Chapter Eleven: What?
"And do you expect me to just hand her over?" Aldrich asked him as he dismounted from his horse. "You know I cannot do that."
"Then you will leave me with no choice," Altair said, unsheathing his sword. A smirk appeared on the Lieutenant's face, drawing his sword as well. The men that were riding with them, the other guards, also dropped from their horses, pulling their weapons out. Aldrich's smile grew wider as he heard them approach. It was a smile of certain victory.
'Four against one is not fair,' Amira thought. She suddenly found herself in a situation she had never been before; she was worrying for the assassin. She quickly shrugged that thought off her head to allow a new one to cross by. If they are all going to start fighting, who will be looking out for her? It would be a wonderful chance for an escape, risky but wonderful. There was a small town close by; she could hide there for a while. 'And then?' she asked herself. And the worry started flowing again. She could not go back to Damascus, she was homeless. And so, another thought stopped by her head, if they were to just kill her, she would not have to worry about anything else. Her father was dead, her brother was dead and her best friend had gone missing. She was alone. Nobody would miss her and nobody would be bothered by her death. She would finally be able to join the people she loved – if the promises of the afterlife were true.
The sound of metal hitting metal woke her up from her little daydream though the sight she faced was not was she was expecting. She was expecting to see the guards, the knights, fighting the assassin but instead, they were being slaughtered by the lieutenant himself. 'What the hell?' she thought. She looked at the assassin, and she could tell that he was probably as surprised as she was. Just then she realized that doing such was going to remind him of her existence.
"No, not again," she whispered before she jumped off the cart. He sheathed his sword and started running towards her. Instinct kicking in again, she thought about running away, but as she started her run she felt something pulling her back.
"Oh, great," she said, when she noticed her long gown was stuck on one of the nails that held the cart's wooden boards together. She sighed and started pulling on the fabric, hoping it would let go of her. She was tugging with all her strength but it still seemed futile. In the battle of the dress and the female, the dress was surely winning. She sighed, exasperated, and gave one last tug to her clothes, hoping that she might at least, harm it a little bit. She closed her eyes and pulled this time managing to set herself free. Though, she had not done it by herself, it was in fact the assassin's blade what managed to free her. She looked up; she had stumbled backwards and landed on the floor, to see the assassin standing, intimidating, right in front of her. Her eyes widened in shock before yelling: "Behind you!"
Altair turned around moving his sword instinctively to protect himself from the blow the Lieutenant had aimed at him. Aldrich pulled his sword back and struck again, three consecutive hits. Altair was able to defend himself from the blows, but was unable to counterattack. The lieutenant started laughing, enjoying the fight with the assassin. He moved backwards, creating some space between them.
"I was just saving the best for last," he said, moving his sword teasingly, "Did you really think I'd forget you?" He did not wait for a reply and dashed towards Altair again. Altair jumped backwards, dodging the hit and leaving the lt., wide opened. He switched to offense and struck, two consecutive and very fast hits, both which were blocked. The lt., smiled and dodged backwards just like Altair had - a wonderful mimic he turned out to be. He ran towards Altair and grabbed him by the clothes at the front of his neck, smiling widely. Altair punched him once, but he did not let go of the grip. Blood had started to pour from his broken nose, when he ended up deciding to shove the assassin's body to where Amira was still sitting, eyes wide, contemplating the fight before her.
He landed next to her, trying not to hurt her with his blade. She quickly got up and kneeled besides the man.
"Are you okay?" she whispered, hesitating whether to touch him or not. He glanced in her direction but did not reply to her comment. He got back up to his feet, picking up his sword. The lieutenant was staring at him, like a jaguar stares at the innocent deer before digging its teeth in the prey's neck. His eyes were gleaming faintly, some kind of blood lust taking over his normally cool nature.
"Come on, don't disappoint me," he taunted, playing with his sword, hoping to get the assassin angry enough. He succeeded, faster than he had expected for Altair ran towards him as soon as he composed himself. He swung his blade at the lieutenant, but he dodged, and swiftly punched him in the stomach, causing him to fall to his knees.
"Is this all you can do?" Aldrich spoke again, his voice with the clear intent of mocking Altair who glared at him, infuriating. Aldrich chuckled, "By that look on your face I can tell that you are not use to losing," he stated. Altair got up and attempted to hit him again, but was again countered, kicked by the lieutenant. On the floor again, Altair looked up to check on the girl, who was staring at him, tears falling from her eyes. Aldrich noticed her as well and started laughing.
"Ah, so you saw it," he said, a smirk on his face, "How was it Willow? Was it painful or was it not?"
"It wasn't," she muttered under her breath. She knew what was to come was going to be quite painful, but what Aldrich did not know was that the assassin was not going to be the only one getting hurt.
Altair rose to his feet again, his temper getting the best of him, and ran at him again. His blows were stronger now, faster, still Aldrich did not seem the least troubled. He was toying with him, not bothering to attack seriously. He wanted to drive Altair to the limits of his composure. He swung his sword again but missed.
"Damn it," he said, his voice filled with anger.
