CH 11
The morning bells were ringing as Almira hurried pass the throng of servants at the entrance of the fortress. Exercising the horses took more time than she had planned and the bells meant she was late. Raja shot her a dirty look as she went over the day's duties. Fortunately for her, Almira's stay at the hospital wasn't over yet. She made a point not to look at her supposed superior and dashed into Halim's jurisdiction.
The day didn't deviate much from the usual. By now she has learned to effectively turn away the stubborn civilians with their shallow scratches, even if it meant becoming rather malicious at times. She also found the quiet places in the hospital where she could hide for a good half hour; it was via these frowned-upon rest stops that she met all of the lazier workers in the hospital. Halim probably knew about these hidden corners, but he was too busy to go around and check for idlers.
The dining hall was packed like usual, giving off a cacophony of chatter mixed with the clangs of bowls and cups. Almira chewed slowly on the bread, staring unfocused into the rest of the dining hall. A slim figure appeared beside her.
"Ugh." Ikram grunted, setting her plate down with more force than necessary. A few drops of water spilt from her cup.
"What's wrong? I didn't get you in trouble did I?"
"Huh? Oh no, not at all. But I did stay until well into the night and the replacement guards would not stop harassing me."
Ikram took her seat on the well-worn bench, looking at her older friend pointedly. Almira pretended not to notice.
"Come now, what happened in there?" Ikram finally gave in to her curiosity.
"Nothing. Nothing happened. I returned something he'd lost."
"You were in there for a long time just to return something."
"We talked."
Ikram straightened immediately, ignoring her lunch. "You spoke to Altaïr? What is he like?"
"He's a confident man. He talks like one."
"But all that time..."
"What else did you expect? Something carnal?"
Ikram blushed, immediately looking away. "Humph, uh, no." She rested her chin on her palm. "But I see him everyday, and yet I have not the courage to speak with him."
"Why? Altaïr is still a person, just say what you would to any stranger."
"But this is Altaïr! Take any girl here and she will become smitten and petrified in front of him; my own heart would not still when I see him." Ikram eyed her friend with…jealousy?
"I do not understand how you can act so relaxed. This is not fair! And Altaïr is not simply a person..." Ikram's voice trailed off as her mind wandered.
Almira raised an eyebrow. "You make him sound like a god. Like Allah."
"No, he is not like Allah." Ikram suddenly hissed in irriation, something that made Almira freeze. "I know you don't believe, but do not joke like this."
A dark blush crept up Almira's cheeks; her last sentence was blasphemy, heresy, and impiety all rolled into one. What did she expect? She looked away, trying to find some point of interest along the far wall of the hall. Ikram also seemed uncomfortable with her sudden flare of temper, sipping water carefully and trying not to make any noise. After a while the young maiden broke apart her bread and placed them on her plate in a rough pattern, which she then destroyed by eating a piece.
"I may be getting married soon," she said lightly, changing the topic. "Yesterday evening a man asked my father for my hand, someone he very much approves of."
Almira glanced at her, her cheeks still a bit red. "Oh? Who?"
"He refused to tell me! Only that he is an assassin here." Ikram's playful eyes flitted across the room at the mass of white-robed men, the earlier tension long forgotten.
"A brother here. Wow. Congratulations."
The young girl smiled. "Now my mind will not rest regarding who he might be." She said softly, with an excited undertone. "He must be one of the older apprentices, because anyone higher would not look for a wife among servants."
"When will you find out?"
"I shall meet him by the end of this week. Oh I simply can't wait!" Ikram grinned widely. She grabbed a piece of bread and unknowingly dipped it into her water cup.
Altaïr lied on the hard bed, staring at the dusty ceiling illuminated by the filtered light. How in the world can dust stick to a ceiling?
The first week since getting admitted to the infirmary was absolute agony. In the beginning he couldn't even change his sleeping position without going to hell and back. Adding to his discomfort was the healers' decision to stop the pain medicine after he stabilized, for fear of getting him addicted. A good reason, he realized now, but back then all he wanted to do was murder every single one of them. The pain had mostly faded into a dull ache, unless he tried to lift his arms or inhaled too deeply. Every three days a doctor came in and examined the wound, then changed the gauze covering. Twice a day a frail-looking servant girl would bring him food, along with an assortment of medicine that he must take in front of her.
After Almira's visit two weeks ago, nobody other than Malik and his brother came in to see him with the intention of staying longer than five minutes. Kadar actually visited him earlier today, only to be berated by him for leaving his lesson. Most of the other assassins dropped by just to be polite.
Only two weeks, and he wanted to pull out his hair in boredom.
To counteract it, Altaïr took great pleasure in riddling the walls of his cell with his returned throwing knife. He was careful to keep the holes sparse and apart since weapons were forbidden on the wounded. The only exception was the hidden blade because it was an earned privilege. Everyday he would practice hurling the knife at an imaginary target on the wall until he could no longer lift his arms.
