Tree of Pearls, Queen of Egypt

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Tree of Pearls, Queen of Egypt Page 29

by Jurji Zaydan


  “Speak, friend,” the Imam replied.

  “If the House of ‘Abbas disappears from Baghdad tomorrow, you shall be the

  last living Imam. You must not appear before the populace, but remain in hid-

  ing until God should decree that the Abbasid standard be raised once more in a

  free Muslim land. Cairo, once the capital of the ‘Alawi Fatimids, shall be the new capital of the House of ‘Abbas!”

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

  Th

  e Prince’s astonishment increased at these consecutive tokens of favor,

  and he saw that it was time to reward Rukn al-Din with a pledge of his own. “If

  God most high wills in His wisdom that the Caliphate should pass to me, then

  none other than Prince Rukn al-Din Baybars shall have the Sultanate of Egypt,”

  he solemnly declared.

  His words were music to Rukn al-Din’s ears. His face betrayed not the slight-

  est mark of his inner agitation, however, and he only replied, “Th

  e Sultanate

  must go to the worthiest prince amongst us, my Lord. As for the Caliphate, it is a hereditary right that can neither be bestowed nor transferred.”

  “Can there be anyone in Egypt more deserving of the throne than yourself,

  brave Prince?” the Imam cordially replied. He then fell into a gloomy silence as he pondered the astounding news he had just heard recounted. Th

  e murder of

  Al-Musta‘sim and of all his kin at one fell swoop was almost more than his heart could bear, and his eyes fi lled with tears. “I beg your indulgence, Prince Rukn al-Din,” he murmured sorrowfully. “I grieve for my beloved Baghdad.”

  “I share his Excellency’s grief,” Rukn al-Din replied. “But he is surely not

  ignorant of the causes of this great catastrophe, namely, the corruption that has overtaken the state, the weakness and licentiousness of the Caliph, and his unfortunate overdependence on hypocrites and fl atterers. It seems clear that God has deprived him of His divine favor in order to bestow it on one more deserving.”

  Prince Ahmad only sighed and dried his tears. “Evening has overtaken us, my

  friend. Let us perform the evening prayer together while our meal is being pre-

  pared. We shall dine in each other’s company, then retire to our beds for the night.”

  “I am at my Lordship’s command in every matter but that of sleep. His Excel-

  lency shall go to his bed when he pleases. I shall remain awake through the night to keep watch. Sahban’s hasty departure has aroused my suspicions, and we are

  in troubled times, as my Lord well knows.”

  His vigilance and zeal greatly pleased the Imam. “Here is a born leader of

  men,” he thought to himself. “God bless you, Prince,” he said aloud. “But why do you fear Sahban?”

  “He has failed in his plot to send you to your death, and the overly easy man-

  ner with which he took his leave of us disturbs me,” Rukn al-Din replied. “If he had quarreled with me or bitterly opposed my intervention, I should have been

  more tranquil. His silence can only augur ill, for it means that his rancor shall seek another outlet.”

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

  “But surely he is incapable of such treachery?” the gentle Imam wondered.

  “It may be that I have judged him too hastily,” Rukn al-Din mused, “but I

  nonetheless intend to remain alert. And now if my Lord desires it, I shall gladly accompany him to prayers.” Prince Ahmad rose and the pair went to the private oratory of the palace, aft er which they returned to dine, while Rukn al-Din admiringly took note of the Imam’s evident piety and sincere devotion.

  Discovery

  they sat down to take their supper, and Prince Ahmad showed his guest

  the utmost consideration and hospitality, all the while warmly endeavoring to

  express his gratitude at having been saved from certain death. “Th

  ank me not,

  your Excellency,” Rukn al-Din said to him. “It is surely only God’s reward for one of your own many acts of goodness.”

  Th

  e Imam Ahmad smiled and bowed his head in contemplation. “Indeed, it

  may be so,” he began. “Perhaps God did send you to me this night in reward for a kindness that I did but of late perform by His own command.”

