Alamut (32 page)

Hasan smiled enigmatically. He continued.

“I was an enterprising, hot-blooded fellow and didn’t know of a thing or a power that could hold me back if I had a passion. The prince had acquired Apama, and it was at his place that I won her heart. We would meet in his gardens late at night and enjoy the delights of paradise in forbidden embraces. In no time she had completely ensnared her master. Once, when I told her about the curiosity that had been tormenting me, she wrung the secret from him. The substance in those little balls is called hashish, or hashash, and it’s produced precisely from the Indian hemp you see in that flower bed.”

They held close to the shed, which was protecting them from the heat of the sun. When Hasan had finished, all three of them remained silent for a while. Abu Ali wrinkled his brow and stared at the ground. Buzurg Ummid gazed out at the mountainside. At last he spoke.

“I’m beginning to see what you’re actually aiming at. I suppose that you plan to use the sap of this plant to incite wild fervor in our believers, awaken in them a passion for renewed pleasure, and in this way enslave their will.”

“And you expect some particular benefit from that?” Abu Ali grumbled. “By taking away their ashash, or whatever it’s called, you expect to influence their personalities in a way that sends them rushing into death? I’m sorry, that strikes me as a miscalculation. Even if they couldn’t live without this narcotic, there’s no law that says they have to sacrifice themselves the way you want. At your age you really could have spared yourself this little experiment. That you would expect them to believe that those little balls take them
to paradise is beyond my comprehension. So instead, let’s discuss like grown men how we’re going to move against the sultan’s huge army, which is drawing closer every day.”

“I second everything you’ve said,” Hasan said with a sly smile. “Concerning the might of the enemy that’s approaching, we have two choices. Either we can quickly throw a caravan together and try to escape to Africa, as the wise Muzaffar advised us, or we can rely on a miracle. As you know, I’ve decided in favor of the miracle. But there’s still time to reconsider.”

“By Mohammed’s beard!” Abu Ali shouted. “With you an honest Muslim never knows where he stands. I’d like to hear you speak directly for once.”

“Fine, I’ll give it a try. Didn’t I mention to you a while ago that I not only have the key to paradise up here, but that I can also watch what’s going on in paradise? You already know what’s on this side of the tower. But haven’t you ever had the urge to see what’s on that side? Go ahead, step up to the battlements.”

The grand dais hurried quickly to the edge of the terrace. They leaned out over the battlements so they could look down. They were struck dumb with astonishment. They saw beneath them, as on a huge map, lovely groves and gardens in full blossom. Two arms of the river embraced them in a huge arc. Canals cut through and divided them, so that they were surrounded by water on all sides, like islands. Pebble-strewn paths shone white across them. Amid stands of cypresses, glass-covered pavilions glinted like crystal palaces. Round fish ponds with fountains were set inside them. Running around one of these were little creatures that seemed as buoyant as butterflies.

“A miracle, a real miracle,” Buzurg Ummid whispered at last.

“The poet of the
Thousand and One Nights
would be envious,” Abu Ali agreed.

Hasan rose and joined them. A satisfied expression came across his face.

“Imagine that you were with me at that prince’s house in Kabul,” he said. “You’ve swallowed the balls of hashish, you’ve experienced alongside of me all those wonderful delights of the spirit that I described to you, and now you’ve lost consciousness. Then you wake up, and you’re no longer in the dark room where you fell asleep. Instead you’re in these gardens below, surrounded by beautiful maidens ready to serve you in precisely the ways described in the Koran. What would you think?”

“You’re incredible, ibn Sabbah!” Abu Ali exclaimed. “If I were young and inexperienced, by the beard of the martyr Ali, I’d think I’d really wandered into the gardens of paradise.”

“But how and when did you create all of this?” Buzurg Ummid asked.

“The kings of Daylam who built Alamut also laid the foundations of these gardens. The castle’s later owners neglected them. They vanished in
an overgrowth of grasses and vines. Apparently my predecessor, the noble Mehdi, didn’t even know how to get to them. But I had heard some rumors about them, and since the notion of using gardens like this had long since occurred to me, I put all my effort into getting the castle. Then I measured and calculated everything myself. I drew up a precise plan, and when the eunuchs came from Egypt, I carried it out with them. So, piece by piece I created this paradise. Apart from the eunuchs and me, the two of you are the only ones in the castle who know about it.”

“Aren’t you afraid the eunuchs could betray you?” Buzurg Ummid asked.

