Omar Khayyam - a life by Harold Lamb

Author:Harold Lamb
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Omar Khayyam
Publisher: Doubleday & Co. Inc 1934
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The garden of Kasr Kucbik, in the foothills two days ride east of Nisapur.

Although Ayesha was surprised, naturally, when the King's star gazer did not yield at once to her charm and solace himself by sleeping with her, she understood that he might want to wait a month. That was customary. Often in the desert raids, warriors would enjoy the captive women before the heat of battle had cooled in their veins; otherwise they would wait for the month ordained by custom and religious law. When Ayesha was sent away under guard to the summer palace of her new owner, she did not feel slighted. She wasted no time, however, in satisfying her curiosity about Omar.

Her first discovery amazed her, almost beyond belief. The palace was, as its name implied, a little one—a dwelling lovely with blue tiles, standing at the back of a hill garden overlooking the gray plain. Ayesha was given a chamber opening into a roof terrace, and in an hour she had satisfied herself that no other woman of her class resided there.

"Nay, the master hath no wives," old Zuleika admitted. " 'Tis said that once he married one who died of the plague before her homecoming."

Being mistress of the kitchen, old Zuleika had the gossip of the place at her tongue's end.

"Sometimes," she added, "he brings hither dancing girls for a little while, but they weary him and he sends them away with a gift."

Inwardly Ayesha resolved that he would not send her away so speedily, with or without a gift. True, he had bought her and he was responsible for her, but Ayesha had no illusions about the fate of young slave girls who did not please their masters. Moreover, she found Kasr Kuchik delightful.

The garden had a stream coming out of a grotto and winding between cool cypresses down to the pool where the rugs were spread. White roses climbed everywhere, even against the high walls of dried mud. In one corner stood a fairy-like kiosk. Here Ayesha was privileged to lie on heaped-up cushions and nibble at sugar paste, while she watched the spray of a fountain and stained her nails with henna. Ayesha thought life would be very pleasant in Kasr Kuchik.

"This place," Zuleika informed her proudly, "is only one of many. Our lord hath a palace in Nisapur and another in Merv, by the great palace of the Sultan. He hath besides a house of science which is called the House of the Stars. Wise men with long beards work there making books at his command."

"Wah! Making books?"

"Yes, books are as common as dates with our master. One he made for the Sultan was an algebra,"

"A—what?"

"An algebra. It hath to do with magical numbers. Our master in his wisdom knoweth all that has ever been, and all that will be—God willing. That is why the Sultan will do nothing without his advice, so he is as great-in-power as the aged Arranger of the World. Ay, at the royal banquets he

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