by Jurji Zaydan
silence, Rukn al-Din,” he remarked. “I would have your opinion.”
“If this tyrant truly intends to destroy the Abbasid line, he shall cause a
breach in the Empire of Islam that shall be most diffi
cult to repair. But why, then,
did you tell the Caliph that Hulagu intends to spare him?” he added.
“Th
is was Hulagu’s pledge to me,” Mu’ayyid al-Din moodily replied. “I do not
trust him, however, for his eyes spoke otherwise. He has given me his ensigns and has urged me to hang them from the doors of homes that I would protect, and
particularly those of the Shi‘ite quarters of the city. His men will respect them as tokens of amnesty. Does this not prove his true intentions?” he demanded, as
if to himself. “In any case, we must prepare for the worst.” He walked to the far end of the room and returned with a number of yellow banners on each of which
a red dagger had been painted. He gave one to Rukn al-Din. “Take this. You may
have need of it.” He then gave the rest to Sahban. “Hang these at the entrance of our people’s quarters in Karkh and Qadhimiyya. Be discreet, so that none shall
notice what you do.”
Rukn al-Din folded the banner that Mu’ayyid al-Din had given him and
reluctantly tucked it underneath his cloak. Th
e thought of using it was repugnant
to him, for he was a valiant and battle-hardened warrior whose doughty sword
spoke for him and his men. But he was also a pragmatist and knew the impor-
tance of giving every situation its due. He took his leave soon thereaft er, lost in a welter of turbulent thoughts. ‘Abid brought him his horse, and he mounted with
no particular destination in mind. Th
en it occurred to him that he would do well
to seek out Sallafa for one last and decisive interview. On the way to her residence, he carefully reconsidered his own ambitions in light of Mu’ayyid al-Din’s awful
revelation of Hulagu’s true intentions. Such is the nature of all men and women
in all times and places. Th
ose fi ne words that describe the virtues and that fl ow
so easily from the pens of poets—generosity, kindness, unity, courage, charity,
and so forth—are most oft en nothing but so many diff erent terms that revolve
around a single sense: that of self-interest. Collective action, though it be ever so virtuous, can never succeed unless its ends benefi t the individual members of the enterprising group.
Rukn al-Din pondered the deepest ambitions of his heart, all of which
revolved around the Egyptian Sultanate, and he saw a clear connection between
t h e t ru t h |
this and the passing away of the ‘Abbasid state. He consequently turned his
thoughts to the advantage he might draw from the present circumstances, and
the unlikely idea that had dawned upon him the day before returned to haunt
him. Why should he not aspire to make Egypt the capital of the Abbasid Caliph-
ate? A feeling of tranquil confi dence descended upon him as the idea grew and
took root in his mind. His thoughts quickly turned to the Imam Ahmad, and he
resolved to seek him out and rescue him, if possible, from the coming slaughter.
If Hulagu truly intended to murder every last member of the House of ‘Abbas, he, Rukn al-Din, would shelter and maintain the last remaining scion. Once Sultan of Egypt, he would declare the Imam the new Caliph of the Abbasid Empire at Cairo.
His heart leapt with joy as he contemplated this happy conclusion to his plans.
He proceeded on the road to the Kalwadhi Gate lost in thought. Only the
great bustle and commotion that reigned at the Gate succeeded in awaking him
to his surroundings, for it was here that the pavilion in which the Caliph was to meet Hulagu was being erected. Rukn al-Din recalled that the Imam Ahmad’s
place of imprisonment was nearby. He called ‘Abid to his side. “Th
ey say that the
Imam Ahmad, the Caliph’s uncle, is imprisoned in a palace near here. Do you
know where it is?”
“I believe it to be this one, my Lord,” and he pointed to a palace behind the
one that Sallafa occupied.
“Do you have any acquaintance amongst his servants or guards?”
