A pounding pain in her head awoke Amira the following morning. Her back was aching and her legs were aching, pain which she attributed to the previous journey. It was bright and sunny outside, about four hours after sunrise. The heat had risen as well, but she was expecting that much. She got up to her feet, staggering slightly due to the pain in her head. There was no one around her. The assassin seemed to have left, which left her all alone with Malik again. 'That isn't too bad,' she told herself as she stretched. A smile got pinned on her face when she remembered how much fun she had had with that man the day before. Staying in that room with him for another day might not be too bad.
"Good morning," she greeted as she stepped inside the bureau. As if he had nothing else to do, Malik was bent on the desk, still working on his map of Jerusalem. He raised his head to look at her and placed his utensils down.
"Good morning, lady Amira. I believe you had a good sleep?" he said politely, though he knew by the look in her face that she had a rough night.
"On the contrary, sleep is not as pleasant as it used to be anymore?" she replied and he chuckled, picking his utensils up once again.
"There's some bread and fruits in the basket on the table," he pointed at it and she turned her head. She hadn't had much to eat lately and her body seemed to be getting used to it, as unhealthy as it may be, for it did not complain of hunger. She took a fruit in her hand, a rather small one at that, and sat down in the same chair she had used the day before.
"Say, Rafiq, is there a market nearby?" she asked him out mere curiosity. Her dreams, as crazy as they may be, had a thing for being slightly related to actual events. The thought of her brother being alive was very different from what she would've thought. It was a miracle, certainly, yet she did not feel one bit grateful. He could not be alive; two men had already told her that he was dead. If he was alive, hypothetically speaking of course, he would've have tried to contact her. He would've written a reply to her letter. But, maybe they only wanted to fake his death. If that was the case he would not be in Jerusalem at the moment. What could a man they tried to pass off as dead be doing there? Well, many reasons there could be, but if she went on thinking about everything that could be her head was going to explode.
"There is one close, actually. Why do you ask?" Malik said, though he still refused to stop working. She had hindered his progress a lot the day before, it was only understandable that he was focusing on work rather than her.
"He's a very proud man, so I am sure he has not told you but he's actually hurt. It's not that bad of a wound, but it still needs to be treated. I was thinking about buying some bandages –,"
"I have enough supplies to tend for whatever wound he might have." Malik interrupted. Amira sighed, she really did want to go outside.
"Then can I go get some clothes?" she asked innocently. "The ones I wore during the journey are much too uncomfortable and this seems to be too…attention grabbing."
"I can arrange for that as well," Malik said to Amira's frustration.
"Please, let me go outside," she begged. Malik stared at her for a while trying to read her expression, to try and read why her sudden interest in leaving had arisen.
"What guarantees your return?" he asked dubious.
"I know not a thing about this place, rafiq, running away would by no means be favorable. I am not that stupid." She reassured him, meaning every word. She knew no one in that place, and she knew not the city. She had enough money to live for a while but that is if thieves or even the guards didn't make off with her.
"Well, fine," Malik accepted to her surprise, "but I need you to get back here before Altair returns or he'll be mad beyond measure." Amira nodded and ran to the place where she had come from. She only needed to climb the wall and then somehow get off the roof and she would be ready to go. Suddenly, it did not seem like so easy a task. She took in a deep breath, and started her way up as gracefully as she could though she could not help but hesitate before taking every next step. She reached the rooftop, to meet an even stronger and brighter sun that what she had been used to in the bureau. It was as she scanned the rooftops around that she realized that such city was not much different from her hometown – filled with passersby and merchants on the streets, it was as busy as Damascus.
She was about to jump from the rooftop, even though she had realized that it was much too tall for her to land injury-free, when she noticed that some of the people on the streets below were staring up at her. Trying to act naturally she stepped towards the ledge, when one little boy from the crowd bothered to yell at her: "there's a ladder, lady, on the other side." She stepped back, with a shameful look on her face and walked to where she assumed the ladder would be. She climbed down and the curious who had stopped resumed their way except for the little boy.
"You could've have gotten hurt if you jumped," he said to her, looking at her with a hint of humor.
"No – maybe – but it wouldn't have been that bad." She snapped at him and started walking away. She had to find a market and she knew not where to even begin to look. She should've asked him for directions or to tag along with her as implausible as that may be.
