UPDATED.
And here is part 2 of Chapter 9. Forgive me for not uploading it earlier; my computer just got repaired today, so I had to share a computer with my parents. Wasn't exactly fun, either. /shrug.
As always, review and tell me what you think.
Cheers to Meadjean and Christina (mostly Christina this time, Meadjean will be leaving for Canada shortly).
All original characters are property of Ubisoft. Everyone else is property of the Age of the Era.
"Don't. You. Dare."
"B-b-but but but... Maria!"
"Leave. It. Alone. Damiel."
"But.. but.. it's.. it's SLIMY!"
"I said: LEAVE IT ALONE." Maria stood a few feet from the boy, staring down at him. He was shaking, partly from disgust, and partly from fear of Maria. He was sitting down on the ground right outside the inn. The two of them needed some fresh air, so they decided to talk a small walk around the village, and when they returned, the boy had screamed when something had jumped from the bushes onto his foot.
"M-M-Maria... it's... it's looking at me, though..." He gulped and stared at her pleadingly. "Can I please kill it?"
"No. You. May not." She glared daggers at him and stooped to his level. She reached out for the animal and cupped it in her hands. "There, there," she cooed.
He stared with a quivering lower lip at her and his eyebrow began to twitch. "That is so... oh, EW!"
Maria placed a soft kiss on the frog's head. She turned her head to the boy and raised an eyebrow. "Well, pardon me for saying 'sorry' to it. You almost killed the poor thing!"
"Only because it jumped on me!"
"That still is not an excuse. He was just minding his own business before you came along and disturbed the peace."
"WHAT? I disturbed the peace? Me? Maria! That... that... thing scared the Hell out of me!"
She rolled her eyes and held the frog closer to her. It stared at her with huge, separated eyes. Its throat puffed in, then out as it ribbited. She gave it a smile and looked at Damiel. "Nonsense, you silly boy!"
"What on Earth is going on out here?" Benjamin swung the inn door open and stepped outside to see his two friends sitting in the dirt. "Come, you two! What is the meaning of this ruckus? And why is Damiel squealing like a girl?"
"A frog attacked me, Benny!"
"It did not! You were in its way when it hopped!"
"WHY ARE YOU DEFENDING A FROG? IT IS AFROG!"
Maria sighed and looked at Benjamin. "I'm just protecting the poor thing from Damiel's idiocy." The veteran laughed and took in the sight before him. Damiel was crawling backwards from Maria and her beloved frog. "Besides," she said as she stood up,"it probably has a family waiting for it somewhere."
"Oh, that's great—" Damiel shrieked when she held the frog but an inch from his face. He scurried away and climbed up the inn's wall and onto the roof in record time. "Oh, God... M-Maria!"
She smirked at him and ran her tongue over the frog's back. Damiel felt the sudden urge to gag and hurl. He closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. Benjamin stood with an amused glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips. Maria gave an impish sneer at Damiel, then turned away from the boy. "Come, Benjamin, let's return our friend to its home, hm?"
The veteran shrugged, gave a quick glance at Damiel, who had his head between his knees as he rocked back and forth in the fetal position. Benjamin breathed out deeply and followed Maria. The woman held the frog delicately in her hand, feeling its quick heartbeat in her palm. She kept a calm. small grin on her face as she walked throughout the town. She was thankful that the sun had already departed and that there were very few villagers out and about. Of course, she saw the occasional couple walking together. She couldn't blame them though; it was a very beautiful night. She peeked at the animal in her cupped hands and walked toward a small pond just outside the village.
Benjamin came to a gentle stop as Maria knelt down by the edge of the water and began whispering to the creature.
"You be a good little frog now," she cooed gently to the frog. "And if you ever come across Damiel again, it'd be wise to avoid him." She placed another kiss on its head and lowered her hands to the ground, allowing the frog to hop along on its merry way. "Farewell, my friend."
Benjamin blinked in silent admiration and amusement from Maria. She was still kneeling down on the ground, watching the frog swim away. After a few minutes, she stood back up and walked past Benjamin, a look of satisfaction etched into her face. He shrugged once more and followed her back to the inn. "Everything alright, Sarah?"
She nodded and slowed her pace down to walk alongside Benjamin. "Everything is fine, don't worry about me." She gave him a reassuring smile, but frowned when she saw Damiel rocking back and forth on top of the inn's rooftop. "Oh, get a grip on yourself, you wet blanket!" She rolled her eyes when the boy whimpered. "I thought I trained you to be a soldier, not a shriveled old lady that lost her wits!"
He slowly raised his head and glared at her. "You... you... licked-"
"Yes, Damiel, I licked a frog. Now, shut up, before I remove your tongue and feed it to Belle." She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a challenging stare. He gulped, but kept his lips sealed as she demanded. She gave a satisfied smirk and made her way back inside of the inn. Unlike Jaffa, this innkeeper wasn't particularly polite. He kept eying the party with squinty little eyes— Damiel in particular. So when Maria entered the inn without Damiel in tow, he gave her a suspicious glare and huddled behind the counter, muttering nonsense to himself. Maria rolled her eyes and proceeded up the stairs to her bedroom. To add to the innkeeper's rudeness, he didn't allow the guests their own rooms, so Maria had to share with Olivia and Zaina. She wasn't thrilled with it, that was for sure, but she was in no mood to argue with the man. After all, you can never win against fools.
Funny how fate seemed to like them.
Maria was about to turn the handle to her room, but decided against it when she heard two people talking. Two familiar, muffled voices sounded from inside the room, and Maria, being devoid of gossip ever since Hildegard's disappearance, decided to make the most of the situation. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, listening to their conversation.
"... I can't, Olivia, I just can't..."
"But little duckling, if you don't, then when will you?"
"I don't know..."
"Aden is out with Belle, no? You have chance right before you..."
Maria frowned. 'What are they talking about?'
"But Damiel, he's... mad.. at me."
Maria smirked, delighted that the conversation was about the boy who was no doubt still blubbering on top of the roof. Benjamin was probably having the time of his life getting him down.
"Pah, nonsense! That fish cannot keep grudge forever, Zaina. No one can. Now, go. Talk to him."
"Oh, Olivia! I can't! I don't feel so good..."
"What is big deal, Zai Zai? You go up to Idiot, you say 'I like you', then you walk away. Why so difficult?"
Maria's eyes flew open and she turned the corners of her mouth down as her jaw went slack in disbelief. 'Good Heavens above! Who in their right mind would wish to be courted by such a dimwit?' She stuck her tongue out in disgust. She had to admit that Damiel was indeed attractive and, given a few more years, would be quite the looker for the ladies. But he lacked one thing—one very important thing: common sense.
"Olivia, you don't understand. You've never had anyone court you before, so... this is really hard for me..."
"Augh, nonsense! If I had someone liking me, I would never be so… spineless as you are being! Zaina, you must have courage!"
"And if Aden finds out?"
"You tell Aden to gag himself."
"But he's my brother..."
"Are you going to let brother boss you around forever?"
"N-no, but..."
"Then we are through with this conversation."
Maria blinked in surprise, still digesting the news. She shook her head and trudged downstairs, her feet thumping against the wood. What a two-faced, backstabbing wench! She walked past Benjamin. He lifted his head from the maps he was going over and arched an eyebrow. She shook her head at him and walked outside. He tilted his head in question at her, but didn't press the matter.
She looked up at the roof. Damiel was still occupying it, but he had his legs dangling down from the side, swinging them back and forth playfully. "Oh, oye, Ria!"
She smiled and gave him a small wave. "Still up there?"
He nodded. "I don't know if you have an army of frogs up your sleeve. I can't be too careful, now can I, no? I'm not coming down anytime soon."
"I figured as much."
He tossed her a boyish smirk and jerked his head to the side. "Betchya can't climb up here."
Maria rolled her eyes. "We both know I was born with 'climbing rooftops' deficiency, Damiel." He laughed from her statement and shrugged innocently.
"How could I forget that?"
She smirked and leaned against the wall. "But, you know what?"
"Hmm?"
"I know something you don't know." She looked up at him and bobbed her head side to side. He beamed down at her and swung his legs impatiently. As expected, a naïve, childlike expression exploded on his face as he swung his legs eagerly back and forth.
"Oooh! What, what?"
"I'm not telling you." She pushed off of the wall and began whistling a cheery tune as she walked away from him.
"Awhh, por qué no?" He jumped from the roof and jogged up beside her. "Come on, Ria, you have to tell me now!"
