“The… cove… south of… Paphos,” Kyros choked, blood bubbling on his lips. “Under the… fallen temple… She waits.”
The trail led to a hidden cove, where a ramshackle pier jutted into the turquoise water. Three guards patrolled. One, a brute in heavy plate, leaned against a crate, picking his teeth. Another, an archer, dozed on a barrel. The third—a scout—paced the shore. psp games assassin's creed
“The fragment,” Altaïr repeated, his voice low as grinding stone. “Where?” “The… cove… south of… Paphos,” Kyros choked, blood
Altaïr moved. Not with the brash fury of his youth, but with the cold economy of a master. The scout vanished first, pulled into the shadow of an overturned dory, a swift blade to the ribs. The archer never woke; a throwing knife lodged in his throat before his next breath. The brute heard the gurgle, turned, and saw only a flicker of white and red. One, a brute in heavy plate, leaned against
The words were a blade of their own. Altaïr’s jaw tightened. The failure of his Mentor, the betrayal, still stung.