She felt his saliva trickle down her cheek as his body shifted atop hers trying to hold his prey steady. Fear had utterly gripped her for a few short seconds when he pinned her to the floor but saliva was very much a human thing. This was no demonic force clambering over her body; he was a man no more and no less. She stilled her struggles for a time just enough to lure him into relaxing or to learn his intentions but there was no cessation of his movements. He was trying to get both her wrists with one hand to free his other. Her arms went limp and he seized his chance, locking his fingers around her wrist he lowered his other hand to her throat.
"I wish I could see you but beggars can't be choosers."
His fingers tightened around her windpipe at the same time his head drew closer to her face, his foul breath was better than daylight for helping her judge the distance between them. He pressed harder and her quiet choking gasps for air almost sent his excited mind spiralling out of control. He laughed uncontrollably as he felt her head begin to move from side to side; as he felt her futile efforts to escape his clutches.
She pushed her head as far to the right as she could, fighting the first waves of dizziness as he cut of her oxygen supply but she did not panic. When she felt her face pressed fully into the floor beneath her and knew she had achieved as much distance for momentum as she could she swung her head rapidly up and forward. She felt his teeth dig into her forehead as it connected with her mouth and the bright explosion of light in her brain should have robbed her of her chance to shift him but it was no whore who lay beneath him now. She was a soldier and she had beaten far better men than him.
She balled her trapped hands into one huge fast and easily broke free from the grip of a man who had likely not been fed in days. His head was still raised from her head butt and her fists connected hard and cleanly with his upper nose. His turn to fight off the bright lights...
Tossing her hips she shifted him from above her but there was no desperate scramble for freedom – not from her at least. She threw a leg over his body and straddled his waist and her hands began a search for his face. She took hold of either side of his head and lifted it up from the stone floor, holding it there for a second before she forced his skull into the unforgiving concrete. The crack was loud and his head must have been reeling but she knew the force had not been enough to kill him, probably not even enough to knock him out. Adjusting her hands she tried to once more lift him but his hair was now slick with blood and her hands slipped.
His fingers splayed over her face and she felt his tips frantically trying to dig into the sockets of her eyes. She shook her head and caught one of his fingers in her mouth the sound of crushing bone seemed be coming from inside her own head as she bit down with all she had. His hand came free from her mouth but it was now short half an index finger. With power fuelled with outrageous fury he threw her from his body and heard the crack as her head connected with the table which stood against the wall.
"You bit me you bitch I wasn't going to hurt you, not really and you do this to me."
She could hear him coming across the floor to find her and she forced herself up from the ground. At least now she had her bearings, she was at the table and she knew what hung along the wall above this blood stained piece of apparatus. A loud thump told her he had reached the table too and she uttered a short prayer that he was oblivious to the weapons on the wall. She moved quickly her hands searching the wall for something colder than the stone, something she could use. A sharp sting ran up her arm but she ignored the pain interested only in finding what had caused it. Her fingers wrapped around the wooden handle of God alone knew what and she hefted it from its bed on the wall. The zing of metal on stone told her that her opponent not only knew what was on the wall but had armed himself. Moving away from the table as silently as she could she let her fingers wander over the weapon she now clutched to her chest trying to indentify its best possible use if not its name.
She grinned when she felt the unmistakably rectangular blade of the cleaver. 'I hope you have found something long my friend because one good swing from this beast will have your fucking head off!'
"You can't hide forever I've been here for days I know this room like the back of my hand. I can feel the heat from your body."
For once in her eventful life Maria Thorpe managed the impossible – she kept her mouth shut and used his voice as he intended to use hers – as a guide.
She moved slightly back from the direction she believed him to be in, she needed to be sure.
"I can hear you breathing I'm coming for you."
The soles of her leather boots made no sound as she took three cautious steps towards him then stopped when she heard his unsteady shuffle move. He was actually coming towards her but he had to be relying on dumb luck she had given no sign of her position.
"If you come to me cleanly I will end it quickly I really don't want to hurt you I just don't want you to talk anymore."
A gust of air followed by the familiar whoosh of steel cutting the air passed inches from her face. Her reaction was swift and sure. She lifted the cleaver high over her head and swung it in a downwards arc toward what she hoped would be his body. Steel cutting bone was another sound she would know anywhere, she heard his short stunned yelp then his body dropping to the ground.
