Yusuf instinctively drew back from him a few inches. He was afraid.
“That pellet of Sayyiduna’s must be to blame,” he said. “He used it to send us to paradise and now we’re constantly tormented by the desire to return.”
“Who wouldn’t give anything to return to paradise once he’s had a taste of it?! O Allah, Allah! Why this endless ordeal?”
Two days passed like this in feverish preparation and ominous silence. The anticipation strained each man’s nerves to the utmost.
From their tower, Hasan and the grand dais observed the enemy’s movements. They could sense they were getting ready for something, but the incline above the canyon blocked their view of whatever it was the enemy was doing. Through Abu Ali, Hasan ordered Obeida to use his scouts to establish contact with the sultan’s army.
Eventually the enemy managed to remove the obstacles from the canyon. From their tower, the three men watched the emir’s men exploring the canyon and studying the surroundings.
Halfa and ibn Vakas were ordered to climb over Alamut’s walls at first light, ford the stream, and then scale the canyon’s cliffs.
Practically the entire garrison of Alamut watched their perilous feat. The old soldiers held their breath as the two fedayeen climbed up the wall opposite. Ibn Vakas was the first to climb. When he reached a secure spot, he dropped a rope and pulled Halfa up. The sun was already high over the mountains as they approached the top. Forked tree trunks jutted out of the earth there. They took hold of them and cautiously climbed the final stretch.
The spectators in Alamut watched them suddenly disappear. The archers drew their bows to defend them should some danger materialize. Agile as monkeys, the climbers descended from one forked trunk to the next. They tied a rope around a mighty trunk and slid down it to the river bed. They forded the stream, and the men pulled them safely up the wall.
“The enemy has scaled the walls around Alamut and set up catapults for throwing rocks and fire!”
This shout immediately spread throughout the castle.
And indeed! The climbers had barely completed their report when a heavy, spherical rock came flying over the stream and crashed into the base of the cliff beneath Alamut. And soon after there came more, raining down at regular intervals in groups of ten or twenty. Their impact with the strata of rock drowned out the roar of Shah Rud. Some of the projectiles struck the fortress walls. The men standing on them felt the earth shake beneath them. Their faces pale, they waited for the enemy to appear.
Suddenly an enormous boulder came rolling down the opposite wall. It collided first with one outcrop of the cliff and then another, caroming between them in huge bounds and finally crashing into Shah Rud, crushing everything in its path. Then came more, each one tied to heavy logs. The river’s current carried some of them away, while those that landed in the river’s shallows remained. There they gradually accumulated and formed a veritable dam, against which the river’s waters foamed and splashed.
Now the men of Alamut began to notice movement on the heights opposite. They could make out men dragging equipment behind them. Manuchehr gave a command, and a swarm of arrows flew toward them, but the distance was too great for them to inflict any serious damage.
A flaming projectile came soaring toward Alamut and slammed into its walls. Others followed. A swarm of arrows poured down on the besieged castle. One of the soldiers was wounded.
Manuchehr went rushing to where the soldier was.
“Idiots! Don’t expose yourselves to them! Take cover!”
He was gasping loudly with excitement and rage.
Though pale, the soldiers grinned at each other. They were helpless against this way of fighting.
“It’s all just a lot of show,” Manuchehr roared. “It’s a bluff and doesn’t pose the slightest danger.”
But the hail of stones and fiery projectiles had an effect on the men. They knew they had nowhere to retreat to from the castle. Each of them would rather have faced off with the enemy in the open.
“If Sayyiduna would just give the word, I’d scale that wall with my fedayeen and cut down everyone up there,” Abdul Malik said, gritting his teeth in helpless rage.
Yusuf and Suleiman also had their fists clenched in anger. They would have been the first to volunteer for a slaughter like that. But apparently Sayyiduna was strolling around on top of his tower, discussing sacred matters with the grand dais. Suleiman could barely control his impatience anymore.
