"Ah, you look a man of elegance and purpose," he declared, acclaiming the result. "Now, the amir is waiting. I will lead you to him. And if you will allow me, I will instruct you in how to conduct yourself in his company."
"I would be grateful," I replied, even though I already had a fair notion of what he expected, which I had learned through observations of the few meetings I had attended when the eparch met with the Arabs in Trebizond.
"It is easily told," said Farouk, leading me from the room. "I will explain as we go."
We started down the long corridor, passing the stairs leading to the roof garden. Instead of going up, this time we turned and descended to the lower level, and into a great hall. "This is the receiving room," explained Farouk, "but, as this is not a formal audience, the amir will see you in his private apartments. It is customary in these circumstances for you to bow upon greeting him. Simply do as you see me do," he told me. "You may invoke Allah's blessing upon him, or you may simply remind the amir that you are his servant awaiting his pleasure."
We made our way across the long reception room, and Farouk explained several other things he thought I might like to know about the ordering of the household. A high, narrow door stood at the end of the room, and Farouk indicated that we were to go through; he pushed open the door and we entered a vestibule with but a single low door at the end of it; the door was rosewood and its surface studded with gold-topped nails arranged in flowing design. Before this door stood a guard with a curved axe on the end of a long pole. Farouk spoke a few words and the guard turned, pulled on a leather strap and the door swung open; the warrior stepped aside, touching his hand to his heart as Farouk passed.
Bending our heads, we passed under the low lintel. "Remember," whispered Farouk, "your life is in his hands now."
With that, we entered a chamber more akin to one of the amir's tents than a palace: tall slender pillars, like tent poles, held up a high roof, peaked in the centre; both ceiling and walls were covered with red cloth that billowed gently in the breeze from four vast windholes which made up a large curved alcove wherein Amir Sadiq and three women sat on cushions, a huge brass tray of food before them. The windholes were covered by enormous pierced wooden screens which allowed both air and light into the room. Through the intricately carved screens, I could see the shimmer of water in a small pond, and I could hear the splash of a waterfall.
At our appearance, the women rose and departed without a word. Farouk bowed from the waist and greeted the amir; I imitated the gesture, but stiffly.
"Enter! Enter!" cried Sadiq. "In the name of Allah and his Holy Prophet, I welcome you, my friends. May peace and serenity attend you while you are my guests. Sit and break fast with me. I insist."
I made to protest that I had eaten already, but Farouk gave me a warning glance and replied for both of us. "To share bread with you, my Lord Sadiq, would be a pleasure most profound."
The amir did not rise, but spread his arms wide in welcome. "Please sit beside me, Aidan," he said, indicating the cushion at his right hand. "Farouk," he said, nodding to his left, "please allow me to come between you and your estimable charge."
"Very soon he will be no longer in my care," replied the physician genially. "In no time at all I shall be on my way home to Baghdat."
"There is no hurry, my friend," said Sadiq. "You are welcome to stay as long as you like."
"Thank you, my lord," answered Farouk, inclining his head slightly. "My affairs are not so pressing that I must rush away all at once. With your permission I will stay until my services are no longer required."
Turning to me, Sadiq said, "It is good to see you standing on your own two feet. You are feeling better, I think."
"I am most grateful to you," I said. "Without your intervention I would have died. My life is yours, Lord Sadiq."
"Allah makes some men of iron, others of grass," the amir replied lightly. "You, I think, are the first material. Now, if you will excuse me, I have exhausted my small supply of Greek. Farouk will convey your words to me, if you agree."
I conceded readily, and remembered that Sadiq had deprecated his Greek-speaking abilities upon meeting the eparch. I watched as he began heaping food into small brass bowls, and thought that perhaps the subtle amir spoke Greek much more fluently and skilfully than he let on. Certainly, he understood more than he allowed. I wondered why he should pretend otherwise.