The soldiers outside the room looked to the knight who stood behind them with his arms folded over his chest. He nodded to the door, "Open it and throw her body into the ocean and then kill that murdering dog."
The soldier opened the door and much like Stephen had once before he held the torch before him to let the flame lead him to her body. She was in the middle of the room standing over her intended killer's corpse a knife in hand and a scowl on her face which promised she had plenty left if they wanted to take her on. She looked past the minion trying to focus on the man with the white robes behind him. "William Marshal no less. Why does it not surprise me you would try to get others to do your dirty work for you?"
He sneered but chose to ignore her, "Go inside and kill her now."
The soldier holding the flaming torch looked to the man behind him, "On you go then."
Both men peered in at her. Blood from her forehead was covering her face and her tunic was almost black with the blood of the man on the floor. She rolled her head around her shoulders and parted her feet in readiness.
He stepped forward mostly unwilling to put his body anywhere near that awful looking blade but he knew Marshal would kill him if he refused, at least this way he had a fighting chance...
She watched him come, his sword tentatively held before him and she knew he was coming to die. He was too afraid to fight and too cowardly to refuse, she had seen it in battle many times before...
With lightening speed her foot slammed into his gut and when his body doubled forward the blade ripped through the flesh of his neck as though it were butter. He fell to his knees and his last inglorious words on this earth were lost to his whimpering. Freeing the cleaver from his neck was no easy task she had to heave it at three times just to dislodge it from his collar bone but the hideous sounds the blade made were enough to stop the other soldier advancing.
"Come to me William let us have no more pointless bloodshed. Come now and face me like a man."
She heard him sucking air through his teeth and watched as he closed his hand over the golden hilt of a sword King Richard himself had gifted him but then his head moved to this left although it was a few more seconds before she could hear the distant voices which had caught his attention. "He dropped the sword back into its sheath, "Another time my dear I have an appointment elsewhere."
She returned the sickly sweet smile he offered, "I look forward to it."
The door closed and the darkness flooded the spaces the light had left behind. She stayed still for a few seconds before she moved carefully past the body now behind her and made her way to the far wall. She lowered herself to the floor and waited no longer in fear of what was to come, her enemy was real it had a face and would bleed if she fought skilfully enough to injure him. William Marshal was skilled in all weapons and would beat her easily but that mattered little. She would never fear that which she could meet head on and lift her own blade to.
How long he had sat there transfixed by his own blade he could never say but when he tried to stand his legs were stiff so he knew it had been a while. He got to his feet with no more desire to live than he had when he was on the ground but he could not reconcile himself to a pointless death. Better to aim his sword at the enemy and die in a wild attack than to pierce his own skin and let his life blood trickle into the soot he knelt in.
Was this why Altaïr had managed so many impossible victories? That he would throw himself into the path of danger daring it to end him and his loveless existence. Tahir was heartbroken but he was no fool, he knew full well he lacked the skill of the great Master of the assassins and would never survive most of the encounters he had. He exited the roofless shack which had been her home and made his way into the street littered by broken furniture and belongings left behind in their panic to flee the soldiers and the disease. Before he turned the corner he stopped, he wanted to look back to the far end of the street and try to imagine her standing at her house but he kept his face forward. Forcing one foot in front of the other he made the short walk to the bureau.
The streets were unerringly quiet – the sick were at the hospital and the healthy were either hiding at home or on their knees in church praying to be spared. He crossed over the square in front of the bureau and standing still he cocked his head. He could hear shouting in the distance it seemed to be coming from the direction of the docks. On any other day he would followed those shouts to discover the source of the disruption but he dropped his head and trudged on towards the ladder hidden in the shadows of the bureau.
He passed an assassin going in the other direction – the one he should have been taking. "Do you know what is going on?"
"No I came from another district."
"Did you not think you should perhaps investigate the disturbance?
He watched him begin his ascent of the ladder waiting for an explanation as to why the novice was neglecting the most basic of his duties.
"No I didn't."
Shrugging he left the lazy boy to his own devices but regretted not being in the bureau to witness the Master's reaction to his insolence.
Stephen followed his father along the chilled stone corridors of the keep at his own suggestion they were "Going somewhere quiet". "Samir wrote to me and told me of your exploits in Jerusalem. He assured me you would be escorted back to me unharmed." He glanced over his shoulder "I see for the most part he kept his word."
