A/N: I'm writing this with a bottle of beer (err… second one, if matters :), and, though I have a straight plotline in my head, I don't know where these talented talkative scary guys in white can lead me :)

Great thanks and a BIG hug to everyone who reads this! Thank you for your support and patience! Hope you're still there, and this piece will cheer you up!

Enjoy!

Mercy in White

Chapter 5 --"Surprises"--

The sun was still high by the time the high gates of the village came in sight after the road had made its last turn. Opened, but heavily guarded by six armed, dangerous-looking men. The closest one caught Altaïr's look and slightly nodded, trying to show both recognition and respect, but not to be too noticeable at the same time.

Altaïr nodded in return and passed the gates, to dismount a few minutes later at the small stable near the high outer wall. He didn't want to draw unnecessary attention by riding through the village. That would be rather stupid...

That would be so much like him, a few years prior to that remarkable summer of the year 1191...

Altaïr shook his head, trying to get rid of the bitter memories that returned often enough to haunt him. That was not an easy thing, standing there, at the entrance of the village, just like then, in that September, when he rushed in, furious, eager to seek all answers he had been denied, to find justice... But instead finding only betrayal, one after another and the feeling of guilt, and shame, bitter as bile...

Today he was almost as furious and eager to find out the truth. The long way through the Kingdom was not so easy. The number of Saracen patrols was increased, and they were more suspicious than ever. A few fights on the way to Masyaf had completely exhausted him, adding even more to his rage.

Something was up...

With a sigh, trying to shake off his weariness and almost irresistible urge for a proper rest after two days without sleep, Altaïr started walking towards the stronghold as fast as possible without drawing attention.

--

"Where the hell is he?" - Altaïr growled, briefly registering the terror in the younger Brother's eyes. He had certainly told everything he knew, and didn't know what else to do with the furious master assassin yelling at him. On any other day Altaїr could even have found that amusing.

But not now...

"He has left his chamber in the morning, Brother. He didn't tell me where we can find him. Have you tried looking..."

"I have damn tried looking everywhere!" - Altaїr was close to the point of losing control. That would be such a shame, but how could he not? A mission two weeks long, then that damned bastard in black messing up with him, two sleepless nights, one of them - in saddle, escaping the Saracen patrols and, when not so lucky - fighting them... And he had finally reached Masyaf to learn that a person he laid so much hopes on was nowhere to be found?

Altaїr opened his mouth again, but the clear voice from behind stopped another torrent of complaints, ready to escape his lips.

"Safety and peace, Altaїr. Glad you're back. I guess, it was me you were looking for?"

The younger assassin retreated with a sigh of relief.

Altaїr turned back, ready to swear, but a careful glance at the stone balustrade told him they were not alone. Swallowing back all his sarcastic comments, he slightly bowed.

"Safety and peace, Master. Yes, I've been looking for you."

And, glaring at Malik from under the safe shadow of his white hood, watching the wicked sparkles in those dark eyes, he hoped that the additional "Where the hell have you been?" could be easily read on his face.

Suppressing the grin, Malik nodded and motioned at the iron doors leading to his chamber.

"Come, then. I've been looking forward to your report. I'll make orders about the dinner and the hot bath"

--

An hour later, after discussing the subject of his assassination and his numerous connections with the Templars and Christian spies, Altaїr decided that he had paid enough respect to the Hashshashin subordination. He couldn't wait any longer. Chewing the last bits of his meal, extremely hot and delicious after two days of dried meat, apples and water, he thought about the proper beginning.

"Hmm… Malik… A strange thing has happened to me in Damascus…"

Malik raised his eyebrow and motioned to continue. It wasn't often when a master of such high rank as Altaїr was surprised or puzzled by something.
Altaїr sighed, preparing to present that stupid situation in a more or less proper way.

"It all started the day Muhammed Amir had been assassinated. You must've already heard about it."

Malik winced at the word "assassinated", it was too evident. Of course, such nasty surprise... Just a few days before the Brotherhood completed the investigation... He was satisfied, that he could help Master finding out the person behind this murder at least with those bits of information, though it was almost nothing...

"I was observing the disposition of the city guards on the square next to the cloth market, and their patrolling march route, when I heard the bells ringing and the shouts "Assassin! Assassin!". I thought that was rather strange, to say the least, because as far as I knew, I was the only one of the Creed on a mission in Damascus, and I haven't attracted any unnecessary attention... "

He shrugged, and continued:

"Then I thought that it would probably be the best to get away from the plain sight and watch the development of the situation, found a stack of hay in a nearby alley and hid there…" – and, seeing the approval on Malik's face, he went on to the most interesting part of his story.

"And then… Well, I didn't think it could be possible before I have witnessed it myself… Another person jumped in the stack to hide!"

Malik choked with the wine he had been sipping during their talk and stared at his Brother, disbelieving.

"What?"

