xxxxxxxxxxxx
Chapter 17
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Dear Friend,
It is not discretion that you hide behind. At least I am willing to show concern for a friend, and not send them away at the slightest inconvenience. But I suppose your stoic nature is part of your charm. Which explains why you are so popular with women.
As for my husband, he is doing well. A bit too well in my opinion. I attached some inventory and numbers. You know what to do with them.
-Y
xxxxxxxxxxxx
He has no time to waste. Word of the guards' deaths must have traveled throughout the fortress. Henry II will become even more suspicious and wary. It will be a matter of days before the staff realizes they are missing a servant.
From what Jin has told him, there's no doubt of the count's collaboration with the Templar. The only problem is, they do not have tangible proof.
The noisy street below pays him no mind as sits on a ledge right below a balcony. He focuses his vision. The differently colored auras swim into view. Red is, unfortunately, the most pervasive one.
The man's a coward. He has guards following his every step. Normally that isn't a problem for him, but the sheer amount of men will most likely outnumber him. That, and he does not have enough evidence for an official assassination. So a public scene is out of the question. Altair grunts as he readjusts his position.
Malik will not be happy, he grimly thinks.
The crowd cheering interrupts his quiet thoughts. Altair does not bother to watch as the parade begins. Instead, his eyes roam at the towers and battlements. Guards are positioned in every nook and corners. Heavy metal helmets cover their heads. Making it a lot harder for the hidden blade.
But at the same time, preventing them from looking up. And seeing him.
"James, have they caught the intruder yet?" Henry II taps his fingers impatiently against the railing.
"No, my lord. But they are still looking. There are also double the amount of guards," James answers dutifully from his position by the window curtains.
"Incompetence…" the older man mutters. He leans against the balcony, and glares at the merry parade happening below. "Just what is going on down there?"
His aide examines his nails in a bored fashion. "Just some welcoming event for our guests sir. Morale have been low lately, and- sir?" He raises his head to see the spot his master previously occupied empty.
A shriek from below spurs him into action. James rushes to the balcony, leans over its edge and peers down below. It was not a long drop from the window. Five meters at the most. So James is able to see the blood spreading like fire on the cobblestone, and see the weird angles in which the count's limbs makes.
"My lord!"
Suddenly a hand reaches out and grabs his collar. James chokes as his body is pressed up tight against the railings of the balcony.
"Give me the names of the Templars your master has contacted." A deep, dark voice demands. The aide finds himself face to face with a tawny, predator's glare.
"I-I do not know," stammers the terrified man. Altair pulls the poor man even harder against the metal railings.
"Do not know or do not remember? Either way, you will soon join your friend down there shortly if you do not answer."
James blanches at the assassin's words. "He has not! I swear it!"
Altair narrows his eyes at man's earnest tone. Perhaps he is telling the truth. And perhaps Henry II did not have the message go through this servant. Either way, time is short. The guards are already amassing below.
With a muttered blessing, the assassin flings the scrawny man over the balcony to join his master. Altair is almost certain he will survive the fall. The only one he wanted dead was Henry II, and his hidden blade made sure of that before he threw him over.
Altair climbs up over the metal railing. Jumps and grabs a hold of the low awning and pulls himself up onto the slanted rooftop. His feet cannot run fast enough. The white-robed man literally soars as he sprints back to the Bureau.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Were those memories that she sometimes sees? Shades of remembrances of a distant past, or vestiges of a forgotten dream? She does not know.
Masyaf's shining, bright sun hangs above in the clear sky. There is an eagle's cry, the flutter of wings, and a flash of talons. She remembers being happy. Of being so weightless and carefree. And of a man who she centers her entire existence upon.
When he is pleased she is ecstatic. When he is moody she gets anxious. When he is troubled, she feels agony.
Sometimes when she closes her eyes, he will be there. Silent, deadly, and his shadow is stalking her movements from above. Or sometimes, when she opens them, he is not there. But sometimes in the morning, there's a lingering wetness on her lips, and a slight wrinkle on the bed sheets. And she has to tell herself it is not a dream.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Brother,
You were right. He is a traitor. Target most likely made contact with our enemies. He was looking to sell the location of Masyaf to highest bidder. I could not get the names of the ones he contacted, but expect me back soon.
-A
xxxxxxxxxxxx
She stands on the high watch tower. Leaning onto the edge, Maria breathes in deeply. It is quite nippy up there, and the wind playfully tousles her cape, as they turn her ears red. Her hand naturally goes to her midsection, where a telling bulge is already starting to show. She mentally apologizes to her unborn child, but privacy is the main reason why they choose to meet up there.
She wonders whimsically if the babe will like high places like his father does.