"He kept his word I was unharmed the burns are from another encounter."
They turned into William's private quarters and the older man strode confidently to the chairs positioned in front of the open fire. "I haven't even been to bed yet so we might as well be comfortable while we have our tete-a-tete."
He took the high back chair opposite his father and leaned forward "Let's begin with honesty Father, we both know what I have learned and any denial on your part would only add to the offence."
"I am a member of the Knights Templar but within that order there is another smaller group who are fully versed on all of our clan's workings. I too am a member of this sub order if you will."
"You seek to gain dominion over the people in the Holy Land?"
The heavy drapes were still drawn from the previous night and most of the room lay in shadow. William leaned toward his son; one side of his face lit by the fire the other in gloomy darkness. "We seek to control far more than this land my boy but not for power or greed." Folding his hands between his legs he continued. "To understand our goals you must be aware of our origins. Yes you know the basic truth that Hugues de Payens and eight of his fellow soldiers from the first crusade joined together to form an order of men who would renounce their worldly wealth to the order and devote their time to protecting pilgrims who travelled to the holy places but there was more to it than that...
All of the men who made the journey to Jerusalem with Hugues were his blood kin and he knew them to be trustworthy and God fearing. They approached Baldwin, the king of Jerusalem to request a holy place within the city to establish a monastic base. He granted them use of the Temple Mount which they readily accepted but they pushed for more, saying it would be sacrilege for them to sleep on such a holy site. Baldwin acquiesced and granted them exclusive use of Solomon's Temple. Surprised by their acceptance of this ruined although undeniably holy site but his relief at being able to pacify the group at so cheap a cost far outweighed his suspicion.
They built small shelters at the foot of the Temple Mount which over the years gradually became sturdier more permanent buildings but the first knight's whose name would grow from their association with this location were not so concerned with the surface ruins of the once great Temple, it was what lay beneath which held them all at this place for almost a decade. Searching through the collapsed tunnels and risking being buried alive on many occasions for one small artefact they had become convinced lay somewhere in the debris – The Sangreal.
Hugues de Payens travelled extensively to Europe earning support and funds for their cause, a simple task for a man on such a holy quest. The church was as eager as the knights that they should uncover the cup of Christ and their support for the mission with both men and money became a bottomless pit. The order grew as more came to join the quest and even when Hugues and his original band of men left suddenly after many years most of the others remained awaiting further orders. They were sent out into the farthest corners of the known world and many of them died but a few returned bearing the small trinkets they had been sent to seek out.
"Now you believe or you are led to believe that those first brothers were successful in their search for the Grail but the truth if far more impressive than some mere cup. They found a relic which looked ancient but was beyond their understanding. It resembles a pendant but was crafted from a material which was lighter than paper but stronger than steel. This pendant showed them a map of sorts – not any sort of cartography we could recognise for the most part but further research proved it to be so. There were various locations on this image projected from the pendant and men were dispatched there. They found the first apple and a staff. They dispatched the staff to the pope as reward for his continued support but gradually the knights came to understand that the items they had found had nothing to do with God."
"They lie to us when we join; we are told our true goal is to protect the relics of Christ." Stephen's face remained impassive but his father could hear his ever noble son's disdain.
"It was not a lie, not for a long time. Hugues was dead and buried for almost a decade before the men who came after him gradually began to understand its true origins. These artefacts are immensely powerful and initially it was their intention to keep them hidden from men who would abuse them but in time they dared to imagine a higher purpose than protection – salvation." Unable to contain his enthusiasm now he got to his feet and paced the floor, becoming more animated with each passing second. "Imagine it Stephen no more war, want or crime. A world led by men like us, men of good intention. It would be the paradise we have falsely been promised in the ancient texts we war over."
Getting to his feet he met his father's enthusiasm with fury. "Blasphemy Father! You seek to explain your deeds by defaming God have you no shame?"
"There is no God Stephen these things – the places we found them in. They are older than Christ, older than Moses. For all we know they are older than Adam! We have been misled and misinformed but don't trouble yourself to believe the man who made you. I have proof to back up my opinion, I don't require your faith merely your intellect."
"What proof do you have Father? The assassins have the apple."