Altaïr felt even more embarrassed than before… It didn't sound so much stupid when he was thinking the whole idea over during his long journey to Masyaf. He thought that it was important, that it would help the Brotherhood... And he was so eager to find out something about that mysterious man in black…

And now he was sitting before his Master, the person he valued and trusted the most, sleepy and tired, and feeling like a complete idiot… He sighed again, tried to shake off his weariness a bit, and, seeing Malik's impatience, continued again.

"Well, I was surprised! After a brief conversation I found out, that this man was hiding from the city guards, who were chasing him in particular, calling him the "assassin". Unfortunately, I didn't pay much attention to that, and, after the alarm bells stopped ringing and the way was clear, I got out of the hay and prepared to leave. Now I see, that it was a mistake, that I could've made that bastard talk then, in that alley…"

Malik put his glass with wine aside and moved forward, his face showing the ultimate and total interest.

"Bastard? Brother, when I first saw you today, I thought that the reasons of your bad mood were just the long way home in the saddle and my absence… But now I see… There is something about this man that enrages you… You see, it's not a common fact, of course, but it's rather logical for a criminal of some sort to hide from the guards… And the forgotten stack of hay is a rather desirable shelter from a stranger's eye. Don't you think so?"

Altaïr quickly nodded, too anxious to continue.

"Yes, but… You see…" – he swallowed…

"Oh, damn you! You make me feel like a young clumsy novice! Just wait till I find out…"

"You see, I met him once more, a few days later. After I had discovered that the reason for the alarm bells was the death of Muhammed Amir. It was the evening I initially planned to head back to Masyaf, but the heavy storm made me stay at home. Actually, I had a good horse, and plenty of food to take… Rafik is showing the miracles of hospitality these days, by the way! He gave me food from their supply, a horse… And, after I decided to stay at the Bureau rather than soaking to my undergarments, even provided me with a blanket and cushions…"

Feeling his lips curve in a wicked grin, and seeing the very same expression on Malik's face, Altaïr felt encouraged.

"So, I decided to stay in Damascus, but I felt like going for a little walk under the rain… Don't stare at me! I know it was inconsequent! But… Oh… If you could see that night… See those deserted streets…"

Malik chuckled and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Romantic, aren't we?" – and, after another thoughtful look, grinned again – "But not enough romantic to enjoy the delights of making fire under the soaking rain and spending such beautiful night on horseback?"

Roaring like a wounded beast, Altaïr stood up, and already opened his mouth for a proper sarcastic reply, but saw his Master raising his only hand in a sign of apology. That had stopped him.

Malik's severe injury was always there to remind him of the person he used to be a few years ago... Young, stubborn, ignorant, self-righteous... Skilled, smart, but so stupid and blind to such common things... It was like a sharp blade disturbing an old wound, again, and again... He had no right to offend this man any more than had already been done. The only thing he could do was to become his faithful blade,instead of the one Malik had lost the ability to wear.

He swallowed back his nasty comments, and sat back again, taking a swig from his glass of wine.

"Forgive me, Brother, please. That sounded so amusing, I couldn't help myself... See, I can rarely see this side of you, so it was kind of... Unexpected... Please, do continue. I guess, there is some serious reason for you to tell me about your walk under the rain?" - heard Altaïr, returning back to their talk from the depth of his unpleasant memories. He nodded.

"Yes. I met him again that night. Saw him swan diving from one of the watch towers near the rich district, and decided to follow him. It looked very much like the leap of faith, you know... That got me suspicious..."

Seeing Malik's surprised face brought all his uneasiness back. If he was so surprised, then, probably, he couldn't tell Altaïr anything new... That would be sad...

"But it's only the beginning! I followed him through the streets to a dead end, where he was forced to take a fight with the guards and Saracen soldiers. Brother, he fought like devil himself! That was amazing! It's so rare among our swordsmen, to fight two-handed..."

"Two handed?"- Malik raised his eyes, a strange expression appearing on his face. He opened his mouth, but said nothing, only motioned to continue.

"Yes, with a sword and a short blade, some sort of a dagger... And, by the way, he held the sword in his left hand! And after he had killed all of them, and that made up six armed men, he tried to flee... But I caught the bloody bastard! And, thus, I've reached the most interesting part of my story. Malik, are you listening? We had such captivating talk!..."

Somewhen during Altaïr's emotional monologue, probably just after his incidental "he held the sword in his left hand!", Malik couldn't help any longer, stood up from his cozy armchair and walked to the window. Looking outside, at the legendary Garden of Paradise, the place of the most significant victory in their lives, and also the most bitter disappointment, being sure that nobody could see his face, Malik gave way to his feelings...

"So, you're back..."

"... And, after that, can you imagine, what this whoreson did? He touched my face! Well, to be exact, my scar. And said my name! You see, he knows me! Though I don't have a slightest idea about him... I believe, he didn't intend to say it out loud, he kind of... Lost control..."

Malik snorted, though the reason of his reaction was evident only to himself.

"Lost control... Of course, having already forgotten you and meeting again..."

And only then did he truly understand the meaning of his Brother's story. Altaïr mentioned a "he". From the beginning, only a mysterious "he"...

And that was a good excuse for another snort.

"So, your camouflage still works perfectly... Oh my, I can imagine his face, if he meets you without your mask..."