"Why were you up there, anyway?" the boy inquired. He was following her, to her surprise.
"I was looking for something," she said absentmindedly. She needed to find her way but by then it was too late to go and ask for directions. She had to do it on her own.
"What could you be looking for up there? And why are you wearing such indecent clothes?" the boy pressed and Amira suddenly stopped, and turned to face the child. He was probably around ten or eleven years of age, though he was slightly taller for his age. His eyes were honey brown and his hair black and messy.
"Do you know where the market is – the closest one to this place?" she asked him. If she was lucky, she could've just found herself a tour guide. Te boy nodded and pointed straight ahead of them. It seemed that she wasn't taking the wrong way, after all. She quickened her pace, she would know how to return, she was sure of that and she had to get there before Altair, his time of arrival unknown to her.
"Hey, wait up," the boy yelled, urged to catch up with her once again. "Why do you need to go to the market? Why are you wearing that? How come you don't know where it is?"
"Do you have to follow me?!" she yelled at him, angered by his unnecessary questions.
"I helped you out, it's only fair if you help me out. Don't you think?" Amira sighed when she saw his innocent boy expression.
"How can I help you?" she asked with a mocking tone of voice. The little boy shrugged, not even he was sure of what to ask her. "Okay, I'll buy something for you in the market, just keep silent." She said to him and he nodded. He started walking ahead of her, leading the way, and she followed. She was carrying some of the coins that the lieutenant had handed her, enough to buy what she needed to treat the assassin's wounds and buy a random thing to her little puppy dog.
They walked for minutes only, before they reached the market area of Jerusalem. It was, as anyone would've expected, crowded and loud with people gathering around the different stalls purchasing goods or arguing about their price. 'I have the best prices in the city' she heard one merchant yelled as they passed close to his tent which was pretty crowded. 'I have everything you might need,' another one yelled in the distance. The boy was following her carefully, occasionally shooting glances at the things being displayed.
"Go find something you might like," Amira said slipping a coin in the boy's hand. When he felt the cold metal on his skin he let out a smile on his face and ran to one of the many stalls – he seemed to have decided what he wanted really quickly. She smiled, amused by the kid, and started wandering on her own. There were many things plastered on the stands, none which caught her eye for they were focused looking for something – someone – else.
It was stupid of her to believe that only because a random voice in her dreams told her that her brother was alive then it had to be true. Oh, how pathetic of her to bother. She should've stayed in the bureau, talking and drawing maps but instead, she was in the middle of the most crowded place looking for a ghost.
"What are you getting, lady?" the boy asked her when he noticed she was not looking at the goods being offered.
"Oh, just stuff, anything really, can you suggest a place for me?" The boy nodded and pulled her towards one of the farthest stands. It wasn't as crowded as the other ones, for the only thing that vendor was offering was some fancy clothing and jewelry – the kind that subtly reminded her of her life at Damascus. She stared at the goods not bothering to look at the man offering them.
"Imad, what are you doing here kid?" the vendor spoke to the kid with clear familiarity, ignoring Amira.
"This young lady here wants to buy something, I thought you could help." He explained with his childish voice. The man laughed before taking a look at her in her 'indecent' clothing, making her again feel uncomfortable.
"Are you hurt, young lady?" he asked her, and she turned to look at him.
Her face upon meeting face showed nothing but utter shock. The eyes, staring back at her, were the exact same eyes her brother had – dark and warm. His hair was longer than her brother's had been, and his facial features were not exactly the same, but there was an awful resemblance between him and her brother.
"You okay, it looks like you've seen a ghost," he remarked with a smirk.
"Oh, it's nothing," Amira said, trying to sound as calm as possible. "I'm not hurt; my clothes are just ragged because I like them this way." The vendor laughed and shook his head when he heard her weird excuse.
"Well, I think I have something you might like," he said and winked at her. He pulled from one of his stacks of clothing a silky, black Adaya with fine embroidery. Amira smiled slightly and took it into her hand, surprised by how all the feelings she would have expected to flow into her had remained bottled up. He may look like her dear brother, but that did not mean he was.
"I think it would suit you just fine," the man added when he noticed the very dark color of her eyes.
