Does it count as three chapters in one day if I haven't slept between now and when I started?

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Chapter 2
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Altair crept silently along the wall, practiced fingers finding handholds he'd long ago memorized. Really, a baby… his mind still reeled.

Still, he must concentrate on the task at hand: getting his newly-revealed family to the safety of Masyaf.

Reaching Maria's window, he crept a hand over the windowsill, intending to open it and creep inside, when he heard voices.

Who was she speaking with – a man?

"…have no right to be here." He heard Maria practically snarl.

"I have every right to be here, Maria. Whatever made you think otherwise?" An Englishman. Altair shifted his handhold on the sill. He hoped this stranger would leave soon – Altair could stay perched there for a good amount of time, but not indefinitely.

"Do you mean the fact that we've never gotten along? Or how about that we haven't seen each other for half a dozen years? Or that you had me pronounced dead?" Altair frowned. Obviously these two had quite the relationship – who was he?

"My. Have you always held such ire towards me?" The stranger replied smoothly. "I do like to think we got along well in the beginning-"

"-Only because I was a foolish little romantic twit-"

"And you were the one who ran off to the Holy Land." He paused. "Not only that, I didn't have you pronounced dead, just missing. I would have thought you'd be thankful; didn't it help your little guise of 'being a man' so you could join the Templars?" Another pause. "How did that go, by the way?"

"Get. Out." She growled.

"You're still so cold." The stranger sighed melodramatically, "I haven't even told you why I'm here."

"I don't care why you're here."

"Your father died, you know." He carried on.

"I know that, you bloody git. It was years ago." She snapped.

"And all your brothers have died out here in the Holy Land."

"Get on with it."

"That makes you, my dear, his eldest living heir." Silence reigned in the room for a few moments.

"What's your point?" She said softly, so much so Altair had to strain to hear, "You should be happy; doesn't that mean you inherit his estate?"

"Ah, well, not quite." The stranger clucked his tongue. "It's been my opinion for many years that it was your father who instilled this fool sense of adventure in you. And, considering his will specifically left his estate to you, not 'the eldest child', I believe it proves my point."

"I don't give a damn about the bloody estate. I'll write a letter, you can take it."

"If only, my dear, if only. It specifically stated that the estate can only be passed onto your own blood relative. Your children, in other words." There was a pause. "Oh, believe me; I fought it as best I could. But the will was quite clear on this."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying, my dear, that I need you to come back and be my wife again."

Altair lost his grip for a moment, scrabbling to regain purchase.

"What was that?" The stranger demanded.

"It was probably just a bird." Maria snapped – blessed girl – "And you're positively daft if you think I'll be going back with you."

"We'll see, my dear. After all, you haven't got much going for you around here, do you?"

Altair heard retreating footsteps, and a slamming door. He waited until the count of three before pulling himself up and opening the window – it was unlocked, he noticed thankfully – and slipping silently into the room.

"I thought it was you. Could you have made any more of a racket?" She snapped, whipping around to face the assassin.

He ignored her, flexing his hands with a hiss. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had to hang unmoving on a ledge for so long.

She raised a delicate eyebrow at his actions. "How long were you out there?"

"Long enough." He replied, "I didn't know you were married."

"It was another time." She replied brusquely, scowling.

"Hmm." He strode up to the smaller woman, looming over her like the predator she often forgot he was, placing a hand beside her head and leaning down. "Shall I kill him for you?" He whispered softly in her ear.

She repressed a grin. Slipping around him, she headed back to the bed, picking up her satchel. "Leave him. He's a bloody ninny anyways, there's not much he can do." She paused, "He only ever wanted me for my dowry, anyways. I'm amazed he chased me this far, though I can see why if my father's estate was on the line."

"It appears I went and got involved with more than I expected." He smirked. He was surprised that she was married – though in all honesty, he shouldn't be. She was a woman of marriageable age, and he'd known she had nobility in her blood from their first meeting. That she'd been involved in a political marriage was not surprising.

Though it did not change his decision; only strengthened it, in fact. That her husband was here to whisk her – and their child – off to England just gave him all the more reason to get her to Masyaf, where he could keep an eye on her.

"You should be thankful." She said, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Your son is in line for a sizable chunk of England, it seems."

"Or daughter."

She blinked, her features softening. "Or daughter." She repeated.

He grinned. Reaching over, he cupped her face in his hands, before leaning down to brush his lips against hers, once, twice, three times. "We should be going." He murmured against them.

"Mmm. I've been ready for some time; you're the one getting distracted."

He chuckled, unraveling the rope he'd brought from around his chest. "I hope you're still able to climb."

"Over your gentlemanly streak so soon, Assassin?" She smirked. "I haven't gotten so huge I can't handle climbing a simple rope."

"Then I will go first. To catch you, should you fall." He flashed a small smile, "Since you are a terrible climber."

A horse waited near the walls of the castle – "I'm perfectly capable of riding my own, you bloody assassin!" "But what if you should fall? Better you ride with me." - And within half an hour, both Templar and Assassin were riding at a brisk pace towards Masyaf, the Assassin stronghold.

"I wish I could see Stephen's face when he realizes I'm gone." Maria laughed. "I wish I'd thought to leave him a letter, just to rub it in."

Altair raised an eyebrow. "I never knew you had this vindictive streak, Maria." There was laughter in his voice. "I hope you aren't this way with all the men you get involved with."

"Please, Altair." She said, "There's no way a man like him could keep me entertained for long. He's far too…pliable." She reached up, pulling him down to plant a lingering kiss on his scar, just on the corner of his mouth.

"Acre is out of sight. We could set up camp for the night." Altair breathed.

"That sounds like a lovely idea, assassin."

Gods, this woman could be a temptress when she wanted.