A/N: Thank you for those that reviewed. Sorry I can't name you all like I have before, but I gotta make this quick. My excuse for taking so effing long with the update is in the second Author's Note below. Enjoy.

...and I did not give up on the story. I would never... I love my OC too much. XD

[Read the following after clicking '3/4' 'Dark' in the right-hand corner there. ^_^]

Oh, and word to the ones that don't like guy on guy; there is a scene below that you might not want to read. It's not hardcore and there are no kissing or any lovey-dovey crap. It's just conversation.

Freelance Assassin
Chapter 10

I remember the summer my older brother Haytham had taken me down to the river to fish.

Fahad was far too young to come along, he was about to turn five. I myself had just turned eleven years old and earned my right to go off on my own with Haytham.

It was very rare to be invited, because father always had Haytham at the castle and Haytham always shooed me off when his friends were near by… Excitement was an understatement.

During the walk he was telling me of the travels and horse rides he had gone on along side our father. It was a very warm day and sweat ran down my face during the walk and I didn't mind the dry heated weather in the slightest.

I had a grin on my face and listened to everything Haytham was telling me eagerly while he relished in the look of complete jealousy and admiration I was giving him during his tales. I completely idolized him when he was in a good mood.

When he's in a bad mood… when he was in a bad mood for something father had said to him he would tease me, knowing full well that I give anything to tag along with him and our father on one of their journeys outside the village gates.

One time he told me father was going to take me and had me wait for him by the gates. I waited and could barely contain my own excitement, thinking of all the sights I would see and that I would finally pass through the gates and what lays behind them… but soon enough the sun had gone down and I was waiting there since mid-morning. My father hadn't come to take me out and I had missed one of our rare family outings. They had all gone swimming while I was out and when I did come home I was punished for making mother worry.

When we made it to the river he quickly went to work on sharpening a long stick instead of using the net mother had sent with us, saying father was testing him. Testing him for what? I asked him why father was testing him and he told me to get the net out so we will have something to bring home. I did what he said obediently and asked if he can make me a sharp stick too. He scoffed but humoured me anyways, but he didn't sharpen a stick for me. Instead he handed me an arrow and told me 'try not to hurt yourself'.

I didn't know what to do with it. I tried to stand at the edge of the river bank like he did and wait for a fish to come close enough to hit the arrow through but the arrow was too short and the fish didn't come close enough to the bank. Haytham got mad and told me to stop scaring the fish away.

I quickly apologised and ran to the other side of him so the fish would get to him first before I 'scared them' away. But even there the fish wouldn't get close enough!

I whined to him, telling him that I wanted a better stick. He told me to make one myself but father told me to never go near a blade and I knew Haytham would tell him I didn't listen if I annoyed him. From the way the situation was looking I knew Haytham would be annoyed and angry by the end of the day. Instead of bothering my brother again I remember a merchant saying 'If they don't come to you, you should go to them'. So I walked out and into the water until it reached my hips, arrow in hand and mimicked my brother's actions: stare into the water until a fish comes by and strike.

The water was very cold, despite the heat. It numbed my legs and caused my teeth to chatter. Not at all refreshing.

Haytham finally caught a fish and noticed me in the water. He laughed at me, calling me a fool for getting my clothes wet. I felt my face burn with embarrassment and felt as if I was going to start crying soon so I put my head down. There was a fish staring back up at me.

I felt my heart leap up to my throat and quickly stabbed the arrow into the water, making a bigger splash than needed and losing my footing in the process.

When I emerged from the water, Haytham was laughing at me and asked if I was alright. I grinned proudly and held up my arrow, Haytham's smile dropped and his eyes widened.

On the arrow was a fish as long as my arm! I caught a fish with an arrow! Even the fish that got caught in the net was not as big as mine!

I couldn't wait to show my father that I had surpassed my older brother at something for the first time. Haytham didn't talk to me during the walk back, saying that I stink of fish and that I was going to get in trouble for getting myself wet. I didn't care. When I seen our home coming into view I took off running towards it with a great big smile on my face. I ran even faster when our father's figure walked around the corner: on his way home from the castle.

I started yelling excitedly to gain his attention. "Ba! Look what I got!"

He paused and spotted me, and then waited by the door of our home. As I got closer I noticed he wasn't looking at me or my catch, he was eying my brother with a hint of disappointment and mild amusement. That didn't stop me from crashing into his legs and jumping up and down, laughing excitedly while trying to catch my breath from running so fast.

"Ba, look!" I said, holding up my fish that was still hanging on the arrow with a wide grin. My chest rising and falling rapidly.

