Maria stood at the edge of the market place and tried to work out her next step. She had been on Cyprus for almost two days and she was only now beginning to make progress in her search for William. God knows she had heard enough rumours and fairytales to write an entire book but only in the past few hours had she managed to learn anything of any value. Two sailors were complaining about the weight of the chests they had been forced to transport to a house in the hills behind the city, sailors she knew served on the ship Marshal had sailed on. She felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of her neck and had to stop her hand on its path below her niqab to wipe the uncomfortable moisture. She donned the traditional clothes of the women in the area with some reservations but now that she had spent a couple of days in the disguise she had to admit they had real benefits – she could move unseen almost anywhere in public and they kept the worst of the sun from her pale flesh.
Everything she had ever watched the assassin do while she was his captive had angered her, his stealth she considered cowardice and his sneaking around spying on people she had believed were not the actions of a noble soldier but having employed almost every trick she had learned from him since arriving on the island she now understood just how much skill it took to be invisible. Stepping away from the stall she had pretended to browse she lowered her head and walked slowly through the throngs of people. It would be evening soon and a woman alone in the daytime was risky enough but to seen at night would only invite curiosity and trouble. Making her way back to the abandoned fisherman's shack she had made her home she tried to focus on the task at hand and not let her thoughts of the assassin cloud her mind.
Once safely away from the market place she allowed herself to stop and look up towards the hills she would be climbing the following day. There were not that many houses once you got past the tiered shacks of the peasants cut into the hillside and William would certainly never live among that sort. She looked past those to the small dots closest to the sky and smiled, "You are there somewhere and if it costs me my last breath I will find you."
She kept her head down when a local woman greeted her as she passed and moved down the next side street she passed. Her shack was on the shore and away from the pretty houses which dotted the picturesque shoreline and by the time she reached it the sun was beginning to descend and the streets behind her had quietened down.
The single room shack was bare save for the few items she had brought with her and the food she had bought when she first arrived. Since the shack sat on the an isolated but high point of the shoreline she hadn't dared to light a fire to keep warm when the sun went down and as with the other two nights once she had eaten her now stale bread she hunkered down in the corner and tried to wrap herself into a ball to keep warm. Naturally enough her mind wandered to happier times when she had lay in bed with the assassin in Masyaf and had felt both warm and happy but those thoughts only served to makes her bones feel more chilled and Maria forced herself to think of something else.
"You are damn right I am properly attired, I earned these robes a long time ago." Letting a smirking Altaïr lift her onto her horse Maria looked ahead to her friend. His expression was sullen and he head was hanging low on his shoulders. Clicking her tongue she pushed her horse into a trot to catch up with the Englishman, "How are you feeling Stephen?"
"I'll be honest I've had better days." Still his head was low but Maria felt he was trying to avoid making eye contact.
"Are you angry with me?"
"No." He shook his head and sighed.
She could have been more tactful when telling him of his father's wrong doing but tact had never been her strong point. Jollying this big stupid man out of his low moods however was usually easy. "You look tired." Reaching over to his mount she took hold of his reins and tried to pull them from his hands, "Let me guide you for a while."
His hand slapped at hers as he practically howled his displeasure. "You never ever touch a man's horse Maria, take your hand away.
"Don't be so stubborn Stephen you seem incapable of lifting your head to see the road ahead so I shall take care of it for you."
"We'll see how well you can guide me with your arse in the dust behind me." Shoving at her he pushed her from her saddle but kept hold of her so she didn't actually fall. He chuckled when she shrieked and grabbed his arm for support. "There now are you happy? I smiled."
"Not happy per say but happier at least." She glanced behind to reassure herself that none of the men behind had heard her pathetic scream before turning back to Stephen. "You know I really am sorry that your father turned out to be such a bastard but speaking as one who has spent a lifetime with such a man I can say it gets easier."
Rolling his eyes he grunted, "Is that your idea of comfort?"
"Don't be absurd my idea of comfort is a warm bath and soft bed I was merely trying to tell you that we both have shite fathers."
"We do at that."
They rode on in silence for a few short minutes with Stephen pretending to take in the view and Maria trying to think of something to say but it was he who broke the silence. "That artefact the assassin has do you know it's not the only item of its nature?" Her surprised look told him she did not know so he elaborated telling her all that had passed with his father that morning. "The oddest thing Maria was the scar on his hand. It never healed but it did look less scarred if that makes sense?"
Thinking of the burns on his face and neck she wondered if he was considering trying it out and was about to pursue that line of thought but he once more beat her to the punch. "By all accounts the apple is far more powerful than the "Trinket" my father showed me but I suspect neither of them has a place within the realm of man. They must never be in the hands of a man who would wonder what he could do rather than stop to think about what he should do. When this is over I shall return to England and forget I was ever part of this order, it is rotten to the core and I can't continue to serve under those circumstances. Even if I stayed in the holy land I doubt I could ever be at peace with those things being so nearby."