Maria turns as she hears his approach. A smiles unknowingly appears on her face. She knows he purposely gives himself away, all for her consideration.
"You are late," she teases. He does not offer an apology, but comes to stand beside her.
"I will be leaving. The information we learned can be used. Templars are on the move once more, and I need to return to Masyaf to consult with Malik what to do next."
She nods. "A logical step."
"I will be back in half a year at the most. By that time…"
"Women usually do not need a men's help to give birth."
She is teasing him again. It just comes so naturally she cannot resist. But Altair does not smile. "I do not find the idea of missing the birth of my firstborn amusing," he says gravely. She turns slightly and glances up at his solemn face. Goes up to place a soft kiss on his uncompromising mouth.
"Forgive me. You will not. He will wait for you. And I…" she pauses briefly, " am not used to such an attentive father."
She does not mention Robert De Sable. Or how she hid the secret of her pregnancy from him. Maria knew back then it will not stay a secret for long, and plans to eventually tell him, but he died before she had the chance. She will not speak of the lonely nights. Of the fear and uncertainty that sometimes wracked through her body, ones that left her breathless and tense.
But the fact that Altair will be at her side, it comforts her greatly. She leans into his touch easily and with much familiarity.
"So what kind of father was the man before me?" he asks quietly. She stills. His arms tighten around her, holding her in place.
"He did not know. Hardly right to blame him," she tries to say it with a dismissive tone, but it just sounds wistful. She desperately searches for another topic.
"And the baby?"
"Lost him. Pretty early on." She replies flatly. It is not a lie, she reasons silently.
"My condolences." His hold loosens. But she does not step away.
"What about the girl, Jinan? Have you told of what you learned about her family?" She switches abruptly.
His face is perfectly still. Breathing is normal. But yet Maria can still feel it: she caught him off guard. She smirks.
How quickly the tables can turn.
"I have not," he admits finally, "I see no point in bringing up history that will not help her."
"But she deserves to know does she not? I would if I were her."
But you are not, he silently adds. Maria peers at him under his hood. She knew there is something between the two. Between hearing how he says her name and him reacting so strongly against Jin's plan, Maria can guess there is some past history. And perhaps it is not all in the past. For he has moments when there is a far-off look in his eyes. As if he is not completely there with her.
"Was she a lover?" Her blunt question surprises him. Altair's eyes narrow in suspicion. "I do not see how this is relevant with the topic at hand."
"It is not. This is for my curiosity's sake. Was she?" Maria insistently asks.
A pause. Altair looks as if he is going to say something. But she quickly cuts in.
"Never mind. It matters not to me." Maria turns sharply. Takes a few steps away from him and leans against the battlement. She can already tell. Master Assassin he might be, but she still has a women's intuition, and she just knows. It does not bother her much. A man like him was bound to have many women at his side. But what bothers her is how much she cares.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
The cold water of the indoor fountain slides over her scalp and some trickle down her neck. Yasmin's gentle fingers run through her hair and lathers soap to wash away the hair dye. Now that her mission's done, Jin is free to shed her disguise.
"Almost done. Your hair has grown so long," Yasmin murmurs above her. "This reminds me of the many times I washed your hair and picked out your outfits."
Jin smiles too. She inhales the scent of jasmine, and loses herself in the memories.
"I will be leaving for Masyaf soon. Perhaps tomorrow," she says sadly, "I do not know when the next time we will meet." Wetness drips drown from her nose, and mixes in with the brown, soapy water. There is not even a pause in Yasmin's rhythmic motions. "Do not fret. We will meet again."
The younger girl washes off the remaining soap, and wraps Jin's now gloriously blonde hair in a towel. She twists it deftly to squeeze out remaining wetness.
"What are you going to do about Altair," Yasmin asks conversationally, "Are you just going to concede to that Maria woman?"
"I do not know what else to do…She is carrying his child," Jin replies back listlessly.
"That woman plays dirty…" Yasmin clucks disapprovingly. "So what about you? What leverage do you hold over him?"
"Nothing."
"Exactly."
Jin looks at Yasmin with confusion. "What?"
The younger, shorter woman grips the edges of Jin's towel, and pulls her in closer. Whispering into Jin's ear, Yasmin's words bring about a tiny gasp of revelation.
Yasmin straightens up slowly. Her compelling gaze holds Jin's.
"Remember what I have taught you. We are women, and thus we fight to win."
xxxxxxxxxxxx
He is so close she can lean in and touch him.
But she cannot.
Sometimes their eyes meet, she wants to look away. And not be drawn in those twin pools of amber. A predator's all-knowing gaze .
But she cannot.
And every time he comes into her chambers in the dead of the night, she wants to turn him away, to at least show him a fraction of the pain he has caused.
