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Chapter 3
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"Allah be with us. Mama is in such a bad mood today," sighs a young prostitute as she reclines upon the plush pillows.
"Jamilia, Allah has abandoned us a long time ago," retorts Leyla, the exotic Persian who has an impressive repertoire of clients "That is why we are whores. Besides, it is our bad luck that the merchant king's feast ended in disaster and there were no customers last night."
"Almost none," Sana, a chubby and mischievous girl giggles. She admires Leyla to the point of worship and one can always find her to the Persian woman much like a doting pet. "Oh Leyla, tell us of the handsome stranger you entertained last night."
The dark-haired beauty pouts her bountiful lips and replies back in her heavy Persian accent, "Please, I never tire of this topic. He was so… beautiful. Body like that of Adonis, and such a skillful set of hands…" There the surrounding women sighed. "Oh and afterwards, he gave me an extra set of coins and immediately took his leave. Hardly two words passed between us. Those silent types you know."
Giggling and hushed whispers drift from the pillow lounge and into Jin's mouse-like ears from her position in the hallway. It is early noon, and it was her turn to serve tea and refreshments to the girls. Her tea is very welcome amongst the sisters, for its taste as well as the medicinal purposes. She brews it with her own mixture of herbs which will prevent a woman from growing heavy with child.
"Such a shame that he insisted on keeping his face covered."
"Oh really? Do tell…"
"His outfit was that of a scholarly monk. But with all that muscle, it is ridiculous to believe that he is one. He kept most of his clothes on, and even when I went to take off his hood, he stayed my hand. Although, it really did not matter considering what happened afterwards…"
Her hand is gripping the tea kettle so hard that her knuckles turn bone white. Jin numbly registers that the cup is overflowing and it is only when the burning liquid spills into her other hand that she snaps back to reality. Quickly, she wipes up the mess and continues to pour into the remaining tea cups while paying rapt attention to the words of the gossiping women.
"Was it true that he actually requested a girl?"
A loud murmur grows. It is extremely rare that a customer requests a girl other than Leyla. The quiet Halimah, who has been silent during the entire discussion, finally speaks up.
"I heard him. The man said he wanted the girl with sand-colored hair and green eyes. Mama Kalthum managed to convince him such a girl does not exist, and he made to depart."
Jin can just imagine the way the Persian concubine is beaming with all the adoring attention she is receiving. And she cannot help but grit her teeth at the idea she was with him for the entire night…
The youth steadies her breathing as she finally walks out of the hallway with the platter of food and steaming tea in her hands, and into the room with the chattering women, ready for the stares and pointed glances.
"I wonder why he was entertaining the idea of bedding Jin. I mean, look at that unhealthy figure…" Leyla drawls out. Jin shoots her a glare.
The Persian prostitute is Mama's biggest investment: she was bought at no cheap price. However, with her voluptuous curves, and a pair of lips that can sing praises all night, Leyla has already earned triple the amount she was bought for. It is no wonder Mama Kathlum spoils her and gives her everything she desires. Except for one thing.
Freedom.
It makes sense that she is jealous of Jin's liberty to come and leave the establishment. And she will not let the girl forget that for a second.
"How does he even know she is female in the first place?"
All eyes turn on the her, and Jin bits her lip. She quickly places a cup of tea in front of each girl and dodges their curious gazes. Her steps of retreat are short-lived however, as the influential prostitute snatches out her hand and grabs her wrist.
"Jin, my dear. Please do enlighten us." Leyla's voice is like sugary syrup. Sweet and entrapping.
"I…do not know of which you speak of."
"The man from last night obviously knows of you. How many fair-haired and green-eyed maidens exist in Damascus?"
"But I do not know him."
"Just think of the beating you will get from Mama…" Leyla's grip tightens perceptibly.
Jin takes great care to not show irritation in her voice. Any hint of ill ease will work to the older woman's advantage.
"Mama will do as she sees fit," Jin coolly replies, as she wrenches her arm from the death grip. Swiftly, she walks out of the room and retreats back to her room. She shuts the door quietly, and sinks to the floor, lightheaded from the unanswered questions swimming through her thoughts.
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She does not know it will start a ritual. Only that one day she does not close the rooftop window as she lays down for the night, and when she awakes, he is there. Watching from his perch.
Not daring to utter a sound, she slides off of the bed and approaches the shadow framed within the light of the window. She asks him if he wants to come in and eat some food. He accepts by leaping soundlessly onto the floor.
