Tree of Pearls, Queen of Egypt Read online

  In response to this question, Rukn al-Din looked about him as though fear-

  ful of being overheard. Taking note of this gesture, she immediately dismissed

  the servants, keeping only Shwaykar close by. She then signaled to Rukn al-Din

  to approach. “What news, young Prince?” she repeated. “Speak, and have no fear

  of my dear Shwaykar. Indeed, her presence at this interview is fortunate, for she has long been an admirer of your courage and gallantry. Speak! What news?”

  Shwaykar wondered at this odd pleasantry on her mistress’s part, but she

  remained silent and gravely waited to hear the Prince’s message. He, on the other hand, turned to gaze curiously upon her. He had heard tell of her wonderful

  voice, which was famous throughout the palace. He now discovered her to be

  exceedingly comely, with great limpid eyes in which intelligence and charm were

  perfectly united. He promptly turned back to Tree of Pearls. “I bear news of great importance which I know not whether it shall please my Lady to hear.”

  Tree of Pearls started at this, and her eyes bored into him. “Speak then! Tell

  me your news, and fear not my reaction, for I have ceased to expect any good of

  this world!”

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  “It is this: Giyath al-Din Turan Shah, the Exalted King, son of our Lord the

  Good King, met his end this very morning. My Lord Prince ‘Izz al-Din Aybak

  sent me to you with this news ahead of the time when he shall arrive here in person on the morrow. He trusted no one but myself to deliver the message, and he

  charged me to place this sealed note into your hands.” And with that, he took a

  small folded paper out of his pocket and, bowing deeply, off ered it to her.

  Tree of Pearls’s heart leapt at this news, but she remained coldly impassive,

  her face a lovely mask chiseled in stone. She unfolded the note and began to read.

  I hasten to inform you of these good tidings. Th

  e spoilt child has departed this world.

  Prince Rukn al-Din Baybars al-Bunduqari, the bearer of this letter, will describe to you the details of his death, in which the hand of this selfsame Prince bears the greatest glory and for which he deserves your notice. I have further news, of which I will inform you in person upon my arrival in Cairo tomorrow, God willing.

  She slowly raised her pale face. “Are you absolutely sure that the Exalted

  King has been slain?”

  “Yes my Lady.”

  “Was he taken by stealth?”

  “He was openly and publicly dispatched.”

  “And who is responsible for this?”

  “It was we who slew him. He was a tyrant, a fi ckle and reckless child. He

  insulted and provoked us incessantly, we the Bahri Mamluks, his father’s own.

  He disdained us, though we are the Bearers of the Sword and Defenders of the

  State: we who repelled the Franks from these lands. In his rashness, he imagined that he might continue thus unopposed, and that we were nothing but vile insects to be crushed underfoot. We patiently bore his tyranny, nonetheless, until we

  heard of the displeasure of our Lady Tree of Pearls, mother of the Good King’s

  son. So we waited and plotted against him until the moment was propitious.

  Th

  is very morning he was holding court amongst his entourage, princes, Kurds,

  and partisans, his chief offi

  cers arrayed before him carrying golden scepters, his

  whole manner proclaiming his insolence, as though he were like to say, ‘I am

  your Sultan, whether it please you or not!’

  “We waited until he had dismissed his party. Th

  e table was laid for his meal

  and he took his place at it as usual. Th

  en a group of us approached him with our

  swords drawn and struck off the fi ngers of his right hand. Terrifi ed, he rose and

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  fl ed into the Wooden Tower, sealing the door behind him. When we fi red on the

  tower, he fl ed yet again and threw himself into the sea, swimming for dear life.

  Th

  e archers assailed him from all directions, and he cried out, ‘Take your king-

  dom and give me leave to return to the fort of Kifa!’ but none came to his aid.

  Th

  us was he slain, by fi re, water, and sword! We dragged his corpse from the sea

  and left it to rot on the shore. May he never know a true grave!”

