Their wise counsel found favor with Afrasiyab. He praised their sagacity and consulted the Book of Sameri, wherein he saw written:
“It is not preferable to kill Asad because Amar would avenge his death. He will wear the cape of invisibility and behead everyone; there will be no stopping him. You must keep the Conqueror of the Tilism under detention and capture Amar and the other tricksters as well. Then you can put all of them to death simultaneously.”
After reading these words, Afrasiyab called out to his courtiers, “You spoke true when you said that the Book of Sameri does not counsel Asad’s execution. Take both Asad and Mahjabeen and imprison them in the Dome of Light. With a spell I will conceal from the eyes of men the doors of the City of Disregard that open into Zahir. Nobody will be able to counter my spell and neither any trickster nor helper from the rebels’ camp will be able to come to their aid.”
No sooner did Afrasiyab give his order than hundreds of thousands of tyrannical, wicked, brazen, misanthropic sorcerers put magic fetters on Asad and Mahjabeen. Carrying red and black magic snakes in their hands and coiled around their arms and legs, they led the prisoners to the City of Disregard.
When they arrived in the city, its entire populace, men and women alike, came out to see the sight, and proclaimed, “How the rebels who caused all the mayhem in the tilism have fallen!” Asad and Mahjabeen – the luminous candles of the assembly of excellence – were imprisoned in a small, dark cell and thousands of sorcerers were deputed to guard them.
Afrasiyab recited a spell that concealed the doors of the City of Disregard that opened into the region of Zahir, and the surging waves of the River of Flowing Blood covered them.
While Afrasiyab made these arrangements, Mahjabeen’s army commanders, including Princesses Bahar and Nafarman, went to the queen’s private pavilion in the morning to escort her into the court. The slave girls, drugged unconscious by Sarsar and Saba Raftar, also came to and returned to their duties. On the way, they met Mahjabeen’s attendants as they came rushing out crying and wailing from her private pavilion. Princesses Bahar and Nafarman asked, “What is the matter?” They replied, “Someone kidnapped the Queen of the World and the valiant prince in their sleep.” The commanders wailed when they heard the terrible news and the entire camp was thrown into turmoil.
Their cries and laments reached Amar in the wilderness, who returned to the camp where he received the awful news. He went into Mahjabeen’s private pavilion and recognized the marks left by Sarsar and Saba Raftar’s feet. He said to Mahrukh, “It was Sarsar who kidnapped them.” Mahrukh wept copiously when she heard this and cried, “Now Afrasiyab will never spare their lives!”
These words turned the whole camp into a churning sea of grief and Mahrukh mourned Asad and Mahjabeen without cease.
At that moment, Princess Nafarman parted the veil from Mahrukh’s face and said, “O Princess, such are the ways of the fickle heavens – a providence that never dispensed happiness. These events happen daily on its watch. But while you may complain of it, you must not allow your perseverance to weaken or your resolve to waver. You must not let go of your equanimity and composure.”
Princess Bahar also wept and rent her collar to shreds. Like the cloud of spring quarter, she cried non-stop, exclaiming, “O capricious fate, see how you inflicted this sorrow upon me. Now I will wander aimlessly forever. Neither will anybody have me nor will I have anyone to sustain and support me in my loneliness.”
Amar dried everyone’s tears and said to Mahrukh, “You had ascertained for yourself from occult foreknowledge that Prince Asad will conquer the tilism and kill Afrasiyab. It is unbecoming for you to abandon yourself to grief. You should replace Queen Mahjabeen on the throne and take charge of the camp. God willing, Asad will be freed soon and the Gatherer of the Separated will bring us all together again. The sons of Amir Hamza are visited often by calamitous and inauspicious moments. Do not let that make you anxious. This difficult time will pass and the prince will be freed. If Afrasiyab harms the prince, I swear on my name and honor that I will put on the cape of invisibility and behead every single sorcerer. You must put your trust in God alone and close your heart to grief.”
In short, when the mourning ended, Amar declared to the camp that during Mahjabeen’s absence Mahrukh would be their queen. Mahrukh accepted the trust with a heavy heart.
Then the court was held as before and the commanders and courtiers made offerings to Queen Mahrukh. The tabla played again in the court as a musical assembly began, and Amar left to work his trickery.