Abu Ali came to review the situation on the walls and then returned to Hasan.
“The men really are a bit upset,” he said, laughing.
“That’s precisely what Arslan Tash was after,” Hasan replied. “He wanted to make an impression on us, soften us up, frighten us. But if he plans to benefit from this mood, he’d better do it fast. Because in two or three days our soldiers will be so used to this hullabaloo that they’ll be throwing lassos at the missiles for fun.”
“So do you think they’re going to try an assault with ladders soon?”
“No, they’re not going to do that. But they might let us know something that’s weighing down on them.”
At the third prayer the emir’s barrage stopped abruptly. An ominous quiet ensued. The sense in the castle was that the morning’s bombardment had been just the prelude to something greater that was yet to come.
The three men atop the tower were the first to notice the three horsemen who came galloping into the canyon. Soon the adversary came to a halt on the far side of the bridge before Alamut and gave the sign of peace.
“This could be some kind of trick,” an officer said to Manuchehr.
“We won’t lower the bridge until we get the order from the supreme commander,” the commander of the fortress replied.
The order soon came. The iron chains clanked and the three emissaries of the enemy army proudly, if cautiously, rode over the bridge into the castle. Manuchehr welcomed them with impeccable courtesy.
In the meantime, at Hasan’s order the entire army, with the exception of a few essential lookouts atop the walls, assembled with lightning speed on the lower and middle terraces. Here the fedayeen and novices stood on one side, the archers on the other, while on the lower level the light and heavy cavalry stood in perfect formation.
Manuchehr and a contingent of officers escorted the emissaries to the middle terrace. There they came to a halt and waited for further instructions.
“This morning they tried to impress us,” Hasan said. “Now it’s my turn to make an impression on them that will last till judgment day.”
Once again his voice and face were projecting something that gave the grand dais an eerie feeling. There was something mysterious to him, as there had been that night when he sent the fedayeen into the gardens.
“Are you planning to cut them down and set their heads out on stakes?” Abu Ali asked.
“I’d have to be very stupid to do anything like that,” Hasan replied. “The emir’s army would be overcome with such a fury that they’d lose any vestige of fear they might have. But it’s that sense of fear that we have to magnify if we’re going to come out of this the victors.”
“The army is assembled and the emissaries are waiting,” Buzurg Ummid said, looking out over the battlements.
“Let them wait. They tried to soften us up with their bombardment, so we’ll soften them up with anticipation.”
The emissary of Arslan Tash, the cavalry captain Abu Jafar, was standing midway between the fedayeen and the archers. He rested one hand lightly on the handle of his saber and looked at the enemy army with feigned indifference and disdain. His two escorts stood tall to each side of him. They held on firmly to the hafts of their sabers, looking fiercely and grimly to all sides. All three of them summoned great self-mastery to subdue their growing impatience and fear for their fate.
Manuchehr and the officers stood some ten paces away from them. He looked provocatively at the emissaries, now and then exchanging a few whispered words with his aid
es-de-camp and stealing glances up in the direction of the supreme command.
But no sign of any decision was coming from there, as though Hasan had forgotten that the whole army and three enemy emissaries were waiting down here for his nod.
The sun bore down mercilessly on the men and the animals. Yet no one showed the least sign of impatience. They watched indifferently as the enemy messengers began to show signs of unease.
Finally Abu Jafar grew tired of the long wait. He turned to Manuchehr and asked him with mock courtesy, “Is it your custom to leave your visitors waiting outside in the baking sun?”
“We have just one custom here, and that’s to obey the orders of our supreme commander.”
“Then I have no choice but to report this delay to His Excellency, my master Arslan Tash, as part of your master’s answer.”
“As your lordship wishes.”
They fell silent again. Furious, Abu Jafar kept looking up at the sky, wiping the sweat from his face. He began to grow uncertain. Why had they put him in the midst of their army? What was this waiting about? What did their supreme commander have in store for him? His imagination got the best of him, and he was again plagued with fear.