"Have I seen you somewhere before?" he asked her as she examined the piece of clothes in her hands.
"No, sir, I don't think so. But, you too, look very familiar." She agreed, though she did not mention that he was almost identical to her dead brother. Even their voices, even though she had not heard her brother's voice in years, were the same.
"Anything you would like?" Amira asked the boy as she handed him the piece of clothing. As much as she would like to buy fancy clothes, it was definitely not the time to be thinking about such things. The boy started going through the things in display, while the vendor's eyes started going through Amira's body as if it was on display. She really was starting to feel uncomfortable, but she would not let it show – again, that was her own fault. Besides, there were more important things on her head at that moment.
Her dreams, as implausible as it may sound, seemed to be somehow connected to things that actually happened – like the death of her brother and the wound on Altair's body. And, the few times she's experienced her prophetic dreams, the things she'd seen had a tendency of being true. So, why would she suddenly see, or in that case hear, news of her brother being alive when the man standing in front of him wasn't. Did she make a mistake? If so, how can she tell when they are true or not? And that's where she found herself struggling, trying to choose whether that was convenient or not. If her divination skills where not one hundred percent accurate then the visions of her death might just be a mistake as well. And that horrible scene of the assassin and that woman, that could be a mistake as well. But she knew better than anybody that holding on to hope in such circumstances was only more painful than giving up.
"Can I take this young lady?" the boy asked Amira tugging on her dress. She turned to look at him and the item he was holding. It was a pretty and delicate bracelet, a fine piece of jewelry if she might add.
"I know it may be a little expensive, but my mother has wanted a bracelet like this for some time now and I wanted to –,"
"It's fine," Amira interrupted him with a smile. The words mother and bracelet were enough to convince her. Her mother was very fond of jewelry, her own personal collection being worth more than any person could guess. And so she wondered, just what might've happened to the things that her mother owned. Did the guards break in and steal everything? Who were they give to? Where they going to care for them as much as mother did? It was at times like that, when she really missed her mother.
"You are quite the generous person," the vendor told Amira with an estranged smile on his face. She just nodded courteously and handed him the amount he had agreed with the boy. It was quite the pricey piece of jewelry but in the end, it was not her treat but rather the lieutenant's. The boy's face was completely lit up as he held the shiny string of metal in his hands, thinking about his mother's reaction when he saw him hand her such a precious gift.
"Aren't you buying anything for yourself, young lady?" the boy asked Amira and she shook her head.
"No, I was just looking for something. But, I guess I couldn't find it." Amira explained, again deciding not to mention that she was looking for a ghost. The vendor – whose resemblance to her brother seemed to grow by the minute – smiled at her, accentuating their similarities. Though she thought it would not hit her, the feeling of loss that she had to deal with when she was a kid was resurfacing for she had, stupidly, held the hope that she would meet her brother.
"It's a shame you did not find what you needed, young girl. But I am sure that with time you will." The vendor tried to reassure her and Amira replied with a smile. 'What I have lost, I will never find again,' she thought.
"Let's go then boy," she tapped the boy's shoulder to move. She could not stay in that place one more second for she was going to snap and like her maids would remind her, there is nothing more shameful than a woman breaking down. Of course there are things that are much more shameful, she would think as she was lectured, nodding courteously at the maids. But, they were right about that one thing. People shouldn't break down and let their weaknesses be exposed, not in private and much less in public. Which reminded her, she had already done so twice in front of the assassin.
"See you later, Imad," the man said to the boy as he was about to leave. Amira curtsied at him and smiled, thanking him for his assistance through that gesture alone. The boy waved less graciously and started to follow Amira though he should be the one to lead.
"See you later, Ahmed," the boy replied glancing back at the stall, making Amira stop cold on the spot. She turned to look at the man, her face now pale and her eyes on the verge of tears. She took a deep breath to try and regain her slipping composure and decided to address the man.
"Excuse me, what is your name, again?" she asked him, trying to disguise her true feelings.
"I am Ahmed, young lady. What about you?" he asked in return.
"Amira," she replied quietly. The man smiled at her and nodded.
