by Mika Waltari
This was the bitterest cup of all, but the unknown Michael saw through me and I could only mourn, “You are right. I lost nothing when I denied my faith, for in me there was not faith equal to a grain of mustard seed. If there had been I would have died for it. My pilgrim’s cloak was a brazen lie. Until today my whole life has been a He. But I would rather bite my tongue off than admit this even to myself. For what is left of me then?”
When I had said these words I felt for the first time a hint of peace in my soul. The stern judge within me said more gently, “Now at last we have reached the kernel of the matter, my poor boy. But let us go yet a step further, if we can bear to do it. Perhaps after all we can be friends. Look into yourself, Michael, and confess. In your heart, are you really as unhappy as you make out?”
When he had said this I looked again into that inner emptiness and marveled to feel a dim, uncertain yet most glorious happiness dawning in the void. It was a happiness of the soul, because I had searched myself, cleansed myself, and was preparing now to begin again from the beginning. And so I answered meekly, “You are right, unknown man within me. Now that you have crushed and ground me to powder I am no longer so very unhappy. In fact I have never known such spiritual joy before, or even thought it possible. But now, destitute as I am, renegade to my faith, with nothing to look forward to but the fetters of slavery, I am reconciled with you and therefore I am happy. But whether you are of God or of Satan I dare not guess.”
The unseen judge was wroth at this, and demanded, “Michael, Michael, what do you know of God or Satan?”
To preserve my new-found peace I confessed hurriedly, “Nothing, truly, nothing, incorruptible Michael. But who are you?”
He answered, “I am. This you know, and it is enough.”
The words bowed me to the earth and filled me with such overwhelming happiness that I thought my heart would burst. Tears of joy rose to my eyes and I said, “You are within me. This I know, and it is enough. Be it so; the one incorruptible judge of all I am and do has his dwelling in my own heart, and stands above all understanding and all knowledge. For swift as thought you answer my questions with a voice that cannot be stifled; nor will I seek to stifle it, although hitherto I have so consistently turned a deaf ear.”
Still happier was I to feel my dog softly creeping into my arms. He had gnawed through the thong with which Torgut had tethered him, and having found me he licked my ear, pressed his nose to my cheek, and curled up comfortably with a long sigh of content. I too sighed deeply and fell asleep.
We cruised all next day, combing the coastal waters until we sighted a sail similar to our own. On approaching we beheld a vessel whose hull and rigging had been badly damaged by roundshot. We could hear the cries of the wounded while yet at some distance; there was little life left among the rowers, and of the rest of the crew hardly more than half were fit for combat. The captain had been killed and his body thrown into the sea, and a terrified renegade had taken command. This man now touched his forehead, bowed low before Torgut and said, “By the favor of Allah you had three ships under your command, Torgut-reis.”
“Allah abar” returned Torgut impatiently, and although he guessed what had happened and his limbs trembled with rage, he controlled himself. “So it was written. Speak!”
It appeared that when the gale had separated Torgut from his other two ships, these found each other, and together attacked a merchantman of the convoy. But the roar of her guns brought the war galley speeding to her assistance, and one of the pirate vessels, which had not had time to cast off from her, had been crushed between the two hulls.
“And you? What did you do to help?” inquired Torgut with deceptive gentleness.
“Lord,” answered the renegade frankly. “I freed the grapnels and we made off as quickly as the oars could take us. Under Allah you have only me and my presence of mind to thank for saving even one ship, for the war galley followed in pursuit and fired its frightful guns at us. Judge from our condition how hard we fought. We fled not to avoid battle but to find you and confer as to what had best be done.”
Torgut was no fool. He put a good face on it, and repeated several times, “Allah is great,” after which he embraced the frightened renegade and spoke to him kindly. And although he would clearly have preferred to kick him overboard he praised his resourcefulness in the hearing of all. Then, having bestowed upon him many beautiful presents, and distributed silver coin among the crew, he caused both vessels to set a course for the island of Jerba, off the African coast. After this he retired to his tent and for two days and nights he never showed his face, even at the hours of prayer.
