CHAPTER 5:

Not In Kansas Anymore

"We're camping here for the night" Altaïr declared to his party as he climbed off his horse with tired muscles and unhitched his belongings off the auburn colored steed, casting a suspicious glance to the guest of their group. The woman irritated him to no end since they began their morning journey and her constant nagging drilled into his brain like a metal spike. There was only so much he could take before he expertly executed her in private and left her corpse in a ditch somewhere to be picked at by vultures.

He tied the lead of his horse to a sturdy tree that was clear of bothersome rocks which would give the stallion no problems during sleep. Malik chose a nearby tree for his own horse and showed Vivian the easy but important procedure of tying the leads. However, the dim lighting of the approaching night wasn't doing wonders for her sight.

What I'd give for a flashlight right about now, she thought miserably and groaned aloud when she tied her own wrists into the lead, stomping the ground with an aggravated frown. This prehistoric age would kill her with exhaustion instead of danger! Malik took pity on the woman and untied the leather straps from her hands, freeing her, to wrap them tightly around the trunk of the tree in the correct manner.

"Thank you, you can see that I'm at a loss on everything" she mumbled sheepishly and patted the snout of her horse as the mare licked her face. She couldn't help but smile at Shadowfax's gentle temperament and promised her a treat. . .Vivian didn't exactly know what horses liked but she'd ask and find out. The poor horse had the worst rider in the world at the moment and Vivian felt pity for both of them since Shadowfax couldn't exactly express her emotions.

"It's no problem at all-" Malik replied with a friendly smile to improve her mood to the journey but the rest of his sympathetic words were cut off by the other assassin.

"If you two are done mingling, helping me build this fire would be very beneficial for the night" Altaïr cut in shrewdly as he collected dry grass, sticks, and whatever else that would aid as kindling in creating a fire. He wasn't one to waste time on anything and had already swept his designated sleeping area clean of rocks with his feet so he could sleep soundly later on. Efficiency on all tasks was key and he was already onto the next one while the other two lingered behind.

Vivian rolled her eyes to his brusque attitude and mocked him with a military salute to pipe up dramatically, "Yes, my king!"

Altaïr shot her a heated glare as he threw his bundle on the ground where his designated spot for sleep laid. He kneeled down to create his fire pit and hissed sharply, "I don't find your humor amusing in the slightest so unless your words spout fire like a legendary dragon, you better start moving."

What the hell crawled up his ass and died? Or maybe it didn't, she thought scornfully but obeyed the jerk as she glanced around the dimly lit area for kindling. The new experience was turning out to be worse than camping because in normal times, lanterns were supplied.

"And how am I supposed to see where I'm going? It's pitch black out here!" she snapped back sarcastically as she set down her pack next to his, earning a disgruntled growl from him when she almost bonked him on the head. Her foot nudged the area she walked in case there were snakes or scorpions lying about but she realized that either way, she was screwed with any bite. There was no 911 to help or any nearby hospitals to go to by car, there was nothing in sight but wilderness.

I'm not going to last a week in this make believe world, she thought hopelessly and slumped pitifully in her spot. Her survival skills were nonexistent and even back in Jerusalem, her negotiating skills were even worse with all the escaping she did. If Altaïr hadn't kidnapped- er, found- her, she'd probably be lying in a ditch and fighting rats for food scraps.

"Wench, get moving!" the rude assassin jerked Vivian out of her ruminations and she jolted at his sharp tone. Honestly, she'd never met anyone so insufferable!

The area might have been dim but she could still see the scowl on his lips as he crouched, prompting her to kick dirt in his face in payback. Instinctively, Altaïr reached for her throat but the dirt stung his eyes the second it hit them. Malik, who'd been drinking from his traveling canteen, came close to spitting out the water as the dust cloud grew around the two.

He tried to see between the haziness but the lingering light in the sky wouldn't permit it. Malik could definitely hear the loud rabble between the two that only grew in volume with the passing seconds. When the dust finally settled, he found Vivian flat on her back while his colleague loomed over her with a face resembling a furious lion ready to gut its prey.

"Altaïr!" Malik warned instantly as he saw the man's left fingers twitching slightly and knew he was ready to pounce with his hidden knife. The other man halted in his movements, casting the woman roughly aside by the collar of her robe as he stood up to tend to his makeshift fire. Altaïr was livid at being stopped from putting the pest out of her misery and took out his fury on making the fire, rubbing the two sticks furiously in his hands. The dai gave the woman a weary glance as she sat up to smooth out her dusty wrinkled robes and advised her, "Vivian, you must play nice as well."

"I'm not the one brandishing silverware at people's faces!" she snapped irately as fear gripped her at the possibility of being stabbed to death at night in the middle of a desert. Nobody knew where she was and the assassin wouldn't care about where he dumped her or that she had a family. Plus, even if Malik wanted to help, she was certain Altaïr could knock him out since two arms were better than one. She wanted to kick his ass from feeling so helpless in his presence (would it be so hard to cut a lost woman from time travel some slack?) but at the same time, knew that would cause the same end result anyway.

