Tariq Ali - A Sultan in Palermo

‘There is an old Greek church in Siracusa. They say there are two icons that shine and smile in the dark. I have never been inside it. Tell me what it’s like.’

‘I will, my lady, and thank you for your kindness.’

When Idrisi had been away for over four weeks, Balkis began to panic. She felt neglected and remembered something that Mayya had said to her when they were both pregnant. ‘Love and jealousy are sisters, Balkis. I’m love and you’re jealousy.’

At the time she’d laughed and greeted the remark with loud protestations, but she knew it contained more than a single grain of truth. As long as Mayya was alive, Balkis had reconciled herself to staying with Aziz and sharing Idrisi with her sister. Now she wanted him all the time. If he decided to live on the estate she could see him three or even four times a week. It took three hours to walk to Noto. She could ride over in under an hour. She began to plan. What she wanted now was another child. Then she could leave Hamdis with his father and she could live with her Muhammad.

Idrisi returned the next week and went first to his son, who was with Eudoxia in the gardens. He held the boy and kissed him many times before he went in search of Balkis. She held him close while he told her of all that had taken place.

‘Nothing you couldn’t imagine, my loved one. Elinore was inconsolable. There was nothing I could say or do to comfort her. She stayed in her room and refused to eat. I think it was Simeon’s flute that lured her out again. She talked endlessly to Ibn Fityan and Thawdor, but they spared her the worst details. Then she, too, said she never wanted to return to Palermo. Uthman took her out for long walks and she came back with some colour in her cheeks. She is keen for you to go with the boys. Simeon was shaken by the news as well. It was pure chance that his father had survived and he pleaded with the old man to send for his mother. Ibn Fityan will stay on the estate. So, my poor Mayya’s death has brought us all back to the Val di Noto.’

‘And you, habibi? Where will you stay?’

‘I want to see the boys grow and Elinore return to happiness. I will finish my book on the estate. And before you remark on how long the book will take, let me inform you, Lady Balkis, another three months and it will be done. I will return tomorrow. When will you come?’

‘With you, tomorrow.’

‘And the children?’

‘Yes. You see, Ibn Muhammad, my husband is a kind and…’

He put his hand on her mouth.

‘Mayya’s death has made things worse for us. Not seeing you each day is now much more difficult.’

She stroked his hand.

They left early to avoid the boys being subjected to the midday sun. Balkis and Idrisi rode while their sons, Eudoxia and another maid were transported by cart. The party from Siracusa was welcomed with genuine warmth. Elinore clung to her aunt as both women wept. Simeon showed the now completed church to them proudly, Eudoxia falling to her knees the minute she entered to offer a prayer. Simeon watched her dispassionately.

‘If the events predicted by the Trusted One come to pass, this little building could be the saving of this estate.’

Elinore was now the accepted lady of the household and the estate. She had assigned rooms for them and Balkis was taken aback to discover that she was to share Idrisi’s chamber.

‘Is this wise?’ she whispered to her niece. ‘Might not Uthman find this distasteful?’

‘He is a true pagan, aunt. He would find it odd if you had separate rooms since he knows that Hamdis is our brother.’

‘Have you created a world without any secrets at all?’

‘Nobody knows I’m pregnant.’

Balkis hugged and kissed her niece. ‘I’m so pleased for you.’

‘I hope it’s a girl, aunt. I want to call her Mayya.’

‘Sometimes what one hopes, one gets.’

‘Not according to Abi. His medical knowledge teaches him otherwise.’

‘How is his book?’

‘Almost finished he says, but Uthman, who uses the library more than the rest of us, is not so convinced. He says there is another six months’ work. And that’s another secret. He would be reprimanded if it was discovered he was reading the manuscript whenever Abi went for a walk.’

Balkis expressed surprise at Uthman’s capabilities.

‘He’s normal most of the time. He likes living in an enclosed world. Once I asked if he would visit Siracusa and he ran out of the room and went to his tree. I have discovered the things that upset him and if we avoid mention of them he behaves like anyone else. He says odd thing at times. Once he told me that if there had been no library in the house, he would have died. And he meant every word of it.’

‘It seems he knows himself better than most of you know him?’

‘That’s too simple, aunt, but I can’t explain why.’

Balkis felt already at ease. She had no household responsibilities apart from feeding the children and while Idrisi worked she persuaded Uthman to show her the estate, listening attentively as he described each tree and plant. Then she met the animals.

Later that night after she had fed the infants, she returned to her room to find Idrisi having a bad coughing fit. As she approached, he looked up at her with pleading eyes.

‘In Allah’s name woman, can’t you see I need some milk.’

Then she realised. ‘Both my breasts are empty. Your sons are as greedy as their father.’

‘When will they fill up again?’

‘In a few hours.’

She cradled him. ‘I don’t want to leave you, Muhammad, but I must return tomorrow. There is a feast in honour of Aziz.’

‘Why is there never a feast in honour of me?’

‘Because he is the Amir of Siracusa, and you, my loved one, are only the Amir of the Book. The rich men of the city enjoy honouring each other. Tomorrow’s host is a Jewish merchant, which means that few Nazarenes will attend. Aziz has asked all our notables and, what is unusual, their wives to be present as well. Most of them are placid, pampered, spoiled creatures and will complain bitterly at being forced to.’

‘Strange how for the last five hundred years the fate of the Jews has so often been tied to our own future. Where we suffer, they suffer. Where we prosper, they prosper. Where they are present and we are not, they fail to defend themselves and are slaughtered like sheep. It’s the same story here, in al-Andalus and in al-Quds, Baghdad, Cairo and Damascus.’

‘I’ll repeat these wise words to my husband. Perhaps he will find use for them at the feast.’

‘And if you permit me, I would like to find use for you tonight.’

And Balkis became pregnant for the second time.

Idrisi would look back on these eight months on the estate as the happiest of his life. Uthman surprised him each day. His bad moments became fewer and fewer and his health improved considerably. His limp vanished altogether and the marks of deprivation on his skin disappeared. Elinore confided to her father that although he still loved sheep, she felt he was ready for marriage with a woman and perhaps her aunt could help. Possibly, her father replied, Balkis can find someone who is intelligent but who also resembled a sheep.

Idrisi had realised that Uthman was secretly reading his book, but far from being angry he was thrilled. Once it was acknowledged, the two would discuss various sections and he would ask Uthman to compare al-Kindi with Hippokrates on a specific cure. Uthman knew every book in the library. Without the three hundred new additions, he had counted three thousand, four hundred and twenty-one volumes.

And there was Balkis, whose visits to the estate became more and more frequent, the larger she grew. He had never loved a woman like this before, not even Mayya. He would see Balkis and Elinore, both heavy with child, walking together and comparing their stomachs. It pleased him to see them like this and once Uthman had wondered aloud whether his nephew or his brother would be born first. What if it was a niece and a sister, his father asked him. He had shrugged his shoulders. It did not matter to him at all. While Hamdis was left behind at the palace in the care of a wet-nurse, Afdal was growing up on the estate. Even when Balkis had to return to Siracusa, she left him in the safe hands of Eudoxia. But the grown-up Afdal adored was his uncle Uthman who spent a great deal of time with him and spoke to him as he would to a peer. The result was that the first words spoken by Afdal were beautifully expressed: friend, sheep, book, butter, goat, flute and Simeon.