When morning broke, the Muslims came to the battlefield in the light of dawn, while the infidels prepared for the fight. The Muslims advanced, drawing their swords and ready to join battle, while Dau’ al-Makan and Afridun prepared to charge each other. Dau’ al-Makan rode out on to the field, and with him were the vizier Dandan, the chamberlain and the emir Bahram, who told him: ‘We are your ransom.’ ‘I swear by the Holy House, Zamzam and the Maqam of Abraham that I shall not hold back from sallying out against the unbelievers,’ said Dau’ al-Makan. When he reached the battlefield, he juggled with his sword and spear, astonishing the riders and amazing both sides. Then he charged the right wing and killed two officers, after which he killed another two on the left. Next, he halted in the centre of the field and called: ‘Where is Afridun, that I may make him taste the torment of disgrace?’
In his folly the damned man was about to attack, but when King Hardub saw that, he urged him not to go out against Dau’ al-Makan, saying: ‘King, you fought yesterday, but today it is my turn and his bravery does not worry me.’ He rode out, sword in hand, mounted on a roan horse like ‘Antar’s Abjar, matching the poet’s description:
He outstripped sight on a fine race horse,
As though he wished to overtake fate.
Its colour is darkest black,
Like night when night is murky.
Its whinny delights those who hear it,
With a sound like rumbling thunder.
Were it to race the wind, the wind would be outstripped,
Nor could a lightning flash forestall it.
Each rider now charged the other, warding off blows and displaying the amazing powers that they possessed, advancing and retreating until the uneasy spectators could scarcely bear to wait for the destined end. Then Dau’ al-Makan gave a shout and attacked the Armenian king, launching a blow which struck off his head and killed him. When the infidels saw that, they launched a concerted attack. Dau’ al-Makan met them on the field of battle, and the cutting and thrusting went on until blood poured down in floods. The Muslims shouted the formulae of the glorification and unity of God, invoking blessing on the evangelist, the warner. The fighting was furious and God assigned victory to the Muslims and disgrace to the unbelievers. ‘Take revenge for King ‘Umar and for his son, Sharkan,’ shouted the vizier Dandan, and baring his head he called to the Turks, more than twenty thousand of whom were at his side. They charged with him in a single body and all that the infidels could do was to turn their backs in flight. The sharp swords did their work among them; some fifty thousand riders were killed and more than that number were captured, with many being killed in the press at the entrance to the city gate.
The gate was then shut and the Rumis mounted the walls, fearing that they would be made to suffer further. The Muslims, having been granted aid and victory by God, returned to their tents. Dau’ al-Makan went in to see his brother and found him full of joy. He prostrated himself in gratitude to the Generous and Exalted God and then, going up to Sharkan, he congratulated him on being restored to health. Sharkan told him: ‘All of us enjoy the blessing of this devout ascetic, and you owe your victory to his prayers, which God has answered. For he has spent the whole day praying for a Muslim victory.’
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the one hundred and fourth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that when Dau’ al-Makan came to his brother, he found him sitting with the ‘ascetic’. He went up to him to congratulate him on being restored to health and Sharkan told him: ‘All of us enjoy the blessing of this devout ascetic, and you owe your victory to his prayers, which God has answered. For he has spent the whole day praying for a Muslim victory. I felt myself strengthened when I heard your cry of “Allahu akbar!” for I realized that you had defeated the enemy. So tell me what happened to you, brother.’
Dau’ al-Makan then told him the whole story of his encounter with Hardub the damned, how he had killed him and how God’s curse had taken him. Sharkan praised him and thanked him for his efforts, but when Dhat al-Dawahi, disguised as the ‘ascetic’, heard of the death of her son, she turned pale and her eyes brimmed with tears. Concealing this, however, she pretended to the Muslims that she was weeping from an excess of joy, but to herself she said: ‘I swear by the Messiah that there will be no profit in my life if I do not cause his heart to burn with grief for his brother Sharkan, as he has burned mine in sorrow for the pillar of Christianity and the people of the Cross, King Hardub.’
She concealed her feelings, while the vizier Dandan, King Dau’ al-Makan and the chamberlain stayed sitting with Sharkan, until they had produced poultices and unguents and given him medicine. To their great joy he was restored to full health, and the Muslims, delighted to be told the news, said: ‘Tomorrow he will ride out with us and set about the siege.’ Sharkan said to his visitors: ‘You are tired after having fought today. You should go back to your own quarters and sleep, rather than staying awake.’ They agreed to this and each went to his own pavilion, leaving only a few servants with Sharkan, together with Dhat al-Dawahi. He talked with her for a time during the night and then lay down to sleep, as did the servants, until, overwhelmed by drowsiness, they lay like the dead.
