Tree of Pearls, Queen of Egypt Page 18

  Mu’ayyid al-Din was in dire need of such comfort. As he prayed, however,

  he was distracted by an odd-looking Sufi sheikh kneeling behind him and mum-

  bling his prayers. Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, he saw that the man had begun to creep slowly in his direction. Th

  e hairs on the back of Mu’ayyid al-Din’s

  neck stood on end. He wondered whether the man was mentally disturbed. He

  turned to stare at him, but the Sufi had resumed his original position and seemed to be lost in prayer. Reassured, Mu’ayyid al-Din once again returned to his own

  pleas for divine guidance.

  When he had fi nished, he rose and slowly made his way towards the door

  of the mosque. A group of people stood by, waiting to pay their respects to the

  Abbasid Minister, and he returned their greetings distractedly. When he reached

  home, he was startled to see the same Sufi that he had noticed in the mosque

  standing by the great wooden doors and muttering over a string of prayer beads.

  Mu’ayyid al-Din stopped and stared at him. Th

  e Sufi approached Mu’ayyid al-

  Din and greeted him with a cunning smile. “I reveal that which is hidden. Allow

  me to unveil the Way to you, Mu’ayyid al-Din.”

  Mu’ayyid al-Din blinked. In contrast to his shabby appearance, the man’s

  voice rang out forcefully. His accent, moreover, was distinctly foreign. Clearly, this was no poor, wandering dervish and it was no small matter that had brought

  

   | t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t him to Mu’ayyid al-Din’s door. He scrutinized the stranger’s face and clothes. He wore the cap and gown of a Sufi and carried the prayer beads of a Sufi , but his expression was not that of a dervish, nor was his short, fi nely groomed beard.

  “Who are you?” Mu’ayyid al-Din sternly demanded.

  “I am a seer into the hearts of men. I chase away all cares and reveal all

  secrets. I shall guide you on the Sound Path. If you do not believe me, then put me to the test.”

  Aft er a moment’s hesitation, Mu’ayyid al-Din signaled for him to follow,

  and he instructed the porter to introduce the dervish into his private cham-

  bers. Mu’ayyid al-Din preceded his strange guest, his mind teeming with unan-

  swered questions. He was strongly inclined to consult the stranger’s visions, for he believed in the saintly power of God’s chosen ones and he dared to hope that

  this man was indeed one of them. A few moments later the dervish entered, one

  hand thrust deeply into the opposite sleeve of his garment while the other ceaselessly told a set of fi ne prayer beads. Mu’ayyid al-Din invited him to be seated and inquired if he would take some refreshment. Th

  e dervish declined, and Mu’ayyid

  al-Din dismissed his servant and ordered him to shut the door securely.

  Th

  e Minister’s restless gaze rested once again on his unlikely guest. He did

  not recall ever having seen this man before, and the thought again occurred to

  him that he looked nothing like a real Sufi . He decided to test him immediately.

  “Give us your saintly counsel, wise sheikh,” he began.

  “Show me your palm,” the man replied. He took Mu’ayyid al-Din’s outstretched

  hand and pondered it for a moment. “Your mind is occupied with a momentous

  matter in which there is much danger to you, your family, and your people.”

  Mu’ayyid al-Din nodded apprehensively at these words. Th

  e dervish exam-

  ined the Minister’s palm as though he there read a fi nely scribed letter, then he raised his eyes to Mu’ayyid al-Din once more. “Th

  e dilemma in which you fi nd

  yourself is easily solved, if only you wish it.”

  “Explain yourself!” Mu’ayyid al-Din demanded.

  “You must fi rst consider your own interests and those of your people. Above

  all, you must free yourself of the feeble illusions of the weak-hearted and the

  irresolute. Are you capable of this, Mu’ayyid al-Din?”

  Mu’ayyid al-Din wondered at the stranger’s uncanny powers of divination.

