As he put away the gold pieces and the rupees into his zambil the smell of the perfume drug filled his mind. He swooned and dropped unconscious to the ground. Sarsar made her war cry and came out from her hiding place. While making a bundle of Amar she decided to summon a trickster girl and dispatch her to Afrasiyab’s court to apprise the emperor of these developments.
Burq saw Sarsar from far away and crossed over into Batin disguised as the trickster girl Tez Nigah. He made his hairdo like the trickster girl’s, wore a greenish yellow mantle and colored his lips with missi and betel juice. He made the cast of a severed head from pasteboard and also made arms and legs covered with false skin. Then he took out a bottle of blood from his trickster’s bag and, covering his own head with the pasteboard cast, poured blood all over it and on its exposed veins. Attaching the pasteboard neck to the head with a strap of false skin, he scattered the pasteboard limbs around to give it the appearance of a dismembered corpse. Then he lay down on the path he reckoned Sarsar would take and hid his limbs under his clothes.
In due time, Sarsar passed that way and saw a dismembered corpse. Fresh blood flowed from the neck attached to the head with a shred of skin. Sarsar’s heart sank when she approached and recognized Tez Nigah’s face. Her eyes welled up with tears. Sarsar dropped Amar’s bundle and embraced the corpse crying and loudly wailing, “Alas, those wretched tricksters killed my sister. Alas my sister Tez Nigah! You were separated from me!”
As she was crying, a jet of blood shot out from the slit throat of the corpse and sprayed Sarsar’s face. She sneezed and fell unconscious. Burq the Frank made his war cry and got up. Spreading his trickster’s mantle, he laid Sarsar on it and placed Amar beside her. Then he applied plugs of restorative salts to their nostrils and both Amar and Sarsar regained consciousness.
Burq now approached Sarsar, greeted her and said, “Pray accept my salutations, O my lady! Look at you lying shamelessly here in broad daylight beside my master. If you could not find a garden nook for pleasure-seeking at least you should have taken the trouble to retire into a pavilion. You must not forsake the minimum requisites of decency.”
As Burq said these words, Amar Ayyar opened his eyes and, finding himself lying next to Sarsar, amorously embraced her, crying, “Come to me, O Life of the World! O Solace of the Hearts of Lovers!”
Finding herself in that predicament, Sarsar answered, “You bastards deserving of beheading! You sucked on the teats of a bitch as infants.” With that she kicked Amar as he amorously called out,
“O to hear the jingle of your ankle bells
When your feet drum my chest on the night of union.”
Sarsar blushed crimson at these words. She leapt away and escaped.
Amar now caught Burq’s hand and said, “Son, I will not ask for Jamshed’s mantle from you. But do come along with me to the court.” Amar led him to the court where Burq presented Afrasiyab’s four crowns to Asad and Mahjabeen, who made an offering of them to Amar. Queen Mahjabeen conferred several hundred thousand gold pieces on Burq in reward and Bahar too, presented him with fifty thousand gold pieces. The renowned commanders of the court sang Burq’s praises continuously and calls of “Bravo! Well done!” rose from all corners.
Moon-like cupbearers carrying goblets of wine circulated in that paradisiacal congregation and songsters sang captivating songs in mellow and harmonious notes to delight the assembly.
Amar now said to Burq, “My dear, I must ask you to hand over Jamshed’s mantle now. Amir Hamza had ordered that such marvellous devices and the mementoes of the prophets must be employed against the enemy only as a last resort. And look at you! The moment you found yourself in possession of Jamshed’s mantle you headed straight for the City of Disregard and challenged Afrasiyab. Had I wished, I could have donned the cape of invisibility, beheaded all enemies and conquered the tilism. But we must remain an aid and assistant to the Conqueror of the Tilism merely in the capacity of tricksters. Now, do surrender Jamshed’s mantle to me.”
Burq answered, “I do not depend on Jamshed’s mantle for my trickeries. God willing, even without it I will kill thousands of sorcerers.” He handed Jamshed’s mantle to Amar Ayyar.
