Tree of Pearls, Queen of Egypt

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Tree of Pearls, Queen of Egypt Page 28

by Jurji Zaydan


  thought of so easily possessing the throne was near to tearing his heart from his breast. He hung his head and refl ected for a moment, and his eyes fell upon the dear locks of hair that Sallafa had carelessly cast aside. Th

  e image of Shwaykar

  now returned to his mind, and he recalled that it was Tree of Pearls who had fi rst received their vows. Th

  e wretched woman before him had confessed to having

  caused the death of many, and his heart told him that she had also engineered

  the murder of Shwaykar. Indeed, what should prevent her from murdering him

  if once she doubted his friendship or despaired of his love? He was at a loss as to how to proceed. Sallafa grew impatient with his silence, and spoke again. “See

  you not what crimes I have committed for your love, cruel Prince? And you still

  call me to account over a slave-girl whom you might easily replace for a hun-

  dred dinars? Put this coldness aside. Let us forget the past and quit this place for Egypt. Your fi nal happiness is my only desire. Take all I possess.”

  Rukn al-Din refl ected that if he submitted to her he would become Sultan

  and his most cherished ambitions would thereby be fulfi lled, but no sooner had

  the thought crossed his mind than he pushed it away in horror. Shwaykar’s image

  and all that she had suff ered through his own fault lingered before him. He suddenly rose, and Sallafa rose too, believing that she had fi nally convinced him to surrender to her love. Rukn al-Din reached out to take the clump of hair in his

   | t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t hand and he stared at it intently. “I suppose your pity for the owner of these locks still troubles your conscience,” she rallied him. “But what good can it now do

  you? Here is the hair of a woman who lives and speaks and wants nothing but

  your good will,” and she teasingly held out one of the luxurious black braids that fell over her shoulders.

  “Is she really dead then?” Rukn al-Din repeated morosely.

  “Good God, man!” she cried in frustration. “Have I not told you so time and

  again?”

  “You only repeated the account of the boatmen. Perhaps they lie.”

  “Nay, they lie not! And why on earth should they?”

  “Th

  ey have some motive . . .”

  She gazed at him furiously with a mixture of violent longing and keen exas-

  peration that gave her eyes a fi ery cast. “You have constrained me to prove the slave’s demise beyond the shadow of a doubt,” she fi nally declared. “She is dead. I am the one who planned her execution! Th

  is too I did for your sake, and for mine,

  for I will brook no rival for your aff ections. Like the others, the girl was sacrifi ced to your own interests.”

  Upon hearing this awful confession, Rukn al-Din could no longer control

  himself. With a quick glance he ascertained that the hall beyond the chamber

  that they occupied was empty of attendants, and looking out the window next to

  which he stood, he saw ‘Abid motioning for him with a rapid gesture of the hand

  to mount the attack. He swift ly withdrew his dagger and plunged it twice into

  her heart. Sallafa fell to the fl oor and expired instantly. He sheathed his weapon, and grasping the locks of Shwaykar’s hair in his hand, he hurried from the room.

  The Imam Ahmad’s Palace

  ‘abid hurriedly met him at the gates with their saddled mounts. “May your

  right hand ever be fi rm!” he exclaimed. “You have avenged my Lady! Mount, my

  Lord, and let us leave this place.” Rukn al-Din instantly did as he was bidden, and they made haste to quit the empty palace gardens.

  “Why did you signal to me to hasten Sallafa’s execution?” Rukn al-Din

  asked ‘Abid as soon as they had left the palace well behind them and slowed to

  a brisk trot.

  “My Lord, I discovered beyond the shadow of a doubt that she was the agent

  of my lady Shwaykar’s death. I then contrived to empty the palace of its servants and retainers so that you were free to act. But I feared that the wily woman would yet convince you of her innocence, and that you would continue to postpone her

  chastisement.”

  “God bless you, ‘Abid. Sallafa did murder Shwaykar. She confessed it to

  me with her own cursed lips. But tell me, how did you manage to make this

  discovery?”

