Assassins of Kantara

by James Boschert

  “Good man. Dar’an?”

  “He is down on the ship, Master Reza,” Yosef responded. “Where are the ladies?” he asked.

  Reza pointed upwards. “We are on our way to find out. Stay here and watch our backs. If there is anyone else, you need to hold them off until we have dealt with those upstairs. Can you do this?” Reza demanded.

  Yosef nodded emphatically and turned away to stand guard, his sword held at the ready. With an approving look Talon and Reza focused on their own objective.

  Both hugged the walls, trying to listen for anything that would indicate where the rest of the assassins might be. Reza pointed up and to the left.

  “Someone is up there,” he whispered.

  Talon nodded. Reza’s hearing was good and he trusted it. He leaned close. “What do you hear?”

  Rav’an woke with an awful pain in her head to find herself lying on the carpet of one of the upstairs rooms. She remembered that she had stood up from the dining carpet downstairs feeling faint and had excused herself. “I... I’m not feeling very well. I think I will go upstairs and rest,” she had said. Jannat had risen to her feet, pressing a hand to her head, and said, “I’ll come with you.”

  They had both climbed the stairs slowly, Rav’an feeling woozy and wondering what had caused it. Jannat had seemed to be in the same condition. They’d reached the entrance to the first room and then must have blacked out.

  Without moving, because her head threatened to fall off should she move too quickly, Rav’an glanced around and saw that she was not alone. Jannat was lying sprawled where she had fallen on her stomach, and there was a man near to the door with a sword in his hand. He was dressed in dark brown flowing robes, his face obscured by a shemagh that concealed all but his dark eyes. She felt a cold chill pass down her neck. Assassins!

  The man was squatting near to the door where he could watch her and at the same time keep a look out for anyone approaching. He carried a long sword and had a dagger hanging off his belt. There was another slimmer version of the first man crouched by the window. His bare feet were not as dark as many Omani, so she guessed that they had come to Muscat from somewhere else. She took a sharp intake of breath; he had to have come from Persia. She reached out to touch Jannat. Her fingers came into contact with her friend’s ankle; it was warm, so she was at least alive.

  Rav’an wondered what might have happened to Talon and Reza. She squeezed her eyes shut at the first thought that came to mind. They were probably dead. These people would not dally with either of them. Too dangerous! A tear trickled down her cheek as she contemplated the worst. Her brother had finally succeeded, curse him. She hoped death had been quick. It most certainly would not be for her, nor Jannat—and then panic struck. Where was Rostam? The servants, their retainers, Yosef and Dar’an? These murderous messengers from her brother would show them scant mercy, she was sure of that.

  Jannat stirred and began to push herself up from the floor. She shook her head, causing her luxurious hair to flow around her face. The guard by the doorway, alerted to her movements, stared at her, and even under his face covering Rav’an detected the gleam of lust as he watched the slim girl sit up and look around.

  “Come over here, my Sister,” Rav’an murmured.

  Jannat stared at her, then complied. “What happened, Rav’an?” she asked in a frightened tone as she settled near. She had just noticed the squatting guard. “Who is he, and what is he doing here?” Jannat’s eyes were wide with fear and her lower lip was quivering.

  “Do not fear, my Sister. It will be all right,” Rav’an whispered, although she was far from confident. She needed Jannat to be strong, not demoralized and utterly without hope.

  Just then there were footsteps outside and another taller man, also barefoot and with his face covered, padded into the room. He held a sword in his right hand that was bloody, and there were darker stains on his dark brown robe.

  “Ah, it seems that you are awake,” he commented in Farsi.

  “Who are you, and what do you want?” Rav’an managed to say, although she knew very well; her mouth was very dry and her head still pounded.

  “I am here to take you back to your brother, The Master,” the sinister-looking man said.

  “What have you done with Talon and Reza?” she demanded. He knew who they were, so there was no point in pretense.

