September, 30:
On the way to Tartus, ship:
We were still on the way to the city of Tartus... we had a small setback because of a detour due a storm and now we were one night from the city…
We had left Limassol on the day before on a war ship the Templars left behind and as we reached the high seas, the ship started to smash against the waves and I knew it was the announcement of a bad weather…
Maria and I were having lunch and even before finish it, we went to help the men with the sails, hopes and boxes before the storm in front of us… upon seeing it, I started to feel nauseated, but I knew I had to hide this fact...
Was we neared the storm, the winds and the waves became more strong as we tried to manage the ship away from it… but rain and stronger winds reached us and pushed us from a side to the other…
My stomach worsened and I was more and more nauseated… I stopped and took a deep breath and one of the men looked at me and asked if I was ok… I said no and a second later was emptying my stomach on the sea... I heard him say something and continue his job...
As I finished and picked up the box I was carrying again, I looked at Maria, helping to hold the sail... I noticed they needed and extra pair of hands to tie the sail so we don't have a problem… behind me, the storm was failing behind, but the winds were still strong…
I left the box with a passing man and in seconds I was helping them to make strength... Maria could tie the sail on the hopes on the side of ship... she turned to see who had helped them and I smiled upon seeing her with some hair on her face and wet because of the rain... she was very pretty that way…
I was kind of hoping she would thank me for the help but instead she surprised me by saying I was looking awful….
Being the second person to say that to me after just a few seconds, I knew I was looking as bad as I was feeling... she sent me away and made me rest and that's why I'm here, seated on my bed and writing…. Besides me, on the wooden floor, there was a bucket timber, just in case if I wanted to empty my sto…
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Altaïr was interrupted by a knock on his door. Normally, he wouldn't have a room just for him, but seeing the Templars had...
"Altaïr?" The voice on the other side of the door said. It was Maria...
Carefully, he got up, doesn't bothering putting on his mantle and hood, and walked slowly to the door. Taking a deep breath, he opened it and Maria looked at him.
"God, you look as bad as a drunk in the gutter…"
"Thank you..." He said and frowned at her. "What do you want Maria?'
She had changed her clothes...
"I came to bring you a ginger tea..." She said. "My mother always did it to us when we were children and traveled by boat…"
Altaïr nodded... Zahira always said to him and his brothers that ginger was good to nausea...
He sat back on the bed and she handled the mug to him.
"How are you feeling?" Maria asked.
"A little better…" Altaïr said, looking at the mug… the tea as hot…
"How do we say ginger in Arab?" She asked.
"Sorry?" He said, looking at her.
Maria chuckled.
"I asked how do we say ginger in Arab?" She repeated.
"Uh..." Altaïr said. "It's shay al-zanjabeel..."
"Say al…' She tried.
"Zanjabeel…" Altaïr said.
Maria nodded, trying to say it on her mind, as Altaïr drank the tea and made a grimace with the strong taste.
"Rest Altaïr..." she said, turning around to the door. "Tomorrow you'll feel better…"
"Thanks, Maria…" He said, before she closed the door.
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