In the meanwhile, sorceress Khatif Lightning-Bolt arrived, flashing in a crimson cloud with her one-hundred-thousand-strong army, and entered Empress Heyrat’s camp with great ceremony and fanfare. Heyrat also received Afrasiyab’s missive containing an account of the capture of Asad and Mahjabeen. The empress sent a welcoming party to conduct sorceress Khatif into the court, set up a high pavilion for her accommodation, and furnished it with all comforts.
Sorceress Khatif was given a throne in the court but for fear of the tricksters, she retained the form of a lightning bolt; all anyone could see was a lightning bolt that flashed above her throne.
The magic birds brought Queen Mahrukh a report of these events and she took measures to safeguard her camp.
Sorceress Khatif Lightning-Bolt wrote a letter to Queen Mahrukh that read:
“If you present yourself before me I will have your trespasses forgiven by the emperor and he will confer lands and riches upon you. Renounce your rebellious ways and submit your neck in obedience before the Emperor of Hoshruba.”
Khatif deputed a magic slave to deliver the message to Mahrukh, who wrote in reply:
“O Khatif Lightning-Bolt, you should know that Amar Ayyar is called the Beheader of Sorcerers. The very mention of the tricksters’ names turns the gall of sorcerers to water. You must submit your allegiance or you will speedily be meted out your just deserts.”
Incensed upon reading this, Khatif advanced on Mahrukh’s camp by herself like a blazing flame. Her deputies blew magic fifes and trumpets and hurriedly mounted magic birds to accompany their commander.
Hearing the news of the imminent attack, Mahrukh organized her forces. They too, mounted their magic conveyances and arrayed out against sorceress Khatif.
Khatif struck Mahrukh’s camp in the form of thunderbolts. Renowned sorcerers of Queen Mahrukh’s camp invoked their magic and forty magic shields provided them cover. The whole battlefield became overcast and thunderbolts continuously dropped and burned up a harvest of lives in Mahrukh’s camp.
Terrible cries rose from the two camps as magicians on both sides received and delivered strikes. Bodies piled up on each other. The fields of carnage bore the fruit of death. The links of the chains of breath continuously snapped. By sunset, thousands of celebrated sorcerers in Mahrukh’s camp were dispatched to the land of doom.
Then Khatif Lightning-Bolt called out, “O Mahrukh, what you saw today was a small taste of my wrath. I now retire for the day. Come tomorrow I will efface all traces of your existence from the world. You will die without a grave or a winding-sheet and be made dust.”
The drums for the cessation of hostilities were beaten in Khatif’s camp. She retreated and Mahrukh returned dispirited and grieving to her camp. Her army followed Mahrukh, marked and burdened by the terror of the coming day. The cowards absconded under cover of night and the brave prayed and solicited their Lord’s help.
Amar Ayyar arrived near Khatif’s camp by the banks of a river adjacent to Empress Heyrat’s encampment. He disguised himself as a young man and dove into the water. One of Khatif’s attendants noticed him and asked, “What do you dive for, young man?” He answered, “Whatever fate yields: I retrieve cowries, paisas, rupees, whatever is offered me.” The attendant said, “If I threw paisas would you retrieve them?” Amar said, “Yes!” The attendant threw some paisas into the river. Amar retrieved them for him and received them as his reward. Finally, the attendant said, “Now it’s time to attend to
my duty. I have to prepare the hookah for sorceress Khatif, who will be looking my way. Meet me here again tomorrow.”
Amar accompanied the attendant. On the way, he gave him some tobacco and said, “You should fill this tobacco in the hookah-snake today. It is a rare variety. If sorceress Khatif likes it I will give you the seller’s name.” The attendant took the tobacco.
Amar said, “Do smell it! See what a nice aroma it has.” The attendant smelled the tobacco and immediately fell unconscious because it was laced with a perfumed drug.
Amar disguised himself as the attendant, put on his clothes and, after preparing the hookah, entered Khatif’s pavilion where he witnessed a lightning bolt flashing above the throne.
Amar called out, “The hookah is ready, Your Honor!” At these words, the lightning bolt stopped flashing; it drew together on the throne and materialized into a golden-skinned woman resplendent as the sun. As Amar presented the hookah, sorceress Khatif Lightning-Bolt glared at him. Amar took out the carafe of magic water he had stolen from the sorcerer Hoshiar, poured some water into his hand, and splashed it on Khatif’s face. She immediately fell unconscious, but before Amar could kill her the throne flew off to the sky, along with the unconscious Khatif. Amar was confounded by this marvel and ran to report what had transpired to Queen Mahrukh.
