Ramadan Kareem to all Egyptian Chronicles readers.
Tonight, we will know what the Dervish in the chest will bring to the al-Nu'man brothers' camp
Last night, we spoke about how Storm Breaker in the original One Thousand and One Nights was called Shawahy zat al-Dawahy—Shawahy of many schemes.
Tonight, we explore her because she stands as one of the most powerful and wicked female figures in the Nights, to the point that she becomes a symbol of evil itself.
Shawahy is not your typical Queen Mother. In the version of the Nights I read, she is a sorceress among sorcerers—skilled in magic and deception. She is cunning, immoral, and deeply treacherous. She studies Islamic texts and travels widely, even journeying to Mecca and residing in Jerusalem in disguise, observing different religions and learning their inner workings.
She was also a bisexual woman who slept with men and women and sexually abused her granddaughter. It was among the main reasons why Abriza escaped with Sharkan.
Yes, this is one of the earliest encounters in the text with sexual abuse, incest, and same-sex relations. It is not presented erotically, but rather in a way that makes the reader despise the character.
After the tragic death of Abriza, King Hardoub—her father—seeks revenge. However, his elderly mother, Shawahy, takes it upon herself to exact vengeance without significant loss.
Her son agrees, and thus her scheme begins. She tells him, “Do not grieve. By God, I will not turn back until I kill King al-Nu’man and his sons. I will accomplish a deed that will leave even the cunning in awe, and people will speak of it across all lands.”
With cold precision, Shawahy defines her objective: to kill al-Nu’man and his sons.
She recruits a group of wise men and sets out, accompanied by great commanders and their troops, disguising them as Muslim merchants. She carries a letter from King Afridun attesting to their identity as traders from the Levant, requesting that no harm come to them, as merchants are the lifeblood of lands—not people of war or corruption.
As for herself, she dons soft white woollen garments, rubs her forehead until it appears radiant, and applies ointments that give her an almost luminous presence. She then orders her companions to beat her severely until her legs bleed beneath their restraints. Finally, she is placed in a chest among goods loaded onto mules.
In this way, she enters the lands of King al-Nu’man, disguised as an ascetic cast out by people of disbelief and tyranny.
From there, she begins executing her plan under constant scrutiny, closely watched by Byzantine commanders. Despite this, she succeeds in poisoning al-Nu’man with a slow-acting toxin and murders one of his sons through treachery, spreading corruption across the land.
In the end, the Arabs triumph over the Byzantines. Shawahy—“of many schemes”—is captured and led in humiliation to the public square.
She is forced to wear a red cap smeared with donkey dung, while a herald proclaims: “This is the fate of those who dare challenge kings and the sons of kings.”
She is then crucified at the gate of Baghdad.
One major difference in the original tale is that the one who ultimately stops Shawahy and has her arrested is al-Nu’man’s grandson—who is none other than Abriza’s own son, her great-grandson. Some versions say he is Abriza’s son with Sharkan, while others claim he is her son with al-Nu’man.
Again, I do not fully understand why Abu Fasha chose to omit this part, but dealing with a story as complex and morally charged as that of Omar al-Nu’man for a public audience must have been a real challenge.
Now, enough chit-chat.
Let us now see what is going to happen in the 109th episode of One Thousand and One Nights, as originally broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
EP.18 With Many Schemes
The One Hundred and Ninth Night
When it was the one hundred and ninth night, and the next evening had come, King Shahryar took his seat as on the previous night.
At the appointed hour Shahrazad arrived. She greeted him with the finest of salutations and began once more to continue her tale.
She said:
“I have been told, O fortunate king, wise in judgment…”
When Daw’ al-Makan brought the dervish out of the chest and saw the marks of burns upon his face, he believed them to be the signs of torture. He drew the dervish close to him with great honor, never suspecting that this so-called holy man was nothing but an impostor—
That he was, in truth, the speckled serpent, the white-haired crone, Stormbreaker, mother of King Hardoub, mistress of calamities and weaver of schemes.
Meanwhile, after the death of Hardoub, his armies had retreated behind their fortified walls and prepared to defend them. Daw’ al-Makan feared the siege might drag on, that despair might creep into the hearts of his soldiers.
So he sent for the dervish.
The dervish entered swiftly, like an arrow in flight, feigning trance and divine ecstasy, muttering to himself:
The Dervish (Stormbreaker in disguise):
Quddus… Quddus… Quddus… Quddus…
Daw’ al-Makan:
Welcome, welcome. Come closer, my father — sit beside me.
Dervish:
Leave us alone… none may sit with us…
Quddus… Quddus…
Daw’ al-Makan:
Come, holy sir, sit here.
Dervish:
Ah! You are the blessing granted to this army.
Daw’ al-Makan:
O holy one… I wish to seek your counsel.
Dervish:
Counsel may strike true, or it may fail — destiny belongs to the one destined for it. Speak, O Seeker.
Daw’ al-Makan:
O Seeker… O Seeker… permit me a word.
Dervish:
The word belongs to its speaker, and permission belongs to those who grant it. Speak, O Opener.
Daw’ al-Makan:
O Opener… I ask you to perform an istikharah for me.
Dervish:
Those who seek divine guidance speak in signs, while people remain lost in confusion… what a pity!
Daw’ al-Makan:
My spies have brought me news of the enemy behind their walls. I have learned that we cannot defeat them unless we strike at their head — their ruler.
Dervish:
Their ruler was nothing. His mother is everything. She gathered them, fortified them, and stands behind their walls. Without her, they would have surrendered long ago.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Stormbreaker… that cunning old serpent is the one raising their banner. She killed my father, abducted my mother… and today she stands against me in war.
Dervish:
What do you intend to do, my son?
