Chapter 6

Selma was disgusted by Garnier and his actions. The things she had heard and seeing the people enraged at his actions of turning them away… It was despicable. Healers were to help those in need. Still the Arbiter in her told her to reserve judgment but it was the Assassin in her that was angry and demanded retribution. It was tempting to laugh at a joke that had been saddled upon her by the Assassins and would often tease her with it when she took issue with something such as the way training was done.

Is that the Arbiter or Assassin talking little Al-Fakhir?

I think it is both and that's what scares me.

Selma felt her lip twitch as she thought about that memory and reflected over her meeting Altair the previous night. It was the first time she had seen him face to face since they parted ways. It was almost painful since she had not revealed herself and it was clear he didn't recognize her… but that was her doing. Still it was… pleasant to see him again. Her feelings hadn't changed and she couldn't resist playing with him once she spotted him in Damas and then later trailing him to Masyaf. It made her want to laugh that he didn't even see her amongst the villagers of Masyaf.

She followed him to Acre and it was much like how it was when they were children. He would go and she would follow like a little shadow. She was also curious about his mission and the whispers of Templars amongst the villagers piqued her interest. Again she couldn't resist playing with him and chuckled when he took the roundabout way of getting to Acre on his last day of his journey. Then her imp of a beloved friend decided to play with him.

Ibn led Altair to her and she suspected that he had done more than just pique her soaring eagle's interest and love of the birds of prey. Her beloved friend was playful in his nature but her defender and friend. The imp led Altair to where she had gathered information at the state of affairs of Acre. She had noticed the atmosphere the moment she arrived and discovered Garnier de Naplouse and the dissention he was causing. She found out about a shipment and decided to stage some interference with a little help from Azize.

The little band of thieves decided to follow through on her suggestion and Azize had left when she did to start an Acre outpost of the thieves' guild. He knew some people there already and started on the rudimentary parts of it. He actually found her when she arrived and introduced her to the band and offered to give some help. She didn't want to exploit it but he was insistent and those that he knew heard about the Arbiters. So they provided their help in freeing and hiding the prisoners. They were also running around and gathering information about what was going on.

Selma knew that she couldn't fix their problems but she could give them the means to fix it or point them in the right direction. People were only as strong as what they could do for themselves. She couldn't resist mothering the younger ones and they clung to her like barnacles on the ships that docked in the port. It was a good feeling since she was often alone with the exception of Ibn and to have unconditional affection from someone… it was lifting. They didn't care that she was a woman and educated and she was happy.

"The first scouts are back,"Azize said as he joined her on the rooftop of the thieves' guild base.

Selma looked at the boy and was aware that he couldn't see anything but the lower half of her face. When she was on a mission, she preferred to have her hood up. It allowed her to blend into the crowds. She replied, "Anything more on Garnier?"

"There are the rumors of people becoming restless," Azize replied as he continued to look in the direction that he was facing. "They say that he turns them away from the hospital. Kamilah picked up on rumors that he experiments on the patients but it conflicts with the reports that he heals them. What kind of man does this?"

"One who knows how to manipulate a situation to his advantage," Selma replied as she crossed her arms over her chest. "He just uses… cruel methods."

"Most people don't know what to believe," Azize countered as he glanced at her as he crossed his own arms over his chest.

"What do you believe, Azize?"

Azize thought about the question for a moment. He then replied, "Each person reaps what they sow. You help someone in need and it is returned to you. Perhaps that is what the people see when Garnier cures people. They overlook the atrocities to see the miracle."

Selma gave a hum of approval and replied, "An astute observation Azize. Do you see as such when I accept your aid?" She turned to give him a good look and caught his eye when he turned to look at her.

"No," Azize answered automatically and firmly. It was probably odd to hear since he was a thief but it was true. He then took the moment to add, "My father once said before he died that a true man is defined by the actions he does for others and does his work without expectation of praise. To expect such is prideful and arrogance." He cleared his throat since his next words could sound very forward. He said, "You are not a man but you do what a man should do and I see that my father was also talking about how a woman is too."

Selma thought on that and offered, "Your father sounds wise."

"He told me that I had to look out for myself but if I had someone under my care, I was to look after them; to care for those that are forgotten." Azize paused and considered his next words and finally blurting, "He would have liked you."

"And I would have enjoyed meeting him," Selma replied with a smile. She looked at the distance and could see the overlay of the port city. She sighed, "I must be going then."

"Go to the hospital. They say that when he starts examining the patients, he is ignorant to things around him."

"Shukaran," Selma replied with a smile to sincere her thanks. She held out her forearm and waited while Ibn landed on her forearm for his treat of dried meat. She stroked his feathers for a moment before sending him on his way.

