A/N: CHAPTER 20! OMG! I never realized that we would get this far and it is all thanks to you people who review, send PMs or click on the story alert/favourite feature. Thanks to LithiumSiege and marienola for their wonderful reviews on last weeks chapter! They keep my spirit up and I even caught myself translating during classes at the University O_O;! But thank you for the feedback and I promise to work hard. A/N at the bottom. Please enjoy this week's chapter :)

"Addler?" she stammered first, realizing that she was in big trouble. Addler was the name of a German lord who was known for brutality and murder. He could be compared to the mafia in Italy and Elizabeth froze on the spot. However he couldn't be very young as he would be at least sixty or seventy years old due to the time period. She sat down on the bed as she took some deep breaths, trying to collect herself and she covered her face with her palms as she screamed a special man's name inside her head: "ALTAÏR…! For Christ sake save me…!"

"My lady, is something wrong?" She started as she laid the brush on the bed. "I will have some food brought up for you." Her accent was very strong. Like hearing a speech where the foreign speaker hadn't noticed that half of his or her audience either is asleep or playing on their smart phones just because they tried not to laugh at the speaker's poor English skills. English was commonly used in the Holy Land during the Crusade, no doubt there, but the quality of it was very bad. This woman's German accent was like ruin other people's art work. Elizabeth had always thought of highly of Germany, maybe because she knew that she had some German blood in her veins.

"Never mind the food." Elizabeth exhaled as she looked at the woman with confused eyes. "How long have I been here?" The question seemed inevitable as her fingers drummed lightly on her thighs. She felt like a politician who had lost some election when she looked at the German woman and the way she looked back gave Elizabeth the chills.

It didn't take the other long to answer. "Three days, my lady." Her answer was as short as it was specific, and Elizabeth stood up with a minor bowed back as she couldn't believe the other. Her face expression had to be priceless.

"What? That is impossible. I can't have slept for three days!" Unsurprisingly the woman didn't say anything and Elizabeth sighed deeply as she placed her hands on her hips and looked around: "Can you tell me where the exit is?" She tried to ask in a normal tone so it wouldn't sound like a joke.

The woman turned her gaze away from the British woman as if she wanted to give her some privacy as she almost ignoring her request. "Please my lady." She pointed at the dress. It was obvious that she wanted Elizabeth to wear it since her master had ordered it.

"What is your name?" Elizabeth asked off-handedly.

"My name is Freida Obenrender, my lady." It couldn't get more German then that as Elizabeth studied the woman. She was as thin as one of those orphans in an old Italian war film and the woman seemed like a hopeless romantic. She had some small scars on her left cheek and her brown her was braided down her shoulder. The way she moved and talked was again enough to give Elizabeth the chills. The woman pointed at the dressed in a way a teacher would if one hadn't done their homework. She maybe looked uncertain on the outside but was strong as a rock on the inside. Elizabeth gazed down at herself feeling a bit of vanity shine over her. She decided after a debate with her inner voices to put on the dress which proved to be very difficult.

Freida tightened Elizabeth's dress a lot since the British woman wasn't very big. Her clothes and body size was mostly small and this dress was probably a large but Freida tried to make it a medium. She tightened it one more time. "Hoooh!" Elizabeth exhaled. That was now a bit too tight. The more Freida tightened the dress Elizabeth realized that she was beginning to have the posture of a ballet dancer which very pissed her of. "It's beginning to be too tight!"

Freida looked puzzled. She of course expected that Elizabeth was use to dresses like that. "It is the latest fashion my lady. All the European women here in the holy land are wearing these dresses." Her tone was still as neutral as a blank piece of paper and she even made Elizabeth fell lucky for a second.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, realizing that actually was quiet painful. "Well, somehow those women have learned not to breath." Freida didn't say anything. When the dress was on and Elizabeth had caught her breath as the German woman tended to Elizabeth's hair which could be described as a bird's nest. She took a wooden looking brush and started from the bottom and work her way up. It was painful indeed. Elizabeth hadn't brushed her hair since her left Masyaf but it was clear that someone had cleaned her while she had been asleep.

