Indeed they are, Wali al-Din.”
“God Almighty has said, ‘Do not come to prayer in a state of drunkenness.’ In my view jihad is a form of prayer. Prepare as much force and string of horse for them as you can. God forbid that such preparations involve carousing and head-bashing amid the vats of the mother of all evils. I am well aware, of course, that the army judge and the infantry commanders have a very low opinion of judges who follow the orthodox line. But, for heaven’s sake, Yashbak, tell me what they’re going to do! How are they going to succeed against the Tatar armies marching toward them from Jabal al-Shaykh and the West? Tell me, please, how is wine drinking supposed to help them when they find themselves in skirmishes against the enemy or making preparations for a great victory?”
Yashbak was a little taken aback. “Wali al-Din,” he said, feeling the need to defend himself, “you know me well enough, so you’re already aware of what my answers will be. You know that I’m not in charge of the war, but rather responsible for giving the sultan advice and counsel. I’m trying to reconcile the conflicting views of the commanders and amirs. I do whatever I can. For example, I was one of the minority who favored digging trenches around the approaches to Damascus; I also joined them in pushing the sultan to order the cavalry contingents to attack the Mongols at some particularly dangerous spots. And I’ve done other things too, but there’s no need for me to boast. But there are also many people working against me here, and they have Sultan Faraj’s ear too. I’ve managed to make sure that most major government officials came with us to Damascus; that way there would be no scope for conspiracy back in Cairo. However, now they’re all indeed here, and doing their level best to bring me down by blackening my name with the sultan. That’s the way war is, Wali al-Din. We need men like Qutuz, Baybars, and Barquq, God’s mercy on them all. But what we have is Barquq’s young son. .”
Burhan al-Din seized on these words, as though they had given him a golden opportunity to say what he wanted. “The problem with the sultan is not that he’s only thirteen years old,” he said, “but that he’s so irreligious. I’m well aware that a bottle of wine is never far from his side as he moves from the Citadel, to the square of the Dome of Yalbugha, to the Ablaq Palace. I’m well aware that he’s so drunk that his cheeks are already on fire before he ever takes a look at the military situation or issues any orders. Small wonder then if the army asks for wine vats to be opened, since people usually follow the lead of their monarchs — as the saying goes.”
‘Abd al-Rahman rubbed his hands together in despair. “That’s what has led me to ignore all news about army quarters and the sultan’s personal situation! We judges have the right to know about goings-on, Yashbak. Otherwise, how are we supposed to issue opinions and give wise counsel?”
“The fact that al-Nasir Faraj and his retainers are drunk is no secret to anyone, Wali al-Din. He’s permanently drunk. I get the impression that it serves to calm him down, since he seems constantly terrorized by the thought of being murdered, either by the Mongols or else the amirs who are constantly intriguing against him. I’m scared to death of these conspirators and agent provocateurs who keep slinking away from us here in Damascus and going back to Cairo. If the sultan sees that the number of people withdrawing is getting any larger, I think it’s very likely that he’ll decide to return to his capital city.”
“Why doesn’t he stop them going back to Cairo?”
“It’s a vicious circle. Amirs convince the sultan that there’s a conspiracy against him in Cairo, the seat of his power. So he allows them to leave, and they themselves then become the leaders of the rebellion.”
For the first time ‘Abd al-Rahman was now convinced, on the basis of the sincere tone in Yashbak’s voice, that Timur would emerge the winner in the war against the Mamluk forces, whether he actually went to war or not. He asked Yashbak what new information there was about the Mongols.
“Reliable information only comes in fits and starts,” he said. “What we know suggests that his army is no larger than ours in either equipment or size, although he does have an elephant brigade and ballistas. His agents inside the city are spreading all sorts of false information: they’re saying, for example, that Timur plans to drown Damascus in a hail of incendiary bombs projected by long-distance catapults that only he possesses. The strange thing is that, when these agents are captured, they still stick to their story even if they’re being tortured or threatened with death. We have twenty agents of our own, but that’s all. No other Mamluk would volunteer for the job even disguised as monks or dervishes. Even when we tried to dragoon some of them, they threatened to defect and kill themselves before Timur’s elephants tore them apart.”
Burhan al-Din listened to Yashbak’s report with considerable interest. “From your report,” he said once Yashbak had finished, “I gather that the Mongol noose is tightening around our neck. I was preparing a whole series of fiery sermons to deliver to the Mamluk brigades in which I preach a spirit of courageous advance rather than sitting still, waging jihad instead of sitting on our hands. I was going to invoke Qur’anic verses and Prophetic hadith that would rouse men to action. But what’s the use of such talk when corruption has sapped away all notion of traditional bravery and morale has sunk to the lowest possible level?”
“In spite of everything, dear friend, it’s still the religious scholars’ duty to inspire hope in people.”
“Yes, and it’s the duty of commanders and soldiers to fulfill their pledge to use every means to defend people. What’s the use of an army that’s crippled by fear and dissent? And what about generals who don’t know the first thing about propaganda warfare? ‘War is deceit,’ as the Lord of Mankind put it. Timur operates on that principle in dealing with states and generals; he’s both pioneer and genius in its application, and he uses it in spades! Yashbak, it’s up to you and your colleagues to counteract his tactics and reverse the tide. If not, then heaven help Damascus, the Salihiya, and the Great Umawi Mosque in the face of Tatar terrors. The rivers of the city will run red with the blood of defenseless civilians, and the entire city will be pillaged and destroyed just as Aleppo and other cities were earlier. As the saying goes, whoever issues a warning is excused.”
Yashbak now stood up, embraced the two judges, and spoke to them both before departing. “Waiting for deliverance from God,” he said, “is a kind of workship. I’m keeping my eye on Aqbay and the infantry commanders. Everything is not lost, at least, not yet.”
‘Abd al-Rahman and Burhan al-Din were left facing each other, each one of them feeling a strong pull toward the other. A very special kind of mutual affection had developed between the two of them, and that made them want to spend more time in each other’s company, if only to recompense for the occasions they had missed before. They prayed the noon prayer together, then sat down to eat lunch and chat. ‘Abd al-Rahman learned that his Hanbali colleague was married to two women and had two children. He was astonished to learn that he had read the Introduction to History and many sections of The Book of Exemplary Lessons and that he knew Persian, Turkish, and even Greek well. What amazed him more than anything was the way Burhan al-Din was able to talk about schools of jurisprudence, Arabic poetry, biographies of kings, and national histories. It almost seemed as if he made a regular habit of strolling amid the bowers and meadows of knowledge without let or hindrance. In his discussions of a wide variety of topics with ‘Abd al-Rahman he showed a great deal of critical acumen and good taste, and occasionally a truly exceptional degree of modesty. Whenever ‘Abd al-Rahman chose to express his admiration, he would respond with statements like, “What God has taught me, Wali al-Din, is just a small part of the veritable flood of your own wisdom.”