by The Tale of Princess Fatima, Warrior Woman- The Arabic Epic of Dhat al-Himma (retail) (epub)
The amira clasped his arm and thanked him. Then she shouted after ʿAbdelwahhab. He dismounted and was surrounded by all those present. They congratulated him, and his chest swelled with pride. News of his prowess spread far and wide.
* * *
—
ʿAbdelwahhab and Princess Fatima rode together every day. They hunted with ʿAbdullah and a company of Bani Kilab warriors. One day, the group had spread out in the wilderness. The heat of the day was rising. ʿAbdelwahhab was with his guardsmen, and together they had amassed more gazelles and wild animals than they could carry.
They were preparing to return when suddenly ʿAbdelwahhab found himself a little ahead of the rest, facing a huge lion. The shady trees had obscured his tawny hide. He had a stubby, flat nose and threatening eyes. His roar reverberated off the canyon walls. The atmosphere seemed to darken, rolling with thunder. When he snarled, his breath rose in steam. His claws could crush rocks, his fangs were like scythes, and his mouth like a well. He moved like a bull, but bigger. As soon as the amir saw the beast, he urged his horse forward. He held his bare sword in his right hand, and in his left he held a leather shield. He approached with his heart as solid as a rock.
The lion stood his ground, roaring, his paws hitting the ground. His eyes flashed, and he charged at the amir. When the lion was within reach, ʿAbdelwahhab struck him with his sword, slicing the lion down the middle, head to tail.
In their concern, ʿAbdelwahhab’s guardsmen had ridden to Princess Fatima: “Amira, your son is in danger! He’s facing a ghadanfar lion!2
The amira instantly gave her horse loose reins and rushed toward her son. ʿAbdullah, ʿAmr, and the others followed closely behind. They came upon ʿAbdelwahhab and were amazed both by the size of the lion and by its halved state.
The amira said, “My son, don’t let it go to your head. Killing a wild beast is not as hard as fighting a knight.” Those who heard were struck by her tough love.
They remembered how the caliph had foreseen that ʿAbdelwahhab was destined for greatness. News of the young amir’s exploits spread so far that they reached the lands of the Rum.
THE STORY OF NURA1
The Muslims, led by Princess Fatima and her son, were carrying out campaigns against seven Byzantine castles inhabited by the sons of King Aqritash. Having conquered the fourth castle, ʿAbdelwahhab led a group of warriors toward the fifth. Known as the Blood Castle, it was constructed of red stone and inhabited by King ʿAyn al-Masih. When ʿAbdelwahhab reached the river, he found that the bridge had been cut. “What shall we do?” he asked.
Everyone turned to the clever Al-Battal for a solution. Taking some lion skins, Al-Battal made coracles, tying the packs of provisions into place at the bottom of each one. The company then crossed the river, some in the coracles and others riding bareback. They noticed a nearby structure, shining with light—Dayr al-dhahab, or Cloister of Gold, which overlooked the Meadow of Saffron.
Curious, Al-Battal crept up to the walls to scout the perimeter. He found that it was quite large, with light emanating from its windows, and he could hear laughter, singing, and merriment from within. Scaling the wall and peeking through the windows, he saw ten beautiful young women and three monks passing around cups of wine and singing. Al-Battal found himself transfixed by the central woman, who was like a full moon surrounded by stars. His heart burned, and his mind spun. He stared as she engaged each of her female companions in wrestling matches until she had defeated them all.
Then she called to a nun, who entered the room, and she asked the nun to tell her the latest news regarding the Arabs and the Rum. The nun recounted the news of the two sides, particularly the exploits of Al-Battal and his trickery, and how he outwitted the Rum time and again. Nura, the leader of the women and the daughter of the local ruler, replied, “I wish I could meet him someday.” The princess Nura had always been attracted only to other women, but she found Al-Battal intriguing.2 Playfully, she called, “Come join us, Al-Battal!”
