Waking up slowly Adira found herself resting on the ground, though there were many comfortable pillows which she rested on. Someone had carried her from the street, but where to? This was not her room. Oh no, had she been kidnapped? Though if she had been kidnapped, surely her captor would have tied her up and not made her as comfortable as possible.

Adira sat up, her hair falling freely in thick blankets around her face. It must have fallen free from its plait during the night. Suddenly she could hear the scratching of a quill against parchment so she rose to her feet, glancing around her.

She was in a fair sized room, with no door save for the one leading into another room. The only way out seemed to be from above, where ivy curled around the wooden hatch work, filtering in the bright morning light.

Looking to the door which led to another room, Adira cautiously walked forwards, slowly lifting her cerulean blue eyes as she looked inside. Instantly she recognised the man who was writing with a quill as the man who had rescued her the night before but, how had he got her in here with the use of only one arm? Underneath his dark coat he wore white robes with a splash of red behind the silver of his belt. Now that it was daylight, she could see him more clearly.

He was an averagely built man, though Adira suspected that there was secret strength behind him. He had a long, slightly hooked nose and a broad jaw that clenched and unclenched often, though his smaller eyes remained passive and expressionless they were dark, signifying intelligence.

"Good morning." Adira spoke warmly. "I apologise for being a burden." The man looked up, his black bearded chin lifting slightly as he scowled. He looked down again. For a while neither spoke so Adira waited, wondering whether she should speak again or just leave him alone.

"You were lucky I was close by. That guard would not have been gentle."

"Yes, I realise my foolishness. I'll be sure to carry a dagger with me if there is a next time." Adira informed with wise eyes. "Again, I apologise and I thank you. I owe you my life."

"You owe me nothing."

"Is there nothing I can do to repay you? I have gold."

"I do not need gold." It was all Adira had to give, so what else could this man want? She did not enter the room but lingered in the doorway in case it was forbidden for her to enter. Growing up with a household full of endless rules, you learn to be mindful of others and their tastes. "And you can save your thanks, I was not the one to carry you here. Although I can manage a little climbing with only one hand, carrying you proved too much of a difficulty."

Opening her mouth Adira paused, wondering how to reply. "All the same. It is you whom I give my thanks to, whether you accept them or not. My name is Adira." She stopped then started again. "May I know your name?"

"It's Malik."

"Malik." She repeated then smiled. "I'm glad to meet you, Malik."

"Don't speak it too often." He scowled at the woman, glancing up from his work. "If you wait for a few minutes, my associate who brought you in will help you climb back out."

"I'm sure I can manage, I've done my fair share of climbing since I was a small girl. If there's anything you think of that will repay your kindness, don't hesitate to ask it." Adira said then bowed her head respectfully before turning away.

"Wait, the climb is awkward." Malik sighed. "And not as simple as walking over rooftops."

"I'm sure I can manage." Adira said smoothly, walking over to the wall where she looked up at the opening, the symbol on the wall catching her eye. Sucking in a deep breath she placed her foot against the wall then gripped onto the fountain, where water trickled free and pooled into the basin.

Lifting herself up Adira balanced carefully them moved on upwards, used to precarious climbing from since she was a tiny child. She had never understood why but her father had always encouraged her to climb and sneak around. There were strong memories of him praising her when she was quiet and other times he beat her for failing to evade detection.

This was hardly a challenge. Adira glanced down to Malik, who blushed and looked away, which made her smile before gripping onto the ledge which would then take her out into the sun. A foot slipped and she squeaked quietly, managing to continue her grip before hoisting herself up the rest of the way, leaning on her stomach as she tried to crawl from the little bureau.

Without warning a firm grip locked around her arms and hoisted her upwards, dragging Adira to her feet as she gasped then tore her hand upwards to strike the fellow but his grip quickly changed to snatch her wrist and hold it back. Adira blinked up at the tall man who was looking down at her from underneath the shadow of his hood. Now she felt a fool.

"Forgive me." Adira apologised, stepping away from him. "You surprised me." The man said nothing. It was then that Adira realised he was wearing similar white robes to Malik.

"Altair, don't frighten the poor girl further. She's been through enough already." Malik called up with a high note of scorn in his voice, the name making Adira snatch her eyes to the man standing before her, narrowing them slightly before looking away again. "Just make sure she doesn't kill herself on the way down to the streets." Adira chuckled, stepping forwards and looking down to Malik.

