Robert Irwin - Prayer-Cushions of the Flesh

‘I believe that I was present at the death of the last peri. The Queen of the peris was stronger and more cunning than most of her subjects and she had hitherto escaped the murderous cats. Azrael and I came across her in one of the flower beds that runs along the edge of the hammam. This Azrael was a rare blue Persian and the grandfather of the cat you saw in my room and he was the best of the hunters — indeed the Angel of Death. I saw the reflection of the peri Queen, sheltering under a rose petal, in the dilation of Azrael’s pupils before I actually saw her running amongst the shrubs and then trying to shin up the wall of the hammam, clinging to its rough surface like a lizard. Azrael had pounced and missed twice on the ground, for she was as fast as mercury, but, once she started climbing, she slowed somewhat and that was her doom. The cat swiped at her with his paw, caught her and played with her a bit, before eating her.’

‘With the peris gone, I was calm once more. The concubines pined somewhat for their vanished little friends and they hated the cats at first, but in time they came to love them — exceedingly so. Things returned to normal in the Harem and it was like a fever that had passed. But you know the saying, ‘Three things are insatiable: the desert, the grave and a woman’s vulva’. The next thing was that I started hearing strange talk about prayer-cushions.’

Emerald paused at a door.

‘Let us go in here. I have something to show you.’

‘Emerald, we should hurry on to the hammam.’

‘This will only take a moment,’ he replied reassuringly. ‘It is something to see.’

They followed the eunuch into a lumber room, full of discarded objects of pleasure — a couple of unstrung dulcimers, some archery quivers whose stitching had come loose, a leather mattress, some boxes of white crystals, the effigy of a woman stuffed with straw. Orkhan had briefly fantasised that the eunuch had brought them there to show them a prayer-cushion, but, no, Emerald brought them over to a table on which there was a model of a building — or rather of a group of buildings.

‘I confiscated it from the concubines,’ said Emerald.

Looking closer Orkhan saw that it was a miniature, wooden replica of the Harem. First, he found the Cage and the Passage Where the Jinns Consult. Then, having got his bearings, he found the porcelain pavilion, the chamber of the ice-pit and the zoo.

‘They had made it from thousands of toothpicks, in order to house their peris,’ claimed Emerald.

Anadil looked doubtful.

‘They were going to lodge their favourite peris in these tiny buildings and play harems with them. But I brought in the cats, before its building was quite finished.’ Emerald sighed. ‘The peris used to piss in my eyes at night as I slept, so that I could hardly get the lids apart in the morning and I hated them as much as they hated me. Still it makes me sad to see this fine building so abandoned. I do believe that the girls were going to imprison some of the peris in these toy buildings and keep them there so that they forgot everything about the outside world. I think they were even going to use delicate little needles to make a few of the peris into eunuchs. I should like to have seen that….’

Back in the corridor, Orkhan heard Anadil whispering to Perizade,

‘Emerald’s stories are ridiculous. Still, he is a great lover… even though the business with the chocolates is a bit messy.’

The eunuch’s former sunniness had by now quite vanished. He was a sombre and silent escort for the remainder of their walk to the hammam.

A few more steps brought them to the Imperial Laundry. Perizade went in to find Orkhan a clean robe. He caught a glimpse of vast vats and mangles and of hefty women using great wooden paddles to stir the vats. There was a stale reek of damp clothes. When Perizade re-emerged with the robe, Anadil said,

‘Say goodbye to Perizade. She has to go back to her work now.’

But Orkhan took her in his arms,

‘Do not leave me, Perizade. I need you.’

And, blushing, she whispered back,

‘I know that I am queen of your heart, for it is written on the folds of my cunt.’

And they kissed.

Anadil was furious,

‘You have to come with me! The ladies of the Harem are waiting for you. Go back to work, Perizade!’ And, as Perizade reluctantly re-entered the laundry, Anadil continued, ‘Perizade is too stupid to understand our mysteries. That is why she is a washerwoman and not a concubine. Now, it is time to clean you up.’

The laundry and the hammam were next door to one another, for they both drew on the same system of hot-water pipes. The approach to the hammam was lined by a corps of eunuchs bearing scimitars.

‘It is time you were washed and perfumed. We cannot let your mother see you looking like this.’

Emerald and the deaf mutes joined the other guards at the door of the hammam, as if the place was about to become Orkhan’s prison. Anadil took him by the hand and together they descended into the changing room. First Anadil undressed Orkhan. He hated to see how his cock stiffened in response to her delicate fingers, for by now he knew that he detested Anadil. And, as she looked into his eyes, it was clear that she knew it too, but she licked her lips and turned to press her flank against his groin, before asking him to unhook her dress.

A little black girl entered and served them wine. Anadil drew Orkhan down onto the cushions and pressed cup after cup on him, saying that he would find it easier to face what was coming if he had drunk a little.

‘First there will be an opportunity to practise the Dolorous Gaze on ordinary girls,’ she said. ‘You may look, but not touch, for in that way your desire will be intensified. We need to intensify your desire. Have some more wine and watch me.’

Like a serpent uncoiling, she rose from the cushions and began to dance. He heard the slap of her feet on the stone and the jangle of her anklets as she moved, but she seemed to dance to a music that was inaudible to ordinary mortals. Orkhan thought with regret of Perizade. He now knew that he hated Anadil, yet at the same time, as he watched Anadil dance, he was aware that she had drawn him into her thrall once more. Swivel-hipped, she came up close and stood over him and thrust her belly at his face and made its muscles roll and ripple. She turned and shook her bottom, so that its flesh seemed to shimmer before his eyes. Then she retreated and, with her head at an angle, she undulated and arched her back and rose on her toes, as if she were making love standing up to a creature made of air. She was glowing and sweating gently and her face was soft and dreamy. Then she seemed to remember Orkhan and moved in a serpentine glide towards him once more and drew her hands up over her thighs and hips. He thought that he might choke in the clouds of her bitter perfume.

‘I want to hear that you worship me,’ she said. ‘I want to hear that you will do anything I ask of you.’

Orkhan was trembling. Simultaneously, crazed and sane, he knew that some mad thing must follow her request, but at the same time, he knew that his lust for her was such that there was no power in him to refuse her anything she might ask for.

He threw himself forward to kiss her feet and, having done so, heard himself saying,

‘I worship you, Anadil. I am your slave and will do anything you require of me.’

Anadil had her hands on her hips. She had been dancing as if her life had depended on it, but now she looked coolly down on him and replied,

‘But I remember that only yesterday you were ready to have me executed. Now you have learnt something, have you not? You want me so much… As I stand here, I could urinate all over you. Would you dare stop me?’