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Rebecca looked up as she heard the toilet flush. A few minutes later, the door opened. Jameel's bangs dripped as if he'd splashed water on them. Judging by the wet spot on the front of his shirt, he had.

The tall man leaned against the wall, breathing hard. The woman lowered her headphones, pausing in writing down the codes and testing them to see if they had any effect whatsoever. So far, none had.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything, man?"

"Water." She nodded, leaving and returning with a glass of ice water. Jameel chugged it down and staggered back to the back of the room, toppling once more onto the sweat-soaked sheets.



There she was, down below on the street. The woman in the brown woolen cloak strode with a basket on her arm, looking inconspicuous, as if she had a purpose in walking that direction.

It was only when a firm hand, covered in a cold, metal gauntlet, grasped her shoulder that she faltered, her stride broken. Following the arm up to its owner, she could see the man was a giant in leonine armor.

"Good even, signore," whispered the woman, mouth having gone dry. She smiled falteringly. "Is there something I can do for you?" The Metal Lion shifted his grip to the woman's wrist.

"What was all that aimless walking for, lovely, as if you didn't know where I was? Where have you been off to at this time of night? To find the Assassins, perhaps?" demanded the man.

"Heavens no!" Shock was evident on the woman's face, which he saw now was not the one he'd expected beneath the hood of the cloak. It was not the voice either, he realized, now that she spoke clearly. The woman had brigher skin in the moonlight, though the green eyes were the same. Her accent was foreign as well. "I'd dare not think of going to those monsters for anything."

Bowing her head, she glanced up at the Lion from beneath her cowl. "Signore, please, I must return home. My husband will be suspicious. You see," she said breathlessly, pausing, and then going on, looking guilt-stricken, "t'was merely a night's affair. Now I ask kindly, and with much grace on your behalf, to please release me and allow me to return home." She then tugged violently, trying to break his grip.

Metal Lion immediately released her at the first sign of a tug. If she pulls too hard, she'll hit herself, he thought to himself, disappointed that it didn't happen, but amused nonetheless. He snickered, "Oh, lovely, I'll get you yet." That said, he clawed his way up the side of the nearest building with frightening ease, the axe blade glinting from where it hung in the harness on his back, before he vanished over the rooftops.

Good riddance, the woman thought before turning and heading the way she'd been going before the metal monster's interruption.A pair of eyes trailed her until she was lost in the crowd. Jameel took his eyes away from her, scanning the rooftops. s**t. Now where is he?

Ducking his head down, he strode toward the nearest bunch of crowd that, though sparse at this time of night, would give him cover, crowded around a minstrel.

"Agh, this man is tuneless," whispered one of the younger men.

"Tactless, too," his friend added.

"You two want a better sound?" Jameel muttered. The men looked at him and paled before nodding. "If he's a tactless minstrel, kick him in the loins. Brings him back to the choir boy days when he could reach those high octaves."

"Grazie, signore. We'll try this." The Assassin vanished into the next crowd, then to the shadows of the building opposite them as he saw Desmond step into the square he'd come from. Lex was with him.

Desmond pressed them to the wall as he saw the Metal Lion moving across the rooftops, circling back toward them. He pointed.

"Hey, isn't that Serenity?"

"Does that cloak look green, Desmond?"

"It's dark, she's far away, go and get her!" He shoved Lex out of the shadows after the woman, watching him dart away. He looked at Amir as the younger man tapped his shoulder. "What?" The barkeep found himself catapulted by a hard kick to where Jameel stood. Moving to him with Amir, he looked at the man. "Hey. It's a little crazy out, isn't it?" He pointed to the men beating up a minstrel with what looked like a lute. "Or is it just me?"

"It is." Jameel did a quick count and fixed his eyes on Desmond. The bartender pointed to their left. Nodding, glad that he wouldn't have to end Altair's bloodline by beating Desmond's head against the wall, he opened his mouth, then froze. "Run." The three tore from the shadows and beat a path back toward the hide out.

Metal Lion put a halt to their progress, vaulting from the roofs and landing squarely in front of the Red Owl, causing the people that had begun to move into the square of their own accord. The crowds scattered with frantic shouts. Jameel stopped in his tracks, almost planting his face on the Templar's breastplate.

"Found more hoods!" the Lion roared with glee. "Time to trim them down to size!" The axe came down. Jameel's jambiya was unsheathed quick as he was able, though it barely blocked the descending blade. The block became a power struggle as the jambiya strained against the might and sharp edge of the axe. Metal Lion did not budge. His strength was shoving the axe down, and the jambiya was going down with it, Jameel almost forced to kneel. The jambiya was cracking. "What's the matter? No spirit tonight? Let's dance, assassino!" The last word was said mockingly as Jameel's dagger cracked further.

Desmond's hidden blade snicked out of its sheath as he ran in a full tackle at the Lion's side. He watched the axe shift just a little, then hopped back quickly as he was rounded on, the blade slicing through the air an inch from his face.

