by Mika Waltari
Giulia covered her eyes with both hands and moaned as if she had had a bad dream. But the Faqih was in no way dismayed by the talk of a coffin; on the contrary the prophecy flattered him, and he said, “These predictions are remarkable, but I hardly think we need put much faith in them. They may have more to do with you, Abu el- Kasim, than with me, and I hardly know what to think; for a poor drug merchant would hardly pay twenty gold pieces just for advice. Let’s have no more beating about the bush; dismiss your slaves that we may talk alone together with none but Allah to hear us.”
Abu el-Kasim sent us away at once and locked the door, setting Andy to guard the outer gate. The learned Faqih remained until late that night, and when at last he departed as secretly as he had come, Abu el-Kasim sent Giulia to bed and summoned me.
“The plans are taking shape,” he said. “Have no fear, Michael el- Hakim; whatever happens the Faqih won’t betray us. True, he won’t risk burning his fingers by making out a fatwa for Delilah, but neither will he interfere, and she may continue plying her trade in the bathhouse.”
Thus Abu el-Kasim drew cautiously at first one thread and then another, knotting them together in a net in whose meshes Selim ben- Hafs would one day be entangled.
But the Faqih’s threats concerning circumcision had filled me with dread and I asked Abu el-Kasim whether Andy and I must indeed submit to so unpleasant an operation. He looked at us scornfully, and having rehearsed the many advantages to be gained by it he ended, “Why oppose it, when by such a trifle you may win the respect of all true believers? On that joyful day you may ride round the city on a white donkey and all devout believers will bring you presents and rejoice at your conversion.”
I replied crossly that I had not the least wish to ride round the city on a white donkey, to be made a public laughingstock, and reminded him that Andy’s progress as a wrestler would be seriously hindered if at this stage he were compelled to lie up with a slow-healing wound in his tenderest part. And I would never consider undergoing it without him, for we were brothers; we hoped to enter Paradise side by side and together enjoy the shade of its fruit trees.
Abu el-Kasim was not deceived by my pious words, and said, “Well! There’s a time for everything, and I shall eagerly await the day when, in accordance with the will of Allah, your brother justifies the high hopes I have of him.”
Nor did he have to wait long. Some days later he climbed on Andy’s shoulders and rode to the market place, and hardly had the wrestlers gathered in a ring with their arms about each other’s shoulders to determine the order of the bouts when a big black fellow appeared, attended by a party of soldiers. He threw out his chest and thumped it with his fists as he challenged, “Iskender, Iskender! Come here and have your ears torn off! After that I’ll attend to Antar, of whom I’ve heard so much.”
The wrestlers muttered uneasily among themselves, and warned Andy, saying, “That is Selim ben-Hafs’s master wrestler. Don’t anger him; let him win and take the money, for then perhaps he’ll leave us in peace and not hurt us. But if you win you’ll be summoned to wrestle before the Sultan, and although at first you may get the better of all his wrestlers, the day will come when you find yourself lying in the sand with a broken neck.”
Andy answered warmly, “Your faith seems weak; you forget that Allah has preordained all things. Go, Iskender, and let him beat you! Then I will tackle him and you shall behold such a match as you’ve never seen before. If it be the will of Allah, this shall be my last bout in the market place; after that I shall appear only before the Sultan and his court.”
At this, great excitement arose among the wrestlers’ patrons, and silver and gold pieces showered onto the cloth. The soldiers formed a circle and thrust back the onlookers, while the Sultan’s master wrestler, ugly and gleaming with oil, jumped up and down in the middle and roared his challenge. Iskender, adjuring him in the name of Allah to observe the rules of “good” wrestling, ran in at him, but it was not long before he was tossed into the air, and fell with a crash. He lay moaning for some time, feeling his arms and legs, but I think he was little harmed by the fall, and behaved thus to flatter his ferocious opponent. Two other men stepped forward and the master wrestler threw them without difficulty. But when he noticed that he was beginning to sweat and pant, he became suspicious and cried, “Where’s that Antar skulking? He’s the man I came for, and I shan’t stay all day for him. My bath awaits me.”
