Tree of Pearls, Queen of Egypt Read online

  Al-Jazira. Many a king of old had made it his pleasure-garden. It was Al-Salih

  who moved his royal seat there from the Citadel, where his predecessors had

  resided and from whence they had ruled. On this island he built a magnifi cent

  fortress that became known as the Fortress of the Measure, in reference to the

  ancient Nilometer nearby. It was also known as the Garden Fort or the Salihiyya

  Fort. Numerous palaces, mosques, and naval workshops had formerly existed

  on the site, and it was home to the famous pavilion that the Fatimid Sultan, Al-

  ’Amir bi Ahkamillah, had built for his concubine. Th

  e Good King demolished all

  these structures and raised the Fortress in their place, expending a vast fortune in the process. Th

  e palaces and mosques that he caused to be raised rested upon

  great columns and arches fashioned from the venerable granite and marble taken

  from the ancient ruins surrounding the city. He planted orchards with fl owering trees of all kinds, and he erected sixty towers for his armories and for grain and sundry foodstuff s against the possibility of a Frankish siege, for the Franks were intent on invading Egypt in those days. So lavish was he in constructing this

  fortress that each one of its stones was said to be worth a whole dinar. Th

  e King

  himself had supervised its construction, and when it was completed he moved

  his womenfolk and his slaves there, as well as his Mamluk horsemen, their num-

  ber reaching one thousand hardy warriors. Finally, outside the walls he built a

  vast zoological garden in which he gathered all sorts of savage beasts—lions, for instance, and tigers.

  Tree of Pearls was Al-Salih’s favorite concubine, and when she gave birth

  to a son, the King drew her even further into his confi dence. Being a woman

  of surpassing astuteness and intelligence, she acquired great infl uence over the King and so, when he was killed in Mansura in 1249, she carefully concealed

  his death from the populace and ruled in his stead, signing decrees and mili-

  tary commissions in his name, for the war against the Crusaders still raged. Her secret she confi ded to none but the leading princes and commanders of the army.

  ‘Izz al-Din Aybak the Turk was her most particular confi dant, for there was love between them.

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  Upon discovering the death of their King, the great princes commanded that

  his son, Ghiyath al-Din, be conveyed to Cairo from the Fort of Kifa, and they

  appointed him King and pressed on in their battle against the Crusaders.

  Tree of Pearls’s heart was heavy with secrets, and on this moonlit evening in

  particular, her apprehensions crowded in upon her. In spite of her confi dence in Shwaykar, she could not bring herself to reveal her thoughts to the girl, though she derived great pleasure and comfort from her company. Shwaykar was exceedingly comely and possessed of a rich, melodious voice, and was moreover a mas-

  terful lute-player. When Tree of Pearls felt the sharp stab of anxiety assail her as she did now, she would summon the girl to her side, the better to be soothed by

  her presence and charmed by her voice.

  Tree of Pearls was dressed in a simple garment and wrapped in a silk shawl.

  She sat gazing abstractedly at the Nile, while all around, nature lay perfectly still.

  Th

  e breeze had died down but for a few puff s that now and again stirred up her

  long dark hair, which she had gathered into an insouciant mass that tumbled

  luxuriously around her shoulders. She was not a woman like other woman. She

  had both the courage and the ambition of the greatest of men. If once she resolved on a course of action, she paid not the slightest heed to any obstacles placed in her path. She knew well how to conquer, by any and all means necessary.

  Her handmaiden Shwaykar was, like her mistress, of Turkish origin, but still

  in the fl ower of youth. Tree of Pearls loved her dearly. She was the eager repository of her mistress’s little secrets, for the great lady trusted her in spite of the native cunning that made her loath to reveal her thoughts to a living soul. It was for this cunning that the Mamluk princes feared and respected Tree of Pearls.

  She had conquered their hearts with her grace and she now commanded their

  awe and admiration with her indomitable will.

