Chapter 29

Everyone! Please forgive me! I'm sorry for such a ridiculously long time between chapters, I've just bee so rushed off my feet recently. Even if I haven't replied, I read and appreciate every review so please keep going! Thankyou so much for bearing with me, I appreciate your patience.


Having sat under that small square of open roof for longer than I now cared to remember, I had become used to Altaïr periodically climbing in and out. In fact, I was expecting it, seeing as Altaïr hadn't returned from his excursion a few hours before. I wanted to make sure he was alright and so I was patiently waiting for his arrival through the roof. I wasn't, however, prepared for people that I didn't recognise and the moment that the young boy dropped from the sky, I swear that I nearly stopped breathing through shock.

To be fair, I scared the boy just as much as he scared me. He'd landed perfectly on the floor, looked up and seen me and then promptly staggered, nearly losing his balance completely. I relaxed the moment I saw the red sash around his waist and the distinctive cut of his robes; he was at least an Assassin and not an enemy. I could see that he was wondering whether to politely enquire as to who I was, or pull out his sword and run me through.

"Can I help you?" I asked timidly, feeling terribly out of place asking an Assassin such a question in his own bureau.

"It very much depends on who you are." He replied politely but guardedly.

I laughed nervously, "Well, I'm not really anybody important but I'm the only one here at the moment. Do you need Nasih?"

"No, I need the Grand Master."

It's surprising that it didn't click at that point. "The Grand Master?"

He held back an exasperated sigh. "Indeed. The Grand Master. Do you know where he is?"

For a moment, I only floundered in ignorance, not immediately knowing any person who fit such a title. However, it isn't long before you realise that if Nasih is the person he isn't looking for, it can only be the other.

"You mean Altaïr?" I said incredulously, seeing the surprise on his face that I thought must be due to my casual use of his first name.

"Yes."

"He isn't here at the moment." I replied, "But I'm sure he will return soon."

The youth nodded but remained where he was, stock still and unsure of me.

"Is the Grand Master important?" I asked tentatively after a few moments, intrigued at this title Altaïr seemed to have gained.

His eye brow rose ever so slightly and he looked at me almost pityingly. "Indeed." He replied sarcastically.

I decided that I didn't like this boy very much.

"But what does he do?"

"How do I know that I can tell you such things?" He replied, his eyes narrowing at me.

"Good point." I replied meekly, now hoping that someone would drop through the ceiling and relieve me of my duties as 'entertainer'.

Almost as if I'd spoken aloud, I saw Nasih's foot touch the top of the fountain and then the rest of his body appeared as he climbed down and stepped on the floor.

He turned around and immediately saw the boy who bowed his head in greeting.

"Ah, Omar, I was told you would be arriving." beamed Nasih, beckoning Omar as he walked through the doorway to his desk. I knew I would not be welcome in their conversation in person, so I sat outside the doorway to listen instead. Call it eavesdropping if you will.

"Who is she?" Omar whispered indignantly, so quietly that had I not been where I was, I wouldn't have heard anything.

"Altaïr's lover." Nasih stated. My cheeks began to burn and I was mortified; couldn't he have introduced me as Malik's cousin instead?

"Really?!" Omar squeaked.

"Omar, you need not sound so surprised, just because you have the virility of wet cabbage does not mean that we are all afflicted." He quipped drily.

I almost gave myself away by laughing but managed to avert any disaster by clamping my hands over my mouth at the last minute.

"So what news do you have to bring?" Nasih asked. "I was sent a letter by Malik only saying that you would come with important news. News of such importance that it wasn't to be sent by pigeon for fear of interception." He ended curiously.

"Indeed." He said proudly.

I heard the familiar scratching sound of a scroll unrolling and being placed on the desk before Omar spoke again, his voice now subdued and serious.

"It is a warrant of assassination for Conrad de Montferrat, soon to be appointed King of Jerusalem."

"Ah, I thought as much."