  “They are prisoners. They succumbed to the same drug that struck you, my Lady,” the man said with a smirk, and then nodded knowingly at her relieved expression.

  “Oh yes, they are live, and they come with us. The Master intends to make a very public example of them both. They are traitors and heretics. You he will deal with privately, but you will not leave Alamut alive either.”

  “How do you propose to take us all that distance as prisoners? Aren’t you afraid we might escape... or kill you along the way?” Rav’an asked him. Her heart was beating furiously, but she was utterly determined that he should kill her here. The prospect of how they would all be executed in Alamut didn’t bear thinking about. If only she could provoke these monsters to kill them quickly! Their heads would make the journey, but they wouldn’t care.

  “Who are you? What do you want, you pigs!” Jannat cried out before Rav’an could stop her. Her anger at their circumstances was overcoming her fear.

  The man took two strides across the room, leaned down and struck Jannat across the face. “Be quiet! Your friend here can tell you, if you live long enough. You do not matter. My men will have you before we are done!” the stranger snapped as he stared down at the crouching Jannat, her hand pressed to her inflamed cheek where he had struck her.

  “Leave her be, dog! She has done you no harm!” Rav’an shouted.

  “Nor will she. Tell her to keep silent or I shall beat her to within an inch of her life, and the same applies to you. The Master didn’t seem to be very concerned about what condition you were in when we got back,” the man snarled. “We will take you to Qual’a Bozi, where I shall have many more men to guard you. Not even the traitor Reza will be a match for them.” He paused, listening.

  “Men’s voices, and yes the wo—” Reza didn’t finish. There was a loud slap and a cry of pain from somewhere upstairs. Talon and Reza froze. It had come from Jannat. Then Rav’an shouted something. Up until now the expression on Reza’s face had been tight as he concentrated on their mission; now it became suffused with rage. Talon quickly put his finger to his lips and shook his head as he held his brother’s eyes. Reza took a deep breath and clamped his lips shut in a thin line, but there was now murder in his eyes.

  Sliding through the kitchen, they came across the dead servants, one of whom had been the new assistant cook. He too was dead, which told Talon just how ruthless these men were. There were to be no witnesses, nor tales told in the bazaar after the event. He wondered how many men they were up against. He heard voices, and froze.

  “Those men are taking a long time to bring up the prisoners. I can’t believe how easy it was to take them down! So much for the lies and legends about Reza and Talon.” The speaker laughed.

  A woman’s voice interrupted. “They will still stop you, dog! If they don’t, I shall. You will never be able to sleep all the way back to Alamut. I shall see to that!”

  “Have your say now, my lady,” the man sneered. “But remember, when you get back an example will be made of you. Your brother made that quite clear.”

  There was silence, except for a sob from Jannat. Then the man said to another, “Mihub, I am tired of waiting. Go and hurry them along. I don’t want to be here if some visitor happens by.”

  There was a shuffle, then a youth appeared at the top of the stairs. He scurried down and into the corridor where Talon and Reza were hiding. He noticed them too late to do more than emit a short strangled cry before Reza ran him through and Talon cut his throat for good measure. They let his twitching body down slowly to the floor, where it bled profusely, and they again listened, straining their ears for the slightest cl
ue. There was silence above them. Talon pointed to one of the rooms across the hallway. Their bows were stored there, along with other weapons. He flitted silently across the space at the base of the stairs, watching he balcony for any movement.

  He managed to retrieve their bows and their two Japanese swords. Returning to the hallway, he tossed one of the swords over to Reza, then his bow, and finally a quiver of arrows. Talon started to move to join Reza, then froze. The silence above them was ominous. Something was wrong.

  Then someone spoke from above. “I see that you are better at escaping than I had imagined.”

  Talon looked across at Reza, then responded. “Your sleeping drug didn’t last long enough.”

  “What have you done to my men?”

  ‘They are all dead.”

  “Ah, but I have your women up here with us.”

  “We know that. Leave them unharmed and we will spare your life. You have my word.”

