The hours slowly dragged on through the day as the Bureau Leader stared long and hard at Altira. The fox thief stared back just as harshly, trying to think of a way to escape. But no matter how hard she thought, the ideas left as quickly as they came. She couldn't grasp even the simplest of ideas to help her escape without seeing them all end in failure. The Rafiq stood too far away from her, and yet was too close to a nearby weapon—should she try anything strange.
She stared at the man a bit longer before turning her attention towards the opening in the wall which led to the room she was in previously.
The Rafiq took notice, "You aren't really thinking of trying to escape, are you?" he asked half-concerned.
"And what will you do if I am? Kill me?" Altira challenged.
"I would want nothing more than to kill you myself," the Rafiq answered, "But Altair was the one who captured you, so therefore, he should be the one to do it."
"Is that what he told you?" The thief's tone grew very sarcastic, "Well, it seems that he failed to mention how his idiotic fool of a companion stepped in to prevent me from dealing the final blow to his head! Altair would've been dead by now if it weren't for the other assassin! What was his name...? Malik? I shall have to return the favor for his untimely interruption…"
"If you want to continue living this short amount of time you have left, I advise you to stay your tongue," the Rafiq hissed, "Otherwise, I will not stop in quickening your demise myself!"
"Death has no hold on me."
"It will once I get through with you!"
"Oh will it, now?" Altira's voice became harsh and sarcastic, "Well then I'm curious: were you thinking of using the same poisons I stole from you to kill me?"
"Hmph! Petulant child! There are too many poisons stolen by you to choose from! However, there are some stolen ones that are rather peculiar to me…"
She eyed down the Rafiq as she continued to fidget with her bound limbs. He stared back at her just as fiercely before moving over to a shelf full of medicines and poisons. Slowly, the thief's glare became more curious as she watched the Rafiq collect two bottles from the shelf. He sat them down on his counter and returned his gaze to the thief.
"A lot more has been stolen from me by your hands," he sneered, "But the two here have piqued my interest somewhat."
He looked back at the bottles, picking up each one to examine them. Altira glanced at the small bottles and immediately recognized them, even from that distance away.
"'Oleander poison,'" he read, "mixed with oleander leaves and juice from the English Yew berries, causing paralysis and eventually death." He picked up the other bottle. "'Blood medicine,'" he said, "mixed with Yarrow plants and Butterfly Weeds, stopping the flow of blood from wounds and assisting a person's breathing. So strong, it can cure even the most ailing of bodies."
Suddenly, his eyes shot back at the thief.
"Now what, may I ask, does a thief like you want with items such as these?"
Altira turned away and stared at the floor.
"My business is none of your concern." She said.
"Oh, that is where you are wrong, young ta'lab," the Rafiq replied, "These medicines are required of my master, and he would be most displeased should even one of them go missing…"
"And you would rather heal your soldiers instead of those who are in desperate need of treatment in this city?" the thief shot back, "You men and your wars! You'll do anything to keep fighting each other!"
"We fight these wars in order to bring peace to these cities." The Rafiq countered, "How can you not see that—"
"To hell with your wars!" Altira shouted, "All you want is more bloodshed, to kill for pleasure! Well, I am out there risking my life to help the sick and needy, and I'll hurt anyone who stands in my way!"
"What a strange child you are…"
"Only those without a Black Heart can understand what it is that I do." She retorted.
That put an end to their small conversation for the time being, as Altira returned directly to trying to free her bound hands and feet. As she struggled, she looked around for any kind of tool that could help her escape.
Sadly, she couldn't find anything useful or nearby for her to use. She thought, perhaps, if her feet were free, she could easily run over to the spear at the corner of the room, kill the Rafiq and escape… or maybe she could use the exquisitely fine blade that rested along the wall behind her; but unfortunately, with her feet bound like this, she could only move so far.