"Have a good day, sir, and farewell." Turning on her heel Adira strode to the edge of the building, drawing back her shoulders as she slid down gracefully onto a lower roof then continued her walk, knowing that the robed man was following her. Assassin.

The word whispered in her mind and Adira shuddered inwardly. He must have been the shadow that she had seen flit across the moon's lightened path, he was also most likely the one to have brought her into the bureau after she had fainted.

Adira did not look behind her, though her neck twitched to turn. All she had seen were a pair of very fine lips, smooth and broad with a slim scar on the upper fold, lightly dusted with stubble and the tip of an aquiline nose.

She had to get away from him, her common sense told her that much. She couldn't afford any mistakes in her task, which held a precious life on the line. Before Adira could even reach the street and find out where she was, the same strong grip caught her wrist and dragged her back, turning the young woman to forcibly face the assassin.

"You are being rough." She whimpered slightly, cowering away from him. "Please, let me go."

"Be silent." He commanded sharply and Adira heard him shift. She lifted her bright blue eyes up to his face and he paused, albeit only briefly, before blindfolding her.

"Is this necessary?" She demanded in a squeaky tone, frowning slightly as she reached out and tried to feel her way forwards.

"You are not permitted to know where we are." His voice, although beautifully toned and accented, was dark and rather cold. "So silence." When Adira suddenly felt herself being lifted over the assassin's shoulder, she gasped aloud and wriggled, uncomfortable with the contact.

A small memory flashed before her eyes of a similar situation. Where darkness surrounded her and a firm shoulder was grounded against her stomach as she hung limply over the man's back. She had remembered being carried over the roofs as it had been chilly and exposed before dropping down into a place where it was warm and there were soft pillows, though she was unceremoniously dropped down and left.

"I demand you put me down at once!"

"You demand is insignificant." The rumbling voice answered simply as Adira felt them running over the rooftops. "As are you."

"I'm a respectable lady, I'll have you know! I do not attest to being so rudely handled like a sack of oats!" She returned simply. "Put me down!"

"Not yet."

"This is ridiculous, are you always this callous or is it something that you were born with and cannot help." He did not answer so Adira pouted, wondering what to do, apart from continuing to struggle.

"Stop struggling, you're slipping from my grip."

"Perhaps if you would release my arms then I might feel a little safer." Her voice replied smoothly and tartly, wriggling further.

"Then you would remove your blindfold." He had a point, a good one at that. Adira, unable to argue, sighed but went perfectly still. Though she wanted to know where they were going, she did not want to slip from the assassin's grasp and possibly fall to her death, whereby the assassin would then scowl at her broken corpse as if she were a nuisance. Which in a way, she was.

"What are you doing here in Jerusalem? You are either a very strange monk or an even stranger crusader."

"I am neither."

"Oh? Shall I try and guess?" Adira suggested hopefully but she was met with a dark growl.

"No."

"You are no fun at all."

"That is my intention." Sighing impatiently Adira wriggled. For a long time there was silence between them, her cheeks bushing with embarrassment the further they went.

"Can you put me down now?" Altair stopped, smirking to himself.

"As you wish." He said to her then threw the woman from his shoulder. With a startled cry Adira tumbled down, arms and legs flailing before she landed on a large mound of hay in a cart. The fall had been lengthy and her heart hammered wildly in her chest. The moment she was settled she ripped off the blindfold and looked up.

She saw the smug look of Altair's lips before he disappeared from view. "Well. I have never met a man so arrogant and obnoxious!" Adira declared as she dusted herself off then slid down from the cart, her skirts baring her calf for a moment which drew some unwanted attention. "And what are you looking at?" She demanded of the half-drunk men who quickly turned their heads away, throwing sneaky glances back to the woman as she strode forwards.

The streets were already alive despite it being early morning. Adira found herself in the middle district, though her home was towards the richer houses. As a widow, she was a fairly wealthy woman. After her husband's death, his trade had been threatened to die out as no one would work for a woman, so Adira had quickly sold it whilst it was still at a high value then formed her own line of work that brought in steady pay, to make sure she would have enough to last her into later life though she was more than comfortable.

Her late husband's home had been left to her, so costing had never affected her in keeping up payments. It was her house and so there was no rent to pay. Sometimes during difficult days she would let out the spare rooms to those who needed the bed to sleep on, though she had a rule that no courting was to take place within her walls. So far it had been respected.

