Robert Irwin - Prayer-Cushions of the Flesh

‘If my mistress pleases… ’

‘Well as it happens, I prefer to urinate in private and I am not accustomed to pee over men. Orkhan, my business with you is all but finished. I will kiss you once more, but that will only be when you are dead. Now pick up my clothes and deliver them to one of the slaves outside, so that they can be taken off to the laundry. Then it is time for you to be washed, perfumed and massaged.’

Orkhan did as he was told. Then she took him by the hand and led him through a series of small cells, flagged and furnished in marble. The wet floors were treacherous underfoot. They passed through a slightly larger room, a tepidarium, where a couple of women lay on stone slabs sweating into their towels and from there they passed into the calidarium.

By now Orkhan was beyond surprise. The calidarium was vast and sulphorous and shafts of sunlight from the leaded widows in the roof streamed down between the clouds of steam and incense which rose from the water. Orkhan had never seen so much water before. The place was full of naked women who appeared and disappeared in those clouds. A few of the women splashed about in the water or sported round the central fountain which was fashioned in the form of a trio of entwined serpents. Another gang of women were running a race around the pool’s edge, their breasts flapping wildly as they ran. Others at the far end of the calidarium were dancing and singing as they danced. These women paid no attention to Orkhan and Anadil, but others seated and sprawled around the edge of the calidarium turned to look at them as they entered. Some hunched over the incense braziers, drinking wine or braiding each other’s hair. Bowls of cucumbers and hard-boiled eggs had been placed here and there throughout the hammam and some women picnicked on these. A couple of elderly concubines smoked long chibouk pipes. One was at work with a depilatory brush. So many naked bodies, running, sitting, lying, fondling, squatting, standing, bending, caressing, writhing, imploring — it ought to have been Paradise, yet to Orkhan, who longed to escape from it, it was more like a vision of the Last Judgement.

Then in between the surges of the women’s singing, Orkhan heard a man’s voice,

‘I would not say that my wife is ugly but… ’

It was the Vizier. Like everyone else he was naked. He stood near the edge of the pool, surrounded by a group of young concubines and he was juggling eggs and cucumbers as he continued to describe his wife.

‘…but she is an acceptable substitute for masturbation, if I concentrate and use my imagination.’

‘What is the Vizier doing here?’

‘Oh Orkhan, don’t be such a bore. Surely you must have guessed by now? He’s not the real Vizier. The real Vizier would never be allowed to set foot in the Harem. That little man is just one of the Harem’s buffoons. We appointed him to play the Vizier. He is, like most of what you have encountered, just part of our charade.’

Anadil summoned over a dark-skinned young woman.

‘This is Afsana. She invents the stories for us to play out. She gives us our roles and makes sure we know our lines.’

Afsana looked modestly down.

Anadil continued,

‘It would be so boring otherwise, just sitting around in the Harem, waiting for a man to appear. We all take turns at playing the different parts. Otherwise, even the masquerade would get dull. But now the time for games is almost over,’ concluded Anadil regretfully.

‘So the Prayer-Cushion cult is all just a game you have invented to while away your captivity?’

Anadil looked shocked,

‘Holy Mother, no! No, the way of the Prayer-Cushion is sacred truth. All our masques and games are part of our service as Prayer-Cushions — part of our the quest for the Holy Rapture and an expression of our desire to serve you.’

Anadil might have said more, but at that moment, three young concubines, who had been running round the edge of the pool, came trotting up to Orkhan.

‘Would you like to race with us?’ asked the first concubine breathlessly. ‘My name is Gulanar.’

‘And I am Najma.’

‘And I Parvana.’

They crowded round Orkhan.

‘If you catch one of us, you can do with her as you please,’ said Najma.

‘I can do with you as I please already,’ said Orkhan.

‘Well, you will have to catch us first,’ said Parvana and with that she tweaked at his penis. At that same moment, Najma pulled his nose and Gulanar slapped at his bottom. Then they turned and, like startled deer, broke into a run. Without thinking, Orkhan started to run after them. The marble floor was hot and slippery and he was somewhat drunk. The shrieks of the other concubines who sat and watched the runners echoed and re-echoed in the muffled acoustics of the hammam. As Parvana, who led the running concubines, pushed past the Vizier, the circle of boiled eggs and cucumbers that the latter had been keeping going in the air fell to the ground and were trampled underfoot.

Gulanar was an ungainly runner and soon fell behind the others and, when she looked back, this slowed her yet further. Orkhan was almost upon her and ready to lunge and catch at her waist when, with a squeal of alarm, she leapt sideways and hurled herself into the water. Najma and Parvana now stopped running and waited until Orkhan was almost upon them before following Gulanar into the pool. The breasts of the trio of concubines seemed to float on the water and the sunlight rippled over their bodies in quavering patterns. They splashed up at Orkhan.

‘You have not caught us yet!’ taunted Najma. ‘You will have to join us in the water.

‘Please come and play with us here,’ added Gulanar.

And then the three maidens began to sing a strange, senseless song of enchantment,

As they sang, they swam towards the pool’s edge where Orkhan was standing.

‘It is better under water,’ said Parvana and she pulled at Orkhan’s ankles so that he toppled in.

They swam around him, splashing water in his face. They were laughing at him, but he stood terrified and hesitating, for he had never been in a pool of water before. Their soft bellies and thighs trembled in the water’s movement. He made a lunge for Najma. She dived below the surface and, after hesitating an instant, he followed. He had his hands around her hips, but then he was being pulled back by one of the other concubines, and eel-like Najma slithered free of his embrace. Orkhan turned to confront Gulanar who continued to undulate seductively beneath the surface and baited him with her breasts. He waded towards her and then plunged beneath the surface. He felt something nip at his inner thigh. It was Parvana who nibbled at the insides of his legs with her teeth. He was about to turn on her when a pair of hands closed over his eyes. He had to break free and surface for air.

Gulanar stood a few feet away from him,

‘Over here my lover! Over here!’ I can give you what you want, but, as he waded towards her, she slipped under the surface and skimmed away.

‘Choose me! I am prettier than her,’ sang out Parvana now behind him.

And so it continued. At last, Orkhan confessed himself defeated and pulled himself out of the pool and he lay on its edge, finding it difficult to get his breath back in the sulphur-laden air. With a start, he saw reflected in the water what he took to be a white spectre hunched behind him on the edge of the pool. Among so many naked women, this figure shrouded in damp, clinging white cloths seemed like an annunciation of death.

Turning round, he saw that Anadil had arrived to stand beside the spectral figure.

‘Surely you recognise Mihrimah?’ asked Anadil. ‘However much she covers herself up, her shape gives her away. But I am afraid her arrival signals that our time for games is almost over. It only remains for us to massage and perfume you in preparation for the final ritual.’