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"Hey, Desmond, have you seen Malik?" The bartender grunted as he clung to the shelves, his feet on the second one up from the bottom, his arm stretching toward a scroll on the topmost shelf. Lex looked up at the man and sighed. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm trying to get the stupid parchment up there. What's it look like?" the Novice snarled as Lex came over to him.

"Still surprises me that you're literate." The Sparrow blanched as the case creaked ominously. "Okay, dude, you know there's a ladder right--oh, no, s**t, s**t, s**t!" The smaller man quickly pressed his back to the case as it began to shift under Desmond's weight. The other man scrabbled at the scrolls, knocking them loose as he tried to steady himself. Crash went the bookcase, burying the two in a heap of dust and literature.

Two pairs of hands went to work digging them out. Desmond looped his arms around Rauf's neck, hand clutching the scroll that he'd so desperately wanted. Lex held his head as a masked face took him around the waist and pulled him onto his feet. He looked up at the man's face. A dark brown eye stared at him over the black cloth that covered the man's mouth and nose, the right overcast with the milky film of blindness, a scar running from the bridge of his nose to disappear beneath the mask. The masked man lifted his other hand and brought it to the younger man's head, feeling over the lump there for a moment. When he brought it back down, Lex saw with a momentary hint of confusion that he wore his Hidden Blade on his right hand, his right ring finger gone.

"You'll live," said the man the Journeyman finally remembered seeing more than a few times riding to and from Masyaf. That's right. He's a messenger. He was one of the men Tancred had been given over to work with. "Don't act a Novice next time."

"The Novice was acting a Novice," Lex muttered, trying to pinpoint where he'd heard the man's accent from.

"Well, excuse me if I wanted to read something to get us home, Skandar," Desmond snarled, making Lex jump. The Sparrow had fallen into answering to the Arabic name ever since Sarah had started calling him by it when she'd see him after Christmas. The other Assassins had picked up on it sometime during the following days. Only Desmond and Jameel seemed to remember anymore that he was Lex the time traveller and not Skandar the Sparrow.

The barkeep shrugged Rauf's arm away once he was on solid ground again. "Or did you forget about that?" He strode toward the smaller man. "Yeah, look at you, a little Journeyman Assassin, training Novices, big and tough. Well, you're not even old enough to buy a drink back home, much less have that blade on your arm! And you're so ******** happy here, aren't you, with your boyfriend and a new name? Well, what about me, you stupid s**t of a kid? What if I don't want to be here?"

"Bas!" The younger Eagle halted as the masked man stepped between them. "Enough out of you, Novice. Get what you came here for and leave. When you come back, if you should, clean up this mess." The eyes, seeing and blind, narrowed at him. "You're almost as old as Abbas and still a Novice? I would call you both failures, as well as a disgrace to the Grandmaster, be he your father or whatever other sort of relation he is to you." The man looked at Rauf. "I have a message to deliver. See that the Novice does come back and clean this up."

The swordsman nodded and looked at Lex, who nudged one of the books with his foot.

"Are you all right, Skandar?" The Sparrow flinched at the name.

"Yeah. Just... Where's Malik?"

"The Dai is in the mosque. Skandar."

"Yeah, Rauf?"

"It's a rare thing to see that man speak a word on anyone's behalf, much less let a person receive such a tongue-lashing. I think you've made a friend of him by reputation."

Lex made to shake his head, but grimaced and held it tighter instead. Sighing, he made his way down the slope of the mount toward the mosque. Desmond probably gave me a concussion. Great. Or one helluva whopping headache.

"Allahu akbar..." The sound reached the young man as he stopped outside the mosque and shed his shoes, scrubbing off his feet and hands before splashing his face. "Allahu akbar..." Patting his hands dry on his pants and using his sleeves to do the same to his face, Lex pushed his bangs back from his eyes as he entered the building. The one-armed Assassin bowed down again, pressing his arm gently to the back of Amir's head to get the fidgety boy down as well.

