Emerald broke off in mid-sentence. His eyes grew wide and he shot out an arm and pointed with a trembling finger.
‘A peri! I see a peri! In that drain over there – the one that is blocked with leaves. If you hurry, you may catch it, but I believe the little creature must be trapped in the drain.’
Anadil and Perizade hurried over to the drain. Orkhan would have followed them, but Emerald seized him by the arm.
‘Why am I telling you the story of my long struggle with the peris? For the mere pleasure of telling stories? I think not. Everyone knows that nothing is more important for a story than that it should have an uplifting moral. A story must have a message and the message of my story was destined for your ears alone … for I see you walking so dociley between those two women, following wherever Anadil takes you, as if you were a little lamb that she had on a lead. Beware of going where Anadil wants to take you! It does not have to be like that. I told my story in order to show you that anyone can take their destiny into their hands. When I was young, I kept suffering the pangs of lust for women. But I did something about it and arranged to have my prick and balls cut off. My problem was solved. When I discovered that the Harem was crawling with peris, did I lie down and let them crawl all over me too? I did not! And when I found that underwear was a problem, did I let the concubines have their way with these garments? I did not! I tugged the knickers off their bodies and made a great bonfire. I recall that the little wisps of silk carried up tongues of flame to float in the air, before descending as black rain … And when I discovered that the peris were being smuggled into the Harem in cucumbers, did I just wave the vegetables by? Indeed no! I took a scimitar to the problem.’ Emerald raised a declamatory finger. ‘The message of everything that I have been telling you is obvious. Be a man!’
‘I know where I am going,’ said Orkhan.
‘I hope so,’ said Emerald.
The two women rejoined them. Perizade looked disappointed, Anadil looked doubtful.
‘You found nothing?’ asked Emerald. ‘My mind and my eyes must have been wandering. It must have been the shadow of a leaf. It could not have been a peri, for there are no peris in the Harem any longer. I will tell you how that is.’
And he resumed his story.
‘Although I now ceased to see new peris about the place, that still left hundreds of the little folk already in the Harem. What was to be done about them? I went to the Harem’s library and there I consulted The Perfumed Battlefield and the chapter on ‘The Sexual Uses of Domestic Pets’. Having done so, I sent the Agha of the Janissaries to the Animal Market and he came back with three fine Persian cats. I set these cats to hunting peris. Ah, those cats certainly loved their work! I would be sitting quietly in my room with a cat on my lap and not a peri to be seen or heard, as far as I was concerned, but then I would feel and see the cat crouching low on my lap with its spine arching and rippling and it ears pressed back. A moment later, it would shoot off me in pursuit of the invisible peri. They were great hunters those cats and good against cockroaches too. The coming of the cats inaugurated a miniature bloodbath, as a tiny war was fought out in the runnels of gutters and on the tops of wardrobes. The peris had no chance. Early on they tried to charm the cats by playing with their sexual organs, but the cats would lazily let them do that and then, just as lazily, chew them up and so the cats grew fat on fairy meat. As the numbers of the peris diminished, so the concubines grew fatter too. They were sleeping better at night and rosy tints returned to their cheeks.’
‘I believe that I was present at the death of the last peri. The Queen of the peris was stronger and more cunning than most of her subjects and she had hitherto escaped the murderous cats. Azrael and I came across her in one of the flower beds that runs along the edge of the hammam. This Azrael was a rare blue Persian and the grandfather of the cat you saw in my room and he was the best of the hunters – indeed the Angel of Death. I saw the reflection of the peri Queen, sheltering under a rose petal, in the dilation of Azrael’s pupils before I actually saw her running amongst the shrubs and then trying to shin up the wall of the hammam, clinging to its rough surface like a lizard. Azrael had pounced and missed twice on the ground, for she was as fast as mercury, but, once she started climbing, she slowed somewhat and that was her doom. The cat swiped at her with his paw, caught her and played with her a bit, before eating her.’
