Altaïr moved from behind the desk Qamar had provided for him in his bedchamber, arms laden with parchments and scrolls he had acquired from the merchant. His saddlebag was already full to bursting, but he was confident he could make room for the items without having to leave behind anything important. He would finish up here before going to Maria to give her the news of their departure, news he felt sure would earn him a smile.
His meeting with Qamar had not been the random thing Maria had believed it to be; his family and the order Altaïr led had a long standing contract: the assassins provided his caravans with an escort to ensure safe passage through the bandit-troubled land, and the money they received in return guaranteed the assassins could afford to remain independent and impartial.
The time he had spent in the company of Qamar and his scholars had been undeniably beneficial to him, but as the days passed he had begun to notice that travelling with the caravan was having a negative effect on Maria. For the sake of propriety she had lived with the women, but Maria did not flourish in such restricted circumstances, and he quickly began to regret his choice. Leaving the caravan would have been offensive and financially devastating to his order, so he had done all he could to amuse her until they could reach the merchant's home, at which point he felt he could part company with the man without causing a rift between them.
Still many days away from his home, Qamar had appeared in Altaïr's tent, bearing news of a feast he planned to throw on their arrival.
"It's something we always do after a successful trip, and this time we have another reason to celebrate - you will be the guest of honour."
Bowing his head, he thanked his host but internally he was less than happy about the feast, another thing Maria would be excluded from. "I, of course, will stay for the feast, but my plans to spend time at your home beyond that need to be cut short. As I told you, we are moving towards India and the trip has already fallen far behind schedule; at this rate, I will never return to my brothers."
"Ah, you say that now, but I have faith once you see such treasures as I have in my library you will forget you ever wanted to be anywhere else." The merchant moved to a small chest in the corner and dropped down upon it, his red robes fanning out behind him.
"You are undoubtedly a fortunate man to have such an impressive collection at your disposal, but I doubt I will further delay our trip."
"Your companion..." Qamar was thirty-two and already a father of three, and no stranger to the moods of the weaker sex, but this Englishwoman had proved unfathomable to him. "She is an odd woman, is she not?"
Altaïr kept his expression blank as he regarded the man. "Odd is one way of saying it, but I prefer to think of her as interesting."
The two men guarding the tent, men who Maria would later hear recounting part of this conversation, grinned at each other, but kept as silent as they were expected to be. Their master, however, had no such limitations upon him.
"Altaïr, she is a Templar and makes no effort to disguise that fact. Do you not think she would have benefitted from you taking her aside and advising her to make more of an effort to fit in during her time with us?"
"Are you suggesting I should tell her to stop wearing her tunics? Should she wear a veil and cover herself as the other women do?"
Qamar scoffed and waved his hand at the younger man. "Don't be absurd! I am not ignorant of the ways of the world. A woman should only cover herself if she feels it is the proper thing to do. I would never force such a thing, but her tunic … that is another matter entirely, my friend."
"She would still be the same 'odd' woman no matter how she clothed herself. It makes it easier for you to categorise her, but you would have reached the same conclusion in the end, cross or no cross." Taking a seat so he appeared more relaxed than he felt, he continued. "She is my friend, Qamar, not my property. I cannot tell her how to behave, nor would I want to. If you feel her presence is ... provocative, feel free to say so, and we shall leave with no further delay."
"Nonsense, my friend, it is merely a subject which interests me, nothing more. It is good to question what we think we know regarding all aspects of life, and she certainly poses many questions."
Qamar moved onto another topic and quickly forgot the woman, but Altaïr did not. Later, when he was alone, he had a good deal of time to consider his friend's words. Maria's behaviour when he had invited her to study with him had confused him, but here, alone in his tent, he understood what she must be feeling. She had made every effort not to impose herself on their hosts and still it wasn't enough. Her suggestion that they 'go somewhere else' intrigued him. Where in the world would their differences go unnoticed?
A soft tapping on the door drew his mind back to the present and, taking some time to carefully place his bundles on the bed, he moved to answer the knock. It was one of the dancers from the feast.
"Good evening."
"Shalom, Master Altaïr. My name is Bujah, and I am here to see if I can be of ... service to you."
Her dusky eyes told him what her words could not say. She was offering herself to him and, considering where he had grown up and what delights lived in the garden there, he should not have been surprised, and yet ... he found himself looking along the hall, feeling unseen eyes on him, but seeing no one there he returned his attention the beauty in his doorway.
"I am departing at first light and have everything I need to facilitate that, but I thank you for your generous offer."
She stepped back from him, looking stunned, and why not? Men would beg for a taste of what he had just dismissed out of hand. The sheer fabric of her blue skirts rustled as she moved away from him, bowing her head with the first signs of a blush on her cheeks. "I will bid you good night, then, Master."
He returned her parting message and closed the door, smirking as he remembered how uncomfortable he had felt after dinner when the dancing had begun. He wasn't blind to the beauty of the women, but he had never been comfortable with such obvious displays, and so he had quickly made his excuses and left. Still, the fact that he would be unwilling to entertain one of those beauties in the privacy of his own room was a new thing, but he never had to pause to wonder why. Pulling open the door, he left to find the cause of this most recent of changes.