But she cannot.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
As Jin pack her medical supplies, she pauses as her hand brushes against a brown package. Lifting it to her nose and sniffing it, she recognizes it as cotton root bark and smartweed leaves. Her herbal contraceptives. She mixes them into an infusion and drinks it daily to prevent becoming heavy with child.
Jin tucks in the package with the rest. Then stops. She takes it out and walks over to the window. Yasmin's words from that day still swimming in her head.
It is true that Altair visits her at night. But the encounters are brief. Passionate, but also lacking… something. He does not shed all his clothing. And he never stays the entire night. With a gentle caress of her cheek and a soft farewell, Altair would take his leave and Jin once again finds herself alone in the cold room.
Jin closes her eyes. She recalls those days of blissful ignorance in Masyaf. Of how they lay with tangled limbs within the sheets. The moonlight cradling both of them in her cool embrace, and him whispering tender words into her hair. Back when she believed how she is the only woman in his life.
She can only wonder at what the future might hold. Maria will have his baby. There will always be missions in Acre that he will undertake. He will be traversing back and forth between the two cities. His time always divided. She will be the mistress. The one on the side offering carnal pleasures while the other woman will have his care, his devotion because she bears him children. A successor and a legacy.
"What leverage do you hold over him?"
"Nothing."
Jin sucks in a breath sharply.
"Exactly."
She whispers Yasmin's words to herself as she lets the herbs fall from the window and mingle with the wind.
"Then create a leverage for yourself."
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Masyaf looms in front of the two riders like a monolithic fortress. Warm sunlight beams down upon its stone walls, but Jin still shiver a bit as they pass under the entrance gate.
The entire trip had been silent. Almost identical to the way the had left, but it was no longer tense silence that lays between them. Just a million unspoken questions and teasing anticipation. Jin was surprised that he made no attempt to touch her during the three days. And was a bit disappointed, but she did not dare make the first move.
On the last night of their journey, the air was especially chilly. It was late fall when they arrived at Acre, and now winter was well under way. The woman shivered and pulled the thin travel blankets closer to her huddled form. The dying embers made a faint glow, and she could not make out Altair's sleeping form. All of a sudden, she felt a strong arm wrapped itself around her waist and pulled her against a hard chest. He was deliciously warm, and it she was tempted to turn and bury herself against his chest.
"Sleep," he had murmured quietly. And there was no longer any more movement from him. Jin closed her eyes and savored the warmth of shared body heat, and was lulled to sleep by his heartbeats.
Malik does not look happy, Jin thinks apprehensively as they both step into the office. But then again, he never does.
"Safety and peace, brother," Altair greets warily. Almost as if the elder Dai is a snake preparing to strike.
"Please tell me some good news," Malik wearily says. Altair stays silent, until the older man exhales a sigh. "Very well, proceed with the bad news."
"Henry II has leaked the location of Masyaf to the Templars. Although I could not retrieve their names, I am almost certain an attack will be made on us soon." Here Altair pauses, as if considering his next words. "Malik, the Templars have gone into the shadows, and I believe now is the right time for us to follow suit. Having a base where our enemies can lay siege is too risky. I suggest we leave Masyaf."
Malik stares at him in quiet disbelief.
"Abandon Masyaf! Are you insane?" He snarls. His sole arm makes erratic movements in the air, and Jin unknowingly takes a step back. "This is the fortress in which our founder has established the Brotherhood. This is where we hold all our trade secrets and our sacred knowledge dating back since the beginning! How can you ask the Brotherhood to forsake all of that?"
Altair does not look fazed at his outburst. He replies evenly, "I do realize it is a radical idea. But this is not the first time I have mentioned it and it will not be the last. Please do reconsider."
"And how do you suppose our Brothers will take to the news? To abandon our stronghold and live scattered throughout the lands?" Malik viciously continues. Altair exhales slowly. Jin can tell he is trying hard not to give in to his temper. She places a comforting hand on his arm, a gesture not lost upon Malik's sharp eyes.
"I am only suggesting what I think is the most prudent course of action. However, there are other solutions. This is one of mine. But in your honest opinion, how well do you think our men will fare against a Templar army?"
Malik turns away and start pacing. He looks up, and his dark eyes looks pained. "Not well." He mentally starts counting their numbers and the amount of artillery they have. "If they besiege us, we can last a couple of weeks at the most. We cannot easily defend the town below us, but the fortress can hold strong for at least three months. But at least we will still have our pride and heritage. I know these men. I have walked amongst them enough times to know they would rather die then relinquish Masyaf."
His words deal more damage than expected. Jin sees a muscle jerk in Altair's strong jaw, the only sign he is unnerved.
