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Chapter 4

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The crowd seethes and bellows like an angry storm. They gather around the gallows, where three men are bound tightly to stakes. The civilians surge in tempestuous waves, testing the thin line of guards. Within the chaos, a single white sail drifts within the ocean of bodies, untouched and moving at its own pace.

The people's shouts rise to a new crescendo as a blue-robed figure steps into view. Like an actor on stage, Majd Addin brings his arms up in a grand flourish.

"Silence! I demand silence!" the executioner commands in a booming voice.

"People of Jerusalem, hear me well. I stand here today to deliver a warning. There are malcontents amongst you, sowing the seeds of discontent. Hoping to lead you astray. Tell me, is this what you desire?" Fervent protests answer his call, and encourages the man further.

"Then you wish to take action? Your devotion pleases me. This evil must be purged. Only then can we hope to be redeemed!"

Suddenly two men break off from crowd, brandishing weapons and heading towards the stage. As they valiantly rush towards Majd Addin, they shout, "This is not justice! Curse you!"

However, their effort is gruesomely wasted as austere soldiers detach themselves from the line and cut them down in violent sprays of blood. The crowd can only look on in stoned shock. Majd Addin takes this all in stride, a look of great pleasure disgustingly forming on his features.

"They sought to instill fear and doubt within you. But I… will keep you safe. Hear now, the harlot, the thief, the gambler, the heretic. Let judgment be brought upon you all!"

Thunderous cheers answer him. Satisfied, the imposing man turns to face his first prey.

Never does he see the silent group of scholars making their way past the guards, to the platform. Never does he see that sail of white make his entrance on his stage. Never does he see that hidden blade, but only feels the cold metal as it penetrates his spine. Unconsciousness seizes him immediately, but something, or rather, someone stays Death from claiming him.

Majd Addin opens his eyes, and finds himself in the arms of a stranger. He reckons this man to be a messenger of Allah. For why else will a man dress in white and look upon him with such compassionate regret in his eyes? The man in white addresses him softly, and after a few seconds Majd Addin manages to finally focus on his words.

"You work here is finished. Tell me, what is your part in this. Do you intend to defend yourself like the others?"

"No… no! It has only just begun!" He struggles within the other man's grip, but the stranger, who now he suspect is his murderer, holds on tight.

"You kill people simply for believing differently than you." It is a statement, not a question. The sparks of madness lights in Majd Addin's eyes as he angrily replies, "Of course not! I killed them because I could!… Because it was fun! Do you know what it feels like to determine another man's fate? I was like… a God!" He spits out blood and continues, "You would have done the same."

"Once, perhaps. But then I learned what becomes of those who lift themselves above others."

"And what is that?"

"Here, allow me to show you." The assassin's eyes harden into crystal topaz as his blade sink into the madman's jugular. He quickly takes out the assassination feather and soak it with the fresh blood. Not wanting to spend another moment with the corpse, Altair blinks away the illusion and resumes his place back in reality. Going into that state of being, the place between life and death, is taxing on his psyche. But in the end, it is worth it, for the truth that he seeks lies only in the last breaths of men.

The roar of the crowd and the guards are the first thing that reach his senses. Vision is slightly blurry, but he has already memorized the layout of the surrounding buildings. Without hesitation, he sprints to the edge to the left of the platform, where a ladder is waiting for him. He glances back, making sure the soldiers will be following him, allowing his comrades to free the captives. He climbs and runs across a few rooftops, then takes a sharp turn left and drops down into an empty alley. Walking with long strides and keeping his head down, he locates a near-empty bench. He sits, and waits patiently for the ruckus to die down.

Later on, the assassin gets up, gives the other man sitting on the bench an imperceptible nod, and scales a building on its shadowed side. As he is leaping weightlessly from one rooftop to another, the assassin reflects upon the Majd Addin's dying words.

That man was sick in the mind. Drunken off of corruption and power. The power to control other men's fate. It should not be in just any man's hands. Power itself corrupts even the most virtuous men. He suddenly recalls the last conversation he had with Jin: "This master of yours… he must be a wise man."