His eyes widened for a moment before his brow rose in bewilderment as he inspected my fish and the arrow. He took it off my hands and seemed to have been surprised by the weight of it. I was having a hard time carrying it on my own, Haytham refused to help me and I thought our father was finally proud of me for my achievement.

I pointed back to Haytham as he approached, holding his catch and the net in his hands, and told him; "Mine is bigger than Haytham's catch!"

His eyes jumped from my fish and arrow to his eldest son and his catch. That look of disappointment returned and Haytham seemed to have flinched under his gaze.

My smile faded slowly and I wondered why my brother couldn't look my father in the eye… Infact, he looked like he was ashamed of himself.

"I see…" Our father said and handed the fish back to me, snapping off the arrow head. I assumed that he didn't want me to hurt myself.

The snap of the wood brought me to look back to my older brother and I flinched. Haytham was glaring at me as if he promised to do me harm in the near future. What did I do wrong?

Father's hand ruffled my hair and turned me around before gently pushing me towards the door of the house, inside I could hear mother trying to sooth Fahad's cries. But I didn't want to go inside. I wanted to stay with father and Haytham, maybe find out why he gave me such a look. I looked up to my father pleadingly and he handed the net that contained three more fish to me and opened the door for me.

"Go on inside and help your Um skin them, I need a moment with your brother." He told me gently, eying my brother with a stern look that promised punishment or a long lecture and I feared that I had gotten Haytham into trouble somehow.

It didn't occur to me until recently to realise that my father was disappointed in Haytham instead of being proud of me and my achievement.

I solemnly hung my head low and walked inside the home, muttering "Yes, ba…"

Inside I hovered at the door in hopes to catch some of their conversation, or over hear some praise from our father towards me. It wasn't the kind of praise I was looking for.

"Ba, I did as you said." Haytham's voice said evenly, in a reasoning sort.

My father scoffed and sounded incredulously. "And got bested by your younger brother?"

"I'm as surprised as you are—"

"Surprised? You should be ashamed! Have you learned nothing from me?"

I flinched and bit my bottom lip. My clothes dipped onto the cool floor, pooling around me as I held the net and my fish in my hand; the net sitting on the floor because of my lack of height. It was dim and seemingly empty inside the house. My mother's cooing can be heard from the back room along with my younger brother's fussing. She didn't know that Haytham had returned yet.

I stood alone in the entrance, guilt and anger filling me as I continued to listen to their conversation.

"Yes I have!" Haytham argued back in defence.

"Don't raise your voice at me!" My father snapped.

"Here." He said after a short pause. "A souvenir; for your failure."

"An arrow." He muttered with a scoff. The door behind me began to shift. I panicked and quickly ran into the kitchen, fish in hand and watched as my father walked inside still shaking his head and grumbling.

"If Fahad had gone with you instead he would have come back with a sea monster at the end of a toothpick!"

I flinched and looked down to my feet as my father entered the house and made a beeline to the back room to greet my mother. After he passed me I glanced up to watch as Haytham entered the house and shut the door behind him. His head was down, his mouth was set in a tight line; gritting his teeth.

He wasn't looking at me at first and when his eyes snapped up to me I jumped; in fear he was going to strike me. But he didn't. Instead he began to smile sardonically and showed me the arrow head father had snapped off only moments before, tossed it up into the air and caught it again before heading upstairs to his bedroom. His catch lay on the ground outside the door, stepped on and forgotten.

F R E E L A N C E _ A S S A S S I N

I had heard that when one is staring death in the face they suddenly realise all the wrongs they had done in their life, all the pain they had caused, the sadness… and when or if you had survived; said person spent the rest of their lives changing themselves for the better. A revelation takes place. A slap across the face by God himself.
But that is not what happened to me. It had never happened to me, or at least not yet. And I am forced to believe that whoever told this… LIED.

Did these men even think about giving up?

Gasping for air and sweat running down my brow, I climbed across another rooftop with two archers stationed on top. I have talked to these two many times before while on an errand for Raakin, but the younger of the two would shoot at me to get a laugh and a whack over the head by the elder for nearly killing me. Their names are Zafir and Makin.

Makin is the elder one, a grandfather that refused to retire from his duties as a guard of Acre. He fathered three children, two girls and one boy. His daughters were married off when they were old enough to 'good men' while his son moved to Jerusalem with a family of his own. His wife is ill and bed ridden; dying. She had caught the sickness that had begun to spread throughout the poor district and slowly making its way into the middle district. He is a… hefty man. His stomach very round and his stature was enormous. He could easily be mistaken for a thug or a vigilante on the street.