"Well, then I suggest we begin stocking up for a long winter. It will be a hell of a battle." Altair replies tersely as he walks out of the office, dragging Jin with him.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Greetings Friend,
I have reviewed the documents you sent. You are right in that they are not the right numbers. I have suspicions your good husband may be selling something other than spices.
Please observe him carefully as you have been.
I shall overlook your previous statements. They are too ridiculous to even respond to.
-M
xxxxxxxxxxxx
When the messenger rode into Masyaf, with his horse half-dead in exhaustion and his breath coming in panting gasps, nobody was surprised at the news he brought.
Templars are coming.
The fortress is a bustle with activity. The archers are constantly whittling arrows, the blacksmith forge has a fire that burns into the night, and storage rooms are filling up with provisions. Even Jin finds herself too busy at the infirmary, preparing for an onslaught of patients later on. Medicine, pain killers, bandages, and supplies. She can never have too many of each.
She hardly sees him. He is either too busy training others, checking the placement of the traps set around the fortress, and talking to fellow Brothers of the impending attack. His face is set in a fierce scowl most of the time. His fists tight and clenched at his side. Almost as if he is sending his comrades to their deaths.
Altair is so tightly wound. Like a taut wire over nails, she can almost hear the reverberating dissonance of his thoughts. Jin cannot stand it anymore.
She catches him by himself one evening. He is walking within the Garden, seeking peace and solitude but she intercepts him anyways. Without a word, she takes him by the arm and leads him to her tree.
"Tell him of your troubles," Jin whispers reverently as her hands trace the wooden patterns of the trunk, "and he will always listen."
Altair is solemn. He does not smile at her words, but looks up at the tree seriously. Slowly, his hand, the one without a ring finger, comes to rest at the smooth bark. Altair leans even closer, so that even his forehead is touching the tree.
"Save them." Just two simple words, but it speaks volumes. Jin watches breathlessly as his body undergoes a transformation. From tense rigidity, to an unwinding flow of current. Almost as if he had been flying against the wind, and suddenly readjusted his course.
For the longest time since she can remember, a genuine smile appears on her lips.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
"Please Malik," Jin pleads.
"No." The answer comes back swift and sharp. Malik turns back to his desk, where a daunting stack of letters and inventories await for his attention. Jin sighs, but remains determined.
She walks around the huge table, and stands by his side. His black quill pen makes a furious scribbling noise as he drafts a quick reply to a memo. "Why not? Why must Altair be in the front lines?"
Scritch scratch, the black feather drifts across the paper. Jin sighs and stands even closer. So that eventually his arm brushes against her body every time he starts a new sentence.
Malik snaps. His hand slams down on the unfinished letter, splattering inky blood over the paper. He shoots up in a blink, and pins her with his glare.
"Because he is the best that we have. He himself has made the decision, and nothing I say will sway him!" Indignation burns in his eyes at her nerve, and perhaps at his own susceptibility.
"Malik…" Jin cannot bring herself to speak as the realization hits. She leans forward until her chin rests on his shoulder. With her left arm slightly between his arm resting on the desk, it is as close to an embrace as she ever dares.
"You love him." The words come in soft and tender from her mouth. There is no judgment or scorn from her voice. Understanding and sympathy pours from her like the perfume of jasmine, and it is so sweet he almost chokes. He does not answer her. Instead, he also leans forward. Savors the feel of her feminine body pressing against his, and breathes in her scent. The moment might have been a few minutes. Or an eternity. She cannot tell.
Malik slowly straightens and puts some respectable distance between them. Turning his head slightly, he addresses the shadow that has been watching from behind a column.
"Altair, do you have news for me?"
Notes:
I think the story reached another milestone. There's couple shipping! Lol Oh you readers crack me up… Especially with a random Malik x Maria ship. A fandom within a fandom I would say.
I came sooooo close to converting this story into a slash fic. That would've been interesting. Malik desiring Jin because she has Altair's affections, something he can never attain. That would be a wicked concept, but oh wells. It is brotherly love after all. No need to panic.
So I'm not sure I'm conveying Jin's emotions and motivations clearly enough. Basically, she's desperate, and in love. People can do some ridiculous and petty things just to keep the one they want by their side. Believe me. And no, I'm not advocating women to get pregnant in order to keep a guy. -_-
On a side note, the guy I base Altair off of is back. I am really happy about it, but it's always confusing with him. Looking forward to some inspiration. I did bet a with my friend. If we do hook up, then there will be a parallel ending in the story. If we don't… well then the ending will prolly be quite different. Haha. This should be interesting...
Out of curiosity, how many people who read this are actually guys? And what are the guys' POV on the story overall?
Please, please no spoilers for any recent Assassin's Creed games from Brotherhood and beyond. Haven't had the time to delve into those yet.