It sounds as if she has more to add to the sentence. But she never voices it.

Altair ponders on the meaning of their words as the wind blows lightly on his face and the scenery below rushes by in a blur.

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"Jin! Come clean up this mess!" Mama Kathlum orders. The girl sighs, and leaves the clusters of medicinal herbs she has drying on her work table. She makes her way to the sound of her mistress's voice, who points her to one of the guest rooms where a pile of messy sheets and a broken vase wait for her attention: a testament to a violent customer. In the other room, the sisters are comforting the unfortunate girl, her sobs muffled but still audible.

Jin disinterestedly wonders who it is as she delicately picks up the shards of porcelain in a cupped hand. She picks up the dirty sheets after disposing of the broken vase, and notes with distaste at the speckles of dark brown dotting the fabric. Dried blood.

It is too late in the evening to wash them, so Jin drops it into the wooden wash bucket for tomorrow. She will have to make a trip to the creek the next morning. Jin once again counts her blessings. Her current situation relieves her from being a prostitute. But then again, it is such a two-edged knife it can hardly be counted as a blessing.

The following day, bright sunlight shining in from the open window wakes Jin up. She methodically gathers everything and makes the twenty-minute walk to the river. She will have to make haste as she cannot slack off in her regular duties. As she heads back to the brothel, Jin notices the increased amount of people in the street with faint interest.

Street performances perhaps?

Mayhem greets her as she rounds the corner. It is the smoke that reaches her first. The scent of burning paper that stings the nose. The acrid fumes making her eyes water.

Jin hurriedly rushes by the crowd gathering in the front and through the gates of the courtyard, freezing at the sight that greets her.

Orange flames lick up the walls of the brothel, leaving blackened destruction in its wake. The huge bonfire, made in the middle of the courtyard have spread its deadly arms to the wooden structure with the help of the wind. Standing in front of the bonfire is a figure she has never seen before. His face is mostly concealed with turban and scarf. The girl has no time to think as screams reach her ears.

"Help! Some one help!"

"The fire! It is everywhere! Allah have mercy!"

The sisters are scattering wildly within the courtyard. Mama Kathlum is no where in sight. The bystanders themselves are too stunned with fear to help.

Jin does not panic at first. She accessed the situation quietly. The brothel's location is already revealed, but Mama might be able to pay the officials off. The fire is not out of control and the buildings will hold. All the sisters are streaming out the doors, with all their scant belongings in their arms. She herself does not have much. The medicine is replaceable, and what she value is usually carried on her person.

Jin's attention shifts to the figure by the bonfire, who is feeding something to the fiery beast.

No, not firewood. Blocks. Blocks that look like- books?

Something clicks in Jin's mind.

Oh no. Heavens no. No!

The wooden bucket with the clean laundry clatters loudly to the ground. She pounces toward the man feeding the precious books to the fire, but his guards quickly step in to block her.

"You dare oppose Jubair Al Hakim? Away peasant!" One of the biggest soldiers shout at the others, "Go around the other houses and gather books! We're just about finished here."

Not listening to another word, Jin rushes into the nearest door, pushing past the sisters who are running the opposite way.

Not that! Anything but that!

She climbs the stairs swiftly and makes for her little room in the attic. Once inside, she races to her bed, and jams her hands under the pillow. Her fingers find what they are seeking, and with a big sigh of relief, Jin pulls out her most prized possession. A faint smile graces her face as she presses the item to her heart.

It is then that she realizes where she actually is. Jin freezes at the sight of black smoke creeping through the ajar doorway and orange flames starting to eat away at the floorboards. She falls back, clutching her item to her chest even more frantically.

The window! The roof! Her mind screams out to her.

But her body will not budge. The sight of the fire, a sight that has haunted her since her earliest childhood memories has rendered her immobile. The fact the brothel is on fire did not even register earlier. So anxious she was to find…

"What are you doing there? Come out!" A voice from the past surfaces in her mind.

She cannot stop coughing. The smoke is suffocating. Pressing heavy weight on her chest and lungs.