"Safety and peace, Malik."

"Ahki!" Lex was tackled to the floor as Amir bolted up and flung himself at him. "I'm a Coal Tit!"

"Heavy Coal Tit," he gasped. "Get off, Amiri. I need air." The boy sat up, dressed in Novice gray robes already, hugging the Sparrow around the neck. "You're a songbird too, huh?" He ruffled the other's black and white hair. "It suites you. Little bird even looks the same."

"I doubt you came here just to get a hug from your little brother?" asked the Hawk, though a smile played around his lips.

"I was wondering how you promote someone." Malik raised a brow.

"You feel your student deserves this?" Lex nodded. "Good. I did as well. Then you can assist in training Amir." The Sparrow nodded, keeping his head bowed. He swayed slightly. Amir wrapped his arms around him, frowning.

"Brother?"

"I'm okay, Amir. Desmond just dropped a bookcase on my head."

"Nevertheless, take him with you." The Journeyman looked up at the Dai. Malik stood and helped him up. "God willing that Novice didn't break anything inside your skull, Skandar, for his sake as well as yours. Jameel might have his head for it."

"God only knows what we'd do without Desmond. He might end up being the Mahdi." Lex laughed weakly, groaning as he hobbled out with Amir by his side, leaning on the boy's slightly lower shoulder. Moving back up to the keep, he gathered up the items he would need, then followed Amir back out, still using his arm as a crutch. The Sparrow noted with a hint of satisfaction that Desmond was bent over, picking up an armful of books.

As they neared the Falcon's house, Lex winked to Amir and pressed a finger to his lips. The boy covered his mouth with his hands. Lex knocked at the door, slipping out of his boots once more. The young man smiled as Sarah spotted him, rising from where she'd knelt and putting her arms around him as he did the same. He laughed softly as the younger woman kissed his brow. He leaned down and kissed her cheeks.

"Where's Yameen?"

"What's wanted of my husband?" The woman smiled mischievously, making it obvious that she'd guessed his purpose there by the bundle beneath his arm.

"Oh, I'm just about to make him very happy is all." Lex grinned as he was hugged tightly. Freeing himself, he made his way to Gilbert's room, where the man was dressing. "G'morsche, Gilly."

"Spaetzlein, what's gotten you to brave the cold?" The German looked over at him, long hair hanging free against his bare, whip-scarred back. The young man tossed him a white tunic. Gilbert looked it over, then raised his eyes as Lex held up a sword and a belt full of throwing knives.

"Welcome to the club, Journeyman."

Lex barely had time to leave his breath behind him as he was picked up and swung around, hugged against Gilbert's chest. His entire frame vibrated with the German's laughter. "I take it you like this news so early in the morning? I should make it a habit if you learn to let me breathe, my friend." The hold on him loosened, but only slightly.

"I can't say how happy I am, my friend. It's beyond words my tongue can use."

"Don't thank me so much yet. If you become a Master, schalack goes the finger." He indicated Gilbert's ring finger. The German gave him a small frown, but another quick embrace followed before he was set on his feet again.

"What will happen will happen, Spaetzlein." A hand ruffled his hair, fluffing his bangs into his eyes. "I am grateful, my friend, and I owe you far too much already to repay in a single lifetime."

"Nothing to repay, Gilly." Lex smiled as he felt his stomach growl. "But could I sit in on your wife's cooking? I think that'd be a great start." The two men laughed as they left the room, Gilbert taking only a few minutes to adjust to his new attire.

As hard as it was, Lex managed to drag himself away from the family after a few hours, saying he would return to help with Amir's training and getting the new Journeyman accustomed to giving orders.

He made his way down to the village, giving a few nods to some of those that greeted him, not quite busy enough not to notice the young Assassin. Coming near the stable, he found the man he was looking for.

"Brother." The masked man looked up from the mare he was grooming.

