Tree of Pearls, Queen of Egypt Page 10
As for Shwaykar, her greatest worry was how Rukn al-Din would receive this
catastrophic news and whether it would fi re his jealousy or leave him indiff erent.
It was impossible to know this while he remained far away on the battlefi elds of Damietta, however, and time was too short to summon him before the morrow
and her imminent departure. She fi nally realized that she had no choice but to
resign herself to her fate and to put her trust in God. Her lot was a common one in those days of absolute royal privilege, for these slave-girls were property like any other, to be disposed of by a prince or a sultan as he pleased. Girls like Shwaykar were regularly transferred from master to master, and indeed, had it not been for Rukn al-Din, Shwaykar may have counted herself lucky in being chosen for the
Caliph’s harem, for this was the greatest of honors for such as her. In either case, a concubine was powerless to choose, and must bend to the will of another.
Th
e next morning, aft er a long and mournful farewell between the two
women, a company of eunuchs bore Shwaykar to the encampment of the Caliph’s
emissary. Tree of Pearls had renewed her promise to come to her aid and to do
all in her power to conclude her marriage to Rukn al-Din. Shwaykar departed for
Baghdad the same day, but she left her heart behind in Egypt.
ru k n a l-di n a n d t r e e of pe a r l s |
Tree of Pearls too suff ered greatly from the separation. She was convinced
that Sallafa was behind all her misfortunes and she bitterly blamed ‘Izz al-Din for his double treachery—fi rst as a lover, and second as an ally. She saw how easily he had replaced her on both counts, and despite the rancor that now burned in her
heart, she could do nothing but submit to her lot.
She spent the rest of the morning brooding alone in her apartments, now
railing against her lover’s betrayal, now grieving over the smoldering ashes of her dreams. Her thoughts then turned to Rukn al-Din, whom she expected shortly
in Cairo. How would she receive him when he returned from Damietta, she won-
dered. And what should she say to him?
As luck would have it, he arrived on the very aft ernoon of Shwaykar’s
departure for Baghdad, for when news of the coup that had taken place in Cairo
reached him, he had immediately resolved to return to the Citadel and seek an
audience with Tree of Pearls. Consequently, no sooner had he passed through the
gates and dismounted from his sweating steed than he proceeded directly to the
deposed Queen’s quarters, in his dusty cloak and before even having reported
to his Commander, ‘Izz al-Din Aybak. Tree of Pearls received him warmly and
she informed him of all that had come to pass, most particularly of the wretched fate that had befallen Shwaykar. She averred that she had done everything in her power to defl ect ‘Izz al-Din from his purpose, but to no avail, and she exaggerated his arrogance and insolence in order to arouse Rukn al-Din’s anger against him.
As he listened to her pour out her grievances, Rukn al-Din, freshly arrived
and exhausted by the great haste he had made on his journey, was overcome
with confl icting feelings. At fi rst he imagined—thanks to the artful picture she painted—that ‘Izz al-Din had meant to spite him personally by depriving him
of Shwaykar, but he was by nature highly self-possessed, broad-minded, and
circumspect, and he accordingly held his tongue, though his eyes fl ared with
the anger she had roused in his heart. Tree of Pearls watched him closely as she embroidered her complaint, for she wished he would say some word to cool the
fi res burning in her breast. She hoped above all that Rukn al-Din would be moved to declare ‘Izz al-Din his mortal enemy, if only secretly and in the privacy of her chambers. Th
us would she have her desired revenge, and a powerful accomplice
through whom to work it.
She fi nally grew weary of his stubborn silence and resolved to attempt a
change of strategy. “Why do you remain silent, Rukn al-Din? You are perchance
| t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t
content that we have been deprived of Shwaykar and the throne at one fell swoop, both acts accomplished by the will of that profl igate Caliph?”
Rukn al-Din frowned at this remark. “Of which Caliph do you speak,
Madam?”