"Says who?"
"Me, that's who!"
She puckered her lips out in fake thought. "But I don't want to tell you," she whined.
He gawked and stamped his foot. "But you can't just say you know something without telling me!"
"Why not?"
"Because...!" He waved his arms in the air and huffed. "It isn't fair!"
"Who said I was fair?"
He stepped in her way and placed both hands on his hips. "Ria, you aren't being nice, and after your deliberate attempt at my life with that frog, I think you owe me a lick of respecto."
"Who said I was nice?"
"Vaya!" He frowned and pouted like a child. "Why do you always do this to me?"
"Do what?"
"AAAGGHH!" He stomped up and down on the ground. Maria gave an amused smirk as she calmly walked past the tantrum-throwing boy. "Yeah, you just walk away now!"
"I will."
He whimpered and crossed his arms. "I hate you, you know that?"
"I love you too, Damiel."
Hildegard climbed onto Shihad's back once more to resume their travels. She knew that they were travelling in a general northeast direction, though she lacked a map since her satchel was stolen from her.
'I swear, the first thing that I'm going to do once I reach Masyaf is smack the Assassin silly. How dare he make me go through all of this trouble! If he only replied to Maria's letters or followed her to England, I wouldn't be in this mess right now! But, NO, it couldn't be that simple because all men are fools! FOOLS! Gah, why must the male species be so stupid?'
She muttered curses under her breath as she spurred the horse into a gallop. She didn't bother scrounging around the village, asking the villagers for money. She was above that, after all. She was a lady of stature and elegance, not a miserable beggar.
Shihad thundered through the dusty and hot land, clouds of dust spurting from his hooves. Hildegard gritted her teeth and frowned in determination. She only had two more days until she reached Masyaf, and she wasn't looking forward to sleeping with an empty belly during the night. She could handle the hunger during the morning if she distracted her mind enough, but while she was sleeping...
It'd prove to be rather difficult.
So, to distract her from her rumbling stomach, she left this world and ventured into the depths of her mind. 'Where did Shihad come from? Was God watching over me and decided to send me his steed to aid me in my travels? I still don't know what the emblem etched into the saddle is... It's so peculiar, yet so familiar. I think I saw it before in a book. But what does it mean? Is it some sort of faction symbol?' She sighed and gave the horse's mane a tug. 'You, my friend, are causing many questions to arise from nothing, you know that?'
As if he heard her thoughts, he snorted and bobbed his head happily. 'Little devil.'
"So, I take it you are in a good mood?" Malik said as he pulled a chair next to Altair and sat down. "I cannot imagine why else that smirk is on your face. Did you and Bayo have a good time training?"
"Indeed." Altair only wore his shalwars and boots as he sat down at his desk, his legs propped up on the table. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "I believe if that dog bites me in my region one more time-"
"We'll be needing to stitch walnuts in between your legs, is that it?" Malik waved his arm as he chuckled. "Well, you must give credit to the hound. He is very intelligent for an animal."
"I never did say I wasn't giving him credit."
"Arf?" The two men looked down at said hound. He was panting happily next to Altair, wagging his tail back and forth. However, Malik found it very annoying, seeing as how Bayo's tail would whip against his leg.
"..But I am also giving credit to Maria."
Malik scoffed from her name. "Please tell me you've gotten over her, Brother."
"Am I allowed to lie?"
"No."
"Then that is your answer."
The one-armed man sighed and rolled his eyes at his best friend. "Women. Of all the things to finally break you. Women."
He glanced at Bayo. "Do you want the dog to do its business on you again?"
Malik glared darkly at the dog and answered, "If he ever does that again, I'll tie that thing in a knot."
Altair chuckled and crossed his leg over the other. His mood quickly darkened as he eyed the Piece of Eden on the table in front of him. "It has shown me another image, Malik."
"When does it not?"
"It is all so confusing," he said as he rubbed his forehead. "There isn't one correct answer, I do not think. It is as if the Apple is trying to teach us perspective and how there is no right or wrong."
"But, why show this to you? We know that men see things differently-"
"Perhaps it is trying to show us that the Templars and Assassins are the same." He sighed and shook his head. "If that was the case-"
"Then we have no right to be hunting them down. But, they seek to control men's minds for peace, and we seek to find peace by having each man and woman hold hands in a mutual, understanding friendship." He scratched his chin with his hand and looked back at his friend. "What if we have it backward, Brother? What if we, the Assassins, are actually the wrong-doers?"
"Strange how you think that when you are not the one who's been looking into the Apple. That's the question that keeps coming back to me: what if we're wrong?"
"We put faith into our beliefs, though-"
"And what if our beliefs are as fake as Al Mualim? What if we don't really have any faith to support our reasons?"
"What if it is all a lie?"
"Exactly, Malik." He sighed once more and flexed his shoulders. "I do not know if I should lock that relic up for good or keep looking into it. It's shown me very interesting details: so much technology that is unheard of."
"Brother," Malik placed his hand on his shoulder and gave him a serious look,"I think it'd be safe for you to not become addicted to its knowledge. I am not saying never to look into it. Perhaps we should limit it to once a week?"
"Hmm... maybe..."
Bayo looked back and forth between the men. Why were they speaking so serious when only a few minutes beforehand they mood was relatively relaxed? The dog tilted his head to the side and stared at the Piece of Eden.
"Altair, can Bayo sense its power as well?"
Altair nodded and gave a worried glance at Malik. "Meaning that the Templars not only wish to control the minds of men and women-"
"But... every living thing as well? How is that possible?"
"I'm not sure, Malik. Is it even possible to control plants and insects?"
"Maybe... but, for what purpose? What did the trees ever do to the Templars?"
"What did innocents ever do to the Templars?"
Bayo licked his chops and stood on his hind legs as his forelegs rested on the desk. Altair and Malik both looked over at the dog with curiosity. He sniffed the artifact, growled, then knocked it off the table with a buck of his head. The two Assassins immediately stood up, but took a few steps back as it began glowing.
"Altair-!"
"It's..."
"Is that...? Your horse...?"
Altair nodded as he stared into the artifact. The Apple was showing them the same image, apparently. The image was hazy, bands of golden light surrounding the actual picture. But from what the two Assassins could make out, Altair's horse was riding throughout the Kingdom with an unfamiliar woman with cascading golden curls on his back.
"Who is that?"
"I'm not sure."
The hound, however, barked happily and stamped his feet excitedly. Oh, he could hardly wait for the treats and scratches behind his itchy ears!
Altair blinked out of the seductive grasp the Piece of Eden had over him and quickly placed his palm over the object. It immediately stopped glowing, and Malik returned to reality. He blinked, then shook his head. "What was that?"
"I believe it is trying to tell us something."
"Who was the woman, Altair?"
He remained silent as he heard Bayo whimper impatiently. 'Was that... Hildegard...?' He gulped and looked at Malik. "I do not know, but they are only hours from Masyaf."
Malik nodded and began walking out of the study. "I'll double the patrol, tell the guards-"
"No."
"No?"
"She does not mean us harm."
He walked back over to the Master and furrowed his eyebrows together. "How do you know this?"
"I just do." He sighed when Malik stood his ground, not believing one word he said. "Malik, if there was one thing you'd ever trust me with-"
"I've trusted you into leading us to victory before, Brother."
He nodded. "Then trust me with this as well."
"You're going to let that woman waltz right in here? Without telling any of our Brothers?"
He smirked. "If Farug trusts her, I believe we are safe, Malik."
Malik snorted and shook his head. "Oh, great. We're entrusting the safety and future of our Brotherhood in the hands of a horse."
"Hooves, Malik. Horses don't have hands-"
"I was talking about you."
Zaina sighed as she walked. Aden had returned to the inn with Belle, and she was in no mood seeing her brother after what she had confessed to Olivia. She felt awful about her feelings toward Damiel. She didn't know when she had ever felt something other than annoyance toward the boy, but knew that she definitely felt something for him. Why else would her heart take flight just from thinking about him? And when she saw his bare chest while on the boat...
The girl was sad to say that it took all of her strength to tear her eyes away from him. Even if he had scars, and plenty of them, she didn't care. His olive skin was still beautiful and so alluring.
She knew that she should not have been interested in the opposite sex at a time like this. Hildegard was in grave danger, and all she could think of was Damiel? Preposterous!
But...