"As temporary Grand Master, Malik has told me to tell you that he has discussed this at length with the Elite's and this is the only conclusion they have come to."

"As always, as always. And the information is contained within the scroll?"

"Yes. All additional information is in there."

"Good." Sighed Nasih. "This will be strangely unfortunate for Altaïr." He mused.

"I thought so too." Omar replied, his voice loosing the severity with which he had previously spoken, "But he is the only one who the Master feels is able to do it."

"Of course. I'm sure Altaïr would have chosen to do it himself had he been able to resume his position as Grand Master."

Omar didn't reply further, all I heard was an almighty yawn and a small chuckle from Nasih.

"Thank you Messenger Omar. I take it you will be requiring a bed and some food."

"That would be greatly appreciated. Riding nonstop for forty eight hours can really exhaust you."

"No doubt about it. The bed is this way."

"Thank you."

I heard the door click shut and then the familiar rustle of maps resumed with Nasih presumably hunched over his desk, like always. I pursed my lips and decided not to think too hard. If I didn't think about it, then I wouldn't be able to think too much into it and I felt that that would serve me better at the moment. But information like that is hard to forget and try as I might, I couldn't get it out of my head. Death is never an easy subject to broach.


When a strange, ethereal calm enveloped the streets and the cool morning crispness drove people to quicken their step, Altaïr found the city to be at its most beautiful. He stepped in his quick, deliberate way, enjoying the city from the ground instead of from upon the rooftops. In the silence, he was aware of everything around him; the near silent padding of a small animal; the sound of the canopies of merchants stalls catching the wind and being pulled upwards, as if the breeze wished them to escape. He was mere minutes from the bureau when he heard a minute sound behind him. As a small as it was, it was undoubtedly the footsteps of another person.

He was being followed.

In response, Altaïr turned down a road to his right, walking in the opposite direction from the bureau but not giving an indication that he had realised what was happening. He instinctively flexed his right fist. He casually turned down another street and still he heard the soft shuffling, far behind him but still distinct. He ran through the possibilities in his head; a guard perhaps? Had he been recognised from his near escape last week? Or perhaps a common thief? Whoever it was, as long as they were nowhere near the bureau, Altaïr could easily deal with them.

The footsteps suddenly sounded closer, indicating to Altaïr that the person was becoming bolder, however the softness remained and so he could tell that the stalker was still not aware that he knew. He tried to discern who it was, listening for staggering but hearing nothing; it wasn't simply a drunk man on his way home. The following was without a doubt, deliberate.

Another few moments and Altaïr was starting to become faintly irritated. It had been over five minutes and yet the person had made no attempt to kill him. They were just following. Having made sure it wasn't just a harmless citizen, Altaïr waited until the gap between them had closed ever so slightly and then lunged backwards, grabbing his stalker by the neck and slamming them up against the wall, hearing the crack of their head connecting. As expected, the person's hands grappled at his wrist but they were surprisingly small and slender. He looked up and came instantly face to face with a woman. His eyes met hers and in that instant, he was a child again, looking imploringly at her as she stood upon the rock on that godforsaken night, with only her stony resistance staring back at him.

"Liv…" He choked, his hand falling away. Her face was unmistakeable. Her prettiness had flourished into beauty and the sad, exquisite eyes that had stared at him all those years ago were the same. For the first time in a long time, he was speechless.

Liv looked fearfully at how Altaïr's horrified expression quickly turned to anger. She had put her life in his hands by coming here but had no guarantee that he wouldn't immediately crush it.

"Altaïr…" She began imploringly, as if trying to reason with him, her head throbbing from where she'd been knocked against the wall.

"Don't say my name." He spat, not even looking at her. Looking at her would be like admitting she was there. She didn't say another word. All the sweet, emotional reunions that she had been hoping for were instantly dashed by the look of unfathomable fury upon his face. In all her wildest imaginings, she had never considered that he would be so angry. She hadn't trekked continuously between Damascus and Jerusalem to be faced with this. The night she ran away was branded upon her mind eternally and his threatening words before he had left forever were as clear now as they were then:

"If I see you again I will have to kill you. I have failed my mission already but I will not fail again."