  An Amorous Interlude

  though tree of pearls remained perfectly still during this account of the

  death of Giyath al-Din, her eyes betrayed the deepest interest. “Turan Shah is

  then truly dead!” she whispered when Rukn al-Din had fi nished speaking. “God

  have mercy on his soul. He erred in his judgment. He was unworthy of the king-

  ship that we bestowed upon him, and the king who is incapable of ruling must

  needs be overthrown!” She cast a glance at Rukn al-Din, adding, “And have you

  any other news, Prince?”

  “Verily I do, but my Lord Prince ‘Izz al-Din Aybak will himself inform you

  of it tomorrow morning, my Lady.”

  “Perhaps, then, it is of the utmost importance, this news he brings?”

  Smiling, Rukn al-Din replied, “It is so.”

  Tree of Pearls guessed his meaning, but she changed the subject and said,

  “You have mentioned nothing of the brave offi

  cers who dispatched the Exalted

  King. Are you perchance one of them?”

  “I am, my Lady, though I am but the lowest in rank, and was merely com-

  manded to action by my Lord ‘Izz al-Din,” he replied.

  Tree of Pearls was well pleased with this modesty. “Do you then shy away

  from this act, as though you considered it a crime? Indeed, it is a great deed,

  with which you should be well satisfi ed. You have saved our lands from ruin,

  for this King was unworthy of his title. Fear not! ‘Izz al-Din has informed me of your bravery and I myself have long marked your courage and daring. I doubt

  not that a great future lies before you, and if my speculation be well placed, I hereby pledge to bestow upon you my most precious possession.” Having made

  this speech, she glanced at Shwaykar and laughed. Shwaykar guessed her mean-

  ing and was overcome by shyness, for she had never yet given her heart to a soul.

  Her whole world revolved around the pleasure of her mistress. She blushed and

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  bowed her head, and suddenly regretted her uncovered face. She was not, how-

  ever, in the habit of veiling in the presence of princes.

  As for Rukn al-Din Baybars, he was well pleased with Tree of Pearls’s com-

  pliments. Th

  ough greatly taken with Shwaykar’s beauty, he would never have

  imagined that she might one day be his, and he was uncertain how to respond

  to Tree of Pearls’s veiled conditions for this unexpected prize. Finally, he replied,

  “I thank my Lady for the kind words she has deigned to bestow on her slave and

  servitor, and I hope one day to prove worthy of her confi dence. I am at all times hostage to her least command and my very life is her ransom.” Tree of Pearls

  rejoiced at this declaration, for she was desirous of winning Rukn al-Din to her cause and anxious to employ his cool and unswerving courage for her own ends.

  Shwaykar, too, was moved by the Prince’s words. She felt a new and exquisite sensation, the likes of which she had never before experienced. Her eyes refl ected her inner agitation and her heart sk
ipped in the most curious manner, but she kept

  her head bowed and said nothing.

  Tree of Pearls was well satisfi ed with the success of her plot, for it was she

  herself who had incited the Mamluks to slay Turan Shah. Had it not been for her

  direct command, they would never have dared such an undertaking. Her par-

  amour, Prince ‘Izz al-Din Aybak, had been her accomplice in this. It was he who

  had instigated them to rebellion, and Rukn al-Din Babyars had been in the fore-

  front of the revolt. Many a time, Tree of Pearls had heard ‘Izz al-Din recount his courage and his fealty to their cause. By promising Shwaykar to him she hoped

  to redouble the young Prince’s loyalty to her person and her ambitions. “When,

  then, can we expect Prince ‘Izz al-Din’s arrival?” she resumed.

  “I believe he will arrive tomorrow morning with the princes and offi

  cers of

  the army. Th

  e news he brings shall eff ect a great change in the aff airs of our state,

  but Prince ‘Izz al-Din has reserved the bearing of these good tidings as his own prerogative, he being our lord and master.”