Altaïr glanced at the door, hearing voices on the other side. Per orders of Al Mualim, two guards were stationed outside his door to "protect" him, when really it's to prevent him from leaving without permission. He had expected to have some non-assassin visitors every now and then, but to his dismay the two guards decided to take up duties as his own private doormen. Other than the food-bringing servant girl, Almira was the only one to get past them.
Almira. He couldn't stop thinking about what she said. The date she gave was definitely not from the Hijri calendar.
He entertained his Templar theory. Being cunning and deceiving creatures, it will be just like them to plant a spy here, to observe and to alert them of potential weaknesses. There was only one problem: a real scout will never let slip something so obvious. He would then hiss with frustration and pace around his room like a horse with bad stable vices.
Even in his hurt state the only thought on his mind was about escaping from this prison. He had even taken to wearing his uniform so he'll blend in better outside if the occasion arises.
Almira hummed quietly to herself as she swept the ground floor of the hospital. The moon shone brightly outside. The other woman assigned to sweep was off by the other end of the room, so she was more or less alone. She hasn't heard from Ikram since her excited announcement.
On a grimmer note, two servant maids were brutally murdered just two nights ago. Their mouths were tightly gagged to muffle their screams and their mutilated bodies were found hanging from meat hooks on one of the market's rafters. Such an act of brutality placed great stress on the castle's servant girls, a small number of whom insisted on leaving before sundown and the vast majority would not stay after dark. Even the threat of pay cut couldn't change their minds. Only the poorest or bravest of the girls continued to work as before. And because of this sudden shortage of labor, Almira found herself being given an assortment of totally different duties, often all in the same day.
"Almira, come here."
She leaned her broom against a wall before approaching Halim. The tall, rotund man always seemed busy, but maintained a peaceful aura about him. Almira could tell that he must've been a handsome man in his early years, but now his waistline had extended in proportion with his age.
"Get these to the cleaners." Halim gently tapped the big basket next to him with a foot, and then walked off to supervise another servant.
Almira had the load up in her arms and started to move when the stench hit her. It overwhelmed her nostrils, making her exhale sharply in shock and to drop the basket. She took a moment to catch her breath, wondering what abomination of nature she was carrying.
"What is going on there?" Halim's booming voice came from the other end of the room, "Would you kindly move? You do not get paid to stand around!"
Holding her breath, she tried again, this time wedging the basket to the side. She got as far as the darkened path before her oxygen ran out. But now that Halim was out of sight, she could place the basket on the ground without fear of repercussion. In the tall bushes something stirred.
"Who's there!?" She shouted, moving behind the big basket. Oh how she wished she still had Altaïr's dagger!
The bushes waved in earnest, until they finally parted to reveal a small girl. "Just me, no need for alarm."
"Holy…agh, you really scared me, don't do that again."
Ikram brushed off the twigs and leaves, and then bounced in Almira's direction.
"I am getting married! To an assassin!" She exclaimed excitedly, then quickly settled down and glanced around nervously.
"Well, that's great." Almira said, feigning enthusiasm. She would much rather get out the darkness and into some guard's line of sight.
"I want to tell you in person before we announce the news tomorrow. There will surely be misleading rumors."
Almira suddenly felt a surge of warmth. Ikram wanted to tell her in person, at night, after what happened so recently. Still, that did not evaporate the icy fear that tugged at her chest.
"That is very generous of you, Ikram, but you shouldn't be out right now." She pushed the basket with a foot, trying to get into some light. "And where were you the last two weeks?" Ikram pulled her back.
"Sorry I disappeared," the girl said apologetically, "but I do not know where you live and I can never find you. And ever since that awful thing," she shuddered, "may Allah rest their souls…ever since that happened my parents forbade me from staying out after dusk. Why did you not come to find me?"
Almira pushed her hair behind her ear, even though there were no stray strands. "I apologize Ikram. I…I don't know where you live either."
The two girls stood eyeing each other, until Ikram straightened up.
"Hmm, I thought you knew. Ah, we are both at fault then, and thus we are even."
"Say, can we go somewhere else? Somewhere not so…open?" As soon as she said that, Almira felt herself being dragged off to the side.
"No, not into the bushes either!"
"Apologies! But if anybody sees me and tells my parents, I shall receive the beating of my life!" Ikram said with a tinge of fear.
"What about my basket? I need to get that to the cleaners now."
"The stench! I do not want to announce my future husband's name while smelling that."
Almira tugged her hand from Ikram's grip, refusing to go any further. "Alright, fine, who is the lucky man?"
Ikram's eyes twinkled in the moonlight, smirking widely. She paused for dramatic effect.
"Jamal ibn Nidal."
Almira felt her mouth fall open with awe. When she had just arrived at the castle, Ikram took to discreetly pointing out every distinguished assassin they saw. Jamal was renowned for his ability to kill and vanish to the Bureau even before the city bells start tolling. No wonder Ikram dared to look for her at night.
