“Don’t tell me you’re waiting for him too?”
Abu Ali gave a cunning smile and replied.
“The masses have never waited for someone in vain. Believe me. History bears it out. Whether good or terrible, he’ll come, because the wishes of thousands and thousands of hearts will demand it. That’s the great secret of mankind. You don’t know when or where he’ll come from. All of a sudden, he’ll be here.”
“It looks like a form of madness is getting the better of you too. You believe! Even though you know that mankind lives on delusions.”
“If he believes, why shouldn’t I believe too?”
“I’m beginning to think that’s what all of you have always wanted.”
“The dais don’t trust us, because they think we’re the commander’s men. He has the key to the fedayeen. We have to go back to him.”
“All this shifting back and forth doesn’t feel right to me one bit. But you have a point. The dais have nothing to offer us. We don’t have our own people. So, then, our place is with the commander.”
At that moment, back in their residence, the girls were crying disconsolately for Halima. They assembled around the pool, and like a hawk attacking a flock of doves, Fatima told them how everything had happened. They timidly hung their heads and mourned their lost companion. The girls from the two far gardens also returned that night. The horrible news made them feel as though they were all one family.
“Halima was the best of all of us.”
“It’s going to be lonely and sad in the gardens without her.”
“It’ll be awfully boring.”
“How are we going to get by without her?”
Miriam sat alone to one side. She listened to what the others were saying and felt twice as bad. She realized that she was powerless and that nothing bound her to life anymore. Why should she even bother? As dawn approached, she told the girls to go to bed. She went to find a sharp blade, entered her bath, undressed, and lay down in the basin. Then she opened the veins in her wrists.
Now she felt calm as the water gradually began to turn red. As her blood flowed out, so did her life. An enormous exhaustion overcame her. “Time to sleep,” she said to herself. She closed her eyes and sank into the water.
The next morning, when Fatima came to her bath to look for her, she found her pale and dead in the water, red from her blood. Her scream reverberated through the entire building, and then she fainted.
At about the same time, a soldier of the sultan’s army came to the river to water some horses and donkeys. Caught among tree branches in a small inlet he saw the naked body of a young girl. He pulled it to shore and couldn’t help exclaiming, “What a beauty!”
Then, somewhat farther down, he noticed the body of a large animal. Some kind of leopard, he thought. He managed to get it to shore too.
The animals neighed in fright.
“Easy now… I’ll go report this to my commander.”
The emir’s men came to the river bank in large numbers to look at the strange find. An old soldier said, “This is a bad sign. A leopard and a maiden in the embrace of death.”
A captain ordered them buried side by side.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Over the following days the emir’s army continued to bombard Alamut steadily. The Ismailis grew inured to the crash and rumbling of projectiles against the castle’s walls. Hasan’s prediction turned out to have been right on target. The soldiers posted atop the walls would watch the incoming projectiles and ebulliently evaluate each one of them, laughing and jeering wildly at the bad ones, or loudly exclaiming their admiration for the good ones. None of them were the slightest bit fearful anymore. They used signals to communicate with the enemy. Ibn Vakas, who had taken the late Obeida’s place as leader of the scouts, soon found in these good relations a convenient opportunity to reestablish direct contact with the emir’s army. He sent out one of his own men together with one of the prisoners. The prisoner related that his fellow prisoners back at the castle were doing well and that the Ismailis treated them with respect. The Ismaili asked the emir’s men whether they were interested in trading with Alamut. There was plenty of money in the fortress, and overnight a thriving black market came into being that linked the men on both sides.
The news that ibn Vakas intercepted through this conduit was invaluable for the besieged castle. First of all he learned that the emir’s army no longer amounted to thirty thousand men, but barely half that number. Then, that even those remaining were short of provisions and that, as a result, the men were constantly grumbling and pressing for them to withdraw. Emir Arslan Tash would have liked to send another five thousand men back to Rai or Qazvin, but given the reports of the Ismailis’ fanatical determination and skill, he was afraid of losing his advantage and meeting with the same fate as the commander of his vanguard.
Little more than a week had passed when a messenger came rushing into the emir’s camp and reported the horrific news that some Ismaili had stabbed the grand vizier in the midst of his own army at Nehavend. Arslan Tash was thunderstruck. In an instant his imagination conjured a disguised murderer trying to get at him. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead.
“Call Abu Jafar here!” he ordered.
The captain arrived.
“Have you heard?” he asked him worriedly.
“I’ve heard, Excellency. Nizam al-Mulk has been murdered.”
“What was it the master of Alamut said?”
“That he knew something about the grand vizier that Your Excellency would only find out about in six or even twelve days. And that when that happened, Your Excellency should remember him and his message.”
“O Allah, Allah! He knew everything already. It was he who sent the murderer to Nehavend. But what did he mean by saying I should remember him?”
“Nothing good for you, I’m afraid.”
The emir drew one hand across his eyes. Then he leapt toward the entrance like a deer.
“Commander of the guards! Quick! I want you to increase your forces tenfold. No man should ever be without his weapon. Put guards everywhere. Don’t let anyone through, except for my officers and individuals whom I’ve summoned personally!”
Then he rejoined Abu Jafar.
“Assemble the drummers! Get all of the men battle-ready. Anyone who has the slightest contact with Alamut will be beheaded on the spot.”
Even before Abu Jafar had a chance to carry out this order, an officer came dashing into the tent.
“Mutiny! The catapult teams have saddled their horses and mules and fled south. The sergeants who opposed them were beaten and bound.”
Arslan Tash clutched at his head.
“Oh, you dog! You son of a dog! How could you let this happen?”
The officer angrily stared at the ground.
“They’re hungry. They don’t want to fight against a powerful prophet.”
“Well, what do you advise me to do?”
Abu Jafar replied dispassionately. “The grand vizier, the mortal enemy of the Ismailis, is dead. Taj al-Mulk is in power. He’s sympathetic to the master of Alamut.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“The men who know how to operate the siege equipment have fled. What purpose is there in continuing to surround Alamut?”
Arslan Tash relaxed visibly. Out of duty, more than for any other reason, he shouted, “So you recommend that I run shamefully?”
“No, Your Excellency. It’s just that the situation has changed significantly with the vizier’s death. We have to wait for orders from the sultan and the new grand vizier.”
“Well, that’s different.”
He called an assembly of the officers. Most of them favored retreat. The men were opposed to fighting the Ismailis.