A/N totally re-wrote chapter 13 I hated the other one it didn't fit into what else I have planned. I'm not thrilled with this one either but I need to get past it :)

So for anyone paying attention Maria has just had her head banged off a wall and Gerhard has left for the brothel and I'm sorry for changing it around :(

Ceana is pronounced Kenna. Uilleam is Gaelic for William and sort of sounds similar and Ciorstaidh is Kirsty or ChristianChristine

He stood outside the bureau for several minutes trying to decide what to do. Maria would leave for Homs in the morning of that he had no doubt. The decision he had to make was would he let her go alone?

He hadn't wanted information from her, his brothers would find that anyway. What he wanted was to feel she was on his side, standing with him. But she was still torn between what she knew was right and what she felt was the right thing to do concerning her former comrades, this spoke volumes to him. Hers was a mind capable of higher thought but was bogged down with sentiment.

He sighed into the night and put his foot on the bottom rung of the ladder. She would find her way with or without him but he wanted to accompany her on her journey and Homs was only another step in what he considered her true journey.

When Gerhard left the men alone with Maria they had covered her body with her cloak and carried her down to the dark foggy streets. They chose a quieter route to the garrison, it made the trip longer but neither wanted to be seen doing what they were doing.

"I tell you I saw his face he enjoyed what he did to her. I don't feel right about delivering her to him."

His comrade clicked his tongue, "If we don't deliver her it will be us he kicks with those pointed steel shoes. Besides she is a traitor every man that assassin took may have been pointed out by her."

The unwilling man bent forward and listened to her raspy breaths. He had a young wife and it would kill him to see her abused in this way, her gentler parts being so mistreated. "I came here to build hospitals Ludwig not to be a party to this cruelty, I fear Gerhard is poisoning our souls." He looked at the woman hanging in his arms, "She is bleeding heavily perhaps God will be kind and take her before he makes it back to her."

Ludwig halted in front of his friend blocking his progress, "Don't fall for her looking like a fragile woman she has been the cause of much pain to our order. Günter we must not allow our personal feelings to interfere, she deserves to die perhaps not the death Gerhard has planned but what does our opinion matter?"

He heard footsteps clunking down the stairs and quickly exited her building stepping back into the shadows where he seemed to spend most of his life. A man came out, the fat man from today at the fort. Angling his head to her window he could see light flickering from behind the thick glass. Maria was home but what was she doing entertaining this man?

As he watched the man leave he couldn't help but feel amused and somewhat superior. This waddling duck was the best the Teutonic's could find to lead their order! He heard a struggle from within her building, his body automatically made to move towards it when he saw her door open. Two more men both wearing the black cross of the Teutonic's came out and one of them was carrying something.

It was her. Her face was streaked with blood but he would know her anywhere. She was hanging limply in his arms with her cloak wrapped around her body and she was unconscious. Anger almost made him surge forward but habit drew him back and made him take control of his emotions, she needed him to be steady now more than ever. His eyes flicked around the square; there were clusters of guards all around but he had fought greater numbers for lesser reasons. He crossed the square to the men ready for whatever battle lay ahead but incredibly they turned into a side street.

He took to the rooftops and hunching down low he stalked his prey; listening to every word they said. German wasn't his strongest language but he understood what they were saying well enough to realise they were not happy about what they were doing. Then they stopped moving as the bigger of the two tried to justify his actions, the time to strike had come.

He dropped down in front of them deliberately letting the one carrying her see him; if he was lucky she would be dropped from his arms and be safe from harm during the conflict. His left wrist tensed and his muscles flexed summoning his blade from her deadly hiding place it snapped into action.

The soldier with his back to him watched his friend's eyes widen with what, horror? He had almost turned his head when he felt something sharp and cold dig into his neck then he felt no more. The man carrying Maria never dropped her if anything he held her closer to his body and Altair felt disgust for him, using a woman as a shield was low even for these men.

He spoke to him in English hoping he would be understood, "Let her go."

"I... I wanted no part of this, I held her hands down for him but I had to, I was following orders. I have a wife of my own." He backed up a few paces hoping to create enough space between them to put her down and run, he had heard much talk of these devils in white and wanted no part in a battle with one of them.

