Chapter Two: Work

(Five Years Later)

"You have grown, Altair," Al Mualim, spoke softly but proud. "You will move once again up in the ranks, and I shall grant you permission to hold one more piece of your equipment." He placed a short blade on the desk and Altair took it, holding it tightly in his hands.

It had been two weeks since Altair had been stripped from his rank. After assassinating, three of his targets, he seemed to be moving on quite faster than he himself might have expected.

"You have not yet redeemed yourself, however," the master spoke as if feeling Altair's relative relief. "You still have missions to complete. Against my calculations, there seems to be another man for you to deal with, one whom I have not mentioned before."

Surprised, Altair lifted his head and raised his voice: "A new one? I thought there were only nine!"

"I thought so too, Altair, I thought so too," His master's voice trailed off and turned into a silent whisper, as if concealing something from his pupil.

"But, it seems as if my knowledge was not as broad as I believed. Your new target will be, Shakir Bra'em. He is a merchant, like Tamir, and just as prosperous as well. Doubt me not, Altair, my sources are never wrong. This man is not an innocent, rest assured. Now go, to the city of Damascus. The bureau leader there will tell you what you need to know. Be safe, child."

Altair opened his mouth for he still felt like asking more about the new target and the sudden addition to his list of tasks. He closed it though, as soon as the thought crossed his mind. He knew not to push the master too much for it could get him in trouble – trouble which at the moment he did not need. He placed the blade in his back, adjusting the leather straps that secured it.

"As you wish, master," he said before exiting his study, though it was not unlikely, he would only leave by jumping over the ledge when something was bothering him. He landed very loudly on the stone floor, causing some heads to turn his way. Used to it, the guards just shrugged it off and they returned to their duty. He walked outside, though he was practically running, anxious and a tad concerned about his sudden assignment. He hopped onto the back of his beautiful black horse and, with a command of his voice it started galloping away, towards Damascus.

***

"Young mistress, wait!" She heard one of her chambermaids yell at her as she dashed away from the room. She was laughing, mostly out of the feeling running gave to her, but also due to the enjoyment she got from angering her maids. She ran through the halls, turning sharply in the corners and swinging from the occasional beams that might present themselves on her path. She ended, pretty quickly, in the flower garden she adored so much, especially in the times of summer. The water fountains that decorated the garden provided not only a beautiful sight, but a break to the long hours of almost unbearable heat.

"Young mistress!" she heard her chamber maid yell from the window above her. "You cannot go running around that way! What will your father say if he sees you? What will young Adnan say?"

"You know it matters to me not what they say, ma'am. They have stripped me of everything I cared about, running is all that I've got. I'm not giving that up, ma'am."

"Ladies have to be docile, Amira, that's why she reprimands you." She heard a voice call from behind, she turned around quickly to see her soon to be husband, Adnan, standing behind her. She let out a smile, before making her way towards him.

"How did you get here, Adnan?" She asked him, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"I ran," he said in a very light tone of voice.

"Do you see ma'am," she called out to her chambermaid who still stood by the window, "Master Adnan enjoys running as well." She let out a laugh before sticking her tongue out at her maid.

"But I am sure, mistress Amira that he is not running from his chores!" She said before slamming the window shut. Amira kept on laughing, now accompanied by her fiancée. She took a seat on the bench next to him, close, but not close enough to be reprimanded by her superiors afterwards.

"Why are you here, Adnan?" She asked him with a smile on her face.

"Your father sent me, Amira, there seems to be a problem."

"What is it?" she interrupted him abruptly. He sighed and got up from the shaded bench. As he stepped into the sun, his dirty blonde hair and green eyes became visible, shining brightly against the sunlight.

"It seems like he won't be able to make it home form Acre tomorrow. He says he will be here as soon as possible but you should not expect him before midweek. And I am afraid, I will have to take my leave to Acre as well, though I really do not want to, I have to support your father."

Amira sighed and threw her body across the bench, her eyes half shut due to the sun that was filtering from the holes between the trees' leaves. She was told before that her clothes were quite inappropriate for a lady and now she could tell why. Her tight clothes allowed her curves to be fully exposed especially when she lay down. Adnan eyed her, carefully, enjoying the sight.

"You are beautiful, Amira." He said softly, as he walked towards her. "Your name truly fits your looks, if only it would fit your behavior." He said, now jokingly. Amira started giggling again. He kneeled besides her and placed one of his arms on her waist; he stared at her in the eye and whispered. "I love you Amira." She was taken aback by such comment and tried to stand up, but she was pushed down by her fiancée. "You don't have to say a thing, Amira, as long as I love you, nothing else matters." He got up from his kneeling stance and pulled her up with him.

"Now, we do not want to make your chambermaid too mad, or do we?" He asked her. The faint blush her pale cheeks had grew deeper when she remembered she had escaped from her chores.

"Let's go," he commanded stretching his hand out for her to take. She gladly took it and walked with him towards the insides of her mansion. Her chambermaid had been spying at them from behind some bushes and stepped right out the moment he heard his suggestion.

"That's correct young master, Abnan, mistress Amira will return to her chores right away."

"I know that, gee," she said rolling her eyes. Abnan dropped her hand and started walking away, his usual smile still plastered on his face. He stopped in his tracks however, when he spotted the first blooming flower of the season. He bent to pick it up and once he held it in his hand yelled at Amira and her chambermaid to halt. Obediently, they both stopped and turned to look at the boy who walked towards them, holding the flower in his hand. He took one of Amira's hands and carefully placed it in her open palm.

"This is for you Amira Bra'em," he said with an unique charm that characterized him. She started blushing again, a bit more wildly than before.

"Thank you, Master Abnan," she said, her voice sounding girly for a change. She stared at him, right into his beautiful green eyes before turning around and walking away with her now exasperated maid.

"Kids these days," she muttered when they were far enough from each other.

"We are not kids anymore, ma'am, I am seventeen after all."

"Compared to me you are nothing but a child, now off to work!" She scolded causing Amira to laugh. She placed the flower in the pillar that stood in her chambers, the one that once held a brilliant pot she accidentally broke whilst running. Without further complain she stood across from her chambermaid and heard her rant about etiquette and manners, paying enough attention to save her skin from more scolding. Deep inside, however, she was doing but one thing, waiting for time to pass by so night could come her way.