“No, my Lord, for he was brought here not long ago. But if you wish it, I can
easily infi ltrate the household. Do you wish to pay him a visit now?”
“First I would see Sallafa once more. I shall not tarry long in this country,
and I must do my utmost to discover Shwaykar’s true fate. Do you wish to return
with me to Egypt, faithful ‘Abid?”
“To accompany you thence would be the greatest honor, my Lord,” ‘Abid
gratefully hastened to reply. “But what of Shwaykar? Can she be truly dead? And
if she be yet alive, you shall surely not leave without her?”
Rukn al-Din slowed the pace of his horse and smiled wanly. “You are indeed
a true and loyal fellow, ‘Abid,” he replied. “Fear not. We shall get to the bottom of this matter, and then my hand shall be guided by the dictates of courage and
constancy.”
Rukn al-Din’s horse sauntered slowly on the riverbank while ‘Abid kept
abreast of him. Th
e horse reached a fragrant clump of bushes and stopped to
| t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t nibble at the tender shoots. Rukn al-Din had fallen silent and ‘Abid now spoke.
“My Lord, my counsel must surely be beneath your notice, but I beg leave to
speak freely, nonetheless. I have heard of this Sallafa that she is the most evil of women, and the most cunning, for even the Caliph cannot deny her any favor.
You shall be alone in her palace, and she might easily betray you, or summon a
band of villains to overpower you.”
Rukn al-Din was touched by this solicitous consideration, yet another proof
of the eunuch’s devotion. “Do not be afraid, good ‘Abid. You shall wait and watch in the palace gardens. If you notice the least unusual circumstance, sound the
alarm by calling out to one of the passing boatmen who ply their trade on this
river. As soon as I hear this call, I shall be forewarned. Above all, do not leave our mounts unattended, and make sure that they are saddled and ready for instant
fl ight.”
‘Abid bowed in obedience, and they entered the garden. Th
e guard hastened
to inform Sallafa of Rukn al-Din’s arrival, and aft er having changed into her most sumptuous gown, she descended to meet him and led him into the reception hall,
with many smiles and words of welcome. “I hope that you have succeeded in your
suit, my Lord,” she said as she motioned for him to be seated.
“And what suit may that be, my Lady?” Rukn al-Din replied.
“Why, did you not go this very morning to the Commander of the Faithful in
the company of the Majordomo to receive the command of the Imperial Army?
Has the compact been sealed?”
“Nothing of the sort transpired. It seems that you have not heard of the treaty
between Hulagu and the Caliph.”
“Indeed?” Sallafa replied uneasily. “And what are its terms?”
“Th
e Caliph sent his Minister Mu’ayyid al-Din to Hulagu to negotiate a
truce. He returned from that mission during my audience with the Caliph and
informed him that nothing less would pacify Hulagu than that the Caliph him-
self go out to meet him at Kalwadhi Gate. If you look from this window, you will see the carpenters erecting the pavilion in w
hich the appointed meeting shall
take place. Th
e war is now over and the Caliph has no further need of a Dawa-
dar—at least for the present.”
Sallafa rushed to the window and looking out, saw that all was as he had said.
She wrung her hands and slapped her cheeks in despair. “Woe unto him! Has
he fallen so low? Th
e Commander of the Faithful goes forth from his Imperial
t h e t ru t h |
Palace to pacify the wrath of his most bitter enemy? Farewell then to the Caliphate and its subjects!”
Her eyes shone as her mind worked quickly to calculate the consequences of
this unprecedented development, while Rukn al-Din waited for her to continue.
Finally she spoke. “Th
ere is no longer any reason for us to remain in this country.
We must depart instantly. All my jewels and personal possessions are yours to
dispose of. Let us not waste a single moment!”
“Where would you go, my Lady?” Rukn al-Din replied.
“To Egypt.”
“Alone?”
“We shall take whom you will of servants and retainers.”
He stared at her intently for a moment. “And what of Shwaykar?” he
demanded.