Meanwhile, the commanders had put on their ceremonial white robes. They pulled billowing white coats on over their shoulders. They left the building, accompanied by bodyguards.
This would be the first time Hasan had appeared before his believers since he had seized Alamut. He knew what this would mean for them. Despite himself, he was also feeling agitated.
A trumpet announced his approach. All eyes turned toward the upper terrace. Three men appeared there dressed in dazzling white and surrounded by half-naked, black, mace-bearing guards. The men held their breath. One of the three was unfamiliar. They guessed it was Sayyiduna.
Yusuf and Suleiman’s eyes widened.
“Sayyiduna!” they whispered.
The word spread from man to man.
Sayyiduna had appeared! Something extraordinary was going to happen. The unease that had seized the men passed to the animals too. They started and became impatient.
The three emissaries also sensed the unusual tension. When they caught sight of the three commanders in their ceremonial clothing, they instinctively stood at attention. The blood drained from their faces.
Hasan and his entourage reached the edge of the upper level. It was unusually silent. The only sound was the muffled roar of Shah Rud, the perpetual companion of all life at Alamut.
Hasan raised his arm as a sign that he was about to speak. Then, in a clear voice, he asked Abu Jafar, “Who are you, stranger? And what have you come to Alamut for?”
“Sir! I am Captain Abu Jafar, son of Abu Bakr. I come on the orders of my master, His Excellency the emir Arslan Tash, who has been sent by His Majesty, the Glory and Grace of the state, the omnipotent sultan Malik Shah, to wrest back from you the fortress of Alamut, which you seized by dishonest means. His Majesty views you as his subject. He orders you to turn the castle over to his general, the emir Arslan Tash, within three days. My master guarantees safe passage for you and your men … However, if you do not fulfill this order, His Excellency will view you as an enemy of the state. My master will pursue you relentlessly until he utterly destroys you. For the grand vizier himself, His Excellency Nizam al-Mulk, is approaching Alamut with a great army, and he will show no mercy toward the Ismailis. This is what my master has commanded me to tell you.”
At these final threats his voice shook slightly.
Hasan jeered at him. In his response he mocked the other’s solemn delivery.
“Abu Jafar, son of Abu Bakr! Tell your master, His Excellency the emir Arslan Tash, this: Alamut is well prepared to receive him. However, we are in no way his enemies. Still, if he keeps clattering around these parts with his weapons, the same thing could happen to him as happened to the commander of his vanguard. His head will be stuck on a stake and planted on that tower over there.”
Abu Jafar’s face flushed red. He came forward a step and reached for his sword.
“You dare shame my master? Impostor! Egyptian hireling! Do you know there are thirty thousand of us outside this castle?”
The Ismailis who heard this answer started rattling their weapons. A wave of indignation spread through their ranks.
Hasan remained totally cool and asked, “Is it the custom among the sultan’s men to offend foreign leaders?”
“No. Our custom is to take an eye for an eye.”
“You said something about there being thirty thousand men outside the castle. Tell me, have these men come to catch butterflies or to hear the new prophet?”
“If the Ismailis are butterflies, then they’ve come to catch butterflies. If there’s some new prophet close by here, it’s news to me.”
“So you haven’t heard anything about Hasan ibn Sabbah, the master of heaven and earth? Whom Allah has given the power to open the gates of paradise to the living?”
“I’ve heard about some Hasan ibn Sabbah who is an infidel leader. If my senses don’t deceive me, I’m standing in front of him now. But I don’t know anything about his being master of heaven and earth, or about Allah giving him that kind of power.”
Hasan sought out Suleiman and Yusuf with his eyes. He called to them. They left their positions within the ranks and went toward the steps that led to the upper terrace. He asked them, “Can the two of you swear by all the prophets and martyrs that you have been in paradise, alive, whole, and fully conscious?”
“We can, Sayyiduna.”