"I'll make sure I don't forget," he said. And with that Amira turned away and finally started getting away from such a place. His face, when he said his name showed no feeling whatsoever. To him it was just the name of a random customer and nothing more. It wasn't her brother, no matter how many similarities they shared. That man was not her brother, so why did she dream such a thing? Was she really that big of a masochist that she would tell herself such a terrible thing? Was she really stupid enough to believe it?
The boy who had noticed her sudden changed in mood looked at her concerned. But a smile she sent his way when she noticed his little eyes staring at her, made him desist on the idea of asking. He was not told, but he knew that he was to take her to the place where he had found her, whatever that place may be to her. He would have liked to ask though he knew it would have been futile. Still curiosity was not leaving his system it was only metastasizing, becoming more aggressive and invasive as they walked in silence.
"Hey, lady," he finally spoke, as he played with the bracelet in his hand. "You have a pretty name." Amira started laughing at the comment, it was definitely the first time she had heard such a thing. The girls she knew thought it was a pretentious name, for its meaning was 'princess', and so they'd never say one nice thing about it.
"Thank you, Imad," she replied, trying to realize why the boy had said such a thing. The boy smiled at her and kept on tossing his bracelet into the air, as if it was a toy ball. Amira thought about reprimanding him, but she figured he did not need such a thing. He would not jeopardize the well being of something precious to him … or, would he? As if to answer her question the boy failed to catch the bracelet as it headed to the ground and it ended up in the dusty floor. The boy laughed at his clumsiness and bent down to pick it up from the ground. As he gained an upright position again, he heard noticed a shadow leaning over him which me immediately realized meant no good.
The sound of angry footsteps was the only warning the guard had of what was approaching. Without knocking, his office door flew open and a man stepped inside, his face raging. The guard tried to get up, to try and show dominance, but the moment he got to his feet the uninvited guest managed to land quite the powerful punch in his jaw. The guard stumbled backwards, hitting the wall behind him. He urged himself to not let the hit affect his consciousness for he could not allow a stranger to beat him up in his own office. Before he managed to land a punch on the stranger, the man threw himself towards him and pinned him against the wall, holding him down by his shirt.
"How much did they pay you, you miserable guard?" the man asked him, his voice showing just how mad he was at that point. "How much?!"
"I don't know what you are talking about," the guard said pushing him away from him. "Who the hell do you think you are, storming into this place like if it was your little palace?"
"You sold her to someone, who did you sell her to?" the man insisted to the guard's frustrations.
"I told you, I do not know what you are talking about." The guard replied, trying to act nonchalant. He drove his hand to his jaw, to check if there was any blood pouring from it. Lucky for him and his ego, there was no cut though it was sure to leave quite the nice bruise.
"You damn well know what I am talking about!" The man yelled, containing himself from punching the guard one more time. He was lucky as well, that the man in front of him was too big a coward to call for some support. The guard knew that if it was his word against his, he would not be believed. "It took me five days to go and come from Acre there is no way you could've gotten note of her father's death in only one night. And her father is alive, for heaven's sake, I saw him myself."
"Look, young man, the only reason why I have not called the guards on you is because of who your father is. Now, save us both some trouble and leave, before things get worse. I am sure your servants are worried, master Adnan." The guard tried to explain himself, in an attempt to make the man see that there was no reason to worsen the situation. 'But the situation was as bad as could be thought Adnan as he remembered the incidents of days prior.
"If you fear my father's power so badly, then why do you refuse to cooperate with me? One word of mine and I could have him destroy everything dear to you." Adnan spoke but the guard did not reply. He simply stare down, at the floor beneath them, deep in thought as he heard the boy speak.
"Could it be that you are more afraid of them than you are of us?" Again, there was no reply but silence was enough of an answer.
"Who did you sell her to?" Adnan ask, his voice suddenly dropping the anger and acquiring a more business like façade. "What does the life of your family cost – twice as much as what they paid, thrice as much? If you can fall low enough to make agreements with them, then you sure can fall even lower and betray them. Name the price of your pride as a guard of Damascus, if you have any left."
"I won't let a brat like you speak to me like that!" the guard yelled but Adnan did not back down. He started walking towards him, as to have him pinned against the wall again.
"You really have no choice. If you do not cooperate with me, then I will report to my father right away."
"He will not care about me selling your little fiancée and you know that," the guard said, trying to sound defiant.