  Th

  e Imam’s modesty pleased Rukn al-Din, and he waited to hear the rest of

  his speech. “I thank Him for this good fortune, for it is one of His blessings, and it has been bestowed upon me in the midst of an existence awash with hardship

  and distress. My only crime was to have been a scion of the House of ‘Abbas

  and a potential successor to the greatest of thrones. How I have complained to

  God of this, and wished that He had made me a man among common men! Th

  e

  Caliph, however, was not content to confi ne me to my home, but ordered that I be brought to this palace and placed under lock and key. God doth work in mysterious ways, for it was by this act of cruelty that I was permitted to save the life of a fellow human being. I was brought here in a small vessel at dead of night. My

  stout guards showed me nothing but the greatest kindness and respect, but sor-

  row and despair strangled my heart, and my soul silently raged at the tyranny to which I was obliged to submit. I sat apart in the bow of the vessel and watched the dark waters rippling past. From time to time my gaze would turn to the passing

  boats coming and going around us, and the sound of the sailors’ calls or snatches of their song brought a small measure of comfort to my dark thoughts. A silent

  vessel glided near to us on the waters. Th

  e only sign of life it emitted was the weak

  light given off by a lamp that hung in its prow. A few minutes before we were to

  

   | t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t dock on the other side of the river, I heard a piercing scream and saw a dark shape plunge into the waters. Suspecting some crime to be afoot I called the captain

  of our boat and requested him to follow the mysterious vessel. He was under

  orders to deliver me forthwith to my prison and so was unable to comply with

  my petition, but aft er a thorough search of the waters around us, he discovered a half-drowned person, struggling to stay afl oat and calling weakly for help. By God’s will we were able to save the unlucky soul as it struggled to take its very last breath.”

  Rukn al-Din listened to this narrative with growing wonder and impatience,

  for he began to hope that the drowning person in question was none other than

  his beloved Shwaykar. Finally, he could control himself no longer. “Is she alive?”

  he cried out. Th

  e Imam was taken aback at this eager interruption, and even

  more so that Rukn al-Din had somehow divined the sex of the person of whom

  he spoke. He begged his guest to explain this strange insight.

  “I know her, my Lord—I know her!” he cried, and he eagerly urged the Imam

  to continue his narrative.

  “Th

  e sailors applied themselves to the task of reviving her until she recov-

  ered. We saw that her hair had been shorn and we questioned her on the train of

  events that had brought her to this sorry pass, but she was unable to speak and so we refrained from all further attempts at disclosure.”

  “It is Shwaykar, my Lord! Shwaykar! Allow me to see her, I entreat you. Is

  she not here?”

  “No, my son, she is not. Had I known that she be of such importance to you,

  I would surely have detained her.”

  “Your Excellency, I entreat you to tell me where I may now fi nd her.”

>   “No sooner had we arrived at our destination than I gave instructions that

  her wet clothing be replaced and that she be permitted to rest. Once she had

  recovered, I begged her to explain her situation and to allow me to off er her any assistance that she might require, but thanking me profusely, she declined to

  reveal her history. Th

  e sailors guessed from the vessel that carried her that the

  girl was an Imperial slave who had fallen from favor and been sentenced to death by drowning. None of us dared to reveal the circumstances of her rescue to a soul, however. I asked her again if she knew anyone in Baghdad with whom she desired

  to take refuge. She replied that she wished to be taken to our friend, Sahban the merchant. We disguised her in the costume of a male servant, her shorn head

  dis c ov e ry | 

  making this undertaking easier to accomplish, and we sent her in the company

  of one of our men to Qadhimiyya and Sahban’s house this very morning. When

  Sahban came to me today he had not yet received intelligence of her arrival.”