Opening her door and locking it behind her, Adira gazed at her pots with a proud love. She did well, since pottery was so easily breakable, hers quickly replaced any that broke as Adira made the best jars, pots and vases in all the middle district, since she could carve patterns and designs into them.

She had used some of the money left to her to install a furnace, which was now firing up to finish a few pots that Adira had been commissioned to make for the healer just down the road, who had a clumsy assistant who broke some of his jars with all the herbs inside.

Those who did not know Adira would see her as a simple woman with a simple life, with no high expectations of herself and with little desire for what lies in the richer district. They would be right. It had been her husband, Hassam, who had been the ambition one. He had told her every day that someday, he would walk her into a beautiful home like the ones that overshadowed this house and they would live in luxury. It was a marriage that made Adira content, since her father had arranged it without letting her even consider. Though, Hassam had been kind, patient and had not touched her until she had been ready and found a certain foundation of love for him. Not true love, but a deep affection for his kind nature and good standards.

Adira couldn't understand why strangers thought her to be a virgin, they say men can sniff them out like a dog to a meaty bone. They always made the mistake with her. Though she had no friends, Adira kept her own company and was still content with her pottery. It was a simple life. One that she wanted.

Though sometimes, in her darkest dreams, she'll find herself galloping across open lands, with nothing ahead or behind, a gigantic thump in her heart as the thrill of adventure tantalised her tongue. Then she would wake up. As Adira walked back into her front room she stopped, staring at her table. A single strip of cloth of white lay there, stained with blood. A warning. She had little time, her task must be accomplished before the precious life was taken from her.

Knowing that she had to play her cards as discreetly and carefully as possible, she tossed the strip onto the furnace's flames, turning her back before thinking. What now? Then an idea struck her. Perhaps she could go visit Malik again. The strange scribe might be able to help her, whether he knew it or not.

Gathering some of her stores together Adira placed some bread, wrapped cheese, a small bottle of wine, some grapes then went to the market to buy some tasty pear pieces to take to Malik. By now it was late in the day and Adira had little clue as to where she was going, except for the sounds she had heard when Altair had so rudely blindfolded her and dragged her body halfway across the city.

They had been in the poor district, near a pleasure house. Though there were many of those, there had also been the sound of a blacksmith, which were fewer of them. Even more to the point, Adira had smelled rotten fruit, meaning that there had been a market street close by not too long into the run.

Then there was also the symbol. If she could find the symbol, she would be on the right roof. How hard could it be? Adira pulled up the hood of her cloak, glad that it looked old and tattered so that she would fit in as she walked into the poor district. She kept her head bowed, evading detection like her father had always taught her to do.

No one so much as glanced her way as she followed the general direction of everyone else, listening for a blacksmith and a pleasure house and a rotten fruit stand. Luck seemed to be with her, for just before twilight, Adira found the right street. The fruit was full of flies though people here could not afford anything better. She pitied them, but there was nothing she could do to make a difference.

Sliding into the shadows Adira waited for a couple of guards to pass before placing her basket handle in her teeth then began to climb up, glad that she wore breeches under her dress, since it was far easier to climb in them. Skirts just got in the way.

Adira wandered the roofs discreetly, keeping out of the sight of guards before she spotted the symbol on the surface, boldly gazing at her. She smiled and approached it, making sure no one was watching before climbing down. "Ah, Altair, you're back sooner than I expected." Malik called out. "How did it go?"

"Rather smoothly thank you." Adira replied with a humorous tone as Malik shot to the door and stared at her.

"How…how did…how did you find us again?"

"It wasn't all that hard. I was blinded, not deafened." She answered simply then lifted her basket. "These are for you. I noticed your supplies in there seem a little…wane."

"I…thank you." Malik still stared wide eyed at her. "But I would leave, if I were you. It's not safe for you here. If Altair finds out, he'll kill us both."

"I'm not afraid of him, he's just a large man with appalling manners." She waved her hand aside then walked forwards. "May I come in?" With a soft sigh, Malik nodded his head.

"I suppose you should." He muttered then returned back in to where he wrote, seemingly all day.

"Doesn't that weary you?" Her tone was curious and polite as she set out the items on the table. "Scribing all day?"

"My hand is used to it." He replied with a shrug. "There is little else for me to do."

"I'm sure you could find something. How about painting? Have you tried that?" Easing into conversation Adira sat down on a cushion, making herself comfortable before smiling warmly at Malik who shook his head but joined her.

