Read Alamut Page 23

The doctor cursed and threw himself back into his work. Now he no longer offered encouraging words to the groaning wounded, and he didn’t bother to explain anything to the fedayeen. He left the easier jobs for his assistants. Of the fedayeen, Obeida proved to be the most capable.

  It wasn’t until late afternoon that he finished treating wounds and setting broken bones. He gave his assistants appropriate orders and then left to find the commanders.

  Meanwhile the commanders were talking about the day’s exploits over food and wine in the assembly hall. They shared conjectures about the supreme commander’s next moves and what advantages the day’s victory might bring them. They all praised Abdul Malik for carrying out his assignment so brilliantly.

  Their mood reached a high point when Hasan appeared in the hall with the two grand dais. His face shone with satisfaction, and as he and the commanders greeted each other, his cheeks trembled from smiling.

  “I have excellent assistants in you,” he said as they sat over the platters and jugs. He particularly praised Abu Ali, who had led the entire expedition. Then he turned to Abdul Malik and asked him how he had fared with the harems at Muzaffar’s. He acknowledged his successful contribution to the battle and thanked him for it. He also praised Abu Soraka for leading the fedayeen and carrying out his instructions so precisely. Then he looked at Captain Manuchehr. A roguish smile came over his face.

  Manuchehr had not been participating in the discussions. He was sulking because he had been forced to stand with his arms crossed while the others were winning battle laurels. He stared gloomily ahead, eating little and drinking a lot. His gigantic body shuddered when he was accosted by Hasan’s grinning gaze.

  “There are two men among us,” Hasan said, his voice wavering slightly with suppressed deviltry, “who have earned themselves the highest recognition for their sacrifices today. For a true soldier, the highest honor is in facing the enemy. And not just the highest honor but the greatest joy too. Whoever is forced to forgo that honor and that joy for a higher cause proves that he’s a real man, and he deserves special recognition.”

  He looked at the astonished faces around him. Then he grew serious and continued.

  “As I said, there are two men among us who had to forgo that honor and joy today, even though at heart they are true soldiers. Those two are Manuchehr and myself. The reasons for our having to do this are obvious. I have my satisfaction from the fact that you who fought the battle proved yourselves. Manuchehr has the honor of being designated by me as emir and commander of the forces of all Ismaili castles.”

  He rose and approached Manuchehr, who also stood up, his face red with surprise and embarrassment.

  “Surely you’re joking, Sayyiduna,” he stammered.

  “By no means, my friend,” Hasan replied, embracing him. “The order has been signed and Abu Ali will deliver it to you.”

  An approving murmur coursed through the assembly of commanders.

  “What’s more, your share of the plunder will equal that of the other commanders,” he added. “Yes, speaking of plunder, let’s talk about apportioning it now.”

  Abu Ali recounted how many animals and weapons, how much money and other valuables had fallen into their hands that morning.

  “Manuchehr and each of the commanders who fought in the battle will get one horse and one suit of armor each,” Hasan determined. “Plus ten gold pieces as well. Muzaffar’s men will likewise each get ten gold pieces, and his officers and sergeants will also get armor. We will send Muzaffar ten horses, ten camels and two hundred gold pieces as a sign of thanks for sending us help. The families of the dead will get fifty gold pieces each. The rest of the plunder is to be divided among our men. The fedayeen are to get nothing. For them, the fact that they got to fight today is reward enough.”

  When they had apportioned the booty, Hasan spoke again.

  “We must strike while the iron is hot. The news of the Turkish vanguard’s defeat will spread like wildfire all through Iran. It will lift the courage of our coreligionists and friends, and it will strengthen the doubters. Many who secretly approved of our actions will now feel emboldened to support us openly. Our comrades in fortresses under siege will be encouraged to hold out. Our enemies will be forced to reckon with us, and some of them will feel their hearts race in their treacherous breasts.”

  Here he was thinking of the grand vizier, and the commanders nodded as a sign that they understood.