Zafir being the younger of the two, he is older than me by nearly three years and had been stationed on this building a few months ago. He has a wife, a home and a very bad sense of humour. By appearance he is a few finger widths taller than me, his black hair cut short, facial hair somewhat shaved and his eyes are a very dark shade of brown-bordering on black. His skill with a bow and arrow was not something worth bragging about but that is never a good thing when he is taking aim at me.

Please dear God, do not allow him to aim for me today. I prayed to myself as I got close enough for the two to catch sight of me and the Crusaders right at my heels.

Just like all the times before, he reached over his shoulder for his quiver and I quickly flailed my arms to gain his attention.

"No! Z-Zafir! Don't!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, trying my best to ignore the burning sensation in my throat and then launched myself over another gap between the buildings.

This one was considerably wider than the rest but hadn't noticed until I was air born. Thinking that I was not going to make this jump and fall to the hard ground crossed my mind and dread flashed through me immediately. I brought my knees as close to my chest as I could, and just barely made it. The heel of my foot hit the ledge of the building and sent me rolling ungracefully to the archers' feet.

Huffing and gasping for breath I glared back to the group of Crusaders and wiped the sweat on my brow. The group that was perusing me had shrink by a little, some looking down the mouth of the gap between the buildings I had just barely leaped across while others yelled to us in a language we did not understand. Maybe some of there men tried to jump over and did not make it? Hell, I'm surprised I didn't. My legs feel as if they were threatening to fall off if I were to run again!

When I looked up I was greeted with the bewildered expressions of the archers as they looked down to me, to the Crusaders and finally to each other; a very comical sight. I didn't care to laugh about their expressions at the moment, maybe another time when I can breathe.

"W-what have you done, boy?" Makin stuttered, his eyes jumping from me to the Crusaders wildly in bewilderment and confusion. The old man seemed a bit torn on what to do; help them by grabbing me or help me by allowing me escape. Zafir on the other hand, had a wicked grin on his face and kicked at my boot.

"Well don't just sit here! Run! Run!" He yelled excitedly, making exaggerated hand motions for me to rise and 'run'.

I lamely nodded and jumped to my feet, grabbing the bow out of his hand and then ripping the quiver off of him before running across the rooftops once again.

I could hear Zafir's yells of protest behind me, then his voice was drowned out by even louder screams of a foreign language of the Crusaders. I looked down to the street where the voices were coming from and spotted the group of soldiers scrambling to climb the ladder that led to the same rooftop I was standing on. I cursed under my breath, having a great urge to yell at them 'I don't understand what you are saying!', but they might have the same reaction to my own language and settled in running in the opposite direction.

A few buildings ahead of me, nonchalantly leaning against a safe house with his arms crossed over his chest comfortably, stood Mahjub. Running towards him I offered the best glare I can muster and he simply tilted his head towards the merchant stands below before side-stepping to the other side of the safe house where he couldn't be seen.

I am NOT going to use those damn stands! I thought determinedly, taking a sharp turn away from the market. Yelling out to him as I passed: "I'm going to kill you, Mahjub!"

I swear I heard his annoying chuckle.

Another few roofs ahead I spot another safe house. Relief filled me immediately and idiotically; without looking back to see if I was out of their line of sight, I headed straight to the safe house, using crates to help me climb up the wall before diving inside.

I admit that I did not think this through. The air inside this safe house was very thick and hot, making it very difficult to even attempt catching my breath. In mid-dive, the arrows that were inside the quiver had fallen out and scattered and snapped under me. If I live after this day I would have to remember to point Zafir in the right direction when it comes to purchasing arrows.

How could I forget? –I just trapped myself inside this safe house.

God truly has a cruel and dark sense of humour.

The yells of the foreign Crusaders have quieted, but the sound of clamouring armour and dozens of footsteps only continued to grow closer and closer before some shadows descended upon the yellow cloth that surrounded me. In a panic I pushed myself up in a crouching position and picked up an arrow to defend myself… a broken arrow.

This must be hysterical in the eyes of the Lord.

After this day; I vow to always have my weapons on hand. Always. To hell with appearances.

I could only see them by the cracks between the clothe and the wood of the safe house, also by their shadows on two sides of it.

Which was not much, maybe their leg, a few hands and their armour. Considering the fact that I am right in the middle, my eyes jumping wildly to each side of the small space inside and flinching at the smallest twitch of their shadows and trying to quietly recover the still usable arrows of the floor. Waiting for either of these men to make a move.

Damnit, I can't think. I take a deep breath as I look around and assess my situation again.

They have surrounded me, on all sides. I have nowhere to go and only arrows to defend myself with. Besides anticipating when they would strike, I know this caged feeling all too well. I am familiar with it, and knowing this calms me to a surprising degree.

