‘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?’