Damiel was so gorgeous for his age. He had sharp and angular features, yet they were so soft and cheerful. His perfectly straight teeth had such charm to them, and his smile was even more attractive and charming. He was everything that she wanted.
She wrapped her arms around herself as she trudged past the villagers. They gave her most unsettling glares— probably for not wearing a headdress and proper Arabic clothing suitable for women. She sighed and ducked her head low so she wouldn't see the hatred in their eyes.
'What am I going to do? I can't just right out tell him... He'll... he'll think I was a foolish woman.' She pouted and stamped her foot. 'Zaina, you can steal the goods right under a merchant's nose, yet you can't steal the heart of the boy you like. Why am I so pathetic?'
She kicked the dirt as she shoved her hands in her pockets and continued on. 'What if Aden finds out? How will he react? Will he be willing to accept Damiel? I doubt it.' She picked up a stone and tossed it as far as she could. It didn't fly too far, which caused the girl to frown sadly. 'I am so pathetic...'
The guard kept his eyes on the strange girl wandering throughout the village. He pulled out the crumpled parchment from his pocket describing his victim. Short black hair, tanned skin, green eyes, short stubby legs, unusual clothing...
Yes, this was the girl, alright.
He held his hand out and balled it in a fist. The command had two dozen more guards join him from where he was standing. He pointed at the girl with two fingers, then slashed his hand in front of his neck. The guards smirked from underneath their helmets, and then closed in on the girl.
"So, if we take this road right here..." Damiel unraveled Benjamin's map and held it close to his face as he studied it. "...and then follow this squiggly lookin' line..."
Maria sighed and took the map from him. She frowned, looking for the 'squiggly lookin' line', and stared at the boy. "You fool! This squiggly line, Damiel, represents water! We are on horseback! Our horses cannot run on water, dimwit!" She whipped the map back into his hands and grumbled underneath her breath. Benjamin had asked her and Damiel to scout the perimeter of the village out, and that is exactly what they were doing. Their horses were tied to a nearby tree while they strolled through the weeds and dried grass.
Maria turned away from the boy and stepped over a fallen log as she did so. Damiel stuck his tongue out at her and made a face at her back. Frowning, she whipped around, only the boy's face was as innocent as an angel's. She rolled her eyes and jogged past him.
"According to the map," he said as he sauntered over to her. "If we continue in this direction, we should reach a town by the end of tomorrow- if we ride with all haste. But, if we don't..."
"We'll befriend the ground for the night."
"Sí, looks like it." He smirked at her and handed the map back. She took it and double-checked his analysis. Satisfied, she smiled and clasped her hand on his shoulder. He grinned and mimicked her.
"You know, Damiel, you're still that obliviously happy, addlepated boy from the Crusades.""
He chuckled. "I know, Ria. There's still me, you, and Benny, but no Robert. God almighty, that man drove me insane." He let his hand fall back to his side as he placed his hands on his hips and spoke the accent that Robert had. "It was always 'eugh, you stupid boy! Pick up your feet and start marching!', or 'why do I even have you in my army if you cannot even fight with a sword? Eugh, you are despicable!'" He shook his head and stuck his tongue out. "It was always something I did when I hardly did anything wrong. Hmph!"
Maria looked at him with a bored expression, doing her best to hide her amusement. "I don't know, Damiel," she scratched her chin in thought as she tilted her head up. "Could it be the fact that no matter what town or city we visited, we'd find you in the midst of a dozen women, casually sipping wine and ignoring my orders?"
"That was only one time-"
"Or maybe it was the fact that you'd be obliged to climb buildings and jump from house to house, scaring the villagers and townspeople and jeopardizing our cover?"
"Hey, I couldn't help-"
"Or perhaps it's possibly because you used to make faces at Robert's back when he wasn't looking?"
Damiel laughed and crossed his arms, shaking his head. "Hey, Maria, he didn't even know I did that to him."
"Except when Benjamin told him."
"He what?"
"Don't look so surprised, Damiel. Benjamin practically told Robert all of your silly antics." She chuckled when the boy pouted and stamped his foot. She rolled her eyes when he stuck his tongue out at her. "Don't give me that look."
"Then I'll give you this look," he crossed his eyes and grinned widely at her. "Does this suit your tastes?"
She sighed and closed her eyes. She could practically feel the headache threatening to descend upon her. "No, but it suits your face rather nicely."
He gawked and frowned at her. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're ugly."
"Hey! I try my best to look good— you want to know how hard it is to try to stay nice and pretty when you're sweating half the time?"
"Well maybe you shouldn't sweat."
He narrowed his eyes at her and raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you can control your sweat glands, Maria, but I can't. How'd you even manage to stay decent while in the Crusades?"
She twirled her hair around her index finger as she gave him an impish smirk. "You think I looked good while marching?"
"You had a horse, so technically, the horse was marching, not you."
"That changes nothing."
Damiel snorted and tossed his head to the side. "Alright, yes, I thought you looked rather menacing while marching. I mean, come on! Your hair was always being blown in your face, you had this scowl that sort of looked like this," he scrunched his face up and puckered his lips out, "you had the best posture— even if you were experiencing your monthly curse— and your eyes were always ahead of you. You never fidgeted; you never complained about the blasted heat that the good ol' sun tortured us with. You were just the definition of a soldier." He chuckled, adding in, "Even if your breast bands would come undone now and then..."
"They what?" She frowned at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "You filthy, pig-headed stupid boy."
Damiel shrugged innocently and smirked. "Hey, I'm a male, I can't help it!"
"Control your testosterone, dammit."
"Again, I have no control over hormones either, Ria."
She spat on the ground and walked away from him. "May your balls become infested with warts and penis turn into a leech."
He howled in laughter and jogged over to her. "Awh, come on, Maria, where's your-"
"Did you hear something?"
He shrugged. "No, what was it?"
She held her hand up at him and narrowed her eyes. "It sounded like—"
"Maybe the frog found a new victim," he huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I told you to kill it.."
"No, listen." She silenced him again as they both stared up at the sky. Damiel knitted his eyebrows in concentration, and sure enough, he heard a high-pitched, almost screech, in the distance. He shrugged, not thinking it a big deal.
"So? People scream every day, Maria."
"I think... I think we should go back."
He snorted and smirked at her. "Why, you think that the others are in danger? Maria, they can handle themselves."
"I just... I have a bad feeling about this, Damiel."
"You're over-thinking it—" But before he could finish his thought, Maria was already saddled up onto her horse and digging her heels into its sides. He sighed, climbed up onto his steed, and did the same.
Maria galloped closer and closer back to the village, but abruptly pulled her horse to a stop and raised her hand for Damiel to do the same. He tugged on the reins and looked over at her, a small frown on his face. The woman narrowed her eyes down and motioned for Damiel to follow her. She led him to a small hill overseeing the village. It wasn't drastically far away, but it had enough elevation for them to see without being seen. She swung out of the saddle and fell to the ground, blending in as best as she could. Damiel did the same.
"Maria," he whispered, "what's going on?"
"Shh." She glared at him, but turned her head back to the village. What she saw mortified her completely.
"ADEN!" Zaina screeched as a guard ran toward her and grabbed her arm, his free hand bringing the blade closer to her throat. "ADEN, HELP ME!" The other men surrounded her, unsheathing their swords and waiting for her brother. Tears stained Zaina's face as seconds past by without her brother arriving. The guards chuckled from her useless attempt at trying to free herself. The man that had her arm in his steel grip held her tighter and twisted the skin on her arm. She cried out in pain, but soon smiled in joy as she saw her brother and Olivia sprinting toward her.
Aden unsheathed both of his short swords and immediately took action. He swung his blades at the nearest guard while Olivia knocked an arrow and fired. It landed perfectly into the left side of one of the guard's chest plate, piercing through the armor and his flesh. He cried out, but slumped to the ground as blood poured from the wound.
Aden sliced across one of the guard's neck, but sharply turned around when he heard Olivia grunt in pain.
More guards had come from behind them and one of them had slammed the hilt of their sword on the back of the archer's head. She shrieked when he turned her around to punch her in the face. He hit her square in the nose, and she stumbled backward from the blow. Blood slowly started seeping out of her nostrils, and she soon gasped as the guard's boot slammed into her ribs. The breath was knocked from her and she fell backward, the guard taking the opportunity to slam his feet into her sides multiple times.
Aden growled and ran to assist his friend, but heard his sister gasp as the guard holding her slammed his fist into her stomach. Spit flew from her mouth, and she crumpled over.