"Sortez de la maintenant!" One of them barked out suddenly.

I jumped at the sound of his voice.

What does that mean? I thought in panicked frustration at the drunken sounding language of his, and a hand shoots inside; trying to make a grab at me.

I awkwardly dodge the hand and take hold of his thumb before bringing the arrow down and across his exposed palm; cutting into his flesh from under the thumb and curving into the indent between his thumb and index finger.

He yanked his hand back and yelped in pain. A long string of-what I believed were-curses came from the other side of the cloth before a sword pierced its way through the fabric from behind me; grazing past my shoulder.

Then came another at my left, another from behind, and another in front of me!

I slid onto my back to avoid anymore of their blades and silently watched as the steel ripped through my only cover. The sounds of thick cloth tearing, blades clashing against each other and their snarls and grunts thankfully drowned out the sound of my breathing.

I prayed that they accidently killed on another before they noticed me lying there.

The cloth above my head pushed in and my eyes locked with one of them. His eyes blue, the hair on his face was a golden color and his reddened face was practically dripping with sweat and dirt.

My breath caught in my throat.

He yelled out something and swiftly yanked his sword back from the cloth before bringing it down upon my head. I quickly sat up, paying special attention to the swords grazing inches above my head. The others around the safe house also brought their swords back out; making more than enough room inside. The pause only lasted a few seconds before a sword came at me; from under the cloth this time. The man's hands gripping the sword came into view. I grabbed at one of the wrists and yanked, stabbing the other hand with the arrow to loosen his grip before yanking again, successfully taking his blade.

Holding the crucifix sort of handle tightly; blade pointed at the ground. I was taken aback to find that it was a lot heavier than I thought it would be, more importantly it was long. I couldn't swing this heavy sword around in such a small space.

The sound of another sword cutting through fabric at my right jolted me from my reverie. I was not fast enough to bring up the sword properly, but turning around on my heel while my arms lengthened outwards I pushed the blade safely away from my body and even cut through both the cloth and his hand. The sword dropped inside the safe house in a clatter, one of his fingers dropping along side it.

The man howled in pain, bringing the others to pause and gape in muted horror and disgust. Their expressions possibly the same as my own when I realised that I was staring at said finger and nudged it away from me with my foot. Only to jump as the appendage seemed to have curled and thick red blood pooled around it at a menacingly slow pace.

I swallowed down the familiar feel of warm liquid rising in my throat, leaving behind an acidic burning sort of feeling in my throat. It only got worse the more I swallowed. I didn't think seeing something like this would be so…nauseating.

With them all distracted, the men that were on the opposite side of the man I had just accidently maimed moved around the safe house; leaving the one side unguarded. If I were to find a high tower or a taller building then I would have the advantage and hopefully shoot them all down.

Swallowing for the umpteenth time, ignoring the burning and licking at my dry lips, I secured the bow on my arm and as quickly and quietly as I could; placing the sword down…and ran.

F R E E L A N C E _ A S S A S S I N

It seemed like hours before I had finally lost the group of armed men and ducked between two crates with a rug hanging over and then crawled inside to rest for a moment. I know now that I mistook determination for being stupid and stubborn. Using a merchant's stand seems very welcoming at the moment. No man is fast enough to take down a large group like that with a bow and arrow. I haven't even gotten a chance to draw an arrow, let alone take aim!

I groaned in frustration and attempted to cool myself down by taking hold the front of my tunics and pulling it back and forth a few times; an odd way of fanning oneself.

If I had used a merchant's stand in the first place would my situation have been different? Of all that armour they wear I doubt a few planks of wood and some rugs would kill them. So them down maybe…is that what Mahjub wanted? To slow them down for an opportunity to escape? I wouldn't be in this situation if he hadn't done anything to begin with! Just what the hell was he taught in that Assassin's Order of his? If the other assassins are like this I don't want to meet anymore, I can barely keep pace with two.

A large number of foot steps and the sound of armour clanking together approached from behind the crates I was hiding in. I froze in fear and forced myself to hold my breath; depriving my lungs of much needed air. Laboured breath and angered muttering from behind made my heart quicken and hit against my chest. I didn't know what they were saying but I hoped that they were giving up.

My throat and lungs began to burn painfully and I was beginning to get light headed and dizzy. I was starting to panic. Just as the footsteps had begun to walk away, I gasped for air— Very loudly and I heard their armour and swords clank together when they all jumped.

I didn't wait for them to investigate and bolted out of my hiding place, only to free fall off of the damn building and land onto an old balcony-falling through and rolled into the empty, old, abandoned building.

