A Very Strange Monk...

The streets of Jerusalem were crowded and smelly. The sun was hot, but that had not kept many people from getting out of their houses and attending their usual duties. Noises were coming from everywhere. Feet dragged on the dusty ground, the laughs of the children, even music, but the most prominent of them all were the shouts of the merchants who were desperately trying to sell their goods before they became rotten in the tremendous heat.

"Come, let me show you what I have to offer!" a chubby, short man yelled from behind his stand. The wide smile on his face faded slowly when he saw that the monk he addressed to didn't even bother to look in his direction. He watched him making his way through the crowd with sure steps, shifting his weight from one foot to another in a steady rhythm and gently pushing aside anyone who stood in his way.

"Strange monk," muttered the merchant while whipping the sweat from his forehead with a dirty rag.

Altair ignored the fat man's invitation completely and cursed in his mind the two men who blocked his way. He hated walking on these busy streets! Using the rooftops would have been a much shorter and simpler route to the Assassin's Bureau, but he didn't want to attract any unwanted attention. Not now, when he was so close to completing his mission here in Jerusalem. Plus, the long road gave him more time for thinking about what he was supposed to say to Malik, excepting the information he had learned about his target. Although he wouldn't admit that to anyone, he was feeling guilty about what had happened at the Solomon's Temple. Malik had lost his brother and his arm and there was no one else to blame but him.

The Assassin had already decided that it would be best not to talk to Malik at all about the incident when the screams of a child pierced through the crowd and interrupted his train of thoughts. Although it was coming from the far side of the city, his well trained ear perceived the noise as if it was coming from right behind him. His first reaction was to ignore the situation. After all, it wasn't his business. He had a mission to complete. Still, his feet didn't agree and they started running in the opposite direction of the Bureau as if they had a mind of their own.

"You are wise, which is why you came to me," smiled the chubby man to the young lady who was taking a look at his goods.

"I am not so sure about that," said the woman in a slightly annoyed tone. "These fruits are rotten."

"You are mistaking, young lady. They have this color because the ground they are growing on has healing powers. That means-" The suddenly agitated crowd prevented the man from continuing his fantastic story. After a few seconds, his mind slowly started to register what had just happened. The woman had been pushed into his stand an now his precious fruits were smashed under her weight.

"You will pay for this! Come back here!" He screamed to the running figure that seemed responsible for the whole mess. As he expected, he received no response. Then, the realization struck him.

"That damned monk! I knew there was something wrong about him!"

With his mind deeply focused on distinguishing the screams from the other noises and on using them as a guide, Altair almost didn't notice the small group of guards who were coming to his direction. He came to a sudden halt and quickly sneaked among the people until he was at a safe distance from his enemies. Once he'd lost their sight, the Assassin started running again. The voices were becoming louder and louder, and now he could clearly distinguish the words.

"You dirty thief! I'll have your hand for that!" threatened the well built man who seemed to be the boss.
The little boy desperately tried to free himself from the other man holding him, while the other two were enjoying the spectacle with their hands on their hips, clearly amused at the child's futile attempts.

"No, please! I was hungry! I promise I will never do that again!" he tried to defend himself, but instead of forgiveness he received a hard fist in his nose. Now the guards burst into a loud laughter making the hooded face of the man above them grow darker with anger. Busy as they were with torturing the boy, they hadn't noticed him watching from the top of the building behind them.

"Stop laughing or I'll cut your tongues!" yelled the boss at his subordinates. They stopped. "Let's finish this, we had enough fun for today," he said while reaching for his sword.

"Leave him alone." The voice was strong and demanding, yet even. Startled by the uninvited guest, the guards drew their swords all at the same time and turned to the direction of the noise, letting the child go. He immediately took advantage of this opportunity and vanished behind the old, ruined buildings.

Altair couldn't help a small, brief smile when he saw the guards suddenly relaxing when they caught sight of him. They started to laugh even harder than before, but the boss silenced them after a while with only a movement of his hand.
"What do we have here? " he smiled revealing his dirty, yellow teeth. "Did you came here to preach us the word of God, monk? Hoping that we will see the light and take the path of redemption?" He revealed his ugly teeth again and silenced the others once more while making sure, proud steps towards the monk. He was now standing only a few centimeters away from him and Altair could feel his bad breath brushing his face. Still, he kept standing there like a statue, as he did for the last few minutes, an amused expression that was barely perceptible decorating his features.
The other guards witnessed in shock how their boss had suddenly fallen to the ground, a pool of blood surrounding him like an aura, but they quickly recovered as soon as they saw Altair drawing his sword, preparing to attack them.
"What kind of a monk carries a weapon?" shouted one of them.
"He's an Assassin, you-!" He never finished his sentence. Now he was more concentrated on blocking the Assassin's attacks. As soon as he felt the impact of the sword clashing with his enemy's, Altair quickly turned towards the soldier behind him, taking him by surprise and slitting his throat with ease. With only two enemies left, the 'monk' was sure now that he can win this fight without even a scratch. With the speed of a lightning striking in the night, Altair launched himself towards one of them, but he expertly dodged his hit and attacked back. The sound of steel against steel made the air vibrate. Altair decided that he had to finish this as soon as possible. He pushed hard against the guard's sword, outbalancing him enough to give the Assassin the opportunity to plant the hidden blade in his victim's stomach. He then turned around just in time to block the other soldier's attack. Altair took advantage of his surprise and kicked him in the guts with his knee. Hard. The guard screamed in pain and collapsed to the ground, wrapping his hands around his abdomen. Just when he wanted to stab him with his hidden blade, the Assassin felt a sharp pain in his left arm. His victim had stabbed him first with a knife. He had probably aimed for his heart, but the pain and fear prevented his success. Without further hesitation, the sharp blade of the Assassin found its way into the screaming man's throat, silencing him forever.

"Fear not, for you have found peace now," whispered Altair while closing the lifeless eyes which were staring at him.

"Thank you." The voice was tiny and hesitant. The Assassin stood up and analysed its source- a boy not older than ten, dressed in dirty, torn clothes. His face was partially covered in dried blood resulted from the guard's hit, but what really stood out were his eyes. So full of determination...They reminded him of someone.

"You have nothing to thank me for. Go home, your parents are probably looking for you."
Instead of listening to his advice, the boy followed Altair with quick steps, trying to keep up with his fast steps. The Assassin had no time to waste. "You are hurt," he said, pointing at his arm.

"It's nothing serious."

"I want to learn to fight like you." The boy was starting to get really annoying.

"I told you to go home."

"I don't have a home. My parents are dead," responded the boy with a hint of sadness in his voice.

Altair stopped suddenly, taken by surprise. He hadn't expected that. He then took another closer look at the child. The boy seemed strong and with great potential. What if he would take him at Masyaf? There he would be trained as an Assassin and he might prove very useful one day.

The Assassin started walking again, well aware of those questioning eyes staring at him. " Tell me," he asked, " have you ever heard about Masyaf?"