Amir moved in behind the Lion, tossing a throwing dagger at a c***k he spied between the helmet and the back of the Lion's armor. Desmond drew his own dagger and dashed forward, seeking to wedge it into one of the seams of the armor.

Metal Lion spun away from the ambush with a grace that belied his brute strength. The throwing dagger bounced off his thick pauldron, heading toward Desmond. Desmond jerked to the side, the blade grazing his arm, as his dagger just barely touched Crazy Legs' arm. The axe swung in a counter-attack as the Lion twirled away from the dagger, aiming for Desmond once more. Jameel lunged forward with his cracked dagger, only to have it knocked from his hands by the shaft of the axe. The blade shattered to pieces at the shove from the haft, the useless hilt tumbling off somewhere behind him. Amir was the Lion's next target, the little boy dropping back from a swing meant to spill his innards and hooking his legs around the haft, swinging upward and making a stab toward one of the eye holes in the Lion's helmet. Jameel unsheathed his hidden blade as the Lion grasped Amir by the hood and threw him aside.

As the Lion was busy with swatting away Amir, Jameel struck, aiming for the same crack Amir had between helmet and the back of the armor. The Templar stepped aside, switching the axe to his other hand, grabbed the Assasin's extended arm, shoved it into the lion-headed pauldron on his left. The top of the jaws came down, wedging Jameel's hand between sharp teeth.

The Red Owl let out a scream of surprise and pain, tugging uselessly in an attempt to free his hand from the trap. Blood oozed between the metal teeth. The madman wasn't finished yet, he soon found. Knocking Desmond aside when he charged at him as if he were no more than a mosquito, he grabbed Jameel's other hand and shoved it into the other pauldron, that one snapping down as well. Another ear-splitting shriek was torn from the man's mouth as he was trapped, almost leaning against his attacker's back.

Metal Lion turned his back to the other Assassins, showing off his new hostage. "Can't backstab me now, can you?"



The cloaked woman was marching down the street at a quick pace, so that Lex had to run to catch up to her.

"Hey!" Lex called, panting. "Hey, Serenity!" He stopped, realizing even before she turned and faced him that this woman was not the one he was looking for. She was taller than Serenity, and as he looked under the hood he saw she had fairer skin, if beginning to tan.

"My name is not Serenity," said the woman. Lex tilted his head, frowning at the accent.

"Sprechst du Deutsch?"

"Ja, natuerlich, Ich spreche Deutsch." The woman seemed as confused as he himself was, not even caring at the use of the familiar tense. A gut-twisting scream shattered the air over their heads. Lex felt the blood drain from his body. No...God, no...

"Lauf jetzt! Geh nach Hause!" he breathed, turning on his heel and racing back toward where the scream had come from.



s**t! The man looked at their captured comrade and paled. What the hell do we do now? He'll just use him as a shield; we can't hit him!

Amir, too, stopped when he saw Jameel pinioned in the trap. Damn Templar b*****d! The two looked up as Lex came into view. The small Assassin moved until he stood a few feet in front of the oversized, axe-swinging, armored Templar, sword held loosely in his hand. Jameel, trembling from the pain coursing through his body, felt his heart stop at the sight of the almost friendly smile on the Journeyman's face, hearing the low chuckle coming from the younger man.

"What the hell are you doing?" he gasped.

When Lex spoke, his voice was calm and quiet, with a touch of what sounded like disappointment.

"Taking a hostage? Really? Those rumors about the lion Templar were true. You can't fight a man on your own. You hide behind hired men, tricksy armor, and a war axe. Just a big p***y."

The Lion frowned behind his mask, perplexed.

"I...am not sure what that meant," he began and quickly recovered with, "You are in no position to do anything right now anyway! I have an Assassin in my jaws, and I do not fear to bite down! When I am through with him, his lips will be loosened so much that the Assassins will fall!" His voice rose as to a shout, "I'm not to your plans. I'm always on to your plans!" Crazy Legs hefted his axe into battle position. "Come then, I will make my brothers happy when your heads are presented to them in bags! Let me start with you first, little troublemaker!"

As Lex and the Lion spoke, Amir had looked at Desmond and jerked his head in the briefest of motions. The two Assassins moved over to the pauldrons and started to push the jaws apart to free the man. As the teeth parted, Jameel squirmed, gaining his footing properly, but could barely move his hands. More blood flowed from the metal teeth of the lions' heads as he sought to pull them free.

"It means you're a coward. You know, those guys"--Lex put his hand near his head and lowered it to show the levels--"where even s**t expelled by the dying is higher ranked than them? You're one of those guys. And you think you're on to my plans? You couldn't be on to someone's plans if they wrote the plans down for you! And you know why you carry that big a** axe around, p***y? Because your d**k is about as long as one of the splinters from the haft!"

"The more you insult me, the more blood is lost. I will not be distracted from my goal!"

