The Assassin's of our history

Chapter 1- Leap of faith

She walks alone, down a dark alley, hooded, so no one could see her delicate features. Her tall fragile structure was light and did not make a sound as she hoped over fallen boxes and debris. Other people walked down the alley, staring at the unknown figure. Pondering who this stranger is and what their business was. The alley made a sharp turn and opened into the main market street. It was buzzing with life, people everywhere haggling for the best price they could get for some spices or fruit.

She walked between the maze of people, not looking up to meet there gaze. Beggars lined the streets, pleading for some coins or scraps of food. Her ears were sharp and tuned into a distinctive channel. A voice. She felt more gazes and glares fall upon her, she stood out from the crowd for not buying anything. She needed to move on; looking in the streets for her target was not the ideal strategy.

A dark alley was spotted in the corner of her eye, she slowly approached it cautiously, making sure she was not being followed. It was dark, damp and very humid. Padding down the cobble path, she realised she was alone. The hooded figure Pulled down her disguise and unwrapped a scarf from her neck as to cover her mouth; she smiled. It was a lot cooler without them on. She tied the scarf around her waist, turning it into a sash.

While looking up and observing her surroundings she spotted some rafters and beams. A gentle breeze blew her red hair that was matted across her face. She scrapped it back and tied it into a scruffy bun with the purple ribbon tied from her wrist. The wooden beams went from the wall of one house to another for strength, so if one building fell down, it would not collapse the ones around it.

Silence.

She had come to a dead end but was not disheartened. A grin was wiped across her face; there was a wall of crates that had been pilled high.

Pilled to the same level as the rooftops.

She placed her foot into a hole of one of the bottom crates; it creaked as it bowed under weight. But it did not break or smash as she was expecting it to. This was an opportunity. She found a rim of a box above her head and used it as a hand hold, then kicked in a box for another foot hole. Now it was time to climb. Within no time at all she had reached the top. She stood slowly and carefully, trying not to lose her balance. The crates creaked and swayed under the sudden weight gain, it didn't sound good. She took a step but her foot went straight through the lid of the box, her breath was taken from her and her heart skipped a beat. Panicking she jumped high into the air squinting as her fingertips just caught grasped a beam. She exhaled loudly in relief, then looking down she saw the whole wall of crates collapse. Shards of wood flew through the air and skidded across the floor. The sound made her cringe, and she scolded herself mentally for her un-discreteness.

Beads of sweat started appearing on her back and brow. The unmasked figure pulled them self up and crawled across beam to the edge of the building. She felt safer now she was on solid ground. Now it was a perfect place for the assassin to find the target.

Pigeons flew up into the air. It was allot quieter up on the roof tops, allot more open too. In the distance she could see archers perched on rooftops, all looking down into the same stop. They were guarding something. They were guarding something that she was after. She started to run, jumping between and over buildings. Once she was about 30 yards away from the guards she ducked behind a carrier pigeon coop, and took five small blades from her brown leather boot.

Standing back up sharply she flicked her wrist towards the guard closest to her. It hit him in the back of the neck right in between his helmet and chain mail. He fell to the floor on his front, with a small gargle sound. Not one guard noticed, result!

Next.

Two guards that were walking up and down adjacent buildings, they were about to end up just like there friend. She raised herself again and propped one elbow onto the coop, the fluttering of the stressed birds was a little distracting for her, but she could manage. With two blades in one hand she flicked one towards the soldier on the left. It hit him in the neck but as he collapsed the sword and daggers of his clashed and made a louder noise then she expected. The other guard to the right of him noticed and was about to cry out and alert the other guards, as he turned to call out, the second blade got him in the chest, right through his chain mail.

One more left, time to move.

The last archer was fixed onto the event he was guarding, so he wasn't really guarding it at all. I'm glad I'm not being guarded by these idiots! The assassin thought to herself. She tucked a stand of hair behind her ear and stated walking slowly towards him, so he did not see her in the corner of his eye. Only two blades left. Please my lords, please do not make me miss. She prayed to herself. She fiddled with one of the small metal blade in her right hand then looking up at her target she launched it, spinning towards the archer; he was oblivious to her presence as he fell onto his back. Dead.

She cautiously looked around, checking that he was defiantly the last guard. It was all clear. Running over to the nearest roof edge and peering over she saw her target. It was him all right, big body guard, expensive robes and a jewelled feather encrusted into his turban.

Pathetic little man!

She scowled at the thought of him. Money does not bring you everything!

"Especially not life." Talking to herself menacingly under her breath. It was Abu'l Nuqoud, the fat man was hosting a big party, showing off all the money he apparently had. When actually she knew that he had stole this money from Damascus's treasuries. He was a selfish bastard and he needed to pay for it.