The Arabic man was torn in half. Part of him needed to help Olivia— that man was relentless and continued to abuse her ribs and sides. On the other hand, Zaina was being surrounded by men. His brotherly instincts kicked in; it was his sister practically being assaulted! He snarled and turned on his heel and smashed his blades against the guards. Zaina came before Olivia, he was sure of that. He was sure that his friend would understand.
However, he stopped when he felt the stinging cold steel of a sword slash across his back. He spun around, only to have a fist sail straight at his face. He grunted from the blow and was about to leap back into action when one of the guards clicked their tongue.
He looked over to what the man was sneering at. He held a blade to Olivia's throat, ready to slice the flesh. The woman stared at him with huge bluegreen eyes, her face pale white. He'd have thought her dead if her chest wasn't trembling in fear and horror.
"One more move, Arab," the guard said with narrowed eyes, "and the woman's life ends." Aden growled and stood still. Amusement flashed in the guard's eyes. "Drop your swords."
Aden slowly uncurled his fingers from the hilt of his sword. He watched silently as the shortswords fell to the dirt, two soft thuds sounding from the contact. The other men laughed at the defeated man. Aden turned his head to glare his worst at them, but was shoved to the ground. Zaina watched with hot tears in her eyes as her brother was beaten, the wound in his back deepening from the men tearing at it. He hissed through his teeth and would have most certainly loved to teach the men a lesson or two. But Olivia's life counted on his actions.
The archer closed her eyes and shook her head. The guard smirked victoriously and picked the woman up. He motioned for his men to do the same to Zaina. She hissed at them and struggled, but soon quieted down when they each slammed a fist into her stomach.
Aden looked at his sister with a pained expression. He mouthed the words 'I'm sorry' as one of the guards gave a sharp blow to the back of his head. His eyes rolled back and his vision became clouded with the dark unknown as the men dragged him out of the village and onto horses.
Maria shook her head in disbelief from seeing her comrades being hauled up onto horses. She and Damiel both saw the cuts and gash on Aden's back, his blood darkening his light tunic. However, what was more interesting but not more surprising was the emblem on the guards' uniforms.
"Templars," Damiel hissed.
'How could this have happened? Where was Benjamin?' She glanced at Damiel and stifled back a groan. His brow was knitted together severely, the veins in his forehead protruding. He was sweating, his face turning a light shade of red, and his nostrils flared with anger at what he saw. 'Please, don't do anything stupid...'
But, he was still a boy, unable to comprehend situations. He sprang forward, but soon met the ground face first as Maria pounced on him. She hissed in his ear, "Don't. They might hurt them."
He huffed and tried to wiggle free, but stopped when he saw Olivia turn her head in their direction. The German gave a firm shake of her head and mouthed the word 'no'.
Damiel blinked and stared helplessly. His friends were being taken away to God knew where and he couldn't do anything about it, and they didn't even want him to try to help. Maria felt him relax from underneath herself and rolled off of him once the guards had gotten onto their horses and ridden off. Damiel slowly got to his feet and looked at her.
"Maria, w-what..."
"I don't know, Damiel."
"Where's Benny?" he said urgently. "He wasn't one of the captives. Where is he?"
Maria shook her head. "I don't know, Damiel, I don't know."
"We have to go back into the village and look-"
"No. If the guards captured those three, then no doubt they're looking for us, Damiel. We have to continue on to Acre."
He gasped and looked absolutely appalled at what she said. "But, Maria-"
"Just listen to me, Damiel," she spat at him. "I am not ordering you as a member of the Rose or as a friend— I am ordering you to continue on with me as your superior."
He balled his hands into fists but gave a firm nod. She walked away from him and got back onto her horse. She trotted up to him and looked down at him expectantly. He sighed and shook his head, but pulled himself up in the saddle and followed her as she galloped away from the village, abandoning their friends.
"Master! Master Altair!" The novice ran throughout the fortress as fast as he could, looking for the Leader of Assassins. He was not in his study, nor his room, nor the baths, nor the library. Where in Allah's name was the man? "MASTER ALTAIR!"
The other Assassins and guards looked at the boy curiously, wondering why he would bellow for their Master in such a way.
"...so, you do not like kibbeh?"
"No, Malik, I do not like kibbeh."
"But it is such a delicious and common food amongst Arabs!"
"Malik. I do not. Like. Kibbeh."
Master and best friend were walking back into the fortress with Bayo happily walking next to him. They had just returned from the marketplace, having purchased kibbeh. Malik absolutely loved the food, while Altair preferred his pita bread and feta cheese. Bayo would have most certainly have loved to taste both foods, but he was not allowed to. He'd live, though.
The two men both turned their heads up as they witnessed a novice running as fast as possible down the stairs, miss a step, and tumble down into the training courtyard. Both Assassins looked at each other, then back at the boy.
"Is he one of yours?"
Malik sighed. "I'm afraid so."
Altair nodded and stood still as the boy recovered and ran over to him.
"MASTER ALTAIR!" He would have surely collided with Altair, had it not been for Malik reaching out to stop him. "Master... Alta...ir..."
"Yes? Be out with it, what is it?"
The novice gulped and shook himself free of his fatigue. "There's a woman, sir! At the post just outside of Masyaf! She claims to have an appointment with you, Master!"
"Appointment?" Malik turned his head and raised an eyebrow at Altair. "You were expecting her from the very beginning?"
Altair didn't answer his question. "Let her pass the post, but let her be-"
"Our Brothers do not trust her, Master!"
He sighed and gently gripped the boy's shoulder. "Let me finish, child. Tell my men to keep her at the post for another hour. That gives us enough time to prepare ourselves." The novice nodded and dashed off to tell the other Assassins the news. Altair looked over at Malik and smirked. "And you, Malik..."
He groaned and placed his hand on his hip. "I have a very bad feeling about this..."
"You will do well to entertain our guest while I ready our men." He nodded at Malik and brushed past him. His best friend shook his head and sighed.
"It's always me that gets the ridiculous tasks..." He narrowed his eyes and straightened his back in determination. "No matter; once this is over, I'll be sure to have Bayo rip his manhood off."
Altair walked briskly throughout the fortress, waving his hand to motion some of his best men over to him. They obediently sidled over and walked parallel to him as he searched every room for the desired Assassins. The Master walked ahead of them and entered his own chambers, and the Assassins stood at the door politely, their hands clasped behind their back and heads bent downward. He searched through the papers on his desk until he found the letter from Hildegard. He snatched it off of the pile and tucked it into one of his pouches. The Assassins parted out of respect as Altair walked out of his door and down the steps. They followed him and remained silent, waiting for their Master to inform them on what was happening.
After several minutes of silence as he gathered the last of his best Hashashin, he finally spoke. "There is a woman being held at our post outside of Masyaf," he quickened his pace when novices began giving the group of Assassins curious stares, wondering what was happening, "and I do not know if she is friend or enemy."
"Will you have us posted in the fortress, Master?" one of them asked, glancing back and forth between the Assassins and the Leader.
"No," Altair said without a moment's hesitation. "My concern is with the people of Masyaf. I want all of you to distribute yourself amongst the people. Remember our Creed, protect the citizens. I am not concerned with myself."
They nodded, and with a wave of his hand, they left the fortress to do as they were told. Altair sighed once they were gone and pursed his lips together. He whistled, and no sooner had the sound escaped his lips had Bayo arrived. The dog happily ran up to him and sat down next to his master's feet obediently. Altair smirked and scratched the dog between his ears before walking off. Bayo remained where he was, and the man soon reappeared with a bit of raw meat in his hands. Bayo's ears perked up, and his jaws clamped down on the meat once the Assassin threw it in the air for the dog to catch.
"Now, then, Bayo," he knelt down in front of the dog and cupped the dog's mouth. "Let's just see if she is who she says herself to be."
Bayo barked and gave a nod of his head in understanding.
"I told you, already. My name is Hildegard, I've business with your Master that does not require his ilk to question me!"
"How do you know of our Master?"
Hildegard groaned and rolled her eyes. She'd been at this post for almost an hour now, and the men wearing white robes with hoods covering their faces had been asking her the same group of questions over and over again. Was it honestly that hard to understand her purpose? "I know of him from a friend."
They glanced at one another and gave brief shakes of their heads. "That does not persuade us to trust you, woman."