The dai could only take one direction in this kind of conflict and suggested to Vivian, "Why don't you gather some water from the nearby stream-""All the way out there. . .in the dark?" her meek voice whimpered at the idea of spiders and poisonous creatures dwelling in the dark. Those things could attack at any given moment if she wandered close to bushes and the spider webs, ugh. She shuddered at the idea of touching those silvery strands and curled into a ball to hug herself with rocking motions for self-therapy.

"You really aren't from around here, are you?" he chuckled amicably with sympathy to the poor woman as she hugged herself and grabbed a wooden pail from his belongings. She eyed him with curiosity but remained huddled by herself and he suggested another idea to get her to come along, "Come with me and I'll make sure nothing bites you. Unless you'd like to stay with Altaïr and let him bite you, that is."

She blinked to the innocent joke but with her futuristic mind where every word could be turned into something vulgar, she wrinkled her nose to wince in disgust, "Ew."

"Vivian" he reprimanded gently and she smiled at the way he accentuated the last syllable of her name like a father would. Oh, how she wanted to go home and tell her dear ol' dad to throw the Altaïr cutout on the lawn and use the lawnmower over it to shred the bastard. Well, if she got back home. Altaïr might be the king of all asses but Malik would be the pleasant prince in this journey so her best chances at friendliness were with him. She mumbled incoherently as she pushed her fears aside to obey the dai and the two headed off to gather water while Altaïr continued to rub his two sticks together.

He imagined them being Vivian's neck and grinned maniacally at the image. However, a second later, they both snapped under his strength.

"Damn it."

"And up there somewhere, I think. . .there!" Vivian pointed victoriously to the sky as she remembered old astronomy lessons and wikipedia trivia. With a triumphant grin, she finished, "Is the star called Altair. It has the same name meaning although I don't see why it has to have two wives at his side, supposedly called the Black Swans."

"Two wives?" Malik whistled humorously with a wag of his eyebrows toward his brooding friend who wasn't amused by the joke. The assassin huffed in his spot as he sat like a granite statue, cold and menacing as he stared into the fire rather than joining the frivolous conversation.

"Don't ask me who named it, I'm just the reader" she laughed in return as her mood lifted slightly with their new chatter on star watching and wouldn't let Mr. Grumpy ruin it for her. All he did was grumble in his own spot and Vivian wondered what the hell she found interesting in his character in the first place! If she wanted to see this, she could've gone to watch spoiled rich kids not get the fanciest car available by their parents since TV was packed with annoying shows like that. At this point, she would've given her left leg to get dropped in ACII where she wouldn't have to deal with someone who had the emotions of a rock.

Altaïr, on the other hand, was puzzled by her endless chatter that made absolutely no sense to his logical mind and didn't hesitate to state bluntly, "Why would an eagle mate a swan? It makes no sense along with the fact they're two different species altogether."

"Don't disassemble the meaning of stars and I didn't invent star names so nyeh!" Vivian shot back by shamelessly sticking out her tongue and the assassin grimaced at the ill-mannered behavior. Did the woman have no shame? Vivian didn't care what he thought because to him, she was the crazy wench that had super secrets that could destroy his precious little order. It became irritating after hearing it a hundred times since the trip started and after the last stop, began zoning out his scathing words. She turned to flatly glance at the assassin and pointed out sarcastically, "And why did your parents name you 'eagle'? You're a different species and the fact you can't literally fly-"

"I get it" the man cut in sharply to drop his argument and both she and Malik laughed aloud to his temperament. The man was obstinate, especially when wrong, and Malik knew he would argue an entirely different subject as rebuttal to defend his irked pride. His assumption didn't fail when Altaïr demanded gruffly of him, "Shouldn't you be sleeping? Your shift is only hours away."

Malik grumbled inaudibly under his breath but Vivian was sure it was full of insults towards being told what to do. If he didn't pick on her, Malik would be the next target but Altaïr was nice in comparison to what he usually told her.

"Must you always ruin fun? You suck it like a black hole" she joked offhandedly to divert the assassin's attention toward her rather than the calm Malik who'd done nothing wrong. His intense gaze shifted to her as dislike and irritation laid hidden behind his brown orbs but Vivian's green shade ignored meeting his. Instead, she looked to the mild-mannered Malik and sweetly told him, "Go to sleep. If you can't wake up, I don't mind watch-"

Altaïr's head snapped at attention with neck breaking speed to her audacious suggestion and instantly commanded coldly, "Absolutely not! You are still under watch for conspiracy-"

"But I didn't do anything!" she exclaimed helplessly at being blamed yet again for something she had no control over. Honestly, he probably got an ego boost for reprimanding people. She'd already been guilty of who knows how many crimes in Altaïr land and hoped it wouldn't get worse with real people as she traveled. She threw her hands into the air as she tried to keep calm but exasperatedly questioned, "How is being thrown into the past a crime? What are you, the 'time travel' police? If so, I'd like to see paperwork, dear sir, before-"

He stuffed a piece of stale bread into her mouth to silence her screeching and shook his head at having to deal with her. Unfortunately, leaving her in Jerusalem was too much of a risk for their order and wished he could've simply drowned her. His ears received glorious silence and Altaïr grinned smugly at finally shutting her up.