While they were engaged in this conversation a horrible sound suddenly broke upon them. A magic claw swooped down with a flash of light and carried away Bahar and a thunderous voice proclaimed, “I am Sorcerer Namrud!” The courtiers and Princess Mahrukh Magic-Eye rose from their stations in agitation. Thousands of magic coconuts and citrons targeted the magic claw. But none of them had any effect because it was the magic claw of a mighty sorcerer.
Amar Ayyar and the tricksters followed the flight of the magic claw, which landed with Bahar on a mountaintop. The sorcerer Namrud proclaimed by magic in a dreadful, booming voice, “O tribe of ingrates, know that I am stationed on this mountaintop so that none may say that I carried off Bahar furtively. I challenge the courageous ones among you to snatch her from me.”
Namrud deputed a magic slave on the peak of the mountain to alert him if anyone approached. Then he spread a magic carpet and sat down. He sat Bahar, who had fallen unconscious after catching Namrud’s powerful gaze, down on one side of him.
Amar Ayyar climbed the mountaintop in the guise of a sorcerer carrying a bowl full of brightly shining pomegranate seeds the size of chicken eggs. The magic slave deputed on the peak warned Amar not to proceed further. When Amar did not desist, it called out to Namrud, “Be alert, Amar Ayyar is approaching!” Namrud replied, “Let him come!”
Amar arrived before Namrud, greeted him, and said, “O Namrud, your magic slave lies! I am, in fact, a servant of Emperor Afrasiyab, who sent these pomegranate seeds for you from the Apple Garden.” Namrud laughed and said, “O Amar, you have no equal in slyness. I won’t fall for your tricks but do let me see what kind of pomegranate seeds you brought me.”
Namrud took the bowl from Amar’s hands and saw pomegranate seeds of a marvellous variety. When he took out a few for closer inspection, steam rose from them and a wisp of the vapor traveled up Namrud’s nostrils. He sneezed and fell unconscious. Amar Ayyar cut off his head without loss of time.
Clamour and noises arose, darkness fell, and after a few moments, a plaintive cry was heard, “I was killed! Namrud was my name.” A bird of bright plumage emerged from his skull and flew off toward Afrasiyab’s court.
Princess Bahar was freed from Namrud’s spell at his death. She returned with Amar Ayyar to Mahjabeen’s court where everyone celebrated her release and revels began.
The shiny-colored bird that came out of Namrud’s skull arrived in Afrasiyab’s court. It informed him of Namrud’s end and burned up.
When Emperor Heyrat again insisted on leading the campaign against the enemy with an entourage of renowned sorcerers, Afrasiyab finally gave her permission. Heyrat busied herself planning the campaign and marshalling the army.
SORCERER SARMAST
Now hear of Laqa. Earlier we had learned of Suleiman Amber-Hair sending a missive to Afrasiyab requesting him to send someone to aid Laqa. The Emperor of Hoshruba had dispatched sorceress Hasina on the campaign. However, when Hasina reached her city to make preparations, she fell ill and could not proceed to Laqa’s aid. After some time, Suleiman Amber-Hair sent a second letter to Afrasiyab with the same message.
The magic claw carrying the letter for Afrasiyab arrived as Empress Heyrat was busy preparing for her own campaign. After reading Amber-Hair’s letter, Afrasiyab turned to one of the commanders of his army, sorcerer Sarmast, and said to him, “O Sarmast, you must go to Lord Laqa’s aid.” Sarmast retired to his abode upon receiving his orders. He gathered an army of twelve thousand sorcerers and marched toward Mount Agate with great majesty and glory.
OF SORCERER SARMAST FIGHTING AMIR HAMZA; OF THE TRICKERY PERFORMED BY CHALAK; OF EMPRESS HEYRAT MARCHING WITH A SANGUINARY ARMY AND WAGING A LONG WAR AGAINST MAHRUKH; AND OF THE TRICKERIES PERFORMED BY THE TRICKSTERS AND TRICKSTER GIRLS
The face-adorners of the bride of valor
and the bedeckers of the glorious damsel who has a taste for carnage, draw the comb of speech through the locks of their darling narrative and dot the letters on the mirror-like bright face of the page as if drawing dark moles on her comely face to ward off the evil eye.