So much for Sharkan and his servants, but as for Dhat al-Dawahi, when they had fallen asleep, she alone was awake in the tent. Looking at Sharkan, and finding him sunk in sleep, she jumped to her feet like a hairless bear or a spotted snake. From her waistband she took a poisoned dagger which, had it been placed on a rock, would have caused it to melt away. Unsheathing this, she came to Sharkan’s head and, drawing it across his throat, she slaughtered him and proceeded to cut his head from his body. She then got up and went to the sleeping servants whose heads she also cut off lest they wake. After leaving the tent, she went to that of the sultan, but here the guards were not sleeping and so she went on to the tent of the vizier Dandan, whom she found reciting the Quran. Catching sight of her, he said: ‘Welcome to the pious ascetic.’ Her heart fluttered when she heard this and she told him: ‘I came here because I heard the voice of one of God’s saints and I am on my way to him.’
She then turned away and Dandan said to himself: ‘By God, I shall follow the ascetic tonight.’ He got up and walked behind her, but she became conscious of his footsteps and realized that he was following her. Afraid of being exposed, she said to herself: ‘If I don’t manage to trick him, he will find me out.’ So she turned to him from a distance and said: ‘Vizier, I am following this saint to find out who he is. After that, I shall ask him to allow you to come, and then I shall return and tell you, but I’m afraid that if you come with me without his leave, he may shy away on seeing you in my company.’
When the vizier heard that, he was too ashamed to make any reply, and going back to his tent, he tried to sleep, but the pleasure of sleep eluded him and the world seemed to be closing in on him. He got up and left his tent, telling himself that he would go to Sharkan and talk with him until morning. So he went off, but when he entered Sharkan’s tent, he found blood flowing in a stream, and he saw the servants lying with their necks severed. The cry that he uttered aroused the sleepers and people came hurrying up, bursting into noisy tears and sobs when they saw the streams of blood. This woke Dau’ al-Makan, and when he asked what the matter was, he was told that Sharkan, his brother, and his servants had been killed. He got up quickly, went to the tent, where the vizier Dandan was screaming, and there he found the headless body of his brother. He lost consciousness, while all the troops cried out, wept and crowded around him until he came to his senses.
He then wept bitterly, looking at Sharkan, as did the vizier, Rustam and Bahram, while the chamberlain not only cried out and lamented profusely but, such was his fear, that he asked leave to go. ‘Don’t you know who did this to my brother?’ asked Dau’ al-Makan, ‘and why don’t I see the ascetic who has abandoned the delights of this world?’ ‘Who was it,’ said the viz
ier, ‘who brought these sorrows on us except this devil, the ascetic? From the beginning my heart recoiled from him as I know that all religious fanatics are evil, scheming men.’ He repeated to the king the story of how he had tried to follow the ‘man’, and had failed. The people wept and wailed aloud, calling on God, Who is near at hand and Who answers prayer, that the ‘ascetic’, the denier of God’s signs, might fall into their hands. They then prepared Sharkan’s corpse for burial and buried it on the mountain mentioned earlier, grieving for his widely famed merit.
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the one hundred and fifth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that they then prepared Sharkan’s corpse for burial and buried it on the mountain mentioned earlier, grieving for his widely famed merit. The Muslims then waited for the gate of Constantinople to be opened, but this did not happen and no signs could be seen of the garrison on the walls. This took them by surprise, and Dau’ al-Makan said: ‘By God, I shall not turn away from them even if I have to wait for years before taking revenge for my brother. I shall lay the city in ruins and kill the kings of Christendom, even if I have to die in the process and find rest from this evil world.’ On his orders, the wealth taken from the monastery of Matruhina was produced and distributed to the army which had been mustered, with each man receiving a gift sufficient for his needs. He then collected three hundred riders from each division and told them to send home enough to cover their families’ living expenses, repeating that it was his intention to stay where he was for years to avenge Sharkan, his brother, even if it cost him his life.
When his men heard this, they took the money that they had been given and obeyed his orders. He then summoned his couriers and gave them letters and money to be delivered to the soldiers’ homes. Their families were to be told that their men were safe and at ease, and that the army was besieging Constantinople and would sack it or perish, whether this took months or years, and that it would only leave when the city had fallen. Dau’ al-Makan told the vizier Dandan to write to his sister, Nuzhat al-Zaman, telling her what had happened to them and what their current situation was. She was to be asked to look after Dau’ al-Makan’s child, as his wife had been on the point of giving birth when he had left and the child must now have been born. He added to the courier: ‘If it is a boy, as I have heard, hurry back and give me the news.’ The couriers were provided with money and they set out with it immediately after the soldiers had come out to see them off and to tell them what to do with what they themselves had been given. The king then went to the vizier Dandan and told him to order the army to advance close to the city wall. They did so, but were surprised to find that no one appeared on the wall. This worried the king; he was saddened by the loss of his brother and perplexed about the treacherous ‘ascetic’, and the army stayed there for three days, without seeing a soul.
