I told him rapidly of all I had learned-of the poison in the fruit, of the fatwa, of Mustafa ben-Nakir’s plan, and of his brotherhood that stood ready to give Ibrahim the Grand Master their support.
“All is in readiness and nothing remains for you to do but to grasp the rudder of events. Strike first! Remember that where you are concerned the Sultan is nothing but an assassin. You eat alone together, and you are certainly stronger than he. You can take no weapon with you, but you can strangle him with the chain of the square seal. No one will suspect that of being the means of death, however carefully they search your clothes. But first strike him a heavy blow on the temple to keep him quiet. Be swift and bold and all will go well. Dominion of the empire awaits you-dominion perhaps of the whole world!”
He listened to me quietly and as if I were telling him some familiar tale. When I had finished, he said softly, “So, Michael el-Hakim, you’re a traitor after all. But why did you not poison me, when you had so good an opportunity, or at least rob me? But I have had the money counted and none is missing. Truly Allah’s creatures are strange in their diversity. There, do not weep! I would not for the world distress my only friend.”
He patted me lightly on the cheek with his warm hand and invited me to sit at his right side; he poured wine for me into a golden goblet and chose for me the best pieces from a dish before him, as if I had been an honored guest. Having calmed me he went on, “You may be my friend, yet you do not know me. I have long considered all you suggest, and the plan in itself is excellent. Yet there is one drawback. Myself. No one knows this but the Sultan, and he showed his knowledge of it in giving me his seal. In his heart he knows that our friendship binds me closer than iron fetters. No, I shall not murder him. Since his youth he has been a melancholy man, and sorrow will keep him even closer company when I am gone. Henceforth terror will rule the Seraglio-and all because of the Russian. Deeply, deeply do I pity him. He will be the loneliest man in all the Empire.
“You once said that a man must be loyal to at least one creature on earth. If you, then why not I? Man is greater than statecraft, honor, wealth, and power, though many will not see this. But let us be honest and admit that just as your loyalty to me is no more than loyalty to yourself, so is my loyalty to the Sultan nothing but loyalty to a certain poor Ibrahim who sits at his side, trying to persuade himself that he is a true man. The hour of parting is at hand, and we may doff our masks.”
For a long time we sat in silence until no doubt he wearied of my company, for he said politely, “If indeed you do not mean to run away, do me one last service and have my body buried decentiy, after the Moslem fashion.”
I suspect that he made me this last request from sheer courtesy, to show his faith in me, for he can have cared little what became of his remains. But I promised to do as he asked and kissed his hand and shoulder in farewell. Thus I parted forever from the most notable and singular of all the men I have met, a greater man than either the Emperor or the Sultan.
When I emerged from the servants’ entrance I found Andy sitting in the street in the moonlight, singing a scurrilous German song. I said, “This is Ramadan, my dear Andy. Let us go to the great mosque to pray.”
As with slippers in hand we stepped through the great copper gates and in among the porphyry pillars, peace entered my heart as softly and gently as my bare feet sank into the rich carpets on the floor. Only a few lamps were burning, and above them the vast dome soared up like the night sky.
The mosque was empty, but soon the feast of Bairam would come, when on the last night of Ramadan the hundred lamps would burn, the gilded texts would gleam from the giant medallions, and tens of thousands of Moslems would crowd under the great dome to hear the Koran read aloud from the throne of the Imams. Sultan Suleiman himself would be present, and behind the golden grille the ladies of the harem would follow the ceremonial, among them the devout Sultana Khurrem with Giulia at her side. But I should not share in the rejoicing. Along subterranean conduits my headless body would be sluggishly moving toward the Marmara.
Beneath a solitary lamp I pressed my forehead to the soft rug, rose, and once more prostrated myself before the face of Allah. But above all I directed my prayers to the incorruptible judge within myself, begging for strength to leave my imprisoning body without fear.
The crescent moon was dipping into cloud as the boat touched our landing stage and we stepped ashore. Giulia had not returned, nor was the skulking Alberto to be seen. Mustafa ben-Nakir still lay in profound slumber on my bed. I resolved to take advantage of the moment and said to Andy, “I want to speak to you seriously, so don’t interrupt me with foolish questions. Tomorrow, the next day, or at latest in three days’ time I shall be a dead man. As I am a slave of the Sultan’s, my house and possessions revert to him, though through the favor she enjoys Giulia may be able to secure a lawful settlement. She is a free woman. And you, Andy, are a free man; I have seen to that. Your share of Muley-Hassan’s diamonds is in my care and after my death you’re to have my share, too. No one knows of these stones. Now is our chance to bury them in the garden. After my death, after the auction that will be held here, and when I have been quite forgotten-that will be at most a week, if I know the Seraglio-you can dig them up and sell the smallest of them to a reliable Jew for your journey money. I will give you his name later. The wisest thing you can do is to go to Egypt and seek the protection of the good eunuch Suleiman. You can either sail with him to India or, if he advises it, return to Venice and the Christian countries. You would do best to leave this house early tomorrow and stay for the time with the dervishes, for Moslems treat their holy men and other eccentrics well and do not persecute them.”
Andy stared at me with an expressionless face. Then sighing deeply he said, “Allah truly is the one God, though at times I have doubted his sanity, peace be with him. I hear and I obey, and will pack up and go to Egypt if need be. But there’s a time for everything and I shall not give up until I have seen your head fall with my own eyes. No, I shall not leave you, though they should crack my skull for it-if they can.”
I rebuked him; I sought with both harsh and gentle words to persuade him. But he was obdurate, and I could do nothing but thank him irritably for his friendship and then hurry down with him to bury the diamonds.
By the time we returned from this task, one could distinguish a black thread from a white, and a new day in Ramadan was beginning. Regardless of the sacred laws we went at once to rest, and with the peace of renunciation in my heart I sank into a profound slumber. I lay thus until roused by Mustafa ben-Nakir, who hung over me with tousled hair and his lionskin askew over his shoulders. Rising quickly I washed and dressed without a word, and at the sight of my face he too held his peace. Then unwilling to keep him longer in suspense I told him of what had passed.
As I spoke his face grew ever darker, though like a wise man he allowed no needless ejaculation to escape his lips-a circumstance greatly to his credit, for who else could have listened without cursing to the story of the crazed obstinacy with which the Grand Vizier had thrust aside our helping hands? When I had ended, Mustafa ben- Nakir began in his turn to wash himself, dye his hands, and anoint his head.
“Grand Vizier Ibrahim has condemned himself,” he said at last. “It is easy to be mistaken in people. But now both your neck and mine are in danger, and no one will thank us for following Ibrahim to his death like sheep. Let us save our skins and cleanse ourselves from blame by testifying against him. No further harm can come to him through that, since the Sultan has already pronounced his doom by appealing to the Mufti.”