“Have I not told you, Rukn al-Din, of Shwaykar’s misfortune?” she impa-
tiently replied.
“My heart refuses to believe you in this, Sallafa. I came from Egypt to Bagh-
dad to seek Shwaykar and I shall not return without her!”
She tossed her head in irritation, but forced a smile to her lips. “What would
you have me do, my Lord? I cannot bring her back from the riverbed where she
has surely by now become food for the fi sh!”
“Nay,” he answered coldly. “She is not dead. I am certain that she is alive and
hidden in some place. Look for her, perhaps you shall fi nd her. I shall not go to Egypt without her,” he repeated.
Sallafa’s exasperation grew at these strange words. “What mean you by this?”
she demanded. “Surely you jest, sir. Shwaykar drowned in the Tigris, I tell you.
If you do not believe me, come, and I shall show you the proof of what I say.”
She took his hand and led him through a corridor and to a chamber that gave
out onto the river. She proceeded to a cabinet, unlocked it and withdrew a purse from which she took out a clump of long hair. She presented this to him and he
immediately recognized it as belonging to Shwaykar.
“Is this not the hair of Shwaykar, the poor wretch who died in the fl ower of
youth?” Sallafa demanded.
“Indeed, it is! But how did it come into your possession?”
“Th
e boatmen whom I charged with carrying Shwaykar hither from the Pal-
ace of the Crown brought it to me. Th
ey informed me that the boat in which they
| t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t were traveling overturned in this place,” and she pointed to a spot on the river just below the window by which they stood. “Th
e men tried to save her by pluck-
ing at her clothing and her hair, but she drowned and naught but these locks were left in their grasping hands.”
Rukn a-Din’s breast rose and fell as he struggled to contain the anger that
boiled within him. He lowered his eyes as he considered his next step, for he was sure that Sallafa had actively sought Shwaykar’s death. She placed her hand on
his shoulder and smiled coquettishly. “You believe me now, I suppose. Oh, Rukn
al-Din! If you only knew of the great love I bear you. It is high time that you take note of it and that you return to your senses. You must understand that I will stop at nothing to please you. You are already aware of the lengths to which I went to make you the Caliph’s Dawadar and the greatest commander in all the lands of
Islam. Do not be angry that this has not come to pass, for I have prepared Egypt’s throne for you and have cleared the path to it. Nothing remains for you to do but to return to Cairo and seize the scepter.”
Tree of Pearls and ‘Izz al-Din
the words “egypt’s throne” set his heart pounding anew and cooled his
wrath. He wished her with all his soul to prove the truth of her words. He therefore remained silent as she gazed curiously at him and fi nally, taking his hand, she led him to a small terrace overlooking the Tigris. She nodded for him to
be seated and seated herself beside him. Th
e river’s clear waters rippled delight-
fully before them but Rukn al-Din saw nothing of this natural beauty, for he was greatly wrought up. Every muscle in his body was tensed to spring instantly and
at the slightest provocation.
“I suppose you would like to know the details of my claim, and of all that I
have accomplished to ready Egypt’s throne for the reception of Rukn al-Din,” she began. “Oh, if you but felt the raging force of my love, cruel man! But you shall, once you hear of the great deeds I have eff ected for love of you.”
She shift ed in her seat and toyed with one of the long braids that lay on her
shoulder as she gazed out at the river. “When you left Cairo, Al-Ashraf sat upon the throne with ‘Izz al-Din Aybak as his Regent.”
“So it was,” Rukn al-Din solemnly confi rmed.
Sallafa laughed lightly. “Th
ey are both departed, and Tree of Pearls with
them.”
“Departed? Whence?” he demanded, greatly puzzled by this enigmatic
statement.
“To the underworld!” she cried.
Rukn al-Din started. “Surely you lie! How can such a thing have come to
pass?”