Elizabeth realized that she had also lost a kilo or two which very didn't please her since she was small enough to begin with. Elizabeth had always been one of those children having difficulty when it came to weight gain, and it didn't make it better that she was training almost every day. People that didn't know her would say that she an anorexic. People who knew her however like her friend Kasper was convinced that Elizabeth was strong as a horse no matter how small she could get. However no matter how still Elizabeth could become while sitting feeling sorry for herself. Freida reached a knot in her hair and pulled.

"Ow!" Elizabeth said, making a grimace at the sudden, but expecting pain. Her hate index for Freida was on a raise and after what seemed as an eternity Freida announced that she was done and she hurried out of the room. "What now?" Elizabeth asked herself as she stood up in her red and golden dress that clearly was way too big for her. She noticed that it had slowly become dark outside and the sea birds were beginning to find their nests and rest for the night because tomorrow would be another fight for food and survival. She swallowed her saliva as she pictured an eagle flying over her as it sang its song.

Without the song of the eagle Elizabeth understood how lonely she felt and began to wonder if her companies from Masyaf were alright. Would Altaïr be looking for her? They had a deal of course, but getting her out of this place would earn him a Victoria Cross: the highest military decoration awarded for valour "in the face of the enemy" to members of the armed forces of various Commonwealth countries, and previous British Empire territories or said with other words:' Bravery beyond the call of duty', but it wasn't his duty to rescue her. She had to think of her own way out and by that she made a deal with herself. If she got out alive and found Altaïr again she promised to setting things straight with him.

Why was it that she felt so attracted to that man and felt shame slap her in the face when she saw her engagement ring? Her consciences wanted her to feel bad since she knew deep down that she couldn't desire them both but her desire for them were both very different and the more the thoughts travelled inside her head, the more she wished she had an aspirin.

Now that she had understood that she had to escape by herself she noticed that she needed something: a plan which was difficult to find and nearly impossible putting it into life as she looked down at herself. It was made in Arabic fabrics, no question there but she realized that she had another and bigger problem. How in the world was she going to get out? A knock fell on the door and a new person stepped in or that was what Elizabeth thought as she stood up in surprise. "You?"

It was the knight how had tried to kill her a couple of days earlier who now stood before her as he leaned up against the door frame. He looked at her with his blue eyes but he had shaved. He wasn't in a knight's armour any more but wore clothes that were seeking a celebration of some sort. The colours were blue and red for his west with an eagle attacking a sword and then a black under shirt with details underneath. Elizabeth couldn't remember where she had seen coat of arms before but it was on the tips of her tongue. It wasn't Arabic fabrics like Elizabeth's dress so he had to have them brought with him from his home land of Germany. "Good evening Lady Erzebeth."

The name gave Elizabeth a shiver all the way down her back. Calling it stupid would be a pale term and she realized she had thought in panic when she had mumbled that name. Erzebeth was the name of her German mother.

"Well good evening to you." She answered back with her gaze turned away from him. "Sir…?"

"My name is Waldemar. I have come to escort you down to the celebration." His voice sounded more mature then Altaïr's but what could one expect? Waldemar would be at least forty years old, had scars running from his forehead and probably all the way down to his toes, but Elizabeth didn't want to look at them. Wait a moment, what celebration?

She swallowed her own saliva again, wishing for some of Malik's wise words to come to her mind. "What celebration my lord?" Her accent was strong when she wanted it to be, but the more she used her native language was it clear that the German man would have problems with understanding her. Also the fact that she had spoken Arabic every day for the past three months didn't make things better.

"We are celebrating that Lord Addler's the new position as regent of Acre. It was a luck that you woke up today." He said with a special hint in his voice that Elizabeth could but words into. He sounded… proud? Pleased? It wasn't like that he wasn't allowed to be happy if someone he knew, but most of these knights were bitter rivals, only wishing for each other's death.

