Thanks to Techne for all the feedback and advice, I'm really struggling with this now and your help is appreciated.
His handwriting was bold and artistic; she wondered how such a big lumbering man had been able to create something as delicate as the script on these pages. She had read it cover to cover, not even stopping when she made her way from the desk to the bed. Candle in one hand book in the other, she had leaned against her pillows and finished reading the thoughts and ideas of a dead man.
She turned her face to the pillow gently placing the journal on the bed beside her and closed her eyes. The first time she opened it, saw his writing and actually understood it was real she had cried. He had held this and kept it safe, filling its pages with secrets and dreams not expecting anyone to read them. But someone had read it, Altair told her as much, one of his brothers had put his hands on this and invaded his privacy. Not content with taking his life they wanted to know his thoughts even when he no longer had the breath to give them voice.
She would have been his voice, would have made them pay but Bouchart and his idiotic schemes had interfered with her plans. She could have led his men to Masyaf and wiped them out, Robert hadn't told her all his secrets but she knew enough of them to be dangerous to either side. Then the assassin had struck and taken her, she would never understand why he hadn't killed her but if he could have seen the blackness in her heart whenever she looked at him he surely would have.
Then each new thing she learned about Robert had lessened her craving for revenge and each new thing she learned about the assassin chipped away at her hatred for him. Altair was a good man, there was no denying that. He did what he did for noble reasons but that was cold comfort to those left to pick up the pieces. Who had been left with a bigger mess than her? Did he ever stop to think of what he had done to her?
He was convinced he had done her a favour saved her from her self no less but Maria knew that wasn't the case. In the long run he had condemned her to a pointless life in a nothing world, there would never be another man like Robert and there would never be another life like the one they had shared. His blade had taken two lives that day – Robert and hers – the only difference was her corpse was still breathing.
She sighed, it was an unhappy sound and she was glad there was no one there to hear it. She turned on the bed facing the side he would have occupied. "I would have given anything to save you."
Altair needed a distraction, sometimes in the quiet of night he enjoyed letting his thoughts dwell on Maria but tonight he found it impossible to shift them in a positive direction. She had the journal and would make of it what she would, he couldn't alter that but it didn't stop him second guessing himself.
He approached the desk and huffed when he remembered Malik sitting on the other side teasing him about her. He took the seat his Dai had previously occupied and reached for fresh paper but something else caught his eye.
It was another of Malik's absent minded sketches; he had seen many of those over the years. He could draw a map with staggering accuracy but that was the extent of his artistic skills. He pushed it to the side of the desk and began writing some of the reports Malik hadn't done but after a few minutes of writing he stopped and picked up the sketch again. There was something about it, perhaps the hair or the shape of the eye, then realisation dawned on him about who and what he was looking at.
He carefully folded the paper and put it in his pouch then removed his leather gloves before taking up the quill and getting back to the task at hand. Many hours later he put it down, a small satisfied smile on his face. There was a neat stack of papers, all complete. He had relied heavily on Malik recently and it felt good to lighten his burden for once.
He stood pushing his hands into the small of his back; the ensuing crack earned a contented sigh from the assassin. He would manage a couple of hours sleep before the novices arrived bringing their noisy chatter with them. He lay on top of his pallet not bothering with the blankets, folded his hands over his chest and let his mind drift off.
Malik was already up and working by the time Altair emerged from the small room, he and the Rafiq busily sending the novices off on what would likely be another wasted day of effort.
The Rafiq greeted him, "Good morning Mentor glad to see you awake. There is still some food left if you are hungry."
He wasn't, checking the pot to see if there was any tea left he helped himself to that.
"News from Dimashq and Jerusalem, there is no unusual activity in either place. It seems all the Templar's attention is focused on Akka."
They spent the next half hour discussing plans and going over information and the lack of the latter was testing the Mentors famed patience to the limit. They decided to take another tour of the city to be sure there was nothing new, any chink in the defences the novices had missed. It was unlikely but at least better than hanging around the bureau.
The Teutonic garrison was as well defended as it had been but both men noticed that new gallows had been built and 3 of the 5 nooses on it were displaying unfortunate victims.
"They seem to be enforcing the rules with more vigour than before."
Malik bobbed his head in agreement then looked skyward, "I hate those birds, their cries hurt my ears."
Altair looked up at the offending seagulls, the sound of them was unpleasant but he was always able to block it out.
"You stole my picture."
Altair raised his head to be able to see Malik fully from below his hood, "I think exchanged would be a far more accurate term."
The brother smiled, "You certainly made a better job of capturing his likeness. Thank you." Altair bowed his head and Malik continued, "Did you give her the journal?"
"Yes." Keeping his head lowered as they made their way through the rich district towards the fortress.
"I see what you are trying to accomplish but I think giving her the book was harsh, there are things written about her that will not make pleasant reading."
His head snapped up, "What sort of things?"
"Her name is mentioned often, initially as a promising soldier then he began to see she was capable of much more. He commented on her intelligence and loyalty, from what I could make out she became his assistant, his right hand man as it were." His voice was coloured by laughter as he said the last part. "Once their relationship had become... intimate his tone changed, he didn't know what to do with her. He couldn't bring her into his grand plans and in the end, before he reached Solomon's Temple he referred to her as a problem. Obviously we only have what he wrote up to then but she is going to have read that he saw their relationship as a mistake and her presence as a hindrance."
