Tree of Pearls, Queen of Egypt

A Father’s Love

 A Father’s Love having finally ascertained the truth, the Caliph clapped for a page and ordered him to take Shwaykar to the Custodian of the Imperial Harem, and he charged the page to make sure that she be honored and given every possible comfort . He then turned to the Dawadar. “You have just heard that Ahmad was aided in this criminal exploit by men from amongst our own troops. Is this proper? Is it fitting that our men conduct themselves thus? Is this not treason?” he spluttered angrily. The Dawadar understood this outburst as a personal reproof, and he was now obliged to lay blame on the Caliph’s son in order to defend himself. “I assure you, Your Highness, our troops were not acting on my orders but on those of Prince Abu Bakr. They could not have refused a direct command from his Excellency.” “And why not?” the Caliph hotly retorted. “Do you defy me in order to obey my son while I yet live?” The Caliph was exceedingly agitated. He huffed and gasped for air and gritted his teeth in fury. Mu’ayyid al-Din was almost inclined to believe that he would have ordered Prince Ahmad’s execution, had he been present in person. How he wished that the Prince would come! As though reading his thoughts, the Caliph resumed his speech. “Where is Ahmad now?” “I know not, my Lord,” the Dawadar uneasily replied. “Find him and bring him to me this instant!” The Dawadar bowed and turned to withdraw. The Caliph glanced at Mu’ayyid al-Din with a contrite expression on his face. “We have doubted our Minister unfairly—may he be rewarded. Why did you not immediately inform me of the girl’s true identity?” “Because I did not know it myself until a few days ago, my Lord. I bade the man who brought her to me to hide her in a safe place until the opportunity arose  | tree of pearls, queen of egypt to consult the Commander of the Faithful without the knowledge of Prince Abu Bakr. I thereby hoped to avoid any harm he might do. He is the son of the Commander of the Faithful and the army answers directly to him.” The Caliph shook his head sorrowfully. “To God we belong and to Him we shall return. Indeed, I committed a grave fault in giving this boy of mine his freedom. If he had been cloistered in the manner of his predecessors, he would not have acquired this evil nature, nor brought these calamities upon us. He shall be detained and placed under guardianship once again. I will teach him obedience —may God shame the wayward rogue!” While they were thus engaged, there came at the door a great din in which they discerned the voice of Abu Bakr shouting angrily. “Are the hordes of women in his own house not enough for him? Must he lust after my own poor slaves? Let me enter!” The Chamberlain hurried in and awkwardly sought permission to admit the Prince. “Has he come alone?” demanded the Caliph. “Yes, Your Highness.” “How so? Is not the Dawadar with him?” “No, Your Highness.” Abu Bakr stormed unannounced into the room, his whole body shaking with anger. At the sight of him, his father was constrained to invoke God’s mercy, for the coming interview promised to be a stormy one. “What is this, Ahmad? Is this how one enters the presence of the Commander of the Faithful? Where are your manners? Know you nothing of the dignity of the Caliphate?” Abu Bakr sat down uninvited. “You ask me about manners when I am the son of the Commander of the Faithful and have been raised in his lap? Perhaps this is the very cause of my wretchedness. People envy me because the Caliph is my father, but if they knew how he treats me, they would have nothing but pity.” His voice grew thick as though he would burst into tears. Now as soon as Al-Musta‘sim heard his son’s strangled sob and remarked the tear that sparkled in the corner of his eye, his anger subsided and his paternal affection began to get the better of him. A father’s love does not submit to justice, nor does it acknowledge the principles of logic, nor require evidence and proofs. It is a tyrannical ruler whose actions most often fall outside the realm of law, and many...