Lessons began after breakfast. They went into the glass-ceilinged hall with the pool that Halima had admired the day before. They sat around on pillows, each of them with a black tablet resting on her crossed legs. They got their slate pencils ready and waited. Miriam pointed to a place for Halima to sit and handed her her writing implements.
“Hold it like you see the others doing, even though you don’t know how to write yet. I’ll teach you later, but for now you can at least get used to the tablet and pencil.”
Then she went to the doorway and with a mallet struck a gong that hung on the wall.
A giant Moor holding a thick book entered the room. He was dressed in short striped trousers and a cloak that reached to his feet but was left open in front. He was shod in plain sandals and had a thin red turban wrapped around his head. He let himself down onto a pillow prepared for him and sat facing the girls, his weight resting on his knees.
“Today, my sweet little doves, we continue with passages from the Koran,” he said, piously touching his forehead to the book, “in which the Prophet speaks of the joys of the afterlife and the delights of paradise. I see a new young student among you, clear-eyed and avid for learning, hungry for knowledge and pleasing to the spirit. So that no drop of wisdom and holy learning escapes her, let’s have Fatima, clear-witted and sharp, repeat and interpret what your careful gardener Adi has so far managed to plant and cultivate in your little hearts.”
This was the same Adi who had brought her to these gardens yesterday. Halima recognized his voice immediately. The whole time he spoke she valiantly resisted an urge to laugh.
Fatima lifted her lovely, rounded chin to face the teacher and began reciting in a sweet, almost singing voice, “In the fifteenth sura, in verses forty-five to forty-eight we read, ‘Behold, the god-fearing shall come to these gardens and to the springs: enter in peace, for indeed we shall take the ire from their hearts and they shall sit down on pillows with each other. They will feel no fatigue and we shall never cause them to leave …’”
Adi praised her. Then she recited several other passages by heart. When she finished, he said to Halima, “So, my silver doe, fleet-footed and avid for learning, did you hear in the pearls of your companion and older sister what my skill, my depth of spirit has sown in the bosoms of our gentle-eyed houris and nurtured into fulsome buds? You must also blow all childishness out of your heart and listen intently to what my holy learning reveals to you, so that you can be happy both here and in the afterlife.”
Then he began to dictate slowly, word by word, a new chapter from the Koran. The chalk squeaked across the tablets. Moving slightly, the girls’ lips silently repeated what their hands were writing.
The lesson came to an end and Halima caught her breath. Everything had struck her as so silly and so strange, as though none of it had been real.
The Moor stood up, touched his forehead to the book reverently three times, and said, “Lovely young maidens, my diligent pupils, skillful and quick, enough learning and scattering of my wisdom for now. What you’ve heard and dutifully written on your tablets you must now inscribe on your memories and learn thoroughly and by heart. As you do this, you must also instruct this sweet quail, your new companion, in the ways of holy learning and convert her ignorance into knowledge.”
He smiled and a row of white teeth shone brightly. He rolled his eyes portentously, leaving the schoolroom with great dignity.
The curtain had barely dropped behind him when Halima burst out laughing, and some of the others joined her. Miriam, however, said, “You must never again laugh at Adi, Halima. Maybe he seems a bit strange to you at first, but he has a heart of gold and he would do anything for us. He’s expert at many things—the Koran, worldly philosophy, poetry, rhetoric… And he’s equally at home in both Arabic and Pahlavi. Sayyiduna also has tremendous confidence in him.”
Halima felt ashamed and lowered her eyes. But Miriam stroked her cheek and added, “Don’t be concerned that you laughed. But now you know, and you’ll behave differently in the future.”
She nodded to her and went out into the gardens with the other girls to rake and weave.
Sara led Halima into the bath to wash her hair. First she brushed her hair out, then she undressed her down to the waist. Her hands trembled slightly as she did this, which made Halima slightly uncomfortable, but she tried not to think about it.
“So who is our master?” she asked. Her curiosity had finally gained the upper hand. She realized she held some power over Sara, though she didn’t understand why.
Sara was instantly ready to oblige.
“I’ll tell you everything I know,” she said, her voice quivering strangely. “But you’d better not tell on me. And you have to like me. Do you promise?”
“I do.”
“You see, all of us belong to Sayyiduna, which means ‘Our Master.’ He’s a very, very powerful man. But what can I tell you…”
“Tell me! Tell me!”
“Maybe you’ll never even see him. I and several of the others have been here for a year already, and we haven’t.”
“What is this about ‘Our Master’?”
“Be patient. I’ll explain everything. Do you know who is first after Allah among the living?”
“The caliph.”
“Not true. And it’s not the sultan, either. Sayyiduna is first after Allah.”
Halima’s eyes widened in a shiver of astonishment. It was as though she were experiencing a tale from the Thousand and One Nights, only now she wasn’t just listening to it, she was in the very midst of it.
“You’re saying that none of you has yet seen Sayyiduna?”
Sara bent her face right down over Halima’s ear.
“Not exactly. One of us knows him well. But no one must ever find out that we’re talking about this.”
“I’ll be silent as a tomb. So who’s the one who knows Sayyiduna?”
She already had a clear sense who it might be. All she wanted now was confirmation.
“It’s Miriam,” Sara whispered. “The two of them are close. But you’d better not give me away.”
“I won’t talk about it with anyone.”
“Then it’s all right. You have to like me now that I’ve trusted in you so much.”
Curiosity tormented Halima. She asked, “Who was that old woman we met in front of the house yesterday?”
“Apama. But it’s even more dangerous to talk about her than Miriam. Miriam is kind and likes us. But Apama is mean and hates us. She knows Sayyiduna well too. But be careful you don’t let on to anyone that you know anything.”
“I won’t, Sara.”
Sara washed Halima’s hair faster.
“You’re so sweet,” she whispered. Halima was embarrassed but pretended not to have heard anything. There was so much more she needed to find out about.
“Who is Adi?” she asked.
“He’s a eunuch.”
“What’s that, a eunuch?”
“A man who isn’t really a man.”
“What does that mean?”
Sara began explaining it to her in more detail, but Halima rebuffed her irritably, “I don’t want to hear about that.”
“You’re going to have to hear about a lot of other things like it.”
Sara was visibly hurt.
The washing finished, Sara began to massage Halima’s scalp with fragrant oils. Then she brushed her hair out. She would also have liked to hug and kiss her, but Halima cast such a menacing look up at her that she was afraid to. She led her from the washroom out into the sun so that her hair could dry faster. A group of the girls weeding flower beds nearby noticed them and approached.
“Where have you two been all this time?” they asked.