Casca 13: The Assassin Read Free Page B

presence of his master to do as he was bid. Hassan, too, left the battlements.
    For it was the Time ...
    He went to the entrance. There he made the signs of blessing to the fully-armed and most loyal Fidai who guarded the entrance, and started down the long flight of stairs cut through five-hundred feet of the living rock of the mountain and leading down to its very heart. Only Hassan and the chosen few who were privy to the truth were permitted to enter a chamber there more sacred than the Kaaba or the city of Jerusalem.
    At the bottom of the flight of stairs the door had the emblem of the fish upon it. Hassan knelt and removed his sandals. Reverently he pushed open the door, the only barrier now between him and that which he worshiped most on earth, and entered. Closing the door behind him, he crawled forward on his knees. His figure was lit by the copper glow of lamps burning with the purest of oils, The light guided Hassan into the great hall cut from the rock so that hundreds might gather here inside the bowels of the mountain and worship the "Holy of Holies," the object set in a golden bracket at the end of the hall.
    The spear of Cas ca Longinus, the assassin who had killed Jesus.
    Hassan kissed the stone floor and looked upward at the spear in worship and in awe, memories burning in his brain.
    Long had been the years before he rose to the leadership of the Brotherhood of the Lamb. But now the spear that had slain Jesus was in his trust. The sect of Ismaili Muslims which formed the basis of his power was only a tool to be used and then, if broken, cast away. The Ismailis were exactly what he had needed. Shunned by the dominant Shiite faction, the Ismailis were ill-treated, if not persecuted. Thus they gave Hassan a foundation of thousands of men and women with grievances against the existing power base reigned over by the Seljuk Turks and their lackeys.
    Hassan touched his head to the stone floor, then again raised his eyes in reverence to the spear and prayed for guidance in his Holy Mission, the one Nizam had rejected.
    Chaos.
    They, the Chosen Ones, would create the conditions necessary for the return of the Lord – they would create chaos. Chaos must rule, and Armageddon be at hand. Those Hassan had gathered to him were only a small part of the plan the Brotherhood had to bring chaotic conditions about. It might take centuries, but all over the known world the Faithful waited. Some were men of great power. Others worked the fields,
    A few even wore the robes of the high priests of the Christians or the Imams of Mohammed. But all knew they were chosen above all others on the earth for their sacred task. And if that task was not completed in their lifetimes, then their sacred duties would be passed on to those who came after them, who were equally worthy and would be permitted to enter the sacred order of the Brotherhood of the Lamb. For they all had one thing in common...
    They were patient, for time was their great ally.
    Through the teachings of the founder of their order, Izram, the 13th Disciple, who had witnessed the death of Jesus at the hands of the scar-faced Roman, only they knew the path that Jesus had left for them to follow: Find Casca Longinus, and he would lead them to Jesus on the day of the Lord's Return.
    For Jesus had cursed the Roman to wander the earth until the Second Coming, saying that Longinus would only be granted the peace of death on the day of the Second Coming when they would meet again.
    Hassan continued to gaze at the spear. There had been a time when the Brotherhood had known where Longinus was, perhaps known his every movement.
    But then there had been a time of confusion. And, unfortunately, in Hassan's rise to power there had been certain unavoidable ... ah.... removal of certain personages who might have known of the Roman's whereabouts, so that now the Brotherhood had lost track of him completely.
    Hassan sighed.
    If only I h ad the Roman in my power...
    ___
    "On your feet, you