Ramadan Kareem to all Egyptian Chronicles readers.
Tonight, we will see who will win the next round of battles: Hardoub or al-Nu’man’s brothers.
But first, it is time for our little chit-chat.
This time, I promise it will be a short chit-chat.
One of the differences between the original Omar al-Nu’man in The Thousand and One Nights and al-Nu’man in Taher Abu Fasha’s adaptation is the character of Stormbreaker.
In the original text, she is called Shawahy zat al-Dawahy—which can be rendered as Shawahy of many schemes.
I am not sure why Abu Fasha changed her name, though he still used the phrase “of many schemes” in the radio version.
Now, enough chit-chat.
Let us now see what is going to happen in the 108th episode of One Thousand and One Nights, as originally broadcast on Egyptian State Radio.
EP.17 The Chest
The One Hundred and Eighth Night
When it was the one hundred and eighth night, and the next evening had come, King Shahryar once again took his seat as he had the night before.
At the appointed hour Shahrazad arrived. The king welcomed her warmly and took her by the hand. She sat beside him and began to tell her tale.
Shahrazad said:
“I have been told, O fortunate king, wise in judgment…”
When King Daw’ al-Makan and his brother King Sharkan—the lion of the battlefield and master of horsemen—followed the advice of the garbage collector and divided their armies, half the warriors marched ahead while the rest remained behind.
Seeing only the first half of the army, the enemy was deceived and believed this to be the entire force.
At that moment the hidden troops emerged from behind the islands and fell upon them with a sudden attack. The battle had scarcely begun when the second half of Sharkan’s army arrived. Death struck the enemy from the front, and death struck them again from behind.
The soldiers surrounded them from right and left, and thus the ambush itself fell into another ambush.
The armies closed in upon them, and the warriors descended like raging beasts. Spears and swords rained down upon them, and they were forced to drink the cups of death until their ranks were destroyed and their forces wiped out to the last man.
News of the battle soon reached King Hardoub. The calamity weighed heavily upon him, and the disaster seemed immense.
He blamed his mother bitterly, and his reproaches only increased. At last the two parted ways, each choosing a different course.
She resorted to the weapon of women—cunning and deception—while he turned to the weapon of men—the sword and open battle.
When morning came and its light appeared, the warriors formed their ranks for combat.
In their hands were spears and gleaming swords.
Then King Hardoub rode forward like a raging lion, followed by one hundred thousand warriors of Banu al-Asfar.
He carved a path through the battlefield, charging and circling, and raised his voice with a thunderous cry:
On the Battlefield
Hardoub:
Is there no champion? Is there no warrior who dares face me?
Let none come forth but a true knight!
I am the raging lion!
I am the bitter poison poured!
I am the tyrant of war!
I am King Hardoub!
Sharkan:
A true hero does not boast with his tongue.
A hero speaks with the sword and the spear!
Hardoub:
Stand back, coward!
If there are real knights among you, let King Sharkan himself come forth!
Sharkan:
I am the lion of the battlefield—
Sharkan, son of King Al-Nu’man.
Hardoub:
Sharkan?
Sharkan:
Hardoub?
Hardoub:
Before my sword touches yours, there is one condition between us.
Sharkan:
Between you and me stand only the sword, the fire, the blood, and the vengeance!
Let this war end here so it does not destroy both our lands.
Hardoub:
So if I kill you, the war ends?
Sharkan:
If you kill me, you defeat me and the war ends.
And if I kill you, I defeat you—and the war ends.
Hardoub:
Then come!
Let the blows begin!
Sharkan:
Draw your sword, O King of the Byzantines!
Hardoub:
Stand firm in the field!
I will teach you the stroke of the sword, Sharkan!
Sharkan:
You do not know me, coward!
Take this!
(The clash of swords echoes across the field.)
Hardoub:
Can you fight with the spear, Sharkan?
Watch carefully!
(Soldiers shout in the background.)
“Look at the way he handles the spear!”
“Sharkan—watch your right!”
“Hold your ground, Sharkan!”
Hardoub:
Well? Can you match that, Sharkan?
If you were truly a knight, they wouldn’t have to send someone to attack you from behind!
Sharkan (turning instinctively):
A rider behind me?
Hardoub (seizing the moment):
Now—take this!
(Gasps and cries erupt among the soldiers.)
Soldiers:
Sharkan!
The coward has killed him!
Hardoub has killed Sharkan!
Daw’ al-Makan:
Carry my brother’s body from the battlefield!
Carry my brother’s body away!
And you—
Come here, coward!
Hardoub:
I am King Hardoub!
Daw’ al-Makan:
And I am Daw’ al-Makan, brother of Sharkan!
You deceived him and betrayed him!
You tricked him into turning his head and struck him treacherously!
You are vile!
You are a coward!
I will make you join him in death!
Hardoub:
You?
You son of misfortune?
Daw’ al-Makan—take this!
Daw’ al-Makan:
Now it is your turn, Hardoub!
