Apotheosis of the Immortal (9 page)

Chapter 17

“Hassan, you know
as well as I do that he must go; he is not an Assassin.” The imam gently squinted his eyes and patted Hassan comfortingly on the shoulder. “He has been here for years and still keeps to himself. He doesn’t sleep; he makes the other men uncomfortable.” The imam turned and faced Hassan squarely. “We don’t even know what he is, for God’s sake.”

“He completes every mission efficiently, does he not?” Hassan jumped to Elijah’s defense.

“Yes.” The feeble imam stared at the ground. “But you know as well as anyone that we live by a code here; we hold certain beliefs and values that he does not. Our missions are a byproduct of our beliefs, that is all.”

“He is a good man; he showed that to me the first day we met. He just needs time to find his way.” Hassan stood up from his seat at the imam’s side and paced the floor.

“He is not one of us, Hassan, and honestly, I am disappointed that you of all people can’t see that.” The imam looked up and watched Hassan as he paced. “Why does this sit so uneasy with you?”

“Because he saved my life, and because he refuses to compromise; he is the most passionately committed man I have ever met. He is searching for something, and when he finds it, he will become something the world has never seen… someone who could end this madness and bring peace, not only to the Holy Land, but to the world.”

“I must warn you Hassan, you flirt with blasphemy; you make him out to be some kind of god.”

Hassan suddenly paused and stared at the imam. “We judge him because he is different, because we don’t understand him. But his bravery, his fearless refusal to follow codes or creeds or anything but his own passions and beliefs, will one day lead him to a freedom like we will never know. If we help him to find it, he will able to make a real difference in this world.” Hassan sat back down and leaned in close to the imam, deciding to try another approach. “Give me more time to work with him, to guide him. He has boundless potential, and we cannot afford to make an enemy of him.”

“Enough! I concede.” The imam threw his hands into the air. “I have a very important mission for you. And although I was hoping your student would be gone by now, I’m sure his particular set of skills will be of use to you. Understand, however, this will be his last chance.”

“I understand,” Hassan smiled.

Chapter 18

“Elijah, the imam
has given us a mission.” Hassan stepped down from the main archway leading into the fortress and onto the sands of the training grounds. The grounds were located on a cliff side that fell more than two thousand meters to the rocks below.

“Us?” Elijah retorted in a sharp tone, his brows bent and his eyes sharply narrowed. “Are you to watch me now?”

“Someone needs to.” Hassan glared at him fiercely.

“Watch yourself, Hassan.” Elijah raised his right arm, pointing at him with his
kopis
.

“Elijah, in all of your years here with us, you have never explained why you are here, why you train so hard, study so endlessly. What you are working towards?” Hassan’s fierce gaze dissipated as he squinted and threw up his hands.

“That is my business.” Elijah lowered his sword and looked at the ground.

“Tell me Elijah, what are you doing here?” Hassan had asked before, but he had never pressed like this. “It is widely known amongst the members of the order that you visit temples of all kinds as you travel. What, or whom, is it that you seek?” Elijah twirled the blade in his hand and then slowly lifted his eyes towards Hassan.

“As I said, that is my business.” He spoke firmly.

“Very well, if you insist.” Hassan ran his fingers through his hair. “Just tell me, then, who is William?” Elijah’s eyes widened; Hassan could see the storm brewing within.

“He is a vampire, a vampire I am going to kill.” Hassan had turned around, but was once again facing Elijah.

“What is so special about this vampire?” He lifted up his head and met Elijah’s cold stare. He held his stare for a moment and then shifted his eyes to the sands below as he considered Elijah’s fate. Elijah didn’t say a word.

“I have taught you all I can, Elijah. You are better now with your sword than anyone else, but I fear I have failed to teach you the most important of lessons. I have failed to help you unlock your truest potential, your greatest strengths.”

Elijah’s jaws clenched; he was tired of Hassan’s rebukes.

He had become the best swordsman in this elite order. Even when he moved slowly, with the speed of a mortal, no one could best him. He had even managed to beat Hassan in this manner the last few times they had trained. He believed that to be the true reason Hassan refused to acknowledge his mastery.

“Elijah, you can practice beneath the sun and the moon, and in the darkness when no light avails itself, but, until you learn to be steadfast and control your emotions, you will never be more than a man swinging a sword.” Hassan turned back towards the stairs.

“What do you mean?” Elijah fumed.

