The Tale of Princess Fatima, Warrior Woman
Page 6
While the tribal elders of the Bani Kilab were gathered for a meeting, it had come to their attention that the wives of the brothers Zalim and Mazlum were both expecting, and so the brothers made a pact in the interests of their people. Zalim said to Mazlum, “He whose wife has a son will become the chief of the clan, with authority over all the Arabs in our region.”
One of the elders turned to Mazlum: “Do you agree to this?”
“Yes,” Mazlum replied, “and if we both have sons, then we will retain our shared leadership as it now stands.” The elders nodded in acknowledgment.
The two men returned to their wives and informed them of the agreement. Each wife exclaimed, “I have nothing to do with that! We’ll get whatever the Creator grants us!”
After a time, both women went into labor. Zalim’s wife, ʿIsam, delivered a boy like a little chunk of the moon itself. Zalim was beside himself with joy, but he turned to the midwife and asked her to go check on his brother’s wife, because he did not trust his brother. The midwife replied, “Surely not! How could he lie, when you are brothers?”
“Enough talk! Go to their place now. If you’re there, they won’t be able to hide anything, and yours is the word that I will believe. I’m relying on you.” The midwife went to Mazlum’s house, but it so happened that she respected Mazlum more than Zalim. So when she entered the house, she told Mazlum why she had been sent. Then she sat, waiting.
After a time, Mazlum’s wife, Salam, gave birth to a girl as magnificent as the full moon, with strong arms, broad shoulders, and fine features. Salam was apprehensive about her husband’s reaction. Indeed, Mazlum was so disappointed that he told her that if she chose, she could dispose of the girl! That way he could announce that the child was a boy and had not survived.
The midwife intervened. “Don’t harm the little girl! If you want my opinion, let the servingwomen take care of her. Just provide for her, and we will raise her. Don’t deprive her of smelling the air of this world. She may make you proud someday, just as Mary, daughter of ʿImran, was part of God’s plan. As for me, I swear by the sacred city of Medina, I’ll tell everybody that Mazlum’s wife had a boy who didn’t survive, and we buried him. Zalim will believe me, since I am from his household.”
Mazlum replied, “I accept your proposal; do as you see fit.” He called for a Turkish servingwoman named Suʿda. She had worked as a servant for many prominent households and had proven herself trustworthy. She was still nursing her infant son, Marzuq.2 Mazlum and Salam’s daughter was entrusted to her care, and she was warned to keep the newborn’s identity a secret.
The midwife returned to Zalim, saying, “Good news! Your brother’s wife had a son, but the baby died.”
“How is that good news?” Zalim asked.
“Because you have the only living son. No one can contest your authority.”
“Ah yes, well, I would have taken charge somehow.”
* * *
—
Suʿda kept the secret of the newborn’s identity. However, she also secretly took the newborn into her mother’s tent. There Salam would cuddle and nurse her tiny daughter. She named her Fatima. Mazlum would not come near the baby and refused to see her—to him, a girl child was only a burden.
When Fatima turned five, she looked old enough to pass for ten, and her beauty was surpassed only by her intelligence. When she turned six, her father grew more concerned about his daughter. He saw her as a liability, as likely as not to ruin his reputation and the status of his family. Before he could act on this concern, news arrived that the Bani Tayy clan was on the move, uniting all their bands and rallying the Arabs of Yemen. The Bani Tayy intended to attack the Bani Kilab, in retribution for the attack that Jundaba had carried out many years earlier.
Zalim exclaimed, “The Bani Tayy just sentenced their own deaths! They will go down in defeat! Who do they think we are?!” He called for Mazlum, saying, “Brother, we must meet them. We’ll unite our bands too, and then we’ll take them on, and leave the rest to God!”
The Bani Kilab met in council with their allies and then set out together. Zalim led the troops of Bani ʿAmir and Bani Kilab, and Mazlum led the Bani Wahid. They rode out to the camps of Bani Tayy, but when they arrived, the warriors of Bani Tayy were nowhere to be found—only children, servants, and women. So they divided up the people and the spoils of the Bani Tayy camp and returned to their own lands, driving the new herds in their wake.