"Hurry! It is too dangerous!"

One voice mixes with another, and she cannot recognize it anymore. The past. The present. They merge into one. But fear is still the same no matter what.

Memories of the pain flash in her mind. The burning sensation in which flesh rip apart into black tar. The pieces of skin dropping like rotting meat. The smell. The agony.

Jin closes her eyes. Smoke is surrounding her, cutting off her oxygen and it will be a matter be a time before she suffocates and the flames will consume her body.

At least, my parents… they are with me. I will join them…

Suddenly, firm hands are grabbing her by the waist. A dizzying sense of being lifted. Rough movements jostling her, and then the breath of fresh air caressing her face like a mother's touch.

Jin opens her watering eyes, and gazes into the clear sky. She is lying on her back on a flat roof top.

"You're alive."

She recognizes that voice. That deep, caustic tone can only belong to one man.

Altair.

Jin turns her head towards him. The stains of soot and the burnt edges of his robe does not even faze him. Or take away his beauty. His gaze is as keen and entrancing as ever.

"Can you stand?"

She tries. And fails miserably as her legs buckle underneath her. Her breathing falters, as too much smoke has entered her lungs. Dry, hacking coughs rack her frail body, and she cannot even begin to look up at him.

He moves so fast, she does not even realize she is lifted off of her feet until the coughing spasms are over. Jin forces her eyes open, and is in awe at the speed in which the surrounding buildings are passing by. The assassin is running so effortlessly even while carrying her. His hold on her tightened for a slight second. She idiotically had a notion that he is displaying his protective nature for her. Until she feels the change of rhythm in his gait.

He is speeding up his pace. But for what?

She glances up ahead, and gasps out loud.

Surely he is not going to jump that?

There is at least a five meter gap between the edge of rooftop to the next one. No human can possibly think of making it across. Alive.

Words escape her. Instead she just shuts her eyes and holds on tighter to his robes. His muscles starts coiling tightly, like a tightly-wound spring. She estimates the distance to the end, and nervously counts down the sound of his footfalls.

Four, three, two, and one.

A light step and he leaps.

Jin cannot help herself. She opens her eyes and take in the sight. They seem to be suspended midair in the split second in which gravity no longer affect them. As they soar through the air with the wind laughing into her face, she revels in the sensations. The feeling of lightness. What a newborn sparrow feels as it takes its maiden flight.

Too soon they land. Quite heavily because he is not used to his new burden, but he does not drop her. He quickly make his way to a square pavilion. Jin recognizes them as the covered roof gardens that some households have to grow their own vegetables. He sets her down inside and tells her to wait there until he comes back to get her. He is gone before she can utter a word.

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"Would you like to explain why you would act so foolishly? Any street urchin has enough sense to run away from a burning building and not into it."

His reprimanding voice jolts her awake. Jin have been dozing in and out of sleep inside the roof garden. She has not eaten since last night, and her entire frame shakes with hunger.

"For this."

At the sight of her trembling hands unfolding to reveal a beaten book cover, threads fraying and no pages in between, Altair loses it. There is an unprecedented roughness in his voice as he grinds out, "You barge into a fire for this? Do you value your own life so little that you would toss it aside for a piece of leather?"

Jin does not meet his eyes. Or cringe at his words. She just tightened her hold on the object.

"This is… the book that holds all the knowledge my parents have left. All the history, all of their research of medicinal plants and their properties, and everything I know are written within its pages. The only thing my deceased parents have left me."

Silence prevails. His glare is sharp and unforgiving.

"It has no pages. There is only a leather cover."

"I have memorized all the information within its pages. In order to prevent others from stealing it or acquiring it too, I destroyed the pages."

"No life is worth that."

"I am living because of that," she retorts. Stinging from his words but refusing to back down. Self-contained rage is evident in her voice as she bites out, "I am grateful that you have rescued me, but if you keep questioning my motives, then it would have been better if you have left me to the fire."

Altair regards her carefully, and then decides to move onto more pressing matters.