"And if you saw your wife like this would you permit the men who held her down live?"

The question was not really one he was expected to answer both men knew he wouldn't and rather than beg for his life and cry like a coward Günter did the honourable thing. He placed her on the ground beside him, rose to his full height and drew his sword, "No, I would kill them where they stood, but know this assassin no matter the outcome of our fight she will not end up in his hands."

Altair flicked his wrist to sheathe his wrist blade and drawing his sword he asked, "What is his name?"

"Gerhard, he was appointed leader after Master Sibrand was murdered. Your clan has killed a good man and delivered my order into the hands of a madman."

The assassin nodded his head; he felt respect for this man. He would be just as dead as his fallen brother but he would die with honour. The German raised his sword and bid him approach which he did with terrifying speed. Their swords clashed noisily in the alley but there were only four strikes before it was over, Altair quickly broke his stance and ran his sword into his gut giving him a quick if not painless death.

Flicking the blood from his sword he sheathed it and knelt beside Maria, a finger on her neck told him she had a strong pulse but his eyes wouldn't leave what he was seeing below that. The cloak had fallen open and exposed a long thin cut from her neck to her waist and what looked like blood staining her leggings between her legs. Closing his eyes against the sight he forced himself not to think about Gerhard had done to her, that man would answer for his crimes but right now he had to get her to safety. Her head wound although bleeding heavily was not deep and he knew she would probably have nothing worse than a headache once she woke up.

He closed her cloak around her small frame and lifting her gently he cradled her into his chest. The bureau was close but so was dawn, he needed to move quickly. Making his way through the maze of streets and constantly having to change direction because of guards he was soon beginning to run out of options. He turned into one of the streets that signalled the end of the nicer district and saw half a dozen guards milling around.

He looked around trying to work out a new route in his head; cursing the fact the rooftops were not an option when he heard someone call out. She was still hanging limply in his arms and he was determined when she did open her eyes it would be in a safe place.

"You over there what has happened to this woman?"

He shifted his head and saw a middle aged woman calling to him from her doorway. "She had an accident, hit her head." That would usually be enough to make her stick her nose back inside her house but she came outside and jogged to catch him.

The last thing he needed was for her to make a scene, "She will be fine please don't worry I'm taking her to get help."

She smiled and Altair stopped walking, "You don't remember me do you?"

"I'm sorry I don't know who you are."

"My daughter was being attacked by guards and you helped her, you kept your hood up but I recognise the scar on your mouth. I told you then if I could ever return the favour I would do it gladly, could it be now is just such a time?"

He would either have to double back on himself or pass the guards so he asked, "Is there somewhere I can take her to get her off the streets. Very soon there may be soldiers looking for her."

He had basically told her she would be harbouring a fugitive and yet she looked pleased to be asked. "Bring her in here, we don't have much but our home is at your disposal for as long as you need it."

He nodded and followed her inside the small house. There was a fire already burning in the corner of the room and thankfully most of the smoke seemed to be making its way to the chimney. There was a large wooden table covered with various cooking utensils but beyond that he could see the floor of the next room where the rest of the family where sleeping.

"We can clear a space for her over here and clean her wounds." He gestured towards the corner farthest from the fire.

"Don't be silly my dear, she needs comfort and care just give me a minute to wake these lazy sods up and you shall have the whole room for her."

It was pointless to object since her loud reprisal had already woken them and a bleary eyed boy of later teen years came into the room rubbing his eyes, "Is it time for work already? I don't hardly feel like I had any sleep at all."

His mother pushed him towards a chair and forced him to sit then he noticed the assassin and his bundle. He would have leapt out of the chair had the woman not kept her hands pressed firmly on his shoulders. "This is the man who helped your sister and now we are doing our Christian duty and offering aid in their time of need, there is no cause for alarm."

She patted his shoulders and smiled at the assassin, it took years off her face and he was given a brief glimpse of the pretty girl who used to wear that face before time and worry had taken their toll. Suddenly he knew who both she and her daughter were, "She was a bit younger than he is now and the men were trying to take her probably to sell."