"Listen, pal." Hildegard stormed over to the man and punctuated each word with a sharp jab of her index finger in his chest. "I just spent three or four days riding to reach a God forsaken fortress. I haven't had a proper bed, or food, or clothes for that long. On top of that, I was hounded by some foolish and pathetic farm boy, had my belongings stolen from me as well as my money, and was dragged around for the past day by a blasted horse! The least you.. gentlemen could do is allow me to pass to complete my mission." She glared at them and flicked a stray strand of her wild blond hair out of her face. "Unless you Assassins were never taught manners."
All of the men remained silent until one of them grunted and turned his head to look up at the tower to their right. It was a vantage point, that much Hildegard knew, with several men at the very top of it with bows and arrows strapped to their backs. They waved down at them, and the man that she presumed to be the leader of this small band of men nodded at Hildegard. "Come," he said.
She narrowed her eyes and shrugged free of the men gripping her arms to guide her to their fortress. She scoffed at them and held her head high. Shihad was following behind, whinnying happily. Honestly, Hildegard had no idea where she was the night before. She was lost and desperate, so she allowed the horse to lead her to Masyaf. And it had led her to Masyaf, alright, she was certain of that. What other city had suspicious figures keeping guard outside?
She walked with the dignity of royalty as she was led up a rocky path with a few men in front of her and even more tailing behind her. They all kept their backs straight, their heads raised elegantly, and their gait smooth and controlled. It wasn't anything like the Englishmen back in London that walked with a slouch and forced their feet in front of the other. No, these men were poised and trained to have finesse. She admired them greatly.
Hildegard couldn't help but be reminded of Aden with the way they moved.
Her eyes widened when she arrived at the gates. They were wooden, yet they looked as if they could withstand army after army. There were men posted outside of the gates. They narrowed their eyes at Hildegard, but said nothing as she and her escorts past through. She was even more amazed by what she saw.
It wasn't just a fortress, oh no. It was a true city with huts and houses scattered about. The alignment seemed a bit messy, but it was beautiful nonetheless. There was a small fountain right in front of the gates that sprinkled water and children were playing in it. They splashed each other and ran around, squealing out of delight and surprise as their friends threw handfuls of water at them. Hildegard smiled from the sight. Children always had a way of adding charm to cities.
The blonde beauty was led throughout the town. They walked up yet another hill. She couldn't help but notice that the villagers were giving her quizzical looks. What was an Englishwoman- a Christian- doing here? And why was she not wearing proper Arabic clothing? Had she no shame?
She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at a woman that was frowning and shaking her head at her. 'If you knew what I've been through, then you'd most certainly show some respect.'
The men in front of her glanced behind them to look at the woman. They quickly turned their heads back when she glared at them. Hildegard smirked despite herself.
They finally stopped in front of an iron gate and her escorts bowed down at the man in front of them. She recoiled her head in confusion. This was the Grandmaster of the Assassins?
'This... this... this CRIPPLE, this pathetic excuse of a man is the one that Maria tumbled head over heels for? Oh, God, I need to speak to her about her tastes in men...' She remained stoic and devoid of emotion as the man in front of her scanned her. He narrowed his eyes, clearly not amused with what he saw. Well, neither was she. She expected a broad, intimidating figure that gave off the aura of power and superiority. She pictured a man that was nearly clothed in weaponry, his hand at the hilt of his sword, ready to cut down any-
'I expected a man with TWO arms...'
He cleared his throat and a handful of her escorts immediately stood up and walked behind her to lead Shihad back to the stables. The other men waited patiently for their orders.
His voice was deep and raspy, as if his lips had not touched water in a year. "What is your business here?"
"I have come to speak with your Master." Hildegard narrowed her eyes at him and mimicked his expression. If he was going to be rude to her, then she would be rude to him. "Your men had already asked me that question about, oh, say ten times?"
His frown deepened. "You should be impressed with our discipline and caution."
"Oh, I'm impressed alright," she snorted. She crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her shoulders casually. "If you are the Master of the Assassins, then I'd say that I am entirely in awe."
His nostrils flared slightly from her remark, but he quickly composed himself. "I see. So, you say you seek an audience with our Master, yet you do not know him. I conclude that you are either lost and confused, or that you are an enemy. Or perhaps, you are both."
"And I conclude that you are either an idiot or lacking the bollocks to let me pass."
He tilted his head arrogantly to the side and looked down at her. "Since when do men need balls to have brains?"
"Ever since they began thinking with them."
The escorts each gave a cough and looked back and forth between the woman and the man uneasily. This wasn't looking good for either of them.
"What is your name, woman?"
"Hildegard. And yours, cripple?"
He remained silent and smirked at her. "Come. The Master wishes to see you." He turned away and walked into the courtyard. She rolled her eyes, but followed him. He walked up a set of stone stairs and nodded to the occasional novice walking past him to complete their tasks. Hildegard glanced side to side, taking in what she saw. The courtyard was a training arena with a ring in the middle of it. The shouts of men could be heard even when she entered the fortress and was led up yet another flight of stairs. Finally, her rude escort stopped and gave a small bow to the man sitting at the desk before her. "Master Altair, she is here."
'Altair? The name sounds familiar... Perhaps Maria mentioned him by name before?'
The Master of Assassins looked up from his desk and gave a grim and unnerving smile at the woman.
"Sit." He waved his hand to a seat in front of his desk. Hildegard gulped. She eyed the man nervously, as if he would lash out at her at any given moment. He was tense, she could tell by the way his arms were slightly hunched, ready to leap into action and kill her. And that smile of his only made matters worse. There were hardly any lines near his mouth, so smiling wasn't exactly something this man did often. She took a deep breath to brace herself for whatever may come, and helped herself to the chair. Chills travelled up and down her spine as she sat for what seemed an eternity in silence. She felt like a rat cornered by a snake. He was the cobra that was slowly tightening its hold on her, choking the life out of her. He had merely said one word and already she was losing her spirits. She wrung her hands together nervously, keeping her eyes down.
'To Hell with what he looks like, Hildegard! This bastard left Maria, and you've a mission still to complete. Give him what he deserves.'
With this new statement of energy, she let her eyes roam over him. Although he was sitting down, she could tell that he had lengthy legs and was a tall man— much like Aden, but Aden was much, much broader. But the man in front of her was everything she imagined Maria's lover to be. He had a sense of knowledge and patience, yet there was something about the way he had his right hand resting on his left hand that was missing a ring finger that told her he had taken many, many lives before, and he wouldn't hold back from adding hers to the collection. No wonder Maria was interested in him.
"You are Hildegard, I presume?" He spoke English, yet his accent was clear as day, his tongue rolling off of the 'l' and flicking off of the 'r' of her name. His voice was deep and smooth, yet as harsh as knives. She nodded and remained silent. "Do you remember what day you told me you'd be arriving at Masyaf in your letter?" Annoyance. Clearly, annoyance, and something else. Was it desperation? Anticipation?
"What letter?" The one-armed man raised an eyebrow in interest and walked over to him. "Altair, you never told me you received a letter from this woman."
Hildegard guessed that when the Master of Assassins turned his hooded head over to his ally that he was glaring death itself at him. She raised an eyebrow at the Leader. "Keeping secrets from your own people," she murmured, keeping her voice down. "Oh yes, that's... that's very nice and trustworthy..."
Both men turned their attention back to the woman. Altair swallowed and composed himself. "Answer my quest-"
"Tuesday. I said I'd arrive Tuesday. Now, do be quiet for me to explain my tardiness, would you?" Hildegard grinned triumphantly at him as he set his mouth in a straight and humorless line, disapproving of her behavior. She knew she should have at least shown some manners— after all, he didn't kill her yet, but she decided against it. She had gone through too much on her journey to Masyaf to be a meek kitten that ate from someone's palm outstretched toward her. "Thank you. I was indeed meant to arrive Tuesday, but I met certain unfortunate events. Like I had explained to your men posted outside of this city— Masyaf, is it?— I was held captive for one day by a man infatuated with me." She glared at the other man when he grunted in amusement. Surely no one would become attracted to such a woman as she?
"Pardon my rudeness, woman," he said. "But I find that hard to believe when you are in such a condition. Dirty hair, dirty face, dirty clothes..." he clicked his tongue in disapproval and shook his head.
"Let her finish, Malik," Altair said with narrowed eyes underneath his hood.
Hildegard rolled her eyes. "I had my purse stolen from me— not once, but twice, as well as my belongings. I became lost, but luckily for me, my horse seemed to know the way to Masyaf." She sat back in her chair and raised her legs so that her feet rested on his desk. She smirked smugly. "Satisfied?"