‘With the peris gone, I was calm once more. The concubines pined somewhat for their vanished little friends and they hated the cats at first, but in time they came to love them – exceedingly so. Things returned to normal in the Harem and it was like a fever that had passed. But you know the saying, ‘Three things are insatiable: the desert, the grave and a woman’s vulva’. The next thing was that I started hearing strange talk about prayer-cushions.’
Emerald paused at a door.
‘Let us go in here. I have something to show you.’
‘Emerald, we should hurry on to the hammam.’
‘This will only take a moment,’ he replied reassuringly. ‘It is something to see.’
They followed the eunuch into a lumber room, full of discarded objects of pleasure – a couple of unstrung dulcimers, some archery quivers whose stitching had come loose, a leather mattress, some boxes of white crystals, the effigy of a woman stuffed with straw. Orkhan had briefly fantasised that the eunuch had brought them there to show them a prayer-cushion, but, no, Emerald brought them over to a table on which there was a model of a building – or rather of a group of buildings.
‘I confiscated it from the concubines,’ said Emerald.
Looking closer Orkhan saw that it was a miniature, wooden replica of the Harem. First, he found the Cage and the Passage Where the Jinns Consult. Then, having got his bearings, he found the porcelain pavilion, the chamber of the ice-pit and the zoo.
‘They had made it from thousands of toothpicks, in order to house their peris,’ claimed Emerald.
Anadil looked doubtful.
‘They were going to lodge their favourite peris in these tiny buildings and play harems with them. But I brought in the cats, before its building was quite finished.’ Emerald sighed. ‘The peris used to piss in my eyes at night as I slept, so that I could hardly get the lids apart in the morning and I hated them as much as they hated me. Still it makes me sad to see this fine building so abandoned. I do believe that the girls were going to imprison some of the peris in these toy buildings and keep them there so that they forgot everything about the outside world. I think they were even going to use delicate little needles to make a few of the peris into eunuchs. I should like to have seen that….’
Back in the corridor, Orkhan heard Anadil whispering to Perizade,
‘Emerald’s stories are ridiculous. Still, he is a great lover … even though the business with the chocolates is a bit messy.’
The eunuch’s former sunniness had by now quite vanished. He was a sombre and silent escort for the remainder of their walk to the hammam.
CHAPTER SEVEN
WATER SPORTS
A few more steps brought them to the Imperial Laundry. Perizade went in to find Orkhan a clean robe. He caught a glimpse of vast vats and mangles and of hefty women using great wooden paddles to stir the vats. There was a stale reek of damp clothes. When Perizade re-emerged with the robe, Anadil said,
‘Say goodbye to Perizade. She has to go back to her work now.’
But Orkhan took her in his arms,
‘Do not leave me, Perizade. I need you.’
And, blushing, she whispered back,
‘I know that I am queen of your heart, for it is written on the folds of my cunt.’
And they kissed.
Anadil was furious,
‘You have to come with me! The ladies of the Harem are waiting for you. Go back to work, Perizade!’ And, as Perizade reluctantly re-entered the laundry, Anadil continued, ‘Perizade is too stupid to understand our mysteries. That is why she is a washerwoman and not a concubine. Now, it is time to c
lean you up.’
The laundry and the hammam were next door to one another, for they both drew on the same system of hot-water pipes. The approach to the hammam was lined by a corps of eunuchs bearing scimitars.
‘It is time you were washed and perfumed. We cannot let your mother see you looking like this.’
Emerald and the deaf mutes joined the other guards at the door of the hammam, as if the place was about to become Orkhan’s prison. Anadil took him by the hand and together they descended into the changing room. First Anadil undressed Orkhan. He hated to see how his cock stiffened in response to her delicate fingers, for by now he knew that he detested Anadil. And, as she looked into his eyes, it was clear that she knew it too, but she licked her lips and turned to press her flank against his groin, before asking him to unhook her dress.
A little black girl entered and served them wine. Anadil drew Orkhan down onto the cushions and pressed cup after cup on him, saying that he would find it easier to face what was coming if he had drunk a little.
