A/N:

I apologize for the long time it took me to update. Got distracted first by Euro'2008, and then by the long-awaited book "Shadows Return", by my favorite author Lynn Flewelling. I've been waiting for it for 8 years, read it in 2 days, and now ready to continue MiW :)

Thank you to those who wait for an update and write reviews. I appreciate your attention! bows Hope you're still there to continue :)

And yes, I know how to write Altaïr's name, but as I wrote most part of this story on Pocket PC, I didn't want to waste time on correcting the symbol. Ok. I'll write it properly from now on. I'll even correct it in the previous chapters. I know, how it feels, when somebody writes your name incorrectly :)

Mercy in White

Chapter 2 --"Ruined tranquility"--

She got out of the cart and shook the hay out of her robe, then adjusted the veil on her head and looked up. The sky was slowly clearing up, as the waning night was slowly giving place to the new dawn.

"Time to get away from the streets, before the guards begin taking interest..."

Looking around, she noticed a building with a balcony and started walking towards it, enjoying cool summer air. Halfway to the building, she heard noise from behind and then – commanding voice: "Stop! Name yourself!"

"Oh, hell… Here it goes…" – She sighed and slowly turned around, hoping to manage the situation without waking all the guards in this district - "Uh… I'm Ahmeth As-Salah… A chemist apprentice, sir… My master has sent me to find some herbs…"

"In the middle of the night, huh?" - the guard grinned and moved closer.

"Oh, you see, we have a rush order. Our neighbour's wife has a hemorrhage, a serious one, he's waiting in the shop, and I've been sent to find a special herb outside the city… Unfortunately we have run out of it, and it can help better than the decoctions usually used…"

The guard spat on the ground and unsheathed his sword, starting walking towards her. As he did so, several Saracen soldiers appeared from around the corner and approached the guard, asking if there were any problems.

As, after a short conversation, the Saracens turned towards her as well, she sighed under her face mask, silently counting them. It seemed that this night wasn't going to end up as peacefully, as it had started… The chemists never wore weapons and black… as well as they seldom covered their faces… White of course was better for blending with the crowd… But she had lost her right to wear white robes…

Or, more precisely, she didn't have it from the start…

The guard was only few steps away from her now. He grinned and asked: "If you are an honest apprentice of your master, then it won't be difficult for you to guide us to your shop so that we could verify your name and probably help escorting your noble client and his wife, if they need…"

"And if you most likely refuse, or lead us the wrong way" – she read on his face - "Then I'll prove you're a dirty thief or a murderer, and, be sure, escort you to a place more suitable for such scum, as you are, then the rich district!". The soldiers didn't even try hiding their grins and chuckles, looking forward to teaching the "dirty bastard" some good manners and knocking the nonsence out of him in some dark narrow alley.

She shot a quick glance across the square, observing on the closest way that lead to the roofs of the rich district and looked at the guard with the expression of ultimate servility on her face.

"Can I pick the herbs I was sent for at first, sir? Or do you wish me to lead you to the shop immediately?"

"I'm sure your herbs can wait! Have you not heard the order of the city guard?" - One of the soldiers snapped out.

She looked at him with terror in her eyes – "Yes, yes, sir, I understand. This way, please…" – and, turning her back on them, started walking towards the nearby alley.

The noise from behind told her, that all five soldiers and a guard turned their way to follow her.

--

Altaïr watched as the person in black made his way to the dark alley leading out from the square into the rich district of Damascus. He smirked. The sword, black clothes and face mask certainly didn't help him pass as a chemist's apprentice. Though, black is good at night, when you need to disappear among the shadows in a narrow street, or at the roof of a rich house.

Silently he sneaked on the forgotten scaffolding, keeping the distance, but not falling behind. He had just got an excellent opportunity to see whether this mysterious man was as good in battle as in acrobatics and hiding. This alley lead to a dead end, but the buildings fronting on it were richly decorated with sculptures, had large amount of balconies and additional storeys, simplifying a problem of hiding from soldiers and city guards at dawn.