"Did you not listen to me my boy? I told you a few men returned having retrieved what they were sent to find. We have nothing as powerful as the apple but we do have other trinkets."
His mind went back to the poor souls he had seen slain in Homs "Show me."
Altaïr watched Tahir walk into the main room of the bureau but kept his eyes on the space behind him waiting for what would undoubtedly be an irate Maria to appear. "Where is Maria?"
"She left me at the gate I went to look for Gwen and she went to find you."
"She hasn't arrived here."
"Strange Master, that you should be so concerned with her whereabouts now."
Tahir spoke from the darkness which was suffocating him and his words although ill tempered were spoken without fear. The other men in the bureau stopped dead and looked at the young man who had just shown such disrespect to the Mentor.
"Come with me now Tahir." Altaïr's voice was steady but his jaw was set tight. Tahir opened his mouth but closed it again when the Master took one step towards him. "Now Tahir I will not repeat this again."
He followed him into the back of the bureau expecting to feel the master's blade or at least his hand strike out at any second but no blow came. He opened a door and stood aside to make space for him to enter. "Explain yourself boy."
Tahir felt the first sensation of fear but ignored it he had nothing left to lose. "You left us Master without a word. If you felt us weak or unreliable you could have had the decency to tell us that. Maria was greatly wounded by your lack of faith."
"I left to find and kill the men who would threaten her but I left her with you Tahir! A brother and someone I thought I could trust to escort her. Had I saw any weakness in you I would never have given you with such a task. You failed Tahir, you were to bring her here to me instead you have left her wandering the city exposed to any who would harm her."
Tahir stepped back from the sting in the words and the growing threat in the face of the man berating him. "I-I never saw it like that. You left us with no instruction, how was I to know what you wanted?" His bravado collapsed under the intense scrutiny he was now being subjected to "Master I saw the sickness and how wide spread it was and could think only of Gwen. I'm sorry."
"When did you see her last Tahir?"
"We entered the city a little after first light and I swear she was so angry with you I was sure she would seek you out without delay."
"Gwen is in the next room being cared for by your brothers. Go to her and be thankful you left her in the care of someone trustworthy, Uilleam never failed you."
Shame and relief battled to gain the upper hand and the novice had the decency to acknowledge the former. "I truly am sorry Master let me see Gwen for a moment and I'll go into the streets and find her for you."
"Go to her Tahir and leave Maria to me."
"Master..."
"I must shoulder some of the blame as you said I left no instructions but I assumed you would know to bring her here Tahir you fought beside her against the men who control this city you had to know this is not a safe place for her." He could understand the plight of the young man but not the choices he made, duty should come before all including love. "Go see to your intended Tahir."
The door creaked open and a small candle burned beside the cot. He was beside her in seconds kneeling on the floor hardly able to believe his eyes. Her cheeks burned red and when his hands brushed the hair from her face he could feel the heat which caused this colour. "Can you hear me Gwen?"
She shifted in her sleep but her eyes remained closed. "Let her sleep Tahir, her body is weak and rest will aid her recovery."
He closed his eyes and let his head drop to her chest not caring that the old man was watching and probably disapproving.
"You spoke out of turn to the Master I hope you realise you are lucky to be in one piece."
"I believed he had lost faith in me and Gwen was dead Dai; desolation is my only defence. I will accept my punishment without contest."
"He left the instant you came in here. All of your brothers have been scattered to the four corners of the city to find her."
Even as he spoke to the old man he never took his eyes from her face. "I'll join the search too I just had to see her with my own eyes."
He felt a hand on his shoulder, "Stay with her and be glad of the time you have from this moment on. You are fortunate novice that the master understands the pain of lost love." He moved to the ewer and poured her some water. "He carried her here to keep her safe for you."
Tahir's chest heaved as understanding finally dawned on the young man. The master did love Maria so much so that he would incur her hatred before he would see her harmed and Tahir had left her alone in the streets to fend for herself. He clasped his hands around hers and whispered to her. "I love you Gwen but I have erred and must make it right. Jabal when she opens her eyes tell her I was here and Allah willing I will return to her soon." He kept her hand in his for as long as he could before he let it drop back onto the bed.
A/N and it seems to be working now chapter 40 and 41 together.
Sorry about the dull Templar history bit but I wanted to include it for my own reasons, mainly that I'm a huge fan of the Templars :D