  Rukn al-Din was overcome by this unexpected news and his heart beat with

  joy that Shwaykar had escaped death’s clutches. Her presence in Sahban’s house

  disturbed him not a little, however. Imam Ahmad was now desirous of discov-

  ering the nature of the connection that bound Shwaykar to Rukn al-Din, and

  he urged his friend to tell his story. Rukn al-Din then narrated the history of

  the liaison from its beginnings in Egypt; of Sallafa’s perfi dy; and of his fruitless inquiries in Baghdad. Imam Ahmad now greatly regretted having sent Shwaykar

  to Sahban’s house, though in truth he had nothing with which to reproach him-

  self, having been entirely unaware of her true identity.

  Pandemonium

  as they were thus engaged, they heard a great uproar in the palace gardens.

  Th

  e Imam Ahmad was greatly alarmed by the sudden din, but Rukn al-Din had

  been expecting it and was only surprised that it had taken this long to transpire.

  He signaled to the Imam to remain calm, and swift ly made his way to the pal-

  ace doors like a lion bracing for an enemy attack. One of the guards had rushed

  inside and barricaded the doors. Rukn al-Din saw that the man was terrifi ed.

  “Th

  e Tatar, my Lord!” the guard shouted when he saw Rukn al-Din. “Th

  ey

  have entered the gardens and demand that we deliver his Excellency the Imam

  into their hands.”

  “Go out to them and inform them that I shall meet them personally,” Rukn

  al-Din resolutely commanded.

  “But they want none but the Imam, and they threaten to attack the palace

  and to kill every last one of its inhabitants if we do not deliver him.”

  Th

  e Imam, who had hurried to join his protector, overheard this conversation,

  and he now implored Rukn al-Din to submit, for he preferred to go with the Tatar in peace rather than bear the burden of the general massacre that must ensue.

  “Take comfort, my Lord,” Rukn al-Din calmly replied. “Not one of these

  men shall touch a single hair of your head as long as the blood continues to run through my veins.”

  “And why imperil your life thus, my son, if these Tatar are to triumph come

  what may? Th

  ey outnumber us and are much better armed.”

  “Th

  ey shall never triumph, God willing,” was Rukn al-Din’s only reply. He

  climbed up to a small aperture above the door and looked out at the gardens.

  Th

  ey were bristling with men, some carrying fl aming torches that lit up the dark, others wielding swords and quarterstaff s. Th

  e noise and tumult were great. At the

  head of the crowd stood a man that looked, from his attire, to be their leader, and

  

  pa n de mon i u m | 

  Sahban stood next to him. Th

  e sight of Sahban confi rmed Rukn al-Din’s earlier

  fears, and his blood boiled with fury at this craven treachery. “Sahban!” he called out to him.

  Sahban looked up and saw Rukn al-Din. Th

  e armed men that surrounded

  him had made him bold. “You must give up the Imam,” he shouted in reply. “Th

  e

  Khakan himself now demands it. You cannot hide him away any longer, Rukn

  al-Din.”

  “I shall not surrender him.”

  “Th

  e Khakan has ordered his immediate arrest. If you refuse to deliver him,

  these soldiers will attack the palace and take him by force.”

  “It is you and none else who has instigated this laughable little scene, Sahban.

  I advise you to withdraw with your men, my friend.”

  “I do not understand your defi ance, Prince. Th

  is aff air concerns you not.”

  “Neither does this treachery become or serve you in any way.”

  Sahban hesitated and bit his lip. Rukn al-Din was a formidable foe, and with

  the men of the palace could well mount a successful resistance to a siege. Sah-

  ban was pressed for time, moreover, and hoped to conclude the aff air as quickly as possible. He consequently decided to try another avenue of attack. “I would

  inform you, Prince Rukn al-Din, that Shwaykar, for whose sole sake you came to

  this distant country, has once again come under my protection. I shall deliver her to you safely when you leave this palace.”

  Th

  is veiled threat cast an icy chill over Rukn al-Din’s heart.

  “Now, open these doors,” Sahban resumed, “or we shall force them, and you

  know full well what the consequences shall be for the Imam—and for yourself,”

  he added darkly.