Bits of wood and dust showered over me as I blinked repeatedly to make the room stop moving. When I gathered my wits and could see clearly enough, despite the dust cloud that surrounded me and made me cough uncontrollably, I seen that the bow had fallen out of my hand on impact and lay next to the broken window; that was once a wooden balcony. The quiver still remained strapped to my back, but very few arrows littered the floor and the rest threatened to spill out. There was also an intense pain below my left shoulder and just above my arm pit.

With a pained grunt I pushed myself up and onto my knees, the arrows sticking out of the mouth of the quiver slid back inside with soft thuds. Looking down to inspect my shoulder I could not see what was causing me pain but the smeared blood on the floor where I was lying said it all. Aside from the slivers of wood and feeling as if someone had beat me with a club, it was my only injury and by the amount of blood I can see that it was nothing serious or fatal.

Raising to my feet I experimentally moved my arm and shoulder around, resulting in a sharp gasp of pain. I was relieved to know that it can move but there was still a very painful pinch that came along with the movements. Crossing my other hand across my chest to cradle my pained shoulder I walked over to pick up the bow, my eyes scanning over my surrounding of the room quickly as I walked. This place has seen better days.

When I came into the light a few screams of rage made me jump and I snapped my attention to the same damn Crusaders that were standing on the roof of the other building. If my free hand weren't dulling the pain I would've raked my hand over my face in exasperation.

If only they were willing to take a break and try this again tomorrow.

A coughing fit took over me when I took a deep breath to sigh, just as the front man was yelling down at me. It didn't matter now since I could not understand anything he was saying in the first place. It was like having a drunk's attention. Well, so long as they stay on the other building I can take this time to breathe.

Long after my breathing regulated that man was still yelling down the same sentence over and over to me, and then pausing as if he were waiting for an answer. Other than that, neither of us moved from our spots. I guess this is the best opportunity I can get to shoot at them, but from this angle the task would be difficult. Maybe fire a few warning shots…to scare them away or back away from the ledge so I have the chance to get out of here without being seen.

I got down onto one knee, picking the bow off the floor and reaching back to the quiver for an arrow. This bow was much shorter than the bow I own, any arrow fired from this bow will not be a lethal. My arm throbbed in protest and I gave a short gasp of pain after I had aligned the arrow vain on the correct side and drew the string back. I can feel sweat beginning to form on my brow while taking aim at a Crusader's chest. My arm began to shake and something warm and sticky ran down my side from under my tunic. I grit my teeth in frustration, trying to relax my shoulder long enough to keep the bow steady.

But before I fired my arrow; one by one, the Crusaders began to drop and blood flowed from their necks like a spray of water. Some cried out in pain while others only attempted to scream, only for their voices to be replaced by a sickening gurgle.

I almost dropped the bow at the sight, confusion and fear taking over completely because I couldn't understand how this could be happening.I quickly stood and stumbled as I backed away from the window. The screams stopped and all was silent. I can feel my hair stand on end and my body gave in to a cold sweat. I need to get away from here before I meet the same fate.

I turned on my heel; towards the door of the room and bringing myself face to face with …a neck?

Tilting my head back a little ways, I was now properly face to face with Mahjub's friend; the other assassin that enjoys making a fool out of me but does it with a certain amount of kindness…well, he is kind compared to Mahjub.

"Is subtlety not sacred? I heard your cries for help from the other side of the city." He stated in a teasing manner, staring down at me with a knowing smile that slightly irked me.

I scoffed offhandedly, knowing full well that I did not cry for help and took a large step back to place some distance between us and so I do not need to look up at him like a child. I assume that it was he that had taken care of those Crusaders.

I cannot help but admire how easily he brushed off the fact he had just killed so many in a blink of an eye. I, on the other hand, only cut off a finger and…

I inwardly cringed and felt my stomach contents rise in my throat again.

A long silence had surrounded us and my new wound had begun to throb angrily, my skin in the one area unbearably warm and taut. I was risking infection if I just stood around like this, was he expecting a thank you?

"If you are not going leave then I will." I stated impatiently and walked around him, placing the bow over my shoulder and resumed to cradle my injury.

He only watched, his brow rose in question and asked, "And why is the paid assassin so upset?"

"I'm not in the mood for your meddling." I replied bluntly, looking back and gave him a sidelong glare.

"You only need someone to listen and you will feel lighter. Go on. I am not here to fight." His words cause me to pause and my glare turned wary.

