had already made its plans for Desmond Miles.
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- 5
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Shadow Riders

[I actually didn't plan putting Desmond into the story... I decided differently after a nice review I got ;) I hope you'll enjoy wildkat]