"Precisely!" Farouk rushed on, "al'Mutamid is a gifted poet, and his calligraphy far surpasses any seen in a hundred years! Two hundred! And his disputation on theological subjects is rightly renowned far and wide." He paused, willing me to understand.
"Naturally," I allowed, "with so many interests it must be difficult to treat more mundane matters with equal consideration. By necessity, some pursuits will prosper while others languish."
"Sadly, that is the way of things completely," agreed Farouk. "Still, God is good. Our khalifa is blessed with a brother who has made it his duty to shoulder the affairs of state to which, by necessity, the busy khalifa cannot address himself."
"It seems a splendid arrangement," I observed, "and one which allows both men to fully devote themselves to the pursuits for which they are best suited."
"By Allah!" cried Farouk. "You have grasped the truth entirely."
"Even so, I do not see why this should cause Amir Sadiq undue concern. It seems to me he could direct to either man those matters which concern him, sparing the other needless worry."
"Alas," replied Farouk sadly, "it is not so simple as that. You see, although he is the khalifa's brother, Abu Ahmad is not entitled to wield the authority he, from time to time, must necessarily assume.
"I see how that would make Abu's position somewhat delicate."
"Amir Sadiq is the last in a long and illustrious line of Sarazen princes and is pledged at birth to serve only the khalifa, and him alone. His loyalty must remain forever beyond the taint of suspicion."
"Of course."
"If even the most insignificant breath of a word hinting that the amir entertained a divided loyalty were to reach the khalifa, Sadiq's death would follow as the night does the day."
"That swiftly?" I mused.
"That swiftly," agreed Farouk, "yet not so rapidly that he would not have leisure to witness the bloody executions of his wives and children, and all his household before his own eyes were put out and he himself was impaled and his head carved off with a dull blade."
"Loyalty is a virtue ever in short supply," I agreed.
"As you are a foreigner," Farouk remarked, "you cannot know how we have suffered under the mad khalifas of recent years. I could tell you tales to induce nightmares. Believe me, it is in everyone's best interest that al'Mutamid is allowed to pursue his poetry in peace."
"I believe you, Farouk."
"As you are a foreigner," the physician repeated, "you cannot know that an ugly rebellion has shaken the khalifa's domain to its very foundations. Abu Ahmad and the khalifa's army are even now engaged in vicious warfare in Basrah-that is in the far south. I believe Prince Abu will eventually quench the flames of rebellion, but for now the rebel forces grow ever stronger, more brazen and brutal; their attacks are increasingly bothersome. In one incident alone more than thirty thousand died. The rebels rushed into the city at midday and slaughtered people at their prayers; the blood of the faithful flowed knee deep in the mosqs." Farouk paused, his head weaving back and forth sorrowfully. "A most shocking tragedy, and merely one of many. This war is a disease that must run its course; I fear it will get worse before it gets better."
"I see," I replied slowly. Indeed, I perceived full well what Farouk was telling me. The caliph was little more than an impotent idler, content to spend his time writing poems and disputing theology, leaving brother Abu to rule in his stead. The southern rebellion now occupied the caliph's army-which is why peace with the emperor of Byzantium was so important to the Sarazens just now. If these facts were known to the Byzantines, I wondered, would Basil remain content with his peace treaty?
"Perhaps," I suggested, turning to another subject on my mind, "you might offer me your thoughts on the Armenians. I know nothing of them, and my views may well be clouded by recent events."
"Ah," replied Farouk, glancing around quickly, "for that I would need to gather my thoughts. Come, I will take you back to your room." He rose and we began following another pathway. "It is no secret," he began once we were moving again, "that the Armenians came to us seeking refuge from the wicked persecutions practised upon them by unenlightened emperors in the west-refuge which the Arab lords were happy to grant as the Armenians asked nothing save to be left alone to practise their peculiar religion. In return for safety and tolerance, they vowed to regard the enemies of the khalifa as their own, and to fight shoulder-to-shoulder with their Sarazen brothers. This they have done ever since.
"But in recent years, they have grown, shall we say, discontented?" Farouk's glance searched the nearby shadows. "It has been suggested that they no longer feel the protection of the khalifa adequate reparation for their travails."
"Perhaps they believe peace between the Sarazens and the Byzantines threatens the safety they have previously enjoyed."
