Captain Manuchehr didn’t just train them in military maneuvers, he served as their geography instructor as well. Leaving the castle, he would ride so far south with them that when they turned to face their point of departure they could see the peak of Demavend jutting above the surrounding mountains. This he chose as the orientation point for his explanations. When he still served in the sultan’s army, he had traveled across this entire realm several times. Now, on a huge sheet of parchment, he drew all the major mountain ranges, all the most important cities and markets, and all the military and caravan routes. He spread the map on the ground before the novices, using Demavend to determine the compass points, and began describing the location of individual geographic features and crossroads. To bring the lesson to life and heighten his listeners’ zeal, he wove recollections of his life in the military into his descriptions. And each novice was assigned the task of determining the location of and distance to his hometown. As a result, these lessons were among everybody’s favorites.
A new subject that al-Hakim taught was particularly unusual. Formerly this man had moved in court circles in the West. He was familiar with the life of the courts in Byzantium and Cairo, as well as in Baghdad. He had been the guest of many powerful princes and had seen numerous peoples, whose ways and traditions he had thoroughly studied. Now he distilled all this experience into a particular subject which he imparted to his students. He taught them how the Greeks, Jews, Armenians and Arabs greeted each other, what their customs were, how they ate, drank and enjoyed themselves, and what they did for a living. He showed them how to appear before this or that prince, what various rulers’ ceremonies required, and he provided them with the basics of the Greek, Hebrew and Armenian languages. Through all of this he performed like some Greek tragedian, playing first an exalted prince, then a meek petitioner, walking about tall and proud one minute, then falling face first to the floor or bowing low before phantoms, while smiling half-ingratiatingly and half-slyly. The novices had to imitate him, playing parts with him and exchanging greetings in foreign languages. Every now and then the proceedings were interrupted by riotous laughter, and the learned Greek would willingly join in.
Besides dogma and Arabic grammar, dai Ibrahim also explicated the Koran and taught algebra and mathematical disciplines. Ibn Tahir soon came to feel genuine admiration for him. He felt as though dai Ibrahim knew everything. When he interpreted the Koran, he would also make philosophical digressions, talk about other faiths, and share the basics of Christianity, Judaism, and even the mysterious Indian teachings proclaimed by the Buddha, alongside other pagan beliefs. He would explain in detail why all those faiths were in error, and demonstrate how much truer were the teachings of the Prophet, which found their most perfect expression in the doctrine of the Ismailis. In conclusion he would condense all these reflections into concise sentences, which the novices had to write down and then memorize.
Once dai Abu Soraka came to class with a thick paper package under his arm. He unwrapped it carefully, as though it contained something mysterious and valuable, then pulled out a stack of minutely inscribed sheets of parchment. He set these down on the rug before him and put his heavy hand over them.
“Today I will begin to teach you about the life of Our Master. You will hear about his suffering, his struggles, and the great sacrifices he has made for the Ismaili cause. This stack of writings in front of me now is the result of his untiring efforts. All of this was written carefully by his hand for you, so that you can learn from his life what it means to sacrifice yourself for the just cause. That’s why I want you to take careful notes on everything you’re going to hear, and then learn it well. Behold, here is the fruit of his labors on your behalf.”
The novices stood and approached the writings that lay in front of the dai. In silent admiration they looked at the beautifully inscribed sheets, which rustled as they slid through their teacher’s fingers. Suleiman wanted a closer look and reached for one of the sheets. But Abu Soraka quickly stretched his hand out, as if protecting the writings from desecration.
“Have you lost your mind?!” he exclaimed. “This is the manuscript of a living prophet.”
The novices gradually returned to their places. In a reverent voice, the dai started to introduce them to the life and achievements of their supreme commander. To begin with, he wanted to provide them with a brief outline of the external events, so it would then be easier to shift to the details that were described in the sheets before him. They heard that Sayyiduna, their commander, had been born sixty years ago in Tus, that his name was Hasan and that his father Ali came from the famous Arab clan of Sabbah Homairi. In his early youth he had gotten to know several Ismaili teachers and missionaries and immediately sensed the absolute rightness of their doctrine. His father himself had secretly been a devotee of Ali. In order not to awaken suspicion, he had sent the young Hasan to Nishapur to study with the Sunni refiq Muafiq Edin. It was there that Hasan become acquainted with the present grand vizier Nizam al-Mulk and with the astronomer and mathematician Omar Khayyam. They were fellow students who, when they fully realized the falseness of the Sunni faith and the vanity of its exponents, resolved to devote their lives to the Ismaili cause. They swore that whichever of them first attained success in public life would help the other two advance, so that they could more effectively serve the one true cause.
The grand vizier failed to keep his promise. On the contrary! He lured Sayyiduna to the sultan’s court, where he had set a dangerous trap for him. But Allah protected his chosen one. He wrapped him in the cloak of night and led him to Egypt and the caliph there. But even there, jealous individuals rose up against him. He overcame them and, after much wandering, returned to his homeland. Allah gave him the fortress of Alamut so that he could use it to launch the struggle against false teachings and ultimately overcome the false rulers and despots. His entire life is strewn with miracles, mortal danger and the grace of Allah. Abu Soraka continued.
“Once you hear all these wondrous stories, which seem more like legends than truth, you’ll know Our Master to be a true and powerful prophet.”
And in the following days he began recounting in detail the most improbable events and experiences from the life of the supreme commander. The novices’ picture of a strong prophet gradually took shape, and it became their most fervent wish to see him in person someday, and to prove themselves to him through some feat or great sacrifice, because meaning something in his eyes meant the same thing for them as rising far above the mass of humanity.
By day, ibn Tahir no longer marveled at anything. He was a keen observer and an obedient student. He did everything the moment demanded of him, and he felt that everything had to be precisely the way it was.
In the evening, however, when he lay with his hands clasped behind his head and stared at the reddish flame emanating from the oil dish on its stand in the corner, he suddenly realized that he was living in some strange, mysterious world. He felt anxious and often he would wonder, “Are you, lying here, really the same Avani who used to tend father’s herd in Sava?” He felt that the world he was now living in and his former world were divided by the same kind of abyss that divides the world of dreams from the waking world.
He escaped from those dreams by writing poems. During poetry lessons, dai Abu Soraka asked the novices to celebrate in verse some personage or event of significance to the Ismailis. They had to write poems about the Prophet, about Ali, about Ismail and the glorious martyrs and their feats.