“Swear it.”
They so swore, clearly and distinctly.
Abu Jafar was tempted to laugh. But such firm faith and sincere conviction showed in their voices that a shiver went down his spine. He looked at his two aides and could tell from their faces they were happy not to be in his shoes. Clearly he had let things take a wrong turn. Now he spoke with much less firmness than before.
“Sir, I haven’t come here to engage in religious disputes with you. I have brought you the order of His Excellency, my master the emir Arslan Tash, and I await your response.”
“Why are you being evasive, friend? Don’t you care whether you’re fighting for a true prophet or not?”
“I’m not fighting for any prophet. I simply serve His Majesty.”
“Those are exactly the words of the men who fought in the service of other rulers against the Prophet. Which is why they met with destruction.”
Abu Jafar stubbornly looked at the ground. He remained silent.
Hasan turned toward Yusuf and Suleiman. They stood as if bolted to the foot of the steps, gazing at him with gleaming eyes. He descended partway down the steps toward them, reached inside his cloak, and pulled out a bracelet.
“Do you recognize this bracelet, Suleiman?”
Suleiman went as white as a sheet. Froth gathered at the corners of his mouth. In a voice quavering with mindless bliss, he murmured, “I do, master.”
“Go and return it to its owner.”
Suleiman’s knees went weak. Hasan reached inside his cloak again. This time he brought forth a pellet, which he handed Suleiman.
“Swallow it,” he ordered.
Then he turned to Yusuf.
“Would you be happy, Yusuf, if I sent you along with Suleiman?”
“Oh … Sayyiduna.”
Yusuf’s eyes shone with happiness. Hasan handed him a pellet too.
The emir’s emissaries watched this scene with growing trepidation. Soon they noticed both youths getting a remote, absent look in their eyes, as though they were looking at a completely foreign world that was invisible to the others.
Abu Jafar asked timidly, “What does all this mean, sir?”
“You’ll see. I’m telling you, open your eyes. Because what is about to happen has never before happened in the history of mankind.”
Then he solemnly straightened up and spoke in a deep voice.
“Yusuf! Zuleika is waiting for you in paradise. Do you see th
at tower? Run to the top of it and jump off. You’ll fall into her embrace.”
Yusuf’s face shone with happiness. From the moment he swallowed the pellet, he was at peace again as he had not been for a long time. A marvelous, blissful peace. Everything was exactly as it had been when he and his two friends had originally set out for paradise. As soon as he registered Hasan’s command, he turned on his heels and raced toward the tower with the dovecotes.
Then, amidst a tomblike silence, Hasan turned to face Suleiman.
“Do you have your dagger with you, Suleiman?”
“Here it is, Sayyiduna.”
The three emissaries instinctively reached for their sabers. But Hasan shook his head and smiled at them.
“Take the bracelet! Thrust the dagger into your heart, and in just a moment you’ll be able to return it to its owner.”
Suleiman clutched with wild joy at the bracelet. He held it to his chest, while with the other hand he plunged the dagger into his heart. Still radiant with happiness, with a sigh of relief he collapsed to the ground at the foot of the steps.
The three emissaries and everyone else who was standing close by froze in horror.
Pale and with a tired smile, Hasan pointed toward the body.
“Go take a close look,” he told the emissaries.
After some hesitation, they obeyed. The dagger was planted up to the hilt in the youth’s body. A thin stream of blood soaked his white clothing. Even in death his face was still radiant with bliss.
Abu Jafar drew his hand across his eyes.
“O all-merciful Allah!” he moaned.
Hasan nodded to a eunuch to spread a coat over the body. Then he turned and pointed toward the tower.
“Look up there!”
Out of breath, Yusuf had just then reached the top of the tower. His heart was pounding in his chest. Dumbfounded, the guards on the tower platform remained motionless. He raced up onto the battlements. Below he saw a sea of palaces, towers and cupolas, all in the most vivid colors.