Mahmoud Dowlatabadi - Thirst

‘Words … word … sentence … what pleasure there is in plunging into a pool of wine, Major? What pleasure! Caliph … caliph … caliphs of Baghdad and … Bring his head for me! That vizier’s head, that Barmakid and his son! †That is, the head of his sister’s legal husband. The head of Yahya’s son … the vizier’s head … the one whose father, Yahya, was the most trusted key-keeper of the caliph’s harem. Bring his head to me this very night!’

‘The caliph has demanded your head, O Grand Vizier!’

‘I have guests and … see for yourself, Haris, ‡it is a special occasion!’

‘I can see … All eminent Arabs and distinguished personages from the countries under our control … but the Commander of the Faithful has ordered it thus!’

‘Any documentation … or a signet … or seal? An order must be in written form!’

‘But he is in a nocturnal feast … there were no scribes. You do understand … the order came on a night of revelry!’

‘What would you do if you were in my place, Haris? I have with me sword-wielders who are ready to serve. If you were in my place, would you surrender your head to the blade?’

‘What can I do? I’m just carrying out an order. You are a vizier and a wise man, you think of something. I’m devastated too. I have this job and earn my living thanks to you. I’m grateful to you. But what am I to do?’

‘We’ll think of something on the way!’

‘What should I do afterwards?’

‘We’ll see. The order was issued in a moment of rage. Before we reach the palace … maybe his wrath will abate. We will go together and stand outside the harem’s curtains … I will remain there behind the curtains, standing back, and you will step inside. You will say you have severed Barmak’s head from his body and ask for permission to present the head. On hearing this news, the caliph will react in one of two ways: either he will be angry at you for acting so precipitately, in which case he will call for your head, but before any blades can be unsheathed, I will enter and kiss the Commander of the Faithful’s feet to prevent him from exercising retribution upon you, and this will be the best outcome of this accursed order. For my death would result in his issuing the order for your death as well, since the caliph of Muslims could not leave alive the murderer of Yahya’s son. But if his anger doesn’t abate and he insists on killing Barmak the vizier, he will ask you to bring the head to him! In which case I will be standing here ready for your blade. Beheading can happen in the blink of an eye. You’ll come and fetch my head and put it on a tray and take it to him!’

‘Now I step in.’

‘But wait, let me tell you, alas … I wish you were an expert in the Arabic language and with a silver tongue could recount the services rendered by the grand Barmaki family to Commander of the Faithful and the Abbasid dynasty! But this is not in your power, for I know that you are a man of the blade and blood and not a man of words! So go. Tell them you have collected the head of Barmak the vizier and heed what the caliph of the Muslims has to say in response. I will also listen to what he says. And the head of Yahya’s son is ready for harvest, right here.’

‘Soldier! Take us to Ben Khalaf tavern … come on, man, you must have had a chance to take a quick catnap, so don’t look so befuddled! Turn around … use the alleys. We will enter through the tavern’s backdoor. Tonight is another kind of night! Tell me, Katib, tell me the rest. Did the executioner take the Ajam’s head off?’

‘He has not yet returned. And the yelps and squeals of the women plunging into water stop me from hearing the Commander of the Faithful’s voice. But … I remember that in the same harem a marriage was contracted between Abbasa and Barmak, a curtain hanging between the two all the while. On condition that they were allowed only to speak and never to see each other! But they were in love, Abbasa in particular, who was infatuated with the beauty and accomplishments and intelligence of Barmak the vizier. And Barmak had fallen in love with Abbasa’s voice, who while seated on the other side of the curtain read stories from the book of God to her brother. Barmak the vizier was always in the private company of Commander of the Faithful. Abbasa spoke eloquently and recited well. This pleased the caliph, who asked his sister to request something from him, to ask him for anything. Abbasa said she wanted Barmak the vizier. Very well! But only to speak to! Just to speak to? That was out of the question. Consummation? Yes … Barmak’s mother and father provided the opportunity for a secret consummation. Yahya the key-keeper opened the harem’s doors, and Yahya’s wife, on account of their previous friendship, welcomed Abbasa in her home. And Barmak is naturally allowed to visit his mother’s house, is he not? It was there that the seed of the Barmakids grew in the womb of Abbasids!’

‘And then what happened?’

‘They set off on the Hajj pilgrimage for fear of the caliph’s wrath. The infant was duly born in Mecca and crows brought the news to the caliph’s ears. On hearing this, the caliph of the Muslims set out for Mecca. Doves informed Abbasa that her brother was on his way, whereupon she put the infant on the water and sent it to Aden. The caliph descended upon Abbasa’s tent and looked into his sister’s eyes. From her eyes, tears of pleasure and consummation and birth flowed upon the lap of fear. The caliph broke off the pilgrimage and returned to Baghdad, where he ordered the executioner to cut off Vizier Barmak’s head and bring it to him.’

‘On a tray, immediately!’

‘This very instant, O Commander of the Faithful?’

‘Did I hear correctly, O Emir? I am to bring you the head of Barmak the vizier this very instant? Right now?’

‘You heard me correctly. This very instant, bring me that head, which is so full of ideas and wit, in this tub!’

‘Did you hear, Vizier?’

‘Yes. This, my head. Congratulations to my father and my mother, and my condolences to your wife and family, O Mirharis. Tonight we both become headless, since you will not live to see the light of morning either. So I have no messages for you to deliver! Dove … that dove will carry my message to people’s hearts. In this city I observed the ancient Iranian ceremony of Norouz.’

‘And that child, what was the fate of that child, Katib?’

‘I am that child, Major!’

‘You’re the child?’

‘I told you, Major. I told you a while ago, that there is a child inside people like me. What I write is what that child narrates. Do you understand me?’

‘Yes, I do! So you’re that very same Barmakid child, are you?’

‘No, no, by “child” I don’t mean a particular child. The child within me cannot do or say anything that is wrong … or write anything … how can I explain it? It cannot shoot a captive, that one who was shot and thrown out of the trench, that was out of the control of my inner child.’

‘What captive? What shooting? What trench? Tonight is the night of forgetting … so let’s drink again and walk in the dark until morning … and while we’re walking, we’ll talk in such a way that maybe we will begin to understand one another. To be honest, I haven’t understood a single word of what you’ve said so far. I just assume you’ve been telling me a story that I have not the slightest recollection of. Not that I’m saying I’ve been robbed of my senses under the influence of alcohol and revelry. Not at all! But nothing else sticks in my mind, because it’s focused on one subject, and one subject alone. And while this single subject remains unresolved, the only thing I can think of is that you have Ajam blood in your veins, namely that our katib is a descendant of Barmak, and so has Ajam sympathies. And so our katib’s pro-Ajam prejudice is stopping him from writing and compiling a true account which agrees with our records! Did you pay attention to what I just said? Do you realize that wine does not have any effect on my brain? I wanted to speak with you in the most deserted alleyways of this old city so that you’d have no more opportunities to obfuscate or change the subject. If you don’t imagine that I’m saying this while I’m fully conscious and alert, well then, let me recite the key dates from your dossier from memory, starting from when you were fifteen years old right up to today. You weren’t even fifteen years old at the time of the Abd al-Karim coup d’état against the Faisal clan, isn’t this right? And you — your entire family — were living in Alemare at the time. And you, a Barmakid teenager, became an ardent follower of Abd al-Karim!’