"You are right," Adnan admitted. "He will not care about the fact that my fiancée got sold to the enemy. He is going to care about the fact that his guards are making clandestine deals with them! It's treason! And you should know what happens to those who are convicted of such a thing. So tell me, who did you sell her to?"
"I think you might already know the answer to that, young master," the guard said, his voice shaky. Adnan sighed, frustrated. There were two possible culprits in his mind: the idealistic idiots - as he lovingly called the assassin's - and the Knights Templar - who, though Adnan was not sure why, Amira's father blamed for her situation. It would be impossibly hard to track down the latter. With their member count exceeding one thousand men, pinpointing the one responsible would be harder. Deep inside he was hoping that it was the assassins were holding his fiancé hostage for at least he knew their location. He'd had an unofficial spy providing him with enough information about their whereabouts.
"Did he say about where they were going?" he asked the guard though his voice was calmer than before. The guard shook his head and he sighed trying to figure out what to do.
"Don't tell anybody else about our encounter. You will receive your payment tomorrow." Adnan said as he exited the room. He ran down the steps and out the fort as fast as he could for he still had one more place to visit.
"What have you got there kid?" one of the guards of Jerusalem asked Imad as he got up with the bracelet in his hand. They had long abandoned the crowded area of the market, and the place where they had stopped was quite desolate. They were standing merely twenty meters away from the bureau, a fact which proved Amira that she really was a magnet for trouble.
"I bought it sir," the boy said politely, trying to place as much distance between him and the officer as possible. He was not hiding how intimidated he felt and Amira was starting to share part of his concern.
"How can a little rat like you afford such a thing?" the guard pressed. The boy looked like the average boy, not like the kind who would be carrying fancy pieces of jewelry around.
"I paid for it," Amira intervened, hoping he would believe her although her looks and the child's were not much different. "He helped me out and I treated him to a present. He happened to chose that."
"And how did you afford such a thing, lady?" he was getting closer to her than he was to boy, which was relieving given that there was some kind of altercation he would be able to get away.
"My father is a very prodigious merchant," she said, "I can afford things tens of times more expensive that such a miserable bracelet." The guard smirked and proceeded to give her the visual examination every man she had encountered had done - though his eyes were much different, much more lustful. It was then that she realized that Malik's stare was rather innocent.
"Do you really think I would believe such a thing?" the guard taunted her and moved forward, like a hunter nearing his prey. It was definitely a different from what the other men had bore, much more frightening. Amira threw a glance at the boy – one which said: "If he tries anything, you run." He did not seem like the type to abandon someone, but he would stand no chance against him and frankly, neither would her.
"Whether you believe me or not sir, that is not my fault. I know I did not steal that bracelet and I know the boy didn't steal it either." Amira said confidently.
"Well then, let's make a deal," the guard proposed, "I will let you and boy leave unharmed if you give me something in return." It was the way he said such a thing what made Amira nervous. She would be willing to pay him off like she had done with the guards at the entrance, but he did not seem to want any money.
"That would depend on what you want for me to give you, sir," Amira replied and the man chuckled. The moved his right hand to graze her arm. He was staring at her fiercely in the eye, not bothering to hide the desire that was boiling in him.
"I'm sorry sir," she said as he tried to move his hand to her face, "but that is something I am not willing to offer." Again, a smirk was pressed on his face and with no concern over her being a girl, he shoved her against the wall. He had both his hands wrapped around her neck, tightly, though not tight enough to suffocate her.
"It's not like you have a choice deary," he said in an incredibly threatening tone. Though Amira did not seem intimidated one bit, she was hating him so much at that moment.
The boy, whom the guard had removed from his mind, did not like his tone either. In an attempt at help, he decided to throw a stone he picked from the dusty ground at the guard. He was still a child and so the hit was not as strong as he would have wanted, as it was needed.
The guard turned immediately to face the kid whose eyes were fixed on Amira. "Run," she mouthed and the boy hesitated, too scared to move. Amira, who was not going to stand and watch a little boy get slaughtered, decided to try something as well. She bent down to pick up some of the soil from the ground and held it tightly in her palm. She walked towards the guard and tapped his back, causing him to turn. As he faced her, she released all the sand she had collected into his eyes, blinding him momentarily. With her other hand, she did something she would have never find herself possible of doing. It was a sloppy uppercut to the man's chin, which, although it was not strong enough to make him pass out, it was good enough to stun him momentarily. She noticed her hand briefly, as she felt a sharp wave of pain travel through it stopping at her wrist. There was blood on her knuckles showing that not only did she hit him hard enough, she was not used to hitting people.