  “I insinuated myself into a company of her servants and we conversed on

  sundry subjects. I boasted to them of the many wicked deeds that I had committed in the service of my master—murder, theft , and the like—and this, as I had hoped, excited the tedious vanity of one present, who proceeded to boast in turn of how Sallafa had charged him and another lackey with conveying Shwaykar hither from

  the Palace of the Crown, and how she secretly ordered him to make the journey at night and to seize the fi rst opportunity to throw her into the Tigris. Th

  e opportu-

  nity did not present itself, however, until they had almost arrived at their destination, for an unknown vessel trailed behind them for most of the way and observed their movements. At last the scoundrel resolved to take his chances: he cut off a few locks of my lady’s hair, threw her overboard and took the trophy to his mistress as

  

   | t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t proof of having executed his commission. I then asked him if he had seen the lady drown with his own eyes and he replied that as it was so dark, he had seen nothing, but that he doubted not that the lady had met a watery death.”

  Rukn al-Din’s conscience was greatly soothed by this vivid account of Sal-

  lafa’s perfi dy, and he told himself that she had indeed merited the sudden death that he had dealt her. A new hope had also now taken hold of him: that Shwaykar

  might yet have been saved by the grace of God. But he said not a word of this

  to ‘Abid, and only urged him to quicken his pace in the direction of the Imam

  Ahmad’s dwelling.

  Th

  e sun was beginning to set as they continued on their way, when suddenly

  they spied a great company of Hulagu’s troops galloping from the direction of the Ivory Tower to the Kalwadhi Gate and sending the terrifi ed populace scrambling

  for cover. ‘Abid led Rukn al-Din’s horse away from the commotion and towards

  the Imam Ahmad’s place of confi nement. Rukn al-Din’s thoughts were divided

  between Shwaykar on the one hand, and the terrible fate awaiting the Caliph and

  his family on the other. He wished to cast his eyes one last time over Baghdad in the soft light of dusk, and so he and ‘Abid climbed a hill overlooking the Kalwadhi Gate and its environs all the way to the Ivory Tower. Th

  ere he saw the Tatar

  hordes advancing towards the city, and a small company of them moving in the

  direction of Sallafa’s palace and scaling its walls. ‘Abid turned to Rukn al-Din.

  “Do you see, my Lord?” and he pointed to the palace.

  “It seems they are intent on pillage, and I fear they will fi nd none to oppose

  them. Only Sallafa, lying drenched in her own blood. Her servants shall surely

  share in the plunder and the killing. Th

  us is the end of all tyrants,” he mused.

  “Would that it were given to me to witness the events that shall befall Baghdad

  on the morrow. But enough of this. We have no time to lose. Let us go at once to Prince Ahmad,” and he turned the reins of his mount in that direction once more.

  Th

  e gates of the palace were heavily guarded. ‘Abid advanced and inquired

  whether the Imam was within. “He is,” replied one of the guards, “but he is cur-

  rently
occupied.”

  “In what business?”

  “He entertains a guest.”

  “Pray enter and seek permission for us to meet with him.” ‘Abid replied.

  “He will see no one at present. Th

  e Commander of the Faithful has greatly

  restricted his company.”

  t h e i m a m a h m a d’s pa l ace | 

  “We are strangers,” ‘Abid replied. “Night overtook us before we entered the

  city, and we now beg a place to lay our heads till the morrow.”

  “I must fi rst request permission.”

  “Pray thee do so then,” ‘Abid replied.

  “And what shall I say?”

  “Tell his Lordship that we are travelers from Egypt and that we would pass

  the night under his roof.”

  Th

  e guard withdrew into the palace while Rukn al-Din remained mounted

  and ‘Abid stood waiting at his side. Aft er a long interval, he returned with another man who stared intently at Rukn al-Din as he approached. “Prince Rukn al-Din!”

  he cried. “Enter, my Lord, and welcome.”