  He abruptly withdrew his hand from the Sufi ’s fi rm grasp. “Tell me fi rst, what is your name?”

  t h e de rv ish | 

  “I am a trusty messenger to a great minister.”

  Mu’ayyid al-Din now realized that his suspicions had been well-founded and

  that the man was no Sufi but a disguised envoy. “And who has sent you?” he

  frowned.

  “A true friend who bears you and your people nothing but good will has sent

  me. But it seems you know not how to profi t from the many advantageous oppor-

  tunities off ered you,” he added severely.

  “Do you dare to threaten me? Explain yourself, man! Who has sent you, I say?”

  “I am the messenger of a great Khan who shall soon invade your country.

  Against his mighty hordes you shall be utterly defenseless.”

  His words struck Mu’ayyid al-Din like a thunderbolt. Th

  is was an envoy of

  Hulagu the Tatar, then, come all the way to Baghdad! He nonetheless thought it

  wise to equivocate until the man should openly declare himself. “And who may

  this great Khan be?”

  Th

  e envoy frowned in displeasure. “It is my Lord Hulagu! Do you not know

  him, then? He has repeatedly bidden you to divest yourself of the ties that bind you to your puny Caliph, confederate of slaves and singers, and yet you remain

  mute. He has now sent me to you as a most sincere counselor. It cannot be lost on you that the great Khan would never have sent his royal envoy on such a mean

  and perilous mission unless he were convinced of the legitimacy and the success

  of his cause. I now call upon you in the name of my Lord, the greatest of Sultans, to rally to his side against this tyrant of the House of ‘Abbas. You shall have delivered yourself and your Shi‘ite brothers from the yoke of injustice and oppression, and you shall sit at the right hand of the future lord of this land.

  “Be not faint of heart!” he continued in a thunderous voice. “Why do you

  bow your head, as though your conscience crushes you, as though you tremble

  to disappoint your Caliph’s trust? Th

  ese are nothing but exaggerated and futile

  considerations. Has he not failed your own hopes? I have been here in Baghdad

  for days now. I know of all that transpired between you and the Caliph and his

  ignoble son. I have watched you grumble and complain. Why lack you the resolve

  to save yourself, man? If you continue to resist the Khakan, you and your kin are lost and shall surely perish along with your feeble master.” His eyes took on the cast of fl inty steel as he delivered this fi nal prediction.

  Mu’ayyid al-Din trembled under the sheer force and audacity of this threat.

  Th

  is man was a foreigner who dared to penetrate alone and unaided into the land

   | t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t of his most bitter enemies. He discerned in the man’s face a courage and dignity not to be found in the common run of men. But Mu’ayyid al-Din’s pride would

  not allow him to give way so easily. “Pray convey my gratitude to your master

  for his generous off er, and tell him that I am unable to comply with his request,”

  he haughtily replied. “It seems he believes that the Empire is inferior to the task of repulsing him. He is mightily mistaken in this. Our army is neither small nor weak, and we are confi dent of victory, should war be declared.”

  Th

  e envoy laughed out loud at Mu’ayyid
al-Din’s earnest speech. “I have pre-

  sented myself to you in the guise of a soothsayer and a mind-reader, and verily, I divine the thinking that lies behind your proud words. You yourself remain unconvinced of what you have just said. Your attempt to conceal the corruption and

  turmoil that plagues your armies is futile. Listen now to my advice and know that we do not wish to imperil your person in any way, nor do we ask you to perform

  any prodigious undertaking. Doubt not that we shall conquer this country, come

  what may. If you act for us, you shall prevent much bloodshed and destruction. We shall infl ict punishment only on those who deserve it for having brought about the iniquities that affl

  ict these lands. Th

  e people are not to blame, especially the Shi‘a,

  who have suff ered for generations at the hands of your Caliphs—most particu-

  larly the present laughingstock. As it may be diffi

  cult for you to retract your last

  words in defense of your master Al-Musta‘sim, I shall not require an immediate

  answer from you. I only hope to off er sound counsel, and I shall give you suffi cient