The warriors of Bani Tayy had been absent because they had set out earlier in the direction of the Bani Kilab lands. They had chosen a different route, and so the two armies had bypassed each other. When the Bani Tayy reached the lands of the Bani Kilab and found the camps unprotected, they too divided up the people and livestock for themselves. They formed two groups: camels and servants in the first (including Suʿda and Fatima), and women and children in the second. Then the two groups set out on different paths, both agreeing to meet up in the lands of Bani Tayy.
This was how the Bani Kilab and the Bani Tayy, together with many captives, finally met in the dark of night. The two clans attacked each other, screaming, struggling, and fighting. The men clashed swords, and many wives became widows. The battle continued until morning light. Mazlum and Zalim killed many of the Bani Tayy, felling warriors and freeing captives. In all the uproar, it gradually became clear that the Bani Tayy had lost. The Bani Kilab returned to their own lands, bringing with them more wealth than they had ever had before. According to their custom, they divided up the spoils among the men who had distinguished themselves in battle. Fatima’s mother mourned her missing daughter, but Mazlum was relieved to be rid of his secret burden.
* * *
—
The Bani Tayy troop that had taken charge of the camels and servants from the Bani Kilab arrived safely in the lands of Bani Tayy. Suʿda had with her Marzuq and Fatima, and everyone assumed that Fatima was Suʿda’s daughter. The troops asked Suʿda, “What is your daughter’s name? She does not look like you.”
Suʿda replied, “She is my daughter, but her name might be difficult for you to pronounce. Name her as you see fit.”
“We shall name her Shariha.”
“As you wish. From this day forward, we are in your service.”
Fatima had no patience for humiliation, and at this she hissed at Suʿda, “Stop talking like that! Or, by the pride of the great Arabs, and the truth of the One, I’ll kill myself. I am no slave!” And she tugged a veil across her face, because face veiling was not customary for servants. Even the sun could not see her face fully. “I will serve no one but the Creator! Surely our people will rescue us from this misfortune, and crush the Bani Tayy!” Crying, she switched to poetry:
We’ll teach you, wolves in sheep’s clothing!
If they don’t bring us our mounts, tall and free,
By the Prophet, the Chosen One,
The best of people, a great mercy,
If they don’t return us to our people,
Gracious and proper, an act of chivalry,
Then they’ll see what our people are made of—
They’ll teach them a lesson, or two or three!
For fate cannot dictate
Victory for the unjust, you see.
When the Bani Tayy heard her poetry, they said, “By the pride of the Arabs, what a brave and heroic girl!”
Fatima and Suʿda were allotted to a Bani Tayy troop leader named Ahmed bin Mushir, and they went to live on his land. He treated Fatima and Suʿda relatively well and set them the task of herding the camels and horses. Fatima kept to herself, riding the horses and learning the arts of war on her own—attack and retreat, lining up for battle, pursuit, defense, and charging. She made weapons from tree branches, leaves, and reeds. Whenever a camel stallion opposed her, she would shout at him, clinging to the stallion’s mate until he surrendered. The servants were impressed by her, but F
atima focused on her inner life. By the age of seven, she could fast a full day, repeating to herself the name of God (Allah). The Bani Tayy began to call her “Shariha the Mystic.” She continued to cover her face with a veil, according to the fashion of a noblewoman. As time passed, she grew more mature in appearance and speech. She rode her masters’ horses discreetly and carefully watched the warriors practicing in a cleared field.
One day, a mighty Bani Tayy warrior named Qarih appeared. He saw Fatima riding and attempted to seduce her. Fatima saw what he wanted, and she lost her temper, yelling, “Get out of here, you most disgusting of all Arabs!” He continued harassing her until she insulted and cursed him, swearing and damning him. He left, but he still desired her. She fled to her master’s house, crying and trembling.
