The horse's hooves clattering on the broken stone was the only sound as they made their slow descent down the rocky hillside, the three riders were each lost in their own thoughts. Tahir had barely spoken a word and Maria was in a world of her own. While Altaïr didn't exactly feel the need to have a conversation he was concerned for the novice's state of mind and decided to test the water.
"Tahir, I would like to spend some time sparring with you today. Rauf informed me you have shown some real improvement."
"I would be honoured Mentor thank you."
He bowed his head in recognition to his respectful response and considered what to do next. He hadn't expected dancing and hand clapping from this naturally quiet boy but his response had been perfunctory and his face had remained fixed and solemn. Tahir was struggling and as his teacher it was his duty to help him. His eyes shifted to the woman riding beside him she had given no sign she had even heard the exchange. She had insisted on holding Saba for the short trip to the nearest village and even though he knew it to be a bad idea her face told him resistance would be a wasted effort.
A small wooden fence on a soft uphill incline indicated the borders of the village he had passed many times but never with any reason to enter. He led his mount around the bend and saw the roofs of the peasant farmers dwellings scattered around in the most haphazard fashion. Tossing a leg over his horse he dismounted and walked to Maria. "Give her to me I will take her to their healer."
Maria resisted, "What use has she for a healer now assassin?"
"These villagers' needs are seldom catered for but the one need they all share is proper care for women in childbirth. The healers are always female and if we are to have any hope of keeping this girl's fate secret I must present her to that woman and hope she understands our reasons."
He saw her hands tighten on the girl before she lowered her head to the body and whispered something the assassin made no attempt to overhear then she loosened her grip and let him have her. "You both wait outside I will speak with her alone."
He carried her past a small crowd who had noticed their arrival and watched their expressions turn from curiosity to horror when they realised what he carried. "I need to see your healer where can I find her?"
A small man who was holding a tethered goat stepped forward, "Come I'll take you to her."
Once Altaïr had disappeared inside her house all eyes moved to his companions. Maria had dismounted and was watching them react to her uniform. She shifted her feet awkwardly her hand unconsciously rubbing the blood from her cross she wondered how many times they had been raided by men wearing the same colours.
He followed the healer to a small room at the back of her house, "Have you heard any news of missing girls?"
She stopped walking and the long veil which served to cover her head only seemed to highlight the stiffening of her shoulders, "So many have been lost to slavers and the army but specifically yes a goat herder's daughter has not been seen since yesterday morning. " She turned to him with a face worn by weather and worry but the eyes were full of compassion. "And now I don't need to ask about your bundle."
"She needs to be washed and properly prepared for burial but I would ask more of you." Gently placing the body on the bed she had indicated Altaïr struggled for once to find the right words. "We found her being attacked and were too late to stop it but I give you my word the men paid with their lives."
As he spoke she tenderly freed the girl from Maria's cloak before she slumped onto the bed next to her almost choking on a sigh which wanted to be far more. "You don't want her family to know she took her own life?"
"That is part of it yes... I want them to believe she fell in the hills."
Aisha got up from the bed and moved to the door, "I will send someone for her family."
He stood beside the girl for a moment unsure of what to do and beginning to regret his decision to trust this woman when she returned with her arms full of white cotton fabric. "I'll wash and prepare her; they will see only her face."
She moved a small table beside the bed "Fetch me clean water from the well."
There were even more people gathering outside when he left to get the water but none of them spoke to him and he made no attempt to engage them. Returning directly with the water he knocked and waited to be granted entry. The girl was fully covered with a blanket as he helped her prepare the water.
"I thank you for the compassion you are showing her healer."
"You may call me Aisha but what should I call you assassin?"
"I am Altaïr Ibn La' Ahad master of the fortress in Masyaf and you have my gratitude Aisha."
"Your task on this day was a grim one assassin and while I weep for what you have delivered to us I welcome you as a friend. Stay a while eat with us, mourn with us and then go your path in peace."