  “Now, following the victory, we can count on a large influx of new believers,” he continued. “The entire district of Rudbar is friendly to us, and fathers are going to send their sons to the castle to become Ismaili warriors. Abu Soraka, you will receive them and make selections as you’ve done until now. The youngest, strongest and most clear-headed are to become fedayeen. But the condition remains that they must not be married or have lived a dissolute life. In short, they mustn’t know women and their delights. All the other able-bodied ones are to be inducted as soldiers. We’re going to augment the old rules and add some new ones. Whoever was in the castle before the battle will have certain advantages. The ones who distinguished themselves are to be promoted. Each individual’s rank, duties, rights and obligations are to be clearly stipulated. We will promulgate stricter laws. Everyone must simultaneously be a soldier and a believer. We will extirpate every earthly desire. Today is the first and last time we will permit the soldiers to drink wine, because Muzaffar’s people are in the castle. Let them find out that we are the masters of what is and isn’t allowed. As time goes on they will unwittingly be working for us. Oh yes, from now on let the recruitment of new followers be one of our highest priorities. We will release the fedayeen into the land like a swarm of bees, to talk and bear witness on our behalf. We are also going to work on the prisoners, so be sure they are well taken care of. The sultan’s army is approaching, and it may not be long before it has us surrounded. We need people who know their way around in it. They’ll go among the men and spread our faith and our zeal. This is how we must try to weaken its foundations, and the rest will topple of its own accord.”

  He ordered Abdul Malik to select a sufficient number of men and set out with them early the next morning for the fortress at Rudbar to disperse the Turkish vanguard, if it was still there. Then he was to take a detachment and scour the surrounding territory from Qazvin to Rudbar and wipe out any pockets of the enemy. At that point he was to send scouts to intercept the sultan’s army.

  Then he bade farewell to the commanders, nodded to the two grand dais, and left with them for his chambers.

  All that day Muzaffar’s men and the men of Alamut boisterously celebrated the victory. On the lower and middle terraces fires were hastily lit, over which fat oxen and plump lambs were roasted on spits. They crouched around them or sat resting on their heels, waiting impatiently for their portion of roast. The pleasant smell of sizzling meat teased their nostrils. To allay their appetite, they tore off pieces of bread and stuck them under the spits to catch and absorb the dripping fat. They talked raucously about their feats of the morning, trying to outdo and outshine each other, boasting of real and imaginary heroism and exaggerating the numbers of the enemy killed. There were some arguments and some names called. Whenever a lamb or an ox was done, they attacked it with their knives. Each of them wanted the best piece. They began threatening each other with their fists, even with weapons. The sergeants had their hands full trying to pacify them. Finally it became apparent that there was enough roast meat for everyone and that there was no point in fighting over it.

  Then donkeys were led in bearing huge wineskins. Groups of ten men were given tall jugs, into which the sergeants began pouring wine.

  “Who’s given us permission to drink wine?” they asked.

  “Sayyiduna,” the sergeants answered. “He’s the commander of the Ismailis and a new prophet.”

  “Can he allow what the Prophet has forbidden?”

  “Of course he can. Allah has given him the power to issue commandments and pro
hibitions. He’s also given him the key that opens the gate to heaven.”

  Unused to wine, the soldiers soon got drunk. They cheered the supreme commander and the Ismailis, deliberated and argued about him and his teachings, and asked the men of Alamut for explanations. Many of them decided that, once they finished their service to Muzaffar, they would return to the castle to serve Hasan.

  The fedayeen gathered on the roof of the school building and watched the noisy goings-on below. They roasted a lamb and, when they had eaten their fill, they continued their discussion of the day’s events. They drank no wine. They felt they were an elite force. Instinctively they looked down on the men chaotically swarming around the fires. Those who had been helping the doctor treat the wounded talked about their impressions. But the seizure of the flag remained the focus of discussion and analysis for a long time.

  CHAPTER NINE

  At the same time that the army of Alamut was battling with the sultan’s vanguard, the gardens behind the castle were becoming as busy as an anthill.