Amira pushed him to the ground, mustering all her strength and then ran towards the frozen boy, taking his hand and pulling him with her. She had to get away from that place before the guard gave the order of pursue.
"Come back, you whore!" she heard the guard scream and she accelerated her run, fearing the boy would not be able to keep up. It was as she approached the bureau that she realized she could not go there with the kid and with a guard trailing her, so she ended up changing directions merely feet away from her safe place.
The place she had chosen as a hiding spot was not the most preferable one. Sure, it was a good place to hide, but if they were to be found there would be no place to run. Amira took a glance at the boy, who still seemed to be shaken by what had happened and was showing it in his face.
"Calm down," Amira said trying to sound reassuring. They boy was panting, trying to catch his breath and hoping the guard would've lost them by then. It was the footsteps on the outside what made him lose all hope.
"Listen," Amira said, looking at the boy straight into his honey brown eyes. "I'm faster than you are and I have more stamina. I'm going to go out there and try to get him as far away from this place as possible. When he's gone, I want you to get home as fast as you can, okay? It was really pleasant meeting you, but now I must leave. Good luck, kid." She had started to walk away when the boy ran and tugged on her hand.
"But if he catches up to you –," he protested though Amira did not let him finish the sentence.
"Trust me, I can outrun him." She said and winked. She took in a deep breath and stepped outside, a couple of meters ahead from where the guard was looking for her. He seemed beyond irritated like any man with a broken ego would be.
"Looking for someone?" Amira said teasingly and upon hearing his voice the guard avalanched towards her. She started to run, fast enough to keep him in at a safe distance though she knew she could not play cops and robbers forever. She needed to get back to the bureau fast, because if she failed to meet her curfew… well the assassin was far scarier than the petty guard.
Right ahead of her laid what she thought would be the solution to her problem. She might not be the most agile person in the world, but after her hopping lessons with Altair, running through the rooftops might no longer be as annoyingly hard as it was before. She ran to the ladder, but as she was climbing the guard managed to catch her and pull her back down to the ground.
"You think you can mock me, woman?" he yelled at her. "You think you can outrun me?"
"I honestly thought I could," Amira replied, with a taunting smile on her face. She was trying to figure out a way out of her little problem. She was starting to think that playing the hero was not the smartest thing to do when your only superpower is running away.
"You conceited little," the man could not finish a sentence due to his increasing anger. He was approaching her again, as he did before, like if he was about to ravage her. She kept pacing backwards, a part of her was doing so to tease him while the other part was just trying to see what she could do. Unluckily for her, she quickly hit a wall, and found herself once again cornered by the same man.
"I am going to kill –," he threatened but before he could finish his sentence he was interrupted by a divine gift from heaven. From the feeling above them, the body of one of the archer's was dropped in to the gap where they currently inhabited. Amira jumped sideways to her left, to avoid being hit by the corpse but she did not show one hint of surprise. They both did look up, simultaneously, but there was nothing there.
'Oh, no,' Amira though as she remembered that she had to get herself back to the bureau before him. The guard, completely forgetting about Amira's existence ran to the street to try and see if there was anybody in the rooftops above them. But it seemed that besides him and the girl, no one else had noticed what had just happened. Amira, taking the guard's confusion to her advantage, walked over to the bleeding body, in the search for something to attack with. Even though she could not handle weapons, she was sure she'd at least be able to blindly attack. The man, to her misfortune, was carrying no weapons other than a bow and a couple of arrows – the last thing Amira wanted to encounter. But, given her situation it might be the least she could do.
She picked the wooden bow and the arrows and held it in her hands confusingly. She knew nothing about posture or aim, but anything was worth the shot. If she missed, well her faith would be the same as if she hadn't done anything at all. She placed the arrow on the string, the way she thought it was meant to be, and pulled the tight string. The strength required to do such a thing was more than she could've ever imagined. Adding to that her lack of proper posture, getting that thing to work for her was quite the challenge.