  Shwaykar strummed her lute and sang her mistress’s favorite songs while

  Tree of Pearls sat wrapped in her thoughts, gazing at the Nile which the moon’s

  rays, glancing across its surface, had given the appearance of molten silver.

  Indeed, if not for the shivering ripples that broke across its waters from time to time, one would have imagined the river to be formed of a single pure sheet of

  the precious metal, like a massive mirror sparkling in the night (for in those days, mirrors were craft ed from silver, and not from glass as is the custom today).

  She turned her eyes to the opposite bank of the river at Giza, where the rows

  of tall palm trees reaching up to the heavens assumed the appearance of phantom

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  maidens bearing parasols as they gracefully peered over the water’s edge and

  gazed in wonder at the fl owing current of the great river. Th

  e shadows of the

  palms were refl ected in the water. Th

  ere, they trembled and undulated, as though

  the water-maidens had now gone in to bathe, their lithe bodies shivering from

  cold or from vestal modesty. Th

  e Pyramids of Giza loomed large behind the palm

  groves like mighty mountains victorious over the accidents of fate.

  Noting her mistress’s drawn, fretful expression and the heavy sighs that

  from time to time escaped her, Shwaykar fi nally cast her oud aside. She knelt

  before her mistress and kissed her icy hands. “What is it that disquiets you, my Lady?” she entreated. “Do you no longer trust in me, though I have ever been

  the repository of your secrets and have no concern in this world other than your well-being?”

  Tree of Pearls smiled wanly and reached out to stroke the girl’s hair and face,

  much as an enamored youth will tenderly caress his beloved. She was reluctant

  to confi de her fears to the dear, innocent child. She wrongly supposed Shwaykar to be entirely ignorant of the momentous matters that troubled her, this being

  one of the favorite illusions cherished by the possessors of secrets. So does the lover take pleasure in concealing his passion, though it may well be the talk of the neighbors from morning till night. Nothing remains safe from people’s watchful eyes, though they be constrained to hold their tongues. Household servants,

  especially, are all-seeing and knowing, the sole occupation of these folk being to discover, dissect, and discuss the secrets of their masters and to embellish and embroider the truth of a matter.

  Shwaykar was aware of the cause of her mistress’s cares. She feigned igno-

  rance, however, and begged Tree of Pearls to unburden her mind.

  “I conceal nothing from you, as you know, but the subject that fi lls my

  thoughts cannot be of any great importance to you.”

  “I beg not your confi dence because the matter may be of importance to me

  personally. I only wish to relieve the burden that weighs upon you and to soothe your heart by drawing out your complaint.”

  At this, Tree of Pearls laughed tenderly. “It would seem, child, that you have

  long dealt with secrets and the pleasures of disclosure.”

  “I have no secrets either to hide or disclose, my Lady,” she shyly replied, “and any such store wo
uld most certainly be beneath your notice. But I know this to be true of other people—am I then mistaken?”

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  “Indeed no. You speak the truth. But leave this subject for the time being and

  give us the rapture of your sweet song.”

  Shwaykar did not consider this refusal fi nal, for she had read otherwise in

  her mistress’s eyes, and eyes are ever truer than tongues. “I am at your service, my Lady.”

  Tree of Pearls truly desired that her handmaiden should further provoke her

  to speech, and so she fretfully replied, “What then do you imagine to be the cause of my unease?”

  “How might I know such a thing?” Shwaykar was quick to reply. “I know

  nothing of your aff airs, other than that which can only inspire delight and pride.

  Even in matters of the heart, I know that you have attained a rank to which no

  other woman may lay claim. All our noble princes court your pleasure and count

  your notice of them a great boon. A single glance of favor from you is enough to win the heart of any of them, though you may dispense with them all, due to your pride of place in the heart of the greatest of princes, my Lord ‘Izz al-Din Aybak, who ever longs for a sign of your special esteem.”