“I speak of Al-Musta‘sim, ruler of Baghdad, who is too proud to see a woman
placed on the throne but none too proud to occupy it himself—a cowardly, spine-
less man whose occupations are confi ned to the harem and the disgraceful pur-
suit of pleasure,” she angrily replied. She paused to mark the eff ect of these words on Rukn al-Din, but he remained as still and silent as the grave.
If it had been given to her to read his thoughts, she would have discovered
that this gloomy silence eff ectively concealed his smoldering anger while his
mind, sharp as a fi ne steel blade, worked furiously to make sense of the whirlpool of clashing interests, ambitions, and intrigues which now closed in on him. What could Tree of Pearls mean by speaking so of the Caliph before him? And what
had the state of aff airs at the Imperial Court to do with Shwaykar’s unfortunate but not uncommon lot?
Tree of Pearls could perceive nothing but weakness and cowardly equivoca-
tion in his continued silence, however. She pressed him irritably. “Speak, Rukn
al-Din, I entreat you! I have had enough of this silence. Perhaps you do not believe me? Patience! I shall prove my words. I shall present to you a man who knows our miserable Caliph well. He arrived from Baghdad only yesterday. Question him,
and he shall speak to you of the man’s true character. Pray be seated and I shall summon him before you immediately.”
Rukn al-Din accepted her invitation and sat down distractedly, his fi ngers
nervously tugging at his beard as though he would pull out its fi ne hairs one by one. Th
e Baghdadi entered shortly and Rukn al-Din recognized him at once. “It
is Sahban!” he exclaimed.
“God be praised—He has fi nally forced your tongue! I suppose we must
thank Sahban for this grace, God preserve him. Speak, Sahban. Tell Rukn al-Din
what you know of Al-Musta‘sim, Ruler of Baghdad. Do not be afraid to tell the
truth, for Rukn al-Din is our friend. Tell him what you told me yesterday.”
Sahban had just returned from the mission with which Sallafa had charged
him. Upon his arrival in Cairo, he had immediately sought to meet with her to
inform her of the success of his errand, but she had received him coldly, as had
‘Izz al-Din, her new master. Sahban was quick to realize that he had been sorely
ru k n a l-di n a n d t r e e of pe a r l s |
used, and his heart swelled with hatred against the new lovers and against the
entire Ayyubid State. His recently disappointed hopes of winning Sallafa now
mingled with his deep resentment of Sunni power in the Empire, and he resolved
to strike a blow against both through the medium of the deposed Queen. If he
succeeded in provoking her against the Abbasids, he might eventually succeed in
securing the conditions necessary for a Shi‘ite restoration in Egypt.
In the course of his frequent travels to Egypt Sahban had founded a Shi‘ite
secret society that met to discuss the aff airs of the Empire and complain of Shi‘ite political fortunes. Together they dreamed and they plotted an Alawite Restoration in Egypt and a return to the days of the glorious Fatimid Dynasty. He hoped that enlisting Tree of Pearls in this project wo
uld be an easy task, for she was no doubt already furious at having been deposed by order of the Caliph, and at ‘Izz al-Din’s inconstancy. He had accordingly sought an audience with her on the
usual pretext of exhibiting his wares, and had subtly turned the conversation to the miscreant Caliph and to ‘Izz al-Din’s relations with Sallafa. Tree of Pearls had listened in rising anger, but had kept her silence and waited to sound Rukn al-Din upon his return from Damietta.
Rukn al-Din now received Sahban warmly and invited him to be seated. Tree
of Pearls then spoke. “What news of the Commander of the Faithful, Sahban?”
she prompted, and let out an acid little peal of laughter.
“If you so permit me my Lady. Th
e Caliph is a slothful glutton who cares for
nothing but wine, food, and song.”
“And what is your opinion of his government?” she continued, with a glance
at Rukn al-Din.