Ignoring the warnings of the rest Andy at once stepped forward. It was clear that the black man held him in great respect, for he circled watchfully about him for some time before suddenly charging in like a bull with his head lowered, meaning to butt Andy in the stomach and wind him. But Andy stepped nimbly aside and getting a mighty grip of the other’s waist flung him high in the air. Like the adept he was, however, he landed on his feet, but at once Andy struck them from under him and he came headlong to the ground with Andy uppermost. Andy took firm hold of the back of his neck and pressing his face to the ground, he cried, “Which of us is biting the dust?”
The other wrestlers uttered warning yells, for in his extremity the brutal black took to “hard” wrestling, and getting his arms round one of Andy’s legs he set his teeth in the calf muscles. If Andy had been able to maintain his grip he would certainly have broken the fellow’s neck, but now pain forced him to loosen it. Soon they were rolling over and over each other on the ground, and I have never in my life seen such a struggle. Now Andy’s head thrust up, now he was down again while the blackamoor jumped on his chest, and would have broken all his ribs but for Andy’s massive build. Bleeding and with torn ears they at last broke loose from each other, and Selim ben- Hafs’s champion had evidently had enough. He was breathless, and letting his arms fall to his sides he spat some blood from his mouth and tried to laugh as he said sourly, “You live up to your reputation, Antar, and know something of ‘hard’ wresding too; but I’ve no right to expose myself to danger in the absence of my master the Sultan. Nor did I fail to notice your underhand stratagem in tempting me to waste my strength before I started on you. So let us continue our match tomorrow, in the presence of the Sultan. I don’t doubt that he will richly reward whichever one of us survives.”
Casting an embarrassed glance around him he wiped the blood from his ears to gain time for recovery. But the crowd uttered wild cheers and their hatred of Selim ben-Hafs found vent in savage abuse of his wrestler.
Andy, breathing hard, yelled, “You bit me in the calf, you swine. Tomorrow my leg will be swollen and I shan’t be at all surprised if your poisonous teeth cause me to run about barking and foaming at the mouth and avoiding water. And it was for the sake of water that I became a follower of the Prophet. But you shall learn tomorrow that I too have teeth-and teeth that can crack marrow bones!”
When the black wresder had gone, followed by his guards, Abu el-Kasim burst out into wild lamentations as usual, and smote Andy over the head with his staff. For if Andy were beaten next day, what was Abu to do with a cripple? And if he won it would be worse, for then Selim ben-Hafs would buy him and Abu would have lost him for good.
But the other wrestlers snatched the stick from his hand and attended us in triumph to our house, where I washed and dressed Andy’s leg wound and anointed his bruises, a task to which I was already well-accustomed.
Seeing what good will the other wrestlers bore to Andy, Abu el- Kasim resigned himself to the will of Allah. A sheep was roasted in the forecourt and a cauldron of millet was set boiling, and when all was ready Abu filled several dishes with this good food and carried it to the wrestlers with his own hand.
After the meal, when at sunset the muezzin called the faithful to prayer, the wrestlers washed themselves, performed their devotions, and recited three or four-some of them even ten-verses from the Koran, for Andy’s success. “We have every confidence in Allah,” they said, “but it must be easier, even for him, to help a man who helps himself.” And so they stayed until late at night to teach Andy all they could about
“hard” wresding. As I listened to them, and saw the tricks they demonstrated, the hair rose upon my head in horror.
Abu el-Kasim took me aside and said, “This is the will of Allah, and never will you get a better chance to learn your way about in Selim ben-Hafs’s kasbah. You may even be able to make useful acquaintances, and it’ll do no harm if I give you a few coins to knot into your girdle. If you should happen to drop one or two of them, don’t stoop to pick them up again; remember that miserly behavior is unbecoming in the mansions of the great.”
