Many of the most important days in Maria's life could be mapped out in scars. She bore the scars of both her youth and her battle history with the same indifference, it mattered not to her that she didn't have the same smooth skin as other woman; they didn't have the life she led and she considered it a more than fair exchange. But as she pulled a clean assassin tunic over her head she did have to wonder what Altaïr saw in her.

She glanced at the giant tied up in the corner and scowled. She had helped him drink a bowl of water and how did he repay her? Little bastard threw up all over her and now here she was forced to wear the robes of an order she had spent years hunting down and killing. She looked down at herself and the robes and dreaded the joy Malik would take from seeing the clothes hanging from her like bed sheets. "Oh well I'll just have to prove that the clothes do not make the man." Uilleam grunted and it took all her self control not to aim a boot at his arse then as she walked past him she smiled and whispered, "Ceana I'll make sure he becomes a man if it's the last thing I do."

The assassins who hadn't already left were sitting on the floor and to Maria they looked like they were praying. As expected Malik couldn't resist offering an opinion about her attire, "Those were the smallest robes we had but then you have already confessed you were born lacking the parts required to truly fill them."

She smiled sweetly at the one armed man and in a voice coated with sugar she replied, "That is very true Malik but then I have the advantage of not having to be led around by those missing parts."

"You have a very low opinion of me Maria."

Maria looked genuinely offended by his remark. "Now that is untrue I include you in my daily prayers Malik. Admittedly it's a prayer that you be infected by a particularly nasty pox but I'm told it's the thought that counts."

"Considering where we are going you may well have your wish Maria but I take comfort from the knowledge you will be right there with me exposed to all the same dirt and waste." Holding his single arm in front of him he gestured for her to walk ahead. "Shall we?"

They left in small groups to avoid attention with Altaïr being the first group and Maria and Malik the last to leave Jabal and the bureau. They began the walk in silence with Malik walking slightly ahead but as they got closer to their destination she matched his step. He walked with his arm tucked behind his back; Maria guessed it was the sign of a lifelong habit only there was no other hand to link it with.

"Do you still think I'm leading you all into a trap?"

Malik regarded her for a short time before he gave his considered response. "No I don't it would be suicide on your part to walk into the trap with us." She looked to the ground and nodded but when he carried on speaking she met his eyes once more. "I doubt it's a trap because I believe in this matter and this matter alone you may be thought of as an ally."

"I don't blame you for showing caution around me it makes sense. I fear I may not have been so accepting of you had our positions been reversed." Tahir had told her of Kadar and his death at the hands of Robert in Solomon's Temple and Maria felt sure she was an unwelcome reminder of that event. "I chose the wrong side Malik all I can do is prevent future wrongs alas altering the past in not within my impressive range of talents."

He bobbed his head up and down slowly, "We are all subject to the same rules of time and hindsight is a wonderful thing is it not?"

Remembering words Altaïr had spoken to her on their return voyage to Acre she stopped walking and faced him, "I'm sorry for your loss but most of all I regret that I had a hand in it."

"I am thought to be observant Maria and with that in mind I would hazard you were not present in the Temple on that day. Unlike your Crusader brothers I am fairly certain I would notice a soldier with long hair and a feminine shape."

Knowing he was simply being humorous she choose not to point out that she never had long hair at the time instead she smiled and almost shyly curtseyed, lifting her arms to the side to raise skirts which were not there. From the beginning she had recognised his intellect but he had a wisdom which surpassed his years, probably surpassed Altaïr's as well.

So far the streets had been even quieter than earlier in the day but as the music began to increase in volume they noticed revellers who had left the celebration to pursue more private pleasures. A young woman ran hand in hand with her beau giggling until she saw the odd couple walking toward them when she blushed and pulled him into a side street.

"She tied him up you say?"

"Yes but tomorrow it will be his turn to find lady to tether and his reward is far sweeter than money." Malik raised a questioning eyebrow, "The price for her release will be a kiss."

He thought of the boy tied up back at the bureau and decided to make damn sure he was not the one to unbind him.

They passed close to the fortress and skirted around the edges of the festival. She watched wide eyed at the heaving mass of revellers as they spun and clapped in time to the music. People danced around the long tables groaning under the burden of various meats and savouries. A juggler was cart wheeling along the length of a table tossing sticks into the air and catching them before launching himself into this next acrobatic display all the while managing not to upset any of the tankards in his path. Maria recognised Wilfred a lowly knight- come -troubadour currently fiddling for a group of nobles and lowered her head. She needn't have bothered they were all far too engrossed in the celebrations to bother noticing bystanders.