When Empress Heyrat prepared to march against Mahrukh, some seven million sorcerers, including many renowned magicians of the tilism, prepared to accompany her on the campaign. Afrasiyab also sent two of his ministers, Abriq Mount-Splitter and Sarma Ice-Hurler to escort Heyrat. The empress mounted the throne and her sorceress-aides, Yaqut and Zamarrud, began fanning her with fly-whisks of phoenix feathers.
Thousands of magic drums sounded as her throne rose into the air and climbed into the clouds. The throne took on the shape of an enamelled building in which her jewel-encrusted throne lay surrounded by thousands of ruby-inlaid chairs. Bright and blazing like a flame, Heyrat’s body hovered over the throne. Magic bugles and bells sounded along the course and chants of “Long live Sameri!” were heard as her procession flew along its path.
At Heyrat’s signal, a sorcerer threw magic citrons into the air that burst with thunderous sounds like the simultaneous discharge of tens of hundreds of canons and caused thousands of stars to fall from the heavens and disappear above Empress Heyrat’s head as a sacrifice for her life and to ward off harm.
Skirmishers of the battlefield flew alongside Empress Heyrat astride magical beasts, making the Earth and the heavens cry for reprieve from the deafening cling-clang of their arms and armor. The ranked and conceited sorcerers and sorceresses progressed forth mightily and with great splendor and arrived like a swelling tide in the precincts of the City of Manycolors.
Mahjabeen Diamond-Robe and Mahrukh Magic-Eye were seated on their thrones when they heard the tolling of magical bells and the thunder of drums that shook the Earth. All the commanders of their camp headed out of the court and witnessed the arrival of Empress Heyrat and the sorceress’s army.
Everyone who saw the sight of that swelling horde called out, “O Protector! We seek Your protection!” Mahrukh and others were unnerved by the sight of Heyrat’s procession and their camp was thrown into commotion.
Heyrat’s army bivouacked on the other side of the arena. A hundred ruby-encrusted spires shone above their camp and for miles across the horizon the tents of sorcerers were pitched. The bazaars opened up in Heyrat’s camp and brisk trade began in all parts of the market.
The royal camp overlooking the Hall of Assembly was a sight to behold. Heyrat dismounted her throne, entered the court and ascended her station, which was ringed by the seats and thrones of throat-slitting warriors and sorcerers as mighty as Sameri. The forest of valor became crowded with lions. The trickster girls came out from their wilderness stations, presented themselves, and got busy making preparations for the impending battle.
Leaving all of them busy in their preparations,
Forget for a moment this tale
And hear in its place another story
Let us digress here to narrate the account of the sorcerer Sarmast, who had departed with great pomp and magnificence and twelve thousand sorcerers toward Mount Agate in Laqa’s aid. After traversing many stages, his army emerged from the boundaries of the tilism and arrived in the neighbourhood of Mount Agate.
Finding himself in the vicinity of a thick and enchanting forest, Sarmast desired to go hunting. He set up his camp at the foot of the mountain and, leaving his army camped there, started the hunt. After he had hunted many birds, wild asses and wild cows, a deer pierced by his arrow escaped and Sarmast gave it chase on his horse.
Amir Hamza’s son, Darab the World Conqueror, was already hunting in that part of the forest. As the deer ran past him he notched and shot an arrow that brought down the deer. As it collapsed the prince slaughtered it. In the meanwhile, Sarmast reached the scene and, noticing Darab standing over his prey, challenged him, saying, “How dare you slaughter my prey?” Darab replied, “O brave, I would never have targeted this vulnerable animal had I known that it was your prey. Please accept this deer, as well as all the animals I have hunted today, as a gift, and forgive my error.”
Sarmast, who was intoxicated with the heady wine of vanity, did not accept the Prince’s excuse. He rebuked Darab, saying, “O unworthy fool, do you tempt me with meat because you think I covet it? I am the sorcerer Sarmast and shall now hunt you down for your contumely.”
The prince answered, “You sorcerers pride yourselves on magic; if you faced me in sword combat I would show you your true worth in no time.” Sarmast answered, “I give you my word that in our combat I shall not recourse to magic. Let us see what you are capable of, give me your best blow!” The prince answered,
“You should fulfill your desire first
For I let my enemy always deliver the first blow.”
