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Yes, master, said Kelb swiftly. They are being told of another raid such
as the one on the caravan. Their Grandmaster is telling them.
Hmm, said Jim.
He turned to Hob.
But how did you two get here from the caravan. Hob?
Oh, I carried him here along with me on the smoke, said Hob anxiously. Did
I do wrong, too, m lord? I didn t know what I could do to help; but I thought
if I got here, maybe you d have an idea you could tell me and then I could do
it; and I would be helpful.
They will not need you, said Kelb to him. He turned back to Jim and Brian.
Oh, masters, fear not. If for some reason you cannot yourself free yourselves
from this place, I will free you and set you once more on your path for
Palmyra and the one you seek there.
What do you know about us seeking someone in Palmyra? demanded Jim.
But at that moment there were voices to be heard at the top of the stairs
that led down to this cell block. Hob scrambled along the bars to a dark
corner where his gray body was all but lost in shadow; and Kelb literally
vanished.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The voices came closer. They descended the stairs and four of their captors
came in, together with the one who had been in charge of those who had
kidnapped Jim and Brian.
Without a word, they unlocked the cell door, motioned Jim and Brian out and
pushed them ahead up the stairs. They went through several long corridors into
a large, square room with a domed roof in which windows with glass in them had
been built, so that daylight filled the room with afternoon light. At the far
end of the room a man sat upon cushions, and continued to sit motionless as
Jim and Brian were brought before him. Then he lifted one hand; and the
leader, as well as the four with him, left.
Brian and Jim were left standing before the seated man.
He was a man of indeterminate age, but Jim guessed him in his late forties or
even fifties. He was possibly slightly overweight, but that could be simply
because of his position, seated cross-legged on the green cushions beneath
him. He was wearing a dark green robe of almost the same shade as the cushion
he sat on. He had a hat on his head that was rather like a beret that had been
puffed out, and was white in color. His eyes were dark, his eyebrows graying
and his face clean-shaven. It was a benign face, a calm face, an almost
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gentle, fatherly face, except for a rather round, aggressive chin and a firmly
closed, straight mouth above it that lent a touch of sternness to his
expression, at odds with the calm, unwrinkled appearance of the rest of his
features.
So, he said, you find yourself brought before me.
And who the hell are you? snapped Brian.
The man moved his eyes slowly to focus on Brian.
When he spoke again the tone of his voice was exactly the same.
Know, he said, I am Hasan ad-Dimri, who left my father s home early to
travel from town to town, with others like myself. After some years, people
would give me gifts, and bowed before me to hear words of wisdom from my lips.
But in the night, one night, a blessed angel came and spoke in my ear, saying
thus- Oh, thou who are by rights ruler of all the world, the time of the
return of Isma il is at hand. But the way must be prepared for him. Therefore
go thou and take control of the Hashasheen of the White Palace, in the
mountains; revive their lost glory, and set them to the work of cleaning out
the foul weeds from among the faithful and unfaithful alike; so that when
lsma il does come, he shall come to an earth cleansed and kept as is a
well-kept garden.
His gaze came back to Jim.
You are both nasranies, he said, and claim to be in search of another
nasraney. As such, you are a stench in the nostrils of true believers. But
you, who call yourself James, are worse than the one with you or the one you
seek, because you are also a nasraney magician. I am in the shadow and
protection of Allah s hand, and your magics will not work against me. I fear
you not. But there are, even among the faithful, those who may be weak or
erring in their worship of Allah; and upon those, your foul spells may have
some effect, turning them from the true faith and dooming them to everlasting
death. Therefore, it is my duty to see that you do no such thing. My children,
the Hashasheen that you call Assassins, will guide and guard your friend on
his way to his destination. But you, at least, must be put to death here, by
men who are of true faith and will be untouched by any infidel magic you may
bring against them-
He stopped speaking abruptly, on a note that sounded as if he had more to
say. His gaze went between and beyond Jim and Brian.
They turned to see what he was looking at; and there, standing just a little
behind them, upright in his red robe, was abu al-Qusayr.
Salaam, said abu al-Qusayr to Hasan ad-Dimri.
Salaam aleikum.
Jim, his brain still reeling from the thought that he suddenly might be
inches from an inescapable death, realized that for once his translator was
not translating; but that thought was washed out by a powerful feeling of
relief. Help had come without his needing to use magic.
It was true that the two words he had just heard were some of the very few he
recognized in Arabic-ordinary words of greeting. But now abu al-Qusayr was
continuing to speak in the perfectly understandable words of the language
everyone spoke here.
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Allah has made it so, said abu al-Qusayr, that those who are true to the
faith may only be vulnerable to those who are also of the true faith-whatever
that faith may be. Therefore I, who am a Muslim and whose faith is pure, have
been sent as a representative from the Kingdom of Magickians to speak for this
nasraney whose life you would end.
I fear no magicians- began Hasan ad-Dimri; but suddenly he was speaking
Arabic again, and abu al-Qusayr was answering him in the same language. Jim s
mind, sharpened by the threat of Hasan, fumbled for the reason his translator
was once more not translating. Their talk concerned him and Brian, because he
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