Elizabeth realized that something here was wrong indeed. She had never read anything about Addler of Cobourg becoming regent of Acre, but she decided to stay quiet. Once again she had to admit that she couldn't make sense of history. She had to act like she wasn't even curious. "I see. Yes very fortunate indeed." She paused. "However I have never thanked you for taking care of me after I fainted in the alley." Playing innocent would possible get her through some of the troubles that lay ahead for her. "Thank you."

The man nodded as he offered her his arm as an escort and Elizabeth comprehended that she might as well accept it. "It was the least I can do since I chased you." His voice was once again neutral. Elizabeth began to think that it would be clever not to make a scene or cause attention to herself even though she was a European, she was in Acre for reasons she would at some point have to explain but all she could think of as she and Waldemar walked by those grey and old debris to an unknown destination was how much she was worried about Altaïr and the others.

She had no idea what had happened to them, and they didn't know about her either. She felt a tension throughout her body, a combination of angry, helplessness and horror that barely helped her keep her poker face up as Waldemar told her things about the world, but she just pretended that she was a good raised English Lady since they were famous in the medieval times for their etiquette and pride.

"… And that is why our horses are stronger than others." He finished saying. This man had dropped his entire life history into Elizabeth's lap for the past ten minutes' walk from her room to a great banqueting hall with at least ten meters to the ceiling and columns in the middle. The walls were covered with banner of different kinds and with various motives of animals and crosses. Another 'omg' went through Elizabeth as she saw which Templars were assembled. Waldemar had to be a Templars knight of some sort in one of their many apartments, but the Knights Teutonic and the Knights Hospitalier would be at this celebration and Elizabeth felt a chill all down her spine.

When something this exciting happened to Elizabeth she would normally and randomly slap the person next to her but this time she stood still as a statue. "You like our celebration hall?" His voice sounded proud once more as the servants began to fill the tables with enough food to keep the half of Acre well-nourished to at least a week. Meat and vegetables came in through the doors of the kitchen and the servants placed it on the long tables as Waldemar pulled Elizabeth more into the hall. "Erzebeth?" The smell of burned meat hang in the air and you could feel the late evening heat on one's skin.

"Yes?" Her voice responded on its own as she was dragged through the hall and was placed behind a big wooden chair. She looked around hoping to see anyone she knew but then remembered: 'why should there be any one here that I know?'

Suddenly a bell rang and the noise from the hall disappeared in a second. Elizabeth looked towards the main wooden door that opened slowly and an old, but big man stepped inside the hall and Elizabeth could also gasp at the sight of the giant.

There was a great tension in the hall when his Lordship entered. Every servant and every soldier was on their toes at the sight of the old man however his looks were not anything Elizabeth had expected. He was tall and robust as he worked his way through the doors. Of course Elizabeth had only seen old sketches of the Duke of Cobourg since photography wasn't invented yet. She grinned at her own thought but snapped back to reality as the old man placed his gaze on her and slowly walked towards her table. 'Oh shoot'

Addler von Cobourg was a robust and tall man with a face similar to Saruman the White from the Lord of the Rings movies, but his eyebrows, his hair and the rest of his remaining beard was iron grey. His chainmail covered his chest, legs and arms with red and golden colours in his clothes which design looked a lot alike Waldemar's clothes. He possible slept with the damn things on. He smiled slightly as he reached their table.

He stopped in front of Elizabeth and she felt the atmosphere change, but to what she couldn't decide. He was at least three heads taller than Elizabeth and she wasn't a second in doubt that if he wanted he could break her skeleton as chicken bones with those big hands. He grinned a little. "My dear Lady. Welcome to Acre. I welcome you as a friend." His voice echoed in the hallways, but Elizabeth stayed clear in her head. Maybe he liked English women?