--

This alley lead to a dead end, but she wasn't going to wander about the city until dawn anyway. Turning around the corner, she heard a silent curse and a sound of steps speeding up. The guards knew this part of the city rather well. The familiar wall with ornate balcony was so close…

She didn't even bother turning back as, after a furious "Stop! You dirty bastard! We'll have you now!", she heard the familiar jingle of steel being drawn out, singing its battle song. The peaceful night was ruined…

"Aren't you tired yet?" – she sighed and ran, barely touching the ground with her feet, all her attention focused on the balcony with beautiful large decorative vines and ivy, and the closed door. The door was always closed, and the windows were always dark, as long as she remembered, as if this house was left especially for those like her, to disappear among the shadows right under the nose of the city guards.

As she fled the few last steps and grabbed a narrow ledge halfway to the balcony, a sharp pain in her back told her, that her pursuers were throwing rocks, using their last chance to keep her on the ground and fight. She lifted herself and reached up, for the large stone leaf, but, as the second rock bumped straight against her left side, opening the stitched wound and sending a piercing white hot painful impulse, her hand slipped and she fell to the ground, caught off guard. Having no other option, but to take a fight, she turned around, poniard ready in her right hand, and unsheathed her sword with her left one, sensing the first hot rivulets of blood running down her left side. That was rather annoying...

--

As the figure in black lost its balance and fell down, Altaïr no longer doubted that it was the same person he had met the day Muhammed Amir had been killed. He had been wounded, with that arrow sticking from his left side. Judging by the way the man was caught off guard by a simple rock thrown by one of the soldiers, the wound was still there, and the hit was rather painful.

Nevertheless, the tall slender figure took its stance immediately, turning around to meet the pursuers.

Altaïr gasped. He didn't expect to see what had just happened before his eyes. The stranger was going to fight two-handed, a sword in his left hand, and some kind of a dagger in his right. That was amazing... In all his life Altaïr had seen only a very few people who could manage that... In fact, he himself wasn't trained to fight that way, but he still remained the best fighter among the brotherhood even without that. Besides, it didn't matter much, with faithful hidden blade attached to his left forearm.

But this man was also left-handed, for his main weapon, the sword, no doubt was on its place in his left hand... That was even more rare...

He watched as the figure in black whirled, both blades hardly visible in his hands, moving so fast that they merged in one sparkling stream of silver.

"Damn, you are skillful... In what country did you train, I wonder?" Altaïr shook his head, watching in silent amusement...

"And who the hell are you?"

--

The pain disappeared, giving place to fury and excitement of the fight, and she hardly was aware of blood soaking the black silk of her robe.

"Later..."

Her sword met the first soldier half-way, spreading a fountain of blood, deeply plunged into his belly. Yanking hard, she pulled it out and turned to face the second one, sword in his hand already, ready to attack, but so slow, terribly slow… She caught his blade with her own, and plunged her poniard into his neck, finding the unprotected spot of skin right above the large artery, splashing more red blood around. With a gurgling sound escaping from his lips and a surprised look, the soldier went down, to be trampled underfoot by the four remaining swordsmen. As they attacked, she whirled and twisted, her both blades finding their targets, spilling somebody's guts on the ground, producing screams of pain and agony…

And then everything was over.

Six bloody corpses lay on the ground.

She sighed. "Everything always ends up like that... I wonder, who will count them all for me after I die, to make me pay for each life taken…"

Turning away, she noted with disgust, that there was blood on the walls, lots of it… And judging by the distant noise, somebody was already directing that way, attracted by the screams and the sound of fierce fighting.

She bent over the closest dead body and used its undamaged clothing to wipe away the blood and other sticky substance from her blades, sheathed them and turned back to make it to the decorated balcony. However, the sharp pain from the opened wound in her side returned, distracting her. Only when her fingers slipped off from the railing, she noticed that the stone was all covered with sticky cooling blood.

She tried to reach out for some support before completely losing grip, but failed and at that same moment, a strong gauntleted arm caught her wrist, holding her airborne…