A group of young men playing hoodman's blind ran past them brandishing reeds and sticks and Malik had to yank Maria out of their path. The unfortunate hoodman stumbled past them arms outstretched frantically searching for a player to take up his burden. Maria grinned at the confusion on Malik's face when one of his friends whipped him across the buttocks. "It's a game, they don't really hurt him and he will have a chance to get them back soon enough."

Malik had often thought these Europeans were strange but sometimes you understand a person the least when you see what they do for pleasure, very strange indeed...

The square on their left was illuminated with lights and torches and so full of people Malik had to confess she had been right; this truly was the perfect time to enter the cistern. They moved up along the seawall and came upon the entrance usually hidden beneath a cart but his brothers had shifted it a couple of feet to the left.

A young man who had been trying unsuccessfully to gain the favour of a girl with blonde hair noticed Maria and decided to try his luck with this new female.

He bent low at the knee and Maria was amused to see this act of chivalry from a boy with holes in the arse of his leggings but she responded in kind. "Good evening to you my Lady I wonder would you be willing to do this poor retch a kindness and allow me a dance with such a fair maiden?"

She had to give him credit for trying but Malik was in no mood for charity, "The lady is otherwise engaged move along."

The boy rose to his full height and squared up to the man with one arm but Malik stepped forward to meet his challenge and something in his expression must have warned the youth he was outmatched. He bowed his head and backed off without removing his eyes from the face of the trained killer. "Begging your pardon I meant no offense."

He moved off and Malik waited until they appeared to be unobserved before he lifted the cover and gestured to Maria to enter. "You know I might have wanted a dance Malik, a girl must have her fun after all."

He joined her inside and waited for Maria to replace the cover from below. "If this works I will personally escort you to the heart of the gaiety but for now focus on the task at hand."

She turned to get her bearings but in the gloomy light of the small oil burning torch all she could really see was the wall around her and the light from the next torch ahead. The smell of stagnant water made her heave and Malik handed her one of the pieces of cloth he had taken from inside his robes wrapping his around his mouth and nose she followed suit. She could still smell the putrid bitter sweet water but it was at least bearable.

The sound of water dripping made her look up to find the source but she staggered when she felt Malik's hand roughly grab her shoulder almost pulling her to the ground. She faced him ready to fight but he pointed to the ground just in time for her to see a ghoulish rat's parade from the water to a hole in the wall. She offered him and bashful smile and thanked him for stopping her. She stumbled on some loose stones on the ground and had to cling to the wall to stop herself falling, she instantly regretted not just letting herself fall. The wall was slick with mildew and smelled worse than the water, rubbing her hands up and down her thighs she grimaced as she tried not to think about what they were breathing in.

They turned the first corner and up ahead she could make out the shapes of the assassins waiting for them to catch up. Altaïr stood amongst the four other men and watched them approach. He wanted to smile when he saw her with the tunic hanging past her knees but he stifled it certain she would not see the funny side.

"As planned Maria will lead Malik and the others to the weapons and I will locate Conrad." He stepped off into the shadows but Maria sprinted after him.

"Wait, wait what do you mean Conrad? Since when did this involve anything other than sabotaging the delivery?"

The other assassins led by Malik walked past, she chanced a glance at the grand Dai expecting to see him savouring her confusion but all she saw in his expression was pity and for some reason that was far worse.

"Malik and I discussed this and we felt it would be best for you if we kept this part of it from you. You need only concern yourself with your own orders Maria."

She licked her lips and swallowed hard in an attempt to combat the dryness in her throat, dryness or growing rage, time would tell. "You felt it would be best... When exactly did I submit myself to your authority assassin?"

"I don't have time for this Maria, we wanted to avoid causing a rift and this was the simplest way." He turned on his heels before adding, "You submitted to my authority when you accepted shelter from my brothers I know you are not so naive as to have thought otherwise."

Maria was fully aware of the terms of sanctuary but she had never truly considered her situation to be thus. "As you wish Master you can be sure I'll be taking immediate steps to rectify the situation." She caught up with Malik at the foot of the stairs and threw a warning after Altaïr. "Have a care with Conrad assassin you'll not find him as timorous as his father."

He showed no sign of having heard her but he did wonder what timorous meant.

Maria led them to the rooms where Warwick had discovered the cargo and they began examining the stacks and stacks of crates. Malik told the men to locate the weapons and ignore the food and armour but Maria had something else in mind. She searched through the sacks until she found what she wanted and grinned, "Tahir take a couple of helmets and fill them with water then meet me in the room at the end of this corridor."

