Abu el-Kasim warmly denied the charge, but the taxgatherer smote him on the head with his staff and said irascibly, “That’s what I’m told, and I should pay little attention if the matter had reached no other ears than mine. I’m a good-natured man and because of my bulk I dislike trudging the streets. But Sultan Selim ben-Hafs has also heard of it, which has put me in a questionable light. I’m vexed with you, Abu el-Kasim; hitherto I’ve been content with ten gold pieces a year and you’ve vilely cheated me, setting at nought my friendship and protection. Now we’re both in trouble, for the Sultan has laid an extra tax upon you of a thousand gold pieces.”
“A thousand!” yelped Abu el-Kasim. Throwing off turban and cloak he began to jump about half-naked, knocking over jars and baskets in his frenzy. “A thousand! The whole street isn’t worth that sum, and Allah has plainly deprived Selim ben-Hafs of the remainder of his wits. By the time I’d collected even the tenth part of it I should be toothless with age.”
“Did you say the tenth part?” exclaimed the taxgatherer in amazement. “A hundred gold pieces? Then Allah is indeed great and I’ve found for my lord a goose that lays golden eggs all unsuspected. You astonish me; for I was only joking, being inquisitive about your growing fortunes.”
Abu el-Kasim had abrupdy ceased his capering, and now said with a malicious glint in his eye, “So. You were making game of me. Then
I’ll give your wife such an ointment of paradise that after embracing her you’ll die in agony, foaming at the mouth.”
Taxgatherer Ali ben-Ismail sweated slightly, and his eyes were cold as he said in a harsh tone, “Don’t take the jest to heart, my dear Abu. It’s all part of my duty. I’ve been ordered to make closer scrutiny of your household because Selim ben-Hafs, blessed be his name, needs money to buy another couple of boys. So let us come to some friendly arrangement, as usual. You’d gain nothing if I were dismissed and replaced by a leaner, hungrier man whom you would have to make fat.”
Abu felt grave misgivings on hearing that his fortune was the talk of the town. But all he said was, “Cursed be Selim ben-Hafs. He has already thirty young boys in his harem and at least as many women. Am I, poor wretch, to pay for his lascivious amusements? Hear now a remarkable dream that I’ve had. A Deliverer came from the sea, and at his coming the taxgatherers were led in bonds through the city and flogged at every street corner.”
The fat official sweated more than ever, and raised a finger to silence Abu.
“Such dreams are dangerous,” he said, “and I cannot think how it is that so many others have been plagued with them. In the name of the Compassionate, dear Abu, refrain from trumpeting your dreams abroad! Remember that even we, the taxgatherers, are poor men.”
After prolonged haggling Ali ben-Ismail agreed to take fifty pieces of gold, and said, “I know that you’ll feel the loss of this great sum, and I advise you to make up its value in silver coins and cups, and in your slave woman’s bracelets. Carry all this to the treasury to be weighed, so that everyone may see how I’ve denuded you.”
No suggestion could have been more welcome to Abu. He gathered up vessels and coins to the value of fifty pieces of gold and having helped Ali to his feet they set off. The taxgatherer walked first, leaning on his staff and panting, while sweat poured down his fat cheeks. After him scuttled Abu el-Kasim wearing only a dirty turban and a loincloth, with the bundle on his back. As he went he shrieked, lamented, and uttered heart-rending appeals to Allah, so that even the neighbors were moved. For once his tears were genuine, for fifty gold pieces was a great deal of money, even for him.
However, before the hour of evening prayer, Abu el-Kasim returned well satisfied from the treasury. He washed, put on clean clothes, performed his devotions, and said, “The money fell in good soil, for even the clerks pitied me when they saw me compelled to surrender my slave woman’s bangles, and this evening the whole city’s in an uproar over Selim’s rapacity. Lamps will burn late tonight in all wealthy houses while the owners bury their treasure beneath the flagstones.”
Nevertheless the treasury had wrought a marvel in extorting fifty gold pieces from Abu el-Kasim, and not many days later my white- bearded teacher said to me,
“I have praised your aptitude for learning, and the Faqih himself wishes to behold your face.”
This was the greatest honor that could have been done me, for the Faqih was the most learned man in the school, and deeply versed in the branches of fiqh, or jurisprudence. As mufti he was competent, in all matters relating to the law in which there was uncertainty or ambiguity, to issue a decree called a fatwa. He stood in high favor with the ruler, for he had profited by his knowledge of the Koran, Sunna, and fiqh to make pronouncements favorable to the Sultan in troublesome affairs. Compared with him my teacher was but a poor man whose only merit was to know the Koran by heart and be competent to instruct the newly converted.
I was alarmed at the thought of meeting this great man, for only gradually had I come to appreciate the wealth of the Arabic language and to learn how many ways there were of reading the Koran, how many words could be made to express one idea and how many interpretations could be put upon one word. My teacher counted fifty words for “camel” and as many as a hundred for “sword,” to denote all the varieties of that weapon.
The Faqih was sitting with his writing materials before him, in a room containing many books and reading desks. He had a jar of dates by him and from time to time he took one out, sucked it, and spat the stone onto the floor before me, then licked his fingers and took a sip of water from a goblet. Seeing that he was enjoying a period of rest and refreshment, I took courage and greeted him reverently.
“I have heard,” said he gently, “that you’re a skilled physician from the Frankish countries, and are zealously striving to become a good Moslem. Tell me, therefore, of your Lord, your Prophet, and your rule.”
These things were well known to me and I answered, “Allah the one God is my Lord and Mohammed is his Prophet, blessed be his name. The Koran is my rule, virtue the way of my spirit, Sunna my path.”
He nodded in approval, and stroking the beard which reached to his belt he asked, “What is the key to prayer?”
This question too was easy, and I answered readily, “The key to prayer is devout purification; the key to purification is the profession of the name of God; the key to profession is steadfast faith; the key to faith is trust; the key to trust is hope; the key to hope is obedience; and the key to obedience is: Allah most high is the one God and him do I profess.”
Again he nodded, and asked, “How do you perform the purification when preparing yourself for prayer?”
“I have been taught that there are six requirements for the partial ablution: announcement of intention, the washing of the face, hands, and arms to the elbows; the drying of the head and the washing of the feet to the ankle bones, all in the proper order. But the following ten actions are meritorious-to wash the hands before dipping them in the bowl; to rinse the mouth; to rinse the nose by sniffing up water; to wash the whole head and cleanse the ears inside and out; to comb the beard with the fingers; to spread out fingers and toes when washing them; to wash the right hand and right foot before the left hand and left foot and to repeat all this thrice in succession.”