"No. I haven't."

"Would you like to?"

"I do not think I would have the patience for it." Adira reached out and poured the wine, careful not to spill a drop as the stuff was expensive, a gift from a friend of her late husband. It had been sitting uselessly in her cooler for over a year now, she was glad to be finally rid of it. "This is good stuff."

"It was a gift. I will be the first to admit I have no clue about wines. They all taste the same to me." The young woman toasted her cup to Malik then drank a little before setting it down.

"A gift from whom?"

"A friend of my husband." A surprised look crossed Malik's features before he concealed it again, drawing back to what seemed to be the usual scowl, though it had somewhat lessened. "I see you are surprised."

"I did not think you to be married."

"It was arranged for me by my father." Ardia's eyes darkened considerably, drawing Malik's attention to her sour expression.

"You disapprove of the match?"

"No, Hassam was kind and gentle. Very patient. He never forced me, I was lucky to have been matched with him. It is only my father I disapprove of, because he disapproves of me." Adira cut some cheese and ate a little with the bread. "I was not the son and heir he wanted."

"I see. You say was, your husband is no longer with you?" She shook her head sadly. "I am sorry."

"Don't be, he was a good man and will not suffer before God. I mourned for a year but now I am looking to my future, I have to continue to earn and make a living for myself. It would be what he would have wanted." A soft smile graced Adira's plump lips. "We were never in love, though it was a soft affection that drew us close." Shaking her head she looked at Malik. "How about you, do you have a wife?"

"None."

"She would have to be a great lady to lift your eye, I think." Adira chuckled, taking some pear and chewing it thoughtfully. "You seem a fellow who prefers books to the usual time wasting gameplay men score with women of the streets."

"I indeed am such a man. A book contains knowledge, which is far more useful than having a whore…I mean, a courtesan at your attention." The woman smiled again, not offended by Malik's slip of the tongue.

"Don't worry. I heard nothing." She assured him but then lifted her head when she heard someone drop down into the bureau. Malik stood and walked forwards, frowning before relaxing when he recognised Altair's steps. He turned to assure Adira everything was alright, only to find her cushion empty. He looked around but the room was bare. How did she escape the notice of an assassin?

"Malik." Altair nodded his head.

"Welcome back, friend. Did you accomplish your mission?" In answer the Master Assassin drew a single white feather, stained red with blood before placing it on side.

"My task is done. I will be returning to Masyf at dawn. Are you sure I cannot convince you to come?"

"I am needed here for the moment. You, however, are needed to ensure things return to the way they once were." Malik replied. "You didn't happen to see the girl in the front, did you?"

"Girl? What girl?" Altair frowned then smirked in a teasing manner. "Have you been bending the rules?"

"Not how you might think." Malik growled back, unappreciative of his friend's taunting. "The girl from last night. She found her way back and now she has disappeared."

"What? How? I blindfolded her. She couldn't see a thing!" Altair looked around then noticed the spread on the low table, obviously the girl had returned with the intention of staying a while. Where was she now? She must still be in the room, for no one had passed him on his way in. Altair glanced to Malik then slowly stepped around the counter, looking down into the shadows and space. Nothing.

"Rather impressive, actually, she listened her way here. Obviously she was smarter than you anticipated."

"She's just a woman." Altair growled then stalked out to the front, looking around. Where was she? This was maddening, there was no way a simple girl had slipped past both him and Malik. The odds were entirely against her. Then he heard her chuckle. Malik got to her first, which was just as well, as Altair considered throttling her there and then.

"You know, for seemingly intelligent gentlemen, you did not think to look in the most obvious place." She slipped out from behind the door. "Though, I think some have more intellect than others." She glared pointedly at Altair, making him bristle.

"You should not be here. It is unsafe, you could compromise this bureau with that gossiping mouth of yours." Altair snapped at her, reaching out to grab her arm and throw her outside but Malik stepped in the way, stopping Altair's intentions.

"As an innocent, she has every right to take shelter as we do." Altair could not argue with his friend so he took several steps back, glaring from under his hood.

"And I do not gossip. I owe my life to Malik, I wished to let my gratitude be known. You have no fear of me selling this place to be common knowledge, it would be against my moral standards and, it might endanger Malik." She smiled at him. "So, you see? You are just an uptight monk with his crucifix shoved too far up his own ass."