So much for the Muslims, but as for the Rumis, the reason that they did not fight for these three days was that when Dhat al-Dawahi had killed Sharkan, she hurried to the wall and shouted to the guards in the Rumi tongue, telling them to lower her a rope. ‘Who are you?’ they asked, but when she told them that she was Dhat al-Dawahi, they recognized her and let down a rope to which she tied herself. They pulled her up, and when she reached the top, she went to the emperor and said: ‘What is this that I hear from the Muslims? They said that my son, Hardub, has been killed.’ ‘He has indeed,’ said Afridun, at which she cried out and wept and went on weeping until she drew tears from Afridun himself and all who were present with him. Then she told him how she had severed the necks of Sharkan and thirty of his servants. He was pleased at this and thanked her, kissing her hands and praying that she might find patience to endure the loss of her son. ‘By the Messiah,’ she replied, ‘I won’t be content with killing one Muslim dog in revenge for one of the kings of the age. I must work a trick and think up a ruse to kill King Dau’ al-Makan, together with the vizier Dandan, the chamberlain, Rustam, Bahram and ten thousand riders from the Muslim army. Sharkan’s head is not and never will be a sufficient price for the head of my son.’ Then she said to Afridun: ‘Know, king of the age, that I wish to arrange to mourn my son, cutting my girdle and breaking the crosses.’ ‘Do as you wish,’ said Afridun, ‘for I shall not disobey you in anything. However long your mourning lasts, this will be a small matter, for even if the Muslims were to besiege us for years, they will not achieve what they want from us and they will get nothing but toil and weariness.’
When the damned woman had finished with the calamity that she had brought about and the shameful acts for which she was responsible, she took an inkstand together with paper and wrote: ‘From Dhat al-Dawahi of the evil eye to the Muslims: know that I entered your lands, using my dishonour to deceive your honour. First I killed your king, ‘Umar ibn al-Nu‘man, in his own palace. Then, in the battle of the ravine and the cave, I killed many men, while the last of my victims was Sharkan, together with his servants. If Time aids me and the devil obeys me, I shall certainly kill your king together with the vizier Dandan. It was I who came to you disguised as an ascetic, when I worked my tricks and my wiles on you. If you want to be safe now, leave at once, but if you want to bring destruction on yourselves, stay here, and even if you stay for years, you will get nothing from us that you want. Farewell.’ After having written this letter, she remained in mourning for King Hardub for three days. On the fourth, she summoned an officer and told him to take the paper, fix it to an arrow and shoot it towards the Muslims. After that, she went to the church, where she began to lament and weep for the loss of her son, telling his successor on the throne that she meant to kill Dau’ al-Makan and all the Muslim emirs.
So much for her, but as for the Muslims, they spent three days filled with care and sorrow and on the fourth, when they looked towards the city wall, they saw an officer carrying an arrow to whose head was fixed a letter. They waited until he shot it towards them, and the sultan then told the vizier to read it out. When he did this and Dau’ al-Makan heard what was in it, his eyes filled with tears and he cried out in anger at her trickery. ‘My heart always recoiled from her,’ said Dandan, while the king exclaimed: ‘How did this harlot come to trick us twice? By God, I shall not turn away from here until I have filled her vagina with molten lead, caged her like a bird, tied her up by her hair and crucified her over the gate of Constantinople.’ He then wept bitterly, remembering his brother, while the infidels, when Dhat al-Dawahi had told them what had happened, were glad to hear of Sharkan’s death and that she herself was safe.
The Muslims went back to the gate of Constantinople and the king promised them that if he took the city, he would divide its spoils equally between them. His tears continued to flow in grief for his brother and his body became so emaciated that it was like a tooth-pick. The vizier Dandan came to visit him and said: ‘Take heart and console yourself. Your brother died at his appointed time and there is no profit in this grief. The poet has put it well:
What is not to happen will never happen by a trick,
While that which is to happen will take place,
And what is fated comes at its own time,
Although the fool will always be deceived.
So give up your tears and lamentation and nerve yourself to take up arms.’
‘Vizier,’ replied Dau’ al-Makan, ‘my heart is filled with care because of my brother’s death and because we are absent from our own lands, and I am concerned for my subjects.’ The vizier shed tears, as did all those who were present, but they stayed for a time laying siege to Constantinople. When they were there, news was brought from Baghdad by an emir that the wife of King Dau’ al-Makan had given birth to a boy whom his sister, Nuzhat al-Zaman, had named Kana-ma-Kana.* The remarkable and marvellous qualities that he possessed showed that the child was destined for greatness. The emir continued: ‘Your sister has ordered the religious scholars and the preachers to pray for you from the pulpits and
at the conclusion of every prayer. We are flourishing; the rains have been plentiful; your friend the furnace man is enjoying great prosperity and has many eunuchs and servants, but he still doesn’t know what has happened to you. Goodbye.’ ‘It has given me strength,’ said Dau’ al-Makan, ‘to hear that I now have a son, Kana-ma-Kana.’
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the one hundred and sixth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that King Dau’ al-Makan was delighted to hear that his wife had given birth to a son. ‘It has given me strength,’ he said, ‘to hear that I now have a son, Kana-ma-Kana.’ He then said to Dandan: ‘I propose to leave aside my mourning and to arrange for recitations of the whole Quran in memory of my brother, as well as for acts of charity.’ Dandan approved of this and Dau’ al-Makan gave orders for tents to be pitched over Sharkan’s grave. He collected from among the troops those who could recite the Quran, and while some of them did this, others glorified God until morning. Then the king came to his brother’s grave, shed tears and recited these lines:
The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1 Page 63