The moment Mahrukh received the news she sounded the magic bugles in her camp. Her army quickly readied itself and Mahrukh charged Khatif’s camp. Caught unprepared and by surprise, thousands of Khatif’s sorcerers died in the assault. The remainder readied themselves and fought back. Magic was deployed and detachments of enemy sorcerers charged and skirmished with the attackers. The cries of “Catch them! Imprison them!” rose in Khatif’s camp.
Sorcerers from both sides hurled thousands of magic citrons and magic coconuts. As they burst, fire-breathing dragons emerged and began swallowing enemy warriors. Hundreds of blazing arrows fell like a comet shower from the sky onto the combatants.
When Heyrat received these tidings she rushed to the battlefield and tried to repulse Mahrukh’s assault.
When the warriors raised their sword-wielding arms
Every earthly calamity “Bravo!” said
The majestic warriors then mightily charged
Disarraying from the shock even the sun in the heavens
The points of lances with every clash
Like so many sparklers, showered flames
The hearts of stones turned to water from the flash of swords
Like mercury, the mountains quivered from trumpet blasts
The arrows on their tail feathers so swiftly did fly
That even winged angels could not match their flight
So copiously did the mace and sword spark flames
Their abundance to a cinder burned entire forests
The waves of flowing blood dyed the saddles
The waves of blood dyed the whole forest crimson
As thousands of Khatif’s sorcerers had been killed, the rest could not stand their ground too long. They turned tail and retreated. Despite Heyrat’s efforts to stem the tide, she was helpless to keep her own army from losing ground as large swaths of Khatif’s retreating army swept them in waves.
Empress Heyrat struck the timbals to announce the cessation of hostilities. Mahrukh, who wished to avoid confronting Heyrat’s directly, readily turned back and the two armies finally retired to their camps to rest.
A musical assembly was soon underway in Mahrukh’s court, where everyone praised Amar Ayyar’s trickery.
SORCERESS MEHSHAR LIGHTNING-BOLT AND RAAD THUNDER-CLAP
In the meanwhile, the throne of sorceress Khatif arrived before Emperor Afrasiyab in the Apple Garden. He looked into the Book of Sameri, wherein he read the following:
“It was your own magic water with which Amar Ayyar humiliated her and rendered her unconscious. Amar would have killed her but because she is a powerful sorceress her magic spirits bore her away on the throne.”
Afrasiyab recited a counterspell to remove the magic from Khatif and she came to. Because she had been splashed with the powerful magic water, however, she became ill and the Emperor of Hoshruba gave her leave to return to her land.
Afrasiyab now sent a magic slave to summon sorceress Mehshar Lightning-Bolt. When Mehshar received the call she started out with great preparations, along with her sorcerer son, Raad Thunder-Clap, and arrived in the emperor’s court.
Afrasiyab said to her, “O Mehshar, I order you to assist the empress and fight the rebels.”
Sorceress Mehshar Lightning-Bolt took a hundred thousand sorcerers with her. Flying on the throne with lofty ambitions, flashing, raining flames, she and her son disappeared into the clouds, followed by their entire army and its tents and pavilions.
The marching army behind its commander
Was like the stars following the moon
The page of the field was scribbled
By the dark scrawling lines of riders and troopers
The myriad colors of their standards
Made the desert floor a colorful bouquet
Throwing the world into unearthly commotion
They caused a turmoil greater than a tempest
The gall of the Cow of the Earth they turned to water
Let alone the Earth, they made the heavens tremble
Countless like the grains of sand
The armies filled the horizon from end to end
Be it known that the Emperor of Hoshruba had constructed many sight-seeing stations and pleasant gardens for his excursions throughout the tilism. When sorceress Mehshar’s army was at two days’ distance from Mahrukh’s camp it halted in one such garden, situated in a lush, green forest.
A sorceress named Baran was the ruler of a nearby majestic mountain. She was unmatched in beauty and comeliness; many a sorcerer pined away for love of her. Mehshar’s son, Raad Thunder-Clap, was among those marked by the love of her calamitous beauty. When the army landed, Raad decided to soothe his eyes with the sight of his fairy-like beloved, and set out for her abode.