Altaïr took a deep breath and steadied his sudden burst of anger. The initial shock of seeing her had conjured up his boyish emotions; his anger and his hatred. But they left as soon as they had appeared. There was still anger and more importantly, there was hurt, but there was also the sweetness of memories. He took a step forward and looked her in the eye.

"Altaïr!" She breathed joyfully, seeing the changed expression, the calm eyes. But suddenly, his face warped before her eyes and the throbbing in her head exploded, her knees crumpling underneath her.

"Liv!" Altaïr shouted, stricken, catching her body as it fell, limp to the floor. Her eyes fluttered back and she was drifting in and out of consciousness. Altaïr touched his hand to the back of her mass of curls and wasn't surprised to find blood; he had flung her hard against the stone wall. He grasped her cheeks and shook them, making sure she was at least blearily awake before he picked her up and began to walk to the bureau.

Even as he looked at her in all her breathtaking beauty, he wasn't surprised to find that he still felt nothing towards her beyond his platonic love. Ever since she had left he had missed her with all his heart. He'd lost his second sister. But that was all she was; a sister. He suddenly began to will himself to love her, as if by doing so, he could alleviate the pain he had caused her. But all he could think about as he looked upon the face were the years they had missed.

Liv's eyes flickered once more and she could vaguely make out his jaw from her odd angle. How lovely he was. She had seen him before today and at that time, she was only able to marvel at how wonderful he had become. But there had been a girl too; she remembered suddenly, what of the girl? When Liv had first seen her she had been so angry and jealous that she'd followed her to the inn where she was staying. She was slightly ashamed of how she had acted then but seeing Altaïr for the first time made her feel like she had ten years ago; a helpless child, madly in love. There had been the pain again also; the anger and most of all, the sorrow that she had missed out on being with him while somebody else now seemed to be.

She didn't regret leaving Masyaf, only Altaïr, but if she went back, Altaïr would have been killed for failure to carry out his duty. She couldn't remember when she had made the decision to try and find him again but it had been at least two years now. They were both older and wiser and she was sure that they could make things work now. Altaïr couldn't deny her now; she would make it easy for him to balance his life and work. She wouldn't be a distraction. Suddenly, her thoughts became fuzzy again and she slipped back out of consciousness only to have Altaïr slap her lightly on the cheek.

"It is dangerous to fall asleep with a head injury." He said quietly. She could only murmur incoherently in response but her quiet mumblings assured him that she was still awake. Now, his thoughts turned to Asra. What would he say to her? He had trusted her with his past already; Liv was simply part of that. However, the thought of telling Asra that Liv had suddenly appeared in his life again made him uncomfortable. She was far too gentle and trusting to be jealous but he felt like this was something he wanted to keep to himself. He needed to sort things out between himself and Liv first.

Altaïr reached the bureau and carefully slung Liv over his shoulder before scaling the wall up to the roof. The sky was still dark and the gentle glow of candles from within the bureau illuminated Asra's sleeping face as she lay, clothed thickly in her nest of blankets. He was relieved to see she was on her back, meaning that her wounds were not causing her pain any longer. But her peaceful slumber also meant that no-one was able to help him lower Liv down. He cursed silently and cradled Liv under one arm, dropping down rather more cumbersomely than usual. He laid Liv down and spent a few moments simply staring at her face, still hardly believing that she had appeared so suddenly into his life again. He felt so familiar looking at her like this and he smiled as he touched her face lightly and her eyebrows twitched. It occurred to him that he had nothing to fear from anyone in Masyaf now, should he choose to reinstate Liv there with him. He was the Grand Master now and he had killed the secret of Liv when he had killed Al Mualim. A small smile touched his lips at the thought and he felt as if he could make it work for them both. After making sure that she was in no imminent danger from her head injury, he passed Asra's peaceful yet haphazard form and walked to Nasih's desk. Nasih was still up, poring over documents within the half light of burning candles.

