Chapter 2

It was late at night and deadly silent. I was standing next to a small fountain in the centre of Jerusalem and I was completely alone. I could hear the distant sounds of merry making in the local inns but I could see nothing, not even the moon. The wind seemed like it dared not blow. I had been standing there for an age and was starting to feel uncomfortable. Jerusalem at night was not a safe place for a woman to be, especially alone. I was debating whether to call this whole cryptic meeting off and return home but a strange feeling compelled me to wait a while longer. Malik had said it was important. I'd received from him a quickly scrawled note stating for me to wait at this fountain and hour after midnight. He'd added at the bottom:

'Be reasonable Asra, and don't ask any questions.'

I will be the one to decide how reasonable I was, I thought defiantly. Malik shouldn't expect me to be too compliant at such a late time when it was so cold and miserable. I held the little piece of parchment in my fist and waited.

The minutes ticked by and I was all but ready to leave when I suddenly spotted a slight movement in front of me. I waited silently, not even daring to breathe…

A tall man stepped out from the shadows of a long empty market stall, dressed in flowing robes and a hood that obscured his eyes. I couldn't stop myself from imaging that they were dark and brooding, reflecting his demeanour. But I didn't know why I suddenly thought about it; I could hardly see a hand over my face in this near moonless night, let alone this man's eyes under his hood. But it was strange that he suddenly gave me this feeling, I had never met him before, yet I'd already classed him. I also got an overwhelming feeling that he was inherently dangerous. The way he kept his head down, allowing the hood to hide him completely. The way that he swiftly slid around the wooden stall with such precision and deftness. And the way that he looked up at me.

My first impressions were intimidating to say the least.

The man started to make his way towards me with slow, precise steps, as if every movement he made was carefully calculated and planned before hand. I shivered silently. I pulled my shawl further around my body in response but I knew that the shiver had nothing to do with the cold. After what seemed like an age, the man reached the fountain I was standing next to and looked me in the eye. He seemed to make no attempt to speak, so I nervously started the exchange.

"Are you the one they call Altaïr Ibn La-Ahad?" I asked tentatively, praying that the answer was yes. At least then I would know he was not a man here for some other untoward purpose…

"I am." He replied plainly, not looking at me directly. His gaze was everywhere around me; directed at rooftops and down into the alleys, as if checking for any sign of life or movement. He was like a cautious animal, checking to make sure the area was safe for the moment.

I think I breathed a quick sigh of relief; he was the man I was meant to meet. All was well for now… It was only then that I noticed a long, imposing sword attached to his left side and a variety of weaponry upon his broad chest, that he absent mindedly stroked, the way a man might caress his lover's cheek. The weapons did not scare me like it should; instead it made me feel safer in his presence… I was intrigued as to why they were there though, but that would have to wait until later. 'Don't ask questions' was imprinted upon my mind for the moment.

I was about to open my mouth to speak again but his eyes were now locked to mine and I got the feeling he thought it was his turn to speak again. I was not about to disagree.

"You are Asra, are you not?" He did not wait for my reply. "I have come here as a favour to friend known to both of us." He looked at me with slight scrutiny in his eyes, as if he wasn't sure whether I was informed or not.

"Yes, my cousin Malik has sent you." I replied quietly. I was hesitant to speak further as I did not have any more information to give him. I myself did not know the reason for this meeting. My cousin had told me to wait here at this time but he had neglected to tell me why. But I trusted my cousin unlike any other person and so I followed his orders and did not ask any questions, like the good, obedient cousin I was.

The man called Altaïr was looking away again, as if he was giving me time to collect my thoughts without interruption. My eyes quickly shot down his body. I was trying to imprint his image upon my mind. He intrigued me. When my gaze has reached his hands, I let out an inaudible gasp. He had no ring finger on his left hand. All that was left was a stump with a slightly mangled end. Not pleasant to look at but by no means shocking, so I didn't know why it surprised me so much. Since when had missing digits been a cause for alarm? But something about this triggered a stir in my mind; I just couldn't bring it to the surface. I did not dwell on it. I had to resume the conversation before the silence became embarrassing. I also quite wanted to hear his voice again. It was smooth and pleasant, the kind of voice that made women eager to listen. I mentally laughed at myself. I'd only just met him.