Al-Battal promptly jumped through one of the open windows. Delighted to see him, the women brought him food and drink. Al-Battal sat and regaled them with tales. Nura felt herself falling for him. “Go play,” she instructed her companions, “so he can see your prowess.” Thoroughly enjoying himself, Al-Battal asked, “My Lady, holder of my heart, I have some companions waiting outside. Shall we have them come in and join your ladies in the tussle?”
“But of course! Call them in.”
Al-Battal ran to the window and summoned them. The entire company climbed in through the windows: ʿAbdelwahhab, Lulu, Abu l-Hazahiz, Rashid, Maymun, Mudrika, ʿAbdullah, and Tariq. Unfortunately, ʿAbdelwahhab too was dazzled by Nura, staring at her openly. Nura’s companions laughed.
“Al-Battal, come take me down!” Nura called out.
“Certainly!” Al-Battal had every intention of winning, but then Nura changed her outer garment, tied back her long hair, and pushed her sleeves up over her arms. Al-Battal moved toward her, but as he grasped her, his mind went foggy, and she threw him to the floor. “Tie him up,” she said to her companions. Then the newcomers wanted a turn. Nura had them choose lots to determine who was next, and one after another, she threw them down, until all of them were tied up.
They complained, “You only beat us because of your looks!”
“Probably,” she agreed. “You are all clearly brave and capable.” Then she directed her companions to load them up.
“Where are you taking us?” asked ʿAbdelwahhab.
“To the lands of the Rum!”
“I entreat you, let the others go. I will stay and serve you.”
“We all will!” joked Abu l-Hazahiz.
Nura laughed. “All right, you’re free to go wherever you please!”
Suddenly a monk entered the room, addressing Nura: “The bishop wishes to speak with you.”
“Show him in!”
Bishop Shumadris entered, greeting Nura and explaining the reason for his visit. On hearing concerning news, he had traveled night and day to the River of Blood and the Meadow of Saffron, entering the castle of her father, King ʿAyn al-Masih.
The king had welcomed him and asked after the other castles. Shumadris had informed him of their destruction and the fierceness of the enemy, including their ample weaponry and purebred Arabian horses. “They don’t just win a battle; they level the other side! And if they overpower a castle, they take it over for themselves! Their amir is widely revered, and he has a companion full of wiles and cunning. The stories I could tell! Their company arrived today at the River of Blood, and I came to warn you. You must be on your guard!”
The king had laughed so hard that one could see all his teeth, and his eyes watered. “You are afraid of him, Father? I promise you that if they show themselves around here, they will regret it. You know my strength and determination. As for my daughter Nura, she could defeat twenty thousand Rum warriors. She is the one who collects the taxes for property and other administrative duties from the Greeks. Kings have asked for her hand in marriage, but she remains unconquered by any warrior. Even the Sasanians revere her. After all, she’s my daughter, so she’s no weakling!”
“How can you leave your daughter alone in a remote cloister with the Muslims’ armies approaching your castle, having conquered all the other castles?”
“I sent her a warning, but she assured me that there was nothing to worry about. Believe me, even if they brought soldiers as numerous as the sand, I’d dispatch them with my sword and my spear. I won’t let anyone reach you!”
“I must go to her and tell her of my concern. I will bring her back to the castle. We can never be too careful!”
* * *
—
When ʿAbdelwahhab saw Shumadris enter the cloister hall, he paled and forgot everything, including his infatuation with Nura. Shumadris had eyes for no one but the princess. She was glowing, sweat on her brow, her hair still tied
back, and her waist wrapped. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes shining. Shumadris embraced her, kissing her cheeks and her forehead. ʿAbdelwahhab shot Abu l-Hazahiz a look of annoyance. Al-Battal whispered, “I hope she doesn’t tell him about us!”
Suddenly Shumadris said, “Why do you look like you just won a fight?”
She laughed. “Because I have, Father. I was just wrestling with my companions, as we do. Then the Sister was telling us the latest news about the Arabs and the Rum.” She told him all that happened, and Shumadris’s heart sung with joy.
“May the Messiah help you, Princess! Do you know who you have captured?”
