Tales of the Marvellous and News of the Strange (Hardcover Classics)

by Malcolm C (Tr Lyons

  ‘Ali and Hamza pressed on with their journey until they could look down at Jabir’s camp. There were confused sounds of men to be heard, and ‘Ali dismounted, tightened his belt and took up his sword and his shield. Leaving Hamza stationed there, he rode boldly towards the tent where Miqdad was being held and there he heard Miqdad calling out: ‘My God, I beg You in the name of the pure family of Muhammad to free me from this torture, Omnipotent as you are.’ Before he had finished speaking ‘Ali lifted the curtain of the tent and said: ‘Good news, Miqdad! Almighty God has listened to your cry and granted your request, sending you one to save you from your foes.’ ‘Who are you?’ Miqdad asked him, and he replied: ‘I am the imam ‘Ali son of Abi Talib, God’s crushing rock and His piercing arrow. I am the lion of war who clears away distress.’

  ‘Ali then cut through Miqdad’s bonds and those of his uncle Tarrad, who accepted Islam at his hands. He then took Miqdad by the hand, and they went to the tent of Malik son of Riyah, whom they tied up and left where Miqdad had been. Next morning, when the Kinda clansmen went to congratulate him and wish him a happy morning and continuing success, ‘Ali charged them and drove them off. The camp was filled with shouts as warriors dashed out to seize Mayasa and to kill Miqdad led by Jabir, who was holding sword and shield. ‘Ali attacked him, allowing him no chance to resist, and gave his angry shout that the Arabs knew so well. ‘Damn you, clansmen of Kinda!’ he cried. ‘Are you looking to attack us, relying on your numbers? Do you know, you wretches, who it is you want to attack? I am the great champion, the fighting wolf. I am the husband of Fatima, the maiden and the cousin of the Apostle of God.’

  When the people heard that this was the imam, they rushed to arm themselves, mounted their horses and charged him all together. He shouted at them and drove them back before breaking into the middle of their ranks and starting to deliver blows left and right, reciting:

  I have grown old in battle, where I lead the charge;

  I come of an exalted stock, surpassing all.

  If any seek me out in war, I bruise his face,

  And leave him to shed tears and to lament,

  I am Muhammad’s cousin, Fatima’s husband.

  He then shouted: ‘Damn you, enemies of God, where can you flee when I am in pursuit?’

  When they had been routed ‘Ali went to Miqdad and told him to see to his wife, saying that he was going to hand over to him his enemy, Malik. He recited:

  I am a man who kills his enemies in war,

  Striking against both champions and slaves.

  They do not see my blows but yield to sorrowful regret,

  As owls and vultures haunt their ruined camps.

  I am the son of Hashim, Fatima’s husband,

  And I can boast I am the best of men.

  Miqdad collected the spoils of the dead, with their weapons, horses and camels, to Mayasa’s delight. ‘Ali then approached Malik and Jabir to ask them whether they would recite the words of salvation that saved men from their trespasses, ‘I bear witness that there is no god but God alone, Who has no partner, and that my cousin Muhammad is the Apostle of God.’ They refused ever to do this, and ‘Ali told Miqdad to cut off their heads.

  ‘Ali then left to return to the Prophet, who was delighted when he arrived with the new converts, whose faith was renewed at his hands. Miqdad became one of his companions and paladins and was the champion of the Muslims, sitting with him and fighting with him in the Holy War until his death. He then fought with ‘Ali, the Commander of the Faithful.

  This is the complete story. May God bless our master Muhammad, his family and his companions and give them peace.

  Tale Thirteen

  The Story of Sakhr and Al-Khansa’

  and of Miqdam and Haifa’.

  With Poetry and Prose.

  In the Name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful

  They say – and God knows better – that in past times amongst the early stories of the peoples there is one which tells of a wealthy man named Malik, who had three sons and a daughter. The eldest son was named Khath‘am, the middle one Shaddad, and the youngest Sakhr, while the daughter was al-Khansa’. Her father and her brothers were so jealous of her honour that they gave her a tent of her own, isolated from the clan, and when they went out to hunt they were in the habit of leaving slaves and servants to guard her, such being their concern for her.

  One day they had left to hunt while the slaves and the servants were out with the pasturing beasts, leaving al-Khansa’ alone in her tent. It happened that a man passed by, either having fallen from the sky or risen from the earth. Seeing al-Khansa’ alone and defenceless, he lusted after her, and although she defended herself she had not the power to stop him from raping her. She instantly conceived, but she had taken the cap her attacker was wearing on his head and the stick he had been carrying in his right hand.

  With the passage of time al-Khansa’ ’s pregnancy became apparent, to the disapproval of her father. He summoned his eldest son and asked him whether he was responsible. ‘God forbid, father!’ he exclaimed. ‘You are accusing me of something from which I would recoil in horror.’ Malik put the same question to Shaddad, who gave the same reply and was dismissed when his father was convinced of his innocence. He then summoned Sakhr, his youngest son, and asked him whether he had lain with al-Khansa’. Sakhr realized that she had become pregnant and said: ‘Yes, father. I approached her one night when I was drunk, not knowing what I was doing and thinking that she was one of the slave girls.’ ‘I grant you both your lives,’ his father said, ‘but take her and leave me.’ ‘To hear is to obey both God and you,’ Sakhr replied.