As they sit side by side on wooden stools, picking at the scant breakfast on her working table, Jin blurts out the question she has been meaning to ask.
"Were you here the other night?"
He nods, and does not elaborate.
"You requested a girl?"
Another nod. Another bite of the stale bread.
"Was it… me?" She breathes out in a bare whisper. Altair shows no reaction but finishes off the contents of his plate. He sets down the utensils carefully and turns to look at her.
"Yes. But they insisted you did not exist."
"And then they offered you another girl." She cannot keep the accusatory tone out of her voice.
"Yes."
A simple answer. One that offered no further explanation.
"Why?"
"Why not? I am a man…"
Jin blushes at his tone. She ducks her head and stares at her uneaten portion.
"How interesting that you are the one asking the questions when it is yourself who is shrouded in mysteries," the assassin, unruffled and in control, smoothly changes the subject.
"What do you mean by that?" the girl cautiously ventures.
Like a dangerous predator, he dissects her, finds the little chinks of weaknesses, and lays them out in the open.
"Why is a young girl in a brothel but not a prostitute? Why does she dress, talk, and behave like a man? Why is she allowed to venture outside when most of the women are not? Why does she live in a derelict attic adorned with nothing but medicine?"
She glances up at him, taking in his stern stance, his gaze, and those golden eyes demanding nothing short of the truth.
"It is… a long and complicated tale…"
"Which I hope to hear one day," Altair finishes smoothly for her.
"But why? Surely such one as yourself…" she falters, not sure how to approach the subject.
"Have more important matters to attend to?" He hints at his dangerous occupation, but like her, not quite touching on it. Altair smirks to himself. She is as sharp as a knife's blade.
"I have just completed my mission. How I spend the next few days is up to my discretion."
Jin swallows. A successful assassination. Another life taken, and the murderer is sitting there, sitting in her stool, eating her food, and calmly conversing with her.
"Why are you here?" she asks tentatively. Jin's not sure if she wants to hear the answer. Especially if it means at the cost of her life.
"Relax. I am not here for your life. That would be a waste my efforts of having taken the trouble to save you that day." The girl stiffens at his comment. It is as if he read her mind.
"I am just mildly curious about my mysterious benefactor. But it looks like you have questions for me as well. Under mutual understanding of secrecy, I propose us taking turns in asking them. Agreed?"
The quiet girl nods. This man is different from the one she rescued that day. The one who pinned her down roughly was tense, frightening, and dangerous. This is not the one who killed those guards in cold blood. The one who is sitting in front of her today is… almost approachable.
"Since you have already asked a fair share of questions, I shall start with mine. What is your name?" the man curtly asks with no pleasantries in his voice.
"I go by Jin."
"But that is not your real name," Altair guesses. Correctly, as the visible twitch from her left eye informs him.
Jin sighs and answers, "Jinan."
"Meaning garden? And it can be associated with both male and female. It is very fitting. Family name?"
The girl grits her teeth and bites out, "I have no family."
An eyebrow quirks at her tone, but that is all he does to acknowledge the touchy subject as he smoothly moves on.
"How did you come about to live at a brothel?"
"I have little recollection. I remember being sold to Mama Kathlum by a slave trader…" Jin cannot finish her sentence as her thoughts shift elsewhere.
"Talal! That no-good rotten piece of flesh! I heard he was murdered, could you have…were you the one… by any chance?" Her eyes look up at him earnestly.
The assassin is taken aback for a moment. The intensity, the sliver of hope that glimmers in her eyes slightly alarms him. Taking a measured breath, he answers simply, "Yes."
Jin closes her eyes solemnly. Those days under the slave trader's tyranny surface from the darkest region of her memories.
Cold, dank cages with chains that rust on fragile wrists. The disturbing moans and cries of the other captives that last through entire nights, never granting one a moment's rest. Worst of all, the face of her torturer. No matter how many years have passed, that horrid face surrounded by flames haunt her in dreams.
So lost she is in her recollections, she forgets about the even more dangerous man in the room.
"What is that?" Before she can react, his hand brushes aside hay strands of her hair, revealing the purpling bruise at her left temple. Jin hastily brush him away.
"It is nothing."
"You did not sustain this injury from the guards."
"No, I did not."
He waits patiently. Jin avoids looking at him. At those eyes. They can see right through her and pierces through her being with such ferocity, such intensity that she finds it hard to breath.
