Lalish in late November has something of a child’s Advent feel about it: an air of expectation and immanent holiness. All of the buildings are spotless. The paths are spotless. The stones are like leaves of vellum. The shrines are clean, and Lalish, the Yezidis’ reflection of heaven, is pure and peaceful.
Accompanied by Karla Lindars, Ashe arrived in Lalish early. They were to witness the final ceremonies of Rozeh and Sinàn’s week-long wedding. Here at last was an opportunity for Ashe to show his secretary why he was so entranced by the place and the people to whom it was sacred. For Karla, it was a chance to take a fresh look at the man she admired and who never failed to irritate her slightly. It was also an opportunity to acquire a new, oriental wardrobe. Karla looked dazzling in her drifting turquoise and sky-blue abbaya. Ashe was only concerned that with her golden-blond hair, let down for the occasion, she might appear to upstage the princess.
Princess Laila had been attending to Rozeh. Rozeh’s wedding rituals had begun at her new home in Bashiqa over a week before Ashe’s arrival. There, following a hot bath, Rozeh’s friends had adorned her hands with henna. Having donned a red veil, Rozeh had then fastened a belt about her virgin waist with a special, large buckle, brought to her by Princess Laila, her Sister of the Hereafter. Rozeh had then been set on a horse that carried her from Bashiqa to Lalish, to the groom’s temporary apartment above the Sanctuary Guesthouse. The apartment had been lent for the occasion by Sinàn’s relative, the Mir – or Prince – of the Yezidis who was away on urgent business in Germany. Himself pondering whether or not to leave the country, Sinàn had not yet found the right place to set up a household.
Rozeh had arrived on horseback at Lalish’s Sanctuary Guesthouse carrying some berat: earth from a holy shrine, rolled with the spittle of the Sheykh of the Adani clan into a ball. The Adani Sheykh, who presided over the nuptial agreement, had given her this prized token in exchange for gifts to himself and Rozeh’s Pir, or spiritual guide. Having helped Rozeh dismount, Laila had handed Rozeh a jar of sweetmeats, a role normally reserved for the bride’s future mother-in-law. Alas, Sinàn’s mother had not lived to see the happy day. Rozeh had then smashed the sweetmeats against the threshold of her ‘new home’. As Rozeh had entered the house, a sheep was slaughtered. Rozeh had then been led into the aromatic bridal chamber, veiled by an Adani Sheykh and by her Pir.
Later that night, Sinàn had been brought to the bridal chamber by his Brother of the Hereafter. The ‘Brother’ and two friends had guarded the door while the marriage was consummated. Afterwards, the friends had been invited in to share some food. Following the consummation, Rozeh had begun a seven-day period of silent seclusion in the bridal chamber.
Throughout the week that followed, Lalish had joyed in sporadic dancing, as relatives and friends toasted the couple and invited the blessings of God and His Angels upon them. Now on this, the seventh day of the seclusion, the bride would leave the room for a final, simple ceremony. To this ceremony, the English visitors had been invited.
Ashe joined Sinàn for a short walk among the mulberry bushes and oak trees on the slopes of Mount Erefat above the Sanctuary of Sheykh Adi.
‘You look splendid, Sinàn.’
‘Traditional clothes. I borrowed the silk jacket and trousers from the Mir. The jewellery comes from… many years ago. Strange how things turn out, Dr Ashe.’
‘Destiny, Sinàn, that’s all. Kismet.’
‘I was thinking… Had Laila succeeded in getting Rozeh on to your plane at Mosul all those months ago, my bride and I would never have met.’
‘Rozeh wanted to be a doctor. It was important to her.’
‘I will help.’
‘Don’t you want your wife at home, like those who wore your clothes before you?’
‘What Rozeh believes is right, is right for me. I want to thank you again for honouring your word and bringing the Baba Sheykh back to us.’
‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out.’
‘No! What happened was the unbreakable will of the sheykh. It is a sin against God to stop the true will of another.
‘Also, you should know, the sheykh was very ill. Baba was dying, even when we were in Germany. His heart. He gave too much of it to his people. Tell me, Toby Ashe, will you see his speech is published?’
‘I’ll do my best.’
‘You are a friend of the Yezidi people.’ Sinàn bowed to Ashe.
‘A great honour, Sinàn.’
Ashe gazed down to the conical qubbe that dominated the roof of the sanctuary below them. ‘I only wish I’d been born a Yezidi.’
Sinàn laughed. ‘Forgive me, but that is very foolish! I must go now and prepare myself. And, look, here is your beautiful secretary lady! And, Dr Ashe, remember – you are not married!’
Sinàn made his way back down the slopes, pausing to bow before Karla on his way down. Ashe called after him. ‘No, Sinàn, but she is!’
‘What were you shouting down the hill, Toby?’
‘Oh, nothing. Just good luck.’
‘What a charming young man the doctor is! I’m sure you could learn something from him.’
‘Listen to that, Karla! Listen! In the valley. The daff and shebab.’
‘The what?’
‘Tambour and flute. The qewwals are singing again. And they’re lighting the shrines. See, the feqirs use olive oil from the mountains. They slap the oil on the sides of walls. Quite magical.’
Karla and Ashe sat down on the ground, Ashe’s arm round Karla’s shoulders.
‘It’s perfect. Even overcast as it is.’
‘That’s how I like it, Karla. Far away from the world and enclosed like a jewel, lit only by its inner fires.’
‘Still a romantic, aren’t you? Even after all you’ve seen.’
He was quiet for a moment. ‘I wonder what Melissa would think of all this.’
‘Why don’t you ask her?’
Ashe gave Karla a hug, then got up and headed down into the flame-kissed valley. Karla shook her head in mock disgust, got up and patted her damp bottom, wondering if among the trees and the echoing music she might find herself a sheykh of her own.