"...So, you see, he seems to be pretty well aware of the Brotherhood's affairs, and even claims to be an ally, an informant, and hell knows who else... I came to a conclusion... Malik, were you listening? Do you know this person?"

Malik turned from the window to see the face of his Brother. Looking into his eyes, the eyes of a most faithful and noble man he had ever known, he couldn't lie. He sighed, hiding his emotions...

"I can do only one little favor for you, Mistress Of the Night..."

"Yes, I know the person you were speaking about..."

--

Altaïr fell his mouth open wide.Just like that? So easily?

Seeing his confusion,Malik smiled and continued:

"Though I'm as much surprised, as you, because I haven't heard anything about... Uhm... Him... For a rather long time... You don't have to worry. He is really faithful to the Brotherhood, as he has told you. He has helped us through many years."

Altaïr shook his head. That was too much...

"How come I didn't know anything? And, what's even more important, how come he knows so much? You are the person, who gives him..."

"Stop, please, before you insult me" - Malik interrupted him - "He knows much about the Order, about Al Mualim, but we can trust him, believe me. Can you trust me? There are certain reasons that his identity and whole his existence are held in secret. Even from you, I'm sorry... Hm... Though you do know him, that's really true. We've been training together for some time, though he is slightly older, so it was rather brief experience."

"But why do you know so much? As far as I remember, Al Mualim had never considered you as his successor..."

Malik smiled.

"Would you believe me if I say it was a pure accident? I overheard a talk once, between Al Mualim and our mysterious ally, a young novice then. I wasn't hiding or anything... Just working with books in the library... Ahyway, they saw me, and knew that I had heard them. And then, sometime later, I was asked to assist him on a rather difficult mission, because I already knew something and it was convenient. Believe me, there are reasons for such secrecy. If the Templars find out, that we have contacts with this man, especially after he helped us so much by providing the disinformation about the Piece of Eden in certain circles..."

Altaïr thought his ears had just betrayed him. How else could he explain the things he had just heard?

"What? He knows about the Piece of Eden? Are you nuts? How could you..."

And once again did Malik raise his hand. And once again did Altaïr stop, with his mouth open.

"Have you heard me, Brother?" - Asked Malik quietly - "If not, then hear it again, please, and get me right. He has helped us damn big deal by providing the disinformation about the destiny of the Piece of Eden. That has provided us some peaceso far. I'm sorry. I can't tell you much, because I don't know much about him myself..."

Altaïr swallowed.

"How do you contact him,... Master?"

"That's it... You've taken offense..."

"There are several public places in Jerusalem and Damascus, where we can leave a word for him. And, though it's very seldom, he can come here..."

Raising an eyebrow, Altaïr glared at his Brother.

"Here? Unnoticed? Who is he, a ghost?"

Malik smiled. That was exactly what he had asked when learned that from Al Mualim.

"No, Brother. He is a human, like you and me. He's just amazingly skilful."

"Does this human have a name?" - asked Altaïr at last, and, watching Malik's face change, grew suspicious. Could his Brother keep something back?

No, that was impossible…

--

"I wish I didn't have to lie to you, Brother… I wish I never had to answer to this question…"

And it was even more painful, than he had expected, seeing the suspicion slowly building itself in the eyes of the man he trusted the most…

"I'm sorry, Altaïr. Even I don't know his real name. He has dozens of them. The latest one was Farid. I told you, there are certain public places…" – And, with a silent plea in his eyes, he added – "You are the closest person to me, Brother. Please, trust me. This man is not a traitor. And neither am I."

Altaïr gazed at his Master. Then, apparently after coming to terms with his own thoughts, nodded and sighed.

"I understand, Master. It's a pity I didn't have chance to ask him some more questions…"

"Oh, believe me, if I know her well enough, you'll soon meet your mysterious stranger in black…" – smiled Malik, thinking to himself.

"Now, will you excuse me? If I'm not mistaken, a hot bath is waiting for me?"

Malik laughed, partly with relief that this uneasy talk was over, at least temporarily. Yes, Altaïr had deserved a good bath, and not only that.

"Yes, Brother, and a proper rest will be your reward for your excellent work. Thank you. Safety and peace."

And, seeing the hooded figure in white leave, he returned to his own thoughts, trying to deal with his suddenly so overwhelming memories…

--

That evening he left the large ornate doors, leading to his chambers, unlocked and dismissed the most eager guards in that wing of the stronghold. That would be enough, in case…

"Ah, what beautiful, peaceful night…"

The Eagle's Nest was silent, with most part of its deadly inhabitants asleep. He was enjoying the warm breath of summer breeze playing with his hair, caressing his face.

He was waiting…

And there it was, at last… The light rustle of soft leather boots on the stone floor of the balcony, audible only for his trained ears, telling him everything about the skill of his visitor…

He didn't turn back, he was savoring the moment…

And then he felt the hot breath against the back of his neck, raising goose bumps all over his body, and that familiar velvet voice he had no hopes to hear again said from behind:

"Safety and peace, Malik A Sayf… It was a long journey…"