Upon arrival, he bribed one of Baran’s sorceress attendants with gold and jewels to inveigle her mistress to come out on the palace balcony so that her listless lover could derive some comfort in admiring her beauty.
The attendant brought Baran out on the balcony on some pretext. Enthralled by her beauty, Raad Thunder-Clap was lost in admiration.
In the meanwhile, Baran’s other lovers also arrived on the scene. Seeing Raad before the palace of their beloved, a blaze of jealousy lit up in their hearts. They cast a spell to render Raad deaf and mute and arrested and pinioned him. Then they led Raad into the wilderness to kill him, keeping far away from his mother’s camp.
At the same time, Amar arrived in the wilderness, thinking to himself, Sorceress Khatif escaped but it is certain that before long Afrasiyab will send another scourge on us.
Absorbed by these thoughts, Amar saw three sorcerers leading a young man into the wilderness as prisoner. From the youth’s noble physiognomy, Amar reckoned him to be a renowned sorcerer. Amar thought, If I deliver him from their clutches he might feel indebted to me and join our cause. Amar put on the dev jama that changed into seven different colors, adopting a new hue every moment. He covered his face with ten pasteboard masks that had several mouths from which snakelike tongues darted out. He stuck pasteboard arms onto his body and smeared it with a lotion that made every pore of his skin appear to spew flames. Then Amar blew the White Conch that struck terror even into the hearts of demons.
The sorcerers leading Raad into the wilderness froze in their tracks upon hearing the blast of the White Conch and felt their feet turn to sand. As they looked around with frightened eyes, Amar appeared. They beheld, advancing toward them, a ten-headed creature of horrible mien, whose body was covered with flames and whose attire changed colors from red to blue to black to green to yellow every moment.
Frightened out of their wits by this sight, the sorcerers prostrated themselves befo
re the creature. Amar called out, “I am the Angel of Death of Lord Laqa!” The sorcerers trembled with fear and asked, “What is the reason for your visit?” Amar answered, “I come to extract the soul of the sinner you lead to death. But your lives too, have reached their end and I must claim them too.”
The sorcerers entreated him, “O Angel of Death of Lord Laqa, tell us some way to defer our doom that we may taste of life’s pleasure awhile longer.” Amar answered, “If you offer alms, that may move Lord Laqa to show mercy on you.” The sorcerers bestowed on Amar all the gold and jewels they carried on their persons.
Amar took out an apple from his zambil and offered it to them, saying, “Each of you should eat a slice of this. It will extend your lives.” The three sorcerers had a piece each. After a moment, when the drug-laced apple’s effects were felt, they shouted, “O Angel of Death, we feel our hearts palpitating!” Amar answered, “It is because the blood vessels lengthen as one receives longevity.” The sorcerers soon fell unconscious and Amar unsheathed his dagger and beheaded all of them. The slain sorcerers’ magic spirits made a hue and cry and a racket rose.
Having been rendered deaf and mute by magic spells, Raad Thunder-Clap now regained the faculties of hearing and speech. Once the commotion subsided, he glared suspiciously at Amar, who said, “You glower at me now even though I saved your life?” Raad asked, “What is your name?” Amar answered, “I am an angel of Lord Laqa.”
Raad Thunder-Clap said, “O angel of our Lord, I was taken unawares by these sorcerers. I am the son of sorceress Mehshar Lightning-Bolt. With my magic I can dive into the ground to emerge beside the foe and roar like the sound of a thunder clap. The sound bursts the skulls of the enemies and even if mighty sorcerers should escape death, the impact of my thunder clap yet makes them fall unconscious. My mother strikes them in the form of a lightning bolt and can cleave them in two. Afrasiyab sent us to battle Mahrukh Magic-Eye and we are headed to decimate her camp.”
Amar said to himself, It was most fortunate that I ran into him. Otherwise they would have proved a terrible scourge. Now I must find a way to kill him too. While Amar made these calculations, a puff of cloud materialized and sorceress Mehshar Lightning-Bolt arrived on the scene. After she had found Raad missing from the camp, she searched for him frantically, anxious that no enemy trickster should kill her son.
Hoshruba Page 40