AUGH these chapters are so SHORT I hate it. But I don't want to determine where to cut them by length, so here we are....

But I promise we're building up to something big.

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Chapter 4
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The days passed without incident, for a time. The assassins at Masyaf had been wary of Maria, at first – it was well known she was a Templar, and she did nothing to hide it – but had eventually come to accept it, as it soon became obvious she was "Altair's woman" (she hadn't been too happy about that). Altair had tried to discover who it was that ordered the men following them after they'd left Acre, but it seemed someone had simply been suspicious of the couple leaving after dark, and it was soon forgotten under other things.

Thus, it was an uneventful day as Altair and Malik strode together through the fortress, towards Altair's now-office, once Al Mualim's.

"She punched him in the nose, Altair, and it's a miracle she didn't break it." Malik was saying, "Those woman's damned hormones are more unpredictable than a drunken mule."

Altair chuckled, "I doubt it's because of her hormones. She probably would have punched him even had she not been pregnant. She probably would have broken his nose had she not been."

"Really, brother, your taste in women…" Malik ground out, as they turned the corner, "Ah, speak of the devil."

Maria stood, browsing casually through one of Altair's books, a hand on her ever-expanding belly. Altair repressed a sigh – she was so beautiful.

"Maria!" Altair called, and she looked up, her expression softening at the sight of him. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to defend my case," She said, straightening, "Since I imagine no one else will." Her eyes flicked to Malik.

"Well then, I'll leave you to it." Malik replied, turning on his heel and practically running out of the room.

"Hmph. Coward." Maria snorted. She looked to Altair, who hadn't said anything. "What is it?"

"I don't believe I've ever seen you with your hair down." He commented, "It's lovely."

"Well, I would always wear it up so it wouldn't get in the way in a fight. Obviously that's unnecessary, now." She snapped, blushing faintly. "Anyways, that apprentice of yours was saying-"

"I know what he was saying." Altair said absently, running his fingers through her thick curls, "He would have been punished, anyways." He wrapped a hand around her waist, pushing her gently against the desk, burying his head in the crook of her neck,"Don't concern yourself with it."

"What do you think you're doing, you damn assassin?" She demanded. He merely smirked against the skin of her neck, gently nipping. "Stop it!"

"That's strange for you to say. You're the one who's been so amorous, recently."

"That's because of the damned hormones, you bloody assassin!" She demanded, though she did not resist as he pulled her closer.

"Are you sure it's not just because I'm always within arm's reach, now?" He chuckled.

"Don't flatter yourself! I-"

"Altair!"

Sputtering, she practically flung him away from her, as the novice burst into the room, entirely unaware of the scene he'd intruded upon.

"What is it?" Altair said blithely, eying Maria as she nervously tidied her hair.

"There's been a murder!" The novice cried breathlessly.

"What?" He had Altair's attention now, "Where? When?"

"One of the guards, out on patrol on the northern wall. Malik is there now, but he insists you come too!"

"Yes, of course." Altair said, frowning. "Go tell Malik I'll be right there."

The novice nodding, before turning and running out of the room, intent upon his errand.

Altair, still frowning, turned to Maria. "If you'll excuse me." He brushed his lips against her cheek, "We'll have to leave that for later."

"Fool assassin. Of course, off with you." She sighed, pushing him away. He smiled, but it faded quickly as he headed towards the scene. A murder in Masyaf… such a thing was practically unheard of, at least among the assassins.

Of course, he could not speak for the people of the town, but it was unthinkable that one had managed to sneak up on an assassin, much less one on guard. And an assassin murdering another… that was just impossible. They were brother's of the order, following the same cause, there was no one they could murder one another without a just reason – and as the de-facto leader, such a mark would have been decided by him.

"Altair." Malik called the other assassin over. "Sorry to interrupt whatever you were doing."

Altair raised an eyebrow, "How does it look?" He said, leaning over the corpse as it lay face-down in the grass, a dagger in its back.

"Not good. The body's cold, he's been dead for hours. Whoever did this is long gone. Not only that, but," Malik paused, lowering his voice, "The blade…"

"The blade?" Altair repeated.

"It's… a Templar blade."

Altair took a breath, sharply. A Templar, in Masyaf. This was inordinately bad.