Barry Unsworth - The Ruby In Her Navel

The King returned from Salerno and we were finally able to offer him the spectacle of the Anatolian dancers. This was done in proper form by Stefanos through the Office of the Seneschal. The Dance of the Belly, the first time ever in the King's domain – so we gave it out; we said nothing about their wanderings in southern Italy, letting it be generally inferred that they had been wafted, by means more or less magical, from the Taurus Mountains.

The royal summon came sooner than we had expected. King Roger was to entertain a company of notables from Germany, among them Otto of Zahringen and his son Frederick, whose active help he was eager to obtain in fomenting revolt against Conrad Hohenstaufen. His widowed daughter-in-law, Elisabeth of Blois-Champagne, was to join them – it was her last appearance at court before returning to France.

It was late in the afternoon that he sent notice, either on the spur of the moment or because Sir Stephen Fitzherbert, the chamberlain in charge of the kitchens and all matters concerning the seating at table and the serving and the entertainments, whispered in his ear. This service Stephen had sometimes done before and claimed a fee from our Diwan – or a gift, as it was called, to remove the notion of payment. Naturally he would expect a gift on this occasion too, since whether or not it had been his doing no one could say.

There was very little time; they had to change into their new clothes immediately. The King would dine early, as his habit was: often, after taking leave of his guests, he would go on working far into the night, attended only by his notary, Giovanni dei Segni, one of the very few who enjoyed his whole trust. While he was dining we would wait in an adjoining anteroom. When we were sent for I would lead them into the Great Hall, make my bow to the assembled company, then return to the anteroom and await them – there was no place for me in the hall; I was neither guest nor performer.

It only remained for me to give them instructions as how they were to bear themselves in the King's presence. It was the first time I had seen them since Nesrin had made us laugh with her talk of going into the bushes. I was as aware as ever of her presence there among them, and strangely glad for it. But I took care to address the group as a whole, without letting my eyes rest too long on anyone. They were to follow me in file, the three women then the two men. The dancing space would be lit by torches against the wall, they would see it there before them. I would make my bow and leave. They would form a line facing the King and his guests, and they would all bow together, bending the knee and holding the body low.

Fearing they might not have understood my words, I gave them a demonstration, not thinking, in my eagerness to have everything done properly and in order, that I might look ridiculous, inclining my body in this fashion, all alone there and without an immediate reason. "Keep this bow and hold yourselves still while you count to ten. Count slowly.

One – two – three – four. When you come to ten, straighten up. Try to do it so that you all straighten up together. Ozgur and Temel will then seat themselves with their backs to the wall. They will start playing and so the dancing will begin."

There was a prolonged silence among them after these words. They had not followed their usual practice of averting the gaze while I spoke, but watched my movements closely as I bowed and counted and straightened up.

Now they were regarding me with a certain fixity of expression which I took at first to mean they had not understood. I was supposing with some weariness that I would have to go through it all again, when I realised that the look was not one of failure to understand but of wary curiosity: they were regarding me as one might regard a creature of unusual shape encountered in an unlikely place.

This was disconcerting and made it difficult to know what to say next. I essayed a smile. Of course, they were not civilised people, the practice of bowing would seem strange to them. "Time is short," I said. "Perhaps we could practise it a little?"

A hand went up and it was hers. I was not deceived for a moment by the expression of serious enquiry on her face, not for a moment… She looked beautiful in her new bodice and skirt with the white sash round her middle. Her black hair was untied, it lay loose to her shoulders. I noticed now for the first time that it was not quite straight but had a curl or wave in it which I supposed must be natural. But perhaps not, perhaps she had made it with curling tongs. I had a sudden sense of her life as it might be in private, when she was alone. And for a moment she seemed indeed alone, there was no one else there, we were looking across an empty space at each other. I felt my smile faltering. "What is it?" I asked.

"They hear the counting, they will laugh."

It seemed to me that she spoke the Greek words with a better accent now, and more easily. But it was clear that the spirit of mockery was not changed in her. "You must count inside your heads," I said, tapping my own head with a forefinger to drive the point home.

But this was a mistake on my part because Temel now repeated the gesture, but in a more rapid and violent way and he was followed in this by Ozgur. They were signalling that they thought me mad, and this angered me because they were savages and had no idea of polite behaviour, and made this ignorance into a virtue. "Well, whether you like it or not," I said, "if you want his Royal Majesty's favour, you will have to make your bow and do your count. Otherwise you will disgrace yourselves and me."

At this they fell to talking among themselves, all but Nesrin, who did not join in but stood apart from them. I hoped this might be a sign of sympathy with me but could not be sure – I was not sure of anything about her except that she was beautiful.

There was no time now for any more discussion; we had to set off immediately in order to be in attendance when the call came. We were escorted to the royal apartments by two household guards in their tall black hats and silver braid. As they clattered and jingled along beside us I wondered how I could ever have wanted to become one of them. Higher things awaited me now.

When we were esconced in the antechamber, not much more was said among us and I took this to mean they had agreed among themselves to follow my instructions. The call came from one of Fitzherbert's stewards, who stood at the door and beckoned. I followed him, and the Anatolians followed me in the order I had prescribed. We reached the dancing space and I stepped forward to make my bow. I had a confused sense of the spectators seated close to me, lower down in the hall, and of the King at the high table with his guests. It was the same confusion I always felt in his presence, as if I had come suddenly from some dusky place into a fullness of light that bewildered my eyes and prevented me from seeing him clearly. There was the gleam that lay on the circlet of gold over his brows and on the gold brocade at the shoulders of his robe – more than this radiance I did not see. I bent my knees and inclined my body low and began my count.

The Anatolians were at my back and ready to bow in their turn, or so I thought. But before I was half-way through my counting I heard voices and laughter behind me: they were calling to one another in their own tongue, just as they had on the night when I first saw them, just as if these courtiers before them now were the same gaping boors that had surrounded them then! I heard the clatter of the women's shoes as they shook them off on to the stone floor, then the quick tapping of the drum and the first plaintive strains of the long-necked dulcimer. They had not formed a line, they had not bowed, they had not counted. In the royal presence they had shown no slightest mark of deference or respect!