  At first light Adi ferried Apama over to the girls. The old woman was furious when she saw they were all still asleep. She grabbed a mallet and began banging the gong wildly.

  The girls rushed terror-stricken from their bedrooms, a hail of curses greeting them.

  “Lazy monkeys! Sayyiduna will be here any minute, and you’re all lazing about in your beds as though it were a holiday. He’ll have all our heads if he catches you like this.”

  They dressed quickly. A feverish feeling came over them as they realized that their master would be visiting the gardens. Apama and Miriam assigned them their work. They set to it enthusiastically.

  Apama flew among them like a woman possessed.

  “If I could only tell them what’s in store for them,” she murmured loudly enough for the girls nearest her to hear. She managed to fuel real chaos among them, and Miriam had to work hard to maintain order.

  Hasan had sent parchment, dyes, candles and everything else needed for making the lanterns. Apama explained to Fatima what needed to be done. Fatima immediately set to work, and within a short time the first lamp was ready. They made the room dark and lit a candle in the lantern.

  The girls squealed in delight.

  “Stupid geese! Stop wasting time gawking and get to work!” Apama scolded them.

  Fatima immediately divided the labor. One group of girls transferred her designs onto parchment, another mixed the dyes, a third used them to paint the sides of the lamps, a fourth cut them out, and a fifth pasted the various parts together. They carried the finished lamps out to the fish pond to let them dry in the sun. They quickly grew in number.

  The whole time, they talked about the arrival of Sayyiduna.

  “I imagine him coming here like a king,” Jada said. “He’ll be dressed all in gold and scarlet.”

  “He’ll come like a prophet,” Halima contradicted.

  “I suppose he told you that himself,” Jada teased her.

  Halima was just on the verge of revealing what Miriam and Adi had confided to her. But at last she managed to control herself. Apama was close by and could start questioning her.

  “Mohammed was a prophet and a king at the same time,” Fatima said.

  “Are you talking about Sayyiduna?” asked Apama, who was walking by. She grinned maliciously.

  “Some of you may lose your heads before the night is over,” she added. “This evening you’ll be getting another visit, and any one of you who gives away who you are and where you are will be beheaded immediately. Which of you has enough sense in her head not to blurt that out?” Terrified, they turned to look at Miriam.

  “Apama is right,” she explained to them. “Sayyiduna has had these gardens modeled on paradise itself. From now on you’re going to have to behave as though you really are in heaven. You’re not ordinary girls anymore, you’re houris. You need to take on that role, which shouldn’t be so hard if you try. But if any one of you gives us away to our visitors, she’ll have to die immediately.”

  “I’m not even going to open my mouth,” Sara said. “That way I won’t have to worry about letting anything slip.”

  “You’re going to have to respond in detail to everything they ask you about,” Apama retorted.

  Halima burst into tears.

  “I’m going to hide so nobody sees me.”

  “Just try,” Apama upbraided her. “We’ll put you on the rack.”

  The girls were seized with fear. They kept quiet and worked diligently.

  “Oh, what’s the use,” Fatima remarked at last. “What will be, will be. I’ve been in a harem where we had to act and pretend constantly. Men, especially when they’re still young, aren’t all that bright. It’s easy to fool them. Playing houris in these gardens won’t be that difficult either.”

  “I just had a thought,” Zuleika said. “Maybe this is why we had to learn those passages in the Koran that describe life in paradise. What do you think?”

  Miriam smiled. She herself hadn’t made that connection before. Now she had to acknowledge again how carefully Hasan had thought through every small detail.

  He really is the horrible dreamer from hell, she thought.

  “You’re right, Zuleika. Let’s review what we know from the Koran,” Zainab suggested.

  “Girls! You’ve all got imaginations!” Fatima said, encouraging them. “Imagine you’re in paradise and everything else will come of its own accord.”

