Yusuf began to inch his way along the ledge. The trembling was growing worse, and after only a few feet he stopped to keep himself from falling, his fingers digging into the thin cracks between the stones. Still the shaking worsened. To his right, a section of the ledge, where he had stood only moments before, buckled and fell away, dropping down the sheer slope. Yusuf felt the earth roll under him, and to his left, a stretch of wall ten feet wide shook and then collapsed outwards, spilling stones and a screaming eunuch guard into the void. The man’s cry was cut short as he hit the rocks below.
Yusuf managed to edge forwards and swing through the gap opened up in the wall. He found himself in a hallway and crossed to the far side, where he leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. Five eunuch guards rushed by, pulling two women in nightgowns after them. Not one of them even looked at Yusuf as they sprinted past and rounded a corner further down the hall. There was a deafening rumble and the corridor filled with dust as the ceiling in the hallway to the right collapsed. Yusuf pushed away from the wall and ran in the opposite direction, after the guards. He was rounding the corner when he collided with the eunuch, Gumushtagin. The two men staggered back, staring at one another in surprise.
‘Yusuf!’ Gumushtagin exclaimed. ‘What are you doing in the harem?’
‘I – I wanted to make sure that our lord was safe.’
Gumushtagin’s eyes narrowed as he took in Yusuf’s lack of clothing. ‘You came straight from your room?’ Yusuf nodded. ‘You lie,’ the eunuch hissed. ‘The path across the palace is blocked. There is no way through.’
Yusuf opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Gumushtagin sneered. ‘The Honourable Emir Yusuf – our lord will be most interested to hear what you were doing in his harem.’
Just then, the floor lurched beneath them, knocking both of them to the ground. The wall to their right collapsed outwards to reveal the night sky. The floor buckled and tilted sharply, sending them both sliding towards the gap. As his feet slid out into space, Yusuf managed to grab hold of a piece of the wall that still stood. With his other hand, he grabbed Gumushtagin’s wrist as the eunuch slid past into the void. Yusuf strained to hold on to the eunuch as he dangled over the rocks far below.
‘Don’t drop me!’ Gumushtagin squealed. ‘Don’t drop me!’
The jagged stone that Yusuf held to keep from falling was cutting into his fingers, and Gumushtagin’s wrist was slowly slipping through his hand. ‘Hold on to me!’ Yusuf shouted, and the eunuch locked his free hand around Yusuf’s wrist. Gritting his teeth, Yusuf managed to pull Gumushtagin up until he could grab hold of a section of the wall. Then, slipping his fingers into the cracks in the broken floor, Yusuf crawled up to a flat section. He reached back and pulled Gumushtagin up after him. The two lay there, gasping.
Again, the floor began to roll beneath them. Yusuf got to his feet. ‘It’s not safe here. We must get out of the palace.’ He helped Gumushtagin up, and they made their way through corridors littered with fallen stones. The stairs leading to the ground floor were still intact. They hurried down, through the rubblestrewn entrance hall and out into the night. Yusuf looked back. Jagged holes had appeared in the walls of the palace, and to the left, an entire wing had collapsed.
He turned around. A crowd had gathered near a gap in the wall, where a section some twenty yards wide had fallen outwards. Yusuf started that way when Gumushtagin grabbed his arm. ‘You saved my life. I will not tell Nur ad-Din what I saw tonight.’ Yusuf nodded and turned to go, but Gumushtagin did not release him. He leaned close. ‘I will say nothing, but I will not forget. You ruined my plans for Tell Bashir, Yusuf. If you cross me again, then I will tell Nur ad-Din what I know.’ He released Yusuf. ‘I will be watching you.’
‘I understand.’ Yusuf hurried on and found Asimat on the edge of the crowd, standing safe beside Nur ad- Din. ‘My lord,’ Yusuf said and bowed. ‘Praise Allah, you are safe.’
The king had a far-off look in his eye. He did not appear to see or hear Yusuf. ‘Allah has sent us a message,’ he murmured. ‘He is angry with me. We must attack. We must attack.’
‘Go,’ Asimat told Yusuf. ‘Our lord is not well. I will tend to him.’
Yusuf waded into the crowd, looking for Faridah. Everywhere, servants and mamluks from the palace were on their knees wailing. Others hurried from person to person, looking for friends or loved ones. Yusuf found Faridah sitting with her head down and her knees drawn up to her chest. She was covered in grey dust. Qaraqush knelt beside her.
