Chapter 8

Franchesca watched from her bedroom window as Cameron raced across the courtyard and into the town. Demetri was standing in the centre of the courtyard speaking with one of the assassins, probably about the mysterious artefact he had to retrieve.

The raven haired girl sighed before turning on her heel and leaving her chambers. She was wearing her breaches and a shirt, along with her dark navy hooded cloak as she was heading into the town.

But she would have to be devious, for she didn't want to be escorted by Altair. Or followed.

Slowly, she opened her bedroom door and stepped out. Once the coast was clear, she crept down the stairs before running along the corridor and stepping into the kitchen. The cook appeared to be elsewhere, so Franchesca easily slipped out of the back door and past the vegetable patches.

As the raven haired girl reached the edge of the building leading onto the front courtyard, she paused to peer around the brick wall.

Altair and Demetri were still speaking with one another, and judging by his height it was Demetri who faced her, and that meant the arrogant stalker had his back to her.

When they turned to go into the stables, Franchesca darted around the back and ran around the outside, making sure she was silent so the assassin's didn't think there was an intruder.

Once she was sure they were inside, she made her move and darted across the courtyard, sticking as close to the bushes as she could manage.

Franchesca ran along the dirt road towards the town in hopes of catching up with Cameron before he left for Acre. But he was on horseback, so Franchesca knew it would be difficult in making it to the city gates on time.

She pushed past people going about their daily business; women carrying clay pots, merchants delivering and setting up their wares, and the odd hung-over man making his way home from one of the many brothels, or the tavern.

Franchesca ran into the poor district, determined to get to the gates and grab a horse to join her brother on his journey to Acre. Her body, however, was not as determined as her mind. Her lungs protested from running any further, as did the muscles in her legs.

She gradually slowed to a stop just beside the city gates and watched on in disappointment as a white hooded Cameron cantered out of sight into Kingdom on his chestnut mare.

As the raven haired girl turned around to make her way back to the Middle District, she realised that she was hopelessly lost. She bit her lip as she looked around her dirt covered surroundings for any sign of an assassin; she doubted very much that the Duke's son would be in the poor district.

Franchesca began walking in the direction she believed would lead her back, and she kept her eyes open for any white hooded assassins that she could ask for directions from.

She climbed onto the roof of a building, to try and get a better perspective of where she was. And ducked into a nearby roof garden once an archer threatened to draw closer towards her. She was in desperate need of a map.

The raven haired girl remained inside whilst the guard hung around on the opposite side of the wall.

She closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath before snapping her eyes open upon hearing a muffled gargle, and then a thump.

The girl almost screamed when the curtains tore open and someone joined her inside the roof garden.

The assassin turned to face her immediately and sighed. "Your father is worried."

Of course it was Altair, Franchesca scolded herself for hoping any differently, "He needn't be."

The assassin ignored her comment, "Why are you in the poor district?"

"How did you know I was here?" She demanded.

Franchesca could feel the assassin's scowl on her as he replied, "I saw you leaving the mansion," He responded. "I've been looking for you; including roof gardens. Now, why are you in the poor district?"

The raven haired girl peered out of the roof garden before turning back to glare at the arrogant assassin, dubbed as her escort. "I was following Cameron. But he left before I could catch up."

"A good thing too," Altair replied. "I wouldn't want to ride through the desert after you."

Franchesca glared at him before getting to her feet and leaving the roof garden, "Go away!" She snapped.

"I suspected you to be lost," She knew he was wearing a smirk. "And thought you might need a hand in returning to the middle district."

Stubbornly, the raven haired girl refused to accept his help. "I will find my own way back." Carefully, she tiptoed across a wooden beam leading from one roof to another.

"You're frustratingly slow." Altair stated from right behind her.

She sped up, much to his surprise, and made it across in one piece. Next she descended a ladder, and stepped into the horrid streets of the poor district. She looked left and right, but upon spotting a group of guards on patrol, she decided to turn right to go through a small alley and into a market on the other side.

Franchesca moulded herself closer to the wall to prevent the vagrant from pushing her or striking her with his flailing arms. Altair merely barged past the man as he passed, and showed no remorse over his cruel actions.

The raven haired girl came to a stop at a crossroads, and frowned. She couldn't remember passing through this place before, and didn't know whether to turn left or right. She sighed before reaching for the nearest ladder and climbing onto the roof where she could get a good enough view of her surroundings.

She dodged past an archer; edging across a beam onto the next rooftop where Altair appeared in front of her.