  “The more naturally you behave, the easier it will be to do a good job,” Miriam added, coaching them. “Don’t overdo anything. Act as though it’s the most natural thing in the world that you’re houris. So don’t even talk about it, unless you’re asked.”

  Halima had calmed down in the meantime. Her old curiosity drove her to ask, “But why does Sayyiduna want us to pretend we’re in paradise?”

  “Because,” Apama said, dismissing her, “that way little monkeys like you will learn to keep their mouths shut.”

  Moad and Mustafa returned with hunting bags full of partridges, quail, water fowl and fish. Apama and her assistants went to the kitchen to clean and prepare them.

  The girls began breathing easy again.

  But Halima’s curiosity kept troubling her.

  “And the visitors we have to tell that we’re houris—what will they be like?”

  Her question was met with laughter.

  “First of all, you mustn’t tell them that,” Miriam scolded her playfully, “because it has to be obvious and go without saying. Second, Sayyiduna is visiting us to give us detailed instructions. But just so you don’t trouble your head about it, I’ll tell you what I think about our visitors. They could be handsome young men.”

  Halima turned as red as a poppy. All the others looked at her. She lowered her eyes and stamped her foot on the floor.

  “I’m not going to be there.”

  “You’ll have to be,” Miriam said sternly.

  Halima banged her foot on the floor once more.

  “I won’t be there.”

  “Halima?!”

  Miriam flushed red with anger.

  “So you’re going to ignore Sayyiduna’s command?”

  Halima kept silent and compressed her lips. Finally she relented.

  “And what will happen then?” she asked tamely.

  Miriam laughed.

  “You’ll see.”

  The other girls started to tease her.

  “You’re going to have to kiss them,” Fatima said.

  “And do all those things you learned from Apama,” Sara added.

  “I’ll throw something at both of you if you don’t leave me alone,” she threatened them.

  “Get to work!” Miriam admonished them. “Let’s not waste time chattering.”

  In a corner, Sara pasted and sewed the lamps together. Halima took refuge with her. Lately they had become friends again, but on a different basis, as Halima would say. Fatima had carved some dice for her out of hardwood and Halima had deve
loped a real passion for gambling. Sara became her faithful partner in this. They played for all kinds of things: nuts, bananas, oranges, candy, kisses. They would even play to decide who loved whom. If one of the girls invited Halima to spend the afternoon nap with her, she would pull the dice out of her pants belt and throw them to decide what to do.

  Even now she got them out and asked Sara to play with her. They hid behind sheets of parchment that they had set up. Sara had saved a few leftover nuts and bet those. If she lost, they went to Halima. If she won, Halima would have to give her a kiss for each one. Sara soon lost all of the nuts. Now she had to let her ear be pulled as a penalty.

  Halima always won.

  “I get to pull your ear four times,” she said meanly.

  Sara began watching her suspiciously.

  “Why do you squint at the dice each time before you throw them?” she asked.

  “I just do.”

  Sara suggested they throw the dice to find out which one of them would get the most handsome boy.

  Halima got the higher number.

  “You’re cheating, Halima. I saw you move the dice in your hand to get a higher number. Then you just put them on the floor. Either play like I do or I’m not going to be your partner anymore.”

  Halima tried and lost.

  Sara scoffed at her.

  “See? When you don’t cheat, you lose.”

  “I don’t want to do this anymore,” Halima said. “It’s not fun at all when I don’t win.”

  “Is that right? How about if I cheated?”

  “You’d better not!”

  “Well, how do you like that! So you get to cheat as much as you want, while I have to be satisfied with being your dupe?”

  Miriam approached them.

  “What’s going on with you two again?”

  Sara quickly hid the dice with her knee.

  “We were arguing about the best way to paste these together.”

  Miriam used her foot to push Sara’s knee to one side.

  “And what’s that down there?”

  She saw the dice and got furious.

  “So that’s it! Sayyiduna is coming here any minute and the two of you are just throwing dice. Well go ahead, throw them! Tonight you’ll be throwing your heads!”