“Strange, very strange,” Halima thought out loud. “Is he friends with the sultan?”
“No. The sultan is his worst enemy.”
“Oh my, what if he attacked us! What would become of us then?”
“Don’t worry. He’d go home with a bloody head—that is, if he still had one on his shoulders.”
“Does Sayyiduna have many wives?”
“You ask too many questions. He has a son, that much I know, and supposedly two little monkeys like you.”
Halima looked hurt.
“What do you suppose he would think about me?” she wondered, half to herself.
Adi laughed.
“He has a lot of other things to worry about, at least for the moment.”
“I’ll bet he dresses in pure silk and scarlet.”
“It depends. I’ve also seen him wear sackcloth.”
“I’ll bet he only dresses like that so people won’t recognize him. Is he a king?”
“More than a king. He’s a prophet.”
“Like Mohammed? I’ve heard that Mohammed was really handsome and had many wives. Some really young ones too.”
Adi roared with laughter.
“Oh, you… nosey little robin, you! What won’t that little head come up with!”
“Are women afraid of him too?”
“Women most of all. Apama, for example, is as tame as a dove around him.”
“What does he do to them?”
“Nothing. That’s just the point, that everyone is afraid of him despite that fact.”
“Then he must be very mean and bossy.”
“No, not at all. He likes to laugh and joke. But when he looks at you, the world stands still.”
“Does he have such frightening eyes?”
“No, I don’t know. But it’s about time for you to stop asking so many questions. What it is about him that’s got everybody afraid, I don’t know. But if you ever get a chance to see him, you’ll have the feeling that he knows your every thought, even the ones you’ve never shared with anyone. It will seem as though he sees straight to the bottom of your heart, and there’ll be no point trying to seem better or pretending, because you’ll feel in your bones that he sees and knows everything.”
Halima shuddered as all her blood rushed to her cheeks.
“Oh, I don’t think I’d like to meet him. People like that are the scariest of all.”
“What have I been telling you? Now let’s go get the basket and head back home. And you, my little gazelle, keep that little pestle locked up behind those pearls of yours and be as silent as a fish about what we’ve been talking about.”
“I will, Adi,” Halima promised, and hurried after him toward the boat.
That evening the girls gathered around the pool in the great hall. The room was festively decorated, with twice the usual number of candles burning in the chandeliers, and oil lamps flickering with a variety of colored flames set out in the corners. The whole room was decked out with greenery and flowers.
Three of Apama’s assistants served the girls with food and drink. On bronze platters they brought in roasted birds, pan-fried fish with lemon, fruit and pastries, and they poured wine from earthen jugs into cups which the girls dutifully emptied. What began as subdued whispering soon turned into resounding laughter and pervasive twittering. Apama, who for a time observed all this with restrained anger, eventually went away in a rage.
“You’re responsible for this going well,” she shouted at Miriam.
“Don’t worry, Apama,” Miriam laughed in response.
She could hear her still muttering to herself as she walked away down the corridor.
“Shameful. Shameful!”
At this point Asad and Adi joined the meal, and soon afterward Moad and Mustafa too. They also ate and drank, and the revelry became universal.
“Let’s start the show,” Fatima proposed. They all agreed with her.
They began by reciting verses. Some presented excerpts from the Koran, while others offered passages from Ansari and other poets. Fatima recited her own work.
Soon she and Zainab were engaged in a rhyming duel. The eunuchs, who had never witnessed their agility, laughed themselves into tears. Adi praised them profusely. His face shone with happiness and pride.
When the recitations were over, it was time for dancing. Fatima and several of the others went for their instruments, while Miriam, Halima and Zuleika began dancing. When they finished their group performance, Zuleika continued by herself. Slowly at first, in time to the beating of the gong, then faster and faster her body twisted. Finally, she leapt up onto the edge of the pool, spun around in place with such frightening speed that it took everyone’s breath away, and then, like a gust of wind, vanished amid her bed pillows.
The girls all shouted with delight. Halima ran over and hugged her impetuously. The eunuchs filled their cups and they all drank to Zuleika’s health.
The wine had already gone to their heads. They began singing, kissing, and hugging each other. They pulled pranks on each other, exchanging gibes and taunts in jest. But the queen of all this silliness was Halima, whose head began spinning with the first cup of wine. Convinced she had become as light as a butterfly, she had the feeling that invisible wings were lifting her off the floor. Soon after Zuleika’s dance she was overcome with vain rivalry, and she insisted that the musicians play a dance for her. She began twisting and spinning, imitating Zuleika’s movements. Everybody laughed at her, which only served to incite her to even greater buffoonery. Finally she too jumped up onto the edge of the pool. Her companions screamed and Miriam ran to catch her, but it was too late. She had lost her equilibrium and tumbled into the water.
In an instant they were all around her. Adi’s powerful arm reached into the water for her and lifted her out of the pool. She coughed up the water she had inhaled, looked fearfully at Miriam, and started crying and laughing all at once. Miriam scolded her and led her into her bedroom, where she rubbed her down with a towel and changed her clothes. When the two of them returned, she was quiet and tame for a while. But several cups of wine restored her courage. She went to the entrance and struck the gong several times as a sign for everyone to be quiet.
“My companions and lovely family ones,” she began, trying to imitate Adi. “Here you see Halima, young and lovely, whose head the wine has made all muddly.”
The girls and the eunuchs burst out in laughter.
“Don’t go on, Halima,” Miriam said to her. “It’s not working.”
“I just wanted to apologize to everyone,” Halima responded, hurt.
Miriam got up from her bed, went over to Halima, and led her back to her bed pillows. There Halima felt so vulnerable that the tears flowed profusely. She took Miriam’s hand and kissed her fingers, one by one.
That whole evening Sara was unable to assert herself. She was used to having Halima all to herself that time of day, and now she watched her every movement jealously. All evening Halima had paid no attention to her. Now, as she lay next to Miriam, kissing her fingers, she instinctively turned to look for her, and she caught a glance that was full of jealous despair. She smiled at her vainly and defiantly began stroking Miriam’s hair, face and neck. She pressed up close to her, hugged her, and kissed her passionately on the lips.
Sara was suffering the torments of hell. She emptied one cup after the other. Finally she couldn’t take it any longer. She burst out crying and ran toward the door.
Halima pulled away from Miriam and ran after her. Her conscience had stung her and now she wanted to comfort Sara.
In an instant Miriam understood everything. The blood left her cheeks. She stood up.
“Sara! Halima! Come here!” she called out in a harsh voice.