At about midnight, Abu drove out the wrestlers and we put Andy to sleep on the softest pillows in the house. He tossed and turned and sighed half the night, then with a curse he took his cloak, wrapped it round his head and curled himself up on the floor. Immediately his snores resounded through the house. Wc did not wake him for the morning prayer, and Abu prayed on his behalf. Later we took Andy to the baths and had him rubbed by a powerful masseur to drive the stiffness out of him. Next we shaved his head, oiled him with the slipperiest oil we had in the house, and strengthened his leather breeches at waist and knee, lest they be stripped off during the fight.
After the noon prayer all the wrestlers of the market assembled, and noisily carried Andy up the steep street to the kasbah, to spare his wounded leg. At first he resisted, but they forced him to lie in the litter which they took turns to carry on their shoulders. And so he resigned himself, and lay with one hand supporting his chin and the other waving greetings to the faithful, who showered him with blessings and urged him to tear the ears from Selim ben-Hafs’s master wrestler and not to spare even his more intimate parts.
The uproarious crowd followed us to the place of punishment outside the great gateway of the kasbah, but when they saw the guards parading in line and the remnants of executed persons impaled on the iron hooks, a sudden silence fell upon them, and many remembered important business awaiting them at home. Nevertheless the sons of many rich merchants, as well as money changers, backers, and other followers of the sport followed us through the gates. Under the archway we were all thoroughly searched by the guards, who made us remove our cloaks and then felt along all seams and hems; much cunning would have been necessary to smuggle in even the smallest knife.
On either side of the forecourt were the barracks and kitchens of the guard. A gateway in the inner wall led to a second courtyard, where our clothes were searched again. Before us rose a wall in which a fine wrought-iron gate allowed us a glimpse of a fountain and a number of evergreen trees. In our own court also there was a pool, and under a roof supported by most lovely columns stood the throne. The guard gathered about this and showed the spectators to their places.
The ring was not large, but was strewn with soft sand in which one sank to the ankles. Andy was amazed at this, having seen nothing like it before; here, he said, one could fall on one’s head without breaking one’s neck. But on the other hand it prevented quick moves and evasions. Brute strength counted for more than skill here; one could not even dash the adversary’s head against a stone, but had to vanquish him with one’s bare hands.
A large number of chamberlains, eunuchs, mamelukes, Negroes, and boys with painted faces gathered in the courtyard and took up their positions in front of those who had come in from the city. At the latticed window above the Sultan’s throne appeared a group of veiled women, who ordered the concealing slatted blinds to be removed, that they might have a better view and be themselves more visible to the spectators.
At last the gate in the third wall was opened, and Selim ben-Hafs, attended by the most distinguished members of his suite, staggered down the steps. His eyes were almost closed up by the quantities of opium he consumed, and his oiled face showed him to be in an evil humor.
The savage-looking wrestlers stepped at once into the arena, and dashed at one another till the sand flew; yet they were careful not to hurt one another, and their performance was largely make-believe. Selim ben-Hafs soon wearied of them and in a shrill, furious voice degraded them to hewers of wood, which seemed rather to please than to dismay these peaceable men.
Meanwhile I had been edging forward among the spectators, looking here and there as if in search of a better vantage point. I thus contrived to move about the courtyard and peep behind curtains, and no one stopped me, even when I entered the empty palace. I crept in and out of the cellars and even looked into the kitchens, where I was surprised by a cook who asked me in amazement what I wanted. I said, “I’m the brother of Antar, the famous wrestler, and a slave like yourself. Being very anxious on my brother’s account I find myself in need of the privy.”
The cook kindly showed me to the servants’ privy, which had brick supports for the feet and troughs which could be sluiced with water. Having relieved myself I conversed politely with the cook, and he invoked many blessings upon me, so that I gave him two square silver coins. He was delighted and showed me the great kitchen; he told me how many different dishes were prepared there daily for the Sultan, and how they were carried in and tasted three or four times before being set before him.
I asked him about the women of the harem, of whom Giulia had had so much to say after meeting them at the public bathhouse. The cook smiled slyly and replied, “Our ruler despises and neglects his wives, and therefore allows them a quite unseemly freedom. He delights more in boys. If you should happen to have another couple of silver coins on you I could show you a little secret which might amuse you, since you seem an inquisitive man.”
