Vladimir Bartol - Alamut

“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.”

The girls trembled in fear. Everything was spinning before Jada’s eyes. She dropped down to her knees and passed out. Hasan pointed to her. Miriam ran for a jug of water and brought her to.

Hasan called Apama and Miriam aside.

“So, the three gardens are ready,” he said. “How are things going with the girls?”

“They’re all ready,” Apama replied.

“Good. In each of the gardens one of them is to be the leader and assume responsibility for success. Which are the bravest and most capable ones?”

“I would name Fatima first,” Miriam said. “She’s adroit and skilled in all the arts.”

“Fine. And after her?”

“I’d say Zuleika. She’s first in dancing and isn’t bad in other areas.”

“Excellent. She sounds made to order for Yusuf. Suleiman should get Fatima. The third one will be you, Miriam.”

Miriam went pale.

“You’re joking, ibn Sabbah.”

“Today’s not the time for jokes. It will be as I’ve said. Ibn Tahir is as quick as a snake, and if I trusted him to anybody else, he’d see through the deception.”

“Hasan!”

Tears welled up in Miriam’s eyes. For Apama, satisfaction battled with sympathy. She withdrew.

Hasan continued with mild irony.

“Who told me recently that nothing in the world gave her joy anymore, and that only some risky game could allay her terrible boredom?”