During this time the crew also were dejected, no doubt dreading their return; for they had lost one of three ships and suffered severe damage to another, while the spoils they brought were not worth mentioning. Soon they must meet Sinan the Jew, the Governor of Jerba, and render an account to him of all they had done.
In his melancholy, Torgut drove Giulia from the tent, and I asked her anxiously, “How are you, Giulia, and what dreadful things have happened? Has that repulsive Torgut offended you?”
Giulia withdrew her hand from mine and answered, “No. When he had assured himself as to whether or not I was a virgin he never molested me; on the contrary he has behaved to me like any well- mannered captain and even allows me the same food as himself.”
I only half believed her, and asked yet again, “Is that true? Has he really not molested you?”
Giulia wept, and said, “I was ready to plunge a dagger into my breast-or so I fancy, but I was very much confused when I was led into his tent. He conquered my fears however, and was afterward careful not to insult me; from this I see that even infidels shun me for my eyes’ sake, although I had hoped, when once beyond the borders of Christendom, that I should no longer have to suffer for what I cannot help.”
Despite my relief that no evil had befallen her, I was shocked, and said reproachfully as I took her hand again, “Giulia, Giulia, what are you thinking of, to mourn and complain because this ruthless man spared your virtue?”
She snatched away her hand to dry her tears, and her eyes of different colors blazed with rage as she retorted, “Like all men you’re denser than you look. If he’d touched me I would have stabbed myself-I think. I weep because he never even tried, but withdrew at once and began mumbling his prayers. I can only suppose that he feared my eyes, and his revulsion wounds me deeply. It seems I am unfit even for heathens.”
I could make nothing of this, except that she was out of her mind with horror at having fallen into slavery, and I consoled her as best I could, saying that to me she was lovely and desirable and that her eyes did not repel me at all; that on the contrary I bitterly regretted my stupidity in drawing back from her at so auspicious a moment. She grew calmer and at last said hopefully, “Captain Torgut expects to get a good price for me in Jerba, and he told me that was why he spared my virtue. But it must have been mere politeness, for if he had really liked me he would have kept me for himself.”
I was enraged at her unreasonable attitude, and more maddened still to think that I must lose her and perhaps never see her again. The blue and brown brilliance of her eyes was so enchanting that I could not imagine how I had ever feared her.
“Giulia, Giulia! Only old men are rich, and some repulsive gray- beard will buy you. Why didn’t I take you while I could, so that at least we could have shared the memory? Now there will never be anything for us to share.”
But at this she stared at me in amazement.
“You take too much for granted. If you’d tried to do any such thing I would have scratched your face.”
“Then why did you come with me to that lonely place, and why were you so angry when your eyes aroused in me the feelings rather of a brother than of a lover?”
Giulia shook her head slightly and sighed.
“If I talked till doomsday you’d never understand. Of course I hoped that you would try, and perhaps you might have succeeded, as
the place was deserted and you are stronger than I. But you did not try, Michael, and that is what I can never forgive you. I hope you will come to suffer bitterly for my sake. My dearest wish is that you may see others pay sacks of gold for what you might have had for nothing. This may give you something to think about for a long time to come.”
I perceived that I understood little of feminine logic. She veiled her face once more and left me alone, a prey to exceedingly confused ideas. In her present mood I hardly recognized the modest, straightforward woman I had known.
That night I beheld such a shower of falling stars that for a moment the dark sky seemed strewn with sparks. The man at the steering oar murmured Arabic words, and when I asked him what they meant he answered, “I trust in God and not the devil stoned.” He explained that Allah used the lower stars to throw at the devil, and so it was a good omen that Allah should be doing this as we neared the isle of Jerba.
The explanation seemed to me childish, but I said nothing-only sighed and thought of the slavery awaiting me.
Next day we entered Jerba harbor. Torgut appeared on deck to lead the prayers and the whole crew donned their finest clothes. They avoided blue, I soon learned, because it was the Christian color, and also yellow, which was the color of the Jews. Both Andy and I were given a clean strip of stuff to bind in a turban round our heads. As I could do no more for my own adornment, I washed the dog, despite vigorous opposition, and combed his curly coat with my fingers.