“I fear for the Empire, from the discontent of its own people as much as from
the ambitions of the Mongols. Th
ey are preparing an invasion as we speak, and
the population of Baghdad lives in daily fear. Th
e Caliph is otherwise occupied,
however. If he does not change his ways and shoulder his responsibilities, the
Empire will surely be destroyed.”
Rukn al-Din laughed and said, “Th
e Abbasid Empire destroyed? Th
e experts
who are wont to pronounce on such matters never cease to repeat that it shall last forever!”
“Th
ey may say what they will. Th
e end approaches,” Sahban grimly replied.
Rukn al-Din leaned forward in his seat. “Surely you do not mean to say that
the Caliphate itself is doomed?”
| t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t
“By no means, my Lord.”
“But if what you say be true, where shall we fi nd a new Caliph, and who shall
secure his dominion over Egypt?”
Sahban glanced around and nervously licked his lips. “Th
ere is no reason why
the future Caliph need be of the Abbasid line. Why should he not be from the land of Egypt? Was not Egypt the seat of a brilliant Caliphate less than one hundred
years ago? Was not the country then all the more prosperous and magnifi cent?”
Rukn al-Din interrupted him impatiently. “I believe you speak of the ‘Abidi
State? But these were Shi‘a!”
“What diff erence does it make whether they were Shi‘a or Sunnis? Are we
not all the descendants of Qurayshi Muslims? Th
e real diff erence would be an
Egyptian Caliphate. Th
ink upon it! Egypt’s commerce would thereby prosper,
its fl eets expand, its cities fl ourish, and its conquests multiply, while Iraq would become one of its many provinces rather than its imperial master.”
Rukn al-Din listened carefully to Sahban’s words while his sharp mind
plumbed their hidden purpose. He was not unaware of the longstanding Shi‘ite
grievance against the Sunni Caliphate, and he did not propose to be used as a
pawn of some fl edgling Shi‘ite conspiracy. He therefore refrained from comment
and proceeded to politely dismiss his eager interlocutor. He rose from his seat.
“You have enlightened us, Sahban, may God recompense you well.”
Sahban immediately rose in his turn and, bowing deeply, requested permis-
sion to withdraw. Rukn al-Din’s utter silence had bewildered him. “Here is a man who trusts no one!” he thought to himself as he left .
Tree of Pearls was no less surprised than Sahban. As soon as he had left , she
turned to Rukn al-Din and clenched her teeth in frustration. “Th
e time has come
for you to speak! I shall refrain from adding anything to what you have already
heard of the decline of the Abbasids in Baghdad, or of the state of the Egyptian Sultanate—for its King is a boy of eight years and the entire government is in the hands of his Regent, ‘Izz al-Din!”
“Methinks you wax exceedingly angry with my Lord ‘Izz al-Din, my Lady. Is
it because he has permitted Shwaykar to be taken from you?”
“Indeed, this is the main cause of my vexation—though I may well have
other, more personal grievances against him,” she added grimly.
“Permit me to inquire whether Shwaykar went to Baghdad of her own free
will?”
ru k n a l-di n a n d t r e e of pe a r l s |
“Upon my word, Rukn al-Din! Her tears overfl owed like fountains as she took
her leave of me, and she repeatedly begged to be remembered to you. You may be
sure that she shall remain true to her troth and never accept another, though it be the Caliph himself. I assured her that you would not abandon her and that the valiant Rukn al-Din would be our zealous champion until the end—both hers and
mine, for I too am quite alone now since the infamous ‘Izz al-Din saw fi t to turn his attentions elsewhere. He has forgotten our friendship . . .” she trailed off plaintively, but the fi re quickly returned to her eyes. “But what of it?” she cried as she gazed squarely at Rukn al-Din. “God is with those who are patient!”
Rukn al-Din chose to ignore this last exclamation. “Shwaykar still loves me,
then?” he demanded. “Do you suspect that I may be any less true to her?”