“What happened?”
“Sir, Qarih insulted me. Tell him to leave me alone, or I will destroy him!”
Troubled, Ahmed set out to speak with Qarih. “Qarih, my servant girl came to me, complaining that you tried to take advantage of her. Don’t do it again, or that day will be your last. If you really want her, then make it legitimate by asking for her hand in marriage.”
“You want me to marry your servant girl? I don’t think so. I’ll have nothing to do with her.” So Fatima’s master returned home and told her about the conversation.
The next day, when Fatima was out herding the animals, she felt at peace because of her master’s words. Then Qarih appeared, as determined as ever. “So you told on me to your master! You think I take orders from him? Where is he now? Who’s going to save you from me?”
“Don’t you dare! Get away from me!”
She threw stones at him, and he left, saying, “I’ll get you.”
Fatima went to her master again, shaking like a palm leaf. “Sir, the dirty bastard came back and threatened me again today. If you don’t do something about it, I’m going to have his head.”
Her master thought to himself, This is getting serious. The boy is an idiot, and the girl carries herself as if she were a noblewoman. I think I should inform the clan leader.
Arriving before the leader, Ahmed explained his predicament. “Sir, my servant girl has brought a complaint against Qarih. I am concerned that he will continue to harass her.”
Qarih was sent for, and when he arrived, the clan leader spoke to him: “Qarih, what is between you and this man’s servant girl? If you bother her, it will be your undoing. Marry her, or cease and desist.”
“Your Honor, I was just playing around. I was never really serious about her.”
Fatima was present and interjected, “Your Eminence, if he threatens me after this, I will kill him.”
“You’re a clever one! If he continues to harass you, it’s between you and him.”
“Yes, Sir,” said Fatima, who then departed.
The next day, Fatima went out to the pasture area as usual, caring for the livestock. At midday, Qarih appeared. His passion was inflamed, and he rode a fine horse as dark as night. He prided himself on his bravery and strength, so he rode straight for Fatima. When she saw that he was coming for her, she fled for the bush, which made him even more determined to possess her. His horse cantered after her until she ran out of sight of the livestock. Then he began to overtake her, and Fatima turned to confront him. “Sir, what possesses you to torment me?”
“My passion for you, and your complaints to your master.”
Talking smoothly, she put him at ease, “I never put you off out of loathing. I was only afraid that if you succeeded, then I would be in danger of losing my heart without ever having yours. If you’ll be mine, then I’ll be yours!”
“Woe is me! As if a person could just separate his body from his soul and accept the pain of distance from such beauty.”
“If that’s the case, then give me your hand in marriage,” said Fatima.
“Here’s my hand,” he replied. Fatima approached, her hand extended, and then pulled with all the strength of her arm. He found himself on the ground, his sword fallen out of its sheath. Quicker than lightning, she struck him with his own sword, and he crashed to the ground. The commotion alerted the herders, and they saw the horse loose. Finding the corpse, they put it on the horse and took it back to the encampment. Fatima returned to her master’s house breathless.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sir, I’ve killed Qarih.”
Fatima’s master put his hands to his head—his whole world started to spin. “You’ve ruined me, you bastard girl!” He seized her and brought her before the clan leader.
When Qarih’s brothers saw his body, they demanded to know who was responsible. The servants said, “The Fiend of Bani Tayy did it.” At this, the brothers drew their swords and went in search of Fatima’s master, for it was the custom to take revenge against a slave on the slave’s master. When they arrived at the Bani Tayy encampment, they learned that Fatima’s master had sought sanctuary with the clan leader. They continued to the clan leader, and there they demanded the customary retribution of Fatima’s master’s life to avenge their brother’s death. Fatima’s master pointed at her: “Take her! She’s the killer, so kill her to avenge his death!” They refused, saying that she acted on her master’s orders, and her actions were his responsibility.
