A Sultan in Palermo (19 page)

Before Idrisi could reply several Barons and three Bishops came through the door looking pleased with themselves. The steward bowed and escorted them out of the antechamber. In contrast to previous occasions, none of them bothered to acknowledge Idrisi’s presence. He strode into Rujari’s chamber without waiting for the steward to return. The Sultan seemed genuinely pleased to see him. How could he be so remote from reality?

‘I’m glad you’re back. I need you by my side.’

‘I just saw the men who are on your side. Barons bloated with too much food and Bishops living off the fat of lands they have stolen.’

‘From your tone, Idrisi, I detect that you will not be present at the trial tomorrow.’

‘The Sultan will forgive me, I hope. The sight of your foster-son being falsely accused, found guilty and burnt is something I do not wish to witness. It is bad enough living with my conscience, powerless to prevent Philip’s death and too weak and cowardly to do anything myself. It would appear that we have returned to a primitive state of conflict between our two communities.’

‘It’s not easy for me, Muhammad. You know full well I have not long to live.’

‘Philip al-Mahdia was your best chance of keeping your family on the throne. The Barons will not leave the Hauteville clan alone for too long. Who will defend them once you have gone?’

‘I have made my choice, Master Idrisi. And I fully understand your repugnance at what I have done. It’s best if you stay away from the palace for a few weeks till this storm blows itself out. And you have my permission to take Mayya and Elinore with you. She has inherited your intelligence. You should be proud of her.’

Idrisi, caught by surprise, asked in a low voice: ‘You knew?’

‘From the beginning.’

‘Then why ...’

‘Because to have acknowledged that I was aware of what had taken place could have established an unhealthy precedent. It was Philip who advised total secrecy. Your own Sultans would have ordered the executioner and made your neck taste the scimitar. For that reason Philip was against letting you know. But in my heart I was happy for you.’

‘As always, Philip offered you sage advice. I thank you for your friendship and generosity. It has always meant a great deal to me.’

‘I wish I did not have to do what I am going to do. I hope you believe me.’

Idrisi did not reply, but bowed out of the room. The steward was waiting for him.

‘The Sultan suggested I take the Lady Mayya and Elinore home with me.’

‘It was time,’ said the steward in a soft voice. ‘Follow me Master Idrisi.’

They walked to the harem, guarded by two eunuchs who rose on seeing the men approach.

‘This is the harem of Sultan Rujari,’ the shorter of the two men spoke. ‘What business do you have here?’

The steward whispered something in the man’s ear. The door was opened and the Chief Eunuch alerted the women.

‘On the orders of our exalted Sultan Rujari, a male guest is entering to visit the Lady Mayya.’

A flurry of doors being shut and from behind exquisitely latticed windows curious eyes observed his entry. Idrisi followed the two eunuchs into the women’s quarter and to Mayya’s rooms. Answering the knock on her door, she was shocked to see him. ‘Why are you here? This was not agreed.’

‘I have the Sultan’s permission to take you and Elinore home now.’

Mayya was astounded. Stepping aside, she invited him into her chamber. He had last come here eighteen years ago and the result had been Elinore. How different it had been on that occasion. He had been disguised as a woman and a small purse of silver coins was the price demanded by the eunuch on duty, who had subsequently disappeared. Had Philip ordered his execution?

They embraced each other as she wept.

‘I never thought it would happen so soon. Do we have to leave now?’

‘That was the Sultan’s instruction.’

‘But my ... our clothes ... our ... Elinore.’

‘All that can be sent to my house tomorrow. The Sultan has asked me to keep away from the palace for some time.’

‘I can’t believe I’m free, Muhammad.’

‘Let us not waste any more time. Where is Elinore?’

‘She is with Balkis and the Amir in the guest chambers. I think I should break the news to her alone. Let me go and bring her. Should we meet you at the palace gates or would you like some time on your own to explore the harem? And we will have to pack some clothes just for tomorrow.’

‘I will wait for you in the steward’s chamber near the gates. Try and avoid too much excitement and invite your sister and her husband to join us for the midday meal tomorrow.’

