Tariq Ali - A Sultan in Palermo

‘Well he won’t laugh when he sees you naked.’

It was such a ridiculous remark that both of them began to laugh. It was good-hearted, infectious laughter and it cleared the atmosphere. The overpowering tension that had gripped them suddenly disappeared. Once Mayya realised that her sister was in earnest she began to think seriously. Balkis watched her in silence for several minutes and then raised an inquiring eyebrow, only to be answered with a finger on the lips. Finally she could contain herself no longer.

‘Well?’

Mayya was feeling light-hearted again. As long as she organised and controlled the whole affair it might be good fun. If possible she would find a hiding place from where she could watch the whole scene, unbeknown to the two principal performers. She still did not think it was a good idea, but if it had to be done, it should be done properly. Left to herself, Balkis might wreck everything. She would then look at Mayya in her unforgiving way and blame her for the disaster. And why shouldn’t Muhammad al-Idrisi help Balkis in her hour of need?

She knew that people often preserve a memory of something, half-imagined, half-real that has happened to them in their youth. Later in life they think back on it as something exceptional or magical, outside the common order of things.

‘I have thought of a plan, but for it to succeed a number of conditions need to be met. First, he must never know that I know. Second, he must not believe that the woman entering his bedchamber is you…’

‘But…’ interrupted Balkis.

‘Please, let me finish. And lastly, when you see him again in the morning you must pretend nothing happened.’

‘What if nothing did happen? I mean, what if we didn’t succeed the first time?’

‘You can try again, but in exactly the same way.’

‘I accept the conditions. Now reveal each and every detail of your plan.’ She did, but before the rough edges could be refined, Elinore burst into the room.

‘Are we definitely leaving for Palermo tomorrow?’

Her mother nodded assent.

‘Why do you want to go back so soon Elinore? Why not wait for your father. He will be back in a few days and then both of you can return on his boat. Much nicer than going on a cart.’

‘I find Siracusa so dull, my aunt. All my friends are in Palermo. Everything happens there. I have heard of interesting happenings near Noto. They say there is a long-haired preacher with rapture in his soul who is spreading disaffection throughout Catania. Is this true? Have you heard of him?’

Balkis waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.

‘My husband knows him and says the man is half-mad.’

Elinore was not going to accept this. ‘That means he is also half-sane.’

Her mother glared at her.

‘Well,’ responded her aunt, ‘if you’re interested in the Trusted One — that’s what they call him — you had better wait for your father. He must have met him on his son-in-law’s estate.’

Elinore was torn. She was desperate to return home to see if any of the eunuchs had succeeded in finding the flute-player who had entranced her with his music. But the thought of waiting for her father was also attractive. She debated the merits of each case in her head and decided in favour of the boy who played the flute. They would return early tomorrow morning.

Her mother accepted the decision for her own reasons. She did not really wish to be in Siracusa when Idrisi returned. Balkis making eyes at him would be intolerable. Despite her show of support for her sister, Mayya was nervous about the cruel and monstrous pact they had sealed. Her brain was in a whirl. It was better if she was not present when Idrisi returned to the palace. If he even suspected her involvement she would be covered in disgrace. Elinore’s free-and-easy manner appeared to have convinced her aunt that they had to leave and unwittingly provided a neat solution to her mother’s dilemma.

‘Balkis, I do not wish you to wake up early on our account. We will leave before the sun is up, while Believers are being woken for the morning prayer. We will not disturb you. Let us say our farewells now.’

Elinore kissed her aunt warmly and left the room.

Balkis took hold of her sister’s hands and held them tight. ‘You are afraid of my impulsiveness. You’re beginning to regret our agreement. I love you, Mayya. You were a mother and a father to me. If I have hurt you I am prepared to withdraw my suggestion and declare our agreement dead. I want nothing to come between us. Nothing.’

Mayya, touched by the offer, did not speak immediately, but embraced Balkis and kissed her. ‘We have made a deal. Let us stay with it. It will not affect anything between us. That much I can promise you. I hope it works the first time, that’s all. I don’t want you to make it a habit.’

And on that note of warning the sisters parted.

Idrisi reflects on rebellion and is surprised in his sleep. His seed is extracted more than once.

THE RESPLENDENT MORNING CHEERED Idrisi. He had an early breakfast and left for Siracusa accompanied only by armed retainers. He had permitted neither Abu Khalid nor his brother Umar to accompany him. They had more important tasks at home.

The death of his daughter had led to much soul-searching on his part and Idrisi wondered if matters might have been different had he spent more time with his daughters and educated them. Then he would, once again, return to the root of the problem: his marriage. Even though he was only eighteen at the time he should have resisted his father.

Last night he had composed a short letter to Walid.

My dearest son:

I write with sad news. Your sister, Samar, died ten days ago. I was present in the house the day she decided to take her life. It took us all by surprise as there had been no indication that she was on the edge of despair. Young Khalid walks around in a bewildered state and it is difficult to console him. His father blames himself, but unfairly. He is a kind and considerate man and is not to blame for what happened. If anyone is to blame it is me. I should have been less harsh with her after uncovering a foolish and treacherous plan to bear false witness against her husband was exposed. It was her mother’s idea. She and Sakina became willing tools through stupidity more than malice. It would be foolish to provide more details in a letter that might not even reach you.

Your mother and Sakina arrived for the funeral, but stayed only a few days. I spoke with them briefly, spending more time with my grandchildren whose intelligence you would appreciate more than most.

I have been thinking a great deal of the past and will come to Venice before too long so we can sit and talk. You can’t imagine how much I miss your presence. The ripple of laughter and the babble of voices when your friends would come to see you at our house remains a cherished memory.

I embrace you,

Abu

He rode at a furious pace, anxious to reach Siracusa before sunset and set sail for Palermo early next morning. He had left the city in despair, searching for possible escape routes from the disaster that lay ahead. Rujari had not replied to his letter pleading for mercy. Perhaps he should have stayed and pleaded with the Sultan every day. Now he wanted to make one last effort to persuade the Sultan to spare Philip’s life. Rujari had treated Philip as his own son. He knew that the human sacrifice demanded by the Church and the Barons — a sacrifice to which Rujari had agreed — must nonetheless be tormenting the Sultan.

When Idrisi had discussed Philip’s imprisonment with the Trusted One, the preacher had mocked the community of Believers in Palermo. If they let Philip die without resistance, they would perish themselves.