Perhaps it had been wrong with what she had been doing and what she had in mind but she truly didn't know how her old childhood friend would take to her being there. He had been respectful last night but he had seen nothing but an Arbiter. His respected was something to be respected and vice versa. The truth was, she was nervous about revealing herself. Time was said to change people and she was afraid that it changed him.

Looking over the edge she glanced back at Azize and said, "Safety and peace."

"Be careful."

Selma took the warning to heart as she made her way towards the hospital in the fortress of that knightly order charged with caring for the sick and destitute. She used the rooftops to speed along and get there faster until she jumped down to make her way through the streets. Occasionally she paused to listen in on conversations and they verified what she had heard. The people were angry at what was going on. People were being turned away instead of being treated and the rumors on experiments on patients were more than hushed whispers. It cemented her belief that Garnier was a man that seemed to have lost sight of what his purpose or calling was.

She approached the hospital only to find out that only the monks were allowed to enter. That was going to be a problem since she was in grey robes. She may be a scholar but it was clear that she was an Arbiter and that could alter what she should be seeing. She had to find another way in and she spotted it by looking up to spy where the archers were. She had to scale the wall but she could get in and tail Garnier and pronounce judgment. As she moved into position, she caught sight of white that could have been mistaken for a monk but a closer look revealed that it was an Assassin and not any Assassin but Altair himself.

"Help me! Help me!"

Selma turned to see a man running through the courtyard. A guard was chasing him and caught him along with another. She noticed that no one was interfering. It had her open her eyes to how things were run in this part of the city. The man was kicking and screaming to be let go. She spotted Altair's form as he stiffened slightly; he was not pleased by this either.

She had heard things from the rafiq of Damas. She heard even more from the one here in Acre. Yet she knew what lay beneath their words. She saw the boy she knew that was now a man and had what she could always see. He wanted to help but he couldn't risk exposing himself unnecessarily. If anything she was familiar with the tenants of the brotherhood.

"I asked you to retrieve the patient, not kill him," Garnier said as he came out, drawing both Selma and Altair's attention. "There, there. Everything will be all right. Give me your hand."

The patient refused to, screaming that Garnier not touch him. He sounded hysterical as he demanded not to be put through again what he had gone through. He looked like a crazy man.

"Cast out this fear. Else I cannot help you," Garnier countered looking hurt at the accusations implied.

"Help me? Like you helped the others?" The patient had a crazed look about him. He hadn't tried to escape but took the opportunity to make his point known. "You took their souls! I saw. I saw! But not mine. No. You'll not have mine. Never, never, never… not mine…"

The slap was loud in the silence of the crowd. Then Garnier spoke, "Take hold of yourself. Do you think this gives me pleasure? So you think I want to hurt you? But you leave me no choice…"

Selma watched Altair stiffen slightly as Garnier passed near the scholars where Altair was standing. She thought silently, Bite it back my friend. Bite it back.

"Every kind word matched by the back of his hand," the crazed man retorted. "All lies and deception. He won't be content until all bow down before him."

It was an odd accusation and while it wasn't a good idea to listen to the words of a crazy man, Selma marked his words. She watched as he tried to escape but was grabbed and manhandled by the guards. They brought the struggling man to Garnier who regarded the patient coldly, "You should not have done that." Looking at the guards, Garnier ordered, "Return him to his quarters. I'll be along once I've tended the others."

"You can't keep me here. I'll escape again."

"No you won't. Break his legs," Garnier said with no hint of pity or mercy. "Both of them."

The crunch of bones and screams of pain caused Selma's lips to twitch in a grimace. She found herself remembering the day she had witnessed death and while hardly a comparison to what she was seeing now… she couldn't help but note the cruelties of man. Like she could see from Altair, she was filled with the desire to rush in and do something and namely to kill the man. From her experience, healers were to heal but this… this was wanton cruelty. The man was worse than the one assigned to be in charge of prisoners. What has war done to people?

Movement from Altair told Selma that he was on the move and that was her signal to find her own way into the place. He was using the monks to gain entrance so that way was barred to her. She had contemplated going up and going in as an Arbiter in pursuit of knowledge but that would make her an obvious suspect when the deed was done.

You startled me Little Falcon. I would hate to see what would happen if it was a target you were after.

Her decision made, Selma touched her back to make sure her bow and quiver were secure as she walked to the nearest wall. She checked to make sure no one noticed as she began to scale the wall. There was always more than one way to get into a place.


Altair was disgusted with what was going on in the hospital. If the scene in the courtyard was a disturbance, this was obscene. He may have had some doubts from a couple of the patients who professed their thanks to de Napolouse for his healing them but the pledge of loyalty sickened them. To inspire such loyalty would mean providing salvation for illness probably brought on by Garnier de Napolouse himself.