  “I cannot leave without the Master’s sister.”

  “Yes you can, because if you harm a hair on her head I shall dismember you finger by finger. It won’t be fun for you,” Reza threatened. He swiftly drew and knocked an arrow, aiming it up the flight of stairs. Talon did the same.

  “I am going to come out, and I am taking her with me. The other woman is of no importance to me, but she comes too. We shall keep her hostage upon your letting us go.”

  There was a scuffle, a slap and a low cry from the room, and Rav’an was pushed into view by a tall man covered from head to foot in dark clothing. He had a knife to her throat and clutched her to his chest, effectively hiding behind her. Another man shoved Jannat forward but he was not as careful; all the same he attempted to use her as a shield.

  Both women looked rumpled and shaken, but Rav’an was not cowed. She regarded the two men below with wide, aware eyes. Her eyes told Talon of her relief, then flicked to the side, and he knew what she meant.

  He tried one more time. “We have killed all your companions; not one is left alive. You will be next unless you let the women go.”

  “You know full well what will happen to me should I not bring her back to the Master!” the man responded with a jerk of his prisoner. Rav’an winced as the blade was pushed hard against the skin of her neck.

  “Your head will be in a sack that goes to the Master! That’s the only way you are going back there,” Reza ground out between his teeth.

  Rav’an blinked in an exaggerated manner, staring straight at Talon. He tightened his bow, biding his time and watching. Then Rav’an screamed, her left hand sped up to come between her captor’s hand and her neck while her right fist swung down hard and backwards, at the same time she went limp in the man’s arms, just as she had been taught by Talon. Surprised, off guard, and in pain from the blow to his groin, the man gasped and tried to grab for her as she dropped away, but too late; he was left with her flimsy shawl while she went down far enough to expose his upper body to the waiting archers.

  Talon’s bowstring twanged and the arrow flew the short distance to embed itself in the throat of the assassin, who clutched at it and then fell choking to die on the floor. But the other assassin, sensing rather than seeing what had happened to his companion, raised his knife to plunge it into Jannat. Reza shot him in the arm and yelled.

  “Drop, Jannat! Drop!” She promptly went limp and fell away from the man, who howled with pain from the wound. But he was a Fid’ai and as quick as a whip. He dived out of sight back into the room and vanished.

  Talon and Reza sped up the stairs like angry cats to reach Rav’an and Jannat, who fell into their arms, shaking with relief.

  “We must stop him, Reza,” Talon growled, as he held Rav’an briefly.

  Reza nodded. Yosef, who had bounded up the stairs behind them, began to guide the weeping Jannat back down to the ground floor. Rav’an was grim and determined not to succumb to tears.

  Cautiously the two men on the landing peered into the room, then relaxed. The open window told them what they needed to know.

  “I know where he might have gone,” Reza said. He was coldly furious.

  “Then we must hurry,” Talon responded, then he remembered Rostam.

  “Where is Rostam?” he almost shouted.

  “I’m here, Papa!” Rostam called from downstairs, looking up at the adults with tear-filled eyes. “Yosef made me hide from the men in the storeroom. I didn’t know what else to do.” He was weeping with relief, but also because he had been scared.

  “Go to him, my Warrior,” Rav’an told him. Talon let Rav’an go and ran down to embrace him. “Yosef did the right thing, Rostam. They would have surely killed you had you not. Thank God you are alive. Remember, there is a time to fight and a time to hide. You both made the right decision,” he repeated, looking into the boy’s eyes as he spoke.

  “Where is Dar’an?” Rav’an called in alarm. They weren’t at dinner with us, so where?”

  “I know they were going out to the tea house in the bazaar,” Jannat said through her tears. Her voice was muffled in Reza’s shoulder. “But after that I don’t know.”

  “He is safe,” Reza assured her. “Dar’an went to the ship on some business or other.”

  “They would have killed them when they came back. Neither would have been a match for these people,” Talon said, as he tore the face covering off the dead man.