Malik glanced up from his search as she strode past him but the box he had just opened drew his eyes back to it in disbelief. Some of the finest swords he had ever seen, the purest steel and the sturdiest hilts. They truly did mean to leave nothing to chance with this assault. He ceased his admiration for the quality of the arsenal and resumed separating the crates.

Tahir ran along the corridor and opened the door to the room Maria had told him but what he saw stopped him dead. "What are those?"

"I don't know what they are called Robert handled the instructions for these but I do know they are capable of terrific destruction. When fleeing Cyprus the Templars used these to fire upon the archive. We must render them inoperable Tahir."

Malik stood in the doorway behind the novice. Altaïr had already described in great detail the weapons used in Cyprus but to see them now was still shocking. Five long black metal tubes, he could only guess at the weight of the monsters but the wheels he guessed which had been designed to bear that weight lay useless on the floor beside them.

Maria drew her sword and began stuffing the tube with oats, using her sword to force it as far in as she could before she added water then bent to scoop up more oats. Malik could have kissed her this was ingenious! He walked to the wall and lifted a long black stick he had noticed when he arrived; it had a stopper on the end and would probably work better than her sword. "Try this instead. Tahir go back to the stores and bring more oats and tell the others to fetch more water, this is the real reason we are here."

They worked fast cramming the barrels of the five beasts with as much "porridge" as could be stuffed inside. Malik knew the mixture would dry into thick almost solid texture and would be almost impossible to remove but still he felt they needed to be doubly sure. "We will move the other weapons first but return for these we must get them hidden."

The others left to begin moving the crates while Malik considered the best way to get these weapons as far from the Templars as he could.

Altaïr crept along the halls of the fortress still feeling the effects of Maria's grim words. But he had learned enough to feel confident enough to strike. Conrad's wife was pregnant and he had learned she had moved to another part of the city unable to stomach the foul air of the fortress so he knew he would find him alone. The talk amongst the people had been of his unwillingness to allow the celebration to go ahead due to the heavy security required at the fort but they suspected he simply didn't want to pay for the feast. Conrad heard of these rumours and stated in no uncertain terms that he would sup alone in his quarters on the night rather than attend a feast with an ungrateful populace.

That suited the assassin just fine.

He knew which part of the fortress housed the Liege's personal rooms but he still had to spend some time looking around to find them. Two soldiers leaning against their long swords looking bored and unhappy were exactly what he had been searching for. He drew a throwing knife from his belt and aimed with deadly accuracy. The first guard had his hands at this throat and was choking on his own blood before the other noticed anything amiss and when he turned to investigate he felt something sharp pierce his chest before his body crumpled to the ground and darkness filled his vision.

Altaïr stood listening at the door for long minutes but hearing no speech he felt safe enough in assuming the Italian was alone. He pulled the ringed handle to the side and pushed the solid oak door inwards.

Conrad was seated alone at a small table; his back was to the door. Altaïr could kill him and send him to the next world without him ever having known he was there but unfortunately for Conrad the assassin needed answers from him before he would be allowed to submit to the peace of the quiet grave.

Raising his left arm he waited until the Italian placed his heavy silver chalice back onto the table timing the release of his well oiled hidden blade to coincide exactly with the clank of his drink. He took one more step forward and thrust the blade deep into the man's shoulder. Conrad spun around with the blade still embedded in his neck, and lunged forward dislodging the blade and scattering his food on the floor.

Kicking his chair at the assassin and forcing him to jump to evade it he drew his sword, his face a perfect mask of bitter hatred. He had barely reacted to Altaïr's blade withdrawing from his neck so overwhelming was his need to taste this man's blood. "You killed my father you murdering bastard and now you sneak in here like a thief to steal mine. Well show me what you have you dog tonight we shall learn how you handle fighting an armed man for once."

Altaïr drew his own blade and steadied himself for the attack but Conrad was bleeding heavily and the assassin almost wished he would accept his fate peacefully.

He swung his sword and Altaïr blocked easily but there was strength in the blow, he moved to the side and delivered a counter swing preferring to use his short blade because this man would be too weak to deal with speed soon. Conrad easily deflected the light blade barely showing any signs of ill effect.

'How is he still standing?' His tunic was saturated with blood and his flesh was pale but he stayed on his feet and stood his ground. Altaïr was about to learn that hate went a long way to keeping a man fighting and kicking.

Conrad moved to the wall and grabbed onto the heavy tapestry hanging there he tugged it down but kept it in his hand. Altaïr knew he was going to try to use the material to blind him but he was ready for that, he expected better from a man with such obvious sword skills. Conrad whipped the fabric into the air but not at his head as he anticipated he aimed it for his feet. He sidestepped it easily but his foot slid on a piece of Conrad's discarded meal leaving him bent on one knee. Conrad delivered a boot to the assassin's sternum sending him sprawling to his back. Conrad could taste victory as well as his own death but the sweetness of revenge was far headier than the bitterness of his own demise.

