Idrisi and Balkis, ignoring Ibn Fityan’s presence, comforted each other, wiping the tears from each other’s cheeks.
‘What has happened Balkis? Why? I should have insisted she come here. I should have forced her. My poor Mayya. Why her? Why not me? It was me they were after. How will I face Elinore? You must go and tell her, Balkis. Yes, yes, Ibn Fityan, finish your story. Don’t weep, man. I’m glad you’re alive. Otherwise they would have killed Afdal and Thawdor and you. How could you have saved them? You would have been killed like the rest. It was not your fault. There is no reason to feel guilty.’
Ibn Fityan wiped his tears and continued. ‘The boy who survived told me the men were in their cups, shouting obscenities and destroying everything. Some of your books were thrown out of the window. The rest were on the floor where these animals defecated and urinated on them.’
Idrisi’s sadness was mixed with rage.
‘Is there no limit to these barbarians?’
‘The whole city is stunned by the crime, Ibn Muhammad. The Sultan has ordered the arrest of the Baron from Messina. He wants the Baron and the Lombard hirelings to be publicly executed. The English Bishop is advising caution.’
Idrisi recalled the Englishman, middle-aged with light brown eyes and thinning hair, intelligent, ruthless and with a mocking, unpleasant, rasping voice, but also with an unlimited capacity to flatter those in power or close to it. Most courts have them, but this Bishop was unique. Rujari had never liked or trusted him, often remarking that the man was in the pay of the Vatican.
‘He is an evil one. Monks never advise caution when it’s a question of killing our people.’
Ibn Fityan shook his head sadly.
‘The Sultan sends his condolences and wishes you to return to Palermo.’
‘I will not return. I do not wish to see that house again.’
‘A wise decision.’
‘Where is Thawdor?’
‘He is here. He wished to see his son and, like me, he cannot bear the sight of Palermo or the house. I brought the maid as well since Afdal ibn Muhammad is used to her presence.’
‘You were wise to bring him here. Both of you can accompany me back to the estate. Perhaps Afdal…’
‘Leave him here,’ said Balkis. ‘There will be time later. Elinore needs you and there must be no distractions.’
‘Ibn Fityan, it would be helpful if you and Thawdor remained on the estate. He can bring his wife as well.’
‘I will do as you suggest, master.’
After Ibn Fityan had left the room, Balkis drew Idrisi to her, resting his head on her lap, and combed his hair with her fingers.
‘It is unbearable, Balkis, that she should be punished in my stead. It’s unbearable. And those animals raped and humiliated her. My son Uthman would reprimand me for referring to them as animals. He thinks humans are much worse.’
‘Uthman? Your son? You never spoke of him before now.’
‘Humans have this capacity to shield themselves from unpalatable truths. I am ashamed I never spoke of Uthman. He was so happy to see Elinore that he demanded I tell him all about Mayya.’
‘I want to know all about Uthman.’
To distract them both from their grief, he described Uthman’s history to her in detail, how he found it easier to relate to animals or young humans like Khalid than to the human race. Balkis determined to take his new brothers to see him. But now Idrisi knew he must leave again for his estate to give Elinore the terrible news of her mother’s death. Before his departure he wanted to see Afdal. Balkis took him by the arm to the chamber where the boy slept.
He wept again as he saw his sleeping son, not yet six months old. Who could love him like his mother once did? She almost read his thoughts.
‘I have enough milk for both of them,’ she told him. ‘I will bring him up like my own son.’
‘Perhaps in a few months’ time I should take him to the estate. Let me speak with Elinore.’
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.