She's worse than a newborn babe, he thought irritably to the miserable company he had to travel with (Malik excluded, of course) and longed for it to end. He didn't mind traveling with Malik since the two could talk endlessly with the past put behind them now but he couldn't do so with the stranger walking about.

Vivian thrashed around indignantly to her treatment and wondered why women didn't dare to take a stand against men like this in this century. If they stopped cooking, tending to children, household chores, selling in marketplaces, and withheld sex from men, the men would crumble like cookies in milk. Oh, how she'd love to create such chaos but knew she'd be tied onto a pyre of fire like Joan of Arc for being a heretic when the justice system was ruled by men.

"I bid you good night, Malik" Altaïr spoke calmly with friendliness in his tone for his brother in arms and grabbed a leather satchel that contained his most important papers. Vivian finally pried off the bothersome bread off her teeth since he'd actually lodged it into them and eyed him with an evil stare. He simply snorted at the empty threat behind the glare and she squeezed the bread roll in her hands. This was a sign she was about to mouth off again and he nipped the idea in the bud by ordering curtly, "And don't you dare raise your voice at me again."

She grit her teeth, fingers squeezing the bread as she yearned to launch it at his hooded head. Breathing deeply, she calmed herself and decided to nibble on the bread since all she'd had to eat was dried meat that had been too salty and water. Malik wondered if leaving the two together was a wise idea but Altaïr's motive at the moment was gaining her information so he would play nice. . .for now. After the interrogation, Altaïr would either kill or send her away like a flea ridden dog since he only needed her for information. He punched his bag of clothes as he used it for a makeshift pillow, throwing himself onto the ground to sleep after a long grueling day with the banshee. Vivian glanced at the sight in dismay since she'd never done such a thing in her life (with the exception of camping but that was inside a tent, never the bare ground) and prayed that bugs wouldn't seek refuge in her ears during the night. She might just have to spend another sleepless night watching any nightly critters venturing too close for comfort.

Altaïr pulled out the map the woman had drawn for him as silence filled their campsite and stretched out the piece of parchment to its full length. The continents she'd drawn were eerily similar to what he'd seen from the Apple and began to ponder if the two were mere coincidence. His coffee colored eyes began to roam over the continent of his homeland but his eyebrows furrowed when he heard the tiniest crunches from the woman's area. He watched her eat a piece of bread like a mouse with its precious morsels of cheese and cleared his throat to catch her attention, directing a flat stare in her direction.

She matched it with a heated glare of her own, her green eyes glinting from the glow of the fire, and justified swiftly, "I'm allowed to eat however I want. Don't you judge me."

His eyes narrowed to her blatant disrespect and when he didn't glance away, she threw flecks of bread crumbs at his hood. The moment she saw his left fingers flex, she remembered that the man was truly dangerous and no longer an image of fiction in the gaming world. She might have a smart-alecky mouth but she held her life in higher regard and nervously backed down to suggest meekly, "I'll just eat my bread over here. . .away from you."The man appeared satisfied, she believed it to be so because he wasn't brandishing a knife at her throat and scooted towards the warm fire. She wanted to conserve pieces of the bread but damn, she was hungry after all those hours of riding and the salt of the meat only made her more hungry and thirsty. Oh, how she wished for unhealthy fast food in her darkest hour. She'd tear off and sell every piece of Altaïr's armor just to have a fat juicy burger in her hands.

How do people survive the night here?, she thought worriedly and cherished the crackling fire in front of her. Finishing her piece of bread, she rubbed her hands over the flames to shiver at the warmth seeping into her skin. The food was already gone and she could only wonder how long the fire would last throughout the night. She didn't want to wake in Arctic temperature to see a wild animal chewing on her leg. If I was in Mass Effect, I'd be in a comfy ship in space. . .then again, if I was in Fallout, I'd be running from super mutants and fearing radiation poisoning. Maybe AC is a good balance that doesn't have evil aliens and ghouls.

Incoherent but grumpy sounding mumbles entered her ears from the left and knew it wasn't Malik. Why, you ask? The poor dai was already snoring in his spot and dancing the tango with fluffy sheep in dreamland.