To appease the brothers, Fatima’s master had to give them all his wealth—one thousand camels, twenty horses, ten coats of mail, ten swords, and ten spears. His band agreed that Fatima should be killed for his loss. They tied her up in one of the tents, and he entered, holding a whip. “You’ve ruined me! I have nothing left!”
Ahmed raised his arm to strike her, but Fatima said, “I will make it up to you.”
Ahmed’s arm dropped to his side, and Fatima continued. “I can bring you the wealth that you lost if you’ll give me a horse, a sword, a helmet, a coat of mail, a leather shield, and a spear.”
“How would you do that?”
“I’d ride the horse, wear the armor, and go bring you the wealth of the Arabs. I’m capable enough to fight anyone, even the best. By God, I’ll bring you more wealth than you lost for my sake.” He freed her and brought her what she requested. She donned the armor, retaining a light veil over her face. Adding a turban, she set out, with Marzuq accompanying her as her assistant.
She traveled for seven days, and on the eighth day she came upon a vibrantly green land filled with herbs, flowers, and plants, as well as birds calling to one another in all their languages. Off to one side roamed great herds with their herders. There was such plentiful water that the camels alone numbered more than a thousand. The horses, sheep, and goats were not few, and the servants were living a life of ease.
This wealth belonged to an Arab warrior named Darma. He had moved to this land by himself, with one thousand warriors in his service. When Fatima saw all this abundance, she rejoiced that she would be able to ransom herself. She overcame the servants and seized the livestock, driving them all before her. The servants all thought she must be a man, not to mention one of the greatest heroes of their time. One of them said to her, “Only the ignorant take on more than they can handle. Do you know who these belong to? This is the property of Darma. If you’re not careful, he’ll be your undoing.” She struck him with her sword, and her ferocity fell into the hearts of all the herders. They drove the herds before her.
Suddenly a great cry rang out behind her. She saw a warrior tearing after her like a massive lion just freed. She knew that this was Darma, and she came to meet his attack.
He said, “You’re in for it now, boy! You have no idea what you’ve taken on!” Fatima said nothing. With a cry, she stabbed him. He fell to the ground, and she left him.
Meeting up with Marzuq, Fatima traveled so swiftly it was like folding the land by length and by width. When she neared the Bani Tayy encampment, the herds she led filled the land as far as the eye could see. The Bani Tayy watched, wondering where al
l the livestock had come from, and then Fatima appeared in the distance. When Fatima’s master heard the news, he rejoiced and rode out to meet her.
As soon as she spied Ahmed, Fatima dismounted and dropped to the ground in front of him. “Sir, for the one thousand mares that were taken from you, here are four thousand camels, both mares and stallions. There is also other livestock and equipment, and people to tend them.” He was impressed, and all those present began to whisper about her success.
“How did you acquire all this livestock?”
“They belonged to a man called Darma. I triumphed over him with my own strength.”
Ahmed praised her for her great deeds, and the news spread far and wide. Fatima became a commonplace character in conversation, and although some people continued to call her the Fiend of Bani Tayy, eventually she was referred to by the honorific amira, or princess, and the nickname Dhat al-Himma, or warrior.3 Along with her new reputation, she acquired her own tents and lands.
Fatima undertook another raid, although Ahmed discouraged her from putting herself in danger. When Fatima returned successful, Ahmed joined the throngs that went out to meet her and the new herds that she brought. When Fatima saw Ahmed, she dismounted and went to greet him. She divided the spoils, giving half to Ahmed and keeping the other half for herself. The people of Bani Tayy shared in the celebratory atmosphere, some creating poetry in admiration of Fatima. Ahmed asked, “Where did all this come from?”
Fatima replied, “Sir, these belonged to Hassan al-Fazari.”
When he heard her words, Ahmed became fearful of her capabilities, and he thought to himself, I should marry her. Everyone is following her these days, and lining up to join her. Her reputation is growing, and tales of her are spreading. She has made me a wealthy man, and she is becoming a legend. . . .