The other patients helped to deter his doubts. They cowered in fear and screamed at de Napolouse for him to leave them alone. It was a look of torture he saw. Some he saw were mindlessly wandering around. They only became agitated if someone came too close. But their faces were blank with no signs of intelligence or life. He had to put an end to this and looked around the fortress. It was no hospital; he did not get the sense of healing that came with such a place. It was like a prison.

One of the prisoners became agitated and struck one of the monks. It was enough to distract the guards allowing Altair to slip away and track de Napolosue. He needed to get close but not too close since he needed his target to be distracted enough not to fight back when he killed him. That would also bring the guards and that was something that he wanted to avoid if not entirely.

He followed the man, avoiding getting too close to the patients lest they alert de Napolouse. His time was running short when the target was nearing the end of the ward. He had to make his move before he lost the man. He was confident that he would get him though. He was a Master Assassin after all. He pushed forward but one patient took offense at him and struck him in the shoulder and hard. He ignored it though and pushed forward, his target in sight.

Altair came up behind de Napolouse and triggered his hidden blade in a smooth motion. With a quick motion he drove it into the man's back in the kill spot and muffled the cry of the now dying man. Lowering him to the floor he spoke softly, "Let go your burden."

De Napolouse looked up at his killer as if he were an oddity but with no fear that his end was near. "Ah I rest now, yes?" He looked upwards at the ceiling and coincidentally at the chandelier that was providing light. "The endless dream calls to me. But before I close my eyes I must know… What will become of my children?"

Altair looked down at the dying man, a bit perturbed at the response. He couldn't keep the distaste out of his, "You mean the people made to suffer your cruel experiments? They'll be free now to return to their homes." He made the last part sound like a firm declaration and it was considering what he had seen.

De Napolouse laughed but weakly, "Homes? What homes? The sewers? The brothels? The prisons that we dragged them from?"

"You took these people against their will," Altair retorted, remembering the cargo that had been liberated the night before.

"Yes. What little will there was for them to have." De Napolouse peered at Altair and asked, "Are you really so naïve? Do you appease a crying child simply because he wails? You would have to answer for the consequences."

"These are not children. But full grown men and women."

"In body perhaps. But not in mind. The very damage I sought to repair but without the artifact you stole from us… my progress has been slowed." He paused and then added to Altair's confusion, "There are herbs… mixtures and extracts. My guards are proof of this. They were madmen before I found them and freed them from the prisons of their minds and with my death… madmen they will become again…"

"And you truly believe you were helping them?"

"It's not what I believe… It's what I know."

Altair mulled over it as he muttered, "Death be not unkind." He didn't have much time since he heard a low moan. Looking up, he caught a fist in his face from a patient bemoaning the death of de Napolouse. It left him stunned but it was enough to call the attention of the monks who began shouting and that brought the guards.

Springing to his feet, Altair charged towards a door that he hoped would lead out to the courtyard. His way ended up being barred by guards coming at him with their swords drawn. Altair countered by dodging the charge and watched as they collided with the patients that were behind him. He smirked as he watched the patients start to beat on the guards but it didn't help him since something hard and heavy hit him across the back of his shoulders and brought him to his knees. It was about as humiliating as when Robert de Sable managed to catch him in the temple.

It was a wicked sounding chuckle pulled Altair's attention as his arms were pulled into a restraining form by two more guards. A sword was pointed at his throat and he could see that the patients had been shuffled aside so there was no interference. He struggled but got a gauntleted fist to the stomach making him buckle and he felt the cold tip of the sword on his throat. He looked up to see the guard smirking at him and saying, "You will pay with your life assass…"

The last word never came out. Altair blinked at the jerking motion the guard made. The body dropped to the ground and fell forward to reveal the shaft of an arrow protruding from the back. He blinked again and tried to struggle to get free but he was held fast while orders were being given and the others were looking around for the direction the arrow came. He almost didn't hear the whizz of two more arrows flying but he did feel the grip from the guards slacken and shook himself free.

More arrows rained down in quick succession almost insuring that he made it to the door to the courtyard. The guards that didn't get hit were trying to find cover and calling for reinforcements and it allowed Altair to slip by. He did managed to steal a glimpse and saw a dark shape run across the rafters and thought he caught a glimpse of grey. An Arbiter? Here?

There was no time to dwell on that since whoever it was clearly bought him escape and Altair wasn't going to waste it. More guards were coming with blades drawn as he barreled through and into the courtyard. He ended up coming face to face with the guard that broke the patient's legs and was carrying a huge broadsword.

Altair drew his own sword and it looked like his was a tiny stick compared to the broadsword. Still he was prepared to defend himself and sprang away when the guard charged at him with a powerful swing of the broadsword. That kind of blade made for powerful swings but it left the defenses of the wielder significantly challenged. It was the kind of weakness that Altair was going to exploit as he dodged the blows. Speed was his ally in this case. He timed it to get his opening but suffered a clout across his ribs by a gauntleted fist in the process. In the end he managed to cut across the throat of the guard and the man was down for good.