"The Elite Assassin?!"
"Yes!" Ikram gushed, "Jamal is such a kind man. My family loves him! I sometimes fear this is all a dream and I'll wake up promised to no one."
"I certainly am not dreaming right now." Almira said cheerfully. "Congratulations. Now can we go somewhere not so dark?"
"Soon, I cannot stay out for long anyway," Ikram said quickly. "Jamal and my parents are trying to decide upon a good date. You must come to my wedding ceremony."
"Yes, of course, just tell me when." She answered, to which Ikram broke into a toothy grin.
"It should be soon, I see no reason to wait more than a month. I must go now. My parents will assume the worst if they discover me missing."
The small girl gave her a swift embrace, and then turned and squeezed into the dense shrubbery, though Almira could hear her trying to make a path for herself long after. She walked back to her abandoned basket, again exhaling sharply at the nauseating odor.
Ikram was getting married, and to such a high-ranking assassin. The whole fortress would be buzzing with gossip tomorrow, no doubt about it. Almira shook her head. She should be happy, or perhaps excited for her friend, but she felt nothing. Marriage was, after all, something to be expected here, nothing unusual. With a huff she heaved the heavy basket onto her hip, picking her way carefully through the darkened dirt road.
Kadar sat on the roof of the hospital, fingering the hilt of the novice sword and watching the movements below. His amputated finger had healed nicely, leaving behind a rough pinched stump that was neatly covered by the leather gloves. He turned to his tense instructor.
"Master, I am sure you would have seen something if the killer decides to come out." He said, trying to get his mentor to relax a little.
Unlike Kadar, who hung his legs over the side, Jamal sat crouched, ready to sprint down the roofs if needed. His betrothed had really lost her head and vanished into the bushes – a prime spot for a silent killing. He felt some small measure of comfort upon seeing the plants sway in accordance to her path and no other suspicious movements. Still, how dare she wander out at night? And all by herself! It takes a mere second to end a life, as Jamal knew only too well.
He, like most everyone, was shocked when the news broke out. The mere notion of someone able to perform such a gruesome murder right under the noses of the Assassins was unnerving. He entertained the idea that the killer is actually a brother gone seriously astray from the tenets of the Creed. If so, that person might move on from the First tenet to the Second, and from there to the Third. Al Mualim apparently came to the same conclusion. On that day, the Grand Master commanded his most trusted pupils to watch from the shadows. Jamal decided to bring Kadar along on his patrols, believing this unfortunate event may prove to be a useful lesson.
After days of peaceful quiet, however, his student's mind began to wander.
"But really, master, of all the beauties in Masyaf, why such a lowly servant girl?" The young novice tried to distract the older man. Though Jamal ranked far above him, and was more than fifteen years older, they had an unusual friendship. The older assassin usually treated Kadar like an equal, and would often chat with him about the little things in life. He had never even beaten the young boy, something unheard of between teachers and students. A scowled crawled across Jamal face.
"I fancy her, is that not a satisfactory reason?" He said flatly. Below, his betrothed startled another servant. Almira al-Dimashqi, he recalled. Like all of the high-ranking assassins, Jamal had memorized the names and faces of every person in the fortress.
"But why? She will not bear easily, just look at that sickly frame." Kadar commented, becoming bold.
Jamal faced him, his brows furrowed tightly together, piercing eyes flush with displeasure. Kadar immediately knew that he had struck a nerve, and turned away to study the city walls. Even so, his posture deflated under the older man's glare. Pleased with reducing his student to a quivering hunchback, the Elite Assassin refocused his attention on the darkness below.
Suddenly he spoke. "I know many people are puzzled, angered even, regarding my decision. It is one I have thought many times over myself. In the end, however, I have no family to oblige. I am free to choose whoever I will."
"But you rank so much higher than her, it would not match well." The young teenager said meekly.
"That is for me and her father to decide." Jamal's tone signaled the end of this topic.
Below, the bushes moved again. A servant emerged from the darkness, walking right below Kadar's feet. The shrubbery swayed again as an unseen person battled for a path. Jamal's body unconsciously relaxed.
Feeling exhausted from an entire day's training, Kadar yawned, something his instructor did not appreciate.
"Never signal to your enemies that you are tired, it will make them less intimidated and more likely to attack. We want to avoid unnecessary confrontation as much as possible," the assassin lectured. His pupil listened half-heartedly, stifling another yawn.
Jamal grumbled irritably, and somewhat in resignation, realizing that Kadar's lack of stamina was partly his fault, as lately he has allowed himself to get distracted by Ikram and let the training slide. It was only with Malik volunteered tutoring that the youngster didn't totally forget everything. Jamal shook his head, making a mental note to himself that starting tomorrow, he must make Kadar his priority again.
Note: bleh, rather slow chapter I know, just laying down the groundwork. Thanks for reading!