Sabiha

An assassin is sent by the Holy Caliphate to assassinate a dissident and loud mmarifa, a scholar trained in the holy magic.

Sabiha was trained for those missions. The organisation was clear: the target was spreading his dangerous dissident ideas, thus the Caliphate needed to eliminate him. And makes it an example for anyone challenging Their Holy Authority. She did not know exactly what was the problem created by this talkative mmarifa, but that was making the scholar's assassination easier. Sometimes, the victim was a good talker, and she could see why the Caliphate wanted them eliminated. But some ideas were simply not acceptable and were challenging the social peace and flourishing economy of the Caliphate. The Caliphate before all, guided by the word of Allah. It is all a matter of bargain and sacrifice.

 

She is walking along the wall of her madarasa, where she has almost completed her assassin training. On top of studying the Holy Qur’an, she has received an extensive training in botanic, mineralogy and biology. She knows how to craft deadly poisons out of many seemingly innocent elements. She has also studied different languages thus making her a valuable infiltration tool. Last but not least, her petite figure hidden under larges deiras and scarves are enough for her to look inconspicuous in an instant.

 

She chooses her clothes carefully. She is to go at the Great Library, where most of the world's knowledge is contained, analysed and compared with the Holy Qur’an. A frontal entrance would mean that she will have to locate her target in the reading room and approach him enough to probably poison him discreetly. Or she could try a more acrobatic approach, to go through the roof, locate the target's study, and wait for him there. After much pondering, she opted for latter. Poisons can be sometimes difficult to control in public places, too many parameters to consider.

 

She selects a dark green-brown outfit similar enough to the city's roofs to hide her. She takes a hand catapult, and fives Plain Tribe Finger's knives. Those are her new favourites: Sharp, accurate and light. A perfect fit for her quick evading fighting style. She grabs several poisons doses, thinking that she should coax her weapons with later. She verifies one last time that her protective henna is still intact around her face. You never know what happen when a mmarifa is cornered. She is convinced that he will not be a shivering and feeble one. Since he dares oppose the Caliphate, he might be a strong-minded opponent. And strong magic always requires strong mind. She puts on her mask; her headscarf neatly tides up and ready to serve as an extra weapon: she has packed little capsules of poison there too that could break on impact. She might need to seduce him before approaching him. And seducing a Mmarifa was one of the most boring, yet easiest thing in the world.

 

She exits her quarters from the roof. The golden sun announces the end of the day. The mmarifa will be dead before Maghrib, the fourth daily prayer. She starts running from roof to roof, jumping and rolling over. Many people decorate their walls with fancy gutters, making it rather easy for one with a bit of skills to cross the city undetected. Moreover, the closer one gets to the centre, the taller the buildings. And the Great Library is, just after the Great Mosque, rather grandiose. Each wall is covered with intricate and colourful geometric patterns, celebrating the advancement of the Ocean Tribe in mathematics and science. Allah had granted them with the sharpest minds of all, and Ocean Tribes were overall rather confident in their intellectual superiority. Such statement was painfully made obvious when confronted to one of their astonishing building, true feat in regards of architectural perfection.

 

Sabiha has arrived on the library highest point. The minaret is on her left side, and right below her is a balcony. According to her orders, her target's study is nearby. She leaps down silently. Someone is still studying there, and she cannot assassinate anyone else but her target. She heads to the nearest balcony hoping to find an empty room. She jumps sideways and reaches a room void of anything. She immediately goes lock the door, and prepare her assassination plan.

Her target is named Abdallah ibn Abdelkader ibn Aboubakar Al Muamudi. She winces. Aboubakar Al Muamudi is a member of the Royal Family, and anyone from his family usually is a high-profile person. Targeting his grandson Abdallah is a revenge move at best. This assassination is highly political and she regrets to have been embarked in it. Political assassins usually end up assassinated by one of their former employers. She implores Allah to let her conclude her task silently. She pours poison onto her fingers-knives.