  Tree of Pearls smiled as she rose from her couch. “I congratulate you on the

  great prize you have won, Rukn al-Din,” she said as she looked at Shwaykar, “and I pray that you will indeed fulfi ll my hopes of you.”

  Rukn al-Din understood that she dismissed him with these words. He

  turned to depart, fi rst casting a farewell glance at Shwaykar, who dared not look up to meet it, but the two hearts had met and taken stock of each other—a simple exchange when natures be mutually inclined. Bowing deeply, he now took his

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  leave and immediately returned to the tower in the Citadel that he occupied with a number of his fellow Mamluk offi

  cers.

  ‘Izz al-Din Aybak

  after rukn al-din’s departure, Tree of Pearls rose and gathered the long

  train of her robes behind her. Shwaykar rose in turn to await her mistress’s command. Tree of Pearls was not entirely easy in her mind as to whether she had done well by her handmaiden in pledging her to Rukn al-Din. She wished to ascertain

  Shwaykar’s opinion on the matter and sound the inclinations of her heart, and

  so she approached the subject directly. “I hope you are pleased with your suitor, Shwaykar?”

  Blushing deeply, Shwaykar raised her eyes to meet those of her mistress and

  saw that her expression was full of teasing aff ection. She struggled to overcome her shyness, and with some eff ort fi nally brought herself to off er a hesitant smile in reply. “It seems that my Lady has grown weary of my company.”

  “What nonsense, child! I only wish to secure your future, and a woman with

  your beauty, education, and accomplishments must needs make a fi t match. I am

  certain that this brave young man is a gem amongst his peers and has, moreover,

  a brilliant career before him. If I am wrong in this, and he is not the man that I imagine him to be, I will never give you to him in marriage. Fear not, Shwaykar, for I am as jealous of your interests as though they were those of my own daughter. I am confi dent that you know this to be the truth. And now I shall retire, for I am quite fatigued by the day’s events.”

  “And yet you are surely satisfi ed with this conclusion, my Lady? Th

  e man

  who was the cause of all our troubles has met his end, and government shall now

  resume its proper course. Who shall now take up the reins of power, I wonder? I

  trust we shall no longer be forced to submit to the House of Ayyub. It seems that the days of this dynasty are well past.”

  “Perhaps you are right, Shwaykar,” she smiled. “‘Izz al-Din Aybak shall cer-

  tainly enlighten us on the subject when he arrives tomorrow.” She then bade her

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  goodnight, and Shwaykar kissed her mistress’s hand while Tree of Pearls placed

  an aff ectionate kiss in return on her handmaiden’s brow.

  As soon as Shwaykar had quit her, she hurried through a secret door in the

  Great Hall that led directly to her chambers. Th

  e hour had struck midnight and

  the servants had long since lit her splendid apartments, which were hung with

  heavy tapestries of silk brocade richly woven with verses of poetry, ornamental

  designs, and wonderful martial and pastoral scenes of most brilliant and varied

  color. She threw herself onto her bed and surrendered to her turbulent thoughts.

  “Turan Shah is slain—may God resurrect him not!—and this by the hand of my

  own ‘Izz al-Din.” She sighed deeply as she pronounced his name. “He is my love,

  but he is secretive and cunning, and I yet doubt his loyalty. So it is with men, ever untrustworthy! And what does it matter?” she shrugged, “let him act as he

  pleases! Has he not served me well in this aff air? All that now remains is for the kingdom to be delivered once again into my hands. ‘Izz al-Din has promised me

  this! I wonder, then, if he will honor his pledge. I shall be the fi rst Queen in the history of our Empire, and I shall reward him well if he serves me faithfully.”

  She spent a good part of the night thus reveling in her plots and fancies.

  When fi nally she slept, she dreamt that she had been made Queen and gripped

  the royal scepter fi rmly in her hands. Tree of Pearls desired dominion, no matter the cost. Th

  is appetite for power had possessed her upon the birth of Al-Salih’s

  son, Khalil, for she had dared to hope that he would one day be the means through which her ambitions might be fulfi lled. Would he not be the future Sultan and

  she his Regent? But the boy had died in his infancy, and Tree of Pearls’s budding hopes with him.

