Page 10 of Alamut


  “Are we in a cage?” she asked.

  Adi smiled.

  “I was just talking,” he said. “Let’s forget about it now. We’re there.”

  The boat brushed up against the shore and they stepped out onto dry land. A barely discernible footpath led through the thick undergrowth of willows and poplars. They reached a rocky ridge where a variety of strange grasses and rare flowers grew. Then they headed across a broad meadow that ended in a coppice of trees from which crowing, squealing and wild snarling sounds seemed to emanate.

  Halima timidly took hold of Adi’s hand. At the edge of the coppice she could see large cages with fluttering birds and pacing animals. When they drew close, some of the birds started flying at the bars in panic, and two large wild leopards charged at them with a furious snort.

  This left Halima shaking. Adi set down the big basket he had brought along and began feeding the beasts. Gradually the animals calmed down, each one consuming its food.

  “Normally Moad and Mustafa take care of this,” Adi said. “But they’ve gone hunting today, so the work has fallen to me.”

  Hidden behind some shrubs was a long, low-slung coop for poultry. Adi crawled into it and began collecting eggs and putting them into a small basket.

  “Now go away from here,” he said, smiling awkwardly. “I’ve got some work to do that you shouldn’t see.”

  Halima hurried away toward the cages. In the meantime Adi strangled several chickens, ducks and geese. The shrieking of the birds struck Halima to the marrow. In terrible fright she clasped her hands to her ears.

  Adi came back from the henhouse. He threw a rag over the dead fowl and then showed Halima some of the animals.

  “If those two leopards were free like Ahriman, they’d tear me to pieces, wouldn’t they?” Halima wondered aloud.

  “Maybe. Or they might run away. Leopards are afraid of people.”

  “Then why do you keep them in cages?”

  “Sayyiduna needs them for their offspring. They’re mates, and Sayyiduna wants us to raise him some hunting animals. He has lots of friends who are princes, and those are the people he’ll give them to.”

  “Is it true that young leopards are like kittens?”

  “Yes, it is. Only they’re cuter and a lot funnier.”

  “I’d like to have one.”

  “If you’re good, I’ll bring you one to keep while he’s still young.”

  “Do you really think Sayyiduna would allow it?”

  Adi smiled.

  “You have powerful friends.”

  Halima blushed. She knew that he meant Miriam.

  “Why does Apama hate you?” she asked.

  “Oh, she hates the whole world. She fears Sayyiduna, though. But she especially hates me because once I … how can I say this.”

  “Tell me, Adi, tell me!”

  “It’s stupid. Only please, don’t blab to anyone about this. You see, when Apama first came to the gardens she would constantly drop hints about how she and Sayyiduna had been close years before, and how he had given her his heart in Kabul. She wanted to make it clear to us that, now that Sayyiduna had become powerful, he had summoned her to the castle for those same reasons. She behaved arrogantly, dressed up in silks, decked herself out in jewelry, painted her face, walked around with this mysterious smile, and constantly sneered at everybody else. Even me, who had known Sayyiduna since his days in Egypt, when I guarded him from his enemies with my own body. Completely by accident I caught her one day in the midst of some very human business. She was even more ludicrous and repulsive than usual. I burst out laughing, and from that moment not a day has passed that she hasn’t cursed me to no end. She suspects that I revealed her shame to the others, so it would suit her fine if we all dropped dead. And if she weren’t so afraid of Sayyiduna, she’d have poisoned us all by now.”

  “Is she really so mean?”

  “She’s mean because she’s a slave to her arrogance, even though she suffers so much. She doesn’t want to be old, but she knows she is.”

  They walked still farther into the woods, where they came upon a cage of monkeys. Halima shouted with joy as she watched them chase each other across the bars, swing on ropes, perform gymnastics, and pinch each other.

  “We used to have a bear too,” Adi said. “But he ate too much, so Sayyiduna ordered us to kill him. We also have some cattle, a she-camel, four horses and several donkeys on the island. And we have the only dogs and cats. But nobody can come to our island except us. That’s Apama’s doing, through Sayyiduna.”