“Come see for yourself!” He accompanied the princess to view the prisoners, hardly believing their good fortune. On seeing Al-Battal, he positively cackled. “Your end has come, you despicable lout! I’ll be rid of you yet!” He made his way down the line, exclaiming and threatening, and then returned. “Princess, these are the great heroes of the enemy!” His eyes fell upon ʿAbdelwahhab, and he shouted, “You’ve taken the amir himself!”
“Really?” She turned to ʿAbdelwahhab: “Are you the enemy leader?”
“Yes, I am. Do with me as you see fit.”
Shumadris called out, “Bring me chains!” He slipped heavy shackles around one ankle of each man. Having secured them with iron, he pounced on Nura’s jeweled sword.
“What are you intending to do, Father?”
“Kill them, and leave not one prisoner! I don’t trust them, and I certainly don’t want more enemy troops to arrive and use them as bargaining chips.”
“Listen, Father. I don’t want to kill any of them until my father has seen them. Tomorrow we’ll go fight the enemy.”
“Take care, My Lady. The amira Dhat al-Himma is the most dangerous person on earth.”
“Who’s that?”
“She is the mother of this Black amir. She’s like a stubborn lioness.” He described her bravery, her abilities, and her strength.
“Father, if this is how their women are, then what are their men like?”
“She’ll surprise you, pulling moves you’ve never seen among the Rum, or among the Arabs, for that matter.”
“No more about her until I can face her in the square myself.” Nura looked at the prisoners, shaking her head and laughing.
Abu l-Hazahiz said, “It’s not your fault. It’s the fault of those who wrestled with you and wanted to marry you. We never would have had to deal with Shumadris if we hadn’t come in here.”
Nura just laughed at them, saying to her companions, “Look at these lions!”
* * *
—
Princess Fatima, noting the lengthening absence of her son and his companions, set out the next morning with one hundred warriors to discover their whereabouts. She left the army in command of Saʿid, saying, “The amir has been gone since yesterday morning, and I’m not sure what happened to him. My heart tells me I need to go find out.”
The amira rode in search of her son until she reached the cloister, but she found no one there. Puzzled and concerned, she retraced her steps and found that her own camp was covered in a cloud of dust.
She sent a group of scouts ahead. “Leave your horses and tell us what you see.”
“As you wish.” They returned with tears in their eyes.
“What is it?”
“Amira, King ʿAyn al-Masih has vanquished our army. Everyone has scattered and fled.”
Princess Fatima’s chest tightened, and her world turned upside down. “Of all the times for ʿAbdelwahhab and his friends to disappear! They must have a good reason. There is no power or strength but God’s.” Her horse picked up its trot, and Fatima gradually regathered the army.
It so happened that when Princess Fatima had set out to find her son, King ʿAyn al-Masih had arrived with the soldiers of his castle and the surrounding region. His troops numbered eighty thousand. On seeing Princess Fatima’s army, the king was eager to attack, but suddenly a messenger sent by Shumadris arrived. On hearing about Nura’s capture of the enemy commanders and Shumadris’s urging that the king return at once, the king left orders with his general to attack without him. Then he set off for the cloister with five hundred soldiers.
* * *
—
When the king’s army attacked, the Muslims, in the absence of their leaders, had been afraid. But Princess Fatima’s return instilled in them the hope they needed. Renewed and reunited, together they faced their enemies. Princess Fatima battled the most seasoned warriors herself, and her people fought bravely for the duration of the day. The king’s general would have turned and run, but he feared what the king would do if he found out. Princess Fatima’s concern for her son grew: My son would not be away from his friends and soldiers this long unless something had happened to him. As she was thinking about this, one of the Black soldiers brought her an enemy prisoner. She led the prisoner away from the others and spoke to him in Arabic, but he did not understand. Then she tried Rumi, and he answered.
“Is ʿAyn al-Masih leading you?” she asked.
“No, he left a deputy to lead in his place.”
“Why did the king leave?”
“Because a messenger arrived from Shumadris, informing him that his daughter had the amir ʿAbdelwahhab and ten other enemy warriors, including Al-Battal.”
