the-secret-crusade-oliver-bowden

‘How dare you?’ she retorted and, despite himself, Altaïr smiled. Any
fear Maria experienced was always short-lived.
‘Touched a nerve, did I?’ roared Bouchart, enjoying himself. Then,
‘Lock her up.’
And with that the meeting was over. Bouchart turned and left,
leaving the glassy-eyed body of Osman on the steps behind him. Maria
was bound and dragged away.
Altair’s eyes went from the receding figure of Bouchart to Maria. He
was torn, trying to decide on his next course of action. Bouchart was
close. He might not have this chance again. Strike at him when he least
expected it.
But then again – Maria.
He let himself down from the rooftop and followed the men as they
led her out of the Cathedral Square, presumably towards the gaol. He
kept at a safe distance. Then, when they’d turned off into a quieter
street, he struck.
Moments later the two guards were dead and Altaïr was approaching
Maria where she had been tossed aside, her hands still bound, struggling
to get to her feet. He reached for her and she jerked away from him. ‘Get
your hands off me,’ she snapped. ‘They consider me a traitor, thanks to
you.’
Altaïr smiled indulgently – even though she had alerted Bouchart to
his presence. ‘I am only a convenient excuse for your wrath, Maria. The
Templars are your real enemy.’
She glowered. ‘I will kill you when I get the chance.’
‘If you get the chance … but then you’ll never find the Apple, the
Piece of Eden. And which would curry more favour with the Templars