"Oh, it's you. Has the Novice opened his mouth again? I won't help you a second time." He ran the brush over the mare's dark fur. "I dislike those who would speak harshly to someone they've only just injured, but I dislike more those who're too weak to stand on the two legs God gave them, boy."

"Sheesh. I just wanted to thank you for the first time, not that there's gonna be a second." The man turned his head and looked at him with his good eye. "So, thank you...?"

"Badr."

"Thanks, Badr."

"Is that all?"

"What? No 'you're welcome'? 'No problem'? Do I even get a 'go to hell'?"

"Would you please continue along the lines of that last one?" The black cloth quirked up at the edges as the man's cheeks twitched; Lex could almost feel the smirk beneath the mask. "I don't exactly have time to deal with petulant children."

"Okay, I'm making the case that you like being a belligerant dickhead."

"I'll not attest to that last part."

"But you are belligerant?"

"I only return as much as I've taken."

"Oooh. How much can you take?"

"Quite a bit. How much can you give?"

"One helluva lot."

"Hmph. How would you put that in terms I can understand, Novice?" Lex made a show of counting on his fingers.

"Oh, about three hundred with nine millions after it."

"...Hmph." The man shook his head and looked at his horse. "Zift." The mare snorted as if in agreement.

"Whatever that means, Mr. Humpy."

"Mr. What?"

"Hmph." Lex put a heavy emphasis on the noise Badr had been making, drawing it out through his nose so that it was almost a whine. "Sounds like you're a camel, Mr. Humpy."

"At least I don't sound like a brainless colt."

"Please, this colt got more c**k than Smith'n'Wesson."

Badr shook his head again, both not understanding what in all the names of God the lad was talking about, but also finding him unworthy of a response. Still, his curiosity was peaked. Lex eyed him for a moment before turning to leave. A minute later he gagged as the collar of his hood rammed against his throat, spun around and pressed against the taller man's chest.

A hand was pressed hard between his legs. The Sparrow stiffened, from the contact at the knowledge that with just a twitch of his pinkie the messenger could make him a good deal less a man.

"Perhaps you weren't exagerating too much." Badr shifted his grip, pressing his hand to the back of the smaller man's neck as he gave a brief attempt at struggle. He bent his head, pressing their cheeks together as he spoke in his ear, "However, little colt, bear in mind that you're no stallion." Lex strangled down a noise as the hand gripped at him. "Not yet in any case."

The dark eye lifted toward a flash of gold as he stared at the German across the way. Releasing the smaller Journeyman, he watched as he sank to the ground. "Take care of yourself, sadiqi. There are two kinds of Falcons here in Masyaf. One may be quick, but the other is quick and strong." Lex stared at him for a few seconds before finding his feet and backing away, turning only when he was far enough away from the man to feel himself safe.

"Lex?" Gilbert kept his eyes on the man beside the stables as he spoke. "Did he harm you?"

"No. I'm okay, Gilbert." Lex swallowed. "Can I have a minute alone, though, to take care of my...problem?" His face burned ashamedly as he made his way to the nearest haystack, one Desmond hadn't found to occupy. He didn't want to have to explain to Jameel, if the Master Assassin spotted him somehow, why he had such a heavy blush on his face and buldge in his pants.


Lex ran across the rooftops toward the next flag, hurrying to get there before Amir. The Novice had no shortage of stamina and skill when it came to parkour, or so the free running the Assassins practiced would come to be called, but it was still good to test his speed every now and then.

It had been several days since he'd last seen hide or hair of Badr, for which he was grateful. Gilbert had kept an eye on the stables each time he left on a mission, such as missions went these days. The Templars had moved out of the Holy Land for the most part, but that didn't mean a new threat wasn't somewhere on the horizon.

Even at this late stage in the game, vestiges of the Third Crusade clung to their outposts, and with them, Templars. Why did they stay? Lex wasn't certain, but he'd chalked it up to some sort of pay grade. People who stayed in obviously hostile places get bigger pensions? Besides, who knows when that whole Fourth Crusade thing'll start? Weren't there, like, nine?

