“Oh, I’m thirsty,” he whispered.
She nodded and Sara brought a dish of cold milk. He took it out of her hands and greedily emptied it.
“I feel reborn,” he said, and a smile passed across his face.
“Come. Let’s bathe you,” Fatima said.
“All right. But look away.”
They obeyed him. Sara and Zainab giggled furtively.
“What are you laughing at?” he asked mistrustfully as he undressed.
“It’s the custom here!”
He slid into the water.
“How nice and warm it is,” he reveled.
His dizziness had passed. He was still amazed, but at the same time felt more relaxed.
“Give me a towel,” he asked out loud.
In an instant he had what he wanted.
“I’d like to see you bathe too.”
Fatima nodded. They unwound themselves from their veils and climbed into the water. Halima hid, but Sara led her to the pool. They began splashing each other. Shouts and laughter began echoing through the pavilion.
Suleiman pulled on his robe and lay down on the pillows.
“This place is really fun,” he said, smiling.
He felt weak and enormously hungry. He looked with covetous eyes at the food waiting on the tables in the corner.
Fatima dressed and approached him.
“Are you hungry, Suleiman?” she asked with angelic charm.
“I’ll say.”
They served him quickly.
He lit into the food like a starved wolf. His strength visibly began to return.
“Pour him some wine!” Fatima whispered.
He drank it in huge gulps. He looked at the beauties who were serving him. Their skin gleamed through their veils. He started getting dizzy with desire.
“Is all this mine?” he asked.
As a test he seized Aisha by the hand and pulled her toward him. She didn’t resist.
Right after her, Leila snuggled up to him.
“Get him drunk, charm, seduce him,” Fatima was telling the girls in a whisper.
The wine gradually went to his head.
“By the beard of the martyr Ali!” he exclaimed. “Sayyiduna was telling the truth. He really does have the key to the gates of paradise.”
He hugged and kissed them all, one after the other.
“I just hope I haven’t died,” he suddenly worried.
“Don’t be afraid,” Fatima reassured him. “Tomorrow you’ll be back at Alamut serving Sayyiduna.”
“Do you know him too?”
“We’re in paradise!”
“Then you also know that we gave it to the infidels this morning?”
“Of course we know. You pursued the Turks and ibn Tahir seized the enemy flag.”
“Allah is great! If I told this to Naim or Obeida, they’d laugh in my face.”
“Is their faith so weak?”
“By the beard of the Prophet, I wouldn’t believe it either, if the two of them told me something like this. Where are ibn Tahir and Yusuf?”
“Also in paradise, like you. Once you’re back in the other world, you can meet and tell each other what you’ve seen and experienced.”
“It’s true, in Allah’s name. Strange things can happen to an honest Muslim.”
Feeling pleasantly tipsy, he began to tell them about Alamut, about his teachers and comrades and about that morning’s battle with the Turks.
The girls sat around and listened to him, their hearts smitten. His was the first manhood they had felt in these gardens, and he was a magnificent boy, on top of it all. One after the other, they each fell in love with him.
Fatima sat down with her harp and began plucking the strings and humming softly. Now and then she cast a loving glance at him.
“Fatima is composing a poem,” Khanum whispered.
Halima was hiding behind her. She had her fingers over Khanum’s shoulders and stole a glance at Suleiman from time to time. She liked him very much. His confident storytelling, his forthright, hearty laughter, his boldness—all of this charmed her. She was angry at herself for it, but she was already quite bedazzled.
From time to time as he spoke, he caught the admiring look of her eyes. Besides that and the fingers on Khanum’s shoulders, he couldn’t see a thing. He thought for a moment and realized he hadn’t touched her yet. He already knew Fatima, Sara, Zainab, Aisha and Leila by name.
“Who’s the little one hiding behind your back?” he asked Khanum.
“Halima.”
They all laughed.
Suleiman looked around in confusion. The fingers and big eyes had suddenly disappeared behind Khanum.
“Come closer, Halima,” he said. “I haven’t even seen you yet.”
Khanum, Shehera and some others grabbed her and pushed her toward Suleiman. Convulsively, she clung onto carpets and pillows and dragged them all with her.
“Is the little scamp still so shy?”
“Yes, she is. She’s even afraid of lizards and snakes.”
“But you won’t be afraid of me, will you? I’m not a Turk or some other infidel. They’re usually the ones who are afraid of me.”
He tried to kiss her. But she slipped away from him and stubbornly hung her head.
“What does that mean?” he was perplexed.
Fatima made some noise in the corner. Halima at once put her arms around his neck and hid her face on his chest.
“I can’t stand having them around me,” she whispered.
“All of you go join Fatima,” he ordered.
How wonderfully alluring she is, he thought.
Her arms clasped onto him tighter and tighter. Her face was as hot as forged iron.
“O Allah, how sweet she is,” he whispered and pressed her close.
Then Sara offered him wine. While he drank, Zainab quickly changed the pillows.
“It’s strange, none of them has been this lovely or this sweet,” he murmured.
Halima crept off into a corner and buried her face in some pillows. She dropped off to sleep immediately.
Fatima cleared her throat.
“I’m going to sing a song about this evening,” she said with a charming smile. Dimples showed in her cheeks.
“Excellent!” Suleiman approved. He stretched back on the pillows, cradling his head in his hands.
“Now listen!”
Fatima began, to the accompaniment of her harp.