His words came from nowhere but the woman had no trouble understanding what he was talking about. "Yes only you had other ideas. You were a good bit younger yourself then but how you handled those men! Gracious me I will never forget to include you in my prayers, begging your pardon for adding you to Christian prayers but I know of no other kind."

Her husband had heard all of this and when she led the assassin to the back room he stepped aside to let him past.

"Kind thoughts are always appreciated I thank you for them."

"Here put her down on the bed and we can see better what needs doing."

Placing her on the straw mattress he whispered, "I need water and cloths."

She called out to her husband standing in the doorway looking anxious, "Don't just stand there you great lumbering ox get some boiling water and clean cloths. Uilleam fetch me the box from under the window the one with the ointments in." She knelt on the other side of Maria and separated her cloak. "Saints preserve us what devil had his way with her?"

Ceana got to her feet and arranged the fabric hanging at the door, her husband handed her the items she had asked for and told her to call if she needed anything else. She smiled to herself it was his way of saying I'm here if you need me. "They have no need to see what is going on in here. Do you know what happened to her?"

Her voice was strange to him; her accent was very different from the other English people he had encountered, "No I found her like this."

"Well first things first let's clean her up and see how bad things are."

They worked side by side cleaning her up and dressing her wounds, the ones they could dress. Both knowing the injury between her legs was the worst but that there was nothing either could do for it.

"When she wakes up we can wash her and make sure there is nothing else wrong but for now that is all we can do."

He dragged his eyes away from Maria to acknowledge her words with a nod.

She brushed her fingers along Maria's jaw, "Is she Germanic?"

He shook his head, "No she is English her name is Maria."

"I'm no doctor but I think she is going to be fine, we will just have to wait for her to open her eyes and let us know that for certain." She got to her feet, "You'll be well in no time lassie you look like you come from good strong stock."

He brushed the hair away from her face and kept his hand on her cheek and Ceana noticed he was still holding her hand. "Is she your wife?"

He shook his head.

She stood behind him and put her hand on his shoulder, "You are a good man for protecting her but you look exhausted, take some rest on my sons bed if she needs you then you'll still be close by."

She pulled the curtain to the side, "You can rest you are safe here."

Maria heard her voice, a voice she had not heard outside of her dreams for many years.

She stepped out of a small side door pulling her mantle tighter against her body. Her warm breath immediately chilled by the cold air. It was the third month of winter but thankfully there was no frost on the ground. The hem of her dress trailed along the ground but she never noticed this, she wasn't a girl to be concerned by such things as a dirty frock, she wasn't even a girl who enjoyed wearing the bloody things but her father had destroyed all of her preferred clothing and left her only a few dresses. She had crept out of the house like a thief desperate not to wake anyone, then all the fuss would begin and she would have no time for herself.

The stables were at the side of the house and she made her way there, crossing the muddy field and glancing behind her to make sure her departure was still secret. Horace neighed loudly when he saw her she put her fingers to her lips to quiet him, "Shh boy we need to be quiet."

She saddled him and took him outside before climbing onto his sturdy back and steering him towards the foggy and still dark forest. The first tinges of the grey dawn began to appear on the horizon but Maria didn't need daylight to guide her; she knew exactly where she was going.

She skirted around the edge of the trees avoiding the village altogether and made her way to the church. She tethered her steed to a small wooden fence and leaving him to graze on the meagre winter grass she entered the graveyard.

To Maria it seemed even in death status meant everything, the small metal crosses marking the graves of the poor gave way to stone becoming grander in design the closer you got to the church. The fact that the grave she was here to visit was actually inside the church was not lost on Maria, she was perfectly aware of how privileged and sheltered her life had been.

She pushed against the heavy oak door hearing the familiar creak it made. It felt colder inside the church than it had outside and her breathe was still forming in fleeting puffy clouds around her face. She walked past the rows of pews to the tomb she now sought.

Ciorstaidh Thorpe 1139 – 1171

Her hand traced the words etched into the cold stone but the usual barrage of memories never came. "I know you told me I have to give everything but I don't know that I have anything to give, I fear there will be nothing left of me by the end of this day." Her words although spoken in a whisper seemed to bounce off the walls off the silent old church and come right back to her.

