Tree of Pearls, Queen of Egypt Read online

ere was, in the caravan that brought me from Egypt, a good eunuch—

  ‘Abid of Basra. He is the bearer of this letter to you. I found refuge in the great kindness he showed me on this wretched journey. I have seized an opportunity to hastily compose this letter and I have begged him to deliver it into your hands.

  Pray reward him as you should see fi t, and may God bless you, for I fear we shall meet no more in this world. I seal this letter with my tears.

  While Tree of Pearls was engaged in reading this letter, Rukn al-Din impa-

  tiently questioned the eunuch about the mysterious circumstances of which

  Shwaykar had written.

  “I know nothing, my Lord,” the man replied. “I was but a servant in the

  caravan that brought the Caliph’s decree to Cairo, and when the girl joined our

  sh way k a r | 

  company on the return voyage to Baghdad, I was ordered to wait upon her. We

  only knew that she was destined for the Caliph’s harem, and I did my best to serve her well and to provide her with every comfort, for she was generous and kind

  to me. Upon reaching the outskirts of Baghdad, a company of soldiers came out

  to meet us, and having informed us that they had been sent by the Caliph, they

  demanded that we hand her over to them. We had no choice but to obey, but we

  soon realized that they were not whom they pretended to be and surmised that

  they had no intention of conducting her to the royal palaces as they claimed. I

  took pity on the poor child, and when I attempted to comfort her she replied, ‘My only wish is that you will take this letter to Prince Rukn al-Din at the Citadel of Cairo and deliver it into his own hands,’ and this I have now done.”

  “And where is she now?” he demanded. “And what shall these scoundrels do

  with her, think you? What can be their purpose in seizing her in this manner?”

  “I know not, my Lord. We were all astonished by this turn of events.”

  Rukn al-Din stopped to consider. What could the cause of all this be? He

  could see no reason in it. He turned once again to the messenger. “And now,

  ‘Abid, if I give you a letter will you take it to her? Do you think you can fi nd her?”

  “I shall do my utmost to fi nd her, and shall not rest until I succeed. I shall be her faithful servant and my life shall be her ransom, for she is truly a generous and aff ectionate child.”

  Rukn al-Din praised the eunuch’s devotion. “Come to me tomorrow morn-

  ing,” he said. “You shall fi nd me in my chambers at the Citadel.”

  ‘Abid bowed in submission and took his leave.

  Revenge

  rukn al-din stood nailed to the spot, lost in thought. Th

  en he became once

  again conscious of Tree of Pearls, who had fi nished reading the letter, her face fl ushed with mounting fury. She met his look fi ercely. “Such are the actions of caliphs who disdain to place a woman on the throne! Here is your Musta‘sim,

  Commander of the Faithful. Upon my word, if a bold woman were to take up his

  scepter, she would wield it a thousand times more eff ectively than he! He busies himself with wine and slaves, he seizes our womenfolk, and we meekly submit.”

  Rukn al-Din would not be so easily provoked. “Al-Musta‘sim is surely inno-

  cent of Shwaykar’s current distress,” he retorted.

  “Who, then, is responsible for it?” she demanded. “Was it not he who sent

  that band of villains to seize her? And even if they acted without his knowledge, does this not yet prove the man’s weakness and the little respect in which he is so generally held that thieves and bandits would dare to abduct a singing-girl coming to him in a great retinue from the court of the Egyptian Sultan?” She wrung her

  hands in despair, and suddenly added, “But it is my fault aft er all, for letting her go!”

  For once, Rukn al-Din’s self-possession failed him. “If it is anyone’s fault, it is

  ‘Izz al-Din’s,” he interrupted brusquely. “If he had wished it, he would have found a ruse by which to retain Shwaykar.”

  Tree of Pearls eagerly seized on this unexpected declaration. “You speak too

  truly, my friend! I know not what has wrought this change in our great Prince,”

  she said derisively. “It seems that ambition disfi gures its lovers. In aspiring to the Sultanate, ‘Izz al-Din discarded his conscience and those who were once dear to

  his heart.” Th

  e words stuck in her throat, and she fell silent.

