Alamut (30 page)

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!”

She looked at Halima sharply.

“These are your dice, Halima. You’re a hopeless sinner. What am I going to do with you?”

She picked up the dice and took them away.

“Just this much for now,” she said.

Tears came to Halima’s eyes. She smiled defiantly and said, “I don’t care about the dice anyway, if you’re not going to let me win. It’s your fault for picking an argument.”

They continued with their work.

“I do think it would be nice,” Sara remarked, “if our visitors thought we were houris. That way they’d fall in love with us, don’t you think?”

Halima seized at this immediately.

“It’s a shame we don’t have the dice anymore. We could throw them to find out which one of us they’ll fall in love with most.”

“You’d just cheat again. It’s good Miriam took them away. I already know which one of us they’ll like best.”

“You think it’s you. It wouldn’t even occur to them.”

“What do you know about what men like, you innocent monkey! You’ll hide in a corner and nobody will even notice you.”

Tears streamed from Halima’s eyes.

“I’ll tell them what you’re like,” she said.

“Just try. They’ll die laughing.”

“You just wait. I’ll tell them you’re in love with me and you won’t leave me alone.”

Sara’s eyes flashed.

“You?!”

Halima got up.

“But it’s true!”

She laughed, wiped her tears away, and went to join another group.

The girls were gradually overcoming their fear of the dangerous task that awaited them. Lighthearted laughter mixed with the grating of scissors and knives.

“Tonight, when everything is lit up, it will really look like we’re in paradise,” Zuleika remarked. “I’m not afraid at all anymore. We’ll all be wearing veils, and we’ll be singing and dancing like real houris.”

“Sure, it’s easy for you. You’re pretty and you know how to dance,” Safiya sighed.

“You’re all pretty and you all know how to dance,” Miriam said.

“At least we’ll have a change from all this monotony,” Fatima said. “And we’ll be useful for something. All that work and studying would be wasted otherwise.”

“Will Sayyiduna really have us beheaded if we slip up?” Jafa still worried.

“No doubt about it,” Miriam said. “He does what he says he’ll do. So don’t be foolish. Think before you go blurting things out.”

“I don’t know, I’m not scared at all,” Fatima remarked.

“And what if one of us makes a mistake?” Safiya asked.

“Then one of the others will have to fix it,” Fatima explained.

“How do you mean, fix it?”

“Say, by turning it into a joke or shifting its meaning somehow.”

“I want to be next to you,” Jada said.

“Me too. Me too.”

They each voiced the same wish.

Fatima smiled at so much trust.

“Just don’t be too afraid, girls. When a person has to do something, she does it. I have a feeling everything’s going to go just fine.”

Whole stacks of lamps were already done.

“You see, you can make things work if you want them to,” Miriam praised them. “Now come with me. I want to show you something.”

She took them to a room that had always been kept carefully locked. She opened it. The girls’ eyes widened in astonishment.

What they saw was a warehouse full of clothing. Gowns made of silk and brocade, capes with sable linings, veils, beautifully braided sandals. All the most exquisite things that the bazaars of Samarkand and Bukhara, Kabul and Isfahan, Baghdad and Basra could offer were stacked high in this narrow space. Gold and silver diadems encrusted with jewels, pearl necklaces, gold bracelets and anklets covered with precious stones, fine turquoise jewelry, earrings with diamonds and sapphires, expensive chains—everything was here in abundance.

The girls could only gape.

“Whose is all this?” Halima asked.

“It’s all the property of Sayyiduna,” Miriam said.

“It’s true, Our Master is rich.”

“Richer than the sultan and the caliph.”

“All this is meant for you to use,” Miriam explained. “Each of you take whatever suits you best and keep it in your room.”

She had the girls start trying on the silken robes and veils. She draped heavy brocade capes around their shoulders and adorned them with rings, bracelets, anklets and earrings, passed out halters and sandals, and hung necklaces around their necks. She handed each of them an artfully crafted
metal mirror and a chest containing amber and scents. She fitted them with diadems, ribbons, small turbans and other head coverings.

The girls were swimming in luxury. Each of them felt like a fairy-tale princess.

“This way it won’t be hard at all to imagine we’re houris!” Halima exclaimed. Her cheeks shone with excitement.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Fatima said. “Eventually we’ll stop believing we’re ordinary girls.”

Halima pulled on a light veil. She put on a cape and then let it slip off her shoulders, as she’d seen Miriam wear hers when she came back from visiting Sayyiduna that night.

“My goodness, how beautiful she is!” Sara exclaimed.

Halima blushed.

“When our visitors come we probably won’t be dressed like this, will we?” she asked.

“Dummy! Why do you think you’re trying them on?” Miriam laughed.

“I’ll feel ashamed.”

Each one collected her finery and took it to her room.

Suddenly the horn sounded.

Apama came rushing in from the kitchen.

“Hurry everyone, get ready! Sayyiduna is coming.”

During this time Hasan had been having an extensive discussion with the grand dais in his chamber. He lit several lamps and drew curtains over the windows. A eunuch brought in a large jug of wine. The men dropped down on the pillows and the jug made a circuit from mouth to mouth.

Hasan began.

“I’ve had you summoned from Rudbar, Buzurg Ummid, to familiarize you and Abu Ali with my last will and testament. I had wanted Husein Alkeini to be here too, but events got ahead of me and Khuzestan is too far away for me to send for him. This concerns the principles of succession within our institution.”

Abu Ali laughed.

