Tree of Pearls, Queen of Egypt

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by Jurji Zaydan

Mu’ayyid al-Din divined, and approved, the deepest thoughts of this gift ed

  and ambitious young man. He now regretted having acted so precipitously in

  summoning the Tatar hordes and thereby imperiling the mighty Abassid Caliph-

  ate. For what if Hulagu were not content to depose Al-Musta‘sim and allow the

  Imam Ahmad to be invested in his place? He shuddered at the thought. “We shall

  gratefully consider your off er of aid, good Prince, and we pray that our eff orts shall bear fruit,” he said aloud.

  Rukn al-Din now deemed it proper to return to the subject of Shwaykar.

  He turned to Sahban. “And what of Shwaykar? How shall I recover her? I have

  neglected country and duty and travelled to these distant lands for her sake. Shall I then return without her? Impossible!”

  “My Lord, the eunuch who brought you Shwaykar’s letter, ‘Abid, is lodged

  under my roof at present. It was he who aided her fl ight from Prince Abu Bakr’s palace and he is, moreover, attached to the harem of the Imperial Palace. Two days ago he came to inform me that Shwaykar was suddenly taken ill and removed

  from the Imperial Harem to an unknown location. If she had escaped, she would

  have no doubt immediately come to us. ‘Abid is even now trying to discover news

  of her. He has most likely returned to our house in Qadhimiyya. Do you wish to

  go and speak to him in person?”

  “Let us go at once,” he replied. “I will not rest until I have found her. Only

  then will I be at liberty to turn my attention to the urgent political business that presently claims our attention. Away with us, Sahban.” He rose and begged leave

  to withdraw, which was cordially granted by Mu’ayyid al-Din.

  The Tatars

  baghdad was much changed since Rukn al-Din had last seen it in the days

  of his youth. Th

  e neighborhood of Qadhimiyya lay on the other side of the Tigris

  from the Minister’s palace. With Sahban as his guide he crossed the bridge to the western portion of Baghdad, where the city that Al-Mansur had built fi ve and

  a half centuries earlier had lain. Nothing now remained of those magnifi cent

  structures but a few ruins. A noisy market and rows of dilapidated buildings

  had sprung up in place of the glorious Imperial complex of old. Rukn al-Din was

  suddenly distracted from these observations by the sight of a group of terrifi ed people running towards the bridge that he and his companion had just crossed.

  Recognizing one amongst them, Sahban called out to him. Th

  e man detached

  himself from the crowd and hurried towards them. His legs were covered in thick

  mud up to the knees, as though he had just been wading in the turbid river.

  “Why all this hurry, man?” Sahban inquired.

  “It’s the Tatars, master Sahban—the Tatars are upon us!”

  Sahban caught his breath at this revelation. “Have they even now arrived?”

  he demanded. “Where are they camped?”

  “Here,” the man replied, his voice shaking. “Here, at the very gates of

  Baghdad!”

  “And the Imperial Army?” Sahban demanded. “Th

  ey went forth to do battle

  at Dujayl with the Dawadar at their head . . .”

  “Th

  ese Tatars are of the evil race of djinn, ” the man babbled on. “None can stand in their way. I was near Dujayl the very day they descended upon it. No

  sooner had word of their coming spread than the people, terrifi ed, took fl ight towards the city with their women and children, in a state to be much pitied.

  Grown men threw themselves into the river for fear of the invader. Th

  e boatmen

  will only take those who can pay them handsomely across the river to safety.

  

  t h e tata r s | 

  Th

  ey are greedy for coin and gold. One woman even paid her fare with a richly

  embroidered robe. We were told that the Caliph’s army had come to vanquish

  these devils, but alas, they were utterly routed by the Tatars, who gave chase to those who retreated and killed or captured thousands. During the night, the wily devils dug a canal in which those who fl ed were drowned in a sea of mud. Only

  those who threw themselves headlong into the river were saved, I amongst them.”

  He paused to gain his breath and pointed to the thick mud that covered his legs.