"I was beaten. By Mama Kathlum because I am not supposed to reveal my secret."
He digests this for a few heavy moments. Quietly, with no inflection in his voice, Altair asks, "Is it because I asked for you?"
She slowly nods.
"My apologies. I would not have done so if I knew it would cause trouble for you. I thought… you were a prostitute."
Jin can feel heat rising to her face. Whether it is from those rare kind words, or from the implicit reason he requested her that night, she does not know.
"I thank you for your hospitality," Altair stands and prepares to leave.
Jin stays on her stool and watches him go. He leaps through the make-shift window, and effortlessly pulls himself through the opening.
She waits until she is certain that he is gone, and sighs.
"It was no trouble at all."
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He knows he is wasting his time here. Days have since passed the assassination and yet he makes no move to journey back to Masyaf.
Instead, he perches on a high beam, eyes hawking the movements a particular young man- no, a young girl as she makes her way through the middle district. She carries with her a basket of herbs covered with linen and strides with a purpose.
Altair silently commends her for her convincing performance. The way she walks, lift her head to meet gazes, and her proud, erect posture all label her as male.
And yet… his mind drifts back to that moment when he tackled her to the floor. His arm undoubtedly made contact with her chest. He should have made the connection immediately. But appearances are so deceiving.
The second time, when his body pressed hers to the wall as they hid from their pursuers, he undeniably felt her curves. Thankfully, he managed to control himself, Allah be praised, or he might have taken her right there in the alley.
The assassin does not know why his mind keeps wandering back to that strange girl. She is like a never-ending mystery. The more he finds out about her, the more questions surface. It is like a unquenchable thirst.
That is why he sought her out in the brothel that night: to satisfy at least one of the thirsts. But he is again thwarted. By a corpulent spinster with her prized, exotic pet. Disappointing, to say the least.
However, he finds a small satisfaction in seeing jealousy spark in her emerald eyes as she question him about that night. She did not wear her usual scarf and headdress as she has just awoken, so he was able to see her mouth pout just a tiny bit, and the faint wrinkle form above her pert nose.
He silently reflects upon her temporary irritation at him, and concludes that it does not even hold a candle's breath to his.
The youth finally stops at a modest building, and knocks at the front door. A man, certainly a servant, answers and lets her in immediately, greeting her with familiarity. Her small form disappears from his scouring gaze as she enters into the darkness of the house.
The assassin ponders this for a brief second, and swiftly circles the rooftops around the building. The crates as well as the extra shed in the back yard tells him this is a merchant's house. A quick glimpse at an open crate reveals fruit. From the east side, he is able to catch sight of the girl greeting a man laying on a bed through drawn curtains.
Fascinated, he pauses to watch.
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Jin examines the man's injuries critically. A hiss escapes her lips as she sees the beginnings of infection and at the poor state of the bandages.
Jin remembers the guard's brutal treatment of this fruit vendor right before they assaulted her. In a commanding voice, she orders the servant on standby to get her clean linens. She then proceeds to take out the herbs and grinds them with the pestle and mortar she was provided with. With smooth efficiency, she dresses the open wound with the crushed herbs and rebinds it with fresh linens.
The man is thanking her profusely, but all she can hear is the leering taunts of the soldiers as they physically beat her. Your foe is my enemy also, Jin silently thinks as she smiles and accepts his money.
She follows the servant outside, and takes her leave. As she walks back home through the narrow corridors of the middle district, a soaring eagle's shadow trails behind her footsteps.
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She can feel his presence almost immediately. As Jin stirs from sleep, her senses alert her to another aura.
A deadly, threatening presence.
Her instincts have not failed her before, so when she does not see him at the open window, the girl peeks out. Sure enough, he is sitting a hand's breath away from the opening, his posture relaxed. Jin hesitates. This quiet moment seems to be his, and she does not want to intrude.
"It is strangely peaceful here." His voice is calm and toneless. She quietly offers breakfast again, but this time he refuses.
"It is not wise to associate yourself with me."
"I agree. Yet I find you intruding upon my rooftop more often than not," Jin pauses contemplatively, "You chose to save me that day. Or was that just honor-bound duty?"
"There is no honor in what I do," he replies sharply.
"But you mean me no harm."
"How can you be certain?"
"I…have this feeling. An awareness if you will." As the words leave her mouth, Jin cringes inwardly. Such strange words! Nobody in their right mind would believe her. Certainly not this austere man.