‘Muhammad, tomorrow is Philip’s trial. The Amir of Siracusa has been asked to attend and there are notables from Qurlun and other cities here as well. And you?’

‘I have told the Sultan I will not be present. In that case Balkis could come with you now. Why should she be present here tomorrow? And ask the Amir to come and join us after the trial. I doubt it will take a long time.’

‘I will ask Balkis to come with us. The whole palace is upset. I had no idea that Philip had so many followers. The eunuchs can barely speak. Most of the old retainers walk about with sad eyes. As for those who work in the Diwan, they feel it’s the end.’

She looked around her rooms for the last time, finding it hard to believe she would never live here again.

*
Wild hemp.

T
HE MEETING WITH RUJARI
angered Idrisi. The Sultan appeared distant and unconcerned. Idrisi wished he were dead. How could Rujari have forgotten the past so soon and accepted the demands of corrupt Barons, hypocritical and grovelling Bishops and empty-headed courtiers? Then he controlled his thoughts. He did not wish to feel only hatred and resentment for his old friend. He recalled one of their many conversations.

It happened when they were still young. It was a stifling midsummer’s day. There were no breezes on land and no waves on the sea, whose smooth surface shone like glass.

Rujari sent a message to his friend in the library, suggesting they board his ship and cool themselves in the sea. Idrisi remembered how shocked the Greek sailors were when, on his first voyage, he admitted he did not know how to swim. An islander who could not swim! With great patience they taught him how to use his hands and legs and breathe in the water, how to stay afloat, and gradually he acquired the skills.

They found a beautiful cove not far from Palermo. After their swim, they had mainly talked geography and astronomy and Idrisi had praised the accuracy of Ptolemy’s maps, commenting that the Alexandrian must have had a fine eye and skills that had so far eluded him. Time had passed quickly. On the way home they sat on deck and savoured what was left of the day, enjoying the sea breeze that rose as the sun began to disappear. Each had won a game of chess before Rujari asked an attendant to take the pieces away and bring a flask of wine. Turning to Idrisi, he asked whether differences between their two peoples were rocks that could not be shifted, or might their faiths become intertwined in the years ahead. Idrisi hesitated before replying.

‘There is no such thing as a rock that cannot be moved. When the gods are angry, as the ancients used to say, they shake the earth and whole cities are destroyed. It would need something on that scale to unite the armies of the Prophet and the Pope.’

Rujari laughed. ‘I wasn’t thinking about the world. I was thinking of Siqilliya. I meant that my people had learnt so much from yours that it seems to me natural for us to work together and share the same faith.’

Again Idrisi hesitated. ‘Sultan, this island has changed a great deal since the Prophet’s soldiers set foot here. My people have a natural tendency to exaggerate and boast, even when we are defeated. When we win, our pride reaches the heavens. The Greeks came here first, then the Romans. The Greeks built their temples, tended to the grape and the olive tree and philosophers from differing schools disputed in public in the Forum in Siracusa. The Romans cultivated the land for the wheat, needed to supply the imperial legions. My people have brought fruits of every description and cotton and the silkworm and the papyrus and made Palermo a city that cannot be surpassed. You inherited all this, but you too have contributed to the riches of the island. Your presence is proof that it is possible to buy gladiators and use them against the enemy. Your people were fighters and sailors.’

‘I speak of now, Idrisi, now.’

‘But honoured Sultan, with your permission I would like to finish. We do have much in common. Your people mastered the sea, my people the desert. You became great boat-builders, we learnt how to ride the camel and the horse. You burnt your way into the lands of the Franks and they bought you off with land and your own space. We defeated two Empires and created our own. Our ship was the camel, but much more reliable than yours. It could travel sixty Roman miles a day and go for twenty days without water. A few dates and camel’s milk was a nourishing diet. The people in Makkah still enjoy cooking in the fat taken from the camel’s hump. Which ship could ever be as reliable as that? In both our cases it was nature that determined what we did and how we moved. In the end our needs were greater and we were more successful.’