“Elijah, the dirt beneath my feet is not always going to be dry, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to allow my sword to slip from my hands. Similarly, I am not going to act against my nature, against what I know in my heart to be right, merely because my passion throws me in another direction.” He took a step closer.

“Every time you give in to your emotions and go against what you believe, you are doing the worst thing a man can do. You are betraying yourself. You are giving up control of your mind and body. You allow yourself to become merely a reaction, when it is proper to be an action.”

Elijah ground his teeth; he despised speeches. Still, despite the distance that had grown between them, Elijah had great respect for Hassan; he owed him much.

“Elijah, you must stop allowing what happens around you, what happens on the outside, to control who you are on the inside. Rather, be steadfast and allow who you are on the inside to dictate what happens on the outside—your actions.”

Elijah squeezed the back of his neck hard, trying to relieve some of his escalating tension. “I have heard this all before, Hassan, and I don’t need any more of your babbling. You are right; you have taught me all you can. I am the best; there is nothing more for me here.” Elijah began to walk towards the fortress archway.

“Wait, Elijah, please, just let me get this out, and I promise I won’t bother you with it again.” Hassan waited for a moment, gauging Elijah’s receptivity, and when he looked back, Hassan continued.

“When you allow another person’s actions—whether they be in the past, present, or perceived as likely in the future—to cause you to act out of character, then you have allowed that person to control you. Allowing hate to fester inside you is the easiest way to give up control of your actions and of who you are as an individual.” Hassan took a few steps closer.

“You must let go of your hate, it is the only way you will ever reach your full potential, and to do that you must be firmly grounded in hope. Hope will make you resolute; it will allow you to be steadfast and unshakable in your will. A tree with deep enough roots can grow tall in the most miserable of terrains.

“In addition, when you become able to put aside your emotions, to use your intellect to decide what is right for you, and to proceed unwavering towards that end, you will be unstoppable. But remember, you must rely on a foundation of hope, not hate.” After speaking, Hassan waited patiently for a response; he still believed Elijah might come to see the truth of what had raised Hassan from his humble beginnings to the man he was today. He knew that same foundation could ground Elijah, and save him.

After a long moment of silence Elijah began to speak. “And just what do I have to hope for? Death, to end this miserable existence?” Elijah’s stare challenged Hassan to reply.

“Every man can hope for peace, even if you believe peace can only be found in death.” Hassan held Elijah’s stare unflinchingly.

“I appreciate the skills you have taught me, but leave this matter alone. Hate is what sustains me; it drives me on. Everything has been taken from me; hate is all I have left. Hate alone will see me through to my ending, and to William’s. Hate is my strength, my truest ally.” Elijah started again for the archway.

“You are wrong.” Hassan spoke in a low tone.

Elijah stopped and remained frozen for a few moments, trying his best to remain composed in spite of the tension and frustration that threatened to consume him. He took a deep breath and looked up again at Hassan. He made his stare like ice, and Hassan got the point.

“Agreed. I will not speak of this again, but this mission is very important. I will be much more likely to succeed if I have you by my side, but it needs to be handled delicately. Do you understand?” He stared at Elijah, who finally nodded.

“Kayqubad II, the youngest of the three brothers, the three Sultans of Rum, is on his way to Karakorum to meet with the Great Khan. The Sultanate of Rum has resisted ‘requests’ from the Khan for an alliance on numerous occasions. Right now, our spies tell us the young sultan has advised his brothers to meet the Khan’s demands. We cannot allow this alliance to be forged. With the sultanate under his wing, the Great Khan would surely move against us. His forces are vast in number, and with the sultanate’s soldiers at his disposal, the Order of Asasiyun might finally meet its end.”

“You want to kill him?” Elijah interrupted.

“No, no, no, we cannot kill him. That would only push his brothers towards an alliance with the Khan, if only for the sake of seeing our order destroyed.” Hassan’s tone was uncompromising. “Our intelligence tells us he travels with a company of forty soldiers and his slaves. He is traveling along the Silk Road; we should be able to intercept him before he gets to Bukhara.”

“Go it alone, then. You don’t need me.” Elijah interrupted again as he sheathed his sword and stalked past Hassan.

“Yes, I do.” Hassan grabbed Elijah by the shoulder and spun him around. The two men stood face to face. “Hear this; he will be in a tent in the middle of the desert surrounded by more than forty guards and lookouts. It is probable that there will be no cover. I need someone who can get in and out of there fast enough that no one will notice him, or at least no one will be able to catch him. All you need to do is dagger this note to the floor beside his bed.” The note said the same thing as so many others Elijah had delivered, the same as the first note he ever delivered for the order. It was meant to spark paranoia in the target, letting him know the truth, that he could never be safe, never far enough from an assassin’s blade, forcing him into submission.

