Alamut (26 page)

Read Alamut Online

Authors: Vladimir Bartol

BOOK: Alamut
5.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“There isn’t a prophet hiding in any one of them,” Abu Ali laughed. “But they are all full of passion and their faith is unshakable.”

“That’s the main thing, yes, that’s the most important,” Hasan replied, rubbing his hands. Both of them were starting to feel feverish as the decisive events approached.

“Now go oversee the novices’ initiation. Here, I’ve put together the text of an oath for them. You’ll speak to them about the solemnity of the moment, you’ll speak about the heroic deeds of the martyrs, enthusiastically, passionately. Fire up their young souls and fill them with fervor and determination. Threaten them with horrible punishment, threaten them with damnation if they aren’t absolutely obedient to us in every way. For so many years I’ve dreamed of educating followers like these in accordance with my plan, of reshaping their character to suit my needs, so I could build my institutions on them. At last, at last I’ve lived to see the day!”

“You know I’ve always trusted your wisdom,” Abu Ali said. “I’m convinced that you also have good reasons for what you’re doing now. But I can’t help thinking that it would be wiser if you initiated the novices yourself. Look, they’re so eager to see you at last, for you to make an appearance, to feel that you’re a living person and not just some invisible force that they have to obey. It would elevate the event immeasurably.”

“That’s all true, but I won’t do it.”

Hasan grew pensive and looked down at the floor. Then he continued.

“I know what I’m doing. If you want to make use of people as means to an end, it’s better to keep a distance from their concerns. What matters is that you stay free to act and that your heart doesn’t dictate to you. When Buzurg Ummid comes, I’ll explain everything to both of you. The flag that you’ll give to the fedayeen is ready. Go and do what I’ve said. This initiation is more important than victory over the Turks.”

The great assembly hall in the building of the supreme commander was turned into a mosque for that evening. For the first time the novices were permitted to enter that part of the fortress. The guard of mace-bearing eunuchs had been reinforced. The Moors were in full battle gear, with armor, helmets and shields. Anxious feelings beset the novices as they entered the hall, which was solemnly empty and draped all around with white curtains. They wore white cassocks and tall, white fezzes, and they were barefoot, as the commandment states. The dais were also dressed in white. They arranged the novices by groups, whispering instructions to them on how to behave during the ceremony. The novices shivered in excitement. They were pale and exhausted and some of them were feeling faint.

The horn sounded last prayers. Abu Ali entered, also wearing a loose white cassock and with a tall, white fez on his head. He walked straight through the hall, finally coming to a halt in front of the novices. The commanders stood in two rows beside him. The ceremony had begun.

Abu Ali began by conducting the evening prayers in a steady voice. Then he turned toward the novices and began speaking about the meaning of that evening’s initiation, about the joy they must be feeling about it, and about the obedience they owed to Sayyiduna and his deputies. He told them about the bliss of the martyrs and the importance of the example they had set, which should become their highest goal.

“The most glorious moment of your lives is approaching,” he said. “You are about to become an elite force, fedayeen, those who give their lives for the holy cause. Among hundreds of thousands of the faithful, only the twenty of you are receiving this honor. But a day of trials is also approaching, when you will have to prove your faith and obedience to Sayyiduna in battle. The enemy is fast approaching Alamut. Is there anyone among you who will waver at the crucial moment? Is there anyone among you willing to incur the punishment of a shameful death for treachery? I know there are not any such among you. I have spoken to Sayyiduna about you and asked him to approve your initiation. In his benevolence he has granted my wish. Do you wish to prove unworthy of his kindness and my trust? In his name, I am about to initiate you, all of you, as fedayeen. I will pronounce the oath, and all of you, each using his own name, will repeat it after me. Once you have sworn, a great transformation will take place in you. You will cease being novices and will become the elite of Our Master. Now listen and repeat each word after me!”

He stretched out his huge, shovel-like arms and lifted his gaze toward the ceiling. He spoke in an enraptured voice.

“I, …, solemnly swear by Allah, the Prophet Mohammed, Ali and all the martyrs, that I will carry out every order of Our Master or his deputy without any hesitation. I commit myself to defending the Ismaili flag with my
life and to my last breath. With this oath I accept initiation into the fedayeen, from which no one can release me, except Sayyiduna. As Allah is God and Mohammed is his Prophet. Come, al-Mahdi!”