I could not find any signs of murderous, or mischievous intent on him…not even a sign of he only wanted gossip. I could only find a genuine smile and eyes of concern. He was not looking at me but at my shoulder, following after me as I walked from the room and down the hall. For an abandoned home this place is surprisingly still liveable. When we made it down to the lower level I knew I had thought too soon. The rest of the home was nothing but rubble and led out to the street.

…I would be lying if I said I was confused by his act of kindness, running into one another for this long has caused me to become used of…such odd acts. They never cease to surprise me and at the same time I expect it. …I just thought he would attempt to break my arm or hold a blade to my neck to force me to talk. I suppress a mixture of a groan and sob as I realised that I had to stop thinking these men-these assassins were not out to kill me and I have to accept the fact that they were…helping me. 'Why' they decided to do so is a complete mystery to me and I have…somewhat come to terms with the fact that I may never know why…but this does not change the fact that the question is going to coerce me into madness, one way or another.

Where to start… I wonder to myself, how to begin to answer his question. Obviously I am not going to tell him every aspect of my life, only this incredibly horrid day I've had. I turned back to the stairs and motioned the assassin to follow. I did not want to cause a scene and I told him everything, beginning as we descended back up the stairs and ending when we were in the room I had fell in.

"Your friend almost had me killed and I was forced to flee for my life by a seventeen men and their swords. He didn't do anything other than hide and watch from afar; all for the purpose of making me use a merchant stand as a means to escape! And before all of this he practically beat me over a piece of paper that I was to take to the Crusaders outside the walls-which was for absolutely nothing since the Crusader only threw the letter back in my face! My shoulder has been getting injured since dawn, I smell like a flower-"

I flinched when I raised my arms, somehow in the middle of my ranting I have begun to use my arms and hand gestures to get my point across but this injury was bothersome and I reached back and ripped out whatever it was. A sharp gasp escaped me and I held a long thin, rotting and bloodied piece of wood in my hand.

"And I have wood lodged into my arm!" I growled out and threw it to the Assassin's feet. I could feel that there is more than just one and more blood ran down my arm and side from under my tunics.

The assassin looked highly amused, nearly breaking into a laugh when I mentioned the fight over the letter I had to deliver but remained quiet and listened to what I had to say. And he was right. I felt a little 'lighter'.

"What my friend had done… I only wish that I had been there to witness it." He admitted with a chuckle.

I glared at him and rolled my eyes, turning away from him on my heel; towards the broken balcony. I should have known. This man's kindness only lasts so long.

"Though it is something I could never do on purpose." He quickly explained himself and followed after me.

Stepping over the broken wood and walking onto the small platform I began to scale up the wall with great difficultly. My tolerance for pain only goes so far before my arm gave out on me and I was hanging on the wall by my fingernails with my other hand, muttering profanities under my breath as I waited for the pain to pass.

"And why not? You so kindly helped me from that tower—" I began to point out through gritted teeth until he cut me off, scaling the wall and stopping beside me with a lopsided grin.

"It is simply something I could not do. It's not in my nature." He said and gestured towards himself with a freehand and hung on the wall as I did. "And as I recall you yelled for me to 'stay back'."

"I am supposed to believe that?" I retorted, ignoring his last statement. I did not want or need to remember that horrible experience while I am climbing.

"It is not in my nature to bring harm to anything…" He trailed off and glanced to me, hesitating to finish what he was saying like he knew what he was going to say would offend me.

"What are you saying?" I growled out threateningly, running through numerous kinds of scenarios of making him fall off this damn wall. But when I looked at his face…

His face was lightly flushed and showed clear hesitation. It was the first time I have seen him like this, knowing full well that it was a very rare occurrence to those not in that Brotherhood of his it gave me a wave of confidence and at the same time it told me that I was not going to like what he is about to say.

At that moment I considered the option of falling as a means to escape.

He made it to the top of the building first and sighed when he stood, reaching into his hood and scratched the back of his neck. Then leaned over the ledge, peering down at me and reached down to grab my wrist and said, "I am saying that… you are a beautiful man."

WHAT?

I blanched and stared at the wall in front of me, my mouth hanging open; in shock or horror, I didn't know which. If he had not been holding onto my hand I would have fallen.

Because I didn't say anything or even looked at him he continued with what he was saying and pulled me up and onto the roof; on my knees, refusing to believe that I had really heard that coming from this man's mouth.

"If I had not seen your flat chest with my own eyes I would have continued to believe that you were a woman in men's clothes."

I felt heat rising on my face and knew that I face was completely red. Although I may have felt numb, I felt my body shaking and I was surprised at the sound of my own voice.

"I swear to God himself. If you do not stop I will cut out your tongue and use you as a living target for my arrows!"

He was taken aback for only a moment and brushed off my threat easily.

