The Ophir (3 page)

“You would have been proud of her Joseph. She
fought. She fought for herself and her unborn child.” Akim coughed.
A bit of blood ran from the corner of her mouth. Joseph pressed
cloths against her wound. The angle of the long dagger as it went
in, penetrated her stomach and pierced her liver. When she fell
forward the hilt of the dagger moved sideways. It caused the razor
sharp blade to sever the stomach.

“His name, Akim. What was his name?” Joseph’s
mind reeled.
Child? I lost both my beloved wife and unborn child
in this reprehensible act?

“It was Kadar Nazim.” She had whispered his
name. Joseph was astonished.

“Nazim? Impossible!” That a man claiming to
be a prophet of God should commit such a crime was beyond any
atrocity he had ever witnessed in campaigns taken into foreign
lands. He knew that common soldiers sometimes took women in such a
way but never under his command.

It was well known that Nazim closed his eyes
to such acts committed by his faithful brethren. It was whispered
that even the great Mohammed took females into his bed that were
less than the age of marriage. So, perhaps it wasn’t so far-fetched
that one below the great Mohammed would fall from grace in this
manner. Throughout history, religious sects had taken liberties in
the name of God. They were, after all, mortal and weak. Joseph
could find no way to excuse or forgive such a personal attack.

“Are you sure, Akim?” Joseph lifted his head
to look into her eyes for the truth. It was too late. Akim’s eyes
were clouded in death.

Joseph railed at the universe.
“
Crucifixion will not be an honor for this mortal man, nor will
he die in glorious battle. He will die like the common dog that he
is. If he is still granted entrance into Paradise with its rivers
of wine, honey and opulent glories ... there is no god.”
I
heard his words as I waited outside the door. Whatever his final
decision might be, I knew murder was in his heart. As his
manservant, I would also be involved. I hurried to the stables to
ready his steed.

* * * *

As attendant to the captain, my quarters were
in the stable with his horse and other livestock. My duties, when
at home, were to care for the animals and always be prepared to
ride without notice. Although ready, having seen no messenger enter
or leave the premises, I was startled when he came in barking
orders to prepare for a pilgrimage to the tents of Nazim, outside
of Mecca. I knew not to question his motives; his hasty decision
could be related to nothing other than his wife’s death.

I had learned greater detail of the tragedy
from the women who were dismissed earlier that day, but not of
Nazim’s involvement. I must admit I was fearful of the master’s
plan to murder Nazim. I was so fearful that I had begun prayers of
deliverance as soon as the name Nazim issued from Akim’s mouth.

Chapter
Three

Sabah, Nazim’s second in command, demanded
that initiates be trained through his Nine Degrees in the mountain
garden of Alamut. Conditioned to believe in Divine Missions,
initiates were expected to exhibit absolute faith and obedience. It
called for a high degree of fanaticism.

“Allah and I, as his main disciple, demand
complete obedience. To falter in a mission could mean failure to
please us. Failure to please could mean your death. It would mean
denial into paradise and all the pleasures given there. You would
be banned from membership here and paradise forever.” The process
was a psychological death of old ways, which gave birth to beliefs
created by men that instilled key phrases to trigger deadly
behaviors. It was mind control at its best.

In the First Degree, the students were thrown
into a state of confusion with all conventional ideas, religion and
politics challenged. Once initiates started questioning their own
beliefs, they started depending on their teachers for “truth”.

Second Degree students would be taught that
approval by God could only be given by their Imam. They had to
reach a point of blind allegiance to their teachers if they wished
to be enlightened.

They are detached from the Sect of Twelve in
the Third Degree, taught to disregard the last six imams and
believed to be non-persons.

In the Fourth Degree, the neophyte was
indoctrinated to the Seven Prophetic Periods. This would introduce
the end of the ‘Science of the Ancients; and begin the ‘Science of
Allegorical Interpretation’.

