. I can pass through any
obstacle. I can see what people are doing thousands of leagues away. I
can bring the dead back to life. I told you that you are a dead man,
Sordello. You are truly dead, but you have nothing to fear, because my
power can bring you back to life."

The bravo hung lax in the chains, his half-shut eyes still moving from
right to left, following the candle flame. His knees had buckled and his
belly sagged.

Daoud handed the candle to Lorenzo and beckoned to one of the Africans,
who took the simmering pot of drugged wine from the tripod, holding it
by a wooden handle, and gave it to Daoud.

"Where are you, Sordello?"

"I am in hell."

"And what are you?"

"A dead man."

"And I?"

"A mighty wizard."

"Very good. Now drink this." Daoud felt the lip of the pot to make sure
it was not too hot, then brought it to Sordello's mouth. Obediently
Sordello lifted his chin and opened his lips, allowing Daoud to pour the
warm wine into his mouth, and then swallowed. Daoud poured more into him
and then gave the pot back to Tilia's servant.

"Now you will truly know my power, Sordello. Prepare yourself for the
most wonderful night of your life. You will make a journey from hell to
heaven. Close your eyes and raise your head." Lorenzo held out the brass
bowl with the needle, and Daoud took the needle, holding it firmly with
his thumb and first two fingers. Gesturing to Lorenzo to bring the
candle close to Sordello's throat, he searched out a vein just where the
neck met the shoulder.

"You can feel nothing. You can feel no pain at all."

Daoud took a deep breath and prayed to God to guide his hand. He jabbed
the needle into Sordello's neck. The bravo remained utterly motionless,
and Daoud heard Lorenzo gasp in amazement. Daoud left the needle stuck
in the pale, pink flesh. He watched Sordello closely and put his palm
before his lax mouth. He could feel Sordello's breath on his palm, slow
and steady, the breath of a sleeping man. After a time the craggy block
of a head fell forward, and the body hung limp in the chains.

So far, all was working as he had hoped. But the man was stronger than
he had thought. He had been harder to break. There was always the danger
that somewhere deep in his soul a part would remain free. Daoud had
heard of such things happening, of slaves of the Old Man of the Mountain
who suddenly rebelled. The methods of the Hashishiyya were not perfect.

He would have to chance it.