Alamut (16 page)

Otherwise there were no particular issues that bothered Yusuf, and very little that surprised him, with the exception, perhaps, of ibn Tahir’s ability to compose poems that he hadn’t read anywhere and that hadn’t been dictated to him. Publicly he called him a magician, but in private his earthbound imagination insisted that ibn Tahir had to have some secret source somewhere that he drew his art from. That the poems he knew had been composed by poets, this much he understood. But that had been in the dim, dark past, back when heroes still walked the earth and did battle with demons and other supernatural beings. But that his companion, who slept in the bed next to his and was a head shorter and a lot weaker than him—that this person could be one of those poets was something his simple brain refused to accept. He could more or less understand that Sayyiduna was a great prophet, despite the fact that the two of them lived in the same castle. Sayyiduna was invisible and found it unnecessary to appear to anyone. Ibn Tahir argued and joked with Yusuf every day. Despite these doubts he sincerely admired him and was proud of their friendship.

Although he was a peerless swordsman and snare thrower and always the first to volunteer for any dangerous ordeal, Suleiman easily got jealous of the successes of others. Once, when somebody praised Yusuf and ibn Tahir to him, he replied, “One’s a fool and the other’s full of himself.”

Even so, the three of them were inseparable. Whenever others attacked
Suleiman’s companions, he defended them. He would become furious and refute them.

“When you’re able to withstand as much exertion and throw a spear as far as Yusuf, then you can talk.”

Or regarding ibn Tahir, he might say, “If you had just a fraction of his intellect in your heads, you wouldn’t just be full of yourselves, your heads would be so puffed up they would have exploded long ago.”

But nobody held these taunts against him, because it wasn’t just Yusuf and ibn Tahir who liked him, but the whole school, including the teachers.

One of the strictest injunctions was against any discussion of women or matters of sexuality in general. Thus it was that it took the novices’ breath away when Ibrahim unexpectedly touched on this delicate subject in one of his lessons. He had just spoken about the Prophet’s wives. Then he cleared his throat, lowered his gaze, and fixed it on the young men sitting in front of him. He began in a grave voice.

“The Prophet himself did not forbid believers to marry and enjoy a life shared with the opposite sex. He himself provided the model of a steadfast spouse and good father. And yet at the same time he set a luminous goal before all believers—martyrdom for the holy faith and the greatest reward for this sacrifice—eternal joy in the gardens of paradise. Following his august example, the earliest believers were able to combine the two—a pleasant life with women and courageous sacrifice for his teachings. But when the Prophet died, dissension grew among his believers. The men just wallowed around in harems and fought for power and other earthly possessions. Forgotten was the Prophet’s commandment to sacrifice for the great cause, to fight sword in hand, even to die a martyr’s death for it … Now Sayyiduna has drawn a line between that and his own actions. On that side are Baghdad and the Seljuk tyrants with their depraved adherents. On this side are you and us. You who are about to be consecrated as fedayeen are an elite corps whose ultimate purpose is sacrifice and martyrdom for the holy cause. You must therefore be different from them in every way. This is why Sayyiduna has issued the strictest injunction for you: you must neither marry nor otherwise succumb to any kind of debauchery. As if you already inhabited the heavenly gardens that have been created for you, you are forbidden to speak of impure things. You are also forbidden to think about them or secretly submit to them in your imagination. Nothing is hidden from Allah! And Sayyiduna has been chosen by Him and designated to be your guide. The strictest punishments await any who would violate this injunction. Whoever is caught in an unseemly conversation will be immediately demoted to foot soldier. One of your rank has already met with that punishment. Once you’ve been consecrated, whoever has intercourse with a woman or, still worse, marries, will be put to a hideous death. First, the executioner will put out his eyes with
a red-hot iron. Once the worst pain has passed, his limbs will be pulled out of his living body, one by one. The supreme commander has deemed these punishments appropriate for anyone who violates his commandment.”

The novices felt an icy shudder at these words. They didn’t dare look each other in the eye. Some of them vividly imagined the horrific punishments. They tensed up, and barely stifled sighs escaped from a few of them.

When dai Ibrahim saw the effects of his words, an imperceptible smile passed over his unmoving face. He continued in a much gentler voice.