Altair lowered his head in disgust at her behavior, but said nothing of it. Malik, on the other hand, looked like he was about to strangle the woman for showing such disrespect toward the Master. The Leader cleared his throat. "Ah, yes, Farug ran away about a week ago, as I was-"
"Farug?"
"The horse."
Hildegard frowned and raised an eyebrow. "You mean Shihad? He belongs to Assassins?"
Altair tilted his head to the side. "'Shihad'? Is that what you've been calling him? But to answer your question, yes, he belongs to Assassins— to put it in more detail, he is my horse." His voice reeked of ownership and possession over the beast, as if he was accusing Hildegard of stealing him.
"Ah," Hildegard said, ignoring his tone of voice. She twiddled her thumbs and flipped her hair behind her shoulders. "That answers why there was a strange emblem on his saddle and how he knew the way to Masyaf." She smirked and shook her head at nothing in particular. Of all the people that that horse had to belong to...
"Indeed."
Malik rolled his eyes. "You still have not told us about why you are here-"
"Patience, Malik, patience. One must be very slow for the lower class, Brother."
The woman clenched her fist and narrowed her eyes from the insult. "I suppose I didn't answer that question. At least not completely," she hissed at both men.
He raised his hand in the air and gave a victorious smile at Altair. "See, Brother? I knew it; she was up to no good from the start."
"I'm here on behalf of the Order of the Rose, and more importantly, to discuss someone we both know," Hildegard turned her head to look at Altair. "Maria Thorpe." Altair's breath hitched in his throat from hearing her name spoken so casually, and Hildegard did not pretend she didn't hear it. "Ah, so familiar with her, are we?" She smirked once more and began fiddling with the quill on his desk. "Strange to see such a reaction from you, I must say," she mused as she twirled the object around with her fingers. "Seeing as how you failed to show any sign of concern over the past year..."
Malik groaned and placed his hand on his hip. "Is this why this woman is here? To discuss that woman?"
Altair tilted his chin arrogantly and glowered at her, his hold on the rat becoming tighter. "I'm afraid that you do not understand, Hildegard."
"Understand what?" She stood from the chair slowly and breathed in to control her anger not only from his sign of dominance, but also from the fact that he'd dare deny it! "I do not understand that you abandoned her? That you did not chase after her or that you did not care enough to take responsibility for the son she gave you?"
"She what?" Malik stared at Altair, his jaw slightly slack. "She... she gave you a son?" Altair glared at Hildegard from underneath his hood, but swallowed the anger back. He repeated the tenets of the Creed inside his mind. He would stay his blade from an innocent, and if it meant staying his emotions from Hildegard, who, unfortunately for him, was an innocent, he would do so. If it meant hiding his true feelings in plain sight so that Hildegard would not thrive off of mocking him, he would do so. He would not compromise himself by subjecting to her ridicule.
The Master of Assassins rose from his chair and towered over Hildegard, taking some enjoyment when she took a nervous step back. He tilted his head just enough for his hood to expose shadowed eyes that sent chills up and down her spine. "You do not understand," he began as he fought the urge to snarl at her, "that Maria holds a very important and dear position to me." He frowned and growled, "That woman has learned many of the Assassin's secrets, and I do not trust that information with just anyone, Hildegard. Perhaps you should consider the fact that there were complications- and too many of them," he stole a glimpse at Malik and his frown deepened from the sight of him, "for me to drop everything that's been occupying me for the past year to give chase to a woman that left me."
"Oh, of course she left you! And I wonder why, seeing as how you-"
"ENOUGH." He slammed his fist onto the table and bared his teeth at Hildegard. She cowered and took yet another step back, gulping. "You will not speak of me or Maria in such a manner, woman. And you will refrain from using these accusations to bolster a confidence that you clearly lack, and you will do well to keep in mind the respect that we both share for our topic of conversation." His voice resonated around the room, surrounding the woman with its vicious tone.
'No, not a snake,' Hildegard thought. 'But an eagle digging his talons into me, the eagle's snack.'
"Altair," Malik said in a warning tone. He glanced at his Master and then at Hildegard, giving a subtle shake of his head.
She swallowed back her fear and stood straight and tall. "I do not believe you." She placed both hands on her hips and looked unconvinced at him. "You are nothing more than a foolish man, Altair." She spat on the floor and narrowed her eyes at him. Malik looked absolutely on the verge of slitting her throat. The other man dug his nails into the wood, his knuckles turning white. She cleared her throat and continued on in a much louder and serious voice, "You have not seen the condition she is in because of YOU! You are not the one who had to comfort her and prevent her from killing herself due to the absence of you in her life. You did not have to watch her give birth to a dead son! You have no idea what the Rose has been through over the past year BECAUSE OF YOU!"
"And what gives you the right to speak to me in such a way? Here you are: a sheep amongst wolves in our fortress. If needed, I will remove your tongue and keep it as a trophy that'd hang above my bedpost as a sign that I silenced the bitch that spoke with such an ill tone," he hissed at her, the corner of his mouth curling up, baring his teeth. She visually shrank from the poison laced together with his words as well as his penetrating monotone voice and wrapped her arms around herself.
He licked his lips and breathed in heavily. "I take full responsibility for her current status, and I regret it greatly," he said through gritted teeth. He exhaled, his patience running thin as his body shook with the need to spill this woman's blood. "I would also regret bringing harm to you: a woman that has no business meddling in an Assassin's affairs. As Grandmaster, I'd be obliged protecting my Order from the likes of you."
She smirked at him, but soon her eyes widened in shock. In a heartbeat, he had sprung over to her and had his hidden blade unsheathed and pointed at her throat. "Consider your next words carefully, woman."
After a brief moment of staring at the cold metal pressed up against her throat in shock, Hildegard scoffed and shook her head in annoyance. "If you think that I'm so meek as to give up my plight from a threat, you're mistaken. I care too much for Maria to abandon my reasons for being here." She tilted her chin and looked him directly in the eye, hiding her fear under a mask of indifference. "And also, you regret nothing because you do not care. You are an Assassin, trained to not care for who you murder. Well, let me tell you something," she lowered her voice as her eyes gleamed with hatred, "she might as well be dead with how she's been over the past year. The only person you have to blame is yourself. And I do hope that you choose to contemplate your actions and atone for what you've done— or better yet, go to confession."
Altair clenched his hands into fists and inhaled greatly to compose himself. The woman decided to try his patience once more before leaving. "And perhaps you should consider your next words carefully, boy."
The Master of Assassins merely smirked coldly from her remark. He was through with raising his voice at her. If she was going to insult him and not hear him through, then he would be the total ass that she expected him to be and give her a taste of her own medicine. He removed his blade from her throat. "I'm afraid boys are not capable of impregnating women, Hildegard."
She bit her lower lip and trembled in anger and turned to look at Malik. "If you'd be so kind to show me to my room," she demanded from the man. She stared him down with a frightening glare, challenging the cripple to protest.
Malik looked at Altair for objection, but the Leader showed no sign of raising argument. How dare that woman order one of his own men in such a way- and Malik to be more precise! And just when he had thought he had his anger under control! Altair kept his face as emotionless as a rock and as hard as steel as he stared at the woman. Thankful for his hood shielding the glare full of hatred and loathing, he remained still. Malik sighed, mumbled for Hildegard to follow him, and left Altair's study.
'Why didn't you tear him to shreds like you've been planning all along?' Hildegard fumed in her mind as she followed the crippled man through the fortress. She had never felt so angry in her entire life- not even when her brother had killed her parents, or when she was abandoned for the second time and resorted to keeping men's beds warm just to live. The feeling of heat and hatred built up inside of her. 'How could that man claim to have feelings for Maria when he made no effort to even see her? Damn him! Damn it all!'
She looked down at her feet while she walked. She had completed her mission; she had reached Masyaf. But would she be able to talk to Altair while keeping her anger at bay? She could tell that there was a great deal of patience buried under his Assassin instincts, yet everyone's patience dwindled and expired eventually. Would she say something that would make him completely blind and furious and attack her— again? She was terrified when she felt the cold steel of his blade against her throat. She could put up a decent fight if she needed to, but he was an Assassin, and the Master of Assassins. She'd be dead in a heartbeat.
Malik stopped in front of a door and gave a small nod. "Perhaps you and the Master should attempt conversation again when you are both calmer."