He lowered his head and cast a final eye on Saba, "As-salāmu ʽalaykum." Closing the door he heard the healer singing as she began her painful task, a quite beautiful sound which brought a rare lump to the throat of this hardened killer.
Maria stayed with the horses while the assassins spoke with the people from the village, many of whom were comforting each other as the news of the death spread. She felt out of place, alien and entirely unwelcome but knew the men would stay to witness the girl's burial. She was learning that they were not only killers, they were ambassadors and leaders, men people looked to for direction and strength. A cart drew up outside the house Altaïr had taken the girl into and a man and woman were helped down closely followed by what she assumed were their family. They looked bewildered as they allowed themselves to be ushered into the small house but seconds later Maria heard an almost inhuman howl of pure agony and she knew they were no longer blessed by ignorance as to the fate of their child. She moved to the side of the stable wishing she could vanish into thin air.
She stayed on the fringes of the group during the Janazah but in her heart she took full part in their sad tribute. The burial site was in the hills sandwiched between two villages but it looked like every man, woman and child from both villages had turned out to pay their respects. The girls family began to move off toward the far village her mother blanketed by the arms of her kin but her father stopped a moment to speak with Altaïr. The shocked looking man stumbled and the assassin threw out an arm and caught him then took the hands the older man held out to him and covering them with his own. They chatted for a few moments before Altaïr handed him over to another man from his village but he looked back at the assassin and repeated the words choukran over and over.
The crowd began to make their way back to their homes lost in their own grief and Maria went once more to wait beside the horses determined that her Crusader tunic would not be the cause of any additional upset to these people.
"Hey!" Maria heard the call but never imagined it was directed at her. "Marhaba." This time she stopped and looked cautiously behind her. A young woman was smiling at her and speaking in Arabic.
"Me?"
Another woman joined them; the one Maria knew to be the local healer. "You are Maria yes? My name is Aisha and my friend here is Mesa she if offering to wash your clothes for you."
"Oh please tell her I am grateful but I doubt we have the time to wait for them to dry."
Aisha shook her head and chuckled softly, "You have more than enough time on a day like this they will be dry in an instant." Maria still looked doubtful but Aisha tugged her sleeve, "Come now you cannot wish to spend another second covered in this innocent child's blood."
She was taken to a house in the centre of the odd little collection of buildings and almost shoved inside. Altaïr watched this going on with a small smile – he knew exactly what was happening and he approved. In spite of the bright day the room was dark and gloomy and when Maria saw the heavy fabric covering the window she began to panic. "What is going on here?"
"A bath Maria, the women have made a bath ready for you."
She let herself be dragged further into the room which consisted of a huge wooden tub and a stone bench sitting beside it. There was a bundle on the bench and Aisha moved to it now, "A dress for you to wear while your own clothes are drying and a towel." She moved to the door but looked back over her shoulder, "I'll return in a moment for your clothes."
She undressed with haste and grabbed the towel from the bench deciding to wait outside the water for the woman to come back. The door opened and the too bright sunlight had Maria squinting. "Ah good give them here."
Once more alone Maria stepped into the warm sweet smelling water and found it gradually begin to coax her straining muscles into something close to submission when the door opened and Aisha entered. Her hands crossed over her breasts and her sudden panicked movements sent water spilling over the edge of the bath. "Uh – is something wrong?"
The older woman grinned at her reaction but wasn't put off in the slightest. "Nothing is wrong I am here to assist you."
"Oh I see, well while that is a lovely offer I shall have to decline. I can handle washing myself I've had years of practice."
Dunking one of her arms into the water she chuckled, "Nonsense there is a difference between washing and bathing and I think you would benefit from the latter."
She glanced over at the towel annoyingly just out of reach and decided to make a lunge for it anyway. A firm hand on her shoulder plonked her unceremoniously back onto her bottom. "Sit down and close your eyes Maria, I've done this many times."
