Alamut (11 page)

“How do we know that?”

“Because they support the false caliph in Baghdad.”

“Who is the most bitter enemy of the Ismailis in Iran?”

“The sultan’s grand vizier, Nizam al-Mulk.”

“Why is he a sworn enemy of the one true teaching?”

“Because he is an apostate.”

“What is his most blasphemous crime?”

“His most blasphemous crime was to offer ten thousand gold pieces for the head of Our Master.”

Ibn Tahir shuddered. It was true, the grand vizier was a criminal who had ordered his grandfather Tahir beheaded. And now he had set his sights on the Ismaili supreme commander himself.

Through these questions and answers, dai Ibrahim reviewed the material he had presented so far. Then with a wave of his hand he gave the sign that he would now continue lecturing. Quickly the novices set their tablets on their knees and prepared their writing implements. Posing questions and then answering them himself, dai Ibrahim began dictating the nature of the power granted to the supreme commander of the Ismailis.

In amazement ibn Tahir wrote everything down.

“Who gave Sayyiduna power over the faithful? The Egyptian caliph Mustansir indirectly, and Allah directly.

“What is the nature of this power? This power is of a dual nature, natural and supernatural.

“What is his natural power? That he is the master over life and death of all Ismailis in Iran.

“What is his supernatural power? He has the ability and right to send anyone he wants to paradise.

“Why is Sayyiduna the most powerful of all men who have ever lived on earth? Because Allah has given him the key that unlocks the gate to paradise.”

The fourth prayer marked the end of the school day. The novices gathered on the roof to review what they had learned that day. A lively debate developed around ibn Tahir.

“What I saw and heard in Abdul Malik’s lesson is clear to me,” he said. “But I don’t understand what dai Ibrahim meant by the maxim that Allah had given Sayyiduna the key to the gate of paradise.”

“What is there to wonder about here?” Yusuf spoke up. “That’s what Sayyiduna teaches and our duty is to believe it.”

“Fine, but I just don’t understand whether we’re supposed to take it literally or see it as some kind of parable,” ibn Tahir continued to probe.

“A parable?!” Yusuf lost his temper. “That’s how it’s been said and how we’re supposed to take it.”

“Then that would mean a new miracle has taken place,” ibn Tahir persisted.

“Why shouldn’t it have?” Yusuf said.

“Why shouldn’t it have?” ibn Tahir replied. “Because the Prophet said explicitly that miracles occurred only in ancient times. He disallowed them during his own reign and afterwards.”

Yusuf didn’t know how to respond.

Then Jafar spoke. “We don’t need to see a miracle in the fact that Allah gave Sayyiduna the key to paradise. After all, even the Prophet didn’t view his journey to heaven with the archangel Gabriel as a miracle.”

“All right, then let’s assume that Sayyiduna was just the recipient of Allah’s special favor,” Ibn Tahir continued. “That still leaves the question of when, where and in what manner Allah granted Our Master the key to the gate of paradise.”

“Allah appeared to Sayyiduna in the form of a burning bush or a pillar of smoke,” Suleiman suggested, “the way he appeared to the earlier prophets. He could have given him the key that way, like he gave Moses the tables of the law on Mount Sinai.”

“I can picture all of that,” ibn Tahir said, growing more and more impassioned.
“I just can’t accept that we live alongside such a glorious and powerful prophet.”

“Maybe you don’t feel worthy?” Suleiman said with a smile. “In what way are we any worse than people of earlier times?”

Ibn Tahir glanced around him in distress. He saw faces that expressed extreme religious fervor. No, they couldn’t understand what was perplexing him so much and forcing him to doubt.

“I think what’s more likely than Suleiman’s conjecture,” Jafar offered, “is that Allah sent some angel to take Sayyiduna to heaven. There Allah could have easily handed him the key to paradise.”

“One way or the other,” ibn Tahir summarized, “the question now is what is the nature of this key. Because we have to assume that neither Allah, nor paradise, nor any of the things in it are made of the same substance as our world. So how is it possible that there is an object among us, here on earth, that’s made of the substance of the other world? Could we perceive it with our senses? And if we could, would it still be a heavenly object?”