"Why is life formed around chaos? What is mankind's purpose in the world?" Vivian quoted aloud as the assassin studied the lands west of the Nile. He almost crinkled the paper he held in irritation for the break in concentration and took his own meditative breaths before he kicked her across the field. His clear state of mind allowed him to interpret her words and despite never hearing them, they gave him an eerie tingle in the spine. She spared him a glance away from the fire and inquired softly, "Have you written that in your Codex yet?"

"What answer would you have me give?" he replied coolly because he wouldn't allow her to make him believe she knew everything about him or that she came from 'the future'. It sounded so preposterous, he actually wanted to laugh. Instead, he returned to his study as Malik's snores actually overcame the crackling fire in sound.

She sat down next to him without permission which caused him to scowl under his hood and Vivian shrugged casually to answer softly, "Doesn't matter. I need to find a way to get home and if I can help you on your quest, I don't mind lighting the way. I just wish modern conveniences were available instead of constant danger. It's funny, you know, to hear a man ponder on the meaning of life and in my time, we still ponder the same."

"You have not found an answer?" he asked simply to make idle conversation but the lightest hints of curiosity blended in with his tone.

Vivian chuckled to the question and tucked her legs to the side as she shook her head to reply earnestly, "No. I don't think we're meant to know but if you find it, you should scribble it down. Wars are still waged; you can wake one day having peace and the next, your country's fighting with another. The Holy Land will still be riddled with conflict nine hundred years from now. Actually, I don't think there's a country that goes without conflict. Enemies can change as quickly as the wind so I don't think mankind will change anytime soon, Altaïr. It's gotten to the point where we're changing our own environment and wars can be waged over a simple comment. Temperatures keeps rising due to gas produced by modern machinery, the earth and oceans are drilled for oil to feed said machinery, forests are cut down to make materials. . .but we have good things too."

Her voice became less grim and more chipper as she explained, "We're more knowledgeable, our medicine is highly advanced and we survive in the harshest environments with technology as it expands our life expectancy. Have you glimpsed into images of the future yet?"

Altaïr didn't want to give away any secrets that he hadn't shared with his Order but he could covertly pry information out of her. He noticed that being kind and sincere warranted her trust somewhat after watching Malik and if he could act the same for a little while, he could manage the same. After all, how hard could it be to trick her?

"You said something that caught my attention before, buildings that pierce the sky-" he admitted as he tried to vocalize what he'd seen and moved his hands in an attempt to visually draw them with his fingers. His brow furrowed as he explained uncertainly, "They are made of different materials that aren't stone and are completely smooth, looking nothing like the ones we have now."

His right hand hovered over the map to swoop over the sketched continents to pose his question, "Is this entire map covered in them?"

"Most, yes, but there are lands that are inhabited by indigenous peoples and others do not have a high income economy to make such buildings" she answered carefully with the recent world statistics to let him know that everything he saw was normal and not crazy stuff that would rot his brain. Since she seemed to be on civil ground with him, she offered an olive branch of peace by suggesting, "If you have a piece of paper, I'd be glad to draw one."

He grabbed a leather bound book that lay by his side and flipped through the crisp pages until he found an empty one. Vivian saw writing in the first few dozen pages as they passed by and judging by its small but sufficient size, wondered if what she assumed was right. Daring to bite the bullet on this, she asked curiously, "Is that your Codex?"

His eyes studied her like a shifty raccoon for the private question and he pinned her with a deadly stare as he stated slowly, "Yes, but I will kill anyone who-"

"Stop being so skeptical. . .and stop threatening every human being you meet" she cut in to take his grim attitude down a notch and grabbed the spine of the book into her hands as he flinched defensively in case she tried to put it in the fire. He would've loved to rip it out of her hands since he didn't give her permission to handle it but any sudden movement might cause his life's work a demise. Instead, she surprised him by gently grazing her fingertips over the brown leather as she studied the width of book, careful to keeping his pages flat so she wouldn't glimpse at anything private. Softly, she confessed with a breathless tone, "But it's not thin. . .the spine is thick enough to hold more than a hundred pages here. I don't . . .Have you been writing in each page? Back and front?"

"No, the ink would seep through the page" he answered crisply to her crazy ramblings but her eyes remained on the book. He hadn't expected her to take such an obsessive fascination with it and her behavior began to grind his nerve. Uttering a sigh, he demanded gruffly, "What is the problem?"

"When your descendant in Italy finds the pages, the book itself is not bound anymore after centuries of aging but. . .only thirty pages are found" Vivian spoke faintly as she wondered why so little would be found if the pages were so important. The pages he'd already written in seemed to pass more than ten, probably twenty! Did so many of his writings become lost by the passage of time? Her face became crestfallen to the knowledge that would be lost to the future members of the Order and she murmured with disappointment, "That means your Codex was longer than in the game series- I mean, the reality in my time. You're supposed to continue writing this until you die so what happens to all of the pages in between? Why is so little left?"