  Anger mounted steadily in Rukn al-Din’s breast as he listened to this ignoble

  account of the Imperial Army’s rout.

  “And the Dawadar? What has become of him?” Sahban demanded.

  “He has retreated to Baghdad with what’s left of the army, defeated and bro-

  ken, like our very own hearts, master. May God have mercy upon us!”

  Sahban briefl y pondered the narrative he had just heard. “What do they look

  like, these Tatars?” he continued.

  “Devils, one and all! Th

  ey gobble up our men like so many sheep. I have

  never seen such creatures in all my life. Hurry and quit this road, master, for

  they are surely close to Baghdad by now and perhaps they have already entered

  the city. I have heard that a company of them is camped at the Azudi Hospital

  and another has arrived at the Mabqala near al-Rusafa. Only the Tigris stands between them and the royal palaces now. Hurry, master, fl ee the Tatar arrows

  that fall like rain. Nay, never have I seen the like in all my life!” He said this and hurried off as though pursued by all the legions of hell.

  Sahban turned to Rukn al-Din, whose eyes had by now grown red with rage.

  A dark and furious frown creased his brow. “What ails my Lord Prince?” he

  lightly inquired, barely able to suppress the victorious smile that hovered over his lips.

  “What ails me, you ask? Woe to you, Sahban! Have you no love for your native

  city, man? Is this the comportment of the Imperial Armies? Do the troops fl ee the savage face of the Tatar and hide under their beds? Were I but mounted with my

  doughty men at my back I would show these cowards how a battle is joined!”

  Sahban laughed and, taking Rukn al-Din by the shoulder, turned into a nar-

  row alley. “Your valiant sentiments are useless, my Lord. Th

  is dynasty’s days are

  numbered. Th

  eir empire is spent, their tyranny at last come to an end. If God

  had willed their victory, He would have long ago opened their eyes and led them

  down the straight path. But their conduct has been like that of a blind man who

   | t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t stumbles about and knows not what he does. Let us leave them to their fate. Only God can deliver them, if He pleases.”

  A peculiar-looking arrow of a kind that Sahban had never before seen sud-

  denly fell to the ground before them. He picked it up and upon closer examination discovered it to be inscribed with writing in Arabic letters. Th

  is is what it said:

  Th

  e ‘Alawi Chiefs and all those who do not resist us shall rest secure in their lives, their women-folk, and their property.

  Sahban handed the arrow to Rukn al-Din, who read it in his turn. “It seems

  that the Shi‘a have allied themselves with the Tatar invaders,” he muttered.

  Sahban only shrugged in response to this complaint. “Th

  e Shi‘a have been

  ill-used, my Lord. Is not the persecution they have already suff ered for generations enough? If the Tatar are to be victorious and the ‘Alawis serve them justly, neither they nor we should be blamed.”

  Rukn al-Din was forced to acknowledge the reason in Sahban’s w
ords and

  the futility of railing against the dictates of fate. He once again reminded himself that he would do better to concentrate his energy and wits on fi nding Shwaykar

  and returning her safely to Cairo. Th

  ey wove their way through a spiderweb of

  narrow, abandoned alleys in order to avoid the crowds of fl eeing refugees that

  were now everywhere to be seen. Finally they reached the Azudi Hospital and

  in the near distance spied the banks of the Tigris and its immediate hinterland

  spread out below them and covered, like a great carpet, with the Tatar encamp-

  ment: horses, tents, banners, and prisoners. Sahban stopped to contemplate the

  impressive sight. “Do you see the Tatar, the strength of his body and the rough-

  ness of his hands? See how he rolls up the cuff s of his trousers and how his eyes seem about to pop out of his head? Th

  ese men have spent days and nights march-

  ing, on their feet, sleeping only rarely and taking nothing but mare’s milk for

  nourishment—just like the fi rst Muslim Bedouins, who needed nothing in the

  world but their camels for transportation, food, shade, and company. So it is with the Tatar and his horse. Th

  ey say that a Tatar soldier can even outrun his mount!