The learner was immersed in the practice of
prejudice and discrimination in the Fifth Degree, taught the
significance of the number Twelve and the ‘proofs’ manifested in
the twelve dorsal vertebrae of the human spine. They were also
taught that the seven cervical vertebrates represented the Seven
Prophets and the Seven Imams of each prophet.

The Sixth Degree taught them that prayer,
alms, pilgrimage, fasting and so forth could be abandoned without
fear.

The Seventh Degree destroyed the belief in
the Doctrine of the Divine Unity.

The Eighth Degree was the application of the
Seventh Degree. He was taught, among other things, that the end of
the world is allegorical.

In the Ninth Degree, all dogma was erased and
the neophyte was given the freedom and right to create his own
reality based in limited beliefs instilled by the Inman, justifying
any method used to achieve an assigned mission.

When the power of control was lost to the
commander-in-chief of the army, the caliphs became simple
figureheads of government. Dissenting groups such as those of the
Ninth Degree, became known as Assassins or ‘guardians of the
secrets’. Nazim was the father.

From the Nizari Isma’ili sect would be born
the Islem Shi-ites, Bohras of Afghanistan, the Khojas of Pakistan,
and more indirectly, Hospitallers: the Society of Jesus, the
Dominicans and even the gentle Franciscans could be traced back to
Cairo or Alamut. The Knights Templar, the original society of
assassins for the Vatican, was related in system and hierarchy.

All cults considered heretical were known to
be political in nature. After reaching notoriety, or accumulating
great wealth and power, they were feared. With fear, they became
contemptible and were just as apt to be persecuted as those they
were known to persecute. Nazim and Sabah were now among them.

Sabah was younger and more ambitious than
Nazim believed. He had learned everything he could from his old
friend and was now prepared to put many years of preparation into
taking the reign of power into his own hands.

Sabah leaned in closer and spoke softly to
his second in command.

“I have an eye in Nazim’s camp. His ego has
grown beyond his abilities to reason. He is becoming a danger to us
all.”

“An eye? Who? How do you know you can trust
them?”

“Because I trained her. She is convinced that
he is at fault for her husband’s death. Nazim wanted a clear path
to her. She was more valuable to him if she came to him freely. The
hunter was hunted and snared by a woman. She is a trained
Hashashshin.”

Sabah continued, “After the death of
Kahdeeja, Sabr accepted Nazim’s proposal of protection through
marriage. She too financed many of his ambitions to build his
trust. She convinced Nazim that he was in control of the
relationship. Now, she waits for the time to be right. At a signal
from me she will end him.” Sabah’s eyes were cold and calculating.
They carried a warning.

“You understand, you can tell no one of this.
Once he is gone, you and I will reign supreme the Hashshashin. We
will take it back to its original glory with guidance from the
Torah.”

Strange events would create a connection
between the Old Man of the Mountain, the Templars, saviors of the
Catholic antiquities, and Joseph Ben Abin, known as ‘The One’. The
connection would not be recognized for centuries.

Ancient Daylam, a mountain kingdom, gave
birth to one of the most revered sects known to man. It was based
on penetralia and collusion. Shi-ite sects, which included Moslem
heretics, Catholic assassins, and knighted nobles, came from the
same womb. The upbringing differed, but many of the methods for
attaining goals were the same.

The doctrines of both Templars and Shi-ites
were kept secret, and maintained by members of their respective
organizations. The world was destined to stay ignorant of the
extent of their true power and reach.

Tenacity and determination of these trained
assassins gave my master, Joseph Ben Abin, no quarter. More than
one of his adherents caught asleep, so to speak, had lost their
heads—literally. Their network was so widespread that no place was
safe for The One or his tribesmen.

* * * *

Joseph Ben Abin knew the roads leading in and
out of all parts of his country to the remotest distances. It was a
knowledge he would call on as he eluded those that pursued him
after his attempt on Nazim’s life. He missed the home he had left
behind to avenge his wife’s death. Until his followers grew in
number, he spoke only to me, Ahkmed, the manservant entrusted with
his existence.