"No need to feel ashamed." He said to me with that damn smile.

I glared at him, malice and murderous intent coursing through my entire body, and just beneath the intent was deep, intense, unshakeable embarrassment. I did not want to blink or close my eyes in fear that a tear might roll down my face.

He was still talking when I walked past him, in a slow and eerily calm pace.

"I'm sure- Where are you going?" He asked, feigning an innocently confused expression.

I was going back to home and retrieve my poison so I can force the whole contents down his throat. No amount of garlic could help him after.

"That is none of your concern." I snapped.

"Just because I said you were beautiful does not mean you may stomp away like an angered woman."

I turned on my heel in a mid-step and threw the quiver at his head. He had caught it with ease but the mouth of it was facing him and the arrows spilled out, hitting his face and neck sharp little slaps. He gave a look that question 'was that necessary?'

"I am NOT a WOMAN! I am a MAN! Men are not beautiful!" I nearly screamed back at him… he was not fazed.

"See? Just like a woman; you are very hard to please." He stated, apparently having his point proven (whatever it was). I scoffed and turned away, shaking my head in disbelief. There was no reasoning with this man.

"You should be flattered!" He called out before jogging to catch up to me. Were all of these men so deadest on making other see thing their way? Or have I met the worst of them?

"Is this your revenge because you fell off the roof and into the gutter?" I asked with a cold stare, taking a sidelong glance to him as I continued walking.

His grin quickly faded and gave me an annoyed look, making me inwardly smirk in triumph.

"No, but now that you brought it into subject…" He trailed off, slowing his pace and looking past me.

Looking up ahead I see Mahjub standing there. He would step to the left or right, depending on where I seemed to be headed to get in my way. When our eyes met he stopped. I reached him I pushed him aside.

"Keep your wicked friend away from me, Mahjub."

"Mahjub?" The other assassin asked, probably wondering why I was calling him by that name.

I looked back in time to see Mahjub shake his head and maybe giving the other a look that promised he would explain later and asked "What happened?"

"I… may have wounded his pride with a few words." He replied with a small shrug and a faint hint of a smug smirk. Now the both of them following closely behind me.

I tensed in rage and with a frustrated growl I unsheathed Mahjub's short blade from his back strap and lunged at him. He jumped back with a laugh and I swung it back in a circular motion, hoping to slice the assassin's stomach. I can feel Mahjub tense behind me as his friend sucked his stomach in just enough for the blade to cut across the thick leather strap that was tied around his with that red sash and jumped back with another laugh. A hand fell onto my shoulder and I can hear Mahjub gently ordering me to stop this before I regret it. I glared hatefully to at the assassin that was smirking at me with his hand on his long sword and the other beckoning me to do it again. I shrugged the hand off of me and obliged by lunging forward and bringing the blade down upon him as if it were a massive club.

He blocked my attack and held, keeping me from attacking again and smirking down at me with amusement dancing in his eyes. Swiftly, I made a low kick to his shin with my heel and using my weight to push him back while his stance faltered. In return he used his blade to push mine to the side, leaving the rest of my body exposed for an attack, and without hesitation he brought his sword back to a proper position and trusted it forward with a great step, the blade coming at my neck. I immediately ducked; almost dropped, squatting down low to the ground. The blade just barely grazed hair as it past over me, his step forward putting us both back to back. I sprung back onto my feet, but I didn't expect him to swing his sword back toward me from behind.

I only caught a glance and my blood ran cold in an instant and my body tensed, readying myself for the pain of the blade slicing across my back. Instead I felt a sharp slap and I stumbled forward onto my knees with a surprised yelp.

What just happened?

Where he had hit me stung but there was no blood, there wasn't even a tear in my tunic!

I turned back to look at him, my expression must have been priceless. His shoulders shook in a deep chuckle and his lips were set in a smirk and I realised what had happened in humiliated horror… he just slapped me with his blade!

My face reddened in embarrassment and I quickly got to my feet, lunging at him with my blade to stab him through his back. Again, he easily sidestepped my attack with a graceful turn and I missed, stumbling right passed him. I was turning to try it again and the same sharp slap was given to my back-side with his hand. My back arched involuntarily; in a quick, desperate attempt to escape the spank and another yelp escaped me.

Before I can recover and attack- another blow was delivered at the very top of my head making my head bobble and I nearly stumbled. He tried to whack my head again, this time I raised my blade above my head and blocked it, taking a side-step towards him and elbowed him in his stomach. He gave a grunt and harshly shoved me into Mahjub.