Her mouth flew open about to make her point rather more forcefully but she found it suddenly full of the water the woman had dumped over her head. Spluttering she was momentarily stunned then she saw the ewer being dipped into the water again just before another load of water rushed over her face.
"It would be much more relaxing for you if you lay back and let me wash your hair without drowning you." She felt a soft hand on her shoulder and bit her lip.
"I truly mean no offence but I am entirely unaccustomed to this sort of intrusion."
Her fingers began working soap into her hair and not even Maria could deny there was a certain pleasing quality to the sensation.
"Rest Maria there is no cause for alarm I will not touch you anywhere intimate."
The motion of her finger tips on her scalp was damn near hypnotic and Maria's eyes seemed to close of their own accord. The woman was speaking telling her that Altaïr had told her the truth of what happened and how this was the least she could do to help Maria to "cleanse herself" from the experience.
"He is a fine young man Maria when do you plan to be married?"
"We don't, I haven't any interest in being a wife."
Although surprised the older woman's laugh was not unkind "Twenty years ago I would have been delighted to hear you say that because that would leave him free for me."
"He is handsome."
"And intelligent and thoughtful and brave... I am sorry but you really are going to have to share your reasons with me, why would you not want such a man as a husband?"
Maria began to smell the lather the woman had worked through her hair and she wondered when she had last smelled so feminine. "I can't have children and I believe in my heart he would regret that in the years to come." Stunned that she hadn't lied Maria looked for a way to retain some dignity. "I don't want that life anyway."
"How do you know you can't have you tried?"
"I did yes, years ago with my then husband and nothing came of it."
"Did you never think it could be him who was lacking?"
Maria smirked, "Every single day of our marriage but I have since had it confirmed it was indeed me who failed. Subsequent... encounters have been no less fruitless." She felt the water flow softly over her head and closed her eyes. "I almost never bleed anymore and I think that is essential if one is to be a mother."
"But you do bleed?" Shrugging she felt hands on her shoulders, "Turn over."
With no further resistance Maria complied and rested her forehead on the edge of the bath. "I was never frequent but the past few years have seen a real decline I rarely bleed anymore."
Aisha's hands began to knead at the knotted muscles of Maria's neck and shoulder and she smiled when she heard the uptight woman groan. "My husband works on the land and some years the rains are so bountiful we have food to spare then other years the rains hardly fall at all and the ground hardens and cracks. Still he goes out into that barren earth and ploughs and plants were he can and in those years we harvest enough to get by."
Giggling at the notion of her womb being compared to a field Maria asked, "Are you suggesting he should keep planting his seed on the off chance it will take?"
"I am saying that even a little rain can be enough to give you what you need if you care enough to try."
After dressing she was taken to a large house on the outskirts of the small community, what she guessed was the wealthiest man's house. It seemed the entire village were sitting around a few long tables eating and chatting sombrely. Maria was seated between two young women and before long Aisha was acting as interpreter for her as the women asked her one question after another about her life and her replies were greeted with shock and amusement. Without realising it she began to relax and enjoy the friendly atmosphere around the table.
Altaïr and Tahir were seated at another table and both had been bathed and their robes taken for cleaning and were now dressed like the men of the village. Tahir wore a long white Jellabiya with sandals and Altaïr wore a collarless blue tunic over a pair of black sirwals. She wondered how much he missed his hood but still took the opportunity to enjoy a rare glimpse of his full face as he conversed with the men around him. 'He is undeniably beautiful even when he looks like a farmer.' The instant this thought crossed her mind his eyes locked onto hers blushing she quickly looked away.
Mesa and Aisha took her to a small garden behind Mesa's home and introduced her to their children and grandchildren. Maria smiled awkwardly saying hello to each of the little ones but beyond that was stuck for ideas. "This is Nazir, he is my firstborn. We are hoping to send him to Damasq to study with the scholars, he has a strong mind."
As Aisha explained to Maria what she had said, Mesa shoved forward a boy of about 8 who had inherited his mother's stunning hazel eyes and her charming smile. Maria nodded to him and he shuffled forward, "Pleased to see you."