For my father Al-Nu’man—
Take this!
(Hardoub cries out.)
Hardoub:
Ah! You have slain me!
Daw’ al-Makan:
And for my brother Sharkan—
Take this!
(Hardoub screams and falls to the ground.)
Later inside the War Camp Tent
Karkoub:
Rest easy, my lord.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Has he still not regained his senses, Karkoub?
Karkoub:
Thank God the blow was not fatal. Look, my lord…
Sharkan (waking with difficulty):
Sharkan… my brother…
Karkoub (to Daw’ al-Makan, quietly):
Don’t shout like that in front of him.
Sharkan:
Daw’ al-Makan… I am weary.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Praise be to God.
Karkoub:
When Hardoub turned during the fight and threw his spear, it struck him. But it only grazed his shoulder. He is weak mainly from the blood he lost.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Praise be to God… thanks be to Him.
(Soldiers enter with captives.)
Soldier Battash:
My lord!
Daw’ al-Makan:
Come in. What is it, Battash?
Battash:
We captured ten men. They claim they are merchants carrying goods — perfumes and silk. But we also found a chest among them… and inside it there is a captive.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Where are they?
Battash:
Outside, my lord.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Come, Uncle Karkoub. Praise be to God who delivered us from King Hardoub.
(A merchant shouts from outside.)
Merchant:
We have nothing to do with your quarrels! For heaven’s sake, show us mercy!
Daw’ al-Makan:
What is all this noise? Karkoub, where are these men?
Merchant:
My lord, they seized us though we did nothing with our hands or our tongues! We are merchants, traveling from land to land — the lands of believers and unbelievers alike. No one has ever harmed us or taken our goods. Please, my lord, protect us! We are under your mercy!
Daw’ al-Makan:
Why do you trade with our enemies?
Merchant:
So that we may reach places no one else reaches.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Anyone under my protection does not trade with my enemy!
Merchant:
But we have done what no one else would dare do!
Daw’ al-Makan:
And what is that supposed to mean?
Merchant:
What cannot be done!
Daw’ al-Makan:
And what exactly is that?
Merchant:
What we did!
Daw’ al-Makan (angrily):
Man, are you mad? Has your brain turned to salt? Stand straight and speak clearly! What was done and what was not done?
(Turning to Karkoub)
Wait a moment, Uncle Karkoub… Are you from the lands of King Hardoub?
Merchant:
We… we…
Karkoub (shouting):
Speak, you fool!
Merchant:
We are foreign traders, and fortune has not been kind to us.
Daw’ al-Makan:
How long have you been in these lands?
Merchant:
Not even three days. When we arrived we found the land barren — not a patch of grass anywhere. We didn’t know where to go. They told us the only shelter was the temple… a place called the Temple of the Virgins.
So we went there and paid it a visit. The priests received us and let us sleep beside the altar.
In the middle of the night, by the dim light of a lamp, I noticed a painting hanging on the wall. When I looked closer… it blinked its eyes!
I looked at my companions. None of them were asleep. They were staring at the painting in terror.
Then the picture lifted the glass that covered it… and stepped out of the frame!
My mouth went dry and my hair stood on end. The painting walked toward us and spoke.
The Voice of the Enchanted painting
“If you are people of goodness, and lovers of goodness, go to the monastery prison and free the holy dervish from the prison of King Hardoub. For twenty years he has been confined there, crying:
Quddus… Quddus… Quddus…”
Merchant:
The moment we heard the words of the painting we were seized with madness! We rushed like birds to the monastery prison.
We killed the priest who guarded it, freed the holy man, hid him inside this chest, and slipped away quietly.
We said, God’s lands belong to God’s people. So we took the dervish and fled.
But just as we escaped and thanked God for saving us… your soldiers came upon us and seized us, though we are under your protection and deserve your mercy.
Daw’ al-Makan:
And this dervish… is he with you now?
Merchant:
Yes, my lord.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Where?
Merchant:
Inside the chest.
Daw’ al-Makan:
Bring the chest!
(Soldiers carry it forward.)
Soldier:
Here it is, my lord! There really is a dervish inside!
Daw’ al-Makan:
Open the chest! Bring the dervish out!
(The chest opens.)
The Dervish (in a trembling voice):
Quddus… Quddus… Quddus…
Daw’ al-Makan:
Subhan Allah! Welcome, holy sir! Help him out!
Dervish:
Quddus… Quddus…
Shahrazad said:
They brought the dervish out of the chest, and upon his body were the marks of chains and burns. He praised God and thanked his Lord.
The commanders rushed toward him, and the soldiers gathered around him, asking for prayers and seeking his blessings.
Then it occurred to Daw’ al-Makan to take the holy man to his brother Sharkan, for the breath of such a revered saint is unequaled, and his prayer can heal the sick.
So Daw’ al-Makan brought the dervish to Sharkan’s tent and said:
“My lord—”
(The rooster crows, announcing the dawn.)
And before the tale was complete, the dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent until another night.
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