Sarmast drew his sword. Rising in his stirrups and summoning the entire strength of his body into his arms, he unleashed the blow on Darab’s head. The prince brought his steed up to Sarmast’s and, contracting himself like a flower bud, covered his entire body with his shield. The shield received the full impact of Sarmast’s blow but only the hilt and the shank of Sarmast’s sword struck it. The angle from which the sword fell did not land a useful blow and was foiled by the prince.
Sarmast had not yet pulled himself together when Darab drew his sword and called out, “Be warned and beware lest someone should say that I attacked you without warning,
“You dealt me a blow now receive one from my hand
That will erase all happy thoughts from your heart.”
Darab now dealt the blow. Seeing the sharp blade come down with Darab’s mighty arm, Sarmast emptied his saddle and jumped onto the horse’s crupper to block with his shield. The lightning-like sword of the prince of lofty fortunes cut through the shield like a thunder bolt passes through dark clouds. It cut Sarmast’s helm and armor, his turban and under-cap89 and sank two digits deep into his skull.
Sarmast quickly stopped the progress of the blade with his hand armor and, with a twang, the sword came out of his skull, but a screen of blood covered Sarmast’s face and he fell down from the injury unconscious.
Darab’s first impulse was to behead him but he thought better of it; the consideration that slaying the injured and helpless was beneath the dignity of valiant men stayed his hand. He was engrossed in these thoughts when, suddenly, a dark storm began blowing and Sarmast’s foster mother, the pitch-black, cruel-faced, ugly sorceress Nagan, materialized before Darab.
Enraged from witnessing the condition of her foster son, she cast a spell. A fiery tower rose around Darab and imprisoned him, allowing no avenue of escape. Then she carried Sarmast in her arms to safety. In the meanwhile, Zardam, who was one of Sarmast’s retainers, arrived on the scene with the army at the same time that Prince Darab’s forces also landed there.
A battle broke out between the camps. The sorcerers employed magic and the armies of Prince Darab were defeated in no time. They were routed and retreated into the mountains while Sarmast’s army returned to its camp.
Prince Darab’s trickster, Fattah Kishori, who accompanied his army, infiltrated Sarmast’s camp in a woodcutter’s disguise. He carried his sandals dangling from the end of a stick on his shoulders and logs of wood on his back.
In the meanwhile, some of Darab’s men returned to their camp and reported the events to Amir Hamza, who prepared to march to the prince’s rescue. An advance party of his companions and nobles immediately left to aid Darab.
In the enemy camp, sorceress Nagan treated Sarmast’s wounds with a magic salve that healed them at once. She instructed Sarmast in the delicate strategies of battle, advised him to leave for Laqa’s court, then departed. Sarmast started for Laqa’s court carrying Darab on a cart as his prisoner. Trickster Fattah and his army followed.
Laqa was seated on his throne when a dust storm arose. It became so dark that nothing could be made out and fire and stones rained down from the sky. Frightened out of his wits by
these marvels, Laqa crept under his throne to hide.
A few moments later, Sarmast, whose arrival was heralded by these events, entered the court and, noticing the vacant throne, asked, “Where is Lord Laqa?”
Bakhtiarak welcomed him with all the tokens of honor and said, “Please be seated. Our Lord will join us momentarily.” Bakhtiarak screened off the area around the throne and tried to persuade Laqa to come out from under it. Bakhtiarak said, “If Your Lordship makes a habit of hiding there in fear, it would weaken the faith of your believers.” Laqa finally came out and was restored to his dignity and majesty. Once he resumed his seat on the throne, the screens were removed.
Sarmast prostrated himself before Laqa and told him that the Emperor of Hoshruba had sent him to help fight Hamza. Laqa conferred a robe of distinction on Sarmast and King Suleiman and Bakhtiarak provided a pleasant station for his army to set up camp.
Clapper-drums began beating and gongs were rung. The sorcerers rested and meat and wine were served in the court. A dance recital started and a musical assembly got underway.
Amir Hamza’s spies, who were present in Laqa’s court, returned to their camp and arrived in the Pavilion of Suleiman at the station of audience. They prayed with humility and devotion,
“You, whose courage matches Faridun’s, and magnificence
equals Dara’s
You, whose person dispelled all tyranny from the world,
May your kingdom, riches, magnificence, and knowledge
Hoshruba Page 33