The Wolf and the Snake (English version)

Chapter 24

Egypt, on the banks of the Nile, Pharescour, 1250

Touran Shah has planned a sumptuous banquet on the Nile to celebrate his victory over King Louis.

That of his Mameluke emirs!

The sultan's boat sails slowly on the Great River. He stands in his ceremonial vestments while his soldiers advance along the bank.

I'm curled up to the other end of the boat.

Recently, the insane man beat me so badly that he was afraid of his violence. Chajar felt that the seriousness of my condition required a physician. He bandaged my wounds without any emotion in front of his master's work.

I was lucky.

Only two broken ribs, a twisted wrist, not to mention my battered face!

I probably owe my life to Chajar.

She begged the Sultan to give her the key to my room to avoid another outbreak of rage. But he got very drunk then pounded on my door all night long, his arms full of gifts to make amends. Fortunately, Chajar didn't open the door, and I could rest for a few days.

A lightweight scarf warms my shoulders, barely concealing a dress of a golden hue as shimmering as the Nile waters. A heavy bracelet adorns my only able-bodied wrist, engravings made with black lines contrast with enamels and precious stones.

It's one of the gifts offered by Touran Shah with the obligation to wear it indeed.

First, this bastard whined that the separation imposed by Chajar had grieved him badly. Then he gazed at me and looked like a hungry man seeing a feast.

It's in Pharescour that the festivities are held. Touran Shah ordered the construction of a high tower and a huge wooden pavilion on the Nile. The pavilion is entirely covered with hand-painted fabrics. Our army camped here not so long ago. I'm overwhelmed by the pain of returning to this place when my beloved lord, our sovereign, and his knights are prisoners of a miserable monster without any fighting ability.

Touran Shah is the ruler of Egypt, this so ancient kingdom. His Mamelukes have defeated the best warriors in the world. I think of all those who died, ten thousand or twenty thousand, no one will know the number. We must also consider many slaves like me, used at the goodwill of the victors.

Long tables have been set for the banquet. Touran Shah is obsessed with past, present, and future conspiracies. So except for the courtiers who had come with him from Anatolia, all the emirs must drop their weapons outside before entering a beautiful private space. The sultan waited until the guests were installed before showing up with me.

My gown runs over my lean body like waves, and the light of torches accentuates my golden hair and the pallor in my face.

The madman has almost emptied a whole jug of wine. I have admired for a long time the beautiful object decorated with lotus flowers all curves and arabesques.

I ignore all concupiscent looks around me. I'm sitting at the main table, and guards are posted behind the sultan and me. The Mameluke emirs are seated on the side. I see Altan consuming me with his eyes instead of honoring the food. Aurel sometimes has this desperate way of staring at me, as if his life depended on a smile or just a gesture showing that I know how precious I remain to him. Altan is joined by Qalawun, Qutuz, and of course, Baibars.

The atmosphere is suspiciously quiet and tense. We could hear a grasshopper landing on one of the beautiful dishes right in front of me. During a banquet, the tables are always magnificently decorated. To whet the appetite and catch the eye of the guests or a poor slave. The one who is disgusted by everything, knowing she will end up a corpse.