Mesa's young face shone with pride when she spoke and Aisha once more translated, "I have been teaching him English."
"The pleasure is mine Nazir."
A child who lurched more than walked cut an unsteady path forward from behind her mother and smiled shyly out at the woman. "This is Ziana. Nazir is the apple of his mother's eye but she is her joy."
"Your children are beautiful Mesa."
Tahir's appearance stopped the conversation, "The Master has asked me to tell you we will be leaving soon Maria he wants to use what daylight is left."
Mesa moved to the rope were Maria's clothes were flapping in the breeze and Maria felt a pang of regret. Unsure if it was regret at leaving or for seeing this friendly woman handling the uniform of the invaders she could only step forward and take it apologetically from her hands. "Choukran Mesa."
The women embraced her before she climbed back into the saddle and Maria returned them trying to ignore the eyes of the men on her. These women had been warm and kind when Maria had been most in need of it felt natural enough to show that. Once clear of the village Tahir broke the silence. "Their lives are difficult enough Master they should not have to suffer losing their children to the whims of passing bandits or soldiers."
"I will be contacting Malik once I reach Acre to arrange a wider area of our patrols, the men asked for our protection and I have granted it."
Maria remembered something she didn't understand earlier "Is that why Saba's father was thanking you?"
His face once more under the hood became stern, "No, he was thanking me for bringing her back to them."
Malik lifted his head to the setting sun and moved over the loose dirt of the hills to the side of the fortress. His day had been long and eventful but now at last he had time to find a moment to keep a promise he had made. The markers of the graves of the men and women who had lived and died in Masyaf came into sight as he reached the top of the hill but he saw something else, something unexpected.
Rashid and Nijma were sitting on the ground at the entrance to the graveyard with Kaderi lying on the dirt beside them panting happily. The boy sprang to his feet and wiped at his robes as he drew near. But it was the woman who spoke, "Good evening Dai."
He tipped his head to her and returned her greeting before looking hard at the boy. "Rashid why are you here?"
"I have not entered teacher, I walk the dog in the hills and Nijma joined me. We are resting here."
"Go back to the fortress now Rashid before you miss your supper."
He walked until he had passed the teacher then broke into a nervous run. Nijma lifted her eyes to the young man now controlling the fort and clicked her tongue.
"Is something wrong healer?"
"It is not my place to say Malik."
"Yet you still manage to show your disapproval, speak woman."
Her cheeks flushed and she regretted not having put on her veil before she left the fortress but she decided to say what was on her mind. "He walks here morning and night and stops at the entrance. I am aware of his misdeeds but I am also aware of his desire to repent. I doubt it would hinder his progress if you let him go to Tazim's grave."
"I'll consider it Nijma. Have you more business at the fortress or will you be going home now?"
She dropped her eyes from his and wished Azrial was here to put him in his place. "My chores are over for today I shall return to the village."
"Good night to you then."
Her cheeks flushed again but this time Malik was almost sure it was annoyance causing the blood to colour her olive skin. "Good night." She snapped as she brushed past him and pulled the veil on her shoulders over her head. Of the many skills the old healer had taught her the one she probably needed to learn the most was how to deal with these men and not let them make you feel weak but she was yet young and had time to learn.
"Nijma before you go... tell me about Abbas."
She stopped and turned back to him "Azrial has covered his body with soothing balms and gives him water often but he is still in a great deal of discomfort and we are still none the wiser to what caused it."
She left Malik alone on the hill and made her way home to her parents and her brother. Only they remained at home the rest of their siblings were all married and long gone but Nijma had been serving at the castle when Azrial found her and saw something in her and her father had surprisingly agreed to let his daughter learn the skills of healing even if it meant delaying finding a match for her. Almost 20 now and there were days when Nijma wondered what it would be like to be a wife and lie with a man but men like Malik reminded her that most often she was glad to be single and doing something she loved.