Chapter 19

E
lijah and Hassan
waited in the desert for the sun to go down. They were just out of sight of the sultan’s lookouts.

“Remember brother, no bloodshed tonight; the very existence of our brotherhood depends on it.” Hassan took the note from a small pouch hanging from his waist and handed it to Elijah.

Brother
. Elijah pondered that for a moment as he looked at the note in his hand and then up again at Hassan.

“Do you understand, Elijah?” Hassan pressed. Elijah closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Hassan’s words had run right through him. He could feel frustration and hate building with the tension in his back and shoulders. He rolled his head backwards trying to relieve it but it had little effect. Elijah was growing very tired of these mortals who gave him instructions as if he were some kind of subordinate.

Brother
. He thought about Hassan’s words once more and then took off towards the tent with blinding speed. He could see well enough in the dark to stay as far as possible from the guards and lookouts stationed around the tent.

Standing in the dark, just fifty paces from the front of the tent, Elijah saw he needed to create a distraction to help him slide by the two men guarding the entrance. He grabbed a small stone from the desert floor and threw it towards the left side of the tent, hoping the guards would investigate, but it failed to get their attention.

When the ruse failed, Elijah’s pulse began to race in anticipation of the coming release. He rushed toward a lookout standing about thirty paces from the front right corner of the tent. He approached from behind and plunged his dagger into the lower right side of the man’s back causing him to cry out in pain, and then sliced through his windpipe so he couldn’t continue.

A bit of tension lifted from Elijah’s shoulders, but only enough to leave him aching for a stronger release. He plunged the blade twice more into the lookout’s side and twisted it, relishing the man’s grunts and moans.

He could hear the other guards calling out; he heard them running towards him. Elijah plunged the blade into his prey’s heart once, twice, three times, but his frustration and tension were now only growing. Killing this man hadn’t provided the release he had expected.

He wanted to continue stabbing, but as the running footsteps grew louder, he realized this was his only chance. He raced around the back of the tent to the front entrance, and slipped in.

To his surprise, the sultan was asleep. Elijah wondered for a moment how a man could sleep through this commotion, but then he noticed the opium pipe next to the bed. A woman sat up in bed beside the sultan and looked straight at Elijah. She didn’t scream; she appeared to be frozen with fear.

Elijah’s tension continued to escalate; he wanted so badly to kill this pathetic worm who called himself a sultan, but he could not allow himself the pleasure. He had orders, and he didn’t want to let Hassan down. Elijah laid the note down on the ground next to the sultan’s bed and raised the dagger to plunge it through. He could hear footsteps and voices now; he needed to hurry.

Elijah paused with his the knife raised and thought once more about Hassan’s words.

Brother
. He thought.
Orders
. He thought. He no longer cared to take orders from mortal men. He would do as he pleased.

A rush of peace and freedom flooded his mind and soul as he rammed the dagger down into the sultan’s gut, and while the sultan’s screams rang out Elijah was awash in a bloody calm. He pulled the blade from the man’s belly and slit his throat wide open.

As guards came rushing into the tent, Elijah spun from his kneeling position and thrust the small
kopis
through the first man’s heart with his right hand. At the same time he pulled his sword loose with his left and swung it at the man coming in behind him, severing his head. He plowed through the rest of the men like a sandstorm.

With each swing of his blades he saw William’s face and his cold, callous eyes at the moment he twisted Malaki’s small neck. Every slice of his sword dulled his pain, his anger and his guilt; with every thrust of his dagger he tried desperately to kill his sensitivity, his memories, his old life, himself.

The only surcease he could find was in the battlefield. He could lose himself in the blood, the killing, and the screams. But when the fighting was over, once all the screams had died down and there was no more blood to shed, everything he had fought to escape came rushing back into his soul—all the pain, all the anger, all the guilt.

Elijah saw Hassan standing a few yards away. He approached him, his body stained red with the blood he had spilled. Hassan’s expression was grim; his eyes wandered. He wouldn’t meet Elijah’s gaze.

“Do you realize what you have done, Elijah?” He rubbed his fingertips hard against his temples.

“I have opened the gates to the temple of Janus; let the war begin.” In that moment, Elijah knew war would be his peace. The battlefield would be his holy of holies, his solace, his only sanctuary.