  Rukn al-Din was somewhat surprised to discover that the person who now

  stood before him was none other than Sahban. He dismounted and passed with

  him into an empty and dimly lit hall in which not a living soul stirred. Rukn

  al-Din felt foreboding from this deathly silence, and he waited for Sahban to

  address him. Sahban remained silent, however, and so Rukn al-Din began. “Have

  you been long in conference with his Excellency the Imam, Sahban?”

  “I arrived but an hour ago.”

  “Prince Ahmad is within?”

  “He is, my Lord Rukn al-Din. He is dressing, and will go out shortly with the

  Caliph and his family to meet Hulagu at the Imperial pavilion.”

  “And who has counseled him to do so?”

  “He goes, as do all the Abbasid Princes, at the Caliph’s command.”

  “Shall you then allow him to depart with them?”

  “And why should I prevent him? Let him go with the rest,” he shrugged.

  Rukn al-Din now perceived that Sahban truly welcomed the extinction of

  the House of ‘Abbas. He was opposed to the fellow’s fanatical dreams of a Fatimid restoration, as has been previously explained to the Reader, and he resolved to

  prevent Prince Ahmad from quitting his palace on this night of all nights. He

  stopped Sahban and said, “We must not allow the prince to be led to his death.”

  “He is not called to his death. Th

  e decree in which the invitation is inscribed

  merely states that he shall go out to Hulagu along with all the sons of his house.”

  Rukn al-Din grasped Sahban by the shoulder. “You know full well the truth

  that lies behind this treaty. We heard it together from Mu’ayyid al-Din’s own lips but yesterday. Let the prince live.”

   | t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t

  “Is his preservation of such import to you then, my Lord?”

  “Its importance to me is of no matter. Neither should his death be to you.

  Take me to him.”

  “Perchance he has already betaken himself to his appointment . . .” he stam-

  mered evasively.

  “You lie, Sahban.” He bristled with anger as he said this. “I charge you to

  produce him instantly!”

  Sahban grew uneasy at Rukn al-Din’s change of manner, and he hastened to

  appease his sudden wrath. “I perceive that I have angered you unnecessarily, my

  Lord,” he mumbled. “If Prince Ahmad is yet to be found in the palace he shall

  certainly be happy to receive you.” Th

  ey had by now arrived at the doors of the

  Prince’s private chambers. Sahban knocked, while Rukn al-Din stood waiting.

  He heard the prince say, “I have almost fi nished dressing.”

  “Th

  ere is no need for ceremony, your Excellency,” Sahban called, “for here is

  a guest who merely wishes to speak with you.

  Th

  e doors opened to reveal Prince Ahmad sitting within. He had fi nished

  dressing in his robes of state, excepting the black turban, emblem of the Abba-

  sids, which he still held in his hand. “Prince Rukn al-Din Baybars al-Bunduqari, whom I have only just mentioned to you this hour, has come from Egypt to meet

  with your Excellency,” Sahban began.

  Prince Ahmad smiled graciously. “Welcome to the valiant Prince. You shall

  be an honored guest of our house,” and he motioned for him to advance into the

  chamber where he sat. “My attendants shall do their best to make you comfort-

  able here until I return shortly from the audience with Hulagu.”

  “His Lordship must under no condition quit the palace this night,” Rukn

  al-Din hastened to reply.

  “Th

  e Commander of the Faithful himself requires it,” Prince Ahmad replied

  in some perplexity at this outburst. “It is a condition of the peace that he has signed with Hulagu. I fear that my absence would cause some unforeseen mischief. I have consulted with Sahban, and he agrees.”

  “I believe he has now changed his mind,” said Rukn al-Din as he glanced

  meaningfully at Sahban. “Ask him, my Lord.”

  Prince Ahmad turned to look curiously at Sahban, who swallowed and pre-

  pared to forswear his earlier counsel. “I have indeed changed my mind, your

  Excellency, for Prince Rukn al-Din has convinced me of the imprudence of your

  t h e i m a m a h m a d’s pa l ace | 

  quitting the palace. It is best that his Lordship remain here this evening, and we shall wait and see what the morrow brings.”

