Chapter Nine

I open my eyes to the walls of the Assassin's Bureau as a wave of nausea sends me into a dizzy state. The thought of Khara returns to me as I attempt to stand up, only to be stopped by a searing pain racing through my body. Breathless for a moment, I lay my hand on my stomach to find a thick bandage wrapped across my torso in place of my normal white robe. Out of the corner of my eye I watch as the Rafiq makes his way towards me as I take sharp staccato intakes of air from my pitiful attempt to stand. The Rafiq towers over me as fragments of the past flash through my memory, from the snarling face of the Templar to the faint russet brown eagle that had flown through my fading peripheral vision. Thousands of emotions cloud my thoughts, the most significant being anger from my vexation at how quickly my time with Khara was taken away. Just the thought is enough to send my eyes watering again and emotions tearing through my heart. Blinking back relentless tears, I look back up at the Rafiq.
"You lied to me."
The man's words are filled with a bitter betrayal as I glance up hopelessly, not sure what to say and whether I should make up a bunch of excuses. All I really want to do is run away and hopefully find a lead as to where Khara might have gone.
"You lied to me," the Rafiq repeats, his words flung hatefully at me like daggers. Despite my deception, I can't help but think that he has no right to talk to me in such a way, due to the fact that he doesn't know about Khara. For a moment I have an urge to tell him everything about her in the hope that he will let me go. But as I look up at the Rafiq's fiery eyes, I realise guiltily that he doesn't trust me anymore. Would he understand? Would he bother to understand?
"Sorry," is the most I can say under the intimidating glare of the Rafiq's eyes. I can clearly see the disappointment etched across his face as I look back at him silently.
"Sorry is not enough. What were you doing bleeding on the ground despite where I told you to go?"
My mind struggles to form words through my guilty thoughts, but the Rafiq simply sees my silence as an invitation to continue.
"Don't take it lightly that you're alive right now. I could have easily left you to die. We are all capable to let someone down but I will not do that. I will not be that. Now go. Back to Masyaf. Al Mualim will be the one to deal with you." The Rafiq pauses and his gaze hardens. "And this time, you will go back to Masyaf."
The man outstretches a hand and I take it thankfully. The gash across my torso still aches but I decide that this is not the time to be making excuses. The Rafiq hands me back my robe and hood as I nod gratefully.
"Thank you," I say, trying to leave on good terms. But the Rafiq simply looks back at me with the same hurt and dismayed expression. Quickly I pull on my robe and climb up the wall of the Bureau, but a lot clumsier and slower this time due to the pain in my chest. Awkwardly, I take an uneasy jump onto the ground and walk away towards the city gates. To Masyaf, not Khara. My heart seems to crack more with every step as I walk further and further away from what I want to do. But I can't turn down the Rafiq again or Al Mualim. Can I?
Feeling hopeless, I walk as slowly as I can to try and postpone my inevitable meeting with Al Mualim. I turn the final corner to the city gate just as hushed words from a nearby conversation float past my ear.
"Damascus? Why would an army of Templars be going there?"
My feet halt a little too abruptly from excitement as my mind starts reeling. I stand unmoving for a moment to get a grip on my emotions before following the source of the sound to see two men sitting side by side on an old bench, whispering nervously to each other.
"Some people have seen a prisoner amongst their people. But I can't say any more."
One of the two men scuttles away from the bench while the other is left to contemplate. The conversation replays in my head as I look back at the city gate not too far away. Damascus. Masyaf. Khara. Al Mualim. I could run after Khara but I might simply fail again from dropping my guard. The conversation might have false facts, it could be all a rumour. I could just walk away now and simply forget about Khara. The Rafiq's words come back to me as my mind argues with itself about what is right and wrong. A small congregation of scholars shuffles past teasingly as I jump to a final choice. It's now or never.
My decision is adamant as I rush forward and blend with the moving crowd. With my head lowered towards the ground I walk through the city gate as the guards around me turn away, unaware of who I really am. As the scholars drift further away from Acre, so too does the desire to return to Masyaf despite the Rafiq's harsh words. Instead it's replaced by the desperation to follow my new route before I doubt myself and turn back. With haste I dash away from the scholars, the idea of seeing Khara tugging at my legs. The dirt track beneath me breaks into two but I ignore the one that I know will take me to Masyaf. My guilty conscience finally breaks free from the shroud of my once clear decision and shouts in disappointment at my choice. But I simply ignore it and continue to stride towards the track leading to Damascus.