  “Do you recognize this man, Reza?”

  “Yes, that one I do remember. He is one of the better men who serve the Master. His name is Naudar.”

  “Now we must go,” said Talon. “Come, Reza, we will finish this off today.”

  The two men sped out of the compound, past the dead guards and onto the street. It was as though they were back in some normal world as they joined the throngs of traders, laborers, veiled women, and slaves on their errands. No one knew what kind of slaughter had taken place within the sanctuary.

  Reza led the way at a trot. People gave way as they noticed the two intent looking warriors with their bows at the ready trotting purposefully along the street.

  Soon they were moving past the tea house that Reza had frequented and were running onwards to the deeper, narrower streets of the bazaar where they hoped their quarry would have gone to ground. He would have to have his wound tended to before he left Muscat. They had no choice but to track him down.

  Reza held up his hand as they came within sight of a doorway. “The last time I saw those two men, they were entering that low door down there.” He pointed out a flat-roofed building to Talon, who crouched just behind him.

  “You can bet that there is a back way out. We need to find it and block it off,” he said.

  “There will be just him,” Reza said with some certainty.

  “You’re sure?”

  They threw all they had into our capture. I doubt if there is anyone there but him, if indeed he is there.”

  “We need to find out. I shall go around the streets until I find a back alley; there must be something like that. I’ll whistle when I get there, and then you can take the front.”

  “Good. I want his head.”

  “Be angry, but be cool, my Brother. Hot anger only gets one into trouble.”

  Reza nodded. “I will be fine, Brother. Go now.”

  Talon hastened to find a street that was parallel to the one they had been on. It was difficult. The very narrow streets of the bazaar wound in all directions except the one he wanted. Houses were so close together that the second floors almost touched, casting dense shadows that he approached warily.

  Finally he figured that he might be in the right place and took careful stock of the alley and the wall where he thought the lair of the assassins might be. The street was deserted at this time, so ignoring the sun-dried wooden doorway he cautiously climbed the rough mud brickwork to peer over the wall. In front of him was a tiny yard in which was a large jar of water, some trash, and a cat sleeping on a ledge just by another door, which led into the flat-roofed building.

  Ta
lon thought about the options the assassin might have. He could either come out of the door in which case Talon had him, or he could take the flat roof and escape that way. There were plenty of avenues open to him if he decided upon that option. The door was shut and there were no windows, so Talon decided to climb the wall and place himself where he could see if his quarry decided upon the roof.

  He whistled.

  Reza had already gained entrance. The door had not been locked but led into another small courtyard which led off to three mud houses, all small but all connected at their walls. He had no idea which house to begin with, but a young boy was standing at the entrance to one of them.

  Putting on a smile, Reza said to the shy child, “Salaam, boy. Have you seen anyone come through here last few minutes?”

  All the boy did was to point. Reza nodded his thanks and glided towards the dried up doorway of the house most to his right. The planks were separated with age, but it was dark inside so he couldn’t see anything.

  He gently tried the door, but it was shut and fastened on the inside. Silently he took out his knife blade and slipped it into the crack to where he thought the latch might be. He pushed up very carefully. He heard a slight noise inside. Throwing caution to the wind he shoved the blade up and the latch lifted. With a thrust of his shoulder Reza slammed the door open and dived into the gloom ahead of him, stepping sideways as he did so. There was a flicker of movement ahead of him and a knife hammered into the mud wall where he had just been, then fell to the floor with a clatter, which was followed by a muttered curse.

  A figure disappeared around a corner. Diving forward with his sword drawn, Reza followed. He saw the legs of the man pounding up the short steps towards the roof, a door crashed open, and he heard the sound of running feet on the roof above him. Reza also heard a whistle and knew that Talon had seen his quarry. Holding his sword ahead of him Reza bounded up the stairs and at the entrance rolled out onto the roof. A large stone flew past his head as he regained his feet and turned to find his assailant skipping over the parapet of the house towards the next roof.