  “Does Sayyiduna ever visit the gardens?”

  “I can’t tell you that, dear child.”

  “I want to know what he’s like.”

  “He’s hard to describe. He has a beard and he’s a very powerful man.”

  “Is he handsome?”

  Adi laughed.

  “I never thought about it, little cat’s paw. He’s not ugly, for sure. I’d be more inclined to call him awe-inspiring.”

  “Is he tall?”

  “I wouldn’t say so. He’s at least a head shorter than me.”

  “Then he must be very strong.”

  “I don’t think so. You could probably flatten him with one arm.”

  “Then how can he be so awe-inspiring? Does he have a big army?”

  “Not particularly. But even in Egypt, where he was all alone and a foreigner, he inspired so much fear that the caliph ordered him arrested one night and put on a boat that took him out of the country. His enemies could have murdered him, but they didn’t dare.”

  “Strange, very strange,” Halima thought out loud. “Is he friends with the sultan?”

  “No. The sultan is his worst enemy.”

  “Oh my, what if he attacked us! What would become of us then?”

  “Don’t worry. He’d go home with a bloody head—that is, if he still had one on his shoulders.”

  “Does Sayyiduna have many wives?”

  “You ask too many questions. He has a son, that much I know, and supposedly two little monkeys like you.”

  Halima looked hurt.

  “What do you suppose he would think about me?” she wondered, half to herself.

  Adi laughed.

  “He has a lot of other things to worry about, at least for the moment.”

  “I’ll bet he dresses in pure silk and scarlet.”

  “It depends. I’ve also seen him wear sackcloth.”

  “I’ll bet he only dresses like that so people won’t recognize him. Is he a king?”

  “More than a king. He’s a prophet.”

  “Like Mohammed? I’ve heard that Mohammed was really handsome and had many wives. Some really young ones too.”

  Adi roared with laughter.

  “Oh, you … nosey little robin, you! What won’t that little head come up with!”

  “Are women afraid of him too?”

  “Women most of all. Apama, for example, is as tame as a dove around him.”

  “What does he do to them?”

  “Nothing. That’s just the point, that everyone is afraid of him despite that fact.”

  “Then he must be very mean and bossy.”

  “No, not at all. He likes to laugh and joke. But when he looks at you, the world stands still.”

  “Does he have such frightening eyes?”

  “No, I don’t know. But it’s about time for you to stop asking so many questions. What it is about him that’s got everybody afraid, I don’t know. But if you ever get a chance to see him, you’ll have the feeling that he knows your every thought, even the ones you’ve never shared with anyone. It will seem as though he sees straight to the bottom of your heart, and there’ll be no point trying to seem better or pretending, because you’ll feel in your bones that he sees and knows everything.”

  Halima shuddered as all her blood rushed to her cheeks.

  “Oh, I don’t think I’d like to meet him. People like that are the scariest of all.”

  “What have I been
telling you? Now let’s go get the basket and head back home. And you, my little gazelle, keep that little pestle locked up behind those pearls of yours and be as silent as a fish about what we’ve been talking about.”

  “I will, Adi,” Halima promised, and hurried after him toward the boat.

  That evening the girls gathered around the pool in the great hall. The room was festively decorated, with twice the usual number of candles burning in the chandeliers, and oil lamps flickering with a variety of colored flames set out in the corners. The whole room was decked out with greenery and flowers.

  Three of Apama’s assistants served the girls with food and drink. On bronze platters they brought in roasted birds, pan-fried fish with lemon, fruit and pastries, and they poured wine from earthen jugs into cups which the girls dutifully emptied. What began as subdued whispering soon turned into resounding laughter and pervasive twittering. Apama, who for a time observed all this with restrained anger, eventually went away in a rage.

  “You’re responsible for this going well,” she shouted at Miriam.

  “Don’t worry, Apama,” Miriam laughed in response.

  She could hear her still muttering to herself as she walked away down the corridor.

  “Shameful. Shameful!”