"Ah Altaïr, glad that you are finally here."

"You have something for me?" Altaïr enquired, given the tone of Nasih's voice.

"Yes, a very interesting piece of news, direct from Malik's desk. An Assassination obviously."

Under any other circumstance, this would have been news to which he would have reacted with his usual nonchalance. However now, with Liv lying only a few meters away, the prospect of having to leave both her and Asra left him feeling cold. He would have no control over what Liv told Asra or what she did. Inasmuch as he wished to trust Liv like he had before, he didn't truly know what she was like anymore. She could be nothing like the person he used to know and that set him on edge. He kneaded his forehead in irritation, not knowing where to place his loyalties, and turned to Nasih again.

"Fine, who is it?" He snapped.

Nasih registered his tone in surprise but knew not to pry.

"Conrad."

Altaïr cursed under his breath. "Damn. I will have to travel to Acre."

"Indeed. All other details are in this scroll." He said, handing it over, along with a single white eagle feather. "Malik requests that you leave today. Time is of the essence. His coronation is looming."

"Of all the times…" Altaïr fumed angrily under his breath, marching out into the other room without another word. He sat between the two sleeping women and unrolled the scroll, still an air of irritation cloaking him as he fumbled angry with the curling of the paper. Almost between each word, his eyes were drawn to Liv and after a few moments, he simply released the scroll and gazed at her.

Why had she come back? He'd been so angry on that night that his threat must have seemed real to her. Why did she return when she had been threatened with death? She must have found him simply by trial and error, there was no other way. With the knowledge that she had of the brotherhood, she would have known that there was constant travel between Damascus, Jerusalem and Acre. Those three cities were among the largest in the country and large cities have the most conflict; wherever there is conflict, there are the Assassins keeping an eye on it. But that is all she could have known. How long had she been searching for him? But what interested him most is where she had been all those years. As he gazed at her now, he only hoped that he would be able to make amends.

To his right, Asra was still asleep, now curled up tightly with the softest of smiles touching her sleeping face. Looking at her, he could only think of how much he had put her through as well. Since she had come into contact with him, she'd been attacked by thieves and captured and tortured by guards. He had sent Malik an update since arriving in Damascus, hence how Malik knew where he was, but he hadn't told him about what had happened to Asra. He couldn't do it; it would be like admitting failure. He was meant to be protecting her. He now just wanted to get her to Berothai as fast as he could. Falling in love with her on the way hadn't been part of the plan but his job came first. He had been asked to deliver her there and no matter his feelings, he would.

He stroked her cheek lightly, knowing how much he would miss her when the time came to leave her.


I felt the lightest of touches on my cheek and it broke the spell of sleep. I sat up and blearily tried to focus on Altaïr who I was relieved to see had returned after last night. I smiled at him and we said nothing to each other as I curled into his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around me. I would have fallen back to sleep had I not suddenly caught sight of a dainty foot that most certainly wasn't my own. I jumped out of his embrace in surprise, crawled over his outstretched legs and kneeled next to the sleeping form of the same beautiful woman I had seen on many occasions now; so many occasions now that it was bordering on uncomfortably fateful.

I looked at Altaïr wordlessly for some sort of explanation. "Found her injured." He replied simply. I turned from surprise to concern.

"Is she alright?" I asked, glancing over her body looking for any obvious wounds.

"She knocked her head." Altaïr said evasively.

"Is it alright for her to be sleeping?"

"Don't worry, she's alright, I've been monitoring her."

"If you're sure." I replied and stepped back over his legs, curling back into his side. We were both silent for a long time, not uncomfortably so, just quiet. Reflective was probably the word. Eventually his soft voice broke the calm.

"I'm going to have to leave later on today."

"I know." I replied, my eyes closed.

"Well you shouldn't, because the information was meant for my ears only." He smirked.