The low, sandy isle beneath a burning sun presented no very cheering prospect. As we drew level with the beacon at the mouth of the harbor, Torgut ordered a shot to be fired from his light harquebus only, to show that this time his spoils were little to boast of. I saw the low cupola and white minaret of the mosque, a swarm of mud huts and, on a green mound, the walled residence of Sinan the Jew. But the governor did not ride down in state to meet us, as no doubt he would have ridden if we had arrived firing a salute of cannon and flying the flags of victory. Only a gang of ragamuffins had collected on the beach, and the harbor felt like a glowing oven as we entered it from the cool sea.
Despite our fine clothes and flashing weapons we looked a pitiful little group as we set off along the dusty bridle track to Sinan’s kasbah. At our head walked the Negro with the scimitar, carrying on his back the sack full of Christian heads. After him, their hands bound behind them, came the four seamen who had been found suitable for the galleys. Andy and I walked with a chain about our necks although we had accepted the one God and therefore ought not to have been bound. In happy ignorance of our slavery and the Law of the Prophet my dog followed close at heel sniffing avidly at all the new smells, which were indeed plentiful in this squalid haunt. Next came the galley slaves carrying the plunder, which had been divided up into many bundles and boxes to make it seem more than it was. Lastly followed Captain Torgut and his men, who strove to utter cries of triumph. The townspeople hurried after us too, politely screaming out their blessings in the name of Allah. Only the merchants, gathered in front of their booths, pointed contemptuously at us with their thumbs. Giulia had been arrayed in her best clothes and now rode heavily veiled upon a donkey immediately behind Torgut, attended by four men armed with scimitars.
The gates of the kasbah were opened wide, and on either side of them we saw sun-dried human heads, impaled on hooks fixed to the wall. In the middle of the great courtyard was a basin of hewn stone surrounded by grass. Prisoners and slaves who lay dozing in the shade sat up and gazed at us dully. Torgut, having sent his men in with the booty, left them to wait by the well. Andy and I were also left alone and Giulia dismounted from her donkey to join us. To show compassion in the name of Allah, Torgut’s men loosed the seamen’s bonds and let them drink from the fountain. I drank, too, for a beautifully wrought copper cup was chained to the rim, and I marveled at the excellence of the water, having yet to learn that by the commandment of the Koran there must always and in every place be fresh water available to the thirsty.
Sinan the Jew was in no hurry to see us, and Torgut’s men squatted patiently down upon the ground to wait. Andy was astonished, and remarked, “The customs of sea warfare are evidently different from those on land, for if these lads had been Germans or Spaniards they’d have had a good fire going by now and a roast and casks of ale, and the wine jar would be passing from hand to hand; there’d be swearing and brawling and dicing, with the camp drabs busy in the shade of the wall. We’ve come a long way from Christendom.”
While Andy was yet speaking, Captain Torgut’s savage Negro stepped up to him, bringing an Italian as interpreter, who said, “Mus- suf the Negro is angry because you treacherously seized him from behind and threw him into the sea. He could not be revenged at that time, since the Law of the Prophet forbids dispute among the faithful in time of battle. But now he would measure his strength with you.”
Andy could hardly believe his ears.
“Dares that poor wretch really challenge me? Tell him I’m too strong to fight with him, and let him go in peace.”
The Negro jumped up and down, rolled his eyes, and insulted Andy, beating himself on the chest and tensing his muscles. Andy, to give friendly warning of his own strength, rose from the millstone he had been sitting on, bent down to grasp it and lifted it smoothly above his head. Not content with this he put his left hand behind him and held the huge stone on his right hand alone. When Torgut’s men saw this, many of them rose and gathered about him, until he let the stone fall to the ground with a mighty thud.