  At this point Asad and Adi joined the meal, and soon afterward Moad and Mustafa too. They also ate and drank, and the revelry became universal.

  “Let’s start the show,” Fatima proposed. They all agreed with her.

  They began by reciting verses. Some presented excerpts from the Koran, while others offered passages from Ansari and other poets. Fatima recited her own work.

  Soon she and Zainab were engaged in a rhyming duel. The eunuchs, who had never witnessed their agility, laughed themselves into tears. Adi praised them profusely. His face shone with happiness and pride.

  When the recitations were over, it was time for dancing. Fatima and several of the others went for their instruments, while Miriam, Halima and Zuleika began dancing. When they finished their group performance, Zuleika continued by herself. Slowly at first, in time to the beating of the gong, then faster and faster her body twisted. Finally, she leapt up onto the edge of the pool, spun around in place with such frightening speed that it took everyone’s breath away, and then, like a gust of wind, vanished amid her bed pillows.

  The girls all shouted with delight. Halima ran over and hugged her impetuously. The eunuchs filled their cups and they all drank to Zuleika’s health.

  The wine had already gone to their heads. They began singing, kissing, and hugging each other. They pulled pranks on each other, exchanging gibes and taunts in jest. But the queen of all this silliness was Halima, whose head began spinning with the first cup of wine. Convinced she had become as light as a butterfly, she had the feeling that invisible wings were lifting her off the floor. Soon after Zuleika’s dance she was overcome with vain rivalry, and she insisted that the musicians play a dance for her. She began twisting and spinning, imitating Zuleika’s movements. Everybody laughed at her, which only served to incite her to even greater buffoonery. Finally she too jumped up onto the edge of the pool. Her companions screamed and Miriam ran to catch her, but it was too late. She had lost her equilibrium and tumbled into the water.

  In an instant they were all around her. Adi’s powerful arm reached into the water for her and lifted her out of the pool. She coughed up the water she had inhaled, looked fearfully at Miriam, and started crying and laughing all at once. Miriam scolded her and led her into her bedroom, where she rubbed her down with a towel and changed her clothes. When the two of them returned, she was quiet and tame for a while. But several cups of wine restored her courage. She went to the entrance and struck the gong several times as a sign for everyone to be quiet.

  “My companions and lovely family ones,” she began, trying to imitate Adi. “Here you see Halima, young and lovely, whose head the wine has made all muddly.”

  The girls and the eunuchs burst out in laughter.

  “Don’t go on, Halima,” Miriam said to her. “It’s not working.”

  “I just wanted to apologize to everyone,” Halima responded, hurt.

  Miriam got up from her bed, went over to Halima, and led her back to her bed pillows. There Halima felt so vulnerable that the tears flowed profusely. She took Miriam’s hand and kissed her fingers, one by one.

  That whole evening Sara was unable to assert herself. She was used to having Halima all to herself that time of day, and now she watched her every movement jealously. All evening Halima had paid no attention to her. Now, as she lay next to Miriam, kissing her fingers, she instinctively turned to look for her, and she caught a glance that was full of jealous despair. She smiled at her vainly and defiantly began stroking Miriam’s hair, face and neck. She pressed up close to her, hugged her, and kissed her passionately on the lips.

  Sara was suffering the torments of hell. She emptied one cup after the other. Finally she couldn’t take it any longer. She burst out crying and ran toward the door.

  Halima pulled away from Miriam and ran after her. Her conscience had stung her and now she wanted to comfort Sara.

  In an instant Miriam understood everything. The blood left her cheeks. She stood up.

  “Sara! Halima! Come here!” she called out in a harsh voice.

  Timidly and with eyes lowered, the girls approached her.

  “What is this about?” she asked sternly.

  Halima fell to Miriam’s feet, clasped her hands around them, and wailed.

  “So that’s it,” Miriam said blankly.

  “No, no, it’s not my fault!” Halima cried out. “Sara seduced me!”

  Miriam pushed Halima away. She stepped over to Sara and gave a powerful slap to her face. Soundlessly, Sara fell to the floor.