The solemnity of the moment deeply affected the novices. Their faces were waxen and their eyes shone as in a fever. A blissful smile played on their mouths. They were filled with an unspeakably sweet feeling. They had arrived at the goal of their long and persistent efforts. They accepted the initiation they had so fervently longed for.

Abu Ali signaled to Ibrahim, who handed the flag to him. The grand dai unfurled it, revealing the words of the fifth verse of the twenty-eighth sura glinting on its white surface in gold embroidered letters: “And we wished to be gracious to those who were being depressed in the land, to make them leaders and make them heirs.”

“Ibn Tahir,” he called out. “Come forward! To you, first among the elite, I give this banner. Let this white flag become the symbol of your honor and your pride. Should you let an enemy trample it, you let him trample your honor and your pride. Therefore, guard it more zealously than the apple of your eye. As long as a single feday is living, the enemy is not to lay hands on it. The only path to it leads over your dead bodies. Select the five strongest from your ranks. Lots drawn among them will determine the flag bearer.”

As in a dream, ibn Tahir took the flag from his hands. He went back and stood holding it at the head of the fedayeen. The moment marking the highpoint of his life was receding, and the unspeakably sweet feeling that had filled it was already turning into a burning ache for some wonderful, lost thing. This he realized: the moment he had just experienced, and that was so hopelessly short, would never come again.

In the meantime, messengers had been coming to and going from the castle. Abdul Malik had been informed in time and, with Muzaffar’s detachment, changed course for the road that the Turkish cavalry would be taking. Scouts were dispatched in the direction of the enemy and formed an unbroken chain that could communicate using predetermined signals. The reconnaissance service worked impeccably.

When Abu Ali returned from the initiation, Hasan relaxed.

“At least that’s taken care of.”

Then he ordered the grand dai to assemble the units he needed and head out with them onto the plateau outside the canyon, where they were to wait for the sultan’s vanguard.

“What about the fedayeen?” Abu Ali asked.

“This battle is made to order for them,” Hasan replied. “You’ll take them with you and Abu Soraka will continue to be their commander. But the
two of you make sure they don’t get killed. I’m saving them for bigger things. So don’t expose them to too great a danger. Give them the prestigious jobs instead. For instance, have them shoot the first arrows that start the battle. But the first hand-to-hand clash should be borne by the older soldiers. Send the fedayeen into battle only after victory is certain or, of course, in case of extreme peril. If the opportunity comes, have them seize the enemy’s flag. I’m counting on you. You’re the pillar on which I’m building our common future.”

After he had dismissed Abu Ali, Hasan left for the gardens behind the castle.

“Take me to Miriam’s pavilion and then bring Apama there,” he ordered Adi. “This is no time for quarrels.”

Miriam came to meet him. He told her that he had sent for Apama.

“That woman has been behaving very strangely since last night,” she said with some concern. “You must have given her some special instructions.”

“The time for playing games is over,” Hasan replied. “Now all of us who have any responsibility have to focus all our efforts, if the plan is to succeed and if the enemy is to be destroyed.”

Adi brought Apama in. She examined the arrangement of the pavilion with a jealous eye.

“What a lovely little nest the two of you have made,” she said scornfully. “Like real lovebirds.”

“Abu Ali has ridden out with an army to defend the castle, which the sultan’s forces could attack at any minute,” Hasan began, as though he hadn’t heard what Apama had said. He motioned both women toward the pillows and then lay down on them himself.

The old woman was overcome with fright. Her eyes went from Hasan to Miriam.

“What will become of us?” she asked in a stammering voice.

“Everything will be fine, if my orders are carried out to the letter. Otherwise there will be a massacre here, the likes of which the world has never seen.”

“I’ll do everything you command, my master,” Apama assured him and poured wine into his cup.

“That’s precisely what I expect from both you and Miriam. Listen closely. The first thing we need is for the gardens to take on the appearance of something otherworldly. In other words, for them to give simple and unlearned visitors the impression of paradise. Not by day, of course, because their location and the surroundings would give too much away. I mean by night. That’s why we need, first and foremost, powerful illumination. This
would show off every detail of the gardens in a special light, and everything outside of them would be lost in impenetrable darkness. Apama, do you remember that evening your Indian prince arranged for you in Kabul?”