She charges some pellets with deadly gas. She checks her scarf one last time. If the Mmarifa becomes tactile, the capsules will break and allow the poison to reach his hands, and eventually his face, while her mask, infused with respiratory antidotes, would protect her against it. All she would have to do is clean her face promptly after. She locates his study, only two rooms down the left. She leaves her balcony, reaching the one on the left. She is ready to jump again but something is off. She looks on her side and see her target, heading right towards her, focused upon a heavy book. She crouches, hoping that, maybe he will not see her and simply trip off the balcony. He turns right just before they touch, and go sit down on a lush pillow, where a coffee is already waiting for him. He looks at her and asks:

"- What about my coffee? Did you poison it already?

She stands up. Her information was erroneous. This is the proper room.

- So? Can I drink it, or am I going to die? Ah, anyway, you won't reply. Fine."

He throws his coffee on the ground.

"- Well, I wonder why have you not killed me yet. Am I allowed some last words? A last prayer maybe?

- I cannot go between you and Allah. Go ahead" she replies.

 

Abdallah starts praying. He is rather tall and heavy she observes. Healthier than most decrepit scholar for sure. Smart and confident. He seems to have more questions after finishing his prayers:

- Who are you, and who is sending you?

- I do not have the answers to those questions. You might know more than I do, as I am nothing but a pawn.

- I would have thought so... You are part of the elite assassins; only royal family can dispatch your unit. I am sure my piggish cousin Ahmed is behind all this... He cannot fathom I won his racing dhow last season? This slug should know better!"

He ponders a moment.

"- No, no, Ahmed would want me alive to strip me from my possessions... I guess it is as I feared then: I should not have criticized that mujtahid and publicly humiliate him..."

While he is appearing relaxed and nonchalant, Sabiha know it for a ruse. It confirms when he activates his magical trap, with her in the middle. She is immobilised, and maybe that is the end of her this time. It is all into Abdallah's hands. Luckily for her, he wants to talk. All Mmarifa wants to talk. Or gloat, depending on the point of view.

"- So, what if I want to exclude sex slaves from the public lessons? They are filthy and only convert for sake of going along with the master. Let them drench in their uncovered sins. Those foreigners and criminals don't deserve our God and advanced culture. And their frivolous attitudes disturb the other good prospect student. Do we want adept sex slaves or adept soldiers?"

She cannot answer. She looks at him with eyes of terror and helplessness. They always like it more. He comes closer.

"-And you hm? You are a killer, I bet you received some sort of training in both field... Don't worry, I am not going to ask you to perform any despicable acts. I am an honourable man. Relax. Believe me."

She can feel the henna around her head burning. It makes her feel hazy. She is feeling like relaxing. But something is not proper: she cannot relax only because an Mmarifa is asking her to do it... But maybe he is correct and she has nothing to fear.

"Ah! he said, I see you have some henna, no wonder my spell takes more time. Were you a slave too? Haha! Let me... Yeah, let me remove it."

He approaches his hand, and wipes it across her face, erasing the henna line. Immediately, she feels her mind surrendering to the will off the magician. She is going to be his puppet.

 

She wakes up a few minutes later. How could she have thought this man would win. As expected, he became touchy around her. After removing the henna, he had started to remove her scarf. That was enough to kill him. Good thing he did not had time to remove her mask, yet she goes to clean her face in the study of the now-dead Mmarifa.

"They always like talking," she thinks "I have done this, I will do that because this and that. Yet they never fully act. They don't understand everyone has their own place and nothing can change it. Morning forever rises first because it is its time. I shall know my place in the world and do my bidding for the caliphate."

She finishes cleaning herself. It always feels better after a poisoning. She dresses, still thinking about the strange ideas of this pompous magician. She is not exactly free herself, as her parents had to give her to the caliphate to redeem some petty crimes. She was supposed to be a concubine for the royal harem.

"Sex slaves should not get educated because you cannot contain yourself when you see a pretty young student. I would have been one if another vizier thought of using my skills differently... I need to report to him now. For an educated man, you were not so aware of many things. Good try though, for trapping me."

The magician was long dead of course, she was just spitting out her ideas. Who else would ever listen to her anyway? The mission was a success. That is all the Vizier of sharia was expecting from her.

 

Author's Note

Let me know about the story's theme, the english quality, and the story-structure