There was ferment throughout the entire region of Rudbar. The people, who for ages had quietly been worshipping Ali and hated the sultan just as much as they hated the caliph of Baghdad, celebrated the Ismaili victory as their own. In the first days following the battle, new believers began arriving at the castle to enter the service of the supreme commander. Abu Ali had his hands full dealing with them. He selected the youngest and strongest for the school for fedayeen. Manuchehr used the others to form new units. Many of the older soldiers who had distinguished themselves in the battle were promoted to sergeant. Former sergeants and corporals advanced to still higher grades. Barely ten days after the victory, the army had been augmented by three new units of a hundred men each.
“We’re going to have to rework the whole system from scratch and issue new rules,” Hasan told his two grand dais, “so that these disorderly mobs turn into a unified army that recognizes a single doctrine and just one common leader. Mohammed was right to forbid wine to the faithful. We’d be stupid not to follow his example in this regard. Because we need hardened units and outstanding, decisive individuals more than we need huge masses, our commandments need to be as strict and precise as possible. And we have to make sure that they’re carried out, at all costs.”
And so on the day when the three new units were sworn in, instead of the noisy celebration that everyone expected, Abu Ali read aloud a series of new laws and regulations.
“The death penalty applies to anyone who opposes an officer; to anyone who fails to carry out an order, unless prevented from so doing by a higher power; to anyone who kills another Ismaili premeditatedly or in a fit of passion; to anyone who speaks disrespectfully of the supreme commander or criticizes him; to anyone who drinks wine or any other intoxicating drink; to anyone who indulges in debauchery.”
Strict corporal and moral punishments were also decreed for those who indulged in worldly entertainments; who produced or listened to fine music; who danced or enjoyed the dancing of others; who read corrupting books or listened to others reading from them.
New ranks were introduced into the hierarchy itself. Regional dais were established between dais and grand dais. Every able-bodied believer was automatically a soldier. A special school was established for the refiqs who were to educate them. A new curriculum was devised for all of the men. In addition to military arts, they would be required to study dogma and Ismaili history.
Henceforth the fedayeen received independent assignments that corresponded to each individual’s abilities. Jafar became the regular express messenger between Alamut and Muzaffar in Rai. Naim taught the new recruits dogma, ibn Tahir taught them history and geography, and Yusuf and Suleiman trained fedayeen novices in the military arts. Every morning they led them out of the castle to the plateau, as Manuchehr had once done. Cunning Obeida became the leader of a small unit of scouts and kept track of the movements of the sultan’s army with their help. Abdur Ahman, ibn Vakas, Abdallah and Halfa were assigned to him as assistants, and soon they knew every footpath between Qazvin, Rai and Alamut. Within no time they guessed the intentions of Emir Arslan Tash, who had split his forces between Qazvin and Rai in order to cut Alamut off from the rest of the world completely and trap it in the foothills of the Elburz Mountains, across which there was no escaping.
The captured Turks, nearly all of them heavily wounded, were treated well, to their considerable surprise. Under the skilled hands of the doctor and his assistants, their wounds healed quickly. They spent the days in their quarters, but in the evenings they came out to take in the cool air in a caged area behind one of the barracks.
The medics and the soldiers who brought them food and water came to engage them in conversation more and more often. The prisoners listened wide-eyed to tales about the fedayeen who had spent a night in paradise, and about the unprecedented power that Allah had given to Sayyiduna. They were amazed by the Ismailis’ unwavering faith in victory. They asked them about the evidence and causes of that confidence. The answer was always the same: that Sayyiduna was a great prophet who would come to rule over the Islamic world.
Occasionally this or that dai, or even Abu Ali himself, visited the prisoners. He would ask them about particulars of the sultan’s army, but also about their education and religious convictions. He would explain Ismaili doctrine, with the help of which their commander was going to establish the rule of justice and truth on earth. This, but even more the candor and good treatment, had the effect of shaking their convictions and creating fertile ground in them for the acceptance of Ismaili teachings.
Hasan ordered the release of those prisoners who, because of wounds, had had to have an arm or a leg amputated or were otherwise severely crippled. He wanted them to tell their comrades in the sultan’s army about Alamut and the Ismaili faith and thus imperceptibly undermine their resolve. They prepared litters for them on camels, and an armed guard escorted them to Qazvin, where they were given free passage.
Although Suleiman and Yusuf had slept well the first night after their visit to the gardens, toward evening on the following day they began to feel unusually anxious. They were both irritable, they felt as though something were missing, and they couldn’t go to sleep. Each of them took a separate walk through the trenches and eventually met there.
“I’m thirsty,” Yusuf said.
“There’s enough water in Shah Rud.”
“You’re welcome to drink that.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve gotten addicted to wine.”
Suleiman sneered at him, and Yusuf glowered back.
“The trumpet has already sounded lights out.”
“Why are you telling me that? You go ahead.”
They sat down on the battlements and listened to the roar of the river for a while without speaking.
“I sense that you want to tell me something.”
Suleiman asked the question half mockingly, half out of curiosity.
Yusuf kept testing the waters.
“Don’t you miss anything?”
“Talk plainly. What’s bothering you?”
“I feel like I’ve got embers moving through my guts. My head aches. I’m unbearably thirsty.”
“So why won’t you drink some water?”
“I do, over and over, and it’s like I’m drinking air. I’m still thirsty.”
“I know. It’s those damned pellets. If I could have one now, I’d calm down again.”
“Do you think Sayyiduna is going to send us back to paradise soon?”
“How should I know? When I think of that night, I get so feverish I could melt.”
A guard walked past carrying a torch. They crouched behind a battlement.
“Let’s go. We can’t let them catch us here,” Suleiman said.
Cautiously they crept into their sleeping quarters.
Their comrades were already asleep. Only ibn Tahir was half-upright in bed. He appeared to be listening in on something. He gave a start when he noticed the two coming in.
“Not asleep yet?” Suleiman asked.
“Same as the two of you.”
The latecomers undressed and lay down in their beds. It was stuffy and hot in the room, and they were infernally thirsty.
“Phew, damned sorcery,” Suleiman muttered and turned over on his other side with a sigh.
“Too many memories to sleep?” ibn Tahir asked.
“I could use some wine now.”
“Are the two of you not planning to sleep at all tonight?”
Yusuf’s voice sounded gruff.
“Maybe you think you are?”
Suleiman taunted him angrily. He felt ready to jump out of his skin.