‘Faridah!’ Yusuf cried. ‘Thank Allah you are well.’
She looked up. The right side of her face was covered in blood. Her eyes widened in disbelief. ‘Yusuf,’ she whispered as tears came to her eyes. ‘You’re alive!’ He knelt down and embraced her. Yusuf could feel her shaking as she sobbed against his shoulder.
‘I found her in the rubble,’ Qaraqush told him. ‘She was lucky to survive.’
‘Have you seen John?’ Yusuf asked.
Qaraqush hung his head. ‘No. No one has.’
Yusuf nodded. He felt a pain in his chest as he clutched Faridah to him. Tears began to form in his eyes, and he released her. He would not let his men see him cry. He turned away and went to look out past the gap in the wall. The scene in the town below was hellish. Fires had spread, filling the air with black smoke and illuminating entire city blocks that had collapsed into rubble. Yusuf looked to the street where Khaldun’s house had stood. He could not see the house amidst the rubble and clouds of smoke.
‘Zimat,’ he whispered.
Yusuf led Qaraqush and a dozen mamluks into the city, dodging past debris. The facade of the great mosque had collapsed outwards, spilling massive stones into the main square. A fire raged in the shattered remains of the mosque. Yusuf passed a soot-covered imam who was tearing at his grey beard and shouting repeatedly, ‘Allah has forsaken us! Allah has forsaken us!’
Yusuf turned down a crowded side street. Some men and women were weeping openly. Others stood dumbstruck as they stared at the ruins of their homes. Here and there, men dug frantically through the rubble. Yusuf reached the end of the street and stepped past the broken gate to Khaldun’s street. There were fewer people here, and the air was thick with choking black smoke. He passed a young girl covered in grey dust, stumbling down the centre of the street and calling loudly for her mother. Yusuf crawled over a pile of rubble that had spilled into the street from a collapsed building and came to the wall around Khaldun’s home. The wall still stood, lit brightly by a fire blazing across the street. A eunuch guard sat in the open gateway, his head cradled in his hands. As Yusuf approached, he saw that the man’s scalp was wet with blood.
‘Where is my sister, Zimat?’ Yusuf asked. The guard looked at him dumbly. ‘Khaldun, your master. The boy Ubadah. Where are they?’ The guard turned away, shaking his head. Beyond him, Yusuf could see that the home had collapsed into a pile of stones, wooden beams poking out here and there. Yusuf hurried through the gate, crawling on to the ruins. ‘Zimat!’ he called out. ‘Khaldun!’ He turned back to where Qaraqush and his men were waiting in the street. ‘Search the rubble. Find them!’
Yusuf’s men spread out across the remains of the house, and he crawled forward over the debris. He had scrambled far ahead of his men when he heard a sound, like the mewing of a cat. It came from a large mound of rubble just ahead of him. Yusuf put his ear against the mound. It was no cat that he had heard; it was a woman crying out, her voice muffled by the rubble. Hurriedly, Yusuf began to pull aside debris. The crying grew louder. He pulled another stone aside and could see through a crack into a space beneath the pile of rubble. ‘Zimat!’ he called into the crack.
‘I am here,’ she called back weakly.
‘Hold on! I’m coming.’ Yusuf was frantically pulling stones away. He could see Ubadah, lying motionless, and Zimat’s arms holding him. They were huddled in a narrow space in the rubble. He pulled another stone aside, and he could see Zimat’s face. He grabbed a large, flat rock and straining, rolled it aside. Zimat lay before him, curled around Ubadah. Over them, shielding them both, crouched John. He was covered in dust, and blood ran from the back of his head. He looked up at Yusuf, and their eyes met.
Yusuf took a step back, his face pale. He blinked in disbelief. ‘John?’ he murmured. ‘What are you-’ He stopped as he realized what he was seeing. The blood began to pound in his temples. ‘What is this?’ he whispered.
Behind him, he could hear Qaraqush shouting: ‘My lord, did you find something?’ Yusuf turned to see the mamluk some twenty yards off, making his way towards them.
Yusuf turned back to John, who had extricated himself from the rubble. He had taken the boy from Zimat and was helping her up. ‘You must go,’ Yusuf hissed at John. He took Ubadah from him. ‘Go!’
John nodded and scrambled away, around the pile of rubble. Yusuf put his head to Ubadah’s chest and
