Ramadan Kareem to all Egyptian Chronicles readers.
Tonight, we will learn what happened to al-Nu’man’s offspring after learning of their father’s death.
But first, it is time for our little chit-chat.
After the arrest and subsequent execution of Al-Nu'man III ibn al-Mundhir by order of the Sasanian emperor Khosrow II, the Lakhmid rule over Al-Hirah in southern Iraq and parts of Arabia came to an end.
Khosrow II made sure of that by appointing Iyas ibn Qabisah al-Ta'i to govern Al-Hirah in place of the Lakhmids. But the story did not end there.
As we learned last night, al-Nu’man’s daughter Hind, a famous poetess and a Lakhmid Nestorian Christian princess, played a role in the falling-out between her father and the Sasanian Empire.
According to popular legend, Khosrow himself wished to marry Hind, but both she and her father rejected the proposal. The story goes that the Sasanian ruler then demanded that the Arabian tribes hand over Hind, along with the rest of her family and her father’s royal armor, as a sign of submission. The tribes, however, refused.
Historical sources suggest a slightly different version of the story. Some accounts say that it was not Khosrow himself but rather one of his relatives who sought Hind’s hand in marriage—and she rejected him. This rejection was among the factors that eventually led Khosrow to turn against al-Nu’man.
Events escalated quickly. The Lakhmid king fled his capital, Al-Hirah, and sought refuge among the powerful Banu Bakr. He was not alone—Hind was with him.
According to later traditions, Hind did not remain passive. She is said to have worked to encourage alliances among Arabian tribes to avenge the fall of her dynasty. Still, she was not the only reason for what would soon unfold.
The Banu Bakr confederation—an emerging political force stretching from southern Iraq deep into Arabia—was already unhappy with the rule of Iyas ibn Qabisah and the growing influence of the Sasanians in the region.
Eventually, the Banu Bakr tribes decided they had had enough. Against all odds, they confronted the powerful Sasanian Empire in battle —and won.
Muslim traditions place the battle anywhere between 602 and 624 CE, but according to modern scholarship cited in the Encyclopaedia Iranica, most historians now narrow the likely date to sometime between 604 and 611 CE.
The conflict became both a historical turning point and a legendary epic: the famous Battle of Dhi Qar.
According to historians, this battle helped pave the way for the later decline of the Sasanian Empire and, decades later, the victory of the early Muslim armies at the Battle of al-Qadisiyyah.
Long before the compilation of One Thousand and One Nights, the story of Dhi Qar had already become a celebrated epic in the famous of “Ayyam Al-Arab” or “The Days of the Arabs”.
Aside from the saga of al-Nu’man, the Nights also contain references to the Lakhmid rulers—whether to Al-Nu'man I ibn Imru' al-Qays or to his famous descendant, Hind.
The historical Princess Hind, according to tradition, eventually withdrew from political life and became a nun in southern Iraq. Now, enough chit-chat.
Let us now see what is going to happen in the 105th episode of One Thousand and One Nights, as originally broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
EP.14 The Battle of Brothers
The One Hundred and Fourth Night
When it was the one hundred and fifth night, and the tale reached its next evening, King Shahryar took his seat as he had the night before. Shahrazad came to him at the appointed hour, approached him, bowed before him, and began once again to recount her tale.
Shahrazad said:
“It has reached me, O fortunate king, wise in judgment and sound in counsel, that the vizier Dandan once told this story to Prince Daw’ al-Makan, when the two armies had met and were on the verge of battle.
But just as the clash was about to begin, Daw’ al-Makan rode forth into the middle of the field. There he recognized Dandan, and Dandan recognized him. The prince then called upon the men to know one another before drawing their swords.
And when Dandan recognized Daw’ al-Makan, and Daw’ al-Makan recognized Dandan, the two men embraced. The prince rejoiced, but the vizier wept.
When the prince asked him why he was weeping, Dandan offered him condolences for his father and told him what fate had brought to pass — how King al-Nu‘man had been slain, and what calamities had since befallen the realm… until he said the following:
Vizier Dandan:
We have split into two factions — some in the north and some in the south — and no one knows who should sit upon the throne. You and your sister Nuzhat al-Zaman have been gone for years. No one knew whether you were alive or dead. Meanwhile your brother Sharkan became king over the Land of the Coral.
And I will not hide the truth from you — most of the council favored you.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Favored me?
Vizier Dandan:
You are not like your brother. The people here love you.
Daw’ al-Makan:
And why would they dislike my brother?
Vizier Dandan:
Not dislike him… but… they fear him.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Why should they fear him?