* * * *

“Ahkmed, did I ever tell you how I met
Akilah?” His voice was low and filled with sorrow.

“No, Master.” It wasn’t true though. My
master had told me the story many times. It was almost as though he
was afraid that if he forgot, she would stop existence.

“Even at the age of six, you could see she
was a beauty. Not just a beauty, mind you, but a beauty with
intelligence and fire in her eyes.”

Feeding him lines, I answered, “She had
beautiful and wise eyes, eyes that could penetrate your soul with
their depth.”

“And heart, Ahkmed. She had a heart that
accepted everyone. Trusted everyone. Have you any idea how it must
have pained her to learn that not all people are worthy of trust
and love?”

“It must have been a great disappointment to
her to learn that such a revered man as Nazim was of such low
morals. She was always kind and solicitous to me, and for that, I
will always remember her.”

“Was I wrong? Was I wrong to attack a man
with a reputation like his?”

“Which reputation do you speak of? He had
two. One we spoke of freely. The other we spoke of in whispers. You
and I know which man was at fault, Master. It wasn’t you.”

Joseph’s Nubian wife, Akilah, was an
intelligent woman with compassion for those less fortunate. He’d
taken her at the age of six from an impoverished family outside
Mecca. As was the habit of the day, he gave her shelter in the home
of his female slave, where she was treated with kindness, and came
to love both the slave and the captain as much as they loved her.
The captain married Akilah when she was 12 years old. He was 28.
The marriage was not consummated until she was 15 years of age. Old
by the day’s standard.

She was respected within her community and
often called upon by the married woman for advice on birth control
or fertility. When birthing time came, she assisted in the process
using methods taught to her by her husband’s slave, Akim. The
knowledge had been both her salvation and her undoing.

Chapter
Four

Hunted almost to extinction in his country,
my master decided to find a greater refuge. Arabia had become a
dangerous place. The Van Helsings’ of the world were nothing when
compared to assassins such as The Old Man of the Mountain and his
disciples.

When the Old Man wished to kill, or have
someone killed, he would tell his disciples he wanted them to do
this so they may return to paradise.

Paradise to them was a garden filled with
beauty in the form of whores. Upon their return they would be
granted many whores, drink from rivers of honey, be waited upon by
hundreds of servants and be granted any wish they could imagine.
Death to them was nothing to fear, and everything to look forward
to.

Joseph’s fear of that one sect was greater
than a possible death at sea.

* * * *

Joseph, known now as The One, found himself
drawn to other parts of the world after eating a particularly
decadent young Englishman.

The attractive young man was a missionary
gone to Arabia to save the heathens, or so he’d convinced his
parents. However, the temptations of the flesh were his undoing,
and he found himself living in areas known by the locals as
“Hellsborough”. It was there that he would meet his fate, and be
fed upon by my master. His dried husk of a body would draw no more
attention than a missing cat.

My master waited in the shadows of the narrow
street as the quarry neared. He waited for the last moment to
“accidently” step out from the shadows and into the path of his
victim.

“Oh, pardon me, sir.” The One apologized for
the slight collision.

“No offense taken. It was just as much my
fault. It was a startle though, I must admit. Well, I must be off.
Good evening to you.”

“Wait. I don’t know if I am more surprised by
the contact or the fact that you speak English. Forgive me for
being so bold, but are you a native?”

“No, hardly. I am from England. Area of
Brighton. And you? I detect an accent. Are you native?”

“Why, yes I am. Is it difficult to understand
my speech?”

“No. Actually, your speech is quite good, old
boy.”

“I realize we are complete strangers, but
would you consider joining me for a bit of libation? It would give
me great pleasure to be able to practice my English for a
while.”

“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m John
Jackson. May I ask your name?”

“My name is Joseph Maximus. But you can call
me Joe.”

“Joe, it’s rather late. Why don’t you join me
in my apartments for a drink and a small bite to eat? It isn’t far
and we’ll probably be much more comfortable there.”