We were the best of friends and the worst of enemies. We shaped the world we lived in and came to destroy it.One day master Badr al-Jamali called me to his private meeting chamber. As the General Commander of the Fatimid armies and the Grand Vizier to the Caliph, he was ever stationed at the royal palace in Cairo. "John," he said, "I would like you to meet Rafik (comrade) Hasan as-Sabbah. You will be training together at the school from now on."
Since I came to live in that special Ismaili missionary school which master Badr had set up in Cairo, it had been common practice for each student to have a study partner. The idea was that it helped the student work better, study better, and learn from one another's strengths and weaknesses. My last partner was Peter who happened to get killed in Jerusalem because of me. Since I returned back to the school from my long mission in Acre, I had declined to partner with anyone else. I did not want to be constantly reminded of all those mistakes I made. Most of the time I kept to myself. I studied what little there was to study. I trained to keep myself in shape, and I taught my deadly skills to those who needed helping. But I certainly did not make friends. Friends tended to die on my watch so I did not want to leave more corpses behind. The only friends I did have were the girls at Mistress Maria's household. Those I fucked so they did not count.
It had been more than five years since we came back from Acre. I was surprised after all this time master Badr would ask me to team up with anyone let alone a new comer. At twenty three I was too old for a new partner. Besides, I came to think the school had little to teach me anymore. What would I need a partner for? Or so I thought.
"With all due respect Sir, I do not need a partner," I tried to object.
"It's not a request John," Badr said in his soft but commanding voice and I gulped. After all those years and after everything I did for this man, I thought I had some say in how I lived my life. I thought wrong.
"Hasan just arrived from Persia." Master Badr explained. "He comes highly recommended by Chief Daii Abul Malik Ibn Attash of Khorasan and you are going to show him what we do here in the school in Cairo."
Up to that moment Hasan as-Sabbah had not spoken a word. He just stood still looking at me with a blank expression on his face until I thought he was deaf or dumb. As for Master Badr he returned to reading more of his letters leaving me to wonder if there were more ways this man could screw up my life even further.
"Sir, may I ask where is he going to be staying?" and I had to open my big mouth again.
"In your room of course," another blow to my self esteem I wasn't expecting.
"Great. Let's go Sabbah before I get myself into more trouble." I saluted and walked out. We rode back to the school from the Caliph's palace which took less than an hour. Hasan kept his steed close behind without uttering a single word until we finally reached our destination and we headed straight to my quarters.
Mine was a small room with two beds, a small table, two chairs, and two wooden trunks to keep my clothes in. For years I had this room all to myself. Of course no one dared to come into my private space. Even chief Daii (missionary) Mustafa Ibn Qays, the curator of the school, did not deprive me of my privacy. I took out what little I had from one of the trunks and told Hasan which bunk he was to sleep on. "And don't you dare snore," I snapped before flopping on the bed on my corner of the room.
"Do you always argue with the General like that?" Hasan's first words as he was unpacking his things. I thanked god he wasn't a mute although at days I wished he was. That was the first time I really noticed my new room mate. Hasan was a tall slim man, dark faced with a light beard trimmed to perfection. He had short black hair, black eyes that did not say much although I was wrong about that as well. He was a few years older than myself but in much. He spoke Arabic with a tinge of a Persian accent which clearly said a lot about his origins. I studied a little Persian myself a few years back but I was bad at it. I just remembered the curse words.
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Emissary (Book 1)
Historical FictionHe was a slave, a soldier, an assassin of the Caliphate of Egypt. Little did he know that he will be the instigator of the greatest war the world has ever seen. How much do you know about the Crusades? How much do you know about the Assassins? Would...