  Upon hearing this exchange, the Imam Ahmad resumed his attempts to

  induce Rukn al-Din to submit, but the young prince would not listen and, calling for his weapons, prepared, with the handful of guards that remained indoors, to

  defend the palace and its precious tenant.

  Not receiving a response to his last ultimatum, Sahban resumed. “I have

  warned you repeatedly, Prince, and again I say, surrender! You and all those

  within this palace are at the mercy of these soldiers, and unless you take heed

  you shall never again see Shwaykar.”

  If this threat had been calculated to weaken Rukn al-Din’s resolve, it had the

  exact opposite eff ect, for the fury and contempt it inspired only strengthened his

   | t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t heart and steadied his determination. Suddenly a familiar voice rang out loud

  and clear in the midst of the din. “Do not believe him, my Lord! Shwaykar is

  safe with us!” Rukn al-Din recognized his trusty servant ‘Abid’s speech. ‘Abid

  now turned to Sahban and pointed an accusing fi nger at him. “It is you who have incited the Tatar against us!”

  Sahban drew himself up in outraged dignity. “Away with you, knave! I only

  execute the command of the Khakan himself.”

  “Lies!” ‘Abid’s voice rang out again for all to hear. “Th

  e Khakan has given me

  and every one of the inhabitants of this palace his personal amnesty—and here

  is the proof. Look!” As he said this he withdrew the yellow banner of amnesty

  that Mu’ayyid al-Din had given Rukn al-Din, and unfurled it where he stood. As

  soon as the Tatar soldiers caught sight of the fl uttering standard they fell respectfully silent and began preparing to withdraw from the garden. Sahban watched

&nbs
p; in dismay as they slowly quit the scene of the stillborn battle, and having no other choice, he scurried aft er them, shamed and defeated. Rukn al-Din watched this

  ignominious retreat while his heart danced for joy at his triumph, and the Imam

  Ahmad embraced him and kissed his cheeks in thanks.

  Rukn al-Din and the Imam Ahmad returned to the chamber they had so

  precipitously quit and impatiently waited for ‘Abid to attend upon them. As soon as he breathlessly entered the room, Rukn al-Din fell upon him eagerly for news

  of Shwaykar. “She is here, my Lord. Upon hearing from the servant who accom-

  panied her to Sahban’s house in Qadhimiyya that she was yet alive, I immediately set out to retrieve her and return her here, for Sahban’s conduct this morning did not augur well.”

  “May God bless you for being the true and devoted friend that you are,”

  Rukn al-Din warmly declared. ‘Abid was delighted by this generous acknowledg-

  ment on the part of his master. He bowed deeply and continued. “If you wish to

  see Shwaykar, pray come this way to the apartment where she is lodged.” Rukn

  al-Din followed him eagerly and entered through the doors that ‘Abid indicated.

  Th

  ere she sat, still dressed in the robes of a young eunuch. As soon as she saw

  him she burst into tears of happiness and threw herself upon his knees, shower-

  ing them with kisses. He gently raised her from the ground and kissed her fore-

  head. “I thank God for your safety, my darling, and praise Him for his bounty,”

  he whispered tenderly in her ear. “Our greatest thanks are also due to the Imam

  Ahmad, may God preserve him.”

  pa n de mon i u m | 

  Th

  e Imam, who had followed in Rukn al-Din and ‘Abid’s footsteps to wit-

  ness this sweet reunion, replied, “On the contrary, it is I who must thank you, my Prince. And I heartily congratulate Mistress Shwaykar on this happy outcome.”

  Rukn al-Din now turned to ‘Abid. “How did you come to hear Shwaykar’s

  story, ‘Abid?”

  “I was sitting in the garden and gazing sadly upon the locks of my mistress’s

  hair when one of the servants asked me to tell the story of those locks. I unfolded the contours of the tragic story, and he sat staring at the color and texture of the hair. Suddenly, he jumped up and said, ‘How similar are these particulars to those of the girl we found in the river!’ I begged him to explain himself, and fi nally understood that Shwaykar was the girl who had been taken to Sahban’s house. As

 

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