“God forgive you for accusing me thus, Prince. Sallafa does not lie—unless
it be to serve her one and only master. Verily, in this cause I have committed
acts much worse than falsehood. I have betrayed and I have murdered for Rukn
| t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t al-Din, and yet he still begrudges me a warm word or look.” Her eyes brimmed
with real tears and a sob escaped her lips as she spoke these words. Rukn al-Din resolutely ignored the small pang of sympathy that her tears evoked and steeled
himself to hear the rest.
“You left ‘Izz al-Din content in his role of Regent to the child-king and Tree of Pearls resigned to her lot. If matters had remained so, it would have been impossible for Rukn al-Din to seize power. And even should he have made such a move,
the most he could have hoped for would have been the Regency, for the House of
Ayyub monopolizes the throne. I intend to raise Rukn al-Din to the Sultanate,
just as I promised him. Shall I tell you what I have done?”
He leaned forward eagerly to hear the rest of her speech, and she continued.
“I believe you are aware of the place I held in ‘Izz al-Din’s heart and my infl uence over his mind, for I was the cause of his gaining the Regency aft er Tree of Pearls was deposed. I caused her to be deposed and I caused ‘Izz al-Din to be invested.
I caused the Princes to choose an Ayyubid Sultan. I did all this to prepare your own way to the throne, cruel one. I recounted all this to you when we spoke in
Cairo, but you paid me no heed. I came close to despairing of you, to hating you even, and I resolved to avenge myself on your cold obstinacy, but my heart would not obey. I remained true to my love and continued to seek your interests by any means. First, I induced ‘Izz al-Din to destroy the boy-king, al-Ashraf. He threw the child into the deepest and darkest of dungeons where he shall soon expire, if he be not already dead. ‘Izz al-Din then seized the throne and none dared to challenge him. Egypt is now free of
the Ayyubid yoke, Rukn al-Din!
“Once this had been accomplished,” she continued, “I proceeded to plot ‘Izz
al-Din’s removal to make way for my own beloved. Th
is was no easy task, thanks
to the number and strength of his men. I made Tree of Pearls herself, his for-
mer paramour, my instrument in this. I caused her to be informed by a few of
her slave-girls that ‘Izz al-Din was to be married to the daughter of the Ruler of Mosul, Badr al-Din Lu’lu’. I prevented ‘Izz al-Din from seeing Tree of Pearls for some months, and this led her to believe in the truth of the rumor. You are well acquainted with that woman’s crude and ruthless heart. As she brooded over
this second betrayal, her fury grew and multiplied till she prevailed upon some
attendants to strangle the usurper in his bath. It was later put about that he had fainted in the bath and died of an epileptic fi t.”
“‘Izz al-Din is dead?” cried Rukn al-Din.
t r e e of pe a r l s a n d ‘i z z a l-di n |
“Dead, never to return,” she replied. “As is Tree of Pearls.”
“How can this be?” Rukn al-Din was now thoroughly astonished.
“When ‘Izz al-Din died, his son Nur al-Din Ali was elected to the throne. I
had a hand in the upbringing of this youth, and he hearkens to my counsel. Once
he was crowned Sultan, I revealed to him that Tree of Pearls had plotted against his father, and I encouraged him to seek revenge. He charged the women of his
house with this mission, and they beat her to death with their clogs and threw
her corpse into the Citadel’s moat. Th
e dogs ate half of her lifeless body and the
remains were buried in the Cemetery of our Lady Nafi sa.”
Rukn al-Din stared, aghast, at the woman before him. “You were the cause
of all this?”
“I was,” Sallafa proudly replied, “and I executed each link in the chain of my
design for your own sake. Now, if you go to Egypt, you shall fi nd none to oppose you. I hold Nur al-Din in the palm of my hand. If you command it, I shall have
him murdered as well, and make you Sultan of all Egypt.”
Th
is abominable conduct in a woman horrifi ed Rukn al-Din, and yet the