"Your home has been completely evacuated. The building still stands, but suffers from severe damage . Your… guardian has taken refuge at a neighbor's house. I will leave you at-"

"Why are you doing this?"

The assassin pauses and then continues in a carefully neutral tone, "My targets were Jubair Al Hakim and his men. One of which who decided to use that particular courtyard for his …demonstration. The fire is an unforeseen factor, but it helped my cause since it added to the confusion."

Her eyes narrow in suspicion.

"So you had a bout of guilty conscience?"

"I am under orders not to harm innocents."

But that does not require you to rescue them.

It is now Jin who studies him carefully. She tries to find any other explanation in his face, but Altair's features are set in stone. Expressionless and enigmatic.

"Are you quite done? Or shall I just leave you here and hope that your extended kin will search the rooftops for a person who is supposedly non-existent?"

Jin opens her mouth, and then abruptly shuts clicks in her mind and she looks at her savior. She did rush into a burning house and nobody saw her come out.

"They all think I am dead?" He says nothing. Gathering up her courage to ask the near-impossible, Jin whispers, "Would it be possible… for me to stay dead then?"

Silence pass between the two. The girl bravely tries to level her gaze at the assassin, trying to convince him of her sincerity whilst not knowing that Altair already understood her intentions immediately. She does not see herself as a member of that household. It is not loyalty or obligation that binds her to the brothel, but chains of bondage. What he conceives as loyalty are just typical ties of convenience. This is an opportunity for her to free herself.

The assassin gives her a look that evidently says, Where shall you go then?

Jin's answer comes so fast that he swears she has already made plans to leave even before this incident.

"Now it is I who owe you a life. Please… take me with you."

"I work better alone. You will only slow me down."

"I can help in other ways. I can mix medicine, treat wounds, and gather information."

"Our stronghold is not a suitable place for women."

Jin lifts her chin stubbornly and counters, "Is a brothel more suitable place? Besides, do I look like a woman to you?"

"You think you are able to fool a whole fortress of assassins? Do not be naïve."

Her mouth tightens and her eyes are flashing out a challenge. Altair's patience is wearing thin. He can see she will not give up ground. He concedes that the girl is right on some regards. The brothel is not her home nor a suitable place for her to live. She does not belong there. But to have her living in Masyaf…

"Once you enter our organization, other paths of life are closed off to you. You must walk the road laid out for you and no other."

"I accept," she answers instantly, and in reply to his stern glare, Jin adds, "Believe me, I am sincere for I forge my own paths in life."

Altair nods slightly. She already knows too much about him and the Brotherhood. Having her permanently stationed within Masyaf will be like quarantining a security issue. Without having to kill her.

"I shall take you to the Assassin's Bureau in this city. But I give you no promises of your safety or what will happen to you."

Without visible effort, he lifts her just like before and begins to make his way across the rooftops. Jin begins to protest that she is not some useless rag doll that he has to carry everywhere, but stops when she realizes this method of traveling is much faster and she is too weak from a complete day's lack of nourishment to make much progress on foot.

After only a few minutes, they drop down through a discrete opening on the roof of a domed building. The interior is like a private conservatory. Playful trickling of water emits from a small fountain, while an array of floor rugs and plush cushions lies on the floor invitingly. Altair tells her to wait, and he quickly strides through an open doorway. The exhausted girl collapses into the pile of welcoming pillows, and falls quickly asleep.

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"So she is a woman? How convincing her disguise is…"

"Please do not praise her more than necessary. Her ego is much too big for her own good," Altair scoffs as he pours Rafiq, the Bureau leader, another cupful of wine. The two are quietly sharing a drink in the dark, with only the audience of the candlelight and the form of one sleeping girl in the next room. The Rafiq chuckles as if sharing an inside joke with himself, and eyes the younger assassin quite carefully.

"So even the strongest of them fall to the wiles of women."

Altair's first instinct is to protest, but then thinks better of it. It is a believable cover. Many assassins have taken wives and started a family within the secret walls of Masyaf.

