A Sultan in Palermo Read Online Free PDF Page A

lamps.
    ‘What brings you here, Samar? And you, Sakina? I thought your mother had forbidden ...’
    ‘You haven’t seen your grandchildren for three years, Abu Walid. Our mother agreed we could make this journey.’
    He chuckled. ‘Old age must have softened her. Are the children asleep?’
    His daughters nodded.
    ‘And am I correct in assuming that you have prepared the lamb according to your mother’s instructions?’
    Samar laughed. ‘We weren’t sure you would return today, but a messenger from the palace arrived some hours ago to inform us that your ship had been sighted and you would be home tonight. The garlic and herbs travelled with us from Noto.’
    He smiled appreciatively. ‘I hope, like you, they retained their freshness.’
    Before either of them could reply he clapped his hands, raised his voice slightly and summoned the steward of the household. ‘Is my bath ready, Ibn Fityan?’
    The eunuch bowed. ‘Thawdor is waiting to rub oil on Your Excellency’ and the bath attendants have their instructions. Will Your Honour eat inside or on the terrace?’
    ‘Let my daughters decide.’
    Usually, when he lay on the slab of marble, he let the Greek do his work in silence. Not today. ‘Do you have any children, Thawdor?’
    The masseur was shocked. In the six years he had served in the household, the master had barely spoken to him.
    ‘Yes, my lord. I have three boys and a girl.’
    ‘I suppose two of the boys have been pledged to the Church?’
    ‘I believe in Allah and his Prophet, but my wife is a Nazarene and insisted on having one of them baptised.’
    Now it was Idrisi’s turn to be surprised. ‘But your name is Greek and I thought ...’
    ‘My name is Thawdor ibn Ghafur, O Commander of the Pen. My mother was Greek and even though she converted to our faith, she insisted on the name of her grandfather Thawdorus for me. My poor father, who could deny her nothing, agreed.’
    Idrisi’s curiosity had been aroused. He would ask Rujari to organise a register of all the mixed marriages on the island.
    ‘What about your boys?’
    ‘They are young men now. The youngest was on your ship on this last voyage. His mother will be happy to see him again.’
    On hearing this, the master of the house became agitated. He rose, draped a towel around his naked body and clapped his hands for the bath attendants. Two young men entered the room and bowed.
    ‘Thawdor, describe your boy.’
    Idrisi was now sure. ‘Simeon? I spoke with him on the ship. Why did he not tell me that you were his father?’
    ‘It probably did not occur to him. I’m amazed he had the effrontery to address you, master.’
    ‘I spoke to him first. The boy is sensitive and intelligent. What he cannot speak is expressed through the flute. He is a gifted boy and must be educated. I will speak to old Younis at the palace and see whether we can find a tutor for him.’
    Tears filled Thawdor’s eyes. ‘Your kindness is well known, sir. The boy’s mother might even pray to Allah to reward your goodness.’
    Idrisi nodded and the attendants escorted him to the bath next door. They soaped and scrubbed him with the most exquisitely soft sponges. Then he was ready to be dried and dressed. By the time he reached the terrace, the tiredness had been removed from his body. And the lamb was ready to be consumed. How odd it was, eating with his daughters. Why in Allah’s name were they here at all? He did not believe they had come all this way in order for him to see his grandchildren. It was not in their character. Nor, now that he thought about it, was the trouble they must have taken to prepare the lamb. Their mother Zaynab must have whispered nonsense in their ears: ‘Flatter the old man, make him feel you love him, make sure the lamb is cooked in the special way he likes, wait till he has tasted it and then ask what you need to ask.’ The memory of her insinuating voice and the false flattery was not pleasant and he was irritated with himself