"So, do you care to tell me was this meeting is for?" We had been keeping our voices low to preserve the calm.

"No."

His abruptness caught me off guard and my voice began to rise.

"Why not?! I believe this concerns me as much as it does you!"

"I think not. Well, for now anyway."

I never saw it coming.

Suddenly, he launched towards me at lightning speed, closing the gap between us and clamped his hand around my mouth to stifle the scream rising in my throat. With his right hand remaining closed over my mouth, he used the other to grab my shawl from around my shoulders, before wrapping it firmly around my mouth as a gag. He removed his hand and I tried to scream. No sound came out. My shawl was a very efficient sound muffler, I noted in my panic. There was no way I was going to be able to inform someone of my whereabouts. Maybe a full frontal attack, perhaps he wouldn't be expecting me to fight back, although, he did not look like the kind of man to underestimate anything. Still I had to try.

As if in response to my thoughts, he hastily grabbed my arms and clamped them to my sides, in anticipation of the attack I was about to launch on his face. He was too fast for me. I could think of nothing now save the sudden thought that I would never see Malik again. I even spared a thought for my father. I wouldn't miss him but I still spared him a thought in the face of death.

The thoughts were short lived, as I was still half blinded by panic. How could Malik have misjudged this man's character to such an extent that he trusted him enough to meet me in the dead of night? I hoped he wouldn't blame himself though; it wasn't Malik's fault. Malik wouldn't do something like this to me intentionally. Maybe this wasn't even the man I was supposed to meet and I'd been tricked.

The man suddenly cut through the dead silence with a short, low whistle. I tried to kick him in the shins but my flimsy shoe failed me and my foot came off far worse. I doubt he even felt anything. Cursing the pain in my toe, I brought my arms up quickly and tried to push him away but his steely fist was clamped around my shoulders and he had pulled me into his body to restrict my movement further.

Restricted as I was, it did not stop me from craning my head to watch a stunning black horse trotting towards us, its bridle swinging slowly with its every movement. It whinnied softly at Altaïr as it reached us and I realised in horror that this horse must have been what Altaïr has whistled for.

I wasn't even going to die in my own hometown.

As the beautiful horse came up beside us, Altaïr clasped his hands around my waist and lifted me up as if I was no more than a feather and gently placed me at the front of the saddle.

Altaïr spared a quick glance around his shoulder before putting both hands on the horse's back and raising himself effortlessly into the saddle behind me. He grabbed the bridle from in front of me and signalled to the horse to move forwards with a soft click. The horse responded immediately by stamping its hoof a few times and setting off at a trot.

My mind was racing. Could I jump off now? He had not bound my hands but I realised it was because he knew full well that he could capture me, should I attempt to run. His litheness was incredible; I had no doubt in his retrieval ability. His arms were also resting near my hips, where the bridle was laying which meant that he would sense my slightest movement and foil any plan I had. These hopeless thoughts forced small tears out of my eyes that I was instantly ashamed of. I never cried and no matter how dire the situation was, I shouldn't give in. I steeled myself for whatever should come my way. I would never give him the satisfaction of knowing he had broken me. With this, I pressed my lips together and held my head high and cursed this man with every terrible word I could think of while we approached the city gates.

I could feel him, tense behind me, but I knew he wasn't going to stop. I wasn't going to get off and he wasn't going to let me go…

My situation was dire.

I hope you enjoy this story as I've had a ridiculous amount of fun writing it. I've never delved into Fan fiction before this but Assassins Creed really inspired me.

Just a quick note, I sincerely want to apologise for any spoilers during the prologue. A [lovely person has pointed it out to me that I may have spoiled quite a bit for people who haven't finished the game. So, if you are one of those people, I'm so sorry, I should have thought about it more.

Whether you've enjoyed the chapters or not, please do review. It helps me a lot to improve as I've only been writing for a short time.

Thanks guys ;)