  opportunity to reconsider. My Lord the Khakan does as he wills. Not long ago you received his offi

  cial letter of warning. If you hearken not to his demands, he shall

  descend upon your lands like an unchained storm. Know that he is all-powerful

  and ever-triumphant; he is the Victorious One. If you love your country and kin, send word of your allegiance to the Great Khan. You shall thereby be saved and

  your infl uence shall be paramount in his government. And now, forgive me if I

  have overtaxed your patience.” As he rose to go, he reached into his pocket and

  produced a fi ne reed cylinder which he presented to Mu’ayyid al-Din. “Th

  is is a

  letter to you from my Lord. Open it only aft er my departure.”

  Th

  e emissary left Mu’ayyid al-Din in a state of wonder and great turmoil. He

  hurried to the terrace, and aft er having watched him disappear through the outer doors, he returned to his chambers and unrolled the scroll. Th

  is is what it said:

  Know, oh Mu’ayyid al-Din, that the messenger with whom you have just spoken

  is Hulagu himself. He has off ered you sound counsel; be counseled therefore! Do

  t h e de rv ish | 

  not attempt to pursue him, for you will certainly fail. While it was in our power to leave you to your ignorance, we have chosen to enlighten you and advise you.

  Consider your situation well and beware of spies. Send your reply in the manner previously agreed upon.

  Mu’ayyid al-Din re-read the paper in astonishment. He could barely believe

  the evidence of his own eyes and ears, so strange was the interview in which

  he had just participated. He bowed his head in deep thought as he considered

  the implications. “Hulagu himself, the Great Khan of the Tatars, served by hun-

  dreds of thousands of men! So little does he trust any one of them to do his work that he comes in person, disguised, and at great personal risk, to speak with me.

  He could have easily sent a real messenger, but such is his vigilance and kingly zeal that he came himself. Surely he must know all our secrets better than we

  ourselves. He knows the size of our army and the state of relations between its

  generals and the Caliph. He knows all! How unlike he is to our sovereign, who

  cares more for a missing slave-girl than for the defense of Baghdad. Th

  ese are

  certain signs of our coming extinction, while the Khan’s actions bespeak assured victory. So it was with the Arab conquest of Byzantium,” he mused. “Our great

  caliphs and generals, the Companions of the Prophet amongst them, were wont

  to take matters into their own hands. Th

  ey depended on none but themselves,

  and holy war was their only occupation; they were few, and yet they defeated

  the vast armies of the Caesars and the Khosraus. Th

  ose days are legend, but alas,

  every empire must come to an end.”

  Th

  is gloomy prediction caused Mu’ayyid al-Din to hang his head in shame.

  “It shall not be so!” he declared out loud. “Th

  e Abbasid Empire shall endure only

  if its government can be reformed. We must have a new Caliph.”

  Night had now let down its veils. He placed the letter under his pillow and

  called for his evening meal. Aft er he had eaten, he retired to bed earlier than was his habit in order to take some much-needed rest from the day’s exertions, but his mind continued to rage. His stubborn loyalty to the Caliph would not leave him

  in peace. He dreamed much that night, and only woke the following morning to

  the voice of the muezzin and the hubbub of the Mustansiriyya students as they

  went off to make their forenoon prayers.

  He was greatly tempted to keep to his bed and give free rein to the thoughts

  that devoured him. It is easier to think in the morning when the mind is clear and truth closer at hand. Mu’ayyid al-Din fi nally resolved to ignore Hulagu’s threats

   | t r e e of pe a r l s , qu e e n of e g y p t and to pursue the path of reform on which he had set his heart. Th

  e decision com-

  forted him, and he quickly rose and began to dress, while his harried thoughts

  wandered to the slave-girl Shwaykar. He wondered whether he had acted wisely

  in this matter. He would have preferred to hand the girl over immediately to the Caliph, but Sahban had stood in his way, and truth be told, the man’s reasons

  were sound. It occurred to him to send for Sahban in order to make sure that he

  had carefully concealed the girl’s hiding place, but on second thought, he decided to wait for him to come of his own accord.