And even though she hated to admit it, the Rafiq could easily stop her and, if necessary, kill her. Even the weapons scattered across the floor were useless to her. The Rafiq was already watching her every move.
How could he not when the person who had robbed his shop was sitting right there in front of him?
Out of frustration, she violently swung her bound feet towards a rather large crate full of weapons. At this point, it was all her feet were good for: kicking crates and getting more unnecessary attention from the Bureau Leader.
"What are you doing?" he snapped suddenly, "Stop that!"
The thief glanced back towards the man's face. It was full of shock and worry that made the thief squint her eyes. Being curious, she struck the crate again, this time, a bit harder as she studied the Rafiq's face for some kind of reaction, any reaction. He flinched and gasped a little as he clenched his fist threateningly at her.
"Wench!" he shouted, "I said stop that!"
She pulled her feet back a little and smirked.
"Do you have any idea what that is you're kicking?" he shouted, "Those are—"
There was no time for him to even try and explain when she kicked the crate a third time, breaking some of the boarded planks in the process. With one swift motion, he rushed towards the crate, fearing any permanent damage to his property. Altira then quickly aligned herself with the crate and the Bureau Leader. Once he came close enough, she gave the box a great big shove as it slid across the floor. Not noticing the box, the Rafiq was caught off guard as it knocked him off of his feet. He let out a small shout as he fell, face-first, to the ground with a loud bang. While in pain, the Rafiq struggled to raise his head, his eyes going wide with shock as they watched two well bounded feet swinging straight for his face!
With the Rafiq unconscious, Altira dragged her body across the floor over to the damaged crate. She then slid her bound hands across the severed edges of the crate until her wrists came free. She let out a sigh of relief as she felt the flow of blood returning to her hands. She flexed her fingers roughly, trying to get out as much numbness as she could, before her eyes noticed something strange about her hands.
Upon them were tightly woven pieces of cloth, tied across the once gaping wound in the palm of her hand from her first violent encounter with Altair. She squinted her eyes and stared at it with disdain.
"It is as if a novice tried to help me…" she mumbled, picking up a nearby blade and cutting away the rope from her feet.
Suddenly, a strange noise picked up from the other room. Frantically, the thief stood up and rushed for the other room, only to stop dead in her tracks with fear in her eyes as she stared at the roof.
The large piece of board covering the opening space was now moving about wildly, letting small portions of sunlight shine through.
"Dammit!" Altira cursed quietly to herself, "He's already here!"
Without wasting any time, she rushed towards the huge mound of pillows and quickly hid herself beneath them. Being of a small enough stature, she could easily hide her entire body beneath the large quantity of pillows. As soon as she lay there, the plank flew off from the rooftop, allowing all of the Sun's light to shine through. Its brightness even managed to hurt the thief's eyes for a moment.
While squinting her eyes profusely, she waited for the assassin to fall through.
After a few unsettling moments, Altair nearly did fall to the floor as he made his way inside the Bureau. Slowly and steadily, the assassin rose up like a warrior, but then proceeded to limp like a victim. Altira sat there in silence, watching him drag his stiff legs across the floor. She could hear his painful groaning with each step he took as he forced his body to move forward. Once he neared the entrance to the second room, Altira's eyes widened with shock at the sight of his wounded back.
'So that is what is causing him so much pain…' she thought to herself.
The back of his assassin's uniform was torn and dirty, as if he were trapped fighting off an entire Saracen army. The wide cut across the center of his back looked deep, with the rich, full red color staining his tunic. Altira could hardly imagine what kind of pain he was in, as she listened to his heavy breathing, struggling to move as he limped closer to the other room.
Suddenly, he stopped and looked up.
Confused, Altira pulled herself farther into the mound of pillows. She eyed the assassin as he tried to gather up whatever strength he had left in him to dash into the other room.
"What's this?" his tired voice reached her ears, "Rafiq! Wake up! What has happened?"