“I have no doubt that you shall do all that is within your power to rescue and
avenge her. And now,” she continued, changing the subject, “what think you of
Sahban’s views on the Fatimid Caliphate?”
“I do not like it,” he testily replied. “A Shi‘ite restoration in Egypt would neither serve our interests nor suit our present conditions. Th
ere is, however, a time
and a place for everything,” he added. “Let us wait for the appropriate moment in which to act, if act we must. I must now beg permission to withdraw, my Lady,”
and he rose to go.
Tree of Pearls gave a bitter little smile. “In God’s keeping,” she replied.
A Secret Conversation
rukn al-din returned immediately to his quarters in the Citadel. He informed
no one of his arrival and he postponed his meeting with ‘Izz al-Din to the mor-
row. He dismissed the servants and shut the door to his bedchamber fast behind
him; then he undressed while mulling over all the extraordinary things he had
heard that day.
Despite his great bravery and his martial prowess, Rukn al-Din was still an
inexperienced youth. Only now, aft er hearing of the upheaval that had taken
place at the heart of the Egyptian State and being informed of the condition of
the Caliphate in Baghdad, was he beginning to understand the true meaning of
ambition. Sahban’s purpose in disparaging the Abbasid Caliphate and praising the Fatimids had not escaped him. Neither was he deceived by Tree of Pearls’s exaggerated account of Al-Musta‘sim’s faults, and her incitements against him. Likewise, he had taken careful stock of her rancor against ‘Izz al-Din, and he well perceived that if she wished him—Rukn al-Din—success in his endeavors, it was only to
be revenged on her enemies. All these thoughts passed through his mind as he
changed into his dressing gown and nightcap and stretched out onto his bed.
One thought now became fi xed in his mind: that Tree of Pearls and Sahban
had attempted to incite him to seize power, not out of the high regard or aff ection in which they held him, but simply for their own various ends. He saw no perfi dy or injury to himself in this, nor did he fi nd it strange that it should be so
, for he was sensible and astute and saw straight into the heart of a matter. He was not the sort of man to believe in the selfl essness of even his closest friend, for he knew full well that men never embark on an action without having a secret purpose and
an expected profi t to themselves in mind. Th
ose who claim to do good without
recompense and for the sole benefi t of others are either mistaken, or deluded,
or outright liars: those who will but acknowledge this simple fact would be in a
a se cr et c on v e r sat ion |
much better position to treat their friends justly, neither expecting the impossible from them, nor blaming them for their natural selfi shness.
Rukn al-Din was grateful to his two friends for revealing the outlines of their
blossoming intrigue and he resolved to profi t from it when the time was ripe, but for now he preferred to conceal his own intentions for as long as possible. In the close privacy of his rooms he considered his situation aloud. “Th
ey have taken
Shwaykar from me. Th
e Caliph has summoned her to Baghdad so that he might
delight in her unparalleled voice, a rare treasure even amongst the loveliest and most accomplished of singing-girls. Tree of Pearls attempts to provoke my anger
against Al-Musta‘sim because of this. But is it right to resent him for an act by which both Shwaykar’s worth and her good fortune have been multiplied? I have
no right to feel myself injured on this score, for he did not deliberately deprive me of her. Perhaps it is true that this Caliph is weak, or extravagant and licentious, and that he consequently deserves to die or be deposed, as some would
say. But who shall guarantee that his successor would be any better? And who
would undertake such a perilous mission, unless himself a hardy aspirant to the
throne? Truly, our Shi‘ite friend’s delusions of reviving the ‘Abidi State or some like Alawite dynasty in Egypt were quite amusing! What possible benefi t could
Egypt thereby derive? Were the Caliphate to be transferred to Egypt, there would be no more Sultanate! Th
e Abbasid Caliphate in Baghdad is the guarantor of the
might and independence of the Egyptian Sultans, aft er all. I would do well, nonetheless, to keep myself apprised of the man’s intentions, and even to encourage