Unable to contain it, Malik burst out laughing. Altair blinked in surprise but did not allow the reaction to be seen on his visible features, merely remaining tall and still as Malik continued to chortle. Altair had never heard him laugh before, it was a strange sound but not unpleasant, a rather deep and warm laughter that would encourage others to join in. That is, if the others weren't glaring daggers at one another.

When Malik's laughter finally died down, he leaned back against the counter. "Well, that wine is too good to just sit there. How about you join us Altair? Maybe it will help you relax with our guest around."

"She is to leave as soon as you are done." Altair replied sharply, still glowering at Adira who lifted her chin. "Once she has finished…thanking you." His meaning was not lost on her.

"Get out of my presence, you filthy mouthed mongrel!" She ordered with a sharp, commanding tone whilst pointing to the door. "How dare you speak to me as if I am no better than a…just get out!" Altair shifted his weight then slowly approached, growing bigger with every step as he attempted to intimidate the woman. She did the unexpected.

Adira took a large step forwards, meeting Altair with a raised chin so he stopped, his chest almost touching hers. Although she glared at him with unbridled fury, the fire only served to make Altair desire the woman. Her plump, smooth lips were set in a hard line and the urge to capture them slammed into him unexpectedly. Altair had always liked women with fire, ones that presented a challenge, though none had ever actually challenged him. They never were bold enough to stand toe to toe with him like this woman.

Glancing her over secretly Altair admired the curvaceous shape of her body, though it only fuelled his want for her. He needed to leave, before he did something stupid that he was going to regret. Malik shifted uncomfortably, preparing to step in when Altair smoothly looked past Adira and left the bureau undercover of night. There was only one place he could go. He needed a woman, any woman would do.

Though he was sure no women he had ever had before had eyes as electrifying as hers. Theirs were all dark, either brown or black. At least one or two could play hard to get before eventually caving in to him.

"Where was he raised? A sewer?" Adira muttered under her breath as she returned to the low situated table where the spread remained.

"I have often wondered." Malik shrugged, joining her again. "Altair cares very little for strangers, even if they are very beautiful women." Adira smirked a little and spoke in a teasing tone.

"You think me beautiful?"

"A man would have to a blind fool to not notice." Malik replied simply. "And since I am neither, yes, I say you are a very fine woman. Your husband was not the only lucky one." A light blush touched Adira's cheeks as she looked away modestly. "How did he die?"

"Dysentery." She was lucky to have not caught the disease. "He had stopped for water in the poor district when conducting business with a new client of his. I have no idea why or what for, I never asked about his work."

"Forgive me for asking, but what was his full name?"

"Hassam Al-Enezi." The recognition only reached Malik's' eyes but he hid it well from the rest of his features. This was indeed surprising news, one of their own partners had married this woman. Hassam was well known for supplying the Creed with information, weapons and general needs to any who found sanctuary with him.

This woman, though not fully, was connected with his people, whether she realised it or not. "So tell me, what do you do all day that somehow does not even affect your hand?" Adira continued, sliding a grape into her mouth then chewing slowly as the tight skin burst to release its juices onto her ravished tongue.

"Documenting, copying, things like that." Malik answered with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I will not look to bore you."

"Very well." Adira's light chuckle warmed Malik to her. She seemed a good, kind woman who didn't mean any harm. "Is Altair really a monk? He seems a little…faithless to be one." Adira continued carefully, not wanting to seem nosy. "It's just, you both wear white robes yet I don't see any religious items in this room."

"We are monks of a sort." Malik trod his way through carefully. "We like to simply keep the peace."

"Oh, I see. That's good of you." Though she could not imagine Altair being one of the kinder peace makers. More like a ruthless villain, if you asked her. "I still not understand that man."

"Altair is a complex character, one best not to be touched. He likes his solitary, is suspicious of everyone, uses women to his own pleasure and lives to lead. I think best if you stay away from him, Adira, because although he'll never force a woman, he's not kind either. He might hurt you by accident."

"Truly?" Adira pretended to look surprise. "If he wanted his way, why doesn't he force it? Many other men do."

"Altair was raised with a high respect for women. He's vowed to never harm them so deeply. Underneath, I suspect that he is really a better man than he pretends to be. I have known him for a very long time." The woman could sense a history of happenings between these two. There seemed to be a relaxed calmness where there was once tension.

"Well, let's just say I'll be glad to never see him again." Adira declared before sipping at some more wine.