“You ask an excellent question, grandson of Tahir,” Yusuf brightened, rubbing his hands in satisfaction.

“If you ask me, this discussion has gone beyond what’s allowed,” Naim warned.

“Who asked you, cricket?” said Suleiman, drowning him out. “As though we cared what you think.”

“In the Koran it’s written,” said Jafar, “that after death the righteous will partake of heaven and its joys in forms that are similar to those on earth. The blessed will have the same senses they had in this world, and the same pleasures. Seen that way, objects in the other world won’t differ much from objects here. And so the substance that the key to paradise is made of could resemble the substance of earthly things.”

Obeida had listened attentively and in silence the entire time and now was smiling slyly.

“I’ve got a good explanation that could clear up this whole riddle of Allah’s key,” he said. “We’ve heard that this key opens the gate to paradise and that it’s in the possession of Sayyiduna, who lives among us, on earth. So this key opens the gate to paradise from the outside, from earth’s side. That means that, regardless of the nature of paradise, Sayyiduna’s key opens the gate from earth, so it has to be made of an earthly substance.”

“You’ve hit on it perfectly!” Yusuf exclaimed.

“An elegant explanation,” ibn Tahir consented.

“Obeida is as cunning as a lynx,” Suleiman laughed.

“We need to ask dai Ibrahim if it really is the right answer,” Naim worried.

“You wouldn’t be very welcome with a question like that, my little bundle of joy,” Suleiman countered.

“Why not?” Naim asked irritably.

“Because, in case you haven’t noticed, the reverend dai Ibrahim requires us to answer only what we’ve been asked. If you, my little snotpicker, tried to outshine him, you’d be making a fatal miscalculation.”

The novices all laughed, while Naim flushed red with rage. But Yusuf, for whom convoluted and learned discussions were a huge pleasure, glared at Suleiman angrily, while he said to his companions, “Come on, keep going, fellows.”

But then the horn summoned them to the fifth prayer.

After supper ibn Tahir was overcome with fatigue and chose not to go for an evening walk with the others. He withdrew to the bedroom and lay down on his bed.

For a long time he was unable to close his eyes. Images of everything he had been experiencing at Alamut passed before his eyes. Perhaps the affable dai Abu Soraka and strict Captain Manuchehr reminded him most of his former life outside the castle. But the half-absurd, half-enigmatic al-Hakim, and then dai Abdul Malik, endowed with his monstrous powers, and most of all the mysterious and grim dai Ibrahim, had introduced him to a completely new world. And he had already begun to recognize that this new world had its own hard and fast rules, that it was organized and governed from within, from the inside out, and that its structure was consistent, logical, and complete. He hadn’t entered it gradually. He had been yanked into it. And now, here he was at its very heart. Just yesterday he had been on the outside, over there. Today he was Alamut’s completely.

He felt overcome with sorrow at taking leave from that former world. He felt as though the way back was now blocked forever. But he could already sense in himself an intense anticipation of the future, a passionate curiosity about the mysteries that he sensed all around him, and a firm determination not to lag behind his peers in anything.

“All right, then. I’m in Alamut now,” he said, almost out loud. “Why should I need to look back?”

But then, one more time, he summoned his home, his father, his mother and sister before his mind’s eye, and he silently bade them farewell. The images began to fade, and in sweet anticipation of new things to come he fell fast asleep.

Soon Halima had fully adjusted to her new surroundings and new life. By some strange, inexplicable circumstances she always got whatever she wanted. Mainly this consisted of everyone liking her, both people and animals. Occasionally even Apama would twist her withered lips into an indulgent smile at some foolishness. Halima took full advantage of her position, becoming both stubborn and a tease, and taking it for granted that the world just naturally submitted to her wishes, which for the most part were tame enough.

Sara succumbed to her first and most abjectly of all. Halima’s slightest nod was her command, and it made her happy if she could be compliant to her in every way. She was a born slave, loyally enduring Halima’s every annoyance and whim. Whenever Halima in any way showed a preference for one of her other companions, Sara would become dejected and miserable.

That’s how things were by day.