  Rukn al-Din was struck by the force of Tree of Pearls’s resentment against

  her arrogant paramour. He realized that he had made a mistake in so openly

  speaking his mind, and he resolved to temper his accusations and to carefully

  

  r ev e nge | 

  draw out her true intentions towards the Regent. “I do not believe that his actions were guided by ambition, for his position has not greatly changed since you sat

  upon the throne. On the contrary, he wielded even greater power during your

  brief reign, my Lady,” he added meaningfully. “Perhaps aft er all he had no choice but to obey the Caliph’s command regarding Shwaykar.”

  She gave a forced laugh and her face grew pale with indignation. “Perhaps

  he obeyed the command of someone other than the Caliph.” She swallowed her

  bile and set to wiping the perspiration from her mouth and forehead with her

  handkerchief.

  Rukn al-Din understood that she referred to Sallafa. “Do you blame him

  then for seeking his own interest? Th

  ere is no one in the world who—”

  “Nay! I blame him not for this,” she interrupted him forcefully. “I blame those

  who fail to seek it! Th

  is Prince has sacrifi ced us all—Shwaykar, Rukn al-Din, and

  Tree of Pearls—to his ambition. He shows us nothing but contempt, while we con-

  tinue to honor him and seek his favor.” She shift ed in her seat and fell silent.

  Rukn al-Din took note of her evident discomfort. Wishing to provoke her

  further, he continued. “I feel the insult to myself keenly, as you well know, but I see no reason why he should deserve this fury from you. He was not the author of the fate that has befallen you; neither has he substantially gained from it.”

  She waved her hand impatiently. “You constrain me to speak, Rukn al-Din.

  Allow me therefore to reveal my mind to you. You perhaps suspect that I have

  grown to hate ‘Izz al-Din because of his attachment to that Kurdish slave. She is the one who has aided him in his treachery. She is but a poor fool, however, for he has betrayed her, as he betrayed me, and shall surely abandon her entirely once

  he has achieved his ends.”

  “And what may these ends be?” he inquired.

  “‘Izz al-Din has resolved to seize the throne!” she exclaimed.

  He laughed at the folly of this claim. “Does he not already possess it? Al-

  Ashraf is aft er all nothing but a pretty picture with no substance.”

  “True, but he shall nonetheless depose the boy and have himself crowned

  Sultan in his stead, with the full support of the Turcoman Commanders,” she

  darkly predicted.

  Rukn al-Din shook his head doubtfully. “How can such a thing be? Th

  e peo-

  ple have declared that they shall be ruled by none other than a scion of the House of Ayyub.”

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

  Tree of Pearls laughed scornfully in her turn. “You are still inexperienced,

  my Lord, but you shall soon understand that what you call the people have nei-

  ther voice nor opinion. Th

  ey are ever wont to change their
minds with each

  passing wind of political authority. ‘Izz al-Din has taken advantage of your

  lengthy absence from the court to win the support of the princes closest to him.

  I have heard that they have already chosen the title of the fi rst Fatimid Caliph for him, that of Al-Mu‘iz. Do you still doubt it then? Th

  ink! Do you not feel that

  he has changed towards you?”

  Rukn al-Din was stunned by this news, but he made a supreme eff ort to

  remain composed and reveal nothing to Tree of Pearls’s watchful gaze. Was not

  the throne of Egypt destined for a scion of the Ayyubid line? Tree of Pearls’s

  short-lived and ill-fated reign had only proved this politic rule. And yet here

  was ‘Izz al-Din Aybak plotting to assume the Sultanate by force of arms. And

  if ‘Izz al-Din could succeed in this endeavor, why not himself? He now cov-

  eted the throne even more, but determined to continue his policy of dissimula-

  tion. He was more than ever convinced that ‘Izz al-Din owed all to the cunning

  eff orts of Sallafa, and resolved to question Tree of Pearls directly on the subject. “My Lady, I do believe that Sallafa has played a momentous role in these

  events.”