She bowed slightly, showing her respect for the man and responded: "I thank you my Lord for your hospitality in these dark times."

He placed a finger with the size of a sausage under her chin and raised her head a little up so he caught her gaze. "You look beautiful in this dress." He started as every single person in the hall held their breath. "I'm looking forward to talk some more with you."

"Thank you my Lord." She bowed again in respect but thinking that his taste was ridiculous. She looked like a circus for Christ sake! The giant sent Waldemar a gaze of acceptance before turning on his heels and walk up to his own table. Elizabeth frowned as she turned around as she was shocked that she had just talked with one of the most dangerous men in The Third Crusade, however he wasn't supposed to be regent of Acre as little as it was supposed to be Altaïr who killed Robert de Sable.

"My follow knights! Friends! Guests! And other!" His big voice echoed in Elizabeth's auditory canal. "Let me first thank you for being here today! We are all far away from home, but our goal, sent to us from God hasn't changed and we will get success!" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. That meant that Saladin hadn't won Jerusalem yet and Acre was on the line of revolt for getting the Crusaders out. "Welcome to our celebration for liberating the holy land for the lies these lands get for their people! We will defend Jerusalem! We will fight for God and for the holy church of our lord Jesus Christ! But let us eat now my friends! Let's have an unforgettable night!"

Elizabeth bit her lower lip as everyone started to eat. She was starving for food, but she really didn't want to touch it, except the fruit. Some moments after the welcoming speech came a man into the hall dressed black and white robes with blood stains all over (what Elizabeth would guess it used to be) a white apron and Elizabeth thought that it was the cook but then she saw the red cross on his chest. She leaned her head a little over to Waldemar and asked quietly: "Sir Waldemar, who is that man?" She lifted her finger and pointed at a very small man, but he was too far away so Elizabeth couldn't see his face.

The German knight looked in the direction Elizabeth's finger pointed. He sank back in his chair and looked at Elizabeth. "That is Alain Salviani."

"Alain Salviani?" The name ran a bell in Elizabeth's ears but she wasn't certain.

"Yes," Waldemar started. "He is the new Grand Master of the Knights Hospitalier." Elizabeth widened her eyes at his words and she too sank to in her wooden chair. "I take it as you don't like him either?"

"I have never talked with the man." Elizabeth admitted, realizing that she had two of the three most brutal men that caused great pain and suffering during the Third Crusade. She only missed one, but if this was a celebration where was the third? She looked around, trying to see anyone that looked important. None of the people around her seemed to catch her gaze but then she looked to her side to the man sitting next to her who was dressed in blue and red with an attacking eagle on his vest. "Sir Waldemar?"

He turned his face. "Yes?"

"What is your position within this Order?" her question didn't seem too came as a surprise.

He looked at her curious. "I'm the Master of the Knights Teutonic." He answered, again with a special hint of pride in his voice.

Elizabeth bowed her face as her gaze turned at the plate in front of her and she mumbled: "Fuck!" She knew from that moment that she was sitting in the enemy's nest. Not only that: she had no idea what had happened to Altaïr and the other´s plus she wasn't use to Acre, especially not the higher noble count. How could this get any worse?

She couldn't take it any more. Not only had she begun to feel the fruit she had just eating wanting to abandon her as she stood up and half ran out of the celebration hall with more eyes on her then she liked, but she couldn't be there. She felt sick and she just wanted to find her assassin but suddenly an unknown man ran into her and she hit the floor and before she realized it the runner voice yelled: "Intruders!" And Elizabeth found herself in a nest of panicking, medieval people and she realized that things had just gotten worse.

To be frighting continued...

A/N I had this sweet PM question the other day asking if this story would have a good ending. I really don't know how to answer such thing but that isn't the issue, but now I can't find the PM so who send it, whoever you are I'm not ignoring you... I just can't find your PM... ;_; I'm sorry.

Also I hope to see you all next week for some more panicking events ;D