Authors: Vladimir Bartol
And so on the day when the three new units were sworn in, instead of the noisy celebration that everyone expected, Abu Ali read aloud a series of new laws and regulations.
“The death penalty applies to anyone who opposes an officer; to anyone who fails to carry out an order, unless prevented from so doing by a higher power; to anyone who kills another Ismaili premeditatedly or in a fit of passion; to anyone who speaks disrespectfully of the supreme commander or criticizes him; to anyone who drinks wine or any other intoxicating drink; to anyone who indulges in debauchery.”
Strict corporal and moral punishments were also decreed for those who indulged in worldly entertainments; who produced or listened to fine music; who danced or enjoyed the dancing of others; who read corrupting books or listened to others reading from them.
New ranks were introduced into the hierarchy itself. Regional dais were established between dais and grand dais. Every able-bodied believer was automatically a soldier. A special school was established for the refiqs who were to educate them. A new curriculum was devised for all of the men. In addition to military arts, they would be required to study dogma and Ismaili history.
Henceforth the fedayeen received independent assignments that corresponded to each individual’s abilities. Jafar became the regular express messenger between Alamut and Muzaffar in Rai. Naim taught the new recruits dogma, ibn Tahir taught them history and geography, and Yusuf and Suleiman trained fedayeen novices in the military arts. Every morning they led them out of the castle to the plateau, as Manuchehr had once done. Cunning Obeida became the leader of a small unit of scouts and kept track of the movements of the sultan’s army with their help. Abdur Ahman, ibn Vakas, Abdallah and Halfa were assigned to him as assistants, and soon they knew every footpath between Qazvin, Rai and Alamut. Within no time they guessed the intentions of Emir Arslan Tash, who had split his forces between Qazvin and Rai in order to cut Alamut off from the rest of the world completely and trap it in the foothills of the Elburz Mountains, across which there was no escaping.
The captured Turks, nearly all of them heavily wounded, were treated well, to their considerable surprise. Under the skilled hands of the doctor and his assistants, their wounds healed quickly. They spent the days in their
quarters, but in the evenings they came out to take in the cool air in a caged area behind one of the barracks.
The medics and the soldiers who brought them food and water came to engage them in conversation more and more often. The prisoners listened wide-eyed to tales about the fedayeen who had spent a night in paradise, and about the unprecedented power that Allah had given to Sayyiduna. They were amazed by the Ismailis’ unwavering faith in victory. They asked them about the evidence and causes of that confidence. The answer was always the same: that Sayyiduna was a great prophet who would come to rule over the Islamic world.
Occasionally this or that dai, or even Abu Ali himself, visited the prisoners. He would ask them about particulars of the sultan’s army, but also about their education and religious convictions. He would explain Ismaili doctrine, with the help of which their commander was going to establish the rule of justice and truth on earth. This, but even more the candor and good treatment, had the effect of shaking their convictions and creating fertile ground in them for the acceptance of Ismaili teachings.
Hasan ordered the release of those prisoners who, because of wounds, had had to have an arm or a leg amputated or were otherwise severely crippled. He wanted them to tell their comrades in the sultan’s army about Alamut and the Ismaili faith and thus imperceptibly undermine their resolve. They prepared litters for them on camels, and an armed guard escorted them to Qazvin, where they were given free passage.
Although Suleiman and Yusuf had slept well the first night after their visit to the gardens, toward evening on the following day they began to feel unusually anxious. They were both irritable, they felt as though something were missing, and they couldn’t go to sleep. Each of them took a separate walk through the trenches and eventually met there.
“I’m thirsty,” Yusuf said.
“There’s enough water in Shah Rud.”
“You’re welcome to drink that.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve gotten addicted to wine.”
Suleiman sneered at him, and Yusuf glowered back.
“The trumpet has already sounded lights out.”
“Why are you telling me that? You go ahead.”
They sat down on the battlements and listened to the roar of the river for a while without speaking.
“I sense that you want to tell me something.”
Suleiman asked the question half mockingly, half out of curiosity.
Yusuf kept testing the waters.
“Don’t you miss anything?”
“Talk plainly. What’s bothering you?”