‘First there will be an opportunity to practise the Dolorous Gaze on ordinary girls,’ she said. ‘You may look, but not touch, for in that way your desire will be intensified. We need to intensify your desire. Have some more wine and watch me.’
Like a serpent uncoiling, she rose from the cushions and began to dance. He heard the slap of her feet on the stone and the jangle of her anklets as she moved, but she seemed to dance to a music that was inaudible to ordinary mortals. Orkhan thought with regret of Perizade. He now knew that he hated Anadil, yet at the same time, as he watched Anadil dance, he was aware that she had drawn him into her thrall once more. Swivel-hipped, she came up close and stood over him and thrust her belly at his face and made its muscles roll and ripple. She turned and shook her bottom, so that its flesh seemed to shimmer before his eyes. Then she retreated and, with her head at an angle, she undulated and arched her back and rose on her toes, as if she were making love standing up to a creature made of air. She was glowing and sweating gently and her face was soft and dreamy. Then she seemed to remember Orkhan and moved in a serpentine glide towards him once more and drew her hands up over her thighs and hips. He thought that he might choke in the clouds of her bitter perfume.
‘I want to hear that you worship me,’ she said. ‘I want to hear that you will do anything I ask of you.’
Orkhan was trembling. Simultaneously, crazed and sane, he knew that some mad thing must follow her request, but at the same time, he knew that his lust for her was such that there was no power in him to refuse her anything she might ask for.
He threw himself forward to kiss her feet and, having done so, heard himself saying,
‘I worship you, Anadil. I am your slave and will do anything you require of me.’
Anadil had her hands on her hips. She had been dancing as if her life had depended on it, but now she looked coolly down on him and replied,
‘But I remember that only yesterday you were ready to have me executed. Now you have learnt something, have you not? You want me so much … As I stand here, I could urinate all over you. Would you dare stop me?’
‘If my mistress pleases … ’
‘Well as it happens, I prefer to urinate in private and I am not accustomed to pee over men. Orkhan, my business with you is all but finished. I will kiss you once more, but that will only be when you are dead. Now pick up my clothes and deliver them to one of the slaves outside, so that they can be taken off to the laundry. Then it is time for you to be washed, perfumed and massaged.’
Orkhan did as he was told. Then she took him by the hand and led him through a series of small cells, flagged and furnished in marble. The wet floors were treacherous underfoot. They passed through a slightly larger room, a tepidarium, where a couple of women lay on stone slabs sweating into their towels and from there they passed into the calidarium.
By now Orkhan was beyond surprise. The calidarium was vast and sulphorous and shafts of sunlight from the leaded widows in the roof streamed down between the clouds of steam and incense which rose from the water. Orkhan had never seen so much water before. The place was full of naked women who appeared and disappeared in those clouds. A few of the women splashed about in the water or sported round the central fountain which was fashioned in the form of a trio of entwined serpents. Another gang of women were running a race around the pool’s edge, their breasts flapping wildly as they ran. Others at the far end of the calidarium were dancing and singing as they danced. These women paid no attention to Orkhan and Anadil, but others seated and sprawled around the edge of the calidarium turned to look at them as they entered. Some hunched over the incense braziers, drinking wine or braiding each other’s hair. Bowls of cucumbers and hard-boiled eggs had been placed here and there throughout the hammam and some women picnicked on these. A couple of elderly concubines smoked long chibouk pipes. One was at work with a depilatory brush. So many naked bodies, running, sitting, lying, fondling, squatting, standing, bending, caressing, writhing, imploring – it ought to have been Paradise, yet to Orkhan, who longed to escape from it, it was more like a vision of the Last Judgement.
Then in between the surges of the women’s singing, Orkhan heard a man’s voice,
‘I would not say that my wife is ugly but … ’
It was the Vizier. Like everyone else he was naked. He stood near the edge of the pool, surrounded by a group of young concubines and he was juggling eggs and cucumbers as he continued to describe his wife.