She closed her eyes and remembered the last conversation she had with her mother, at least the last one her mother had been able to have without having to pause to cough up blood.

"Stop fussing Maria, it's not often I ask you to make yourself presentable."

The girl smiled at her mother and tried her best to sit still long enough for her to tease her thick dark hair into something "more ladylike". "Why is she getting married to him, she doesn't think him handsome?"

She could feel the vibrations of her mother's chest against her back as she chuckled, "Marriage has very little to do with handsome Maria. For now it is acceptable to dream of your romantic knights and the wondrous life you want but soon enough you will have to accept the reality of what a wife really is."

"Ow! Don't pull it so hard you'll leave me bald." Maria laughed at the idea of having no hair and turning to her mother she said, "Do you think Alfred would marry Elizabeth if she was bald?"

She took her head in her hands and forced it forward, "No I don't but it's a silly question now stop moving Maria or I'll call Eleanor to finish with you."

Maria rolled her eyes but stopped moving; the thought of that she-bear having anything to do with her hair was enough to still her head and her tongue. Silence her tongue for a time at least... "Shall I have to marry a stupid man I don't like?"

Finished with her hair Ciorstaidh took by her the shoulder and turned her round to face her, "I hope not, I hope you will be lucky and marry a man you love very much but love, I believe comes later Maria. You're Father and I will choose as best we can and then you must make the best of the union."

The child bit her lip, "Will you try to choose someone who will race with me and join me on hunts?"

She placed a kiss on her daughters head and said, "I'll do my very best to ensure that your husband is worthy of you. But you must do your part too. Give him everything you have and even if you only get a little in return you will have gained."

Her brows dropped and her eyes narrowed, "I give him everything and get a little in return. Mother that is not fair and I will not be a wife, not ever!"

"No please pay attention. You must be the best wife you can be and he will naturally be the best husband he can be. Hopefully he will reward you with things you like. I bore your Father children and I do my duty as his wife and he in return is fair and kind to me."

"When you left your home for him did you love him?"

"No."

"Do you love him now?"

She gave her daughter an indulgent smile and patted her cheek. "Yes I do and in return we have a good life do we not?"

Maria thought of the times he had scolded her for wearing trousers or for running everywhere, "I suppose..."

"Do you think it would have been any better had I stayed in Scotland and married a wild warrior?"

She knew this was one of those questions she was not supposed to answer honestly but answer she did with both her voice and her excited expression. "Oh yes Mother that would have been so much fun!"

Within a year of that conversation her mother had died and her father had remarried. A perfectly nice Norman woman called Anne who her father had introduced to her as "Your new Mother."

She heard footsteps behind her and hastily scrambled to her feet. "Oh Friar you startled me. I thought I was alone."

"You are never alone in the house of God Maria you know that."

She grinned at his double meaning.

"I never expected to see you here this morning Maria. I would have thought you would be busy."

She scuffed her shoe along the stone beside her mother's tomb, "I am – I mean I will be. I just wanted to come here and have some quiet time."

The Friar smiled at her he had known her since birth and he could imagine how much she dreaded the shackles of wedlock. "I'm very glad you are here I am leaving soon, we are making a pilgrimage to the Holy Land and it will be years before we return."

Her face lit up, "I wish I could go with you. Take me with you Friar... I can be your cook or your stable hand or anything at all you need."

"There are things going on over there Maria, it is no place for a woman even an adventurous one such as you. The Muslims offer no safe passage to Christian pilgrims. Besides you have a date in this very church this afternoon and I hear Peter Hallaton is fine young man and Hallaton hall is grand enough for a queen."

She smiled but it wasn't a true reflection of her inside in there she felt dead or at least dying. "You're right I must go there is still so much to do."

They passed a pleasant exchange of goodbyes and Maria left him to begin his new life while she began the process of giving her own up.

She felt her body being warmed against the cold of that eighteenth winter of her life, an arm wrapped around her waist and she pressed herself deeper into the comforting embrace. Even though she could no longer hear her Mother's voice she felt content and safe.

Ceana poked her head around the curtain to check on her guests and was surprised to see the young man had lain beside her on the bed and fallen asleep with his arm wrapped protectively around her.