Ch.1

Carefully, Arielle crept through Jerusalem's marketplace. It was a place filled with vibrancy and colour, and sounds and strange smells clashed together as the various merchants hawked their wares. Carefully, the dirty girl eyed the crowd, trying to pick out a suitable target. Arielle nervously fidgeted with her clothes, straightening the shabby garments as best she could. Finally, she spotted a careless looking merchant. Every few moments he would turn away from his stall and address the crowd, and while the other merchants kept a wary eye on their merchandise, this one didn't. Arielle gave a relieved sigh. She would still have to steal some money, but today she would eat well. Carefully, she wove her way through the crowd. As she drew closer to the merchant, she only grew more nervous. She was much better at picking pockets, but that was no way to gain food. Arielle casually sauntered over to the cart and swiped one of the many loaves of bread from the unwary merchants stall. She silently gloated as, unable to resist the temptation; she sunk her teeth into it. She closed her eyes in bliss. It was still warm. It must have been baked fresh this morning. Her joy was ruined when the merchant grabbed her arm roughly. "Thief! Let go of that!" The merchant roared as he shook Arielle. Her head snapped back and forth and her eyes widened in terror when she noticed that guards were starting to notice her.

"Please, I was going to pay! I'm just so hungry! If you'll only-"She stammered.

"You're a dirty thief, girl!" The merchant cried.

"Give her to us." One of the guards demanded. Arielle was roughly shoved at the armored man, and even though she tried to escape, he only laughed at her struggles.

"Let me go! I'm just hungry!" Arielle wailed. She kicked out at the guards that were now surrounding her. Terrifying images flashed through the panicked girls mind. She had seen the guards do so many bad things to people. They were all around her now, and desperately Arielle threw herself at them. No one was doing anything! The citizen's merely gave a slight shudder and turned away. How could anyone be so blind? "Please! Somebody help me! I just wanted food!"

"No one's going to help a dirty little wretch like you, girl. Hold still, that hand of yours is going to be mine soon." The guard gave a leering grin and Arielle realized that tears were rolling down her cheeks. When had she started crying?

"Please let me go. I just wanted some food! I was so hungry."

"Hold still and quit you-"There was a terribly still moment as the guard blankly stared at Arielle. Then blood trickled out of his mouth and slowly dribbled down his chin. Agonizingly slowly, the guard toppled to the side. The man's helmet rattled when it hit the cobblestones. Standing in front of Arielle was the most terrifying man she had ever seen. His dark brown eyes flicked over her coolly, and then he charged at one of the guards. There was a blur of steel, and then a guard lurched away, screaming in agony. An arm that had been mercilessly clenched around Arielle's scrawny arm fell to the floor. It had been neatly severed with all the precision of a doctor. Arielle stood there motionless as the white robed stranger fought off her attackers. Steel scraped against steel. Red, bloody patches blossomed like great, terrible flowers. Guards fell to the floor like reaped grain. When the terrible battle was finally over, the man calmly wiped his sword clean and slid it back into its sheath. He stared at her expectantly, his dark eyes as cold and calculating as a snakes. Arielle straightened her clothing and stared at the strange man. He had just saved her. Spatters of blood were flecked across his robes. They had been so white earlier. After a moment the man barked, "Well?"

Arielle jumped slightly at the sound of his harsh voice. What did he want? Oh. A thank you. Yes, that would be nice. Arielle couldn't help but notice a strange lump in his sleeve. She caught a flash of brown. Maybe it was bread. Arielle didn't even bother to question why anyone would have bread up their sleeve. She was so hungry. She hadn't eaten in days and stranger things had happened. Things like a stranger rescuing a dirty orphan from the city guards. Arielle gave the man a nervous smile. With only a slight hesitation, she threw herself on him. The man stiffened when Arielle gave him a bone crushing hug. "Thank you so much, sir!" She chirped happily. A shout came from down the street and the man squirmed out of the tiny girl's grasp. Carefully, Arielle's hand darted up his sleeve. She gave a triumphant grin when she drew something long and slender out. She hid the long thing behind her back and watched in not entirely feigned amazement as the man practically ran up a wall. He disappeared over the edge of the roof without a backward glance. When guards came into view, Arielle realized that standing in the middle of six dead soldiers was not a very smart thing to do. She quickly darted down an alley and hidden in a corner. She finally got a look at what the man had been hiding up his sleeve, and her brow creased in confusion.

Altair ran over the roofs of Jerusalem. The roofs seemed to blur together as he effortlessly leapt from building to building. Somehow, he couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. Normally when he rescued a supposed thief from the guard, they were grateful. That little girl had just stared at him. Then she had hugged him. Altair couldn't remember the last time anyone had ever hugged him. It had been a strange feeling. Altair decided that he would be better off without any more hugs from random citizens. With a frustrated sigh, he pushed the thoughts from his mind. He had a slaver to assassinate. He couldn't afford to be distracted. Finally, Altair reached the warehouse and crept inside. He didn't even flinch when the doors slammed shut behind him. His gaze roamed about, searching for any hidden enemies. Although the warehouse was dusty, it was surprisingly clean. A dim figure could be seen in the rafters, a bow slung across its back. Altair gave an imperceptible sigh. The time for stealth was clearly over. "What now, slaver?" He called.

"Do not call me that! I only wished to help them. As I myself was helped." Came the sharp reply.

"You do no kindness imprisoning them like this."

"Imprisoning them? I keep them safe. Prepare them for the journey that lies ahead."

"What journey? It is a life of servitude."

"You know nothing! It was folly to even bring you here! To think that you might see and understand!"

"I understand well enough! Show yourself!" Altair narrowed his eyes when a door opposite him opened. He squared his shoulders and boldly marched through the doorway.