“Oh, master! How could I forget, we were so young and radiant then!”

“I’m only concerned about a few of the details. Do you recall how astonished you were by the fantastic colored lanterns from China that turned night in the gardens into the most magical day? When everything was bright and yet totally strange, new and different?”

“Yes, when our faces went from yellow to red, green, blue, then all different colors at once. It was divine. And in the midst of all that, our burning passion …”

“Most praiseworthy, indeed. But what I want to know from you is whether you remember those lanterns well enough to be able to replicate them.”

“You’re right. What’s over is over. There’s no point in talking about it. Now it’s time for others to have their turn. Do I remember the lanterns, you ask? Of course I could reproduce them, as long as I had enough parchment and dye.”

“You’ll have it. Would you also be able to decorate them with appropriate designs?”

“We have a girl who’s a master at those things.”

“She means Fatima,” added Miriam, who had been listening to their dialog and quietly smiling. “Everyone could help Apama with this.”

“You’ll need everyone, because everything has to be ready by tomorrow evening. Have the eunuchs prepare the food and drink. I hope there’s still enough wine in the cellars.”

“More than enough.”

“Good. I’ll visit the gardens tomorrow between third and fourth prayers. I want the girls to see me and have their zeal reinforced. And hear directly from me how they’re supposed to behave toward their visitors. I won’t tolerate any jokes. If any of them in any way lets on that she’s not one of the houris and that the gardens aren’t paradise, she’ll be finished, no questions asked. It shouldn’t be too hard, I don’t think.”

“Each one of them thinks she’s a princess already,” Apama added.

“The two of us will be sure to coach them into their roles,” Miriam commented anxiously.

“The threat of death will do its work,” Hasan said. “Make sure all three pavilions are fully ready for visitors tomorrow. The girls assigned to them should be made over from head to foot, dressed all in silk, gold and gemstones. Made up so that they themselves could be convinced that they’re girls from heaven. I hope the school has done its job in that respect.”

“Don’t worry about that, my master. Miriam and I will take care of everything.”

“Tell me, since you know best, what kind of appearance should I make to those monkeys in order to produce the strongest impression?”

“You need to look like a king,” Miriam replied. “That’s how the girls imagine and want you to be.”

“You’ll need to have an entourage,” Apama added, “to make your arrival more ceremonious.”

“Aside from the eunuch guards and my two deputy commanders, no one can know about the existence of these gardens. I’ll have to make do with them. But tell me, what do those little chickens imagine a king looks like?”

“A proud gait and an exalted facial expression—that’s what their king needs to have,” Miriam said with a smile. “And most important of all, a scarlet cape and a gold crown on his head.”

“Amusing, really. The wise man has to disguise himself if he wants respect and confirmation from the people.”

“That’s how the world is,” Apama added.

“Well, we have plenty of rags and baubles like that in the castle. All that was taken care of ahead of time.”

Hasan laughed. He leaned toward Apama and whispered in her ear.

“Do you have that tincture ready that causes the skin to contract? The visitors should get the impression that they have perpetual virginity beside them.”

Apama burst out laughing and nodded. Miriam had only caught the last few words and blushed.

“Are the baths and everything that goes with them ready?”

“Everything is in order, my master.”

“Good. Get to work in earnest tomorrow morning and then wait for me with the girls. Good night.”

Adi rowed him noiselessly back out of the gardens.

Now that he was alone in his rooms, he thought everything through one more time. For twenty years he had prepared steadily and unflaggingly for this moment. Twenty long years. He had never wavered or been frightened by anything in his path. He had been hard and demanding toward himself. He had also been hard and demanding toward others. All just to realize his goal, to embody his dreams.

Other books

212 LP: A Novel by Alafair Burke
The Little Girls by Elizabeth Bowen
A Grant County Collection by Karin Slaughter
Promoted to Wife? by Paula Roe
Robin Cook by Mindbend
HIGHWAY HOMICIDE by Bill WENHAM
The Farwalker's Quest by Joni Sensel