A Sultan in Palermo (30 page)

As they left the chamber, they saw the Amir who greeted Idrisi with a warm embrace.

‘Allah have mercy on us, Ibn Muhammad.’

‘Nobody else does,’ replied the scholar.

Some hours after he had left, Balkis was feeding both children and noticed that Afdal kept pushing her nipple aside before groping for it again, while Hamdis stuck to it like an insect. Perhaps my milk tastes different and he has noticed. But Eudoxia, the maid who had survived the massacre, reassured Balkis. ‘He’s like that with every tit, my lady, if you’ll pardon my speech. Your sister—may the Lord bless her—was always struggling to feed him. He’s a strong one, this lad, and will give women a lot of trouble, bless him.’

‘Do you go to church every Sunday?’

‘Yes, my lady.’

‘Do you think those barbarians who killed my sister and the servants would have spared you if they’d seen the crucifix hanging from your neck?’

‘Oh no, my lady. Two of the girls who were killed had the same cross around their necks. They were animals, my lady, only worse. Lombards! They weren’t from this island. Our people ...’

‘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.

The book was finished two months before the new children were due and Idrisi became irritable. It was Balkis who suggested he and Uthman go and see Walid in Venice. The mere suggestion sent Uthman scurrying to his tree and he stayed there till Balkis and Elinore arrived to comfort him and apologise for the suggestion. ‘Please don’t get rid of me,’ was all he said to them. Balkis was mortified.

Unlike his son, Idrisi was ready to travel again. He missed the sea, but he also knew that if he did not go to Walid now it might soon be too late. From there he would go to Alexandria and Cairo and renew long-forgotten friendships. He, who had been lost in his work for so long, now felt the need to be in a city where Believers ruled, but not any city. The barbarians are bad enough, he thought, but we have our own barbarians who burn books by our greatest philosophers and punish poets. If the real barbarians and ours ever got together, Allah alone would not be sufficient to help us.

His mind was made up. He asked Uthman to read the whole manuscript carefully and iron out the inconsistencies. When he came back he would prepare the final draft.

‘When will that be, Abu?’

‘A few months at most. Look after Afdal for me.’

This was the most painful farewell for they had become strongly attached to each other. After embracing his father, Uthman retreated to the tree once again. He did not like people leaving the estate.

Idrisi wished Elinore and Simeon well and asked if they had thought of a name in case it was a boy.

‘Thawdor,’ replied Elinore.

‘Original,’ replied her father.

Balkis had sworn to herself she would not weep and her eyes remained dry.

‘If our child is a girl and Elinore has a boy, I will call our daughter Mayya. Agreed?’

‘Agreed. And if it is a boy?’

‘Nuwas! Agreed.’

‘Agreed. And what if you both have girls?’

‘I hadn’t thought of that possibility.’

‘Let there be two Mayyas.’

‘I will. Muhammad I need to know the truth. Could you put a price on our love?’

‘How could I? It’s priceless.’

‘Then make sure you return to me. I don’t want to think of you as a beggar in a foreign land. This island is your home regardless of everything. And the elixir that cures your cough is not of the same quality elsewhere.’

He kissed her eyes and then her lips.

Two days sailing and Siracusa already seemed far away. Idrisi did not know it, but he had passed a merchant ship carrying Walid to Siqilliya. He wondered if they could ever take the island back from the Franks and get rid of the Lombards. But if we did succeed, what would we do this time that was different from the last? Would we be able to work together? Give the people something that they would die for without too much urging? The Trusted One had useful ideas, but the big problem was to break from tribal modes of thought and rise to the level of the culture we have created. But these are all golden dreams. How can one deal with hundreds of thousands of people who ignore their own interests and head proudly towards one disaster, then another?

Perhaps he would not visit Alexandria this time. He would go to the city of the caliphs and mingle with the poets and philosophers and search for new books in the House of Wisdom. He would go to Baghdad, the city that will always be ours. The city that will never fall. The city that will never fall.

I
DRISI MET WALID ON
his return to Siqilliya and lived on his estate till his death eleven years after that of Rujari. His Medical Formulary was published in Baghdad, but did not contain the remedy for coughs. Uthman and Walid never married. Balkis’s son Nuwas became a wandering poet, leaving Siracusa when he was eighteen and moving from one city to another in al-Andalus. None of his poems have survived. Elinore’s daughter, Mayya, and her three brothers and their children continued to live on the estate where a larger church had to be constructed to accommodate the new flock. The Trusted One, after teaching philosophy and history to Khalid and his children, died peacefully at the age of eighty-four. The village he helped to re-found still exists and venerates his memory—though he is now regarded as a Christian saint.

In the hundred years that elapsed after Idrisi’s death, members of his family fought in every single rebellion. While the Franks were fighting each other for the throne in Palermo, armed bands under the command of Khalid ibn Umar and Afdal ibn Muhammad had liberated large parts of western Siqilliya. The Franks sent expeditions to crush them, but were content to keep them confined to their strongholds. An uprising in Palermo had shaken Frankish self-confidence and severe restrictions had been imposed. The Friday
khutba
was forbidden and attendance of any
mehfil
was punished with death.