Abu'l Nuqoud was the merchant king of Damascus, he was a fat man with rich tastes – and a humongous appetite. Everything he said and did was to excess. He threw lavish parties, decorated his palace with gaudy works of art, and fed himself the finest foods. He was on a balcony glaring at all the people of the party as if they were his dinner. He tapped a knife against his goblet ordering for silence, it all went quiet, and he started his grand welcoming speech.

The assassin paid no attention and started working on the interior design and the strategy she was about to use. The archer! She ran up to the edge of the building and landed onto a floating raft on a pivot. It swung forward and she jumped off onto the next building and rolled over her shoulder and she landed to take pressure off her legs. The there he was, motionless, the dead archer. Perfect. Smiling to herself. Bending down she rolled him over and took her small blade, that she had killed him with earlier and his bow. The rolling him back over she took an arrow from his quiver and slipped it into her boot along with her blade. Time to get revenge. A menacing snarl curled on her lips as she jumped from the building to the swinging raft then back onto her original viewing point.

Screams everywhere, oh great, now what? A body lay in the middle of Abu'l Nuqoud's the courtyard floor, it had an arrow through the stomach and blood was flowing out of it like the fountain that was flowing wine. What? Where did they come from! Archers had now appeared on the balconies underneath where she was standing and killing Abu'l's guests.

Leaping down onto the balcony, that the host was preaching from, she scraped her arm on her land. Merde! As she stood up and took the Arrow swiftly from her brown leather boots, the wood was warm in her hands as her palms sweated slightly. "ASSASSIN!" Abu'l shouted to his guards as he turned and ran for his pathetic and puny life. This shall be full.

Charging behind him with the arrow in hand, the chase was on. Guards came out from all corners trying to block her way. A captain of the Damascus's troop stood ahead of her with his sword drawn. Her target had freely ran past him, there was no other way to go but straight for him. There, next to him, a saviour! A crate with I higher one behind it, jump over him. Her mind was made up and she charged straight for the captain so he did not see her heading for the crates. Behind the captain the target was panting and bent over double breathing hard. Pah! Fat ouf! It was as if she was running in slow motion once there was about five feet between her and the guard. He grunted and swung his sword towards her, but missed by an inch as she leapt to the right onto the crates and stabbing the arrow into his back. Then jump!

Soaring through the air for those few mini-seconds was a relief that she still had her life.

Then revenge was hers...

As she was reaching back to the ground her hidden blade shot out from beneath her wrist, puncturing a deep slash into Abu'l Nuqoud's neck. Money does not buy you everything, especially not life! "Be at peace now. Their words can no longer do harm." She spoke reluctantly, but she had been brought up by the creed well. Disobeying it was like disobeying Al Mualim, and she was not about to do that. It felt like time was frozen. Then he spoke...

"Why have you done this?"

"You stole money from those you claimed to lead, sent it away for some unknown purpose. I want to know where it's gone and why!"

" Look at me! My very nature is an affront to the people I ruled, and these noble robes did little more than to muffle their shouts of hate."

"So this is about vengeance, then?"

"No, not vengeance, but my conscience. How could I finance a war in service to the same god that calls me an abomination?"

"If you do not serve Saladin's cause, then whose?"

"In time, you'll come to know them: I think perhaps you already do."

"Then why hide? And why these dark deeds?"

"Is it so different from your own work? You take the lives of men and women, strong in the

conviction that their deaths will improve the lots of those left behind: a minor evil for a

greater good. We are the same!"

"No! We are nothing alike!" she spat disgusted by his accusations.

"Ah, but I see it in your eyes: you doubt. You cannot stop us... we will have our 'New World'".

She could not listen to anymore, jabbing her blade into his neck again he died silently. Then as she retracted her blade time started again, and there were a hell of allot of guards around her. She quickly pulled the white feather out from the buckle on the side of her boot and swept it across his neck, as proof for the Rafik. The roars of the guards were getting louder as they gained on her. They were at both ends of the alley she was in. Dam it! Why do I always get cornered? But then I do always escape. She joked to herself trying not to panic. Then 'light bulb!' the crates!

She turned around and jumped up to the crate. She struggled to pull herself up, wearying herself of the energy she had just used up. Just as her foot was on top of the top crate a long gleaming sword smashed into it, missing her by a fraction of a centimetre. Gasping, she scrambled onto the rooftops where she found it easier to manoeuvre as there were no civilians about.

Free running was her speciality.

Jump. Run. Run. Run some more. Then jump. Pull up. Run. Jump, hop, hop and land it. Turn back. No guards in site. Then DIVE! Gracefully as a swan. Land in haystack. Then wait till the guard tower bells stop ringing. They stop.

Success!

Assassination complete.