  As for the soldiers who defend Baghdad, they have grown used to vain com-

  fort and emasculating luxury, like the Byzantines before them. Can we struggle

  against fate, my Lord? Th

  e end is decreed for one and all and God alone does as

  He wills. Let us continue on to Qadhimiyya to fi nd the good ‘Abid and seek news of Shwaykar.”

  t h e tata r s | 

  Rukn al-Din returned no reply to this discourse, for the sight before him

  had rendered him speechless. Mighty indeed was the Tatar, he refl ected. Only a

  miracle could now save the Mother of Cities from ruin.

  Th

  ey left the Azudi Hospital behind them and descended towards Qadhi-

  miyya. Rukn al-Din could not help but remark the diff erence in mien between

  the people of this quarter and the residents of the other towns they had passed

  through. Here, in Qadhimiyya, a measure of tranquility reigned and the inhabit-

  ants went about their business calmly, nay, almost cheerfully, as though the coming Tatar victory were their own, or as though the Tatars were a Shi‘ite dynasty that had come to liberate them. Men love anyone who gives them succor, no matter how distant the ties that bind them, and they hate those who strip them of

  their rights, though it be their own brothers. A few men approached Sahban to

  greet and congratulate him heartily on the imminent collapse of the House of

  ‘Abbas. Sahban graciously returned their greetings, but he repressed all outward signs of joy in the fearsome presence of Rukn al-Din.

  ‘Abid

  finally, they arrived at sahban’s house. Sahban welcomed his guest

  and bade him be seated in the reception room while he went to inquire aft er

  ‘Abid. A few moments later, he reappeared with the gentle eunuch. As soon as

  he saw Rukn al-Din, tears sprang to his eyes and he grasped the Prince’s hand to kiss it. Rukn al-Din was astonished at this peculiar behavior. “What news, good

  ‘Abid?” he inquired as he withdrew his hand and motioned to him to sit by his

  side. “Where is Shwaykar? What has become of her?”

  “My Lord, as I promised you in Cairo, I have exerted the utmost eff ort on

  my mistress Shwaykar’s behalf. Once I had found her, I did not part with her for a single second. Th

  is time, however, was diff erent. Th

  e soldiers seized her and I

  could do nothing about it.”

  Rukn al-Din was somewhat baffl

  ed by this confused account. “But where is

  she now?” he continued.

  “Th

  e last defi nite report that has reached me is that she is currently detained

  in the Palace of the Crown.”

  “Brother Sahban has informed me of this. He also told me that you went to

  seek more news of her but yesterday. What have you discovered?”

  ‘Abid stared at his feet morosely for a moment before replying. “Th

  e accounts

  of the Harem eunuchs with whom I spoke diff ered. Th

  ey all agreed that she had

  been taken gravely ill on the day of her arrival at the palace, that she was consequently unable to sing for the Caliph, and that she spent that night in the quarters of a royal concubine from Egypt by the name of Sallafa.”

  Rukn al-Din started violently. “Sallafa?” he cried. “Sallafa is here in

  Baghdad?”

  “Yes my Lord, they say that she was until lately the Custodian of the Righ-

  teous King’s Palaces in Egypt and that she has great infl uence at the Palace of the

  

  ‘a bi d | 

  Crown thanks to her friendship with the Palace Qahramana and the Majordomo.

  Even the Caliph himself is said to respect and esteem her.”

  Rukn al-Din now feared the worst. He well recalled the threats that the slave

  Sallafa had hurled at him on the occasion of their last meeting. Th

  is unexpected

  encounter with Shwaykar could only spell disaster. “And since then?” Rukn al-

  Din continued breathlessly.

  “I have had diff erent accounts of what happened aft er that night. Some say

  that Sallafa took my Lady to a palace at which she lodges near the Kalwadhi Gate.

  Others contradict this report and claim that she remains sequestered at the Pal-

  ace of the Crown.” ‘Abid hesitated for a moment and his expression grew dark.

