Ramadan Kareem to all Egyptian Chronicles readers.
Before we continue our tale and discover what happened to our third prince on the road from which there is no return, after knowing what happened to his eldest brothers, it is time for our usual pre-tale chitchat.
*Spoiler alert*
Unlike the previous two nights, tonight we will travel to a city that is very real: the legendary Samarkand.
Located in modern-day Uzbekistan, Samarkand was founded under the name Afrasiyab (circa the 7th or 8th century BCE, its location placing it at the heart of the famous Silk Road.
After the Arab conquest in the early 8th century, Samarkand blossomed into one of the greatest cities of Transoxiana (Ma Wara’ al-Nahr).
Medieval geographers, such as the legendary Al-Muqaddasi, described it as a wealthy, cultivated, and beautifully planned city—a 10th-century oasis of gardens, canals, and monumental walls.
However, Samarkand truly became a "Jewel of the East" in the late 14th century when the conqueror Timur (Tamerlane) made it his imperial capital. Timur transformed the city by bringing architects and artisans from Persia, India, Anatolia, and Syria. Together, they built massive, blue-tiled monuments that defined the Timurid style.
In Persian poetry and later storytelling, Samarkand became a universal symbol of beauty and unattainable splendor.
It appears in the Shahnameh and naturally found its way into the tales of the One Thousand and One Nights.
Today, the city is recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage site, officially titled "Samarkand – Crossroads of Cultures."
Now, without further delay, I present the sixth episode of our story—The Tale of Sajur and his sons, or the 200th night of One Thousand and One Nights, as broadcast by the Egyptian State Radio.
Ep. 6 “The road of which there is no return”
And when it was the Two Hundredth Night, and the night that followed, King Shahryar took his seat as on the evening before. Shahrazad came at the appointed hour, advanced before him, and bowed low between his hands. Then she began to recount and to relate.
Shahrazad: It has reached me, O fortunate King, wise in judgment and firm in resolve, that when Prince Nairuz — the second brother — had finished telling of his journey; how he entered the City of Brass; how its people set him upon the throne; how they would have bound him by ancient law to wed their princess; and how Prince Kaykawus rescued him and gave him the Carpet of the Wind, upon which he flew through the air and cleft the vast distances until he reached the khan at the appointed hour — when he had ended his tale and displayed his wondrous gift, the third brother, Ma‘zuz, stepped forward.
His brothers leaned toward him, seized with curiosity and astonishment, and he began to speak.
“You speak of marvels,” said Ma‘zuz, “and your gifts are strange indeed — one has brought the spectacles, and the other the Wind-Carpet. Yet beside my gift, theirs are but trifles.”
“I journeyed long,” he said, “through days and nights uncounted, until I came to the city of Samarkand. There I remained many days, wandering through its markets in search of a wonder worthy of my cousin’s hand. But nowhere did I find a gift rare enough.
“I despaired and returned one night to my lodging. In my sleep, I dreamed that thieves entered upon me.”
They seized him and bound him — yet in the dream one of them spoke gently:
“Do not grieve, Ma‘zuz. You seek a gift. We shall show you one.”
They told him of a temple where stood an old man crying out that he sold treasure for dust.
“In his hand,” they said, “is a single apple, priced at twelve purses of gold.”
“Six hundred dinars for one apple?” cried Ma‘zuz in disbelief.
“Do you know what that apple is?” they answered. “It is the cure of the sick — a fragrance of healing sealed within its flesh.”
At dawn, he went forth and found the man calling:
“Who will buy the precious for the price of earth? An apple for twelve purses!”
Ma‘zuz paid the price without hesitation.
And thus he obtained the apple whose scent restores the dying and whose breath recalls the fading soul.
With it in his possession, he travelled two months until he reached his brothers at the appointed hour.
When he had finished, Firuz said:
“And have you brought this apple with you?”
“I have.”
Nairuz said proudly, “The Carpet of the Wind is swifter than wind itself.”
Firuz declared, “The ivory spectacles surpass all.”
They debated — until Ma‘zuz said:
“Let us test them.”
Firuz lifted the enchanted spectacles and said:
“Look within and think upon whom you will.”
Ma‘zuz took them and whispered:
“Amira…”
His face blanched.
“She is dying.”
Firuz looked — and saw mourners gathered round her couch.
Nairuz looked — and saw that death hovered near.
Ma‘zuz cried out:
“The apple! I bear her cure!”
Nairuz answered gravely:
“What use the apple, if by the time we arrive she has lain two weeks in the grave?”
Then Firuz struck his hand upon his brow.
“Have you forgotten? The Carpet of the Wind!”
Without further word the three mounted the carpet together.
“Fly!” they commanded.
It rose beneath them and cleft the air, folding distance upon itself, until it descended upon the roof of their father’s palace.
They hastened down, the apple in Ma‘zuz’s hand, and rushed to their father’s chamber.
And when he beheld them—
And before her tale was complete, the dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent until another night.
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