"You're falling behind, Brother!" Amir taunted as he flipped through the air and snatched up the flag. Lex shook his head and picked up the pace, dropping down below the boy to roll and take the flag he'd missed hidden beneath a wooden awning that covered the immediate area before someone's doorstep. Stuffing it into the bands that held the others he'd collected, he made his way toward where the boy was balanced on a low wall, picking the next one as if it were a flower.

He hurried off toward Gilbert as Lex moved to check for any more Amir had missed. He spotted one on one of the climbing struts stuck into the wall of the rock above the river. Climbing over the low wall, he gripped it with one hand and reached. Little more... He leaned further, bracing one foot on the wall. His fingers closed over the fabric as a hand clamped on his belt and pulled him up.

Lex looked up into a pair of blue eyes as he was seated on the low wall, fingers combing his bird's-nest hair.

"The Falcon's brother is looking for you, Sparrow." Jameel frowned as he felt a flinch travel through his lover. "Lex?" The Red Owl gave a soft sigh. "You two haven't gone back to annoying one another, have you?"

"No, Tancred and I're fine."

"But?" The Master Assassin leaned against the nearest house wall and folded his arms as the younger man looked down toward the river below. "Is it this idiocy with Desmond? Whatever you two fought about, this foolishness of avoiding one another shouldn't have gone on this long."

"No, it's not Desmond. And I don't really care if he decides to avoid me from here to three Tuesdays from now."

"Did you set his haystack on fire?" Lex looked at him.

"The what?"

"Did you set his haystack on fire?" Jameel cocked a brow. "Insult his love affair with it? God forbid, did you suggest the Novices urinate on it?" Lex shook his head and laughed softly.

"No, no, we didn't impugn the haystack's honor." He sighed and ran a hand over his eyes, swinging his legs around the wall to stand. "Look, I'll tell you whenever I get back from helping out Tancred."

"As you like." Jameel kissed him gently and gave him a push toward where the Germans were located. "Safety and peace, my little bird." Lex smiled and nodded, trotting off.

"Ach da bist du ja, du halbe Portion!" called Tancred. The informant gave him a wave. He was dressed in merchants' robes once more, his hair pinned back by his ears and a band of cord.

"Ja, ja. Was ist, Tancred?" Lex asked as he neared the man. "Wohin gehst du? Damas? Jerusalem? Acre?"

"Ich gehe nach Hause."

"Gehst nach...?" The Sparrow chewed his lip. Of course. The job of an informant was to go out and, well, gather information for the person he needed to inform of things. He hung his head. "Jetzt?"

"Zwei Tage Zeit." A large hand settled on his shoulder. "Kommen du und mein Bruder um mir Lebewohl zu sagen?"

"In the immortal words of some guy somewhere: No s**t, Sherlock. Natuerlich, Tancred, du bloedes Arschloch!" The lad grinned as he mounted up. The Falcon rose onto his own mount as the brothers and the Sparrow set off toward the coast.




The shipyard of Tartus was just as noisy as the port in Acre. Lex wasn't sure why he'd expected any different. Hell, if anything, this place is louder. He ducked as a trunk of something or other was swung by his head, nearly knocking him flat.

"Beeil dich, du halbes Portion!" A hand grasped his robes and pulled him along before the Germans' arms wrapped around his shoulders, Gilbert from one end and Tancred from the other. "The lad won't get crushed once I take my arm from him, will he?"

"He can ride on my shoulders if you're afraid for him, Brother." Gilbert smiled at his sibling's concern.

"He's only a little fellow, like your boy." Tancred folded his arms. "And you'd better take care of him as well. And send me letters! Make them thick, too!"

"Jesus Christ, man, you sound like someone's mom," Lex laughed.

"Halt's Maul, Spaetzlein." The two men stared at the merchant as he used Gilbert's pet name for the boy. "Erm..." Tancred looked between the two before scooping Lex into his arms. "Ja, ja, Gott halte dich in seinen Haenden, Jungchen. Und dich auch, Bruderherz."

