word or combination of words. It was something
Sordello would never see again unless Daoud wished him to see it.

He dangled the locket by its chain before Sordello's face, letting it
swing from side to side. He held the candle so its flame reflected from
the silver disk.

"Watch the locket, Sordello. Look closely at it. The design on its face
is like no other in the world. Make certain that you would know it if
you saw it again."

For a time he let the locket swing, and Sordello's head turned from side
to side, following it.

"Do you know this locket now, Sordello? Truly know it?"

"Yes, Maestro."

"Could you mistake it for another?"

"No, Maestro."

"Good. Now I command you. When you see this locket again, it will be a
sign. It will mean that you are to kill Simon de Gobignon at once. As
soon as you see the locket, you will take up the first weapon that
comes to hand, and you will await your first good chance, and you will
strike him down. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Maestro."

"Will you do it?"

"Yes, Maestro. With much joy."

"Say what you will do, Sordello."

"When I see that locket, I will kill Simon de Gobignon at once."

"That is good. Now, in a little while you will wake up. And you will not
remember anything I have said to you about the locket and about killing
Simon de Gobignon. You will forget all about it until you see the locket
again. And then you will strike."

"Yes, Maestro."

Daoud went back to the throne and sat down. He slipped the locket's
chain over his head and dropped the silver disk back inside his tunic.
Sordello slumped in his kneeling posture like a figure of wax that had
been placed too close to a fire.

Daoud waited patiently, and in a few moments Sordello raised his head,
his eyes bloodshot but alert.

"Will you let me visit paradise again soon?" His memory had gone back to
the moment before he drank the drug.

"Not _very_ soon," said Daoud. "But serve me well, and it will happen
again." He could not make Sordello wait a year, as the Hashishiyya
usually did with their initiates. But it must be a wait of some months,
or the experience would lose its magic. And in months his work in
Orvieto might be done.

_And then again, I might still be here ten years from now._

"Tell me what I have to do, Maestro."

"Serve me faithfully, and from time to time, when it pleases me, you
will visit paradise. Disobey me or betray me--we will know instantly if
you do--and when y