Hildegard snorted and pushed the door open. "You're one to talk about remaining calm," she walked in the room and before the man could say another word, she slammed it shut in his face. She sighed, relieved, when she heard his retreating footsteps. She glanced around the room. What she saw caused her to smile.
She expected to be placed in a cell—she was sure that Malik would have loved to throw her in the dungeon. But, instead, he had given her a modest bedroom that was sparsely decorated. Just a bed, mirror, window and dresser, nothing more. She didn't mind though. The bed looked absolutely lovely and inviting to the woman after sleeping on the ground for what seemed an eternity. But she couldn't rest yet. Instead, she made her way to the window, opened it, and began climbing down the side of the fortress. What she really needed was a bath. And she'd turn Masyaf upside down if it meant finding the bathhouse.
"Altair, my Brother, is it wise for her to even be here?" Malik sighed and sat down next to his friend at the desk. Altair was staring hard at the wood, his hood down and his face set into a serious expression. He breathed in and out, his nostrils flaring as he did so. It was as if he was trying to burn the table with his eyes. After several moments and the Master visually settling down, Malik continued, "I mean, she was so... brash and rude to us..."
He grunted and closed his eyes. "Be sure the bath maids tend to her and that a meal is prepared for her." He sighed when he heard Malik click his tongue. "She is our guest, Malik. I admit, I despise her greatly and I wish to have plunged my hidden blade in her throat and watch the light drain from her eyes. I would have taken plenty of pleasure to see her blood leave her body. However, even Assassins have manners. And even though you do not like the reason why she is here-"
"I wish you would have told me."
"So that you could not only burn Maria's letters, but Hildegard's as well?" he snorted.
"If I knew that she'd be arriving to Masyaf, I would have informed you-"
"Malik?"
"Yes?"
"Did you ever read any of Maria's letters?" Altair opened his eyes to look at his friend. His eyebrows were knitted together and his mouth was pursed. Malik sighed and nodded. "What did they say?"
"I didn't read all of them, just browsed through some of them. But from what I read, she seemed extremely lonely. More than once the word 'betrayal' appeared on the paper, Altair. Though, I'll be honest, I felt overjoyed when I read how deprived she felt."
"I see." Altair sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not going to be easy negotiating with Hildegard."
"You can always tie her up," Malik mused and a sly grin slowly spread across his face. "Forgive me for speaking so outwardly, but she is a bitch, Altair. A bitch."
"Can you blame her? She and Maria are obviously very close, else she would not have made the journey from England to Masyaf."
"Just out of curiosity, Brother," Malik said as he drummed his fingers against the table, "what would you do if Maria was to reenter your life?"
Altair chuckled and shook his head, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand. "I'll be quite honest, Malik. I have no idea."
"You would not court her?"
He closed his eyes. "Something tells me she would not like that very much."
"Yet you'd seduce her and-"
"I did not seduce her, Malik," he chuckled once more. "We both fell in love with the other."
Malik scoffed and recoiled his head back in disgust. "Eugh, love. It still surprises me that you'd fall in love. You. You're really not the same person that went into Solomon's Temple with me in Jerusalem."
Altair lowered his head and looked hurt. "I am sorry about that, Malik," he said softly.
Malik waved his hand in dismissal and rolled his eyes. "What's done is done, Brother. Don't bother looking back into it. Instead, think about what we're going to do now— think about what your questions for Hildegard will be. I'm sure you have many."
"Ahh, yes. First and foremost is to learn what this 'Order of the Rose' actually is. She gave a brief description about the faction in her letter, yet she didn't dwell on the matter. I should—"
"Altair. Honest to God. We both know that the first thing you want to ask the woman about is Maria. So, think of things you would like to know about your sweetheart." Malik laughed and stood up from his chair. "Meanwhile, while you're doing that, I'll be with Bayo teaching him how to bite you in the groin over and over again. Good day, novice."
Maria's head bobbed side to side as she drifted off into sleep. Damiel was behind her in the saddle, his own horse tethered to Maria's. He didn't argue when she had asked him to lead the way to let her sleep. He kept his arms at her side as he held the reins, occasionally looking at her sleeping face. It seemed so strange to him. This woman always seemed to be ready to put up a fight, always seemed eager to prove others wrong for her pride's sake. Yet, as he looked at how peaceful she was with her eyelids pressed gently closed, he couldn't help but think she was absolutely the most lovely creature he'd ever seen.
He couldn't help but let his lips gently brush against hers.
She frowned slightly in her sleep, but soon settled down. He turned his head to the side and closed his eyes. 'What the Hell am I doing?' He shook his head and ground his teeth together. 'This is Maria, Damiel! She'd skin you if she knew what you just did.' But how was he supposed to barricade his affection for the woman? How was he to tell himself that he couldn't have her when no other man did? Her Assassin was practically non-existing, that much he knew, and she had said she wasn't interested in any other man. But what if he could convince her otherwise?
Yes, she had six more years to her life than he did, but would it really matter? Love didn't depend on age, did it?
Damiel sighed and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. 'No, Damiel, stop it. You've much more important things to worry about. What of Aden, Zaina, and Olivia? Where were they? Where was Benjamin? Why wasn't he captured? Was he dead? Did he escape? Was he in hiding? Dammit! Dammit all to Hell!' He urged the horse into a faster gallop. He knew that the sudden jerk of the horse's gait would have woken Maria up, but he didn't care at the moment. He had to get to Acre and soon. The Templars were probably following them— or worse, waiting for them at their destination.
"Shh, be quiet, John! You'll get us caught!"
"What do you mean? This is Doctor Foo we're talking about, Maria! He's too old to hear us!"
"That isn't true! He has the ears of a hound and eyes like a hawk! He'll hear—"
"I am not that old, Jonathan Thorpe. But, more importantly, what are you two doing up this late an hour?"
The two children stared at their feet in guilt. They had snuck out of their beds to pay a surprise visit to their tutor, Doctor Foo. However, John Thorpe had thought that the good Doctor would have been asleep. They had been spying on the middle-aged man from behind bookshelves in his library, watching him bury his nose into yet another novel.
Maria did what she thought would have surely saved herself from being blamed on the matter. "It was all John's idea, I promise!" she stuttered, crossing her arms and shaking her head at her relative. "You're going to get it now, John."
He gawked and looked back and forth between their tutor and Maria. "N-n-no it wasn't! Maria told me to get out of bed so that we can visit you!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did NOT!"
"Did TOO!"
"Enough, enough!" Doctor Foo chuckled and gently took each child by their hands as he led them to his desk. There was a single candle lighting the room up. "Do your parents know you're here?"
"No," they both said with shifting eyes. "They think we're sleeping."
Doctor Foo sighed and allowed each child to sit in a chair. John and Maria were much too small, only six years of age yet, and they swung their short legs back and forth. "I should be expecting David to be arriving shortly, then."
"Nuh-uh!" Maria said, kicking her legs out eagerly. "Davy doesn't know we're here! Besides, he's probably too busy reading an English textbook!"
"But he will," John muttered. "He always knows..."
The tutor laughed at their grim expressions and rummaged through one of the shelves behind his desk. He pulled out a bread loaf, tore it in half, and gave each piece to the children. They greedily took it and nibbled on it. The entire library was cluttered with books and papers torn from the texts. However, it suited the Doctor very well. Maps were decorating the walls depicting places foreign to the children. They had only ever been in England and found it extremely hard to believe that there were countries beyond their own.
"So, what brings you to my study?" He sat down in front of them and placed his hands on the table. "I take it you did not just come here for bread?"
Each of them giggled and looked at the other nervously. "Well, John began. He unconsciously tore his bread loaf with his little fingers and looked at Maria for help.
She snorted and rolled her eyes. "We've heard our parents say something about 'crème brulee' and that there's a lot going on in the Middle Yeast," she said with a confident nod of her head. Doctor Foo raised an eyebrow at what she said.
"Crème brulee? As in the food?"
"No, Doctor Foo," she pouted and tore off a piece of her bread with her mouth. "They say things about people dying," she said with a mouthful of bread in her mouth. "I don't think people die over food— do they?"
"I don't know," John brought his legs up to the chair and sat cross-legged. "Doctor Foo, what do they mean? What's going on in the Middle Yeast?"
He blinked, but finally burst out into laughter, his body shaking with humor. "Ahh! You must mean the Crusades in the Middle East! Ohhoho! My, my, you children certainly have a way of hearing things!"