But at night, barely had the girls burrowed into their pillows and Zainab fallen asleep, than Sara would creep over to Halima’s bed, slide in under the blanket, and start kissing and caressing her. Halima resisted at first, to some degree. With time, however, she managed to grow used to it and learned to quietly tolerate it. She figured that she probably had to make some sacrifice for the countless services that Sara performed for her by day. But she was incapable of taking Sara’s constant jealousy. Halima enjoyed lavishing her favor in all directions. She liked throwing her affections at everyone, flattering first one person, then another, and she couldn’t stand to have anyone holding her back. Whenever she caught Sara watching her with eyes full of woeful jealousy, she would torment and provoke her on purpose. When they were alone later and Sara rained reproaches on her, she usually threatened never so much as to look at her again.

Apparently Sara had some inherent need to serve someone out of love and subordinate herself to that person’s every wish, even at the price of endlessly excruciating jealousy. By contrast, Halima took pleasure in life, in her youth, in the sun, like a bird or a butterfly. It struck her as perfectly natural for her to become the center of interest and attention, and to have the world revolve around her.

In her free time she would wander through the gardens, which were growing more and more lush with flowers, draw in the scent of the innumerable roses one after the other opening their sumptuous petals, pick flowers to decorate the rooms, and play tag with Ahriman and the gazelle, whose name was Susanna. She had walked through her domain in all directions, exploring all its hiding places, and she had seen with her own eyes that the gardens were in fact surrounded by water on all sides. And, on the opposite banks, she had seen more gardens and woods stretching as far as the eye could see. Truly, it was as though they were living in the midst of a real paradise.

Soon she even ventured as far as the rocks where the lizards sunned themselves and Peri the yellow snake lived. She kept at a respectful distance, although silently she tried to persuade herself that Miriam was right, and she recited out loud, “How pretty the lizards are, really!” She even tried to whistle like Miriam to summon Peri the yellow snake from its hole. But even before the little creature poked its pointed head out, she went flying in the opposite direction and didn’t dare look back until she was among people again.

It was in that very spot that Adi and Mustafa found her once. They wanted to give her a little scare and tried to sneak up on her. But Halima was like a mouse on its guard. She heard a noise and looked back, and when she saw the two Moors creeping up on her, she ran.

Adi, who lagged behind, called to Mustafa, “Catch her! Catch her!”

And indeed, within a few strides Mustafa caught up with her. He picked her up in his powerful arms and carried her back to Adi. Halima flailed, thrashed, and bit all around her and screamed for them to let her go, while the eunuchs enjoyed themselves and laughed.

“Let’s give her to the lizards,” Mustafa said.

Halima wailed so much they actually got frightened.

“No, let’s play ball with her instead,” Adi suggested. He stepped back several paces, held his arms out, and said to Mustafa, “Throw her to me.”

“Clasp your hands around your shins,” Mustafa instructed her. “There you go! Hold onto your wrist tight!”

Halima was beginning to enjoy this adventure. She did as Mustafa told her, and in the next instant she went zipping through the air like a ball into Adi’s arms. She screamed as though she were being flayed alive, but now
it was more out of the thrill of the game and a delight in the sound of her own voice.

The screams lured Ahriman, who came to see what unusual things were going on. He stood next to Adi with his eyes and his entire head following the living ball as it flew through the air from one set of arms to the other. Apparently the game amused him, because he started to purr in contentment.

“Have you noticed how soft and round she’s gotten?” Mustafa asked.

Adi laughed heartily and continued, “My dear little kitten’s paw, my sweet little pastry, hope of my learning and faithful client of my yearning for wisdom. Look how you’ve grown, how you’ve filled out, half-stone.”

When she had completed several of these airborne circuits, they suddenly heard a furious shriek coming from the opposite shore.

“Apama!” Mustafa shuddered, quickly setting Halima back down on her feet. She instantly bounded down the path and vanished into the undergrowth.

“Oh, those abominations! Those debauched animals!” Apama howled from the opposite shore. “I’m going to denounce you to Sayyiduna and he’ll order you both castrated again. You’ve trampled my most beautiful flower, my delicate rosebud.”

The eunuchs exploded with laughter.

“What are you howling about, you loathsome mutt, you aged slut?” Adi mocked her. “Just wait, we’ll grind you with stones and shatter your bones, you vicious witch, you cross-eyed bitch.”