“You talk as though you were planning to bid the world farewell tomorrow. Why the hurry with this? Maybe Buzurg Ummid and I will bite the dust before you do.”

“You mentioned Husein Alkeini,” Buzurg Ummid remarked, “but what has happened to your son Hosein that you’ve forgotten about him? After all, he’s your natural heir.”

Hasan jumped to his feet as though he’d been bitten by a snake. He began pacing around the room and shouting.

“Don’t remind me of that oafish calf! My institution is founded on
reason, not on idiotic prejudices. Son! Son! What son? Do you expect me to dash my beautiful plan to pieces, to leave it to some idiot whom dumb luck made my son? I prefer to follow the example of the Roman church, which puts only its most capable in charge. Realms built on blood and kin soon go into decline. The institution of Rome has been standing for a thousand years! Sons? Brothers? In spirit you’re all my sons and brothers. It was spirit that conceived my plan.”

The grand dais almost took fright.

“If I had known I was going to upset you so much with my remark, I would have kept quiet,” Buzurg Ummid said. “But how was I to know that your views on kinship and succession were so … well, so unique?”

Hasan smiled. He was a little ashamed that he’d lost control.

“I also continued to put stock in blood relations when I came back from Egypt,” he replied, seemingly in apology. “They brought me my son, who was so beautiful and strong it was a joy to look at him. ‘I’ll see my own youth in him,’ I thought. I took him into my house and … how can I make you understand my disappointment? Where was that passion for finding the truth, where was that higher calling that shook my soul when I was his age? I couldn’t find even a trace of it in him. To begin with I told him, ‘The Koran is a book with seven seals.’ His response was, ‘It’s not up to me to unseal them.’ ‘But aren’t you just a little moved to discover a mystery known to only a few?’ ‘No, not even the slightest bit.’ I found this indifference incomprehensible. To stir him, I told him about the struggles of my youth. ‘And what has all your trouble gotten you?’ That was all the impression his father’s confessions made on him. In order to shock him, in order to jolt him out of his torpor, I decided to tell him our ultimate secret. ‘Do you know what our faith teaches as the highest wisdom?’ I called out to him. ‘Nothing is real, everything is permitted.’ He brushed it off. ‘I dealt with that when I was fourteen years old.’ The realization that I had struggled my whole life long to make, for whose ultimate confirmation I risked all dangers, visited all schools, studied all the philosophers—he had figured out and was done with by the age of fourteen. ‘Maybe he was born this wise,’ I thought. But he didn’t understand even the most elementary lessons of science. I was exasperated at so much dimwittedness. I handed him over to Husein Alkeini to serve as a foot soldier.”

The grand dais exchanged glances. Buzurg Ummid had been thinking of his son Mohammed, whom he loved dearly. Had he really been planning to send him to Hasan for schooling as a feday? He felt goose bumps down his spine.

Abu Ali asked, “Ibn Sabbah, earlier you said that our institution is based on reason. What exactly do you mean by that?”

Hasan clasped his hands behind his back and started pacing slowly back and forth.

“The concept of my rule isn’t entirely new,” he said. “Ninety years ago Caliph Hakim the First tried something similar in Cairo, when he proclaimed himself the personification of God. But apparently the self-willed distinction affected his reason. He went soft in the head and ended up believing in his divine origins. On the other hand, his dais left us with a legacy that’s all the more valuable. I’m thinking of our supreme motto, which Hakim made use of to support his doings.”

“Don’t you think, ibn Sabbah,” Abu Ali continued, “since so many people have found out about this principle of ours, that its value has depreciated?”

“There’s a strange double edge to the maxim that nothing is real and everything is permitted, as I just showed you with the pathetic example of my son. For those who by nature aren’t meant for it, all it means is a heap of empty words. But if someone is born for it, it can become the north star of his life. The Carmatians and Druzes, to which Hakim the First belonged, recognized nine grades that their novices had to fight their way through. Their dais courted new adherents with tales of Ali’s family and the coming of the Mahdi. Most of these converts were satisfied with simple legends like those. The more ambitious ones pressed the dais for more answers and were told that the Koran is a kind of wondrous metaphor for higher mysteries. Those who still weren’t satisfied had their faith in the Koran and Islam undermined by their teachers. If somebody wanted to press even further, he learned that all faiths are equal in their accuracy or inaccuracy. Until, finally, a small, elite handful was ready to learn the highest truth of all, based on the negation of all doctrines and traditions. That grade required the greatest courage and strength from a man. Because it meant that he would spend his whole life without any firm ground beneath his feet and with no support. So there’s no need to worry about our principle losing its effectiveness, even if a lot of people find out about it. Most of them won’t understand it anyway.”

“Now I see,” Abu Ali said. “Earlier you said you’d summoned us on account of your testament and the succession. What moved you to start thinking about those issues? You’re still strong and healthy.”

Hasan laughed. He continued to pace the room with deliberate steps. The grand dais followed him closely with their eyes.

“Nobody knows what the next day will bring,” he replied. “The testament I plan to leave behind is such that the one who executes it will have to familiarize himself thoroughly with certain details. And because I’ve chosen you and Husein Alkeini as my heirs, today I want to reveal the plan that will become the foundation of our institution at least to the two of you who are present. True, my idea is based in part on the experience of Hakim the First and the Roman church. But its real essence is entirely my own invention. Let me explain.”

He lay down near them and a kind of childlike smile played across his
face—the kind of smile that people have when they know what they have to say could make others laugh or even view them as crazy. Grinning like this, he spoke.