  Th

  e next morning, a eunuch entered to announce her eagerly awaited visi-

  tor. “Prince ‘Izz al-Din Aybak awaits your Ladyship in the Great Hall.” Tree of

  Pearls rose and dressed. On this morning, she took great care with her toilette

  in order to appear as magnifi cent as possible before her lover. (If this is the way of all women without exception, then what of those few who attach momentous

  political ambition to their love-aff airs?) She wore a dark-hued gown of striped silk and wove her luxurious hair into a few soft plaits, leaving two of these to frame her fi ne, oval face. On her head she knotted a scarf embroidered with silver and gold thread and adorned with precious stones that hung glittering on her

  brow, and left its long train to trail freely down her back. Around her slender throat she wore two chains, one of pearls and one of carnelian, and she wound a

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  heavy belt of beaten gold around her waist and hips. Th

  ough Tree of Pearls was on

  the threshold of middle-age, the waters of youth still coursed through her veins.

  Her eyes still shot their spells at men’s hearts and fi lled them, not with a sense of yielding feminine charm and grace like Shwaykar, but rather with a feeling of awe and dark, discordant passion.

  ‘Izz al-Din Aybak keenly felt the might of this woman and her dominion over

  his heart. His love was born of respect and fear rather than tender longing. Her rank and infl uence in Al-Salih’s household had fanned the fl ames of his desire to possess her. Th

  us it had come to pass that he had sought her favor, and she had

  freely bestowed it. Th

  e liaison suited Tree of Pearls, for she well knew the impos-

  sibility of pursuing her vast ambitions unaided. She was, aft er all, a woman, and could never hope to command an army.
She saw the benefi t that might accrue to

  her in the promotion of ‘Izz al-Din to the rank of Commander-in-Chief of the

  Mamluk princes, and she had aided him in this suit during Al-Salih’s reign. He

  was, of course, deeply grateful for this boon. When the chance to serve her by

  assassinating Turan Shah arose, he had not let it slip through his fi ngers, though he had also most certainly thereby served his own interests.

  He had arrived at the palace that morning on his steed with a small company

  of offi

  cers and horsemen, and had rested only briefl y from his long journey before

  hastening to the Great Hall for he keenly looked forward to the pleasure of receiving the elaborate expressions of praise and abundant gratitude that were sure to pour forth from his lady’s lips.

  Good Tidings

  he was not kept waiting for long. Th

  e eunuch appeared and announced

  his mistress, and ‘Izz al-Din rose to greet her. Tree of Pearls now stood before him, and ‘Izz al-Din fell upon her hands as though to kiss them. She started and drew back from him in a graceful gesture of modesty. He motioned to her to take her

  seat upon the couch and seated himself by her side. She bade the servant to withdraw, and once alone with the Prince, she spoke. “Welcome, ‘Izz al-Din. We have

  been informed of your bravery in ridding the country of that feckless child. May God reward you. You have done a great service to the Community of Muslims.”

  “I undertook this deed to serve my heart’s sovereign, Tree of Pearls,” he fer-

  vently replied.

  His words aff ected her greatly—she, who loved him well—but they also

  rekindled her dormant suspicions. “I fully acknowledge this favor, ‘Izz al-Din. It is not the fi rst time that you have proved the sincerity of your aff ection, and I am but the prisoner of your grace.”

  “Th

  e merest token of your approval suffi

  ces me, my Lady,” he replied. “Espe-

  cially now that you shall be enthroned Queen of Muslims!”

  Tree of Pearls fl ushed deeply and feigned astonishment. “Queen of Muslims?

  What can you possibly mean by this?”

  “You are already my Queen and the possessor of my heart, and shall soon

  become Queen of Egypt and Guardian of the State and of Religion.”

  “How has this come to pass?” she demanded. “I beg you to explain yourself.”