"You don't like the fact Altaïr has the apple and to be honest neither do I but he is a good man, truth be told he could be a great man Stephen and if there is anyone who would destroy it rather than abuse it its him."
He turned to her with his eyebrows high and his mouth in something close to a smile, "You think a great deal of him?"
She nodded and added, "He is not affected by a hunger for power or wealth. His weakness is learning and that he can do without harming anyone."
His turn to glance over his shoulder he looked back at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "I can see he is the sort of man women would find attractive, if you like that sort of thing."
"Oh you mean the tall dark and handsome thing...?"
"Yes there is that but he's not exactly blessed with charm is he?"
Maria grinned, "He is an acquired taste." She in fact found him to be utterly charming when the occasion suited and serious the rest of the time and for her that was the perfect mix but her friend was only making conversation besides which it was none of his bloody business.
"Will you go home with him when this is over?"
She bit her gum and shrugged "His men were not entirely welcoming to me and why on earth should they be?"
"Don't tell me the great Maria Thorpe would let a few disapproving men stand between her and what she wanted."
She wanted to say her concerns were more for him and how his men would react to their leader taking a former Templar to live among them but instead she smiled "You know me so well."
"I used to feel so sorry for the new recruits when you trained them." Her mock shocked expression brought a far more genuine smile to his face, "Maria you made one of them cry."
The truth was she had reduced far more than one lazy soldier to tears but she knew which particular youngster he was referring to because Stephen had talked about it for days. "He should have known better than to question my orders."
"What was it you said to him?"
She smirked "I told him he could either use my training to help him become a man or I would use my dagger to force him to become a woman."
His laughter was hale and hearty and it made Maria happy to hear it. "You really do have problems with masculinity Maria."
"I do not the only people who have a problem with it are those men who think being born a certain gender makes them better than me."
Her head dropped from the wall onto her shoulder and she grunted as she woke up. Remembering what was, possibly the last time she had seen Stephen alive was painful but at least it helped her to focus her mind on the task at hand and stop fussing about such petty discomforts as a chill in the air. Her initial thoughts had been that Stephen was dead but when Uilleam said he had been seen being carried onto a ship her mind has instantly gone to the artefact William had. Would he use it to heal his son? She had absolutely no doubt that he would not hesitate and even if she found the idea utterly incredulous she had decided she had no choice but to follow them and make certain he was not trying to perform his devilry on her friend. Stephen would die before he would ever let himself fall under the spell of anything so ungodly and Maria had to be certain this had not been his fate. Drawing her knees to her chest she once again wished for the arms of her lover but fell asleep alone.
Jabal squared his shoulders in preparation for the upcoming confrontation and pushed open the door. The Mentor was not only no longer in bed he was fully clothed and beginning to don his weapons. "Master I understand your urgency but I must insist you reconsider travelling so soon after your injury."
Altaïr replied without taking his eyes from his buckles, "The sooner I return to Masyaf the sooner I can fully recuperate."
"Masyaf, when Tahir told me you about your plans to leave I assumed you would be going to Limassol."
"Maria made her choice although what part of her former life she intends to return to I cannot imagine she will be even more unwelcome among her old brothers than we was with ours."
Jabal bowed his head and began walking to the door. "Then the poor woman has my pity."
He actually stopped working at his straps and barked at his Rafiq "What do you mean by that?"
"Forgive me Mentor I am an old man and I tend to speak as I see things but she left for Limassol precisely because of her brother, one of the strongest bonds there is. For you to now show her disrespect for that is disheartening."
"She told Tahir she left to return to her former life."
"She told you she was going to be there for Stephen in his time of need and from what I overheard it cost her no small amount of pain to make the decision to leave your side."
"Speak sense Jabal she had no such words with me."
Jabal nodded and smiled "I'm sure Tahir told you exactly what she said but I heard her speaking to you when you were unconscious and the words she spoke then were just as I told you but we must remember she is only a woman and as such would be incapable of bending the truth to get her own way."
Altaïr felt the knot in his gut loosen slightly "She left to help Stephen how exactly?"
"That I do not know Master, we believe him to be dead or dying but she obviously felt she had unfinished business." Jabal by now was utterly pleased with himself. His respect for the young Master was growing by the day but it never hurt the young ones to be put in their place once in a while. "A trip to Limassol for at least one high ranking assassin might be in order. Your friend Markos has requested help to establish a permanent bureau on the island to say nothing of the trouble the headstrong young woman will likely find herself in. Shall I select one of the brothers or would you prefer to make the choice?"