“Don’t be frightened by Sayyiduna’s injunction. It only appears to be cruel. Because who among you would even think of trading the reward that awaits you for your sacrifices, for the dubious pleasure that violating Sayyiduna’s commandments could offer you? Each of you who is steadfast in carrying out what you’re commanded to do will be given eternal delights! And what delights! As martyrs for the holy cause you will enter into gardens where streams flow clear as crystal. You’ll recline on soft pillows amid pavilions of glass and stroll in the shade of lush, leafy trees through perfectly tended gardens. You’ll be surrounded by flower beds full of exquisitely shivering blossoms. Fair-limbed girls with dark eyes shaped like almonds will serve you the choicest food and drink. They’ll be at your service! Allah specially created these girls so that they will retain their youth and virginity, even though they submit completely to your wishes … Once you are consecrated, you’ll be ready to earn these delights. Allah has given Sayyiduna the key to the gardens intended for you. Sayyiduna will open the gates to paradise for whoever carries out his commandments faithfully. How can anything deter you from the path to this reward?”

That evening the novices gathered on the rooftop and ibn Tahir said, “Our teachers have encouraged us to use our free time to talk about anything we’ve learned in the course of the day. Today dai Ibrahim explained why Sayyiduna forbids us to be unchaste in word and thought as well as action. I don’t think we’d be violating that injunction if we discuss everything we’ve heard, the way we usually do, and come to some conclusions about how to act so that we can avoid temptations more easily.”

These words frightened some of the novices.

“I’m against it,” Naim said. “Dai Ibrahim forbade us to talk about unchaste things. You heard the punishments for violators.”

“Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill, Naim,” Jafar countered. “We are allowed to discuss anything our teachers have lectured about on the same day. Nobody can punish us for discussing the subject intelligently and matter-of-factly.”

“Just as long as the subject’s not women and other indecent things!” Naim grew excited.

Yusuf lost his temper.

“Over the parapets with the runt!”

Frightened, Naim backed away toward the exit.

“Stay here!” Suleiman yelled at him. “That way you can’t claim later that you weren’t here. And if you don’t stop being a pest, some of your fur is going to fly tonight after the lights go out.”

Ibn Tahir began.

“Let me speak frankly and directly so that we get these things out in the open at once. I’m convinced that none of us would even think of actually having an affair with a woman. We wouldn’t even talk about it, from here on out. We can control our actions and our tongue. But how are we supposed to govern our thoughts when they attack us in moments of weakness—not to mention our dreams? For while Iblis doesn’t hold power over our will, he does hold power over our imagination and our dreams. For instance, on a number of occasions I’ve deliberately tried to refrain from indecent thoughts. And I’ve been on the verge of thinking that I’d won. But then a lewd dream comes to you, as if inspired by some evil spirit, and the whole following day your imagination is its prisoner. So you start over, until you slip again. But the injunction is ironclad and refuses to recognize this natural weakness. How do we deal with that?”

Suleiman responded, “Why worry our heads over this? Dreams are just that: dreams. Nobody can be held accountable for them, any more than for every thought that runs through your head.”

“He’s right!” Yusuf exulted. “It’s like he took the words right out of my mouth.”

“No, I don’t know if that works,” ibn Tahir mused. “The injunction is definite and clear, so there has to be some way for us to overcome our weakness.”

Jafar joined in.

“You’ve hit on it exactly, ibn Tahir. If the injunction is as it is, then it has to be possible for us not to violate it. Each of us has to resist the insinuations of the evil spirit with all his might. That way we can liberate our thoughts and even our dreams from its influence.”

“I’ve tried that,” ibn Tahir said. “But human weakness is enormous.”

“It’s not smart to pick a fight with a more powerful opponent,” Yusuf grumbled.

Then Obeida, who had been listening silently until then, smiled knowingly.

“Why all the speeches and arguments, friends,” he said, “when in fact the matter is much simpler than that? Do you think Sayyiduna could give us a commandment we couldn’t fulfill? I don’t think so. So listen. Hasn’t Sayyiduna promised us a reward for our endurance, for our sacrifice? He
has, and it’s the heavenly delights in the gardens of the beyond. Let me ask you: is a righteous man allowed to look forward to his future reward? You’ll all say, of course! So we also have every right to look forward to the joys that Sayyiduna has promised as our share after death. In our thoughts we can look forward to the beautiful gardens and the bubbling springs, we can imagine the choice food and drink that we’ll be served, and finally, in our imagination we can also enjoy the embrace of the dark-eyed maidens who will be assigned to serve us there. Where’s the impurity in that? If the evil spirit ever assaults us with its temptations, we can elegantly sidestep it with thoughts of the exquisite heavenly gardens where we’ll be able to lord over things to our heart’s content, without having a bad conscience to spoil our fun. That way we can please both Allah, who will have prepared the gardens for us, and Sayyiduna, who will reward us by opening the gates that lead into them—and ourselves, because we can give free rein to our imagination without sinning.”