"I understand. You must have observed many people in your short lifetime in order to gain this ability."
His words shock her. Jin turn to gawk at him, but Altair continues to stare out at the wide horizon.
"Y-you mean…"
"I have this ability too. It is actually a priceless tool in my line of work."
Moments pass on in pensive silence.
"I… am not that young," Jin abruptly says. His earlier comment on a short lifetime bothers her.
"Is that so?"
"I do not know when my birth date is, but according to Mama I should be around eighteen years of age," she knows she is spewing out unnecessary words, but once the dam opens it cannot be shut, "Already past marriageable age."
"I cannot say for certain, but I think your current living situation already greatly impairs your chances for a respectable marriage."
Jin blinks at him. She cannot be sure, but she thinks she sees the corners of his mouth twitch. Holding back that smirk of his.
"Are you mocking me?"
"Perhaps."
A mirthless laugh bursts out of Jin's mouth.
"You are right. I have already accepted the fact I will live out my life as a spinster. But to have a criminal find amusement in my lifestyle is a bit too much."
The air suddenly changes. Tension descends as any traces of wind disappears.
"You see me as a criminal?" he inquires in a deadly voice.
Many responses race in her mind, but none comes out. Jin bites the inside of her mouth and refuses to meet his eyes. He might have saved her. He did murder her enemies. But in the end he is still a killer. She must remind herself that he is not a friend. Should and cannot be a friend.
"Yes, it is true that my hands are not clean. I do not expect the people to see me as a savior, but you cannot truly believe that I am an obstruction to justice. It is with these two hands that I end lives, and the corruption that follows them."
Jin almost flinches at his tone. He is so resolute and unwavering that she can feel it.
"But who are you to say they are in the wrong? Do you just simply decide that this man is a sinner and take his life?"
"No, it is not I who decide. My master does."
"And you believe him?"
It takes him a few more seconds than necessary to answer. And she knows it.
"Yes."
"This master of yours… he must be a wise man," Jin quietly adds, but voicing her true thoughts in her head.
Or else the world is going straight into the fiery pits of hell.
"I must go now. The morning patrols shall be making their rounds soon."
Altair gracefully rises to his feet. For the first time during the exchange, he turns and looks at her. Briefly, but stretching for an eternity, his golden gaze alights upon her.
She wants to ask him when he will stop by again, but thinks better of it. It is not like he will answer her anyways.
"Safety and peace, Jinan."
And he disappears in a blur of white wings.
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Jin sighs heavily. She walks into her room, limbs aching and eyes drowsy. It is late evening, and she has short hours before the sun rises again and the endless cycle of chores begin once more.
She shuts the door quietly, and without bothering with her clothes, slump into her bed. Her stomach chooses at that instance to complain loudly, and Jin groans into her pillow. She reasons that she will not die from starvation for the night and sleep is more precious, until her nose catches a delectable scent.
Jin frowns. The smell is coming from the room, and yet no one ever leaves her food. Especially food that smells this good.
The girl opens her eyes and gasps at the unusual sight. She scrambles up from the bed and trips her way to the work table.
A knapsack full of delicious edibles sits alongside a skin of quality wine. Jin knows immediately who its from. Her proof, when she lifts the leather bag, is a single eagle feather, being disturbed by the motion, fluttering down to the ground.
So... I guess ppl will be confused, frustrated, or w/e. This chapter was a pain since I was having issues of whether or not I should develop the characters or just focusing on certain scenes I want to write about. Beta isn't helping either since she keeps wanting this story to end in a tragedy.
In case ppl are confused, time has passed from chap 1 -chap 2 b/c Altair is in Damascus for his second kill, the merchant king. After he does the dirty deed, he stops by the brothel to see Jin (b/c killing apparently turns him on and he wants to screw the girl) - my beta's cynical comment. hahaha I wish I can post her rant on that.
He doesn't leave Damascus for awhile. First, b/c I imagine security is really tight after an assassination and guards would be really careful. So he waits and bides his time. In the game, time fast forwards after a kill to Masaf, allowing me to take liberties to how long he actually does stay. But at the end of this chap, he really does leave Damascus. (But not after leaving a lil present for Jin! :)
O yeah, on a totally dif note. I was heavily influenced by some AC fanfics before writing this one. Go check them out:
A Stab in the Dark - by Sparkly-elf
Ambrosia - by Cheerie Mai
The Man in White - by Prtyjedi
Creed - by Avs