“I feel like I’ve got embers moving through my guts. My head aches. I’m unbearably thirsty.”
“So why won’t you drink some water?”
“I do, over and over, and it’s like I’m drinking air. I’m still thirsty.”
“I know. It’s those damned pellets. If I could have one now, I’d calm down again.”
“Do you think Sayyiduna is going to send us back to paradise soon?”
“How should I know? When I think of that night, I get so feverish I could melt.”
A guard walked past carrying a torch. They crouched behind a battlement.
“Let’s go. We can’t let them catch us here,” Suleiman said.
Cautiously they crept into their sleeping quarters.
Their comrades were already asleep. Only ibn Tahir was half-upright in bed. He appeared to be listening in on something. He gave a start when he noticed the two coming in.
“Not asleep yet?” Suleiman asked.
“Same as the two of you.”
The latecomers undressed and lay down in their beds. It was stuffy and hot in the room, and they were infernally thirsty.
“Phew, damned sorcery,” Suleiman muttered and turned over on his other side with a sigh.
“Too many memories to sleep?” ibn Tahir asked.
“I could use some wine now.”
“Are the two of you not planning to sleep at all tonight?”
Yusuf’s voice sounded gruff.
“Maybe you think you are?”
Suleiman taunted him angrily. He felt ready to jump out of his skin.
The next morning they all felt as though they had lead weights on their arms and legs.
Abu Soraka assigned each of the fedayeen his own area of responsibility. Within a few days they moved to new quarters at the base of one of the two front towers. New recruits were billeted in their former quarters.
Now they were sleeping two and three to a room. Yusuf shared a room with Obeida and ibn Vakas, ibn Tahir shared one with Jafar, and Suleiman was with Naim.
Every morning ibn Tahir set out for school with profound melancholy in his heart. He looked at the novices—hadn’t he been one of them himself just yesterday?—and it pained him to think that all of that was so far behind him and that he could never again be like them. An insurmountable wall rose up
now between him and them. He would listen to their carefree chatter with a sad smile.
The sleepless nights eventually drained the freshness out of his cheeks. His face became sunken and his eyes gazed out absently and gloomily.
“Ibn Tahir, one of the ones who were in paradise,” the soldiers would whisper to each other if they caught sight of him. Yesterday an inconspicuous student, today a powerful hero whose name caused young hearts to race. Once he had wished he could be this famous. Now he didn’t care. Sometimes the admiring glances even bothered him. He wanted to get away from everybody, he wanted to escape into solitude, where he could be alone with his thoughts, and with Miriam.
Yes, Miriam was the great secret that separated him from all of these novices and even from his comrades. How many times had he dreamed of her, when he was fortunate enough to be able to fall asleep. He had the feeling she was ever-present, and because of this all company bothered him. Sometimes, when he was all alone, he would close his eyes. He would be back in the pavilion as he’d been that night, with Miriam bending over him. He saw her so vividly and registered all the details around her so precisely, that it was hellish torture not to be able to touch her. Indeed, he suffered no less than the unfortunate Farhad, separated from Shirin by Khosrow Parviz. Frequently he was afraid he might go mad …
By day Suleiman and Yusuf took some comfort in their fame. The first thing in the morning they would ride out of the castle at the head of their unit, and faces full of admiration would watch as they passed by.
But the irritability caused by their sleepless nights found its outlet precisely in the novices. Yusuf would roar like a lion when things weren’t going as he wanted them to. But the novices soon found out that Suleiman’s sharp, suppressed outbursts were far more dangerous. He often derided them for their mistakes. His laughter had the effect of a whiplash. Yusuf was generous with his explanations. He liked to be asked questions and then be able to answer them. All he needed was for them to show fear and respect when they approached him. But asking Suleiman a question was as good as risking a terrible slap in the face.
That is how they were by day. But as evening approached, they fell victim to fear and anxiety. They knew they were going to have to face another sleepless night.
Once Suleiman said to Yusuf and ibn Tahir, “I can’t take this any longer. I’m going to go see Sayyiduna.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
Yusuf was terrified.
“It doesn’t work that way, Suleiman,” ibn Tahir replied. “You’ve just got to bear with it, the same as us.”