The novices approved loudly and in high spirits.

“You’re incredible, Obeida!” Yusuf exclaimed. “How come I didn’t think of that myself?”

“Obeida draws an ingenious conclusion,” ibn Tahir suggested. “Formally there’s nothing wrong with it. But in my opinion impure desires are still indecent, even if we set them in the framework of the heavenly gardens.”

“I think you’re upset you didn’t think of it yourself,” Obeida snapped.

“No, ibn Tahir is right,” Jafar said. “Sin is still sin, wherever you do it. You can’t get around as clear an injunction as Sayyiduna has given us with some trick.”

“You’re trying to spoil everything for us with your brooding,” Yusuf said angrily. “As far as I’m concerned, Obeida is right, and nobody can keep us from looking forward to the reward that’s going to be rightfully ours.”

“As you see fit,” Jafar observed and shrugged his shoulders.

In the evenings, when torches flickered in front of the supreme commander’s building, when the gurgling of Shah Rud could be heard in the distance, and when the evening horn sounded its call to prayer and bed, a painful melancholy would come over the novices. The day’s hard schooling with its demanding tasks and discipline was behind them, and their thoughts could roam free. Some of them sought solitude where they could indulge their feelings of homesickness, while others talked about what it was like out there, where life was completely different.

“I wish I were a bird,” Suleiman said one night. “I’d fly to see what my two sisters are doing. Our mother is dead, and father has two other wives who also have children. My sisters will be a burden to them, and I suspect they’ll treat them badly. They’ll want to get rid of them. I’m afraid they’ll
persuade my father to sell them to the first suitor who comes by. Oh, I can’t tell you how this is eating at me.”

He clenched his fists and buried his head in them.

“My mother is very old,” Yusuf said, brushing his heavy paw across his eyes. “She has a hard time tending the livestock and pastures, and I’m afraid the neighbors cheat her because she’s all alone. Why did I ever leave her?”

“That’s right, why?” ibn Tahir asked.

“It was her wish. She said to me, ‘You’re a strong Pahlavan, my son. The Prophet himself would be proud of you. And if your father, who cherished the martyr Ali more than anything in the world—if your father were still alive, he’d surely send you to study the true faith with one of the dais who serve the true caliph …’ At that time the grand dai Husein Alkeini was traveling through our area, recruiting for Our Master. I went to him and he sent me here, to Alamut.”

“And you, Naim, what brought you to the fortress?” ibn Tahir pursued.

“My village isn’t far from here,” Naim replied. “I heard that a powerful dai at Alamut was assembling an army to lead against the infidel sultan. Back home we were all true believers, so my father didn’t have any objection to my leaving to serve Sayyiduna.”

“And you, Suleiman?”

“What is there to say? People were saying there was going to be a war and that a grand dai who had caused a lot of miracles to happen had taken over Alamut in the name of the caliph of Egypt, and that he was planning to attack the sultan from there. ‘Things are going to happen here, Suleiman,’ I told myself. Dai Abdul Malik was traveling through our area and I joined him.”

“Our clan had always been faithful to Ali,” Obeida said. “There were nine of us brothers and someone had to leave home. I asked my father and he gave me his blessing.”

“How about you, Jafar?”

“I studied the Koran, the Sunna and the history of Islam scrupulously, and I realized that Ali had been wrongly deprived of the Prophet’s legacy, and that the caliph of Baghdad was unjustly occupying the regent’s throne. An Ismaili dai visited our area—it turned out to be our superior, Abu Soraka—and I had some learned discussions with him. I agreed with his teachings and I asked my father for permission to go with the missionary. When he heard that my teacher was headed for Alamut, to join Sayyiduna, he gladly consented. People were already saying about our supreme commander that he was a very holy man.”