Slowly and quietly, Altira came out from her hiding place and began to creep past Altair. She gave a quick glance at the assassin and his fatal-looking wound before averting her gaze to the oddly shaped fountain along the wall. Slowly, she took a few steps across the floor, being as silent as ever, trying to reach her destination. She could hear the assassin shaking the Rafiq, trying to wake him up, but she paid it no mind. Unfortunately, she didn't notice that as Altair fell through the roof, he had dropped a few of his throwing knives as well.
And with her eyes locked on the fountain straight ahead of her, she hadn't noticed her feet accidentally kicking one of them across the floor.
She nearly gasped at the scraping noise it made as the knife slid all the way to the corner of the wall, near the fountain. She flinched at the loud clang noise it made once making contact with the wall. Slowly, she turned her head around to see if the assassin heard it too.
And sure enough, Altair did.
Altira swallowed hard as she stared at the hidden features of his face. She could feel his tension and anger as he took a few steps toward her.
In response, she took a few steps back.
And he took a few more steps forward.
She turned around completely, climbing up the fountain wall.
Altair flexed his right hand, revealing his Hidden Blade, and ran straight for her. Despite the immense pain he was in, the assassin gathered up as much strength as he could and managed to catch the thief by her hair. Violently, he yanked her down to the ground, being rewarded with her scream. The fox thief nearly bashed her head on the floor, but managed to catch herself with her elbows. She tried to sit herself up, but was pushed back down on the ground with one of Altair's hands on her shoulder, as the other tried to mash her skull in with the Hidden Blade.
She managed to stop the sudden impact with her free hand, but the blade continued to come closer to her face! Growing annoyed, Altair used his other hand to try and pry off the thief's hand from his Hidden Blade, but Altira used her other hand and managed to lock her fingers with his in order to pull them away from her. It proved difficult due to the stiffness in her hands from the poorly wrapped bandages, but she wasn't giving up without a fight!
Both the thief and the assassin's arms were slowly growing unsteady as Altair leaned further in. Altira struggled to keep his blade at a safe distance as his face drew closer to hers.
"Give up now while you can!" he growled.
"Not a chance!" she replied, "You're not going to get the best of me!"
The sight of Altair's smirk made Altira bare her teeth ominously. But suddenly, her demeanor changed once she caught sight of his face, no longer hidden beneath the shadows. She hadn't noticed how soft his eyes looked in the light. He seemed kind and thoughtful, as opposed to only seeing his rugged jaw line, which made him look fierce and violent.
Those eyes were completely opposite from what she was used to… it was as if she could see right through him to his heart, empty of any darkness…
She blinked her eyes several times when she felt the cold blade touch her face. Remembering her situation, Altira arched up her feet and kicked the assassin off of her. As he staggered, she quickly recovered and stood back up. The assassin was still staggering, so Altira took this to her advantage and charged straight for him, slamming his body hard into the wall. The collision of his back against the wall, made Altair groan loudly in pain. Slowly, his body dragged back down to the floor as Altira took a few steps away from him. Shockingly, the assassin gathered up his strength again and began to stand up once more, taking small steps towards the thief. Altira growled as she backed away to the other side of the wall.
Altair took another step closer to her,
then another,
and another,
and then he finally collapsed to the floor breathing hard and heavy, unable to push his weight up off the floor.
Taking advantage of the opportunity again, Altira ran to the fountain and climbed it, not daring to take a second look back again.
Altair tried to stand up, but he soon crippled back to the floor in pain once more. He growled heavily to keep himself from screaming in pain.
"Damn you, Robert…" he cursed under his breath as he tried to stand up, but failed yet again. "What the hell… is this pain?" Growing frustrated, he dug his fingers into the stone ground until they curled over into a tightly clenched fist. After a few more deep breaths, he pulled himself together and slowly began to rise.
"I may have failed in a rescue…" he said, "But I will NOT fail in an assassination!"
And with those words, he forced himself up completely, climbed the wall with haste, and made chase after the rogue thief.