Vizier Dandan:
Because of his might and severity — his fierce resolve and great strength. Have you not heard his roar? Have you not seen his fury?
Daw’ al-Makan:
And that is something to fear?
Vizier Dandan:
Of course it is!
Daw’ al-Makan:
It should frighten our enemies, Dandan! In any case, you are mistaken.
Vizier Dandan:
Mistaken?!
Daw’ al-Makan:
You have not truly known my brother Sharkan — and that is why you misjudge him. Sharkan is more deserving of the throne, O vizier.
Vizier Dandan (astonished at the prince’s nobility):
What are you saying, my prince?
Daw’ al-Makan:
I have said it from the beginning. Tell me — have you sent word to my brother, or have you all been sleeping?
Vizier Dandan:
We have only just risen to the matter.
Daw’ al-Makan:
What do you mean by that? My brother still does not know that our father is dead? There must be some secret behind this. Tell me!
Vizier Dandan:
What should I say, my prince?
Daw’ al-Makan:
What is this secret, Dandan?
Vizier Dandan:
There is no secret. We were simply… divided.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Divided over what?
Vizier Dandan:
Over who should become the new sultan.
Daw’ al-Makan:
And that requires debate? Who else but my brother Sharkan?
Vizier Dandan:
Reconsider, my prince.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Reconsider what?
Vizier Dandan:
You could take the throne. You could claim everything for yourself.
Daw’ al-Makan (angered):
Are you trying to turn me against my brother — or turn my brother against me? That is treachery, Dandan!
Vizier Dandan:
By God, my prince, I said the same from the very beginning.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Continue your journey and do not return with me, O vizier. Go instead to the Land of the Coral. Meet my brother, King Sharkan, and tell him this:
Your brothers send you their condolences. They mourn your father with you.
Vizier Dandan:
Your command, my prince.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Tell him to come at once with his armies and his men, so that he may claim the throne of his father. Then together we shall take vengeance upon the one who slew him.
Vizier Dandan:
Your command, my prince.
Daw’ al-Makan:
What are you waiting for, vizier?
Vizier Dandan:
Nothing… I shall depart at once. But I have one question.
Daw’ al-Makan:
What question?
Vizier Dandan:
It may take months before King Sharkan returns. Shall the kingdom remain without a ruler all that time?
Daw’ al-Makan:
Until the sultan returns, I shall govern in his name. I will rule as my brother’s regent.
Is there anything else?
Vizier Dandan:
Nothing, O King of the Age.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Then go in peace, Dandan.
That same night, in the distant Land of the Coral Kingdom, a strange voice echoed through the palace halls.
A voice calling through the silence.
“Sharkan… Sharkan… Sharkan…
Sharkan, king of the age, ruler of the Coral Lands…
Do you know what has happened to King Al-Nu’man?”
Sharkan jolted awake, startled.
“My father?! What happened to King Al-Nu’man?”
The old woman’s voice replied calmly:
“Some words can be spoken aloud… and some must only be whispered. Clear the room.”
Sharkan immediately ordered the chamber emptied. The doors were shut, and the guards withdrew.
“Now the room is empty,” he said. “Tell me — what happened to King Al-Nu’man?”
The crone stepped forward.
“Before I speak,” she said, “I will show you a sign.”
She placed something in his hand.
Sharkan stared — and gasped.
“My father’s ring! The king’s own ring!”
“And another sign,” the old woman said quietly.
She placed a small bead before him — a charm he knew well.
Sharkan froze.
“The bead… the bead my father once gave me…”
The old woman lowered her voice.
“May God have mercy on him.”
Sharkan’s face darkened.
“What are you saying, woman?”
“I pity the death he died,” she replied.
“Dead?!” Sharkan shouted. “How? What are you saying? If he’s dead, why would he send you? Who killed him?”
The old woman spoke slowly, letting each word fall like poison.
“His own son… and his own daughter.
Nuzhat al-Zaman and Daw’ al-Makan.”
Sharkan staggered back.
“They wanted the throne,” she continued. “And it was all plotted by their grandfather, King Khāqān.”
Sharkan clenched his fists.
“Why, Daw’ al-Makan… why?”
The old woman continued her lie.
“The late king trusted me. He cared for me, and he believed in me. When I entered his chamber as he lay dying, he signaled for me to come closer.”
“He whispered that he had been poisoned.”
“He gave me his ring and begged me to deliver it to you.”
“And he left you a message.”
Sharkan leaned forward.
“What message?”
She said:
“He told me to tell you this:
‘Let Sharkan rise… and cut off the finger of that crippled wretch — the son of the slave woman. No matter how precious the slave girl may be, her son is still the son of a slave.’”