  “I do not doubt it,” she stonily replied, “considering her Kurdish lineage and

  the good relations she maintains with a number of the most infl uential princes

  at court, Ayyubid and others. I am convinced that she has acted most treach-

  erously, fi rst by stealing ‘Izz al-Din away from Tree of Pearls, and second by

  subverting the will of the Caliph she pretends to serve. But mark you my words,

  she shall be sorely disappointed, for our new Sultan shall yet spurn her, as he

  spurned me.” She smiled triumphantly and her eyes fl ashed with malice.

  “Explain yourself, I beg you, my Lady,” Rukn al-Din replied.

  “Do you wish then that I should tell you all I know of the intimate aff airs

  of that traitor?” she hissed. “You ask me to whom he shall belong. I shall answer you. He claims a third woman.”

  “And who is this third woman, pray tell.”

  “She is not of this country.”

  “Surely you jest?” he said in wonder.

  “Nay, I speak the truth. ‘Izz al-Din seeks the hand of the daughter of Badr

  al-Din Lu’lu’, Governor of Mosul.”

  r ev e nge | 

  “Th

  e Caliph holds the Governor of Mosul in high esteem,” he mused aloud.

  “Do you then think that he will succeed in his suit?”

  Tree of Pearls sprang furiously from her seat. “Never! He shall never have

  her! His destiny lies elsewhere, for there is a fourth lover who awaits him,” and she executed the swift motion of a dagger slicing through the air.

  From this gesture, and from the bloodshot fury in her eyes, Rukn al-Din

  perceived that Tree of Pearls meant to assassinate her former lover. He laughed to hide his alarm at this extravagant design and rose to take his leave. “Your passion carries you away, my Lady. I am inclined to doubt the sagacity of such a plan. You yourself will agree with me if you think well upon it. It is midnight and I must take my leave of you. May God preserve you.”

  “Woe unto you, Rukn al-Din!” she cried, as he turned to depart. “How dare

  you quit me so precipitously aft er I have bared my heart to you?”

  “What would you have of me, my Lady?”

  “Your indiff erence astounds me! We have spoken of many things, and I have

  confi ded much to you that I have jealously guarded from all other ears, yet you remain as silent and unmovable as a rock. If it be subtlety and cunning that make you act so, then I commend you, but if not, it is clear that you are truly a cold and unfeeling man. So be it! I yet expect you to say a word regarding that wretched

  girl who accepted your love, and who suff ers the more for it. Her letter has broken my heart. If I were in your place, I would have mounted my steed and sped

  off to Baghdad this very hour, and would never return until I had wrought my

  vengeance on the debauched tyrant who stole her away!”

  Her words fell like arrows upon the Prince’s heart, and he was sorely tempted

  to confi de in her, but he held back from such rashness with great eff ort and hid his perplexity with a short, sharp laugh. “By God, you are indeed a zealous and

  brave champion, my Lady! I suppose myself to have similar qualities, but I shall hold my tongue at present, for I am certain that my deeds shall do infi nitely more to gratify you than anything I could possibly say.” His eyes glittered as he said this, and an expression of gravity and determination darkened his face.

  She walked towards him and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Th

  is is the

  Rukn al-Din I know well!” she said. “Your words reassure me. Know that I shall

  do my utmost to aid you in your endeavor.” She lowered her voice signifi cantly.

  “Once at Baghdad, you shall slay Al-Musta‘sim and I shall take care of ‘Izz al-Din here in Cairo! Th

  e Sultanate shall then be yours!”

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

  Rukn al-Din’s face turned pale at this deadly compact now openly prof-

  fered. Th

  ey searched each other’s eyes for a moment then he bowed deeply to the

  deposed Queen. “Shall you now give me permission to withdraw, my Lady?”