The two Assassins held the jaws open as Jameel was finally able to pry his hands from the jaws. At that moment, the set Amir was holding open squeaked, his fingers slipping. Crazy Legs moved, forcing the Assassins to release the jaws, trapping Jameel's wrists between the jaws. He swung his axe at the two trying to free his captive, forcing them back. He began to sidestep, eyeing the three.

Unlike his hands, his wrists were protected by his armor bracers. They were all that stood between the jaw traps and his flesh. Not knowing how long they were going to hold, Jameel mustered up his remaining strength and pulled his hands hands out of the bracers. The Lion whirled on him at the abrupt lift in weight from his back, making a long gash in his chest with the axe as he brought it up in underhanded swing. The blade tore through the leather armor like it was made of paper. That done, he bounded away, leaving Jameel sprawled on the cobbles, blood welling up from his wounds.

Hanging from a second floor window ledge, he called back to the Assassins like a child who'd been called from playing with friends to come home and have dinner, "No matter, I'll deal with you later! The night is mine!"

The three Assassins rushed over to the injured one, helping him to his feet. Lex shed his robes quickly, as did Amir, the two supporting him pressing them tightly against the wound on his chest.

"Where's Serenity?" Desmond demanded. "I thought you went to get her."

"It wasn't her. C'mon." Lex started off and stopped, looking at the two, who remained in place. "Come on!" They followed after the time traveler, Amir picking up the pace as they neared Leonardo's shop.

"Why are we here?"

"He has medical supplies," said Amir, unlocking the door. They went inside. The nearest table was wiped down in an instant. Desmond helped Jameel down onto it as the others raided the artist's stores and came back with candles lit and their arms loaded with bandages, needle, thread, a bowl of water, and several small pouches of what smelled to the bartender like spices.

Desmond took off his belt and cinched it around Jameel's wrist to make a tourniquet as Amir did the same with the other hand. Lex moped the blood away from his hands and chest to see the extent of the damage as he passed Desmond the threaded needle he'd been heating in one of the candle flames. "Get to his chest."

When did this kid become a surgeon? he wondered in the space of a moment as he did what he was told, making the stitches as carefully as possible. Jameel groaned around the paintbrush one of the others had shoved into his mouth as something to clamp down on. Despite how it had been shredded so easily, the armor had partially done its job, taking most of the force from the axe blow. Though the cut spanned from just below the left side of his chest to just below his collarbone, it was shallow. Not fatal, but just as brutal as the bite marks on his hands.

Lex felt his gorge rise at the sight of the punctures in Jameel's hand, palpating them to see what bones were broken. When Desmond finished sewing him shut, Amir smeared a paste he'd made with the herbs and some of the water onto the cut and bandaged Jameel's chest.

Lex went back to Leonardo's workroom and returned with a bowlful of white powder. Pouring the powder into the water, he swirled the mixture into a paste. Desmond winced as he heard bones being pressed back into place; he was forced to join in. The process was arduous, the tension palpable at what it would mean if they set the bones wrong. Lex washed the wounds, disinfecting them as well as he could with some of the paste Amir had made before rinsing that away as well and smearing the plaster on Jameel's hands, wrists, and fingers. He applied another layer of plaster to the one hand before moving and giving the other the same treatment.

The men looked at the one on the table. Jameel was pale as the stuff that had been put over his mutilated hands, the brush on the table. Lex pressed two fingers against his neck, sighing. Alive--unconscious, but alive. They looked toward the window as faint roars sounded from outside. A faint light had begun to lighten the sky above the rooftops across the way. Dawn was approaching.

The Assassins looked from one to the other and back again. Had they really been up all night?

The Sparrow cleaned the drying plaster from his hands as Desmond washed, slathered his arm with the herbal paste, and bandaged it over. Lex moved into the workroom again, looking beyond Amir to where the armor and gas masks hung on what his fatigued brain assumed were either prototype mall mannequins or the dismembered straw-filled versions thereof. Along with the armor were weapons.

The pressure of a hand on his shoulder startled him; his body was too numb and bone ragged to muster enough force to flinch.

"There are beds in the back, Brother." Lex nodded and allowed the Coal Tit to drape his arm across his shoulder and waist, leading him back to the beds. He came back a few minutes later and helped Desmond move the entire table with Jameel to the back room long enough to move the Red Owl onto one of the beds. After setting Jameel down, Desmond dragged the table back to the front room and curled up beneath it, snoring loudly.

In the other room, Amir and Lex curled up on the other free bed, arms wrapped around one another. "Brother?"

"Hmm?" Lex blinked, looking at Amir, who had tears welling in his eyes. Blinking, he realized the ones slipping from his own.

"Tell me a story?" Lex smiled and set his head on the pillow as Amir hugged onto his side, using his chest as a pillow of his own. He nodded, drumming up the first story that came to mind.

"It was in a far away place, in a big forest. There an old woman was wandering alone. She was a sorceress..."