  Wishing to rest and to attend to some private business, Mu’ayyid al-Din

  remained at home all of that day. Th

  e sun set and his evening meal was served,

  but still there was no sign of Sahban. As he prepared to retire for the night, he suddenly remembered the letter that the Dervish had delivered to him the day

  before, and he resolved to destroy it so that it should on no account fall into the wrong hands. He searched the place where he had hastily thrust it under the pillows of his bed. Th

  e letter was not there! He searched in his pockets, and in every

  possible nook and cranny, but could still fi nd no trace of the missing letter. His heart beat violently with cold dread. Had spies overheard his conversation with

  the mysterious messenger? Had the letter been stolen and delivered to the Caliph?

  A New Guest

  while he was thus engaged, Mu’ayyid al-Din suddenly heard a violent

  knock at the outer door. Th

  e Chamberlain arrived to inform him that Sahban

  and a companion wished to pay him a visit. Mu’ayyid al-Din breathed a sigh of

  relief. At last, Sahban! He wondered who his companion might be this time. A

  few moments later, a smiling Sahban entered and greeted the Minister eff usively.

  Th

  en he slowly moved aside and solemnly presented his guest, a tall man of noble

  bearing whose head and face were tightly wrapped in a veil. Only his eyes and

  the bridge of his nose remained uncovered and Mu’ayyid al-Din could see that

  his skin was dark like that of an Abyssinian slave. Th

  e majestic visitor crossed the

  room slowly as Sahban stood by in respectful silence. Mu’ayyid al-Din wondered

  at this ceremony. “Who is this guest, Sahban?” he whispered.

  “You shall know presently, my
Lord,” Sahban replied carefully under his

  breath. He then rushed forward to seat the visitor on a large chair in the center of the chamber and begged him to remove his veil, to which the man graciously

  consented. Mu’ayyid al-Din watched him closely as he unwrapped the silken

  cloth and his heart jumped in his chest the moment he saw the naked face glow-

  ing in the lamplight. “My Lord Imam!” he cried, “Imam Ahmad! How have you

  accomplished this feat, Sahban?” and he fell upon the thin brown hand to kiss it.

  Sahban laughed and said, “It was your own wish that brought him here.”

  “Woe unto you!” Mu’ayyid al-Din cried. “Did I ask you to abduct his Excel-

  lency and bring him here? How did you accomplish it? He is a prisoner, his pal-

  ace surrounded by guards and spies. Indeed, Sahban, you are an extraordinary

  fellow!”

  “You did not ask me to bring him to you simply because you did not think

  me capable of it! Aft er our conversation of yesterday, I supposed that you would like to see him and to personally assure yourself of his good will.”

  

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

  “Of course, of course,” Mu’ayyid al-Din murmured in bewilderment. “And

  yet I would not, in fact, have believed it to be within your power. By God, you are a brave and intrepid fellow—though you lack patience and foresight,” he added

  wryly.

  “What I lack, my Lord, your own deep wisdom and craft completes.”

  Mu’ayyid al-Din ignored this pointed compliment and gave his undivided

  attention to his royal guest, for the Imam Ahmad was uncle of the Caliph and son of his grandfather, Al-Zahir, by an Abyssinian slave. He had by this time reached middle-age and his demeanor was serene and stately, as becomes a great prince

  in his later years. Mu’ayyid al-Din solemnly and respectfully seated himself on a pillow at the Imam’s feet and proceeded to welcome him. Sahban, too, drew close

  and began to speak. “My Lord, I am a hasty man who loves neither prolixity nor

  procrastination, and indecision is abhorrent to me. Yesterday, your confi dence

  in his Excellency Imam Ahmad pleased me greatly. Our opinions of him are in

  perfect accord; proof, in itself, of excellent judgment. Here, then, is the concerned party—I have not yet spoken to him of our project, but I have extracted him from his prison.”