The men were still fighting, Aldrich still holding the upper hand. Altair struck again just to get blocked, and he was now wide open. Aldrich took his chance and landed on swift cut on Altair's arm and he was about to execute the second blow when Amira decided to attempt a tackle on him causing him to lose his footing. He stumbled backwards a bit but quickly regained his balance. Even though she did not pin him to the ground, the chain mail armor was much too heavy for her to move, she did manage to stop him from slashing Altair in half.
"Why, you little –," he said, turning his attention from Altair to her. "This is not the way it is meant to happen," he complained. Amira stared at him, smirking.
"She had the power to change, didn't she?" she said, teasingly. It was like a little fire was ignited within her. Her desire of death had vanished, and she wanted nothing but to fight him. She wanted to fight him, until she made him bleed, and he could see that – her intent. He sighed before landing a punch on her face. She fell backwards, the strength of the man greater than her own, but she did not utter a sound of pain. Instead she got up her feet again, as quickly as she could. Her eyes, which normally were a very dark shade of brown, seemed to, for a moment, glow a light shade of blue. This time her smirk grew wider, as she taunted the lieutenant. "Careful behind you," she said when she noticed Altair was moving in on him. He turned his back to her quickly to defend himself from the other man whose strength he seemed to have underestimated. His hit this time was stronger than the last time, much stronger, almost impossible to block. He quickly lost his mocking attitude and it would seem that for the first time in the entire fight he was willing to fight seriously.
He tried to kick Altair, who easily dodged and countered with quite the stylish attack. The lieutenant shoved his blade between his body and Altair's sword, saving him from a nice stab wound in the chest.
"I don't have time for this," he said taking the sword with both his hands. He moved towards Altair and, drove the blade at him faster and stronger than he would ever expect, finally managing to land a significant hit on him. He had managed to cut his abdomen, though the armor he wore around it cushioned the blow, the cut was still very long and deep – very dangerous indeed. He fell to his knees, before he fell forward.
"Assassin!" Amira yelled, before running towards him. The blood was starting to flow once again, covering the dirty road with its crimson shade. The lieutenant, however, pulled her hair and shoved her again to the ground. This time, since the sudden rush of bloodlust had left her, a light scream of pain escaped her throat.
"Here I am, trying to protect you, and this is how you pay me by trying to save the assassin?" he asked her, his voice showing mild anger.
"You were going to take me to execution, how is that trying protect me?" She asked him in return. Her eyes were growing teary again, because in the end, even with her intervention the result had been the same.
"I never planned to take you there!" he yelled, "Why would a Templar be assigned to escort a prisoner from Saracen? For someone who was thought to be so bright, you really don't see things. Oh, dear but things sure have gotten bloody now."
"That is not my fault," she replied, sounding like a stubborn child as she was reprimanded.
"I never said it was, if anyone should be to blame it should be him," he pointed at Altair, who lay motionless on the floor. "Their desire to kill is much greater than anything in their lives, even greater than their desire for peace."
"Not all of them are like that," Amira whispered, though he still managed to hear what she had spoken.
"Don't go thinking your brother was a saint. He was the one who had your master killed. Anyways, I can't take you with me anymore since, I presume, you don't want to leave the assassin here to die." He sighed and dug his hand into one of the compartments their armor had, pulling out a small bag. He tossed it at her, and by the jingling sound it made, she quickly realized that it was filled with gold.
"Take this. There is a small town nearby; though I am sure you knew that by now. I am sure it will suffice to cover your needs." He said, finally sheathing his sword. "If you plan on taking him with you, I advise you to hurry guards will start their patrols in about two hours."
"Thank you," Amira spoke, her voice soft and fragile like Aldrich always thought a girl's voice should be. He smiled at her, a very sweet and comforting smile, kneeling down to her. He placed his hands on her cheeks and whispered: "For you, Willow, anything." Amira blushed slightly, right before he decided to press his lips against hers, softly. She felt the blood rising to her cheeks, causing her to feel a little extra hot. He smirked, pulling himself away from her.
"I'll be back before you know it," he said, as he mounted one of the two horses that had remained in the place during their fight. He winked at her before hitting the horse with the reigns, causing it to move forward, pulling the cart along with him. The other horse simply stayed there, looking at her as if awaiting orders. She sighed, her face still pink. Now that the lieutenant was gone, she had a very big and bloody problem to deal with. She had to find a way to move the assassin, with her, towards the village to the east of where she was. It was only a good two hundred meters away, she could see the houses and the lights, she could easily get there on her own. But how the hell would she carry the assassin to that place? She could be able to move him, even if she tried.
'Now I am screwed,' she said when the pessimism started to flow in her veins yet again. Tears were falling from her eyes again, quietly creeping down her cheeks. The same feeling of helplessness was overpowering her, rendering her unable to move. Bound to the ground with the weight of guilt and sorrow, she could do nothing but weep. Or so she thought, but, as if an angel had heard her cries from the heavens a couple of young men were approaching her. They had come from behind her, each one carrying an oil lantern with them.
"Do you need help, young lady?" one of them asked. Amira looked at him, smiling with relief and wiped the tears of her face.
"I was on my way to Jerusalem when a group of thieves attacked me and my escort," she said trying to sound as convincing as possible. "They killed the guards and they hurt my bodyguard really badly. I was lucky to stay alive. I would really appreciate it if I could reach the village east from here, before they decide to return for me."
"Sure thing," the other one replied. "For a girl as pretty as you, we'd do anything."