"Oh please. It's ridiculous!" Malik exclaimed, reading the letter Acre's Rafiq had sent him.
Altair and Margaret had left the knights before going to the hideout where the assassins watched them argue furiously. The man hadn't been able to pacify the Mentor as he went on and on about the lady's recklessness, probably due to the rash attitude Margaret had shown ever since the ramparts of Acre came into view.
She had galloped past the guards and almost had been arrested, only Altair's intervention saved her from a potential death sentence. It was unheard of a woman to act with such impertinence and the local soldiers didn't like threats, especially coming from King Richard's niece. His name was beginning to lose importance with the heavy influence Salah ad-Din was beginning to impose in those lands.
The Christians were responsible for the Crusades and the locals, the red-haired giant came from afar was a threat. That said, Margaret was even more in danger than any of them had thought hence Altair's anger when the lady attracted too much attention at their arrival.
"I suppose it's time for them to grow up and put aside their differences once and for all" he shrugged.
...
"Tell me, Mentor. Do I need to make space for you in my room? Seeing how you're being intrusive with my personal space lately" the lady said, her pretty face distorted in a sneer when Altair followed Margaret to her door.
"I might take up on your offer, milady. It's a good thing no one can enter this hideout and smother you in sleep because in a couple of hours you managed to make several enemies and let all Acre know of your presence here"
"Just leave me alone for once! I tried to be civil and understanding in your bad mood but your attitude is very annoying"
"I can't leave you alone! Not when you're so reckless. We already talked about it when we arrived, you can't leave this place until certain news of King Richard come"
"YOU CAN'T LOCK ME IN!"
"WATCH ME!"
The pair didn't care all the residents were staring at them or overhearing the arguments, surprised their stern Mentor could be so invested in another human being and even going so far to keep her safe. Margaret couldn't surely be worth the headache Altair would gain, but judging from the heart-felt passion of his words, there was a more personal interest involved.
Almost everyone in the lair could see how the lady scorned the insistence of the Mentor for her safety and the fake indifference Altair had on his face every time she stared at him in disappointment. It was a self-protection instinct that he used since his childhood every time things became too much for him after his father's death.
The day of their worst spat ever, Altair had followed a fresh lead in the market and spoke with a merchant who declared to know where Richard had gone after purchasing some clothes. Raggedy and clearly in pain, the red-haired man hadn't been recognized thankfully but his face screamed stranger even with the sunburnt skin and hood.
The merchant had led Altair to a run-down hostel in the hope to gain the coins promised by the assassin but there was no one in the room, only a bundle of bloodied garments and a pair of worn sandals. Maybe Richard would come back to retrieve the bag with provisions left on the thin bed soon and he had to send away all those people loitering around.
The wait went on for hours and Altair already knew Margaret would have his head for it, so he turned to the only thing to do in the meanwhile, analyzing the room and finding clues on the identity of the King's pursuer.
It wasn't a large group, since he managed to escape with a serious wound but was nevertheless alive from an ambush, judging from the amount of blood in the room. The caution of his movements also indicated the wish to avoid possible spies and give away his position.
Margaret would surely appreciate the return of this man, but he doubted she would leave the matter be.
As the heavy sound of footsteps coming his way reached Altair's ears, the assassin knew it was time to step into that dangerous game. The King entered the room without noticing his presence, giving Altair a clear view of how haggard and thin he had become. A far different sight from the proud man he had met years before in the Crusaders' camp when the now Mentor had returned Lady Margaret to her family.
A bit pitiful that such a great and powerful man was now forced to live almost as a beggar after the glory he had sought to obtain in Jerusalem, not to mention the defeated slump and dark bags under his eyes. All in all, King Richard looked like a washed-out version of himself.
"Your niece would be ashamed to see you clinging to the bottle" he commented as the man in front of him went to drink some wine.
With a loud gasp, the injured king turned around to see a stranger in a white hood and armed to the teeth, not a thing he hoped to see after all his troubles.
"Who are you, assassin? What do you know of my niece? Speak or I'll take your tongue" Richard seethed.
"We already met each other, do you remember? I saved Lady Margaret after an assassination attempt..."
The King seemed to remember at least the event, even if he couldn't be sure Altair was the same man from before as every single assassin had the same apparel. Margaret had talked about the brotherhood with kindness as soon as things calmed down, especially when she thought back how much trouble she had given to Malik and Altair.
"Please, tell me Margaret is not here loitering around and you're here for other reasons"
"Sadly not. The Lady came to me requesting help, threatening multiple times of acting alone, and I couldn't let a woman risk so much without protection"
"Once more you're defending my family without profit for the brotherhood. But I fear it's too late to save me" Richard sighed, "Bring Margaret to the nearest Christian ship you can find and send her home. It's not safe here anymore, for any of us"
"You know the Lady's stubbornness, she will never leave willingly and I'm not masochist enough to bear her accusations" Altair commented, "Just tell me what happened and I'll try to solve the problem without endangering anyone"
"I don't want help! Not from you, not from my niece. Just do what I requested and let me deal with his matter, alone"
Altair, who wasn't interested in arguing and attracting more attention, relented for that night and promised to come back the following morning, at least to treat Richard's wounds properly, to give him some provisions. Meanwhile, a couple of his spies would keep an eye on the king, hoping to avoid further delays with his plans. With the presence of a target in the group, the return to Masyaf was even riskier for them all.
The assassin didn't waste time once arrived at the bureau, barging into Margaret's room and ignoring the protests of her knights. Closed the door behind his back, Altair finally noticed the state of undress she was in.
Her pale and freckled back was nearly in full display as the curtain of red curls lay on her shoulder, evoking a series of suggestive imagines in his mind, and suddenly Altair felt the brunt of repressed lust hit him with violence.
"Sorry... I... didn't know you were ready for bed" he took a deep breath to calm his hormones, but his body was already going haywire with the need to watch every crevice and soft curve displayed in front of him.
The lady went to fix swiftly the nightgown she was putting on at that moment and blushed furiously at the dark eyes peeking from under the hood, stuck on her ever since Altair barged in her room.
Secretly, she was pleased to have such an effect on the usually stern man, filled with female pride knowing she could pay him back for the merciless teasing of those days at her expense.
"Just tell me, what brings you here at this hour?" her voice wavered a bit but all in all, Margaret tried to be as calm as possible under the scrutiny of the older man.
His hands itched to touch her smooth skin and his mouth felt dry for the first time in his life.
Altair wasn't sure if he could restrain himself that time.