  “And how shall I explain this to the messenger?” the Imam replied.

  “Tell him that you are ill-disposed, your Excellency,” Rukn al-Din suggested.

  Sahban was greatly put out by Rukn al-Din’s sudden arrival and the con-

  sequent faltering of his plans. He dissembled, however, and soon begged leave

  to withdraw, claiming that pressing business obliged him to return at once to

  Qadhimiyya.

  Th

  is precipitate departure aroused Rukn al-Din’s suspicions and he delib-

  erated as to its possible consequences. He resolved to exercise the utmost pru-

  dence and cunning to protect the Imam from any plots that Sahban might devise

  against him. As soon as Sahban had withdrawn, Rukn al-Din turned to Prince

  Ahmad. “Has his Excellency long been acquainted with this Shi‘ite?” he asked.

  “It is so, my good Prince,” he replied.

  “And are you convinced of the sincerity of his aff ection?”

  “He has never given me cause to doubt it.”

  “Do you then believe that the Shi‘a are devoted to the interests of the Abbasid

  Caliphs?”

  Prince Ahmad only bowed his head in silence.

  “My Lord Imam, we are this very moment at the threshold of a great revolu-

  tion in the aff airs of the Caliphate. Does my Lord permit me to speak openly and boldly to him?”

  Prince Ahmad was somewhat taken aback by the somberness of his guest’s

  words. “Of which revolution do you speak, my friend? It is true that we feared

  revolt and sedition before this treaty between the Caliph and Hulagu, but we may surely now expect that our aff airs will return to their proper course.”

  Rukn al-Din smiled sardonically at this speech. “My Lord’s informants have

  been cruelly deceived, and if the primary source of his information be Sahban,

  then he has deliberately engag
ed in falsehood, for he is fully acquainted with the true state of aff airs of the Caliphate, a condition that must inspire terror and dis-gust in all righteous souls—may God be our refuge and may He save the Imam

  Ahmad from its consequences.”

  Th

  e Imam was greatly aff ected by these words. Th

  e terrible apprehension

  they provoked increased in proportion to his admiration and awe of their speaker.

  He was now anxious to hear more. “I perceive the utmost gravity in every word

   | t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t that I have heard and every gesture that I have observed. Speak, Prince, explain yourself. I place my full confi dence in you.”

  “If his Excellency had been guided by Sahban and gone out from his pal-

  ace this night, not a single scion of the House of ‘Abbas would be left in Baghdad!” His eyes shone feverishly in the fl ickering lamplight as he said this and produced a strange eff ect on the Imam. Rukn al-Din appeared to him almost to

  be a prophet who had only just descended from the heavens. “What mean you by

  this?” he anxiously demanded.

  “Once they are conveniently assembled in the Imperial pavilion, Hulagu

  intends to put to death every living member of the House of ‘Abbas under guise

  of this so-called peace treaty!”

  A violent fi t of trembling seized Prince Ahmad upon hearing this terrible

  declaration. “Did Sahban know of this?” he murmured.

  “He did,” Rukn al-Din replied solemnly.

  “God’s curse upon the villain!” he cried, “and may God bless you, my son.

  I shall never forget this favor as long as I live. And yet how my heart bleeds over the destiny of my kin and my people! Are you absolutely certain of what you have told me?”

  “I am, my Lord. Tomorrow all shall be clear as the light of day. Would that

  the fi rst light of dawn prove me wrong, that the peace be a real and enduring

  one, and that no mischief befall his Lordship the Imam. Should he by any chance

  fall into harm’s way, my constant sword shall attend him, and my very life is his ransom.”

  Th

  e Imam’s estimation of Rukn al-Din rose all the more at these valiant

  words and he resolved to submit to him in all matters, for had he not saved him

  from certain death? He proceeded to praise and thank him most warmly, though

  he was truly at a loss as to how to discharge the deep debt that he now owed the mysterious prince. Rukn al-Din interrupted him respectfully. “I have not fi nished, my Lord,” he quietly interposed.

 

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