  Th

  e blood rushed to Tree of Pearls’s cheeks at the sound of this name. “Th

  at

  is not a matter that merits the concern of one such as I, Shwaykar, but rather it is a subject in which a young maiden like you may take pleasure.”

  Like many at court, Shwaykar was certain of the ties of love that bound her

  mistress to ‘Izz al-Din Aybak, Commander in Chief of the Mamluk princes. She

  changed the subject, however, and said, “Forgive my presumption and pardon my

  error, my Lady. Perhaps you are preoccupied with aff airs of state since the death of his Highness the Good King, may God rest his soul.”

  “You have guessed correctly, Shwaykar. Th

  e Franks continue to threaten us

  in Mansura and Farskur, and I fear the tides of war may turn against us.”

  “But the news that reaches us is good, is it not? Did not a great bird come to us from afar with omens of success? Did not a messenger thereaft er alight with news of our soldiers’ victory over the French, and recount how they had dispatched

  thirty thousand of their men, captured their king, Louis, and imprisoned him in

  the mighty fortress of Ibn Luqman? Did not yet another messenger come, bear-

  ing the cloak of the King of the Franks himself, a red velvet cloak trimmed with pale grey fur, and his golden crown, at which the city of Cairo bedecked itself in joyous ornament the likes of which has never been seen? Do you then put no faith in these tidings, my Lady?”

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  “I have no doubt but that they are true.”

  “Th

  en, what is it that disturbs you so?”

  Tree of Pearls sighed and shook her head anxiously, “You have constrained

  me to speak, Shwaykar, and I shall share a small part of my troubles with you.

  I fear not the Franks, for our armies are valiant and unyielding, not least those Turks for whom our Sovereign the Good King built this fortress. Th

  eir courage

  has been well proven in these wars. No, it is dissension in the ranks of the army that I fear, a deadly discord brought forth by the foolish actions of Giyath al-Din, the Exalted King.”

  “Does my Lady permit me to speak, though I may know nothing of politics

  or of statecraft ? I fear that you have made a grave mistake in bringing this Sultan from the fortress of Kifa and giving him the reins of power, while there are amongst our own princes many much worthier than he.”

  “And yet the people would have a scion of the ruling house of Ayyub as their

  king. If it were not for this, or if only Giyath al-Din were a prudent ruler, all would be well. But he is a mere youth: ignorant, thoughtless, and a drunkard, no less. If once he is intoxicated, he acts in a manner unbefi tting even a child. I have heard that he sets rows of lit candles in front of him at night, and taking up his sword, cuts them down one aft er the other, crying all the while ‘this is how I shall deal with the Bahri Mamluks!’—meaning, of course, our own Turkish Mamluks. Since

  he arrived amongst us—and that was a mere two months ago—he openly favors

  his Kurdish troops over our Turks, declaring this aloud in his assemblies for all to hear, though our victories against the Franks have been won thanks to the valor

  of our brave Turkish champions, ‘Izz al-Din Aybak, Rukn al-Din Baybars, Sayf

  al-Din Qutuz, and their peers. I fear that this controversy will only deepen, allowing our enemies to take advantage of this strife and attack us once again.” Tree of Pearls fell silent and bowed her head in thought. Th

  en she took a deep breath

  and whispered, “But I have devised a plan that, if successful, shall save us from destruction!” She rose abruptly and, turning her back, fell silent once again.

  Shwaykar understood by this gesture that her mistress wished to terminate

  the conversation, and so she took up her oud and began to strum it soft ly. Sud-

  denly, she perceived in the distance the sound of movement on the waters. Her

  eyes scanned the moonlit river and she made out a large, shadowy shape sail-

  ing towards them from the north. “Look here, my Lady,” she cried. “A vessel

  approaches! Surely its advent at this late hour bespeaks some serious matter.”

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  Tree of Pearls turned towards the approaching vessel. She recognized it

  immediately. “It is ‘Izz al-Din’s craft !” she exclaimed. “I wonder what news he brings.” She hurried towards the harbor, pulling her shawl tight about her, while Shwaykar trailed behind eagerly.