"Hey," she called out to the guard, who had ran into the streets looking for some reinforcements. "Did you forget about me again?" he turned around to face her, surprise spread on his face. And it was when she saw his face, trying to hide the fear of dying, that Amira decided to try her best with her new weapon. The feeling of being the predator rather than the prey was all that was needed for Amira to release the arrow which soon enough ended up lodged in the man's chest.
***
"Master Adnan, thank goodness you are alright," one of Amira's chambermaids ran to greet the man as he stepped into what used to be his fiancé's home. The place seemed so much duller to him without Amira running away from her chores and the maids trailing after her trying to convince her to return to her lessons. Besides that, however, nothing seemed strange about the house. If his memory served him correctly everything was where it had been left.
"Did anyone come here, Farah?" he asked, though he did not wait for a reply and ran upstairs to reach the bedrooms. He knew Amira's room was as empty as the rooms of their staff. The only place where they could've been interested in visiting was her father's bedroom – her late mother was a great collector of fine jewelry and clothes. The chambermaid followed him, though it was hard for her to keep up with his pace.
"Some weird guards came by the day Lady Amira was arrested. How is she, young master? Is she going to be alright?" the chambermaid expressed her preoccupation. Regardless of the trouble she liked to create, she was very dear to the girl.
"She'll be alright, Farah," Adnan said calmly as he halted outside her father's locked door. "Could you open this place for me?" he asked nicely and the chambermaid proceeded to do as he asked. He had, in that household, as much authority as the master himself. The room, bearing much difference with the rest of the house in luxury and detail seemed to have acquired a new main difference.
While the rest of the house remained intact that room seemed to have pillaged completely. There were residues of broken pottery on the floor as well as pieces of clothes and pillows sprawled around them. The drawers were broken open and their contents, Adnan assumed, were probably stolen. Yet, against all odd, everything, although either damaged or out of place, was still there. He did not know exactly what Amira's mother had kept in her chambers or the amount the value of such pieces. But there was one piece of jewelry that was worth so much more than the rest.
"Farah, you remember that one necklace the mistress had? It was made out of silver and had a stunning blue stone? I think there was a ring of matching color as well." The maid looked confused for a while, but then her face showed her realization.
"Yes, she would always wear it." She admitted.
"Do you know where it is?" Adnan asked, hope filling him for a moment.
"No," the maid replied her face suddenly somber. "Master wanted to keep it and give it to Lady Amira as soon as she was old enough, but the Mistress did not want that. I overheard them once, they were arguing about that. She made him promise that the day of her death he was to dispose of it. But, I am not sure about what he did with it." Adnan sighed and took out his frustrations with one of the few decorations that had remained intact. Like him, whoever went into that room left empty handed.
"You said weird guards came here, right? Where they guards of Damascus?" Adnan asked her, trying to find any more leads.
"No, master Adnan, they did not look one bit like our guards. They were wearing white cloaks but they said they were sent here by –,"
"Those were not guards, Farah," Adnan interrupted. "Don't you recall the man that was found with Amira, wasn't he wearing a similar attire?"
"Oh, no, I had completely forgotten about them. I am so sorry, master if I would have known..." Farah spoke, her voice filled with fear but no regret. It was almost as if she had let them in intentionally.
"If you hadn't let them in they would've found a way inside, anyway. Don't worry about it. Now, if you excuse me I must go somewhere. Oh, and the master is going to be coming back tomorrow so make sure this place is fixed by then." Adnan said and he made his way downstairs, deciding not to wait for a reply from her. Going there was probably the most educational experience he'd had in the last few days. If it was the assassin's the ones who were looking for the stone, then he knew exactly where to go. '
It's on days like this that I wish that girl was a bit more normal,' he commented to himself as he left the house behind. He was not really looking forward to his next journey, given that he had spent the last days traveling, but he was a man of his word. He had promised Ahmed that he would look after his baby sister and he was going to do just that, even if it cost him his life.
And I am late, once again. Not only did I just get my computer back from the shop - damn thing keeps breaking on me - I am starting college soon and so, I've been a tad busy. But, with my computer back and my lack of enthusiasm for my upcoming college life, I am sure I will start posting more frequently (or so I hope). Until next time, muffins.