"I'll make the trip myself Jabal."
The old man bowed one last time before he pulled the door shut behind him. Altaïr lifted his vambrace and slid it over his left hand. "What on earth are you doing in Cyprus Maria?" He had been livid when Tahir told him she had left to rejoin her brothers and now he knew it was far more likely a personal mission he was no less angry, it simply made her leaving easier to swallow – she hadn't left him exactly she had left to aid her friend. By now she had half a day's head start on him and that was likely to be extended unless he could bribe some sailors to leave a night early and a catch short on their return to Cyprus.
Every breath he took stung his chest but he knew the crossing to Cyprus would give him more time to recover and it wouldn't have mattered either way. Maria would be considered an enemy and a target of the Templars and he would fight them on one leg to defend her.
Tugging her bow over her shoulder she patted the sword on her side one last time before she slipped into her disguise. It would be horribly warm wearing these clothes on top of her tunic but it was the safest way to get into the hills. She had made the short walk to the market at first light to buy food and refill her water skins before too many guards were out and about. Dressed in her grey tunic and leggings knowing full well her accent would betray her if she tried to make those purchases while dressed as a local. The best she had found was some dried meat and bread but she stuffed them into her satchel and pulled open the door of the shack and braced her body to face the harsh wind coming from the ocean. It would take days of walking and searching to track them down but she was in no hurry.
Two days into her search Maria had to pick fruit to supplement her supplies but finding water was easier – where there were homes there were wells. She kept to the trees and fields for the most part and avoided any contact with the people she saw only moving into populated areas to check for signs of the Englishmen. By the end of the second day the houses had become far more sporadic and she could walk for an hour or more before she would see another occupied domicile. The last one of the day had given her some hope. It had been the grandest of the buildings so far but the family living there had been German.
The assassin tried to steady his body against the rocking of the boat. The wind had been strong all day but as darkness had begun to fall those winds had increased to the point of discomfort. The waves which had been slapping against the side of the boat now spilled over onto the deck and carried them along with them for several feet. Taking one last look at the sketch he had been working on he rolled in into a tube and carefully placed it in his pouch. He knew he had drawn her with a stern expression on her face and perhaps his own feelings were more of an influence on that than her personality but he felt the look was fitting.
Getting to his feet he moved to the sailors and helped them steady the boat against the waves. They were probably not in danger of sinking, he had suffered far worse than this on the ocean but all hands would be needed to make it through this gale. Finally, after hours of bailing water and endlessly retying ropes things eased off. The assassin took up his former position at the back of the boat and set his eyes in the direction of Cyprus. His robes were saturated but he knew his pouches would have protected his belongings from the water and so he was unconcerned.
Late afternoon of the following day Maria trudged wearily on. The heat was making this trek far more strenuous than it needed to be but she persisted. There was a house on the horizon which she would probably reach by dusk and even if it wasn't the house she sought it would be as good a place as any to stop for the night. Most of the day's walking had been over rocks and her legs were aching but her spirit was undaunted. Every place she passed was one less place to check and made it more likely that she was closing in on them.
Her logical mind knew she was far more likely to find Stephen dead and buried and if that was case then she would count her blessings and deal with his father but in the lonely dark hours of night her imagination would conjure up all manner of horrors and she couldn't shake the feeling of dread those had left her with. Solitude could be the best of companions to a cluttered mind and Maria certainly used the time alone to sort through her thoughts, most of them relating to the assassin.
With the prospect of facing William Marshal, one of the greatest swords in Europe looming large she struggled to think too far into the future but when she did dare allow herself to dream Altaïr was the one ever present. She couldn't imagine a life without him and although the idea of a life with him held terrors of its own she knew if they were given another chance she would seize it with both hands and never let it go.
Stephen had not been wrong in his assessment Altaïr would never be noted for his charm or his social graces but as much as he was introverted he was sincere. He was driven by a keen sense of duty and fairness and he would never compromise his beliefs above all she respected him for that. He held onto his values even when he learned the man who had imparted those ideals to him had been corrupted. That the source was weak did not alter the truth of his creed and she knew he would devote his life to his order and its task. Months spent with him, listening to his words and considering his actions had taught her a great deal but the deaths of the innocents she had witnessed taught her more. All the years she had spent fighting for the Templars had been misguided and even if she died facing Marshal would be her proudest moment. It would be the moment when she would stand up for Ceana and the others and reject oppression. It had taken her a while to understand the assassin but she knew his cause was just and his heart was true.
A/N I know not much happens in this chapter but I sort of feel it has a place in the fic. 47 chapters down 2 to go :D