‘I have, uncle.’
‘Go and bring them.’
As Khalid disappeared Uthman sat down on the chair beneath the tree and spoke again.
‘It was the great Greek thinker Pythagoras who taught us that humans were reincarnated as animals, father. Did you know that? Please arrange my wedding.’
‘I did know that, son, but where did you hear about it?’
‘In your library. I often go and read. There are many books of interest. I enjoy that a great deal.’
Tears filled his father’s eyes. What had gone wrong with his child? The ancients wrote of people losing their minds, but had no cure. There must be a cure. Why should a mental ailment be ignored or be dependent on remedies based on pure superstition?
‘Will you not come into the house and break bread with us?’
‘I can’t, Abu, because you will sit down and eat my mother-in-law. I saw her being killed, unclothed, marinated, after which little spears of garlic pierced her body and then they covered her in wild thyme because even they were ashamed of her nakedness. You can see her now being roasted gently on the fire.’
‘Tomorrow, I promise we will not consume any meat. Will you eat with us then?’
‘With great pleasure, Abu. I am glad to see you again. And I was glad to hear from my nephew that your book was completed. Thank you for coming to see me.’
As Idrisi walked back to the house he reflected on the fact that the only member of his family who had shown any interest in his book was his mentally disturbed son. Later, Sakina told him that on most days, apart from his conversations with the animals, Uthman was completely normal. It was only when he imagined the soldiers were going to find and kill him that he left the house and hid outside for days. And he was frightened of visitors — he thought they were spies who would return and inform on him to the commander of the Roman Legion in Siracusa.
‘Why has he aged so much?’
‘It has happened slowly, but we do not know why. Ummi thought it must be related to the disease.’
‘I’m not sure about that at all.’
Khalid, who had been listening to them, had another theory.
‘I think it’s sadness that has turned his hair white. Day after day, he sits in his chair and watches the animals being slaughtered. It really upsets him. You know something, Jiddu, I sit with him when he talks to the animals. He tries to teach them our history and about our Prophet and then the battles, but usually he talks to them about ancient Greece and its great philosophers. I have learnt a great deal from him. Why can’t we let him marry who he wants?’
‘Khalid!’ warned his aunt.
‘The boy could well be right on why he has aged prematurely. Is there no way of moving him away from the animals? What if we removed all the animals from the estate?’
The suggestion panicked Khalid. ‘Don’t ever do that, Jiddu. He would only think they had all been killed and would kill himself.’
‘You seem to know him better than anyone else, my child. Surely, one thing that could be easily organised is to make sure the animals are slaughtered at night when he is asleep. If it causes him so much distress, why do it in front of him? What do you think?’
Khalid thought for a while. ‘It is a good idea, but he knows them all and would still miss them, but it would still be a better way.’
That same evening Sakina instructed the butcher, and the lambs and goats were removed at night. Over the next week Uthman appeared much happier and one afternoon whispered to Khalid, ‘My friends are learning how to escape. They know they’re about to be slaughtered and run away each night. I told them to go and hide in the caves near the sea. I hope my fiancée doesn’t run away.’
‘But my dearest uncle, wouldn’t you rather she ran away? What if they killed her?’
‘You are a very clever boy. I’m proud of you. I suppose I’ll have to marry someone else.’
That night the sheep that had caught Uthman’s eye was taken from the pen and made ready for the kitchen the next morning. They ate her at the midday meal and Idrisi noticed Khalid picking nervously at the meat rather than eating it properly.
Perhaps there is no medicine for his disease, thought Idrisi, but if there is a cure, it must involve entering his head and Khalid has done so more than any adult in the household.
The Trusted One was of the same opinion. He had engaged in a number of conversations with Uthman in the library and was amazed that he knew where every single book was located and, of the books he himself had read, he could cite page numbers and references without any problems.
‘Perhaps only a part of his mind has ceased to function. The rest is fine. This is the part of the human body of which we physicians know the least.’
One night after the evening meal, they gathered around a fire that had been lit outside, ate dried fruits and sipped wild mint tea underneath the stars. It reminded Idrisi of his youth. He took Elinore aside and pointed at the lights of a distant village.
‘I used to ride there once a day just to catch a glimpse of your mother.’
‘And my aunt?’
‘No, you wretch. She was far too young to be taken seriously.’
Abu Khalid suggestively cleared his throat and Idrisi and Elinore returned to the family circle. Idrisi spoke of the deaths in the family and praised his late wife for the efficient way in which she had run the estate. An unexpected reflection interrupted him.
‘I wish Walid were present to hear you say that, Abu. It would have made him happy.’
Idrisi smiled. ‘I, too, wish he was here, Uthman. May Allah protect all my children.’
He described how it had been a hilly wasteland when his grandfather first arrived one summer. It had taken them six months alone to dig the stones from the soil for the first few terraces. Many of the stones had been used to build the house. When the winter rains came, the earth was transformed, the hills turning green and the streams overflowing. Only then were they certain they had made a good choice.
‘And now we have hard decisions to take. Even if I remain on this island I will never live here again. Sakina lives with her family. Abu Khalid and Khalid are happy on their own estate. Uthman, of course, will live here with his friends, but he cannot manage the estate. The peasants who work these estates, like their forebears before them, will suffer greatly if we were to sell the estate. I was wondering how we should solve this problem when Khalid told me that he and his father had invited the Trusted One to join us. So I turn to him. Holy man, if that is what you are, explain to us how we will teach the peasants to bear false witness with brazen faces in order to defend themselves against the future. We have all heard of the village where miracles took place after your visit.’
The demeanour of the Trusted One had altered since he had met Bulbula’s sister. He had cut his hair short and trimmed his beard. He bathed more regularly and wore clean clothes, all this partly in response to a heartrending plea from Bulbula’s sister. But he was also aware that descriptions of him were circulating all over the island and that the swinish Lombards would soon seek their revenge.
The scholar had posed questions that required a response. ‘Learned Master Idrisi, I thank you and your family for the hospitality you have given me. As I see it, there are few problems with this estate. The peasants have not been mistreated and they are all Believers. The size of the estate is not excessive. I have been making some estimates. There are a hundred peasant families in addition to six retainers in the household.’
‘In fact, Trusted One,’ said Uthman, ‘there are one hundred and three families and eight retainers. You forgot to count the butcher and the wood cutter who eat daily in our kitchen.’