Hasan flinched, and his whole body shuddered.
“What did you say?” he asked, as though he couldn’t believe his ears.
“The sultan deposed Nizam al-Mulk and named the sultana’s secretary as interim vizier.”
“Taj al-Mulk?” Abu Ali asked, overjoyed. “He’s our ally.”
“Not now that the sultana expects her little son to be proclaimed heir to the throne, as the law states,” the reis explained.
“What treachery,” the grand dai murmured.
Hasan remained silent and pensive. He leaned forward and began drawing odd circles on the carpet with his finger.
The two old men also fell silent. They watched his movements and waited for him to say something.
“If the sultana’s secretary has replaced Nizam al-Mulk, then it’s clear that our situation at the court has fundamentally changed,” Hasan said at last. “That crosses my plans a bit. I had thought I’d have peace until next spring. By then I would have completed my preparations. Now, I’m just going to have to speed them up.”
“Oh yes, I almost forgot the most important thing,” the reis interrupted him. “Nizam al-Mulk may have lost the viziership, but he’s been given an order to eliminate the Ismailis as soon as possible.”
“Then it’s a struggle to the death,” Abu Ali said grimly. “For the grand vizier that’s the same thing as ordering a wolf to clear out the sheepfold.”
“No, we’re no sheepfold yet, that’s for sure,” Hasan laughed. He had silently come to some decision, and his previous cheerfulness had returned.
“We need to take quick action,” he concluded. “What does Muzaffar think? Is he ready to help us?”
“He and I discussed all the possibilities at length,” Abul Fazel replied. “He likes you and he’s ready to cover your retreat from the Turkish cavalry. But he’s also helpless against the main force of the emir’s army.”
“I understand, I understand,” Hasan said. The old mischievous smile played around his mouth and eyes. “So where does His Excellency advise me to retreat to?”
“That was precisely the subject of our most heated discussions,” the reis observed. He acted as though he hadn’t noticed Hasan’s devilishness. “There are only two routes open to you: a shorter one to the west, leading through the untamed Kurdish lands to Byzantium and from there to Egypt, and a longer one to the east. Muzaffar recommends the eastern route. At Merv, or even as soon as Nishapur, Husein Alkeini could join you with his army, and then the two of you could retreat toward Kabul and on to India, where any one of the local princes would be glad to give you asylum.”
“An excellent plan,” Hasan said, encouraged. “But what if my army isn’t able to hold out against the Turkish cavalry?”
“We talked about that possibility too,” the reis said, moving close to Hasan. “If a retreat with your full contingent seems out of the question, then Muzaffar offers you and those closest to you refuge with him. That’s why he sent me here.”
“Muzaffar has a sharp mind and I won’t forget his consideration for me by any means. But he can’t see into my mind or into my heart.”
Hasan’s voice abruptly turned dry and realistic.
“Alamut cannot be taken,” he continued. “So we stay. We’ll wipe out the Turkish cavalry, and by the time the sultan’s army reaches the fortress, we’ll be ready.”
Abu Ali looked at Hasan with shining eyes, eyes full of trust. But Abul Fazel was frightened.
“I’ve always seen you as a deft and capable man, my dear Hasan,” he said. “Lately your reputation has risen so much that you’re talked about throughout all of Iran. And with your intrigues at court you’ve proven that you’re a highly gifted statesman. But what you’re proposing now fills me with real concern and trepidation.”
“My work is only half completed,” Hasan replied. “Until now I’ve trusted to my statesmanship. But now I’m going to see what faith can accomplish.”
He gave that word particular stress. He turned toward the grand dai and spoke.
“Go call the commanders to council. All men should go to battle stations immediately. Tomorrow our novices are going to have to pass a test so they can be sworn in as fedayeen. They need to know everything.
“You will conduct the grand council in my absence. Tell the commanders that we have visitors approaching, and that I have ordained that we will wait for them here. Have each of them share his thoughts. Once you’ve heard them out, come back and report everything to me. Have the captain order his men to make all preparations for the defense of the castle.”
“Everything will be done as you command,” the grand dai said, and hurried out.
The rumble of drums and a blast from the horn called the men to arms and the commanders to assembly. With a serious mien, Abu Ali awaited them in the great hall. The dais and the officers filed in.
When they were assembled, the grand dai looked them over and spoke.
“The sultan has deposed the grand vizier and ordered him to crush the Ismailis. The emir of Hamadan, Arslan Tash, has set out for Alamut with thirty thousand men. A vanguard of Turkish cavalry will reach Rudbar today or tomorrow. Within a few days black flags could be waving outside our castle. The mayor of Rai, Muzaffar, has promised us help. But our own preparedness is an even surer thing. Sayyiduna has sent me to find out how you think we can best resist an attack. Once he hears your recommendations he will take the necessary steps.”
Sitting on their pillows, the commanders exchanged surprised glances with each other. Here and there some of them whispered remarks to their neighbors, but for a long time none of them rose to speak.
“Captain, you’re an experienced soldier,” Abu Ali finally said to Manuchehr. “What do you think is our first priority?”
“We don’t have anything to fear from the Turkish cavalry,” the captain replied. “The fortress is ready for an attack, and anyone who takes it on will be badly burned. But how long we can hold out under siege against thirty thousand men with machines and assault equipment—that’s a difficult question.”
“How long will our food stores last?” the Greek asked.
“A good half year,” the captain replied. “But if we can dispatch a caravan to Rai, then Muzaffar will supply us for another half year.”
“That’s important,” Abu Ali commented, noting something down on his tablet.
Abdul Malik spoke next.
“Here’s what I think,” he said. “We mustn’t let ourselves get locked up in the fortress too soon. We can wallop the Turks on an open battlefield, especially if Muzaffar really does send help. The core of the sultan’s army is still a long way off.”
The young officers who were present enthusiastically supported his plan.
“We mustn’t rush into things,” Abu Soraka commented. “We have to bear in mind that we have our wives and our children with us in the castle. They’d be finished if we were foolhardy enough to risk a battle in the open.”
“Haven’t I always said,” Ibrahim said, losing his temper, “that women and children don’t belong in the fortress with warriors?”
“I’m not the only one who has his family here,” Abu Soraka countered. By this he was referring to Hasan’s two daughters.
Dai Ibrahim angrily compressed his lips.
“I have the perfect suggestion,” al-Hakim said, laughing. “Let’s put our wives and children on the camels and donkeys and send them to Muzaffar. We can use that same caravan to bring needed foodstuffs back to the castle. There you’d accomplish three things at one blow. We’d reduce the number of mouths to feed, we’d rid ourselves of painful concerns for our families, and the caravan wouldn’t make half its trip for no purpose.”