Chapter Four: Woman
Altair had found the house the rafiq described in no time. It was one of the biggest houses in the district and its gardens were definitely the most prominent. He sneaked in the house, as swiftly and silently as he was used to. The insides were very different, he presumed, for all the other manors, the walls were simple and plain, yet the size of the rooms was greater than the average person's room. The halls were darkened by the dark that had settled in, though it was quickly being lift, for the dawn was approaching in the horizon. He had few minutes to break into his room, before the sun lit the entire house, waking all the household members.
The room he thought would belong to the man he had to assassinate, was not hard to spot. It was bigger than all the other rooms, and the entire ambiance changed as he approached the room. Everything became brighter, more luxurious and enticing. He opened the door, quietly, and stepped inside. He soon found himself standing in a majestic bedroom. A large bed stood in the very middle of it, and in the bed, a lonely figure could be seen sleeping under the sheets. Altair pulled out his blade, thinking about striking as he slept, but he pulled it back in when he realized he had much to ask such a man.
He approached the bed, slowly, and jumped into it, hastily. The figure which had been sleeping relatively calmly under the sheets suddenly awoke when it felt the shift in weight. As it struggled to pull itself up, Altair grabbed its throat and slammed it against the bed. With his free hand he pulled the sheet off its face to begin the interrogation. Instead of encountering the eyes and face of an old, corrupt man, Altair found himself staring at a pair of very dark, very feminine, very scared eyes.
"A woman?!" he exclaimed, letting go of his grip around her neck. She gasped for air, in an effort to regain the consciousness she had begun to lose. As her breathing stabilized she glared up to see the same figure that she had seen, leaning over her master's dead body.
"Assassin," she muttered, before trying to push him off the bed. He grabbed her hands and wrestled her to the ground, both of them falling, making a sound louder than Altair wanted.
"Why are you here, woman?" He demanded, his body over hers, one of his arms holding her arms tightly over her head and his blade hand holding the hidden blade against her neck.
"I believe you should answer that question first, assassin," she said, practically ignoring the fact that he could easily take her life.
"How do you know I am an assassin? Are you a templar too?" Altair asked her, slightly piercing her flesh with his blade.
"Why, you don't remember me? We have met already, assassin, you murdered my master, five years ago. And now it seems you've come to take my life." She replied, her voice breaking off slightly at the last words.
"Amira! Mistress Amira! Open up!" the servants were screaming on the other side of the door. It was because of Altair that they could not enter for he had locked the door, but it was also his fault that they were found for he had been just too loud.
The knocking did not stop, as Altair tried to remember the face of the girl he had pinned down to the ground. It did not take long though, for the few instances in which he had encountered a woman they were either hookers or lovers. Only one time did he stumble upon a little girl to witness his kill, only one time did he stumble on a girl at a scholar's temple.
"You were Jamil's student, that's right. And, now you are Shakir's lover." Altair stated, eyeing her from head to toe. The girl he had mistaken for a boy surprisingly looked like a lady.
"I am not his lover! He is my father!" She yelled, insulted, trying to break his gaze from her.
"Oh, well, where is he?" He asked her. The knocking on the door increased and soon enough the servants had been joined by a group of guards who were attempting to bring the door down. The morning sun was beginning to rise and given the many windows the house was characterized with, the light was being filtered in. It was with the soft sunlight caressing her pale skin that Altair was truly able to recognize the girl. Besides the additional curves in her body not much had changed. Her hair remained dark and wavy though her eyes, which he thought were too dark of a shade of brown, looked nice and bright under the sun.
"Do you think I am going to tell you?" Amira said, her voice filled with spite. "You are going to kill him aren't you? Well what did he do now?"
"Just tell me where your father is, woman!" Altair yelled again, but before he could obtain an answer, or well, keep on asking for on, the doors to the chambers flew open. The guards had been able to break the lock. Altair hid his blade but he did not move from the position in which he was. Amira turned to look at the men, who were standing with their swords out.
"Mistress Amira, what is this?!" her chambermaid yelled, outraged. Amira opened her mouth to explain but shut it right back. She glared at Altair who in turn shot a smirk her way, apparently enjoying the assumptions her maids were making.
"Wait a minute," said one of the guards. "You are that girl that was found at the temple when the scholar Jamil was murdered." He said pointing at Amira who bit her lip in return. "And you," he started once again, pointing at Altair, "you are an assassin!"