  Th

  e vast garden surrounding the Fortress contained a small harbor at which

  vessels had formerly docked back in the days when the garden itself had been

  a shipyard. A short path ran between this harbor and the castle walls. Excite-

  ment and curiosity had sent Tree of Pearls hurrying down to the river’s edge to

  meet the vessel that was just now docking, but suddenly remembering herself she

  stopped short, turned about, and soberly proceeded to the Great Hall in which

  Al-Salih himself had been accustomed to receive delegations, princes, and min-

  isters in the days of his glory.

  Rukn al-Din Baybars

  the great hall, to whose elegance and ornament the Good King had devoted

  his greatest energy, was one of the most gorgeous in the palace. It was a vast chamber raised on marble columns, its ceiling decorated with frescos and engravings

  in the Qurnus style and its walls of colored marble covered in exquisite gold-leaf calligraphy. Th

  e entire eff ect was designed to arrest the eye and delight the soul.

  Tree of Pearls had not entered the Hall since Al-Salih’s death over two months

  past, but she now had her own reasons for taking her place there to await ‘Izz al-Din’s messenger. She therefore commanded the palace eunuchs to make it ready.

  Noting her mistress’s agitation, Shwaykar suddenly stopped at the doors and

  said, “I beg your leave to withdraw, my Lady.”

  “Whither to, my dear?” Tree of Pearls replied in surprise.

  “To wherever you command me to go, for I fear that my presence may lie

  heavy on you.”

  Tree of Pearls signaled to her to follow. “Come, Shwaykar, I will keep no

  secrets from you.” She arranged herself upon a magnifi cent couch of solid gold

  that stood on a large dais occupying the center of the room. It was from this very spot that
Al-Salih had presided over his subjects. She motioned to Shwaykar to

  take the gilt chair next to her. Th

  e Great Hall was lit by candles that illuminated

  its gorgeous engravings. As Tree of Pearls reclined on the royal couch, Shwaykar gazed at her mistress and suddenly let out a peal of musical laughter that provoked Tree of Pearls to inquire archly as to the cause of it.

  “My Lady, I rejoice to see you seated upon this couch, and I take it as a good

  omen. Indeed, it suits you well.”

  Tree of Pearls’s heart trembled at this propitious augury, for the truth was that she desired dominion with all her soul, being well worthy of it. She said nothing, however, and summoning the palace Steward, she ordered him to make haste to

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  the harbor and fetch any message that the newly arrived vessel might bear. Her

  immobile and stern features did not in the least betray the fi res of anxiety burning within her. Shwaykar attempted to engage her in conversation about the priceless ornaments that graced the Hall and the extravagant sums that Al-Salih had

  expended on its construction, and Tree of Pearls in turn feigned interest in the subject, recounting to Shwaykar various anecdotes about the King’s great care and exactitude in erecting the building. While they were thus engaged, Tree of Pearls heard the distant trumpet blast that heralded the vessel’s arrival. Her heart pounded anew and Shwaykar noticed the sudden tremor of uneasiness that passed over her

  mistress’s face. Shortly thereaft er, a page entered and solemnly announced Prince Rukn al-Din Baybars. “Let him enter,” Tree of Pearls commandingly replied.

  A tall young man swept into the hall. He removed the woolen cloak in which

  he was wrapped from head to foot, to reveal a handsome form and a radiant face

  whose mien combined the poise of manly maturity and the freshness of youth. He

  was just twenty-three years old at the time of which we speak, and he was helmeted and dressed in a full coat of mail, as though still in the battlefi eld from whence he had come. As soon as he entered, he greeted Tree of Pearls with unusual ceremony.

  She immediately guessed at the reasons behind the peculiarity of his address, but she pretended not to notice, and merely said, “What news, Rukn al-Din?”