Altair watched the dust swirl around his feet. He made no reply to Malik there was nothing to say. He hadn't considered that possibility; he wanted her to read of his schemes and what lengths he had been willing to go to. It never occurred to him that a man would be anything less than delighted to have a strong woman like Maria at his side.
Malik interrupted his thoughts, "Will you be seeing her again tonight?"
"We made no plans to meet."
He watched him for a time, his expression was blank but Malik knew him better than anyone, there was always something going on under the surface. "You care for her, don't you?"
He never replied immediately and Malik began to doubt he would but then he spoke quietly. "She can be reckless; I am concerned her lust for adventure will be her undoing. I want to try to help her find a new direction for her life."
By now it was early afternoon and they were approaching the fortress. Malik considered how different the place seemed; the soldiers all looked tense and the lack of market stalls and civilians hovering around them made the place feel entirely more sinister, more warlike.
A sharp intake of breath brought his attention back to his friend he followed his line of sight. It took him all of two seconds to see what had caught his attention; the woman, Malik was sure it was Maria. She was walking away from the fortress accompanied by a knight and two older men. The first of them was a stranger to Malik but the other he knew by sight and reputation, it was Conrad Montferrat.
Altair's watched as they stopped at the edge of the paving. They exchanged a few words then a fat man with legs that looked like two bows covered by metal plating took her hand and lowered his lips to it. Even though he was some distance from them he saw her stiffen as the man lingered too long over her hand. When his tongue shot out to moisten his lips he realised he had been grinding his teeth.
Conrad offered her a perfunctory nod before both men returned to the fortress. The younger of the men stayed with her, taking her arm and leading her to the narrow streets which would take her home. He knew he would be spotted soon but it still took him a few seconds to tear his eyes away from her.
Malik gently took his arm and pulled him into an alley. "I thought she wasn't a part of them any more."
"She wasn't... isn't. There has to be a good reason for her being there." He didn't look or sound confident, "Malik I know she isn't the enemy but she is impetuous and her being here could mean any number of things, it would be unwise to jump to conclusions."
"At least now you have a good reason to see her again." Altair didn't have to see his face to know he was smirking.
Tahir was late getting back to the bureau and he knew the others would be annoyed with him for holding up dinner but he felt it was worth it. He walked past the other novices ignoring their scowls and approached Malik and Altair.
"Master Altair, Dai, safety and peace. I have news concerning the soldier called Warwick who led me to that woman's house yesterday."
Malik raised his eyebrow, "Go on Tahir."
"He is dead. He is said to have fallen from the battlements but some of the men feel that is unlikely, suggesting he looked like he had been tortured first."
"What makes them think that, surely the fall alone would have caused terrible injury?"
"I overheard one of them say, "If he fell then he must have hit every brick on the way down, then bounced back up and fell again and both sides of his skull were caved in and there was very little blood around the body." Of course Master it is possible it is inaccurate but given his nervous state yesterday and that same night he falls to his death I find it unlikely to have been an accident."
Altair was out the door and through the roof before Tahir had fully registered his Master bolting over the desk.
Malik shook his head and told Tahir to join the others for dinner.
Sitting alone in her room became unbearable she needed to be outside among people, even strangers; she needed their noise to cut into her lonely, silent world.
She had gone to Stephen to ask if she could borrow Warwick to accompany her on a trip but Stephen had taken her aside and given her the news that Warwick was dead. He had been found at the bottom of the western tower that morning; it was assumed he was drunk and had fallen to his death.
Stephen had stayed with her for a few hours, far longer than he should have but in the end Maria told him to leave. He was to escort a group of priests to Jerusalem and he had already delayed them by several hours. He was still reluctant to leave her but Maria did what she did best –put on a brave face and hid her feelings- telling him to leave while they had enough daylight to get Acre behind them.
A few steps out of her door she saw him, he had been running but stopped when he saw her and continued toward her at a walking pace. Once face to face they both spoke at the same time.
"Are you al-right?"
"I was just going for a wa..."
Maria smiled but it never reached her eyes, "I was going for a walk. If I have to spend any more time in those bloody rooms I'll go insane."
"May I join you?"
She offered a small apologetic smile, "Not a good idea, I won't be very good company."
Some strands of hair had come loose from their constraints and he had to stop himself from reaching out to brush them from her face.
"When are you ever good company Maria?"
"And yet you seek me out."
He stepped forward closing the distance between them, while not touching her he was certainly standing closer than was acceptable considering they were in the street.
She looked around and saw they were receiving some disapproving looks from people and she smiled, "Where are you taking me tonight, assassin? Perhaps there is some forgotten temple somewhere you want to show me."
"I want to show you how to find me." He wrapped his hand around hers, her fingers interlaced with his without hesitation. "I want you to know that you're not alone." He raised their joined hands to his waist, and with his free hand he brushed the smooth surface of her skin, wiping away any trace of the kiss he had seen planted there earlier.
Short and sweet but meh what can I say? I'm lost here, I need a break :)