He obviously had had enough of wandering around the poor district, and took her by the elbow and down a stack of crates onto the road. The assassin continued to lead the way, turning right as he stepped into the middle district first.

The raven haired girl tore her arm from his hold, scowling angrily up at him. "I said I didn't need your help."

The assassin crossed his arms, "I no longer wanted to play your silly little game. Now you are in the middle district, I will keep my distance from both you and your insolent ways!"

The raven haired girl turned on her heel without another word, and stormed off into the streets of the middle district. Hopefully she would lose him in a crowd before he climbed onto the rooftops to stalk her from a distance.

She wasn't sure what she should do for the day. She didn't want to look for the Duke's son, because Altair was the stalker, not herself. Instead, the raven haired girl sighed.

There was no adventure for her in Jerusalem.

She thought about staying out until after dark when the streets would be emptied, perhaps then she'd find something to do? Something she would enjoy; preferably going to the docks to watch the night sky?

The raven haired girl sighed as she wandered through the busy streets of Jerusalem.

She wasn't watching where she was going until she was roughly shoved by a vagrant. The shock of it caused her to scream.

As she tried to move around the man, he came at her again! Franchesca winced as her shoulder smashed into the stone wall beside her, and she only moved again once the man meandered away from her crouched form.

She shivered and continued on, only looking at her surroundings once she came to the realisation that she was (again) hopelessly lost.

Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea that she had slipped away from the assassin's view. What if she was attacked and molested by a guard like she had been in Damascus? What if she was murdered?

She took a seat on a nearby bench to try and take a guess as to where she had slipped off to, and darted her eyes upwards once she caught a glimpse of a sapphire blue cloak.

But it wasn't the handsome blonde man, it was a simple peasant. And upon closer inspection, it wasn't as deep a blue as the Duke's sons; this one was dull, and stained.

The raven haired girl stood up before walking around the side of the building and slowly pulling herself onto the rooftop above, from there, perhaps, she would get an idea as to where she should be going.

Franchesca had decided that she didn't like Jerusalem. Everything looked the same from where she was standing, the rooftops were the same sandy brown, the towers were the same shape and the streets were all filled with scrawny merchants.

Was she in the poor district again?

The girl sighed before turning around, and making her way across the rooftops.


Altair sat in Demetri's office before the older assassin, listening to the man explain his thoughts.

Honestly, the Master Assassin couldn't care about what he had in store for his long-lost daughter. As long as Altair didn't fail his part, he didn't care if the girl got raped or forced into a marriage she possibly did not want.

"I need you to find the Duke's son," Demetri was saying as he rifled through pieces of parchment. "Or at least lead Franchesca to him."

The eagle simply nodded his head in response, "I can see that done." It was why Al Mualim had assigned him responsibility over the girl, he would ensure she did her part properly, and played right into their hands.

The Master Assassin then saw a different side of Demetri, one he had only ever seen when discussing Cameron. It was fatherly protectiveness. "Altair," He began. "I do not want this to go through to the end." He stated, "I want her out as soon as this is over. Before anything is formed, before any feelings arise. I do not want her in danger." The room was silent as the assassin nodded his head, "I do not wish to ask too much of you, for I know you did not wish this task to have been placed upon your shoulders, but make sure nothing happens to her."

Altair felt cold eyes upon him, eyes that meant business, eyes only meant for a Target, "If a single hair on her head is harmed, not only will I kill this man and his Templar father, but I will hold you responsible."

The Master Assassin smirked, "I can assure you, Demetri. I have no intention of failing my tasks."

"Then find her and return her to the mansion." The older assassin stated, gesturing towards the windows. "It is growing dark outside, I do not wish for her to be out this late with all of those Templar rats."


Franchesca was frightened. The market had closed, and the streets were almost deserted. Where was Altair? A bloody great stalker he had turned out to be!

She reassured herself that he was around somewhere. After all, a stalker wouldn't let their prey out of their sight!

She jumped at the slightest of sounds, and turned to walk in the direction she had come as soon as she saw someone walking towards her.

Like a mouse surrounded by cats, Franchesca began to panic. If Altair made his presence known to her right at that very moment, she would throw her arms around him and probably cry with relief.

"Hello there, beautiful."

The raven haired girls eyes widened as she stopped in her stride, and slowly turned around to face the gruff voice that had spoken.

A dirty, drunken man stood before her; to close for comfort! So close, in fact, that she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

She took a step backwards, not sure whether to punch him and make a run for it, or wait for her stalker to do the acting.