"Maria ..."
She stood from the bench, taken aback by this unexpected visitor. Qamar's younger brother stood behind her, apparently pleased he had managed to startle the woman. "Farooq. I came outside for some air. it is stifling inside."
"Please sit; it was not my intention to startle you." Waving an arm over the bench she had just sprung out of, he sat on the far side. "I am sorry you could not take part in tonight's festivities, but the merchant's guild is an old-fashioned group."
Leaving as much of the bench between them as possible, she sat down; placing her hands in her lap she waited to see what he would say.
"It seems you will be leaving us tomorrow, which is a real pity. I had hoped to get to know you better."
Best behaviour or not, she wasn't fast enough to keep the incredulous expression from her face.
He chuckled as he inched a little closer to her on the bench. "I don't blame you for doubting me, but I can assure you my words are sincere. You come from a far off land and can share stories from the place, and tell what life is like for our brothers in the west."
"I see. Perhaps you could have approached me sooner. I have had nothing but free time these past few weeks."
Another movement in her direction, one that she noticed and let him see her notice. "The assassin is very fond of you, Maria. Would it be inappropriate if I asked you the nature of your relationship?"
"Yes, it would be, but no matter." Lifting herself from the bench she bowed. "I'll leave you to enjoy your beautiful garden in peace; it is high time I got some sleep."
Determined to keep her pace steady she made her way to the house, but when she passed under and arched gazebo she felt fingers on her arm. "Forgive me if I offended you, but I merely wanted to establish if you were free to be ... pursued."
The man now holding her arm was not only powerful, but a friend to Altaïr, and for that reason she attempted to maintain her composure. "I'm free in every sense of the word, Farooq, but since I have no desire to be 'pursued,' we can bring this discussion to an amicable conclusion now, before we give each other cause to be angry."
Unbelievably, he raised his fingers to brush her cheek as he mumbled something about how pale her skin was. Catching his arm, she forcefully put it by his side and made to move off. "You could easily be beautiful, but you clothe yourself as a man and cover up all that is feminine about you. Why do you not make more of yourself?"
Neither of them noticed the figure in white standing in the entrance to the garden, watching this exchange with his fist clenched and his eyes narrowed to slits.
"You really must move aside and let me go to my room. I have no intention of discussing my life choices with you." He never moved closer or further from her, but she could see the heavy rise and fall of his chest and the half-closed eyes; she had been around enough men to know lust when she saw it ... "Go back now to the women who so enflamed your senses and leave me alone. Do not fool yourself into believing that I will tolerate this behaviour from you."
He seemed not to have heard her words, "I can have them anytime I want them. Life has blessed me with the ability to indulge every whim." She moved towards him as he reached for her. "I want to know what he sees in you."
If he took her advance as an invitation he was very much mistaken; she was simply better placing herself to deal with any threat which he might offer, something she was close to doing when a new voice stopped her.
"He sees a strong women who knows what she wants, and who is confident enough to reject what she doesn't."
Both pairs of eyes turned in his direction when he spoke, and as Altaïr stepped out from the shadow Farooq moved to meet him. "I had done no wrong. She is not spoken for."
"Both those facts are true, but your advances have been refused, and now I suggest you leave her alone before she does you harm."
The words "And if she doesn't, I will" were not spoken, but the threat was clearly implied. Watching him until he left before turning to Maria, the assassin crossed the garden to her.
Being around this man was probably the last thing she needed at that moment, but as was her habit, she used the pain she felt inside to fuel the poison in her words. "I was on my way to your room, but when I got there you had another visitor, one who I'm sure is more than a little disappointed with your performance. Really, Altaïr, I left the house only moments ago. Is that the best you can do?"
Ignoring her slight on his masculinity, he dealt with only the facts of her statement. "I sent her away, but more importantly, why were you coming to see me?"
Usually quick when it came to pulling a lie out of thin air, Maria stumbled briefly before she offered a weak excuse. "I was bored and wondered if you would like to talk." Looking to the house so he wouldn't see the soft smile that had crept onto her face, she tried to divert the conversation. ""You are full of surprises tonight."
"There was more than one surprise?"
Shit! Thinking fast it seemed was not on the menu tonight. "I may have overheard you telling Qamar we will be leaving in the morning."
He nodded but said nothing. Trying to ignore the satisfied smirk he was wearing she prodded further. "I caught a glimpse of his books; surely you have good reason to stay."
"You are unhappy, and that is more than enough reason to leave."
This time her smile was not only noticed but encouraging; he moved towards her and was now standing closer to her than even Farooq had dared, but his proximity was not unwelcome. "You saw the woman and left believing I would spend the night with her?"
Shrugging, she replied, "Who you spent your nights with is no concern of mine, assassin!"
He spent several seconds searching her face before he reached for her hand and pulled her along behind him. "Come with me."
Unable to free her arm she dug her feet into the earth, trying to halt his progress. "Let me go, I can walk on my own, and where exactly is it we are going?"
He stopped walking and licked his lips. "Somewhere else ..." he said, before taking hold of her again and leading them away from the house.