Suleiman flew into a rage.
“But I’m not made out of wood! I’m going to go see him and tell him everything. Either he’ll give me some assignment that takes me back to paradise, or I’ll strangle myself with my own hands!”
His eyes flashed like an animal’s. He rolled them so that their whites showed and he gnashed his teeth furiously.
The next morning he asked Abu Soraka to permit him to go see Abu Ali.
“What’s your business with him?”
“I’ve got to talk to him.”
“What about? Some sort of complaint, maybe?”
“No. I want to ask him to give me an assignment.”
“You’ll get your assignment when the time comes, not by asking for it.”
“But I have to speak to Abu Ali.”
Abu Soraka noticed the crazed glint in his eyes.
Let them have a taste of their own cooking
, he thought to himself.
“Since you’re so insistent about this, I’ll refer your request to the grand dai.”
Abu Ali sensed something unpleasant when he heard that Suleiman wanted to speak with him.
“Wait,” he ordered Abu Soraka.
He went to Hasan and asked his advice.
“Talk to him,” Hasan said. “Then report back to me. We may learn something really interesting.”
Abu Ali waited for Suleiman in the great assembly hall. They were alone in the huge room.
“What’s on your mind, my dear Suleiman, that you wish to speak to me?”
Suleiman lowered his eyes.
“I wanted to ask you, reverend grand dai, to take me to see Sayyiduna.” Abu Ali was clearly nonplussed.
“Of all the things to ask for! Sayyiduna labors from morning to night for our well-being. Do you want to steal time away from him? I’m his deputy. Everything you wanted to tell him you can tell me now.”
“It’s difficult … He’s the only one who has the cure I need.”
“Speak up. I’ll relay everything to him.”
“I can’t stand it anymore. I want an assignment that will open the gates of paradise to me again.”
Abu Ali reflexively took a step backward. For a moment he caught Suleiman’s eyes. They were burning like fire.
“You’re mad, Suleiman. Do you realize that what you’re asking is practically rebellion? And that rebellion is punishable by death?”
“Better to die than suffer like this.”
Suleiman had murmured these words, but Abu Ali understood him.
“Go now. I’ll give this some thought. There may be help waiting for you sooner than you think.”
When Abu Ali returned, Hasan looked at him inquiringly.
“He wants you to give him an assignment so he can go back to paradise. He says he can’t bear it anymore.”
Hasan smiled.
“I wasn’t mistaken,” he said. “The poison and the gardens are having their effect. Soon it will be time for the final experiment.”
One night the incessant frustration eclipsed Suleiman’s mind. He got up, went over to Naim’s bed and sat down on it. Naim woke up and caught sight of the figure sitting at his feet. By its outline he recognized it as Suleiman. Instinctively he felt afraid.
“What’s wrong, Suleiman?”
Suleiman didn’t answer him. He stared at him motionlessly. His pale, sunken face shone through the semidarkness. Gradually Naim made out its expression and was terrified.
With a sudden movement Suleiman yanked the blanket off of him.
“Show me your breasts!”
Naim was petrified with fear. Suleiman grabbed him by the chest.
“Oh, Halima, Halima!” he moaned.
“Help me!”
Naim’s shout echoed madly through the night.
Guards’ footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway.
Suleiman started awake.
“By Allah! I’ll strangle you if you give me away. You were dreaming!”
He quickly disappeared back into his bed.
A guard walked in.
“Did you call out, Naim?”
“Yes. I had a terrible dream.”
The guard went away.
Naim got up and pulled the blanket off his bed.
“Why are you leaving?”
Suleiman gave him a piercing look.
“I’m afraid of you, Suleiman.”
“Idiot! Get back into your bed this instant and go to sleep. I’m sleepy too.”
The next morning Naim asked Abu Soraka to assign him to different quarters. He’d prefer not to sleep in the same room as Suleiman.
“Why not?”
Naim shrugged. His face was pale and diminutive.
Abu Soraka didn’t press the issue.
It’s best I know as little as possible about these things
, he thought. He granted his request and sent Abdur Ahman to room with Suleiman.