Sharkan erupted with fury.
“Traitor! You cannot trust the son of an enemy, and you should expect no honor from him! I’ll show that slave-woman’s son what I can do!”
But the old woman was not finished.
“There is something else you must know, Sharkan. Daw’ al-Makan will try to deceive you.”
“After what has happened?” Sharkan said bitterly. “You expect me to believe him?”
“He will send Vizier Dandan to you,” she said. “And ask yourself — why send Dandan now? Why not before? If they truly mourned the king, why did they delay the news?”
Sharkan’s anger turned colder.
“Dandan… I’ve had a score to settle with him for a long time. Before I came to the Coral Lands, he was the one who convinced my father to imprison me.”
“He was also the one who took Abriza away from me.”
“And what was the result? She left both of us. I never had her — and neither did he.”
The old woman smiled thinly.
“Leave Dandan to me. Don’t listen to a word he says. Before he even opens his mouth, his head will be at his feet.”
Sharkan’s rage reached its peak.
“I will avenge my father… and I will avenge myself!”
He shouted for his guard.
“Makboul! Makboul!”
The guard rushed in.
“At your command, my lord!”
“Beat the war drums!” Sharkan roared. “Open the treasuries and distribute the weapons — swords and spears!”
“Proclaim it throughout the land!”
“Our meeting with the warriors… will be in the kingdom of Al-Nu’man!”
Soon after, the sound of chaos erupted outside the city walls
The clash of steel…
The thunder of hooves…
And the roar of battle.
A soldier came running, breathless.
“My lord! Help! The armies have attacked us!”
Daw’ al-Makan turned sharply.
“What armies? Who are they?”
“We were standing at the gates of the city,” the soldier said. “We saw dust rising in the distance and thought they were our own men returning. We didn’t prepare ourselves… and suddenly they fell upon us! They’re cutting through our ranks!”
“Is the battle still raging?”
“They’re pushing toward the city!”
“Where are they now?”
“They’ve reached the walls!”
Daw’ al-Makan seized his sword and chainmail.
“Go ahead of me,” he ordered. “Tell the commander to hold the line and rally the soldiers. I’ll be there in a moment.”
Then he added firmly:
“On the day of battle, the true men reveal themselves.”
Steel clashed against steel as the battle raged in the field.
Amid the fighting, a powerful voice roared across the battlefield.
“Where are the knights? Where are the brave men?
Where is Daw’ al-Makan?”
A warrior rode forward.
“You there! Are you the knight Daw’ al-Makan?”
Daw’ al-Makan answered calmly:
“And who are you, rider among warriors?”
The man laughed fiercely.
“Who am I? Those who know me hide from my path. Those who don’t know me… I introduce myself with my sword!”
“I am the lion of the deserts!
The slayer of enemies!
The feeder of beasts!
The breaker of armies!”
He raised his blade.
“Stand where you are! I’ll show you your place in battle!”
Their swords struck with a violent clash.
The warrior shouted:
“You do not know the lion of the battlefield!”
“I am King Sharkan!”
Daw’ al-Makan froze.
“Sharkan?!”
“Sword up, coward!” Sharkan roared.
“My sword, Sharkan?” Daw’ al-Makan replied quietly. “Of course you don’t know me — you have never seen me.”
“Wait, Sharkan… I am your brother.”
“I am Daw’ al-Makan.”
But Sharkan’s fury had already taken hold.
“My brother?” he shouted. “Defend yourself!”
“Defend myself against you?” Daw’ al-Makan said. “Even if you raise your hand to kill me, I will never raise my sword against you.”
“And the blood of our father?” Sharkan roared.
“Our father’s blood will have its time,” Daw’ al-Makan answered.
“You must atone for your crime!” Sharkan shouted.
“What crime, Sharkan?”
“You will wash your shame with your own blood!”
And he struck.
“Take this!”
“Sharkan!!”
Shahrazad continued:
The old crone had not been satisfied with killing King Al-Nu’man. She wanted more — she wanted the brothers themselves to destroy one another.
And Sharkan nearly killed his own brother Daw’ al-Makan.
But fate intervened.
Their sister, Nuzhat al-Zaman, arrived in time and stopped them before destiny could take its course.
At once the call went out across the battlefield:
“Stop the fighting!”
The armies withdrew, and the two brothers were brought together before the royal court.
Then Daw’ al-Makan stepped forward and spoke:
“My lord…”
At that moment, the rooster crowed.
And before the tale was complete, the dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent until another night.
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