John Schettler - Nexus Point

In the dark hour, just before the setting of the moon, his guards came to the chamber of maids. The women were lounging in a hot steam bath, the smoke from the smoldering coals scenting the air and adding to the misty haze of the room. The Sami smiled to imagine their fear and surprise when his men set upon them. They were sent to find the harlot, Samirah, and drag her away to the tower. When the hour came he listened for the shrill cries echoing from the vaulted chambers of the castle. It was done, and he went to the tower where the woman was held, to work his persuasion upon her, and set his will in motion.

The light from a single torch painted the bare walls in hues of ruddy orange and sable. The guards turned with a milky fear in their eyes, then fell to their knees as they recognized the Sami when he entered, their heads bowed in supplication.

“Withdraw,” he told them, and his command was obeyed at once. The dry, scraping echo of the bolt on the door soon faded to silence, chased by the fleeing footsteps of the retreating guards. The harlot, Samirah, stared at him shaking with fear and the chill of the cold wall at her back.

He could see, behind the fear, the glimmer of recognition in her eyes. He saw how her breath came fast, for she had no doubt heard the tales describing the fate of those who were taken from the harem. They were bound in cold chains, tortured, the skin flailed from their bodies, and then cast about with black sorcery to be made witches and concubines of demons. The Sami laughed inwardly to think how he had long cultivated such rumors, feeding them as one might lay fresh wood on a fire. Once the fear had taken hold it would burn on its own, and he could see that the flame was well kindled in the eyes of the woman when he came to her. The Sami remembered how she struggled to turn her head away when he approached, but his eyes caught and fixed her gaze, as though she was already benumbed by some unspoken charm.

Yet, he did nothing. It was enough for him to simply hold the woman’s eyes with his own, until the unblinking strength of his will surrounded her like an icy fog. He could feel her fear, and knew that the longer he waited the more she would dwell upon the inner dread that consumed her with each passing moment. He would do nothing. Her own fear would be enough to suit his purpose.

When the moment came he recognized it at once. Her eyes grew glassy with tears and she gave a last sigh of resignation, broken to the terror that she conjured from within. At last he spoke to her, though his voice was soft and measured, his words carefully chosen.

"There are those who would sooner die than defile themselves by consorting with our enemies. It seems that you are not so pure as your face and form might show.”

Again the silence and the waiting, where each second became a dark space that Samirah filled with a thousand demons of her own making. Her breath came fast, yet she remained frozen, paralyzed by the unbending regard of the Sami. His eyes were like blue fire, scoring her, shaming her, promising just punishment.

“Hear me,” he said at last. “You will do a thing now that may yet redeem your soul from the blackness I perceive. You will gain atonement for your sin."

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.”