Daw’ al-Makan:
My spies have revealed the positions of their forces behind the walls.
Dervish:
And how is that?
Daw’ al-Makan:
Stormbreaker believes we know the sea-facing wall is strong, while the mountain side is weak. So she has stationed all her forces on the western side, near the mountains. The sea side she has left to the walls and the water.
And you know, holy sir, that walls without soldiers cannot hold back an army.
Dervish:
Is that the wisdom of dervishes… or does such wisdom fail?
Daw’ al-Makan:
How could it fail? I have already resolved — tomorrow at dawn, I will attack from the sea.
Dervish:
You abandon the weak side… and attack the strong?
Daw’ al-Makan:
There are no soldiers there at all! I do not seek your advice — I want you to perform the istikharah.
Dervish:
Those who seek divine guidance receive only signs. Delay your attack. Let me sleep this night and see what the unseen masters reveal to me. Tomorrow I will tell you what I have seen.
Now… extend your hand. Do not look at me.
Daw’ al-Makan:
What is this, holy sir?
Dervish:
An oath… bound with words. Read it before you sleep, and what you are to see will come to you in your dream.
Do not leave your tent tonight.
Say: Ya Hadi “O Divine Calmer…”
Daw’ al-Makan:
Ya Hadi , Ya Hadi , Ya Hadi…
And the dervish leaves Daw’ al-Makan’s tent and quietly makes his way to the wounded Sharkan’s tent while everyone is asleep.
The Dervish (Stormbreaker in disguise):
Quddus… Quddus… Quddus…
Sharkan (weak, wounded):
Holy sir… what brings you here in the depth of night?
Dervish:
What brings me in the depth of night…
is the long sorrow, and the heavy burden…
May God settle your debts, steady your faith, and strengthen your certainty…
Sharkan:
What beautiful words, holy sir…
Dervish:
Do you not recognize me?
Sharkan:
How could I not, holy sir? May God reward you — you came at midnight to comfort me. Tell me a story… ease my heart.
Dervish:
Shall I comfort you… or amuse myself with you?
Sharkan:
As you please.
Dervish:
Then listen…
Once upon a time, there was a king whose life was consumed by women… until he wronged the daughter of another king.
That girl had a grandmother known for cunning and severity. When the news reached her, she took five maidens and went to that king.
The moment he saw them, his mind was lost. She toyed with him — starving him, feeding him, making him forget, then making him remember… until at last she gave him a deadly poison.
Sharkan:
I know this story!
Dervish:
Then hear its ending…
The king’s sons rose to avenge their father. They stormed the land, set it ablaze, and washed away their shame with blood.
Sharkan:
That is our story, holy sir!
Dervish:
Do not interrupt…
They entered the land, killed the tyrant king, and burned the heart of his mother with grief — for him… and for his daughter.
Tell me… what does a mother do when her heart burns for her son… and her grandson?
Sharkan (growing alert despite his wounds):
What does she do…?
Dervish:
She changes her form… disfigures her face… and comes to them… disguised as a dervish.
Sharkan:
What?! A dervish?
Dervish:
Yes… a dervish…
Sharkan:
You…? You?!
Stormbreaker (in her true voice):
Ha… ha… ha…
I am Stormbreaker!
Mother of King Hardoub!
The old crone… the grandmother of Abriza!
The wheel has turned… and the hour of vengeance has come.
Sharkan lies before me — weak, alone, with no guards and no allies.
Now… I will kill you.
Sharkan:
Your son tried to kill me treacherously on the battlefield…
and you would kill me treacherously while I lie wounded?
Stormbreaker:
“Now I will finish you.
Look well at this dagger…
And tomorrow, I will finish your brother as well.
In your final moments, I will tell you what awaits him — so that you die in anguish.
Your brother summoned me to perform istikharah. He intends to attack from the sea, believing there are no soldiers there…
But I will send word to my armies. They will shift their forces and trap his troops between the walls and the waters.
I delayed him until morning… so I could kill you first… and send my message.”
At that very moment, while Stormbreaker spoke and circled the wounded Sharkan in the darkness of the tent, Karkoub approached outside, searching for his sword.
Karkoub:
What… what is this? The tent door is open…
He moves closer, peering inside.
What is this? The dervish?!
I’ll go in quietly…
He slips inside unnoticed as Stormbreaker continues speaking.
Karkoub (whispering):
I’m shaking with fear… but there is my sword…
He takes it quietly.
Sharkan:
You are a demon…
Stormbreaker:
Even demons cannot match me.
Now you see the truth of your “holy dervish.”
Sharkan:
But I never wronged you myself.
Stormbreaker:
It does not matter.
Sharkan:
I who defeated kings… shall I die on my bed?
Stormbreaker:
I do not care.
Say your last prayers… surrender your soul…
As she raises her dagger—
Stormbreaker:
Ahhh—! My blood… my son… the blood of my granddaughter… O Avenger—!
Karkoub strikes with his sword despite his fear.
Stormbreaker:
Ahh…!
She falls… and dies.
Karkoub:
I killed him! I killed the dervish!
Sharkan:
You are mistaken… that was no dervish.
That was Stormbreaker, mother of King Hardoub.
Karkoub:
By God… I killed her?!
Sharkan:
And saved us from her evil.
She killed my father… and would have killed me. Your coming saved my life.
And more than that — she had deceived the entire army!
Bring my brother… I must tell him everything.
At once, Karkoub hurried out and went to Daw’ al-Makan. When Daw’ al-Makan heard the news, he rushed to his brother’s tent.
The two brothers were reunited.
Then Karkoub stepped forward and presented to them a written paper — something Stormbreaker had prepared before her death.
When they began to read it—
(The rooster crows.)
And before the tale was complete, the dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent until another night.
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