“You don’t know them, these eunuchs of mine,” Hasan replied. “They talk to no one but me. Their commander, Captain Ali, is blindly faithful to me. Besides that, each of them knows that if he blurted anything out, it would be his death sentence. I depend on them.”

“Don’t you think that the victims your paradise is meant for will see through your deception?”

Abu Ali gave Hasan a cunning glance.

“That’s why I’ve chosen youths who haven’t yet tasted love with a woman. There’s no one more gullible than a boy like that. Because only a woman can turn a male into a whole man. She confers knowledge on him, makes it possible for him to mature. He loses his spiritual innocence together with his physical innocence. This is why everything drives a boy toward that fateful event. Blinded by this unfamiliar passion, he’s ready to believe in anything just to attain his goal.”

“And who are these youths?”

Hasan smiled. He looked at him without responding.

“The fedayeen?”

“Your words.”

A chilly silence fell over the tower. The grand dais gazed down into the gardens. Hasan watched them with a kind of indulgent scorn.

“Can’t you speak?” he asked. “Yesterday we lost twenty-six of our men in battle with the sultan’s vanguard. If we take on the main force of his army, we’re all finished. All I need is several heroes who will make the kings and rulers of the whole world tremble. I summoned you today to show you how these men are going to be trained. Tonight you’ll join me for an experiment in altering human nature. Abu Ali, you know the fedayeen. Name the three of them who are most different from each other in terms of their abilities and character. We first have to test what kind of person is most useful to our purposes. Three gardens are waiting for their visitors.”

Abu Ali looked at Hasan and went pale.

“How do you mean, ibn Sabbah?”

“Bring me three fedayeen with completely different personalities.”

Abu Ali stared at him, unable to get a word out.

“I’ll help you. Who was the stalwart who attacked the Turks first?”

“Suleiman.”

“Who is the strongest in the group?”

“Yusuf.”

“Ibn Tahir will make three. I’m particularly curious about him. If he doesn’t see through it, nobody will.”

Buzurg Ummid broke out in a cold sweat. He recalled wanting to send his son Mohammed to the school for fedayeen as a way of demonstrating his unwavering trust in Hasan. Now he only wanted to get him as far away from Alamut as possible. He would send him to Syria or Egypt.

Hasan looked at them askance with concealed derision.

“Have you got a bone stuck in your throats?” he said. “Don’t get scared prematurely. I’ll provide you with such an argument for my actions that you’ll be the envy of any classical lover of wisdom. Now to my wardrobe! We’re going to deck ourselves out and go visit my paradise like real kings.”

He led them into a smaller space next to his room. Two eunuchs had laid out clothes. Hasan retained one of them and told the other to go give the inhabitants of the gardens a sign that Sayyiduna was approaching.

Wordlessly and with the help of the eunuch, the three of them changed clothes. They pulled on cloaks of heavy white brocade. Hasan draped a scarlet cape around his shoulders, and the grand dais put on blue ones. The capes were edged in precious white fur. Hasan set a gold tiara with various embedded jewels on his head. The grand dais put on turbans, with gold, conical caps in the middle. Hasan put on gold sandals, his companions, silver ones. They strapped on long, curved sabers with intricately carved handles. Then they returned to the commander’s room.

“By the beard of the martyr Ali,” Abu Ali exclaimed when they were alone. “Decked out like this I could actually start believing I was a king.”

“I’m going to make you more powerful than any king,” Hasan said.

He beckoned them into the chamber that he normally used to descend to the bottom of the tower alone. He gave a signal and they suddenly started to sink. Abu Ali started waving his arms and almost pulled his companions down.

“Damned magic!” he cursed when the first fright had passed. “You’re not thinking of taking us into hell?”

“You surround yourself with things that make a person feel downright haunted,” Buzurg Ummid said.

“There’s nothing unusual about this machine,” Hasan explained. “It was invented by Archimedes. Its essence is a pulley mechanism, such as you often find at desert wells.”

A detachment of the commander’s bodyguard was waiting for them
in the vestibule. The soldiers were wearing armor and helmets and were armed from head to foot. Strapped around their waists was a sword, over their shoulder they held a mace, and in the other hand was a heavy spear. Drummers and trumpeters walked ahead of them.

They lowered the bridge and crossed over into the gardens, where they were greeted by eunuchs and ferried along the canals to the central garden.