Mahjub grunted as I stumbled face first into his chest, his hands quickly taking hold of my shoulders and holding me place in a vice grip. I nearly panicked and tried to shake him off or turn around, but his fingers dug into my shoulders painfully and forced a sharp gasp out of me.

"Enough." He ordered.

I unintentionally tensed at the superiority of his tone and stopped my struggling. From behind me I heard a sword being put back into its sheath; reminding me that the sword I was holding was not my own and I quickly thrust it into his chest and left them without so much as a glance back in their direction.

F R E E L A N C E _ A S S A S S I N

I returned just as the sun was setting and had Hadiya tend to my wounds. Her husband was home at the time and questioned me of how I got such injuries. My skin purple and black on my chest, arm and shoulders. Blood and sticky water-like liquid dipping profusely from the gaping hole in my shoulder. Hadiya had to use a tool to dig into my shoulder and pick out the wood pieces one by one, even finding some of my tunic inside before using that God awful cream of hers. While she was doing this her husband, Jumah, forced wine down my throat and held me down, asking me questions to get my mind off the pain.

I do not remember when I had agreed to prepare myself for interrogation and torture. But since I did not get my pay yet and I refuse to ask for money and I cannot steal while in such a state so I couldn't go to a doctor, I couldn't complain. Hadiya and her husband did a fine job anyways.

But let's just say I taught Nawar a few new words that night.

It has been a week or so since I last seen Mahjub and it was clear that I failed whatever he was trying to teach me. His friend on the other hand I had seen a few times and had a more-or-less civil conversation with him before he disappeared as well.

We ended the conversation with an exchange of names and a sign of mutual respect.

"What do you plan on naming me?" I asked him with a raised brow. He shook his head and stated that he was not going to name me like some dog before asking me for my name. I was a little surprised and gave him the name Mahjub had given me. He gave me a look but did not question it and gave me his true name in turn.

Malik Al-Sayf, meaning 'King' or 'Master of Swords'

After hearing the name fall from his lips I had realised I have never won against him and I have beaten Mahjub once or twice. By pure luck I'm sure, but never the less I have never once beat Malik with a sword without underhanded techniques; via poison and shoving him off of buildings.

"It suites you." I commented dryly, making him laugh outright.

"Well I am truly humbled by your praise, Adham." He replied with a grin and offered me his left hand.

I eyed his hidden blade warily for a moment before glancing back to his face, a small smile making its way onto my lips and brought up my own left hand. We both held each other's wrists in a loose grip for a moment, he gave a light squeeze before letting go.

Before we parted ways he gave me 'advice'.

"From this day on be wary…and keep the tenants of our Creed in mind. They may save your life when we cannot."

I didn't understand what he meant. I thought he was done with giving me these cryptic riddles and messages. I was not one of them, I did not need any rules or tenants to live by and I did not anyone saving me if I did my work right. Though he spoke as if he knows what will happen in the future; making a shiver run down my spine at the thought. It was a frightening prospect and I hoped I did not ally myself with someone that was abnormal as to have visions. I ended up ignoring his words and acted as if I had never heard him tell me such things…but I always found myself muttering their damn tenants like a prayer. His so-called advice has scared me and put me back into my old state of paranoia.

I was so rattled with his riddle that I did not take notice to the growing rate of Crusaders gathering outside the gates of the city, setting up tents and such like a fortress. It was not until eleven nights had past when the city of Acre was under attack that I understood what Malik had been trying to tell me.

Oh wow. 'I am man. Hear me roar.' XD

So… my OC is beautiful (apparently). He was beautiful enough to get spanked by Malik anyways. :D

My laptop is toast. Gone. Deceased. Along with all my data and other story ideas so, now that I'm done crying over it (not really) and I have re-written this chapter. My story is getting up to the part where Altair has to get the 'chalice' so he will be MIA for a chapter or two… or three. Plus he will be somewhat smitten with Adha. Which also means the story is moving along! Yay~! Wait… 'Adham' 'Adha'? O_O lmao, I didn't realise this until now. xD

- And I agree with Chris Talonflight, what the hell happened to Aida? XD

Oh yeah, I just realised this after I re-read the story… For someone that doesn't know how to read or write, my OC sounds a little…dare-I-say… smart? [Ignore the typos in earlier chapts. That was me being a dummy.] xD

- For future warnings, the yaoi/SLASH chapters are approaching.

- Haytham is older than Altair (Give or take a year). 'Adham' is a little older than Malik's little brother; Kadar.

- You're about to see the worst of my OC….seriously, you might not like him after chapter 11/12. O_O

See you in chapter 11.

~SafetyPinStitches

…the accident of how my laptop died involved a truck and a bear. Weird, huh?