Rujari was slightly irritated. ‘Our women were easier, accepting their place in our lives with dignity and calm. Yours were barbarians. Your Saracen women—and many Romans whose writings are in the palace library have testified to this—were too forward, too passionate, too demanding. Often they discarded their husbands.’

‘Sultan, you speak of the desert people during the time of Ignorance, before our Prophet heard the voice of Allah. The women were brought under control by our faith.’

‘Perhaps in public, Master Idrisi, but in the confines of the palace or the home nothing much changed. Why, your own Prophet needed a Revelation to silence the scandalmongers who alleged that his young wife, Aisha, had committed adultery.’

Both men fell silent. It was Idrisi who spoke first. ‘You asked if on this island we might one day share a common faith. How can we ever believe that Mariam was impregnated by Allah to produce Isa? Your faith was too close to pagan times and you had to make compromises. You needed a virgin goddess who slept with your God. Was this not Zeus in another form? And we find it difficult to believe that Isa was resurrected.’

‘Why? Your book talks of the Day of Judgement where every man will face his creator. Some will go to Heaven and others to Hell. If they can be resurrected at Allah’s will, why couldn’t God recall Jesus? As you know, Idrisi, these are unsettled questions in our Church. There are many Christians who do not accept the divinity of Jesus. Are there any in your faith who question the Revelation?’

‘Too many, alas, and from the earliest times. The Prophet’s own wife, Aisha, according to traditions, commented many times on the ease with which her husband obtained sanction from Allah to satisfy his personal desires. And the Prophet’s successor Caliph Omar was heard to say that he was often surprised when the advice he had given the Prophet in private turned out to be exactly the same as a later Revelation. And a whole group of theologians in Baghdad argued that al-Quran was a man-made document, thus questioning its divinity ...’

‘Enough for one evening, Master Idrisi. I readily admit that your religion permits far greater pleasures in this world and the next than does mine. For that reason alone, leaving aside the knowledge spread by your learned scholars, if it was up to me alone and nothing else was involved I would convert to your faith this very moment.’

‘Perhaps, if the ships bringing Your Majesty’s forebears to the land of the Gauls and Franks had been diverted by sudden squalls and had instead reached the ports of al-Andalus, all might have been different.’

‘Why did that not occur to me?’

‘Because geography and history are ever present in my thoughts.’

‘One thing I promise you, Master Idrisi. As long as I am alive the Church will not be allowed to kill or burn a single person simply because he believes in your Prophet and not mine.’

And that is how the conversation ended or so Idrisi had thought. But later that night, Philip al-Mahdia had visited him in his rooms.

‘I heard of the conversation you had with the Sultan today.’

Idrisi was stunned. How did he know?

‘It is legitimate for you to question, but it would be unwise of me to reply. All I will say is that you made a great mistake.’

‘In Allah’s name, what mistake? Why do you talk in this fashion?’

There was an undercurrent of anger in Philip’s voice. ‘When the Sultan declared that if it was up to him he would convert to your faith, why did you not suggest that he should do so, but not make it public? For the Church and the Barons he would be a Christian, but in private say the five obligatory prayers. Why did you not suggest that, Master Idrisi? Do you realise what an opportunity has been missed because of your thoughtlessness? You are so concerned with your own work that you have lost sight of the larger world.’

Idrisi was so astonished by this outburst that for a few moments he stared at Philip in silence. ‘I did not ask what you suggest for the simple reason that the thought did not enter my head. Rujari is a friend, but he is also the Sultan. It was not my place to suggest anything to him.’

‘One day,’ said Philip calmly, ‘our people might suffer because of your mistake.’

‘Why are you so concerned? You are not even a Believer.’

Philip smiled and left the room.

T
HE LARGE HALL WHERE
the Sultan met his subjects once a month had been transformed. The throne remained on the elevated wooden platform, but the empty space in front was now crowded with wooden chairs and benches laid as a semi-circle. In the centre a platform had been prepared for the prisoners: in addition to Philip a few of those who worked for him had also been arrested and charged to create the impression of a conspiracy.