"It's a small building. You can't help what you hear." I shrugged.

"Like hell." He laughed.

"How long will it be for?"

"I don't know. I will be as quick as possible. In the meantime, be careful."

I nodded. "But what about her?" I enquired, looking in her direction.

He didn't answer for a minute and I was almost about to repeat my question when he gruffly replied: "I don't know."

"It's okay; I'll look after her here." I smiled, "I'm sure she'll be better in a few days, and then she can go back. She must have people worrying about her."

"Perhaps." He replied distractedly. "But be careful."

"Don't worry; I'm almost completely well again but, could you tell me, truthfully, what my back looks like?" I asked timidly, voicing the concerns that I'd only been thinking about up until now.

I turned around and pulled my tunic down slightly, exposing the top half of my back. I watched for Altaïr's reactions and sighed when he sucked in his breath a little in surprise. I hadn't expected much more.

"That bad?"

"It's not that it's particularly bad. I've seen and sustained worse myself but on you…on you it's horrific."

"Don't sweeten it..." I muttered, "What does it look like?" I enquired morbidly, as if I wasn't talking about my own body.

"You've seen my chest. It's like that, only redder. But they'll fade in time." He replied, touching his fingers to my back and following the lines of my scars so that I could feel where they were.

I sighed and pulled my tunic back up, sitting back down next to him. Strangely, having these wounds really didn't bother me. I think it's probably due to the fact that I wasn't able to see them.

"You're still beautiful." He murmured.

"I'm sure you'd be saying something different if they were on my face." I laughed.

He didn't reply to my quip and I glanced up at him; he was staring into the wall opposite. "I'm so sorry." He said, his voice rough.

"Altaïr, you saved me from so much worse. This wasn't your fault." He still didn't say anything. "They're only scars; they're superficial, just aesthetic." I assured him, "They don't bother me so they shouldn't bother you!"

He chuckled quietly and pulled me closer. "I'm glad." We sat together for a few moments longer before he stood up and announced that he was packing. I shuffled closer to the beautiful woman and checked her over, feeling her temperature and checking her breathing. She was sleeping very deeply but she was well. I didn't want her to be alone when she woke, so I kept a constant vigil while listening to Altaïr clattering around in adjacent rooms.

Gradually, the dark morning began to melt away to give way to the sun that threw facets of light through the ceiling, illuminating the woman's face and warming my body. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the gentle heat, opening them again a few minutes later to find the woman sitting bolt upright and wide eyed in shock. She looked about to shout.

"No, no! Please don't scream! You're okay, my name is Asra. You were brought here early this morning by my friend. You hit your head really hard. How do you feel?"

She looked at me like I was sprouting extra limbs, her body tense and ready as if she was about to flee, like an animal caught in a trap. She moved slightly but winced in pain, her hand flying automatically to her head.

"Don't move too much." I advised, "Let me get you a drink."

I grabbed a cup from next door, catching Altaïr's eye and wildly, wordlessly indicating for him to help. He looked displeased at the idea but followed me through and stood there, statuesque, while I filled the cup up from the fountain and handed it to her.

"Thank you." She said quietly, her eyes on Altaïr the whole time as she sipped slowly. I felt uncomfortable looking at her because of how intensely she was looking at him, as if I was invading upon some private moment. I fidgeted nervously with my hands, not knowing quite what to say to either of them. It was just uncomfortable.

Altaïr looked at the woman and then sighed.

"I shall be leaving now." He announced.

"So soon?" I replied, standing up and walking to him.

"I must."

"Good Luck." I kissed him only on the cheek, conscious that the woman was completely focused on us, staring at us with an intensity that was unnerving.

Altaïr also seemed conscious of her presence and avoided touching me. "Be careful please." He said in hushed tones meant for me only. He looked at the woman as he spoke and squeezed my hands in place of any other display of affection.

The woman's eyes, almost her whole body, followed him the whole way even as he was climbing the fountain.

And as his foot disappeared from view, so I was left with the woman.