"Vivian, I am the wrong person to be asking" he stated flatly to her questions and she uttered a weak whine in rebuttal. Why did she even care what he wrote? Did she know what was already in there? Honestly, the woman was arising more questions in his mind than what he originally started with! She would be a strange one to interrogate with her shifting moods and illogical answers. All he could supply to her endless questions was a reasonable and blunt explanation, "I can only assume pages were lost or too worn to be read."

She sighed halfheartedly because she didn't want the matter to be dropped so easily because of its importance but could see by his frown that he didn't want to continue the conversation. Her fingers tapped on the paper of the book and her gaze flickered to the fire briefly as she mumbled sluggishly, more to herself than Altaïr, "But it's supposed to help you and your descendants upgrade weaponry and armor, bring new techniques of fighting, kick Templar ass- oh, now I'm more confused than when I arrived!"

With a grumble, she grabbed a piece of charcoal to sketch out one of the most popular skyscrapers of her country, the Empire State Building. She wasn't an artist in any way so she'd draw a decent doodle of an outline to hand over. The crackling fire caused a bit of eyestrain with the surrounding darkness but with the nonexistence of electricity, she would have to grow used to it. That didn't mean she had to love it and shook her head miserably to groan, "Oh god, how I miss the streetlights."

He gave her a questioning glance about the strange word and she answered woefully, "Metal poles that give citizens artificial light."

"Fire?"

"No, it's- oh jeez, you're like a little baby" she sighed depressingly to having to explain the entire concept (she didn't even know anything on electricity) and he glared in offense at being deemed as such. She chastised herself for forgetting to keep her big mouth shut and trying not to piss off the assassin. Raising a hand in peace, she spoke cautiously, "I meant no offense. It's light but more like captured light that glows and. . .I'm not very good at explanations but in my time, we have no need for fire anymore unless we're cooking or for warmth. Even then, all we have to do is turn a knob and it pops out."

She handed him the finished sketch before she had to explain ovens to the 12th century man and wiped away specks of black soot off her robes. Meanwhile, Altaïr hated to admit that her hand drawn description fit some of the visuals he'd seen inside the Apple. A little too detailed for his liking. That in itself raised more questions on who this woman was and what she really knew. Did her drawing really signify that she was from the future? He'd heard farfetched stories before but this?. . .Then again, how did she know so much about him? And why did she lack common knowledge associated with this life?

Vivian noticed his blank stare into the fire and seeing that he was on shut down mode already, aimed a thumb toward her sleeping spot. She really didn't want to sleep in the wild but her body was already crying for rest, especially her sore butt. Stretching her arms, she informed the assassin, "I'm hitting the hay-"

He snapped out of his ruminations and turned to pin her with a puzzled stare, pointing matter-of-factly, "We have no hay."

She gave him a deadpan expression to the common phrases of her time he'd no idea on and hoped the next morning would turn out far better. Her brain was already becoming sluggish and she hung her head to groan tiredly, "It's a 21st century saying. It means I'm going to sleep so goodnight, Mr. Assassin."

Vivian crawled away to her spot in the camp since it seemed easier than getting up on her achy legs and Altaïr heard her mumble, "Like a baby."

He grabbed a small pebble from nearby that barely weighed anything and flung it at her rear for a direct hit, "Ow!"

"We're off to see the Grand Master,
The arrogant Assassin of Syria,
Da da da da da da,
You'll see he's an ass of the past,
You'll find him coated with bacteria.
E coli! Spirilla! Even diphtheria!
Da da da da da da
If there ever was a worse Assassin,
It's the Grand Master!
Altaïr takes time to make a kill,
And the mission really fails to fulfill,
So enemies will have time to run for the hills!"

Vivian looked at the sky thoughtfully as she finished her little song since making her brain work took away the boredom of the silence on the road. She always figured traveling would bring more adventure but all she had was sweaty clothing and a sore butt so far. She stuck out her bottom lip in thought and critiqued her words, "Hmm, needs a better rhyming sequence. What do you think, Malik?"

"I think my side exploded" he laughed hysterically while the other assassin bristled behind the woman for being the victim of her jokes. Vivian smiled proudly at her creativeness because she couldn't hold a decent rhyme for the life of her and ignored the fuming man intentionally as she combed her fingers through her mare's hair. Shadowfax seemed to like it and whinnied contently as she took the lead but Altaïr wasn't having any of that. He'd assigned himself the rear in case of enemies while Malik stayed ahead but there was no way he would allow her to break formation. He tapped the side of his brown stallion with his foot and forced himself as the leader of the group once again by passing her, shooting the woman a scathing glare on the way.

"I hope your face freezes like that, you'll give your enemies heart attacks without the need to kill them" she retorted tartly as he passed by and shooed him away by waving her hand. The man was too dominant for her liking and his constant grumpy mood picked at her brain like nails on a chalkboard. Lifting her chin to show defiance, she scoffed airily, "Go scare the pigeons or something."