  She motioned her consent to him, and he took his leave, while his mind spun

  with the echo of her words and the utter folly of such a perilous undertaking.

  Another Messenger

  rukn al-din sorely wished to gain the peace and solitude of his rooms in order

  to ponder his remarkable conference with Tree of Pearls. He pressed on but could barely make out his way in the dark, so disturbed was he by the evening’s events.

  He was not to have his wish, however, for the sentry hurried towards him as he

  reached the door to his quarters. “A servant waits here to speak with my Lord,”

  and he pointed to a man standing next to him.

  “Who is he?” Rukn al-Din inquired as he turned to peer at a fi gure that stood

  back in the shadows. It was not Shwaykar’s messenger come to receive his reply to her letter, as he fi rst supposed, but someone he had never seen before.

  Th

  e man approached and wordlessly placed a sealed letter in the Prince’s

  hand. Rukn al-Din commanded his servant to hasten to his chamber and light

  the lamps there as he examined the paper and the unfamiliar seal.

  He mounted to his chamber and opened the letter. A cloud of perfume rose

  to meet his nostrils; from this, he surmised that it had been composed by a feminine hand. He began to read by the light of the lamp and was greatly surprised

  to discover that it was from the mysterious woman who had been so much in his

  thoughts of late.

  Sallafa, Slave of the Good King and Custodian of his Harem, requests an audience with Prince Rukn al-Din Baybars the moment he should receive this letter.

  Her messenger shall guide him to the appointed meeting-place.

  Rukn al-Din pondered this strange note. He wondered what possible reason

  Sallafa could have for wishing to see him so urgently, for they barely knew each other. Curiosity triumphed over caution and fatigue, however, for he powerfully

  desired to discover the cause of this summons and whether he might somehow

  benefi t from the interview.

  

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

  He summoned the messenger. “Is the place far from here?” he demanded.

  “No, my Lord, it
is close by.”

  “And have you been waiting long?”

  “I have waited two hours, my Lord, for my mistress forbade me to return

  empty-handed.”

  Th

  is reply only increased his wonder. “Take me to her, then,” he commanded.

  “If you please, my Lord.”

  Th

  ey passed through the gates of the Citadel unmolested by the sentinels on

  duty. As they walked on in silence, a strange feeling of disquiet slowly crept over Rukn al-Din, and he was powerless to discover the cause of it.

  Th

  ey moved quietly through the darkened streets of Cairo, with nothing but

  the scattered lamps that hung over an occasional doorway to light their gloomy

  way. Finally, Rukn al-Din’s guide stopped and knocked at an imposing door. A

  small aperture was opened and a servant thrust his head through to peer at them.

  Th

  e guide nodded to him, whereupon the door slowly swung open and Rukn

  al-Din was invited to step inside. He entered into a dark garden. Th

  e dim candle-

  light that emanated from a balcony above barely suffi

  ced to dispel the murkiness

  of his surroundings. Rather, it gave the place an eerie air, casting ghostly shadows around the densely planted trees that seemed to crouch in waiting for the unsuspecting guest.

  Strange fancies beset him as he looked about, and he almost began to regret

  having come, but he steeled himself and walked on with a fi rm step, for he was a stranger to fear—except perhaps the fear of scandal. Rukn al-Din was well apprised of the relations that bound the mistress of this house to ‘Izz al-Din Aybak.

  Th

  e messenger had preceded him into the garden and disappeared to inform

  his mistress of the arrival of her guest. He presently returned and motioned for Rukn al-Din to follow him. Th

  ey continued on into a candlelit hall where thick

  carpets and soft cushions had been carefully spread. He was surprised to note

  that many of the room’s rich furnishings had heretofore decorated Al-Salih’s palaces, and he surmised that ‘Izz al-Din had presented these looted ornaments to

  Sallafa as valuable tokens of his esteem.

  Sallafa herself stood at the entrance of the hall to receive him. She had dressed in her richest fi nery, leaving her lovely face unveiled, and her heady perfume