The Walled Garden

THE WALLED GARDEN
by Stephen Brooke

I will not regret our love, nor my daring to climb the garden walls to taste of it.

She, my beloved, my Adina—from the time we were children playing tag in the shadows of marketplace awnings, we had known we were meant for each other. I would catch her in some secluded doorway and steal a kiss, promising someday to ask her father for her hand. As she grew into a rose of great beauty, I anticipated that day with all my soul.

Yet such a beauty will catch other eyes. So it was that Sultan Khalid’s vizier came one day to her father’s door and paid him a great price for his Adina—my Adina. I watched the curtained litter bear her away to Khalid’s palace. It bore her away to be a jeweled ornament of his harem, a flower that grew only in his walled garden.

That walled garden was death to any whole man who dared enter. Yet enter I must. Was I never to see my Adina again, never to hold her, never to consummate the love that had burned within us both? On a moonless night, when the wind blew hot from the desert sands, I scaled those high walls and entered Khalid’s forbidden garden, his garden of jasmine-scented delight.

Secreted behind the arbored roses, I awaited some sign of my lost love. Would Adina walk in this garden? Was she near me? Should I dare search for her?

Laughter drifted through my night. Two young, beautiful and most scandalously dressed—or undressed—women were walking along the green marble pathway near my hiding place. “She will come around,” said the one, laughing. “Give her time. And give me a kiss.”

The two embraced as lovers would, their hands exploring each others bodies. I had heard of such things but found it most astonishing. I also found my manhood responding in a most astonishing manner. Suddenly I heard a sharp intake of breath. It was my Adina, who had come upon the two entwined women.

“Come, join us,” invited one. “It is better than with a man anytime.”

The other smiled. “She has not yet been with a man, have you, little one?” Adina shook her head, hesitantly. She was clad nearly as scantily as they—at that moment I ached for her as I never had before. 

“She pines still for he who loved her. He is dead to you, girl, and you to him. Best it be that way. Let us find some private pillowed place,” she told her companion. “Leave the little one to her tears.” The two slipped away into the perfumed darkness.

Adina fell upon an alabaster bench, weeping to the silence of her misfortune. I whispered her name from my hiding place. “Adina!”

“Who calls?” Her long black tresses fell back from her face as she peered questioningly about the garden. Her full bosom rose and fell beneath the diaphanous blouse that only partially covered her beauty. “Is there someone there to help me? Has Allah sent the aid for which I have prayed?”

“No, my Adina, He has brought your Hadi to you,” I responded, stepping from my hidden bower.

“Hadi, my Hadi!” She flew into my arms. “The Sultan has not yet called for me. I—I am still pure for you, my Hadi.”

“You must come with me, my love,” I asserted, “and we shall flee together.”

She pulled back. “No, my Hadi, it can not be. How could I scale these walls? Where could we go? I must remain here. But,” she continued fiercely, “I will not allow Khalid to be the first to have me! Tonight, I give myself to my true love.

“My first love,” she whispered, “my only love.” Taking her hand, I led her to my hiding place behind the arbor.

Rose petals were our bed, that dark, still night. There I took her lips, full and red as the blossoms that overhung us; there I kissed each inch of her exquisite body before entering where no man had entered before. And there we slept the slumber of perfect peace, forgetful of our tomorrow.

Only to awaken with the splashing of the sun into our eyes. “You must be away, my love,” Adina urged, as I gathered her in a final kiss. Alas, it was too late. The eunuchs were searching the garden for her and discovered us there, holding to each other in our farewell embrace. 

Now, as I lay my neck upon the block, I look into Adina’s sightless eyes, gaze upon the tangled black locks surrounding her head where it lies upon the tessellated floor, and know we soon shall embrace once again in Paradise.

appeared in the collection Lands Far Away ©2021
appeared in Crimson Literary Magazine