She decided not to wait. The man took a drunken stumble towards her, and grasped hold of her arm in a sharp, powerful grasp. Franchesca winced, tears sprang to her eyes when she couldn't shake herself free and she was pulled closer towards him.

The raven haired girl tried to use her weight to release herself, but the drunk appeared intrigued by her choice of location, "I was going to choose somewhere private, but I'm not too fussed." He sunk onto the floor as well, using the girls' crouched position to anchor himself on top of her, forcing himself between her legs.

Franchesca screamed, frightened. And only hoped that her stalker wasn't too far away to hear her cry for help. But he did not come.

She kept turning her face away from his horrid, sloppy lips, and hit his hands away from her body as soon as they got to close to either her breasts or between her legs.

His weight suddenly disappeared, and the raven haired girl didn't realise she was hyperventilating until the assassin pulled her onto her feet, his arm remaining around her waist for support. "Calm down." Altair stated, "Breathe slowly and you'll be fine."

She didn't care about her pride at that moment, she threw her arms around the Master Assassin's form without remorse. And she unashamedly cried into the front of his robes for a few seconds before he pulled himself away from her, and took her by the arm to lead her safely back to the mansion.

Franchesca changed her mind about the arrogant assassin, a part of her actually liked him now. He had saved her numerous times, but she was never as grateful to him as she was right at that moment. She had hugged him for crying out loud! Actually hugged him.

For a moment she was glad Cameron wasn't in Jerusalem, because she would have been teased to no end.

She wanted to thank the assassin for rescuing her, but couldn't get over her pride of 'I can do everything myself' to say the words. Besides, he hadn't saved her life so she didn't owe him that…he had saved her virginity.

Franchesca flushed scarlet.

"Thank you." She stated as they crossed the courtyard towards the mansion. She felt his eyes on her, regarding her appreciative tone as sincere.

He didn't respond, but she knew he had acknowledged her all the same.

As they stepped into the mansion, Franchesca made her way towards the stairs leading towards her bedroom. She was tired, and drained from her short rush of adrenaline.

She donned her clothes into a pile before washing and dressing into her night clothes and making her way towards the armchair beside the fireplace.

The raven haired girl eyed the book given to her by the old Rafik, and picked it up in her delicate hands. Examining the plain cover disinterestedly, Franchesca tossed it back on the table beside her with a groan. The Rafik wanted her to read the damned thing for their next lesson, which was in the morning…but the raven haired girl couldn't be bothered.

Longingly, she looked out of the window and sighed. If she were still in Damascus she would be running across the rooftops! But here…she shivered in disgust. Here she didn't feel safe. Despite knowing that there were many Assassin's around to help her, Franchesca didn't want the same scenario as with that dunk man. If Altair had been a little later she didn't know what could have happened!

There wasn't much for the raven haired girl to do besides read that damn homework!

Franchesca got up from the armchair and groaned in boredom before throwing herself face down upon her bed.

She rolled onto her back and stared up at the canopy of dark velvet above, sighing. Eventually, she fell into a deep slumber, and awoke the next morning to the sun poking through the clouds.

Grumpily, she threw her nightclothes onto the pile of laundry from the day before and freshened herself up with a damp cloth before pulling on a deep purple dress. Franchesca ran a comb through her long, dark hair before plaiting it over her left shoulder.

Then, she picked up the book and ran to the balcony to thrust it into the bushes far below her.

She turned, and smoothed down her dress before leaving her chambers barefoot, as she headed towards the library for her lesson.

It felt like she had been waiting for an hour before the Rafik finally graced her with his presence. And when he did, Franchesca looked up at him sheepishly as he held out towards her, the book she had flung out of the window.

"You should thank Altair." He stated, placing it on the table in front of her. "You can't read it if it is lost."

The raven haired girl bit her lip as her face flushed scarlet with embarrassment. Perhaps she didn't think so highly of the Master Assassin that much anymore…

"Now, I want you to read it to me." He stated as he took a seat beside her.

Franchesca sighed as she picked up the book and opened it up to the first page, her face scrunched up at the words, and she couldn't tell if the letters before her were the ones she thought they were, or other ones. "I can't read it." She stated, defeatedly donning the book onto the table.

The Rafik sighed and picked it up, "Yes, you can." He stated, "If you try, you will succeed-"

"-But I have tried!" She exclaimed, running a hand through her hair.

He raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief, "Yes." He stated, "You tried your aim off the balcony and into the bushes. And because you tried, you succeeded."

The raven haired girl sighed before picking up the book once more.

A/N: Thank you for all the support for this story :) I hope everyone is enjoying it, please let me know and review xx