Vladimir Bartol - Alamut

The grand dais instinctively stepped several paces back. So that was the core of this strange man, that was the “madness,” that burning conviction that had unerringly led him to the point where he now stood? So he secretly really did see himself as a prophet? And all his philosophizing was just a decoy for the minds of doubters? And maybe for himself as well? So that in his faith he was closer in spirit to his fedayeen than to the Ismaili leaders?

“So you believe in a god?” Buzurg Ummid asked in an almost timid voice.

“As I have said.”

An enormous abyss opened up between them.

The grand dais bowed in parting.

“Carry out your duties. You are my successors.”

He smiled at them in farewell, as a father smiles at his children.

Once they were out in the corridor, Abu Ali exclaimed, “What material for Firdausi!”

“That brings the fourth act of our tragedy to a close,” Hasan said to himself when he was alone again.

That evening he summoned Obeida, Jafar and Abdur Ahman to see him. Abu Soraka conveyed his order to the three of them.

This occasioned a ferment throughout the quarters of the fedayeen. When Obeida heard what awaited him, his brown face went ashen. He looked around like a wild animal seeking a way to escape from some looming danger.

Abdur Ahman was afraid too.

“Why on earth has Sayyiduna summoned us?” he wondered.

“Most likely he’s planning to send you to paradise, now that Suleiman, Yusuf and ibn Tahir are gone,” ibn Vakas replied.

“Are we going to have to jump off a tower or stab ourselves too?”

“You’ll have to ask Sayyiduna that.”

Jafar received the order with calm obedience.

“Allah is master over our life and death,” he said. “And Sayyiduna is his representative.”

Abu Ali met them in front of the building of the supreme command and led them up the tower to Hasan.

After Abu Soraka informed the fedayeen of their appointment, he anxiously sought out Manuchehr. He found him atop the wall, in the midst of inspecting some pitch vats. He called him aside.

“What do you think, Emir, about the death of the two fedayeen?”

“Sayyiduna is a powerful master, my friend.”

“Do you agree with what he’s doing?”

“That’s something I don’t think about, and I advise you to do the same.”

“But are these methods going to make us a match for the sultan’s army?”

“Only Sayyiduna knows that. All I know is that we couldn’t hold out against them for long with just the forces at hand.”

“All this still makes me shudder.”

“Somebody else may be experiencing the same shudder. Emir Arslan Tash, for instance.”

“So you think Sayyiduna achieved his goal?”

“Something tells me we can put our trust in him. The things we experienced today at Fortress Alamut have never happened before in all of history.”

Abu Soraka left him, shaking his head. He went looking for the doctor to ask his opinion too.

First the Greek looked around to make sure no one was close by. Then he stepped up to Abu Soraka and whispered to him.

“My dear, venerable dai! Today I cursed the moment I was released from a Byzantine jail. Because everything we saw in this castle today with these eyes of ours goes far beyond any Greek tragedian’s most fervid fantasies. The scene that our supreme commander deigned to show us this morning was served up with such exquisite horror that it could be the sincere envy of the Prince of Hell himself. Ice goes down my spine when I think that I could have been the recipient of his heavenly delights on the other side of Alamut’s walls.”

Abu Soraka went pale.

“Do you think he’s going to send us into the gardens behind the castle?”

“How should I know, old friend? In any case, the knowledge that the gates to that paradise of his are open night and day should be cold comfort for any of us who have the honor of living in this fortress.”

“It’s horrible! It’s horrible!” Abu Soraka murmured, wiping the cold sweat from his brow with his sleeve. “The one good thing is that our families are with Muzaffar.”

“Yes, indeed,” the Greek nodded. Abu Soraka didn’t notice him sneering behind his back as he walked away.

In the gardens everything had long since been made ready for a second visit. When the girls heard that this evening had been chosen for it, they grew festive. Yes, now they knew what their purpose was. Love was their calling, and that didn’t at all seem like the worst thing that could happen to them. Far from it.

Their only worry was for Halima. She cherished her memories of Suleiman with true devotion. She saw him as her master, and in private would ask just him for advice in all kinds of matters. She grew solitary. Alone, she could feel his presence and talk to him. Many times the others heard her whispering to herself, and a few times they saw her laugh charmingly or with abandon, as though she were actually having a conversation with someone else. At first they tried to persuade her that Suleiman might not come back. But when they realized that she thought their hints were motivated by meanness or mischievousness, they let her keep believing.

When she learned that youths would be coming that night, she shook like a reed in the wind. The color left her cheeks. She fell to the ground and passed out.

“Good God!” Miriam exclaimed. “What are we going to do with her?”

“Sayyiduna gave you permission not to be with the boys,” Zuleika told her. “Ask him to make the same exception for her.”

“She’ll think we’re intentionally trying to separate her from Suleiman,” Fatima objected. “Then she’ll really do something to herself.”

“How could she have gotten it into her head that Suleiman was ever coming back?” Rokaya asked.

“She’s in love with him. He said he’d come back and she believes that. In her eyes he’s a greater prophet than Sayyiduna.”

This was how Fatima replied.

Meanwhile, the girls had managed to bring Halima to. Halima looked at the girls, perplexed. When she remembered the news, a deep blush came to her face. She got up and ran to her room to get ready.

“I’ll tell her everything,” Miriam said.

“She won’t believe you,” Zuleika replied. “I know her. She’s stubborn, and she’ll decide we’re keeping Suleiman from her.”

“But it will break her heart if she sees someone else in his place.”

“Let her get used to it, like we’ve had to,” Sara said.

“Halima is different. I’ll ask Sayyiduna.”

“No, Miriam,” Fatima said. “Let’s work with Halima, instead. Maybe she’ll adjust.”

They went into her bedroom.

Halima was sitting in front of the mirror, adorning herself and smiling. Her brow knit when she noticed her companions. It made her angry that they were interrupting her in the midst of such beautiful thoughts.

Seeing this made Miriam’s heart ache.

“You talk to her,” she whispered to Fatima.

“Are you looking forward to tonight’s visit?”

“Leave me alone. Don’t you see I have to get ready?”

“Listen, Halima,” Miriam said. “Every visitor comes to our gardens only once. Do you understand that?”

Ahriman came through the doorway and started sniffing around Halima.

“Chase them out of here, Ahriman. They’ve gotten mean.”

“What Miriam is saying is absolutely true,” Fatima said.

“Will you get out of here?”

“You’re bull-headed,” Sara said angrily.

They left her bedroom.

“She doesn’t believe it,” Zuleika said.

“No. She doesn’t believe you, Miriam,” Fatima added.

Apama arrived with a strict order from Sayyiduna for each of the girls to change or swap names. None of them could make a mistake this evening.