"Ah, so you want to see the man who called you here?"

"You did not call me here! I came on my own." Altair snapped. This man's arrogance was getting annoying.

To Altair's further irritation, Talal gave a mocking laugh. "Did you? Who unbarred the door? Cleared the path? Did you once raise your blade against a single man of mine? No. All of this, I did for you. Step into the light then, and I will grant you one final favour."

A ceiling hatch opened and a thin, watery ray of light pierced the gloom of the warehouse. Perhaps he will grant me his neck, Altair thought as he stepped forward. Talal stepped out of the darkened shadows of the rafters and called out, "Now, I stand before you. What is it you desire?"

"Come down here! Let us settle this with honour!" In one fluid motion, Altair drew his sword.

Talal only shook his head and gave a sigh. "Why must it always come to violence? It seems I cannot help you, for you do not wish to help yourself. And I cannot allow my work to be threatened. You leave me no choice. You must die."

Talal waved his arm and five men crept from the shadows. Altair nearly cursed at his own reckless arrogance. He didn't check for enemies! It was a thoughtless action to step into this room so casually, but it could be remedied. Altair hefted his blade and grimly set upon the guards. He darted across the room and wove through their ranks with an astounding agility. His sword dove through their defenses, effortlessly batting their blades aside. Altair had been studying swordsmanship his entire life, and these guards were just as threatening to him as just as many geese. Soon they lay on the floor, each with a carefully slit throat. Altair climbed up the rough stone wall and set off after Talal. He could hear the man's footsteps. He ran up the stairs and gave a slight, irritated huff when Talal opened yet another roof hatch and scrambled outside. Altair leapt up and grabbed the slaver. In a single, practised move he held the Talal's neck with one hand and released the catch on the hidden blade in his sleeve. He stabbed upwards and Talal's eyes bugged out when the blade pushed itself into his gut. The spine would sever and Talal would slide, limp and lifeless, off of the Assassin's blade. But that didn't happen. Instead, Talal slumped against Altair when his fist connected with his stomach. Altair gave a slight frown and tried again. No blade. Talal was struggling now, and Altair quickly realized that he might need to think of a different approach. He shook his arm, expecting the blade to slide out, but nothing happened. A moment later Altair had fallen to the ground, clutching his bruised groin. Through the haze of pain, he could see Talal running across the roofs. Altair groaned as he wrenched himself upright. He blinked away his daze and set off after the man. It still hurt, but Altair tried to push the pain away and focus exclusively on the chase. How could this have happened? Nimbly, he leapt from roof to roof. Talal was quick and light on his feet, but Altair was even more so. He had almost caught up with him when Talal stopped suddenly. He was flailing wildly on the edge of the roof. As he sped over Altair glanced over the man's shoulder. They were high up; a fall would easily kill him. Altair slammed into Talal, brutally shoving him off of the ledge. Talal gave a panicked scream as he fell, but it was cut short by a sickening crunch. The screams of panicked citizens exploded from the street below him. Altair watched in annoyance as they practically ran over each other trying to get away from Talal's broken form. When the streets had cleared Altair crept down and smeared an eagle's feather in Talal's blood. His mind filled with questions, Altair numbly retreated to the bureau. He turned in proof of the deed, only half hearing Malik's string of criticism. He retreated into the spare room and sat on the pile of pillows.

Altair gave a savage growl as he nearly ripped his sleeve off. All of this commotion could have been avoided if his hidden knife had worked. Was it jammed? Was it broken? What was missing? Altair's jaw dropped when he saw that the blade was missing. It had been pulled right out of its straps! That certainly explained a lot. But where had the blade gone? Altair slowly turned over each and every single event that had occurred since he had entered Jerusalem's gates. He recounted every time he had used the blade in his most recent trip to the city. He had used it this morning, but it was gone in the evening. Carefully he tried to remember the faces of every one he had seen that day. There was Talal and his men. He had talked with Malik this morning. There were the guards he had dispatched when he had saved the young dirty girl. The guards couldn't have taken it. Malik wouldn't have dared take his blade. Talal didn't have the opportunity! That left only the girl, but she couldn't have done it. How could a beggar steal something from him? He had trained all his life as an Assassin. He had been born into the order. He had slain countless men, righted countless wrongs, and picked a fair amount of pockets himself, yet he was to believe that a young girl had stolen his hidden blade? Even the thought was insulting. Besides, she didn't have the opportunity to steal the knife. Altair curled into the pillows. He would have to search the bodies of everyone he had killed today later. He was not looking forward to that. He couldn't go out now. The city was turning itself upside down trying to find him. Tomorrow the bodies would have been moved to the undertaker. He would actually have to go out and search them. It must have been one of them, after all it couldn't have been the girl. Hopefully, it wouldn't take too long to find the blade. It was finely crafted, and would be difficult to replace.

That night Altair slept restlessly, tossing and turning as his mind churned. Occasionally he would get up and rearrange the pillows, but it didn't do any good. Eventually, exhaustion claimed Altair and he fell asleep.

In the city of Jerusalem, guards rushed about searching vainly for whoever had pushed Talal off of the roof. There had been conflicting rumours of a white robed man sitting on the roof, but other rumours said that the man had been one of the scholars; others said that it was merely a statue draped in a white cloth or one of the many roof gardens in the area. Others insisted that it was merely a large bird. Desperately searching for someone to blame, the guards grasped at these rumours like drowning men grasped at wreckage.

In the city of Jerusalem, the citizens of the rich district had bolted themselves inside their houses, fearing murderers or giant bird attacks. In a tiny corner of the district, in an alley that had long since been abandoned, a grimy girl sat. She was fingering her new blade and wondering what on earth could have happened to whip the city into such a frenzy.