But they only do so when they near imminent retirement, and so rarely does an assassin live out his full lifespan. He, on the other hand, is on a mission to regain his rightful position of head assassin, to bring honor to the Brotherhood, and most of all, to find out the truth behind these recent events. There is no need, no desire to have a woman by his side.

So why is he in the position he is now? Why did he bring her to the Assassin's Bureau? Compromising the safety of the Brotherhood … again?

Truthfully, he does not know why he is so fixated on this… girl. She can hardly even be considered a female with the way she dresses, walks, and swears like a thug. She has no reputation, has no land or title, and does not even have a family. He has hardly seen any parts of her body to deem her attractive, other than her pale face with those green eyes. As if that is not enough, trouble follows her every step. If it is not the guards, then it is a burning building that seeks her death.

The strong alcohol is dulling his senses. Altair welcomes the numbness, the burning sensation in his throat and smiles grimly at his own inconceivable circumstances. His drinking partner, however, completely mistakes his expression for something else: the face of a love-sick man.

The Rafiq laughs heartily and lowers his face closer to Altair's and asks, "Will you be taking her to Masyaf then?"

Altair meditates over the implications for heavy minutes, and then tersely replies, "No. She will stay here and prove her worth first." His tone of voice leaves no room for argument.

He cannot bring her in front of Al Mualim. Faithful that he is to his master, there has been a seed of disquiet growing within him. Al Mualim is withholding information from him. His slain targets' dying words are all hinting at a greater purpose, a bigger picture, and he cannot rest until he gets to the bottom of it. Until then, Masyaf, he decides quietly, is not the safest place for this girl.

Seeing the other man's hesitant expression, Altair smoothly adds, "I am sure there are menial tasks that a busy man such as yourself have no time for. Why not make use of a pair of extra hands? She will definitely not complain since she will be working for the roof overhead and the food she eats." The Rafiq nods slowly in agreement and the decision is made.

Not that Altair will take another answer.

After a few more hours of idle chatter, the two men retire to their chambers.

Altair has always slept in the open conservatory, since it allows him to hear the faintest noise from outside and it is the only unguarded area of the building. But tonight, there is an extra body lying on the cushions. He does not mind her in the least bit, and lies down at a respectable distance besides her.

Jin's face in repose is so child-like. The girl's features are surprisingly strong, with a straight nose, unwavering brow line, and a thin line of a mouth. He envisions that face contorting in bewilderment in the morning when she finds out that he is gone. Altair smiles as he imagines the string of curses she will mutter, at the way she will stomp around in anger, and her making indignant noises. But then his smile vanishes as he considers what she will most certainly see as betrayal. Or a broken promise. Her trust in him will be deeply shaken.

The assassin scowls at himself.

Since when does an adolescent girl's opinion matter to me? I never did promise her anything, he reassures himself. She is the one imposing on me and has no right to be angry.

He turns over onto his back and closes his eyes. Sleep does not draw him in her dark embrace however, and before the peeping rays of dawn shine through the open ceiling, he is already gone.

Notes: Borrowed dialogue straight from game for the kill scene. Thought Majd Addin's rant is a nice foreshadowing of the actions of a certain someone.

Don't know if Jin's reasoning to leave with Altair is logical enough. I never even originally planned for her to leave Damascus nor for the brothel go up in flames either. Oops. But really, she does know too much about the assassins. Haha now that I think of it, if I did kill off Jin earlier, (no doubt at Altair's own hands), my beta would be happy b/c it turned out to be a tragedy, and Jin would just be a brief passing chapter in Altair's life. And I could move on with my life.

There must be a conspiracy when the characters start taking a life of their own. And refusing to leave me alone.

Breakdown: Altair kills Majd Addin in Jerusalem. Goes to Damascus for Jubair Al Hakim, and rescues Jin from being collateral damage. She guilt trips him into letting her tag along, but he ditches her at the Bureau all the while telling himself it is for her own safety. And not because he cannot handle his hormones around her. (Total sarcasm btw)

And has anyone noticed that I have not mentioned Adha ever since Chapter One? (lol and probably won't until later in story either. FYI, she's a character in Altair Chronicles)