I first met him on a rooftop.

He was dressed like a monk or a scholar, but the weapons he carried belied his true nature. It is a miracle, I think, that guards did not shout "Hashshashin!" the minute they saw him. How could he be anything else, with that deadly sway in his walk, the way he wore death like a mantle?

In any case, I had been up on the roof checking for a crack. My father owned the building and he claimed that rats were getting in through a hole in the roof. I was sent up to check, for as he had but a single daughter, he was forced to rely on my help rather than that of a sturdy son. He did not love me the less for it, and though he protected me with all the fierceness of a single father he did not chain me down. For that I always was grateful. It was early evening, and in the fading light I scoured the dusty stones for a telltale chink. That is when I came across a most unusual symbol, something that vaguely resembled a partially opened compass. It was unfamiliar to me, especially since I was not aware that there was another building behind ours. I saw that the symbol seemed to point into a garden, sealed with a plain woven wicker grating. Green ivy poked through in places. Upon closer examination I saw that part of the grate could be removed, to open the garden to the sky. I inched closer and looked down not into a garden but a pavilion, scattered with colorful throw pillows and adorned with a handsomely carved fountain. I was lost in my examination of this strange hidden place and did not notice the man till he spoke. Considering what he is, though, perhaps I would not have noticed him either way.

"What are you doing here?"

His voice was level and quiet, and all too calm for my tastes. I spun around so fast I nearly fell. I had not expected anyone else to be up on the rooftops. Especially not someone like him. I tensed immediately, my eyes flicking to the ladder that was a mere ten feet away and back to his face. Those ten feet might as well have been a mile. He was implacable, I could feel it like heat from an oven.

"I…I was looking for cracks in the ceiling. My father said mice were getting into the house. I saw the symbol and was curious"

To my own ears the explanation seemed feeble, my position not helped by my cracked voice. I cleared my throat and tried again.

"I will not trouble you further, I-"

Suddenly, something streaked between us. An arrow. It clattered against the far wall.

"It's the assassin! Stop him!"

The man uttered an oath and scanned the distant rooftops, marking the guards that approached. I could see three archers and four more men drawing swords as the scrambled clumsily toward us. I cursed as well, using one of those precious few words I kept in stock for such situations. The guards seemed to have grouped me with the assassin, for another arrow whizzed by decidedly closer to me than him. More fwips pursued that one, as the archers paused in their climb to fire deadly missiles. More arrows flew out of the half-light, but from the other direction. Damnation! There were guards on the buildings across from us. They had boxed us in. I did not find it strange to have so suddenly aligned myself with the mysterious, white-robed man. The guards seemed to have chosen my allegiance for me anyway.

"Follow me!"

I don't know what it was that made me wave my hand out urgently to the stranger. Perhaps a feeling of kinship, what with me being unfairly assaulted by the supposed city guard, perhaps I was simply not thinking straight at the time. In any case, I darted for the ladder, taking the rungs two at a time. I was only marginally surprised when a white blur landed next to me. Too good for conventional methods, then. I ran off down the street, the rattle of metal on metal close behind us signaling pursuit. Unsurprisingly, the deadly stranger made little noise, and his movements were efficient and graceful. Darting down a side alley, I yanked him into a doorway. There was a crude curtain nailed to the doorjamb, with about a foot and a half of clearance between it and the actual door. It was the house of my best friend Sudha, but her and her family was in Jerusalem, visiting relatives. In the dimness, I struggled to control my panting so the guards would not hear me. Their shouts and clamor were still clearly audible, and they seemed determined to stay in the area. I took the opportunity to examine this man who had so changed my life in a few short minutes. I could not see very well in such light, but I could make out a handsome face under that hood. A scar marred his lips, but it was not ugly so much as heroic. I thought he looked like some legend had stepped right off the pages of a book. Like a prince or a-a noble warrior! Someone dangerous, in any case. The set of his jaw and that chilling coldness in his eyes told me as much. Really, how DID the man manage to set foot out of doors without a horde of guards descending on him like a cloud of mildly retarded vultures? The recessed doorway was narrow, forcing us to stand closely together. I was still clutching the front of his robe in a white-knuckled grip, but I could not force myself to relax. I could feel his breathing, though, and it seemed level and not at all labored. I gritted my teeth in envy. If only I were allowed to run about often enough to build up such endurance! Unfortunately, even a short run would leave me breathless and set my heart hammering in my chest. Indistinct shouts from beyond the curtain still reached us, so we stood frozen there for who knows how long. He seemed to suddenly realize that I was still there, and turned his gaze to meet mine instead of staring fixedly at something beyond the curtain. It was like a physical blow, and my breathing hitched for a second. He had dark eyes, rimmed with sleepless bruises. Such an intense stare it was, that it pinned me to the wooden frame behind me like a stake had been driven through my forehead. Silence, but for external noises, cocooned us. I could not speak, for the infinite layers of meaning in his eyes I could not even begin to understand had paralyzed me. He was more than a man, and yet less. In his hollowness he transcended what it meant to be human. All in nothing more than a look! I shuddered to think what terrible secrets he could tell. I cleared my throat nervously.

"The guards are not usually so persistent. They cannot linger much longer, I am sure"

I tried to fill the silence, but still he did not speak. I could feel a bead of cold sweat trickling down my spine. Gods, but he was intimidating. I regretted guiding him away, and yet knew that it could not have been otherwise. City guards were slow to distinguish between innocents and criminals. Purposely slow.

"There is no yelling anymore. You can be on your way…"

Still no response, just that damnable stare. It was like he was trying to read my mind. He shifted suddenly, and broke my grip on him. I flushed, suddenly re-aware that I had failed to let go of him in the tense moment. I could not think clearly. It was a combination of knee-knocking fear and star struck awe. He was so strikingly handsome, so very serious, so deadly. I could not function correctly in his presence, and I did not even know him.

"Thank you for your help"

And then he was gone. The only thing that suggested that he had ever been there was the flutter of the curtain behind him and the terrified rattle in my chest.