"Uh, no," Altair muttered before letting go of Amira's grip and dashing out through the door that led to the upper balconies. Just as the guards were about to chase him, the man that had discovered her took one more look at her. "She's with him, she is with the assassin." He said, a wide grin printed on her face.
"Wait, no, I am not." Amira tried to justify herself, though they did not seem to listen. She got up to her feet as fast as she could and turned to look at her maids who were just as shocked as she was.
"If we catch her, we might get the assassin as well," the guard issued before commanding, "seize her!" The guards drew their swords and ran towards her. With utter shock in her eyes, Amira did what her instinct told her to: run. She did not hesitate on it, like anybody being chased by a bunch of armed men would. She started running towards the door Altair had used to escape.
She ran up the stairs into the balconies as fast as she could. As she arrived at the roof she caught a glimpse of the direction Altair took. He seemed to have jumped off, landing on her chamber's garden. Following his lead, she did the same thing, though she was too sure she would be able to pull it off without getting hurts. The guards who were still approaching her seemed to be getting a tad closer, though not close enough to see her; after all, she was quite the good runner.
She jumped off the edge and landed, a tad less roughly than she expected, twisting her right ankle mildly, for she had landed on her feet. She ran inside and was again able to see Altair running through her halls. She thought on following him, but, since she knew the place better, she took the shortcut she used to escape from her maids. She went back outside into the balcony and again, jumped off the ledge, though this time the fall was softer. She started running through the gardens, getting her skin slashed by the many thorns of the rose shrubs. It was worth it she assured herself, for it would keep the guards from knowing where she is.
She crossed the path of flowers until she reached the outside of her manor, just in time to see Altair exiting through the kitchen's door. Acting out of instinct again, Amira yelled at him: "Assassin, wait" alerting all the guards around them that there was trouble nearby. Realizing her mistake she started running once again, after the man in the white cloak. He was faster than her, though the distance between them was not long enough to make her lose sight of him. Though now, the guards had resumed their pursuit with additions to their units.
She ran behind him, trying to catch up, though, just like that time she ran from the temple, the sun was getting to her, making her breathing harder and harder as every second flew by. 'How can he keep up such a speed?' she asked herself, unwilling to give up the chase. They kept on running downhill, towards the middle district of Damascus, a place that Amira had rarely visited. It was more crowded than the Rich District and as such losing the guards seemed like an easy enough task. What she did not know however was that there were many more guards on such district. The number of soldiers that were lost in the crowd could not compare to the greater amount of soldiers being added after each corner was crossed. Giving up on her goal to reach Altair, she made a corner different to him, in a attempt to lose the soldiers. But, the turn was sharper than she had expected causing her to lose her footing. She fell to the dirty ground, worsening the sprain on her right foot. She screamed in pain and tried to get up but she failed, for the pain on her foot would not allow her too. She tried dragging herself forwards as she heard the footsteps of the soldiers, fearing death for the first time in her life.
The guards were soon standing behind her bleeding body, their swords unsheathed and their mood definitely not good. One of them took a step towards her and, with one of his hands pulled her to her feet, causing her to grimace due to her injured foot.
"Looks like we caught you," he said teasingly, trying to keep her in a standing position.
"I wonder if your assassin friend will come and save you," another one of them said. The one that was holding her raised his free hand; a gesture that indicated them to put away their swords. Her eyes were staring into his, not showing the fear that ran through her body. He smirked at her and threw her towards the guards.
"Take her to prison," he ordered. "Killing her here would not be as fun as having her executed in public, right woman?" He had another mocking smile on his face as he walked past her body. One of his subordinated picked her up and carried her in his arms.
"Don't worry, girly," he whispered at her. "We will treat you as gently as we possibly can."
Amira flinched. Her face was red with anger and exhaustion, her mind flooded with pictures from five years ago and her heart aching with guilt and fear. She glanced around, looking carefully at the buildings as they had soon started to become blurry. She realized, as everything became covered by a low mist, that when the guard slammed her against the floor, she had somehow hit her head. She could feel the blood descending through her body but she felt no pain. She was focusing on trying to stay conscious, though she could not keep her efforts up for longer than a minute. Her eyes soon started to close, but right before they did she thought she had seen the culprit of her problem. For a split second she thought she had seen the assassin standing on a rooftop looking down on her. She snickered at the thought and quickly shrugged it off. 'Man, my luck today has just been great,' she thought before her eyes were forced shut. "Assassin," she said in a whisper that was barely audible before she passed out completely.