The color drained from Princess Fatima’s face. “How did she manage to take them? How was she able to overcome them?”
“She’s very intelligent and beautiful.” Her beauty, bravery, and fierce independence were known throughout the Greek and Byzantine lands. She could overcome twenty thousand warriors single-handedly in the practice square.
The prisoner informed Princess Fatima that the king had departed in order to kill her son and his company.
“I still don’t understand how Nura defeated them.”
“They are being held at the cloister. That way,” he said, pointing.
While Princess Fatima had been talking with the captive, the morning star had risen. She ran to her horse and swiftly sprang into the saddle. She took one hundred seasoned warriors with her. Tears traced their way down her face, and her heart felt heavy because she feared the loss of her loved ones. She heard the neigh of horses ahead and said to those with her, “Take heart. Those must be the horses of ʿAyn al-Masih. If he has hurt my son, he will pay!” Her companions’ faces grew serious. They advised her, “Wait for them to come this way, so we can see how many they are,” and so she waited.
* * *
—
When ʿAyn al-Masih arrived at the cloister with five hundred soldiers, Nura heard their approach. She came out to greet her father, bringing him into the convent, where they sat together, each on a couch. Trays of food and drink were served, and they partook of the refreshments. Then ʿAyn al-Masih said, “Bring the captives,” and they were brought to him in chains, which had been weighted down with extra iron, under orders from Shumadris. “Shumadris,” he said, “you told me of men who were vicious in battle and the capture of castles, but these men could never accomplish such feats. I could take on the likes of them single-handedly! I shouldn’t have left behind my army for this!”
ʿAbdelwahhab and Al-Battal exchanged looks of relief and hope.
“Fear not, Your Majesty. Your soldiers on the battlefield are brave lions.”
“If I was not so concerned for my army, I would take the time to give you a piece of my mind.”
“Sir, you have the head of the Muslim army here!”
“By John and Mary, Father, my heart tells me that they could hardly lift a sword, let alone use one!”
ʿAbdelwahhab said to Al-Battal, “Tell him to free me temporarily, and I promise I will let him chain me up again.”
“What am I supposed to say you will do?”
“Tell him I will challenge any of his commanders on the spot,
even if it means fighting ten thousand men, and then he can chain me up again.”
Al-Battal relayed this offer to ʿAyn al-Masih in the language of the Rum. “Your Majesty, if you want to test the abilities of your captives, free this amir to fight as many commanders as you like, one after the other.”
Shumadris interjected, “No way!”
Al-Battal continued. “He can lay out two hundred men for your inspection if you wish.” At this, the king realized that these were seasoned warriors. Moreover, his daughter had triumphed over them not with physical strength but through her beauty and charms.
“What are you doing, Your Majesty?” asked Shumadris.
“I have decided to behead them.”
“Now there is the ʿAyn al-Masih I know!”
“Bring them forth,” commanded the king, and three of the prisoners were presented to him.
Abu l-Hazahiz turned to Al-Battal: “If you hadn’t been so busy falling in love, we wouldn’t be getting our heads chopped off!”
Al-Battal gave Nura the look of a pleading lover; she saw it and understood. Her heart skipped a beat. “Don’t kill them,” she said to her father, “until you have overcome their army.”
“I’ve already sent my army against theirs.”
“But no one knows the outcome. If our army wins, then no one will mind if we put off killing them until later. But if our army is losing, then we might be able to buy our own lives with these hostages.”
The king recognized the truth of her words. “Halt!” he called to his guard. Then he sat and had refreshments with Shumadris, who regaled him with tales and assured him of silver and gold from the treasury of the Church. “I want nothing in return but the heads of these Muslim prisoners!”
“You can have them whipped,” said the king, “but you can’t have their heads.”
So once every hour, on the hour, Shumadris had the prisoners whipped across their sides. When the whipping seemed to land more on Abu l-Hazahiz than the others, Abu l-Hazahiz cried out, “Have a heart, Sir. For all you know, we’ve won, and you’ll be begging us for mercy!”