Malik watched her leave with his brow creased, the girl was becoming more and more spirited. Azrial was not exactly humble but she knew how far to push. Then he remembered the injured Englishwoman who had spent a great deal of time with their young healer and narrowed his eyes. 'Even with you gone you are still causing me problems Maria Thorpe.'
Returning his attention to his original plans for coming here he entered the graveyard and made his way to the newest marker among them.
The knight tugged at his blanket trying to eliminate any gap the cold air could creep through. The sun was not fully gone from the sky but his long days of travel had exhausted him and he was in need of rest. He had lit a small fire to cook on but had extinguished its flame as soon as that task was complete. Here in bandit country it would be folly to sleep with a fire telling any and all from miles around of your location.
The journey from Jerusalem had become increasingly difficult and the knight couldn't figure out why it should be so, he had made this trip countless times but as one day moved into another he finally found himself able to give a name to the growing feeling of discontent – loneliness. Robert was dead and Maria was with the assassins, for the first time in many years he was going to Acre with no real hope of a friendly face upon his arrival. His father would be there but that would be far from friendly.
Still unsure of what would transpire between them he dreaded that meeting with all his heart but he would confront him and he would fight him. William Marshal was well past his 50th year but his son knew that meant little in terms of his strength physically and emotionally the man was as strong as he had ever been. Curiously the idea that his father could easily overcome him and kill him wasn't what he feared, he feared the opposite... patricide.
"Are you still in Masyaf Maria, did they welcome you as one of their own?" He spoke the words aloud then felt foolish for it but he had thought of her often since sending her away from Homs in the care of those men. Her eyes sparkled when she spoke of the man she had spent all those months with and once he had learned the truth of the conspiracy he felt that was the safest place in the world for her to be. Somewhere she could be safe and happy. For a long time he had hoped that would be something she could find with him but time had proved those hopes to be in vain and now all he wished for her was happiness.
Tahir feigned a drop of his left shoulder but darted to the right and snuck a blow in beneath the Mentor's guard. Altaïr leapt back and managed to avoid contact from the blow but he tipped his sword in recognition of the move.
"Well done Tahir!" Maria clapped happily as she watched the men jostle for position. "You pay too much attention to reputation or sheer size. We are all just as dead with a blade through our guts."
He tried to ignore her, tried to watch the constantly shifting position of his opponent's feet but he was behind almost every step now. "Don't let your eyes wander Tahir you are fighting me focus on only me."
He nodded and raised his sword a fraction higher looking for any possible opening to swing it at but the other blade moved up from beneath and struck his own hard sending it flying uselessly towards the increasingly dark night sky. One more flick of the wrist and his throat was covered by a thankfully friendly blade.
"Well done Mentor." He dipped his head respectfully to the victor.
"You have improved Tahir you held you own for most of the bout but you need to work on your concentration."
"Oh stop fussing Altaïr he did well. Remember most of the men you face won't be as skilled as the deadly eagle of Masyaf and you would have come out on top against a lesser man tonight."
Altaïr dropped his shoulders and sighed "Maria praise is all well and good but he must remain grounded. He did well yes but he could improve."
"His skills are solid it's his confidence which needs a boost and I am trying to do that."
Tahir rolled his eyes and took a long cooling drink from a water skin leaving them to argue about his training. They had managed to put a great many miles between themselves and the village but the gloom he felt had stayed with him even as the place vanished from sight. He felt better now, his energy and his anger spent during a unusually energetic bout with the Master.
Maria too seemed brighter as she stood toe to toe quarrelling with the man who led their order. She had thrown herself whole heartedly into the training, supporting him and advising him. He knew it was superficial, nothing more than a distraction but it felt okay to do it. They had to move on, pick themselves up and be ready to face the next battle and this was how they would do it.
As-salāmu ʽalaykum: Peace be upon you
Choukran: thank you
Marhaba: hello
So this is me just quickly and blandly moving right along for all our sakes :/