Barry Unsworth - The Ruby In Her Navel

In short, the Anatolian dancers were a great success, and this it was, I believe, that saved me from the King's displeasure at their failures of courtesy. I had done well in the past with some dwarf jugglers and an Armenian who could lift enormous weights and two Italians from Modena, a man and a woman, who could tell stories without words, only by movement and gesture and changes of face, so that one could understand everything. These had been some of my successes, but they all paled by comparison with this one. Besides, I had not been present at those times, not had this experience of being lifted up and borne along on a warm tide.

Before we could leave the hall, Fitzherbert came down to us – in person now. Not to order my immediate arrest for lese-majesty, but to inform me that by immediate command of the King this company should hold itself in readiness to appear again before him on the following evening.

Fitzherbert, who is haughty and cold in his usual manner, smiled upon me and congratulated me on the finding of such dancers. And in this courtier's smile of his I read the King's pleasure. The coins that had been thrown were gathered up for us and this turned out to be a great advantage, as more were added in the process and it was a heavy purse that lay in my palm by the end.

There was more to come. Orders had been sent through to the kitchen. We were escorted to the lodge that forms part of the gatehouse at the entrance to the inner courtyard, and a table was set up on a trestle in a room there, and before long there came servants with trays of food: roast venison in a juice of grapes and garlic, fish cooked in wine and dressed with sage and parsley, the bread they call gastel, made with brown flour and olive oil and honey. These were dishes from the King's own table! And with them came flagons of raisin wine, as they make it in the eastern parts of the island, wine that was clear to the bottom of the cup and delicate in taste and deceiving in this delicacy, as it mounted quickly to the head.

We feasted together like lords, and afterwards with the wine still passing round, I emptied the purse on the table and shared the coin among them. I made the division in five parts, but it was the women who took charge of the money, making bundles with the scarves they had discarded in the dance.

"This is only the beginning," I said. "You have pleased the King greatly, you have also pleased his very important guests. He will not delay in showing the marks of his favour."

I was exhilarated by the wine and by the success of the evening and my rescue from opprobrium, for which rescue I now felt deeply grateful to these people, altogether forgetting, in the exaltation of my spirits, that it was they who had caused the risk of it in the first place. I decided that it would be fitting to make a speech at this point and got to my feet. I said that this had been a very brilliant and unusual occasion with a good many first times in it, the first time there had been such great applause, the first time anyone had been engaged for the succeeding evening, the first time food and drink had been sent, at least in the years I had been purveyor of pleasures at the Diwan of Control. And from the King's own table! Above all, it was the first time that I had stayed to watch and been included in the applause. The idea of including me might have been in all their minds, but it was Nesrin who had come and taken my hand, so it could be said that it was her doing. I looked at her as I spoke. Her hair was tied back with a red ribbon and the upper part of her stomach, below where the bodice ended, was still uncovered – she had tied the scarf, with its knot of money, round her waist. Under that scarf, I thought, there would be the glittering pebble in her abdomen, temporarily eclipsed. Whatever I noted in her looks came always as a surprise to me, even when I had looked at her only shortly before, it was still surprising, even though familiar.

I am well aware that this is a statement lacking in logic. In this my account I labour to serve truth; logic I leave to the schoolmen. She was smiling at me now and there sprang into my mind the unruly notion of yet another first time, and I stumbled in my discourse, saying I was not sure why they, why she, had wanted me to stay but I was glad that I had done so and would remember this evening for a very long time to come. I could think of nothing further to add to this, but only to thank them, which I did, with a full heart, and I raised my cup and drank to them and wished them luck.

Then Ozgur got to his feet and he smiled and looked at me fully, which I could not remember him doing before, and began speaking in his hesitant and strangely accented Greek. They had all wanted me to stay but it was certainly Nesrin who had taken my hand and she had decided this herself, why he could not tell, it would have to be asked from her. He was only a man, what did he know? There was laughter at this and Nesrin looked aside, but not as one displeased. In any case, Ozgur said, it was something only she among them could have done. But they all felt glad I had stayed and they thanked me for bringing them here and making their fortunes and they would never forget me.

Still on his feet, he glanced around him and said some words in a low tone, and the others rose and they all moved from the table and formed a line before me and they bowed all together as I had shown them how to do and they began counting, but aloud and in their own language. They did it exactly, perfectly, the bowing and the counting and the straightening up. And every one of their faces had a smile for me.

I was greatly moved by this because I knew it for an expression of friendship and respect and because by making a joke of the ceremony in that way they were seeking to show me that I had been in the wrong when I tried to compel them. And I had thought them savages. No doubt it was the fault of the wine but I felt some start of tears and thought of making another speech but decided to give them a song instead. I chose one written by a great hero of mine, the troubadour Bernard of Ventadour, born the son of a castle servant, whose talents won him honour in many courts and made his name famous.

When grass grows green and leaves show forth And trees are bright with blossom, And lark lifts up his voice, Such joy it gives me, Joy in my lady, and in myself joy…

As I sang I looked often at Nesrin and I saw by her face she was held by my singing, and this brought more tenderness and joy into my voice.

There was much applause when I finished and they asked for another song and would not be satisfied till I agreed. This time I chose one I had composed myself, very different in mood.

The one I most desire

Is cold towards me.

She does not summon me now.

Why is she so changed?

If she love me not with her body

At least let her show me kindness…

The heartbreak of this and the abjectness of it, and my heightened feelings, and Nesrin's attentive face before me, combined to break my voice a little as I sang – it was sometimes a fault in me when I sang before others that I allowed my feelings to come too close to the words I was singing and so the even tenor of the voice was threatened.

I did not sing more, though they wanted me to and loudly asked it. I could tell from their words and faces that my singing had moved them, the more so perhaps as they had not known of this talent of mine and so had been taken by surprise.

"This night stays in our memory for ever," Temel said, and he raised his cup to me and I touched it with mine and we drank together. I saw how they all enjoyed the wine, though the women drank less. I made some joking remark about the Prophet's forbidding of it, and they said they were not Moslems but Yazidis. This was a religion quite new to me and I was about to enquire into the tenets of its faith when it occurred to me that it was a question I might put to Nesrin, if ever I got the opportunity to engage her in talk when no one else was by.