Altaïr was about to demand respect from the wench but Malik beat him with a whole different reaction. The dai simply laughed heartily and complimented the woman's boldness against his fellow assassin, "Vivian, I think you will fit in just fine."

Vivian smiled cheerfully since Malik was a breath of fresh air in comparison to Altaïr because to her, the two were as different as night and day. Ahead of them, Altaïr came close to breaking his impassive mask and gawking in bewilderment to the man's opinion. They'd just met her yesterday- yesterday!- and he already approved of her? Was he the only one with common sense? He swallowed a furious growl that threatened to leave his throat and forced himself to relax by telling himself that soon, the interrogation for the truth would begin.

The group passed the final ivory-toned stone arches that signaled the last mile before reaching the village of Masyaf and Vivian stared in awe to the realistic view that was exactly as the game. She became giddy at finally experiencing the only peaceful place on the AC map where she wouldn't be chased (hopefully) and asked curiously, "Are we getting close?"

"Yes" the assassin replied plainly with disinterest to her incessant jabbering and she nodded with an excited smile. After everything she'd endured, she'd finally get some decent rest and begin collecting answers as to why she was here.

Her historical interest in this old world only raised her excitement at what she could learn because grumbling the whole way through wouldn't get her anywhere. If at all, it would offend people and she'd be chased with swords for being a critic. As a history major, this was a Christmas present to be studied! The river to their left looked absolutely delicious to her after traveling for so long but there were no stops along the way. Oh, she couldn't wait to clean off all the dirt she'd gathered and give Shadowfax some yummy hay for lunch. Clapping giddily, her sun parched lips broke into a peppy grin and she asked eagerly, "Great. So what's it-"

Altaïr took advantage of her off-guard stance to knock Vivian over the head with the blunt hilt of his knife, effectively knocking her unconscious over the mare. Malik stared in bewilderment to his rash action as the poor woman slumped on the animal but Altaïr justified it by stating, "If she knew we were getting close, she may have tried to make a last desperate attempt to run away. Spies cannot be trusted."

"I didn't really see it as necessary, she wanted to come" Malik disagreed to his friend's skepticism and shook his head because as an ex-assassin himself, he understood the undertaken precautions. His instinct, however, told him that Vivian didn't seem the type. The woman was frightened of anything and everything along which weren't very spy material. If at all, she appeared to be a foreigner that was suffering mental illness and lost to the modern world around her. However, the fact that she was lucid made her case extremely unreadable after all the training he'd completed.

"Well. . .uh, it will make the last mile quieter" Altaïr reasoned matter-of-factly and quickened the pace of his horse to take the lead as he grabbed Shadowfax's reigns to pull her along. Vivian simply bobbed with the horse's trots as Malik stared at the unconscious woman with pity while Altaïr was thankful for the comfortable silence around them. The harpy had droned on and on with questions about current times since they left camp but he wouldn't fall for her annoying ploys.

"You know, she's not as bad as you think" Malik spoke up casually to bring up the woman as the subject since she was quickly becoming a thorn in Altaïr's side. The other man growled in frustration to having her brought up in a topic, like it wasn't bad enough when she was conscious. Altaïr stared straight ahead at the curving road with a silent glare as the dai tried to put in a few good words for her, "She's a scared woman that is far from home. She cannot help but be defensive as she adjusts."

Altaïr snorted at his friend's sympathetic words but he refused to change his mind about her until he knew the truth. After that. . .he hadn't thought that far yet. His tone was incredulous and demanding as he honestly asked, "You actually believe she is from the so-called 'future' then? It is the stupidest thing I ever heard-"

The dai aimed a sour face at the assassin callous words and rebuffed his opinion with his own, "I'm simply stating that there could be truth to her words. We should not be hasty to label her as crazy without hearing her part in this. You've seen her behavior-"

That statement certainly didn't change Altaïr's mind and he shot Malik a deadpan stare as to all the crazy behavior she'd shown since meeting. She'd already bitten, punched, kicked, and thrown dust in his eyes; that would not put her on his good side at all. If at all, she was extremely lucky at not meeting her end on his blade. He scoffed derisively and briefly glanced at the unconscious woman, pointing out another idea, "She could also be delusional and know absolutely nothing-"

"Then why was she wearing an assassin's garb?" he questioned to their first meeting and smirked for bringing up that very valid point. The woman had become a menace in the city without meaning to and heavily denied not knowing how she got there or putting the clothing on. Altaïr, however, wasn't about to let his skepticism fade on his friend's simple hunch and shook his head to deny the possibility of her being right. That would completely destroy his logical mind, not to mention science, and he'd already had enough with the Apple. Malik's horse trotted up to the brown stallion to keep pace and he remarked casually, "You must admit that there are certain things she knows that outsiders would not."