The girls rushed to their bedrooms and quickly prepared for their audience. They changed clothes and put on various adornments. Then they assembled in front of the building. They were terribly excited. Some of them were shaking from head to toe. Miriam arranged them in a broad semicircle and calmed them down. Apama, beside herself, was running back and forth in front of them and desperately grabbing at her head.

“Look at them! Just look at them!” she sighed. “They’ll be the ruin of me. What will Sayyiduna say? He’s such a strict and exacting master.”

Suddenly she came to a stop in front of Halima.

“O all the Prophets and Martyrs! Look at you, Halima! One pant leg down to your heels and the other barely covering your knee.”

Frightened, Halima quickly adjusted her clothes.

Some of the girls looking at Apama began to grin. She had done a poor job of fastening her pant belt, leaving half her belly visible. Miriam went over to her and quietly brought her attention to the mistake.

“I knew it! They’ll ruin me.”

She ran into the building and adjusted things there. She came back with an expression of great dignity.

The boats landed and Hasan disembarked with his entourage. The eunuchs arranged themselves four abreast, drums beat, and horns and trumpets sounded.

“Whoever is addressed by Sayyiduna, kneel and kiss his hand!” Apama whispered angrily.

“Should we fall to our knees when he appears?” Fatima asked.

“No,” Miriam replied. “Just bow deeply and stay there until he orders you to straighten up.”

“I’m going to faint, I know it,” Halima whispered to Jada.

Jada said nothing. She was pale and swallowing hard.

Along the way, Hasan and his retainers inspected the gardens.

“Neither Khosrow nor Bahram Gur installed such luxurious gardens,” Buzurg Ummid observed.

“Nushirvan could have learned from you,” Abu Ali remarked.

Hasan smiled.

“These are all just preparations, means to the end that we’re planning to test this evening.”

They reached the middle of the garden and caught sight of the girls gathered in their semicircle in front of the building. Apama and Miriam stood in front of them. They gave a sign and the girls all bowed to the waist at one time.

“That old woman is the famous Apama,” Hasan said to his friends and laughed.

“Such is the end of worldly fame,” Abu Ali sighed quietly and with a slight sneer.

“Enough bowing!” Hasan proclaimed. “Greetings!”

Apama and Miriam approached him and kissed his hand.

Now Hasan and his friends inspected the girls.

“What do you think, will this look enough like paradise?”

“If anybody had sent me among houris like these when I was young, I wouldn’t have needed that ashash of yours to believe in paradise,” Abu Ali grumbled in response.

“It’s true, all perfect beauties,” Buzurg Ummid remarked.

The musicians fell silent, and Hasan signaled that he was about to speak.

“Girls from our gardens,” he began. “Your superiors have taught you what we expect from you. We will tell you right now that we will know no mercy for any one of you who violates our commandments. But to all of you who faithfully carry them out, we will be merciful and magnanimous. This morning our army defeated the sultan’s forces, which are in service to the false caliph. The whole castle has celebrated the victory with us. We have come to give you a treat as well. Wine and other delicacies will be made available to you. But we have also decided to send you the three young heroes who most distinguished themselves in yesterday’s battle. Welcome them as your husbands and lovers! Be gentle with them and deny them no kindness. We are granting them this favor at the command of Allah. One night God’s messenger came for us and led us through the seven heavens to the throne of God. ‘Ibn Sabbah, our prophet and vicar,’ the Lord said. ‘Take a good look at our gardens. Then return to earth and build an exact replica of them behind your castle. Gather young beauties in them and in my name command them to behave as houris. Into these gardens you will send the most valiant
heroes who have fought for the just cause. As a reward, let them believe that we have received them into our dwelling place. For it is given to no one, save the Prophet and you, to cross over into our domain during his lifetime. But because your gardens will be identical to ours, the visitors to them will be deprived of nothing, if they believe. When they die, a resumption of those joys will await them in our realm for all eternity.’ Thus spoke the Lord, and we have carried out his order. We expect that you will behave toward your visitors like real houris. For only if that happens will their reward be complete. There are three of these heroes: Yusuf, fearsome to enemies, good to his friends. Suleiman, handsome as Suhrab, bold as a lion. Ibn Tahir, brilliant as Farhad, solid as bronze. And a poet, as well. Yesterday these three seized the enemy’s flag. Yusuf cleared the way, Suleiman attacked, ibn Tahir reached for it. They are deserving that we send them to paradise. If you should reveal yourselves and disillusion them, you will be beheaded this night. This is my immutable will.”