The glimmer of hope in her eyes was a hunger now, and he knew he could mold her as he wished. He took a deep breath, his hand upon his bearded chin, as though considering, and with each gesture, each subtle stroke of his finger, the woman became his willing servant.
"Atonement," he repeated, binding her with the very rope he extended to the pit of her fear. "Tonight you will go to the stranger, as you have these five nights past. This time you will take what I shall give to you, a small vial, a cleansing potion, and you will mix it with the evening drink. Do you hear?”
She held her breath, desperate to still the trembling of her body. “Do you understand?” The Sami repeated, and Samirah struggled to speak, but her voice was lost, a frightened breath that was barely a whisper. The Sami’s eyes held her, pressing into her, breaking her. The moment seemed interminable. He did not need her answer to know that all would be as he had spoken it. Still, a brief reminder of things that might be seemed appropriate to him as he turned to leave her.
“Hang now in these chains,” he told her. “Let your arms grow numb and your legs weaken in their iron grip. Know them well. Feel the coarse, cold rock upon your naked back. Hear the scrabble of rats in the straw upon the floor. This will be your abode if you should fail me. You will hang here for an age and more, and the guards will be sent to pleasure themselves and complete your shame.”
He pried open the bolt of the door, and slid through the portal on soundless feet. The business of the night was only just begun.
An hour later seven men stood in a damp chamber at the base of the high tower of Massiaf. It was the first time they had ever set foot in this hidden chamber of the castle, and dread began to possess them from the moment they heard the summons to meet there with the Sami. Now their eyes gaped at the scene before them, as if unwilling to believe what they were seeing. Their bodies shivered, the evening chill simply magnifying the cold terror that gripped them from within. By God, by holy God, the voice from beyond was speaking to them!
A silver platter sat on the stark inlaid floor stones. It was awash with freshly spilled blood, and there, square in the middle of the platter, was the disembodied head of a young initiate! They knew the man, a late recruit in the Sami’s den of Assassins. He had only just finished his first rite of initiation, drinking the cup of Paradise. While most would still languish in dreams after such an experience, his sleep had been final. Now his severed head sat in a pool of blood, the face bruised with livid welts, the flesh of his cheeks and forehead pale and sallow.
And the head spoke!
The eyes rolled in a dreamy trance and the mouth lolled open, slack and swollen. The head spoke to them! It warned of a great danger that had come upon them, a man sent by the enemies of Islam through a sacred passage reserved only for the highest initiates, only for the most pure. Yet he had defiled it with his presence, and cast a spell upon all who touched him. The head spoke!
It berated them for allowing such transgression, shaming them for their lack of vigilance. It cursed the name of one they were sworn to obey, and held him in blasphemy. The Kadi General, it told them, was weak and beset with an evil eye. He had fallen under the spell of the unbelievers. His judgment was skewed and he was delirious with his own self-importance. Then, last of all, the head spoke the will of Allah in this matter. The Kadi must die.
The seven men listened in horror, as the severed head gasped out a gruesome, gurgling scream. Then the eyes dimmed and fluttered closed. The purple tongue lolled out and was silent at last. The head returned to the dead, its message spoken, its decree branded into the hearts of all who listened. Their eyes were glassy with tears as they watched the ghastly scene conclude. Then a voice spoke from the high stone chair.
“So,” it whispered. “You have heard.” The Sami stood up, clutching the milky green amulet at his breast and extending a long arm, hand pointing at the seven men to drive home the charge that had been ordained for them. “You have seen and heard the will of Allah, with your own eyes and ears. Do not deceive yourselves, for such magic is very powerful, and can only be worked in times of great need. You are here, and now you know what you must do.”
The Sami spoke, and the men listened as he told them that they had been chosen to defend the faith and cleanse the castle. “The stranger must die,” he told them. “Have no fear. That is a task I will reserve for another. You need never see him, or risk his evil eye. I will accomplish it with my own devices. But yours is the greater task. For the evil eye has walked among us and poisoned the hearts of many. You have heard that even the Kadi General is among those led astray. He too must die, and you will bring holy retribution upon our enemies by the working of this deed. So, hear now, and obey. Go to the armory and take up weapons as you choose. Say nothing to anyone! Wash, in the manner taught to you, and pray before you set this task before you. Go to the Kadi and bear this scroll.”
He reached into the folds of his long white gown and drew out a rolled parchment scroll, tied off with a slender leather lace. “Say that it was late received from Egypt, and he will be eager for it, I assure you. Then you know what you must do when you draw near to him. Leave no one in the room alive to bear witness. Return here when the deed is done. Bar the door, and heed no voice but my own.”
The seven men stooped in a deep, respectful bow, then rose and left the room in silence, their faces as pale and drawn as the severed head on the platter before them. The Sami allowed himself a smile as he remembered his ploy, remembered how he rushed to the great oaken door and threw home the bolt. He stooped to regard the severed head where it lay upon the platter, fearless, a devious grin twisting his features. A moment later he leaned down to grasp the edge of the platter, pulling hard. It separated into two haves, each with a semicircle cut in the center so that a small hole, just the width of a man’s neck, would be created when the halves were joined. There was a narrow pit dug in the floor and, in it, the body of the young initiate slumped lifelessly to one side.
The body moved, but the Sami had no fear. He knew that another man, one of his chosen guards, was also secreted in the bottom of the pit where he had been holding fast to the bare legs of the initiate, a sleek dagger held tight against the mans loins, lest he fail in the duty the Sami had demanded of him.
The Sami sat on his haunches while his favored guard squeezed out of the hole. “Well done,” he whispered. “He played the moment wonderfully. Your knife stroke was perfect, and he died well. Now, finish the job and cut off his head in earnest. There is a burlap sack beside my chair. Place the head inside and take it out to the inner courtyard tonight. Mount it there upon a sturdy spike. It will stand as evidence that what these seven have seen here tonight was true. For they will speak. No man could harbor the vision we played out for them in his heart for long. When they are accused in the matter of the Kadi, they will speak. The Kadi will die tonight, along with the intruder and all who have been sullied by his coming. It is only fortunate for me that I stayed my hand when I moved to kill the man in council chambers. I did not touch him, and so I was not defiled.” He drew his robes tight about him.
“You have done well,” he said “but if your heart darkens at anything we must do this night to purify these chambers, remember only the words that were spoken to you long ago: that everything is permitted… Everything.”
He let the words hang in the air, knowing they would brand his man, and remind him of the rite of obedience he swore. “There is a wolf among us now, and we must be like wolves ourselves if we are to save the moment. This subterfuge was necessary to assure obedience, but for you I say this: tonight a bird came to me where I waited in the Eyrie of Sinan. Yes, it is forbidden to all, but not to me. See here where I keep the keys fastened at my belt? I waited there for news from Alamut, and a messenger came to my window. It bore this!”