"So what would you have me believe? That she is actually from a future where we're fictional?" he demanded briskly as he wished to end the subject and laughed sardonically at the idea, the cold sound echoing through the empty dust path. A tight smile crossed his lips and he spoke doubtfully at the absurdity of it, "I'm hearing myself say it and I don't believe it. Do you've any idea how ridiculous that sounds? Would you actually believe such a ludicrous thing?"

Malik sighed at the man's intolerance and knew his friend was finished speaking on the matter. Well, at least he tried to give a little lenience for Vivian and now, it would be up to her to prove that she was being honest. He sighed under his breath and ended the subject with a little advice for the assassin, "No, I'm asking to give her a chance. Question her about facts we know of this time and see how she responds."

Altaïr grumbled under his breath at this new development, he had no time to waste on loony women when he should be fighting Templars. They were the main enemy and probably a league ahead in finding the pieces of Eden while he was stuck being a caretaker. A caretaker! He shot the unconscious Vivian a scowl for bumping into his life and disrupting the balance. He needed to discard her quickly to keep pace with his plans or risk weakening the Order against them.

The sooner I return to Masyaf, the sooner I can deal with her and be done with it, he thought irritably and hastened his horse's pace to finish the trip. Masyaf was minutes away and he would cut whatever time he could spare to interrogate her and begin his plans for exploring the African continent.

"I can't wait to be home" he mumbled listlessly as the shade of the trees brought relief to his warm skin and really couldn't wait to end this bothersome adventure life had brought. Whether by executing her or leaving her in a dungeon to rot somewhere, this Vivian woman would be taken care of.

Altaïr smelled the fresh piece of baked bread before taking a bite into it, a rare smile hitching at the corner of his lips. He was definitely home and it felt marvelous.

He'd just had a good lunch to renew the energy he'd wasted on the two-day journey and didn't want to delay the decent warm bath awaiting him in his quarter. Malik had departed as soon as they entered their home to go over his maps and Altaïr didn't keep him. Of course, he had to dump the unconscious Vivian over his friend's shoulders so he could find a place for her. Altaïr didn't really care where Malik took her as long as she didn't disrupt the assassins or escape. The fortress of Masyaf provided safety for the Order and if the woman was lying, there would be no escape for betrayers.

His dexterous forefingers twirled a metal spoon between them as he decided on something important. He was sure he'd regret it later on during the day if he didn't act on it now and placed his spoon inside his empty bowl. Yes, it had to be done.

Standing up, Altaïr grabbed a nearby wooden ladle that laid on a emerald cloth and filled it with the thick potato soup pot that was centered on the long rectangular table. He happily poured himself another serving into his bowl and left the ladle in the pot in case he needed a third helping (he wasn't ashamed of gorging on food). Inhaling the herby steam off the warm pot, he sat back down with his straight posture and quietly said to himself, "A wise choice indeed."

A second later, he proceeded to devour the serving like a thirsty coyote finding a cold refreshing watering hole and avoided the awkward glances any nearby recruits gave their Grand Master. He dared them to say a word on his table manners and they'd see why he was ranked as their superior, regardless of his frantic eating.

His acute hearing picked up the short calculated strides that were of Malik's nature and he finished the last spoonfuls of his meal. It was almost a shame that the bowl was empty. With a higher rank, Altaïr was expected to appear collected, stoic, and above all, wise and brave for his society. Of course, that was for public display purposes but he didn't mind grilling people for fun and watching them squirm (namely, the recruits). For example, his friend that carried maps under his only arm seemed ready to update him on the 'crazy wench' situation which was a good starter.

"Did you put her in the farthest room in the top level?" Altaïr questioned simply since that was the only thing he cared for at the moment. That and extra cloth wrappings for his feet because they were chaffing from all the walking. . .and his feet got cold easily but nobody needed to know that.

Malik directed a wry look of sarcasm at him before asking himself aloud, "How are you, Malik? Why, I'm doing rather well, thank you for asking. Did I forget to mention thank you for coming along with me and leaving everything behind? No, but you're most welcome-"

"All right, I get the point" the assassin cut in curtly for forgoing courtesy and tossed a bread roll to his companion, unfortunately forgetting his friend only had one arm and it was already in use. Malik didn't bother to let go of his maps for the bread and lazily watched it bounce off his chest and roll over the stone floor. Altaïr tried to lighten the situation by coughing uncomfortably and ordering simply, "We'll give that to Vivian. She'll never know the difference."

"Altaïr, you can't treat the poor girl like a dog" the dai reprimanded to the wrongful idea of giving her dirty food and sat down on the opposite side of the table. He didn't hesitate on being her defense (since she had none) and remarked casually, "You might not like her but she seems sincere."