The Negro in his turn bent down and with enormous effort raised the stone in his arms; but twist and struggle as he might he could not lift it above his head. His legs began to tremble; he dropped the stone and if Andy had not skipped aside his toes would have been crushed. He admonished the Negro mildly, but the man rolled his eyes worse than ever, and the Italian said, “Be on your guard, for Mussuf threatens to throw you over the wall. But if you’ll try an honest fall with him he’ll not be too rough with you.”
Andy put both hands to his head.
“One of us three is mad. But I’ve warned the fellow; now he shall get what he asks for.”
He took off the garment that he had been given to protect his back from the sun, and stepped up to the Negro. After that all I could see was a whirling tangle of arms and legs, until suddenly Andy flew into the air, to land on his back with such a crash that he lay there astounded and unable to believe his senses. The Negro burst into joyous laughter, so that his teeth gleamed white in his black face, but it was clear that he bore Andy no ill will.
Seeing him lie there motionless I hurried over to him, but he thrust me aside, sat up and asked where he was and what had happened. I fancied that he was play-acting and that he had let the Negro win, to flatter him. But Andy felt his limbs and back and said, “There must have been some mistake, and I can’t for the life of me make out how I come to be sitting on the ground while that black fellow’s on his legs, sniggering.”
He got to his feet again, flushing darkly, and hurled himself with a roar at his adversary, so that for a while nothing was to be heard but the fearsome cracking of bones and sinews. Then as if by magic Andy was lifted once more into the air, and the Negro tossed him backward over his shoulder, without even turning to see what became of him. The sight so horrified me that from force of habit I crossed myself. Andy staggered up on trembling legs and said, “Turn away your head, Michael; don’t look at me. I don’t understand what’s happening to me, unless I’ve fallen foul of Satan himself. But the third time’s lucky, and I’ll get a grip of this oily devil somehow, if I have to break his bones to do it.”
Once more he made a violent rush, the dust swirling about his feet. But the Negro handled him seemingly without effort, and at length grasping him by wrist and leg he began whirling him madly round and round. Then he let go, so that Andy thudded to the ground and rolled some distance in a cloud of dust. When I reached him I saw that his shoulders had been cut by the stones and that blood was pouring from
his nose.
“Easy, Michael, easy,” he panted, with a face like thunder. “I tackled him carelessly, and he got the better of me by some trick.”
He would have charged in again, but the Italian renegade came soothingly toward him and said, “Let that be enough, now, and pray harbor no ill feelings. Mussuf has none. You needn’t be ashamed to acknowledge him the victor, for he’s a renowned guresh, or wrestler. He has thrown you three times running. Come, then, admit yourself fairly beaten. He owns that you’re the most powerful man he’s ever met.”
Andy was unappeased. His eyes were bloodshot as he thrust the renegade aside, and he was on the point of hurling himself yet again at the Negro when Captain Torgut appeared at the entrance to the palace and ordered us sharply to make an end of our sport. Andy was compelled to choke back his rage, wipe the blood from his face, and cover his flayed back, while the Negro threw out his chest like a fighting cock and strolled over to the group of renegades to receive their praise.
I was crestfallen on Andy’s account, and strove to comfort myself with the thought that the sea voyage had not suited him and that he had been weakened by poor food. But I had little time to brood over our disgrace, for Captain Torgut ordered us abruptly to enter the palace and present ourselves before his lord, Sinan the Jew. We were led through the building into an inner courtyard bounded on all sides by a cool colonnade and made beautiful by many varied fruit trees. Beneath a roof supported by pillars sat Sinan the Jew. He had one eye, a thin nose, and a sparse beard, and wore a plume in his turban. He was not long past middle age and his lean face was that of a warrior, though for the moment he was content to sit cross legged on a cushion.
He began by surveying the four poor seamen, but found little to interest him there, and he dismissed them with a disdainful jerk of his thumb. Then fixing his eye on Andy and me he said in Italian, “So you have taken the turban, in the name of Allah the Compassionate. You have well chosen, and if you prove diligent in the faith it will be accounted to you for merit and you will be admitted to Paradise with its rippling water brooks. But,” he went on with a malicious smile, “here on earth you are slaves, and don’t imagine that the Law of the