Maria blushed furiously and puckered her lips out in annoyance. "Well? What's going on in the Middle East then?"
He coughed and controlled his laughter. However, an amused smile was stretched across his slightly wrinkled face. "Well, little one, the English, Germans, and French have all gathered together to... explore... and learn a new culture."
Both of them stared at him with huge eyes. "You mean there's more than one culture than English?" They turned their heads to look at each other with giddy smiles. Doctor Foo chuckled and nodded.
"Yes, Maria and John, there are many, many civilizations out there."
"So, what are the Christians doing exploring new territory?" Maria piped up.
Doctor Foo sighed and scratched his chin. He couldn't tell them that they were trying to spread their culture by means of forcing themselves upon an existing lifestyle. No, they were too young to understand that, and they both had fairly loose lips. "Ahh, well, you see," he cleared his throat, "we're trying to make friends with another group of people is all, my dears."
John frowned and tilted his head to the side. "Why? England is superior, though. We don't need friends, right?"
"Ahh, but Jonathan, every culture needs friends! Why, think about how lonely you'd be if you didn't have friends."
The boy bit his lip as he thought. "I wouldn't be able to steal apples from the local market then."
Maria snorted. "Or steal bananas, or oranges, or strawberries, or—"
"Oh, be quiet, Maria!" he pouted and crossed his arms. "You're always being such a rat fink!"
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"AM NOT!"
"Ah, so there you are."
Doctor Foo looked up from the two bickering children to smile at David Thorpe. "Ahh, David! Forgive me for keeping them from their beds, but they seemed to have paid me quite an unexpected visit." He stood to shake the six and ten year old's hand. David was ten years older than Maria and John, and he was also John's older brother. He smiled at Doctor Foo, but frowned when he saw Maria and John tackling each other to the floor, each of them squealing at the other.
"You must forgive me, as well, for their behavior, Doctor Foo." He gave a sheepish smile and glared at the two children. They paid no attention to him as they rolled around on the floor together.
Doctor Foo chuckled and waved his hand at the boy. "Ah, nonsense! They are but children after all, David. Do you not remember when you yourself loved to chase your father's horses around the barn? Oh, I do remember Xavier laughing his behind off from seeing you act so childish." He shared a chortle with David and raised his eyebrow in question when he glimpsed at his left hand. "So, it's begun, I presume?"
David glanced at John and Maria, who were too busy biting and pulling each other's hair to have noticed him, and took one step closer to Doctor Foo. "Yes, it has begun. Father has told me that I excel where my fellow Brothers do not."
"David, you know what this means, do you not?" The tutor put an arm around the young man and led him away from the two children. "You're going to be away from home for a very, very long time, my boy."
He gave a humorless smile and closed his eyes. "I'm well aware, Doctor Foo."
"And Maria and John? Did you even tell your brother?"
He licked his lips as he thought of an answer. Finally, "In time, he will learn what our family truly is— what he truly is. But, for now," he looked over his shoulder at both of them and smiled. Maria had John pinned to the ground while she tickled him. The poor boy howled in laughter while he tried to beg her to leave him alone. "For now, Doctor Foo, I'm content with him being oblivious to the truth."
Doctor Foo scratched his neck as he gave David an uneasy glance. "You know, David, you won't be able to see Hélène for a while either. Not just because you'll be away from home, but because of her family being Temp-"
"I'm aware of that as well, Doctor Foo." David sighed and glared at his left hand where a ring finger should have been. "I fear not for her life. If I was to remove myself from her existence, then I believe she'd be alright. It's... it's her brother that I'm concerned about."
"Robert?" Doctor Foo asked. He cocked his head to the side and shook his head slightly. "What does he have to do with this?"
David glanced at the two children once more before lowering his voice. "Father believes that the De Sable's are onto us. They've known for years the true nature of the Thorpe lineage, Doctor Foo, but they are just now starting to take action against us. I also fear for John and Maria..." His voice trailed off as he gave a worried glance at his younger brother and his 'cousin' Maria. "They don't deserve such tragedy in their lives."
"Then you must tell Hélène, David. Surely she knows a way to convince her family?"
"No, Hélène wouldn't be able to-"
"Oooooh, are we talking about Hélène again?" Maria said as she finally removed herself from John. The poor boy clutched his sides and heaved from being tickled so much. However, upon hearing Maria mention Hélène de Sable, he immediately forgot the girl's abuse and perked his head up in interest.
"You mean the lady Davy likes?" He sat up and shared a knowing smirk with Maria. "Maria, don't you find it strange how Davy left the house last week so late at night?"
"And didn't return until morning the next day?" Maria and John giggled while David turned a light shade of pink. "Strange also how we saw him climb up into her window as well..."
He knelt down to their level and smiled at them. His blue eyes pierced through their gray ones as he narrowed them. "Now, listen, you two," he placed a hand on either of their shoulders, "before you start believing that your brother, John, and cousin, Maria, is up to no good with Hélène de Sable, perhaps you should consider what I should tell father, John, and uncle, Maria. How would he react if he knew that you two were out of bed, sneaking about, disturbing Doctor Foo?"
Their smirks quickly disappeared as they gave him an innocent stare, complete with two pairs of huge, pleading grey eyes. "Who's Hélène?" Maria said with a confused look on her face. "I don't know any Hélène. Do you, John?"
He quickly shook his head and gave a sheepish grin. "N-no, I do not know an Hélène..."
David smiled and ruffled their hair. "That's better, you two. Now, Doctor Foo, if you wouldn't mind," he stood up and gave a firm pat to the man's shoulder, "I'll be taking these two troublemakers back home."
Doctor Foo smiled and gave each child a quick wink before saying his farewell to David.
"So, Davy," Maria prompted. John's older brother was holding each of their hands as he walked back to his father's estate. "How is Hélène anyways?"
He smiled and shrugged. "She's doing well, she's doing well. Her family's business is holding up very nicely, she hasn't had any problems with her parents lately—surprisingly—and Robert is behaving for the most part."
John couldn't help but notice that his brother had a slight French accent to his tongue. Probably from spending so much time with the topic they were discussing.
"Robert," Maria muttered. "I never did like him. Do you remember at my pipe organ concert, Davy? He kept making funny faces at me during the whole production... a bit creepy, no?"
David nodded and gripped her hand tighter. "Don't worry, Maria. He was probably holding back a sneeze." And yet David knew that that young man was smirking at Maria because he knew what tragedies she would soon face in her life.
John rolled his eyes and nudged his brother. "Who cares about Robert," he muttered. "What's more important is the Crème Brulee and the Middle Yeast!"
"The what?" David raised an eyebrow and looked at his brother as if he had three heads.
Maria pouted and sighed. "He means the Crusades and the Middle East," she stated matter of factly, as if she knew every detail on the topic. "Davy, why are we trying to make friends?"
David Thorpe furrowed his eyebrows together. Is that what Doctor Foo had told the children? "Because, ehh... we're a lonely country, Maria."
"But it's better to place trust in yourself than in others," she insisted. David sighed, partly from annoyance, and partly from relief when they reached their house. He didn't bother answering her question. Instead, he opened the door and led the children back to their beds. Whenever Maria visited her cousins, she would always share a room with John. They'd always be scheming a way to break the rules.
No wonder they snuck out at such a late hour.
"Now, you two," David said after he had helped his brother and Maria into their nightwear, "get yourselves some sleep. If I catch you two sneaking out again, I'll be sure to tell Xavier and Emily." He frowned when Maria and John both smirked at him.
"And if you pay one more night trip to Hélène de Sable," John started, "then we will tell Uncle Xavier and Aunt Emily," Maria finished.
David sighed and closed his eyes in irritation. "You two are devils in the flesh, you know that?"
They both nodded happily, but listened to David as they climbed underneath the sheets. "Good night, Davy," Maria said.
"Good night, Maria."
"Good night, David," John said with a small smirk on his lips.
"Good night, Jonathan." David walked to the door but spared one last glance at his family. His brother and sister; Sarah and John.
And of course right when David left the room and quietly shut the door, the two children gave each other an impish smirk and began devising their next escapade for when Maria would visit again.
And here's a little FF, Fun Fact: 'kibbeh', mentioned when Altair and Malik were walking together, is the Arabic word that is the equivalent to what 'kufta' is, which was mentioned by Damiel in a previous chapter.
Translations:
Oyé: hey
respecto: respect
si: yes
Vaya!: an interjection of surprise, shock, etc.