"Sincerity can get you stabbed in the kidney and decapitated" the other man replied coldly to his soft heart and Malik sighed exasperatedly to his paranoia. Altaïr wasn't looking for another fight on the annoying topic that was 'the crazy wench' and pointed out swiftly with authority, "Look, we're not here to make friends with her. If she's lying, she's dead. Plain and simple, Malik. If not. . .she's exiled from Masyaf and can roam where she pleases-"

"She's not from around here!" he tried to justify since the poor woman wasn't there to defend herself. His leader was right on spies being executed and if she was, he would abide by it for being deceived. However, the truth would set Vivian free and she would need refuge in an unknown world. He pinched the bridge of his nose to prevent a headache that Altaïr always seemed to bring and plainly put forward, "If she's right, then she has no home."

Altaïr lowered his head to dismiss the woman's testimony and couldn't help but laugh at the possibility, "Now that is hardly my fault, is it? If her time travel gods put her here, they can take her out."

"Must you be so cynical?" Malik sighed deeply as he reached the end of his rope at reasoning with his friend and decided to call it quits.

The assassin tilted his head upwards before replying scornfully, "Yes, when someone like Al Mualim raised you and backstabs you, I believe that yes, a little cynicism is deserved. And when a woman creates chaos in the streets of Jerusalem and persists she's from the future, yes, cynicism is well deserved. And when-"

"You're not going to stand in front of the Order's banner and preach the rest of this, are you?" Malik interrupted dryly with an uninterested face to his ranting and jiggled his maps. He'd find better conversation partners with the silent maps than the grumpy Altaïr but was certain the assassin's mood would lighten as soon as the Vivian business was taken care of. With a witty smile, he reminded cockily, "Because I have work to do and if you plan to leave soon, it's either this or your boring speeches."

"My speeches carry bravery, valor, integrity. . .oh, just carry on" Altaïr dismissed him carelessly with his own smile hitching at his lips and proceeded to tear his bread into pieces. The hall echoed with a hearty laugh from Malik as the two men relaxed in the safe confines of their home.

In the farthest and highest room, Vivian woke up with slobber trailing down the side of her dry lips and hot skin that was sweaty under her heavy robes. She was no pretty damsel in distress from the Disney franchise as the fortress level was the hottest in Masyaf. Sunlight filtered into the room she temporarily inhabited and she opened her eyes to greet a ceiling made of some kind of rock. No common day dropped ceiling told her she was still in 'Altaïr land' and that did not bode well for her. The man already seemed to make it a hobby to personally see her miserable and hated that she was practically his prisoner with the way he bossed her around.

She was suffocating in the robes and sat up dizzily to pull them over her head, leaving only the assassin pants that she kept and a linen undershirt that was practically transparent. Her skin was already sweaty under the bandages holding her chest down but she wasn't about to risk being seen half-naked in a century that would stone you just for showing your ankle.

I mean, really, how did women survive like this in old eras?, she thought in dismay and wiped at the stubborn dry spit that didn't want to leave its new home on her face. And I can say goodbye to hygiene while I'm here because half the people I saw made Jack Shepard from Lost look like a red carpet celebrity on the island.

She took a moment to study the room she was in and definitely saw it as archaic in comparison to modern times. All the furniture was made of either wood or iron but knew Damascus steel was in use in this timeline due to the assassins swords. Her fingers kneaded the lumpy ancient bedding and winced at the cheap white fabric that held sheep's wool and straw inside.

"This is going to kill me!" she groaned miserably as the straw stuck out in lumps in several areas and took a deep breath before letting her eyes roam to the rest of the bed. A wooden framework supported the sack of wool but when she peeked over the side, she could see that wooden slats kept the 'mattress' in the air. A very large difference to modern day beds indeed. Vivian didn't feel safe on the shoddy looking thing at all and wished for a metal framework.

She didn't test her luck on the bed (for fear it would break) and stood up, walking to the nearest open window with had absolutely no kind of shutters. Great. On the bright side, there were very delicate decorations around the windowsill that reminded her of old Moroccan designs. All the countries of the old East would interact so much throughout the years through trade or conquering lands that their interaction would last centuries in their buildings. The moment she glanced outside the nicely designed window, however, she was faced with the raw reality that she was indeed in the Middle Ages.

Vivian gasped at the scenic view of the village below Masyaf and its tiny residents that moved below were proof that this was all real. A wave of dizziness struck her as she realized she was indeed stuck in 1191 and sighed miserably to conclude, "I guess third time's not the charm. Viv, old girl, we're definitely not in Kansas anymore."

A/N: Sorry for the lateness of the chapter, life and school didn't give me much time to write so I apologize for leaving the readers with nothing to read. Luckily, I have this month of January free so I want to update as many fics as I can (and there's a lot) and the next chapter to this one is almost complete. Thank you for the story alerts and the past reviews from NaruVamp, Human Element, IpiRayan, TheLastShadow, and TamieK.

Next time we'll see the interrogation between Altair and Vivian, a new assassin character, and the start of Altair's adventure.