Altair disappeared into the crowds before more showed up and only slowed when he judged he was a sufficient distance away to blend in. He was a nameless face in the crowd once again as he made his way to the Bureau to report that the deed was done. Only then did he allow his thoughts to wander and mull through what de Napolouse said and about what he had witnessed in the hospital fort. It was the latter that occupied his thoughts chiefly until he left Acre a day later.

Kifah was snorting at him again as he turned her head towards Masyaf. He assumed that it was because he was once again not letting her have her head. "Kifah," he soothed, "It's too hot for a run."

That didn't do much. Kifah stomped her feet impatiently in response and gave a slight buck. True she wanted to run but that was not what had her eager. She picked up something that was following them. She recognized the scent and wanted to go towards it. It had Altair frown at her behavior and had him glance around but he couldn't pick up on anything unusual. Still it wouldn't hurt to be alert. As an Assassin that was as natural as breathing. He still was concerned that Al Mualim sent someone to shadow him needlessly and the fact that he had yet to see them was worrisome and he nudged Kifah to move a little faster.

Nothing much happened the first night and he managed to avoid trouble. The morning thought brought him into contact with a caravan that was passing through on the way in the general direction of Masyaf. The leader though said that they were heading towards Al-Nasrah on their way to trade with the merchants of the citadel.

Altair took the information in quietly while his mannerisms seemed brusque. He was tempted to follow them and delay for just a moment in order to give in to the impulse of wanting to see his little falcon again. Seeing the Arbiter in Acre had him wanting to know if she was faring well and he would accept it if she was married though the idea of it sounded distasteful and produced a pang in his heart. The least he could do was make sure that if there was a husband he was worthy of her though there was little chance he was… whoever it was. So he stuck with the caravan but was not quite part of it and listened to the various conversations as he had learned to do as a novice.

Nightfall came and he was still with the caravan but not a part of it. His place to sleep was far enough away to be left alone but close enough to get information and it was a short distance to a more secluded watering hole. It was there that he was filling his canteen with his back to the cliff that bordered that side of the watering hole. As he was filling it he happened to glance in the pool and noticed a shadowy figure in the reflection indicating that he was being watched. He chose to not let on that he knew he was being watched and filled his remaining water bags and left with the goal of doubling back.

He found his little spy by the water's edge looking around from the same vantage point that he thought he saw them at. He grinned thinking that this game was going to go his way and pounced. With the grace of his namesake, he flew forwards and landed on the back of the one that was following him with every intention on capturing, then interrogating and eventually or maybe killing whoever it was. If it was a fellow brother, he wouldn't do it. He didn't expect what happened when he pounced.

His target managed to counter by grabbing his arms when he got to a standing position. Altair yanked and ended up throwing his target across the desert sands watching as his opponent rolled to their feet to expect more while drawing their sword. Altair leapt at the chance and drew his own blade and sprung forward and for a moment the sounds of metal filled the night. The dance stirred up the dirt creating a cloud to add to the intensity of the battle.

Altair was determined to win this and fought hard with every trick he knew. The swings were calculated and he could tell that his opponent was a worthy opponent. This was definitely someone to bring back to Al Mualim and would restore what he lost. He focused as he realized he was being pushed back to the cliff and he was almost bent over backwards against a boulder. When his opponent charged, he raised his boot and planted a firm push more than kick to the chest but it was enough to give him the room he needed. His hood fell off in the process but he didn't care; he wanted to win.

He managed to knock his opponent's blade away having them at his mercy. His lip twitched in a smirk as he held his blade out to indicate his victory. He thrust forward expecting the dodge but not the grip to his wrist of his sword arm. Out came a knife and his other hand became occupied with holding it away from his body. It began a game of tug-o-war as they struggled to gain an edge and ended up falling to the ground with a dull thud.

The fall had Altair end up on top and he managed to push back the hand with the knife. He manipulated his fingers to apply pressure to the wrist. He shifted his body to prevent struggling. He almost had them and the knife dropped with a dull thud along with a grunt that had him blink in surprise. He adjusted his position to pull the hood off his opponent and got a look full on at a very familiar face and his grip loosened. It was a mistake.

The blow to his manhood was unexpected and Altair's grip slackened as he doubled over allowing his opponent to wriggle out from underneath and get to their feet to run. There was no way that he was going to let them go and managed to get to his feet and give chase. He managed to catch up despite the pain and lunged forward, tackling them and pinning their arms to their body, landing in the sand with a thud. He flipped the body over while they struggled and demanded, "Stop, little falcon."

The struggling stopped and they stared at each other.


A/N: Okay here it is, the official reunion of Altair and Selma. Seems like they are having a little bit of fun now. Stay tuned for more Shades of Grey...