As I fumbled with my girdle I let fall a gold coin as if by accident, but did not stoop to pick it up. The cook was overjoyed, and said, “I see that you’ve had a good upbringing, slave though you are; and you’re a good Moslem too, for in the eyes of Allah avarice is the most detestable of sins.”
He picked up the coin, and having looked about him carefully, he led me up a narrow stair and along a passage that ended at an iron door.
“I’ve been told,” he said, “that this door is often used by those who for one reason or another do not wish to be seen at the golden gateway to the Court of Bliss. The door opens silently. If anyone comes out this way, all slaves and servants turn their backs. If anyone enters it, he blinds the eyes of the curious with a shower of gold and silver.”
At this point we heard a vigorous clanging of bells from the courtyard. The cook was eager to see the greatest match of the day, and I followed him into the open air. But, as in Sinan’s house, I had had the impression, throughout my rambles in this palace, of being watched. I felt that invisible eyes had followed my every step. Therefore I rejoined Abu el-Kasim and stayed beside him to watch the wrestling, as if I had had indeed no other object in my wanderings than to find the privy.
Andy and the Sultan’s black master wrestler had now stepped into the ring. Amid the ringing of bells they greeted Sultan Selim ben-Hafs, who responded merely with a gesture of impatience, as a sign that the fight might begin. At the same instant the black charged at Andy with lowered head, snatching up a handful of sand as he ran and throwing it in Andy’s face to blind him. But Andy turned aside in time and shut his eyes, their two powerful bodies collided, and each got a sturdy grasp of the other. The black man had a body like a hundred-year oak, and his limbs were as knotted as its branches; it was a magnificent sight to see these two herculean men squeezing one another, each striving to break the other’s hold.
In honest wrestling Andy was clearly the better man, and when his black adversary saw that he lacked the strength to overcome him fairly, he sank his teeth into Andy’s shoulder. He had aimed at his car, but Andy was too quick for him, and now panted wrathfully.
“A man must follow the customs of the country”-and in his turn Andy bit deep into the Negro’s shoulder, so that the fellow howled and Selim ben-Hafs burst out laughing.
Andy was already forcing the black to his knees, but the oily body slipped from his grasp and the next moment the Negro drove his head violently against Andy’s chest, which resounded like a drum. Undeterred, Andy stoo
ped like lightning and seized the fellow’s ankles, threw him down and began whirling him round at such speed that the onlookers cried out aghast, and Selim ben-Hafs recoiled and clutched his head with both hands. But Andy did no more than hurl his opponent headlong onto the sand. Unhurt, the man leaped to his feet and charged again.
The struggle continued, with Andy holding his own, and the backers, forgetful of the Sultan’s presence, shouted and raised their bids. But Selim ben-Hafs scowled and showered insults upon his champion. From now on the rabble knew that this man’s life was at stake. Once more he gained firm hold of Andy, twisted and turned and tried with all his might to get his thumb into his eyes or kick him in the groin. He would not give in though Andy threw him several times so that by rights he should have confessed himself beaten. But each time he rose, and with foaming lips and bloodshot eyes dashed in mad fury at Andy, to kill him at the first opportunity. At last he got a thumb into Andy’s eye, and it was Andy’s turn to yell with pain. But at that moment came a snap as the champion’s arm was broken, and in a flash Andy was pressing the man’s face into the sand.
He thought the sport was at an end, but Selim ben-Hafs had wearied of his own wrestler, who had shamed him before all the people, and he signed to Andy to continue. Andy rose bewildered, not understanding what he meant, and at once the Negro, careless of his agony, threw his sound arm round Andy’s legs and brought him to the ground; then knelt upon his tenderest parts and tried to get his teeth into his throat. Nothing was left for Andy to do but lock the fellow’s arms and break his neck. Selim ben-Hafs burst into noisy laughter and applause.