"Ich liebe dich auch, Bruderherz." Lex yelped as he was set atop Gilbert's shoulders and hoisted up to watch Tancred move through the crowd. The German took his place at the rail of his ship and waved to the two. "Lebewohl, Bruderherz!"

"Lebewohl, Arschloch!" Lex waved, then cupped his hands over his mouth. "Tancred!"

"Was ist, du kleines Arschloch?"

"I'm dropping mad apples on your head from the shoulders of giants!"

"Know this then before I'm gone, Skandar of Masyaf: I don't wish you luck! I wish you sense!" The two stood on the docks, watching as the ship raised anchor, gazing out into the horizon as it seemed to sail over the lip of the world and disappear from view.



Desmond sat on the bed. Altair leaned against the wall opposite him. The younger Eagle watched his ancestor.

"So? Do you know how those crystals work or not?"

"I do."

"But?"

"I'm taking precautions. I don't want to lose the entire village if this should backfire."

"But you know how they work!"

"That's not the point, Desmond."

"It is so the point!" Desmond stood. "God, this is insane!" He narrowed his eyes at the man. "It's not the entire village you're worried about, it's just one person in the village."

"And that one person in the village could take the whole village with him." The Eagles looked at one another for a full minute before Desmond broke off the glaring contest and strode outside.



Lex sighed as he and Gilbert finally made it into the German's house. Sarah smiled as they entered, the smell of cooking roiling their stomachs, even at this late hour. Amir hugged the both of them as they entered.

"Stay the night, Spaetzlein. You're as saddle sore as I am." The Falcon took a heavy seat at the table as Lex lowered himself down inch by agonizing inch. The other Assassin wasn't lying. His back was sore and he was sure somehow killing him with it; he was shaking.

"You're going to be all right, aren't you, Skandar?" asked Sarah as she set out plates for them and took a seat herself. "You're always welcome here, you know."

"I think I mentioned it before, but I come for the company and stay for your cooking."

"Yes, two days ago at breakfast, I believe." Lex grinned.

"Have you gotten tired of it already?" The woman smiled and shook her head. The Sparrow sighed and looked over at Amir as he finally acknowledged the tugging that had been going on for the past minute and a half, or what felt like a minute and a half. "Yes, Amir? What is it?" The Coal Tit was practically doing backflips around the room.

"We're going to be brothers again!"

"Huh?" By way of explanation, the tall Journeyman reached over and set a hand on his wife's belly. It stuck out a good few inches from the rest of her. "Oh my God, how the hell did I miss this?!" Lex planted his head onto the table. "Congratulations, you two, but I seriously can't process this right now. I need to get some sleep."



Jameel jumped off the watchtower, hood falling back as the wind moved past his head. He landed in the hay and crawled up the tower again, eyes scanning the area. He smiled as he spotted two horses coming into Masyaf. Movement caught his eye from the other side. He dropped down into the hay again. The Assassin stood up, picking out straw from his hair as he went to the shadows of the barbican.

Desmond stalked the training yard, walking back and forth, barbican to dais, wall to wall, corner to corner. Altair looked at him for a moment before walking away.

"Desmond, why are you carving trenches in the training yard?"

"He's holding out on me."

"Who, Altair? What's he keeping from you?"

"He has to know how those crystals work!"

The time traveller stopped and looked at Jameel. The Red Owl looked back at him. No further words were spoken between them. None needed to be said. Jameel's frigid blue eyes had turned as cold as icicles when the crystals they'd gotten from the cave in Ephesus were mentioned. Leaving Desmond pinned to the spot, the Master Assassin shut himself up in his room for the rest of the night.

Chandra hooted at him from her perch on the desk as the man shut the door and threw himself onto his bed. Jameel stared at the wall for some time before he took one of the pillows from Lex's side and hugged it to his chest, pressing his face into it. It was no subsitute for the young man down in the village his arms seemed to know they lacked.