‘… but she is an acceptable substitute for masturbation, if I concentrate and use my imagination.’
‘What is the Vizier doing here?’
‘Oh Orkhan, don’t be such a bore. Surely you must have guessed by now? He’s not the real Vizier. The real Vizier would never be allowed to set foot in the Harem. That little man is just one of the Harem’s buffoons. We appointed him to play the Vizier. He is, like most of what you have encountered, just part of our charade.’
Anadil summoned over a dark-skinned young woman.
‘This is Afsana. She invents the stories for us to play out. She gives us our roles and makes sure we know our lines.’
Afsana looked modestly down.
Anadil continued,
‘It would be so boring otherwise, just sitting around in the Harem, waiting for a man to appear. We all take turns at playing the different parts. Otherwise, even the masquerade would get dull. But now the time for games is almost over,’ concluded Anadil regretfully.
‘So the Prayer-Cushion cult is all just a game you have invented to while away your captivity?’
Anadil looked shocked,
‘Holy Mother, no! No, the way of the Prayer-Cushion is sacred truth. All our masques and games are part of our service as Prayer-Cushions – part of our the quest for the Holy Rapture and an expression of our desire to serve you.’
Anadil might have said more, but at that moment, three young concubines, who had been running round the edge of the pool, came trotting up to Orkhan.
‘Would you like to race with us?’ asked the first concubine breathlessly. ‘My name is Gulanar.’
‘And I am Najma.’
‘And I Parvana.’
They crowded round Orkhan.
‘If you catch one of us, you can do with her as you please,’ said Najma.
‘I can do with you as I please already,’ said Orkhan.
‘Well, you will have to catch us first,’ said Parvana and with that she tweaked at his penis. At that same moment, Najma pulled his nose and Gulanar slapped at his bottom. Then they turned and, like startled deer, broke into a run. Without thinking, Orkhan started to run after them. The marble floor was hot and slippery and he was somewhat drunk. The shrieks of the other concubines who sat and watched the runners echoed and re-echoed in the muffled acoustics of the hammam. As Parvana, who led the running concubines, pushed past the Vizier, the circle of boiled eggs and cucumbers that the latter had been keeping going in the air fell to the ground and were trampled underfoot.
Gulanar was an ungainly runner and soon fell behind the others and, when she looked back, this slowed her yet further. Orkhan was almost upon her and ready to lunge and catch at her waist when, with a squeal of alarm, she leapt sideways and hurled herself into the water. Najma and Parvana now stopped running and waited until Orkhan was almost upon them before following Gulanar into the pool. The breasts of the trio of concubines seemed to float on the water and the sunlight rippled over their bodies in quavering patterns. They splashed up at Orkhan.
‘You have not caught us yet!’ taunted Najma. ‘You will have to join us in the water.
‘Please come and play with us here,’ added Gulanar.
And then the three maidens began to sing a strange, senseless song of enchantment,
‘Wagala Weia! Wagala, weiala weia!
Wallala! Wallala! Heia! Ha ha!’
As they sang, they swam towards the pool’s edge where Orkhan was standing.
‘It is better under water,’ said Parvana and she pulled at Orkhan’s ankles so that he toppled in.
They swam around him, splashing water in his face. They were laughing at him, but he stood terrified and hesitating, for he had never been in a pool of water before. Their soft bellies and thighs trembled in the water’s movement. He made a lunge for Najma. She dived below the surface and, after hesitating an instant, he followed. He had his hands around her hips, but then he was being pulled back by one of the other concubines, and eel-like Najma slithered free of his embrace. Orkhan turned to confront Gulanar who continued to undulate seductively beneath the surface and baited him with her breasts. He waded towards her and then plunged beneath the surface. He felt something nip at his inner thigh. It was Parvana who nibbled at the insides of his legs with her teeth. He was about to turn on her when a pair of hands closed over his eyes. He had to break free and surface for air.
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