  Miriam turned her back on them both. When she saw the half-frightened, half-amused faces around her, her lips formed a faint smile.

  “Sara!” she called out. “Collect your things and move to the windowless cell at the end of the corridor, immediately. That’s where you’ll sleep until you reform. Get up and go! And don’t let me see you tonight again!”

  Halima already felt infinitely wretched about having betrayed Sara so cheaply.

  Sara got up, cast a sad look at Halima, and quietly disappeared from the hall.

  Halima scooted on her knees over to Miriam, lifted her arms in a gesture of supplication and looked at her with tearful eyes.

  “And you, you little sinner, are going to move into my room,” Miriam told her, “so I can keep my eyes on you. We’ll see if you can mend your ways. Safiya and Jada can move in with Zainab.”

  At that instant Halima felt that blue sky had opened up above the hell into which she had just been thrown. She hesitated to believe what she’d heard, but she gathered her courage and lifted her eyes to see smiles on her companions’ faces. She even broke a smile through her tears.

  Unobserved, the eunuchs had already disappeared from the hall.

  “It’s time for bed,” Miriam said.

  One by one, and much subdued, the girls left for their rooms.

  Hesitantly, Halima waited in the doorway.

  “What are you standing there for?” Miriam said to her gruffly. “Go get your things and bring them back here.”

  It was only now that Halima truly believed it. Yes, she was a sinner, outcast and condemned. She had also lost Miriam’s favor. But for all that she had also received the most wonderful gift. She was going to sleep in Miriam’s room, breathe the same air as her, enjoy her uninterrupted presence. And she was going to be in immediate contact with the mystery itself!

  She barely noticed her companions smiling at her. They whispered to each other how pretty and sweet she was, and they threw her little kisses. She cast glaring looks at them as she went to her former bedroom for her things. Zainab, Jada and Safiya helped her. She was hopelessly ashamed. She stared at the floor and looked upset. With their help she made a bed for herself in Miriam’s room, quickl
y undressed, and hid under the blanket, as though she’d already fallen asleep. But her ears picked up every sound in the room. Finally Miriam came. Halima could hear her taking her clothes off and unfastening her sandals. Then—and her heart stood still for an instant—she made out quiet footsteps approaching her bed. She could feel Miriam’s gaze, but she didn’t dare open her eyes. And then—joy of joys—a gentle kiss touched her forehead. She suppressed the shiver that threatened to course through her body, and soon fell asleep.

  This was the beginning of magnificent days for Halima. She was no longer burdened by a bad conscience as before. Ever since her transgression had been revealed and she had accepted punishment for it, her heart had become light and joyful. She still felt a bit awkward toward her companions. They would smile at her knowingly and threaten in jest to seduce her. She would make her tiny hand into a fist, shake it at them, and give them nasty looks. She became even more audacious about turning her nose up at people and things, and she didn’t mind if she became the center of attention again as the “little sinner.”

  Sara avoided her, and Halima also felt awkward whenever they met. More than once she noticed that Sara’s eyes were red from crying. At meals she was the recipient of her pained and reproachful glances. One day she finally mustered enough courage to approach her and say, “You know, Sara, I never meant to betray you. Really I didn’t. It just came out.”

  Tears streamed down Sara’s face, and her lips trembled. She would have liked to say something, but she couldn’t. She covered her face with her hands and ran off.

  But all these things struck Halima as trifles against the enormous happiness of being able to sleep in the same room as Miriam. She put herself entirely at her service. She did slightly regret that Jada and Safiya had had to leave Miriam on account of her. They were twin sisters and as alike as two peas. Of all the girls they were the meekest and most submissive. For a long time, whenever she saw one of them by herself, Halima couldn’t tell whether it was Jada or Safiya. The only joke they played was to tease her by each pretending to be the other, which made them laugh till they cried. For some time after being forced to leave Miriam’s room they were visibly dejected. But eventually they bonded with Zainab, and together they formed an inseparable threesome.

 
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