  “Th

  ere are some who deny both claims.”

  Rukn al-Din urged him on. “What do they say? Speak!”

  “Th

  ey say that Shwaykar has simply disappeared, they know not where, nor

  how she was made to vanish.”

  “Sallafa has murdered her!” Rukn al-Din cried.

  “God forbid, my Lord! Th

  ey say that Sallafa is my Lady’s dearest friend, that

  she showed her uncommon favor and that she spared no pains to secure her com-

  fort and wellbeing when she was taken ill.” Rukn al-Din shook his head impa-

  tiently and turned to consult Sahban on this dangerous turn of events.

  Sahban was otherwise occupied, however. He had moved slightly apart dur-

  ing the fi rst part of this conversation to discuss the Tatar advance with some

  of his men, and upon rejoining the company had remained plunged in deep

  thought. He was unaware of Sallafa’s enmity towards Shwaykar, but he was well

  acquainted with the former’s boldness and malice, as the Reader knows. “Sallafa

  is a wicked woman,” he said to Rukn al-Din. “She cares not for the consequences

  of her evil actions. I know her well. If she has come to Baghdad, her presence at the Caliph’s palaces is certainly an evil omen. If once she resolves on a course of action, she dashes into it with all her being. Be not fooled by her kindness to Shwaykar or by her pretense of friendship, for if she perceives a benefi t to herself in doing the girl harm, she shall not hesitate.”

  Rukn al-Din agreed wholeheartedly with this assessment. Fear and fury

  made his chest rise and fall like that of an angry lion. He rose precipitately to take his leave, but Sahban held him back. “What do you intend to do, my Lord?”

  “Intend?” he replied distractedly. “I intend to look for that cursed woman. By

  God, if she has laid a fi nger upon Shwaykar I shall sever her head from her body!”

  �
�� | t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t

  “Calm yourself, my Lord,” Sahban replied. “You shall not so easily fi nd her

  now, for she is at the Caliph’s palaces and under his protection. But these very palaces shall soon open their doors to one and all. Th

  en we shall be free to deal

  with Sallafa as we wish, and with many others besides. By God’s grace we shall

  fi nd Shwaykar hale and hearty and all will be well,” he chuckled. “Come with

  me now. I would show you something to lighten the mind and sustain the soul.”

  Th

  ey quit the house and Sahban led his guest to a nearby mosque whose

  spiraling minaret commanded a breathtaking view of the entire city. He pointed

  to the eastern part of Baghdad, where the royal palaces stood. “Look at al-Rusafa, my Lord, from whence we have just come. Th

  ere lies the Imperial complex with

  its palaces, schools and gardens. Th

  e great wall that surrounds them to the east

  boasts a number of gates and towers, among them an immense tower at the

  southeastern corner, the ‘Ajami tower. If you look closely you will see a vast fi eld of tents and banners spread behind it. Th

  ese are the tents and banners of the great

  Khakan.”

  Rukn al-Din gasped in wonder. “Hulagu is even now in Baghdad?”

  “He came from the east at dead of night and besieges Baghdad from the

  direction of the ‘Ajami Tower. I have only just heard that his great General, Baiju, has entered Baghdad from the west. Th

  ere are two other divisions besides this

  and the one we have already seen: one at the Azudi Hospital and the other at the Mabqala, quite close to the Palace of the Crown. Do you still hope for an Abbasid victory?” he added maliciously.

  “Th

  e Imperial complex is well fortifi ed,” Rukn al-Din replied uncertainly.

  “Th

  e Tatars will not take it as easily as you think, my friend. Th

  e great wall of

  which you speak is stalwart, as are the soldiers that defend it.”

  Sahban merely shrugged. “We shall see. But now let us descend. I shall go

  to consult our wise Minister on the best course of action in these new circum-

  stances. Pray wait my return, my Lord. I shall not tarry.” Sahban left him in the care of ‘Abid and the rest of his servants, and departed on his mission.

 

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