"This is for my Father you dirty sneaking sewer rat."

His sword was aimed straight for his chest but Altaïr saw what Conrad had not, Maria... "NO!" He held out his hand to stop her but she swung regardless.

"And this is for Warwick."

Her sword practically beheaded the Templar; she had to tug it to remove it from his body. Maria stood above Altaïr flicking blood from her sword and grinning. "I have no doubt you had some clever counter strategy planned but damn it all he had that coming." She left him dazed on the floor as she returned to the others to help sink the weapons into the putrid water of the cistern.

Malik helped Maria from the tiny hole and once more she found herself on the edge of the square but only the hardiest of souls were still there and few of them were dancing. She saw Wilfred lying across a bench with his fiddle balanced on his stomach, probably blind drunk and exhausted. "Looks like you'll have to bring me back tomorrow for that dance; this one is over for tonight."

"According to you tomorrow is for the men to earn a reward; it might be best if you steer clear of this place."

They walked in the shadows as the moon began to make its descent in the sky and Malik felt a real sense of satisfaction at this night's work. Maria had been as good as her word and according to her all that was left at the other two strongholds was mostly food and clothing; so far as he was concerned they were welcome to both those things.

"The quality of the weapons we destroyed was impressive surely the wasted funds will be a fatal blow to the Templars."

"The Templars have more money than they can spend Malik. They have debts owing to them from crowned heads and the Vatican itself. The order will not suffer from this loss at least not in monetary terms."

He once again felt a nagging doubt in his stomach; despite her actions tonight could they really trust her in the long term after all she had really only helped them wipe out enemies they had in common. "A suit of armour alone would cost a great deal Maria how can it be such a loss would be irrelevant?"

Maria blinked at him absolutely surprised that he had no comprehension of the wealth of her order. "Malik every knight who joins the order places his estate in their hands. If he lives to return to his estate he finds it running more profitably than before. They take a percentage of the profits and lend those monies to Kings and popes but at a premium. Sometimes the Knight dies and all the property remains in the hands of the order. They have vast holdings all over France and England."

Her information did not bode well for the future, how were his small order with their meagre resources supposed to compete with men of such means? But he knew they would find a way because the alternative was unthinkable.

Back in the bureau Maria went to check on her charge who she found fast asleep with his arms wrapped around his considerable chest. She had no doubt he had just taken his first drink of manhood and was equally sure that he would wake up suffering his first hangover.

"You killed him Maria."

She faced the source of the voice and saw Altaïr leaning against a small desk looking somewhat serious. "Yes and saved your worthless neck in the process." He never joined her mirth so she tried another approach, "Assassin you would have taken him I have no doubt of that but what does it matter that I killed him?"

"You're right I would have killed him Maria he thought me down and out but I would have questioned him first. You severing most of his neck prevented that."

"Are you suggesting I had ulterior motives?" She took another step toward him all sign of mirth gone from her face.

"I'm asking if you did."

"Then let me ease your concerns I did not kill him so you couldn't question him. I sought you out to ask you in private why you choose not to share all the details of this mission with me."

"Maria you have admitted to having feelings for the man accused of being the ring leader, it would be natural for you to want to protect him."

She bit her lip and closed her eyes willing herself not to shout. "You killed Robert and in the end I admitted it was the best thing for humanity even if there were times when I confess I wanted to gut you for it I knew in my heart Robert was deserving of his fate but that knowledge came at a cost assassin. My heart is still reeling from the blow you struck in Arsuf." She moved towards the door her expression no less damning than her tone, "And yet you think me so weak, so blinded by loyalty that I would be willing to charge to the defence of Robert's replacement?"

"I find myself incapable of predicting your reactions because you are incapable of dealing with a situation without letting your emotions interfere."

"And now I see the man who killed his surrogate father without batting an eye."

His jaw twitched and his shoulders flinched. "Which makes me the ideal man to point out your flaws, yes?" He lifted himself from the table he had been leaning on, "The circumstances of Al Mualim's death are not something I'm proud of but I am proud that I can truly protect my brothers from any corrupting influence. Can you say the same Maria would you be capable of making an impossible choice?"

She continued towards the door but paused long enough to offer one final comment, "We'll find out together..."

One sleepless night and one slow day at work and I have written who knows what but it seems to be moving in the right direction so we'll go with it :)

I finally remembered to copy paste the two dots above Altaïr's name I prefer it like that but meh my memory sucks :(