  Sakhr then took his sister al-Khansa’, put her on his mount and went off with her into the desert. There he made her dismount and, drawing his sword and seizing her by the hair, he said: ‘No one has told me about you, so tell me yourself. I know that you must have been raped, so tell me about it and who was the rapist, or else I shall instantly use my sword to repay you.’ ‘Put it away,’ she told him, ‘and give me time to recover. When you went with my father to hunt and there was nobody left in the camp but me, a rider came, from where I have no idea at all, and when he saw me on my own with no one to protect me, lust prompted him to attack me, and, as I couldn’t defend myself, he raped me.’ ‘Would you recognize him if you saw him?’ Sakhr asked, and she said: ‘How could I fail to recognize him when I have a picture of him before my eyes and I took clear evidence from him?’ When Sakhr asked what this evidence was, she told him about the cap she had taken from his head and the stick from his right hand.

  When Sakhr heard this he put al-Khansa’ on a camel, while he himself mounted his horse and rode the whole night long. He then made her dismount before reciting these lines:

  Do you imagine I can taste sweet sleep,

  When no star guides me as I struggle on,

  Thanks to the blow that has struck Malik’s clan,

  Abasing heads that I used to protect?

  I look for revenge upon him who wronged me,

  Using my sword and the point of my spear.

  Even if I must reach up to the skies,

  I shall wreak vengeance on that wretched man.

  He continued to travel around the Arab encampments with his sister, hunting game on which to feed her. This went on for up to three months, and he would take her into one camp after another so she could study the faces of the men there. When her pregnancy had lasted for nine months she told Sakhr that her time had come, and he brought her to a tree in the desert. He then walked away as she grasped its roots and called: ‘Helper of those who seek for help, Protector of the fearful, come to my rescue!’ She gave birth to a child like a full moon whom Sakhr named Taghlib, as its father had overpowered al-Khansa’. He wrapped him in cloths and went off while she washed herself clean before he put her back in her howdah and set out across the desert wastes with their ruins and camps. Al-Khansa’ kept examining the faces of all whom they met but without finding her rapist.


  Sakhr had sworn not to omit a single tribe in his journey until he had taken his vengeance and cleared away his shame. The first that he entered with al-Khansa’ were the clans of the Banu Wabra, Zurara, Hamdan, Sulaim, Tanukh, ‘Amila, Tayy, Dhubyan, Qahtan, ‘Adiy, Himyar, Khafaja, Sinbis, Fazara, ‘Abs, Ghailan, Jubair, Ghassan, Kinana, Kulaib, Qais, ‘Uqail, Lakhm, Dhadham, Sa‘d, Damra and Murra. He left no single Arab tribe unvisited but in spite of staying for one, two or three months with each he failed to find his enemy, and this weighed heavily on him. He recited:

  Who will tell Malik that I long for him,

  And that I seek for vengeance and to meet my foe

  And strike him down, whatever obstacles there are,

  With my keen Indian sword that kills brave men?

  This went on for seven years, by which time the young Taghlib was well grown, handsome, tall and well proportioned. Sakhr bought him a horse and taught him to ride it, while he and al-Khansa’ continued to visit tribes until he reached that of Rabi‘a. When he got there he made al-Khansa’ dismount at the side of the camp, where he pitched a tent for her. While they were doing this a group passed, amongst whom was an extremely handsome young man, tall as a cliff, like the idol Hubal. He was wearing an ‘Adani robe and a Yemeni burda, while on his head was a precious turban. His face was shining like the moon on the night it becomes full. When al-Khansa’ saw him she told Sakhr: ‘By God, brother, this is my enemy. There can be no doubt about it.’ ‘Take care that you are not just struck by his appearance so that you make me responsible for his blood.’ She said: ‘Have I not spent seven years going round the tribes with you and scrutinizing men’s faces?’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed, and she went on: ‘And have I accused anyone?’ ‘No,’ he said, and she repeated: ‘There is absolutely no doubt whatsoever that this is my enemy, and if you have it in you to take your revenge and clear away your shame, this is the man who attacked me.’

  Sakhr made his camel kneel and took out his tent, which he pitched and into which he sent his sister. He thought about how he could kill the man and he recited:

  My case is strange. My hot breath robs me of sweet sleep

  Thanks to the great misfortune that struck me,

  Crushing my strength and lowering my head.

  Unless I kindle blazing war, I shall take no more pleasure in my wine,

  Or ever ride a horse or trim a bow.

  The shame that I have suffered brings despair.

  Tell Malik from me that I am a champion;

  I shall not live unless I kindle war

  And let death gorge its fill on the base man.

  For death comes both to the care-worn

  And to those who enjoy their glass of wine.

  He walked around until he came across a black slave, whom he asked to identify a man fitting the description that al-Khansa’ had given of her attacker. The slave told him that this was a formidable fighter of high status and great reputation, the excellent emir al-Miqdam, whom all the clan of Rabi‘a, with its four thousand horse and foot, obeyed and who was a champion feared by all the tribes.

  Sakhr left the slave and went off thoughtfully. As he was walking amongst the tents he noticed one that was isolated from the others, with a few people patrolling the space between. He found a woman to ask whose was the tent pitched on its own away from the tribe. ‘Man with the handsome face,’ she replied, ‘that is the tent of al-Haifa’, the sister of the emir al-Miqdam, the most beautiful of mortals with a lovely figure, sweet speech, a pearly smile, laughter loving, devastatingly attractive and without a flaw. She was created to fascinate men and to be looked at with wonder by both high and low, as in the poet’s lines:

  She is most beautiful to look at, with her smile,

  Her splendour and her perfect loveliness.

  She tempts men through the beauty of her form,

  Her cheeks, and the new moon within her glance.

  She is a marvel, unmatched in her coquetry.

  If she looked at an anchorite, it would divert his prayer.

  She has no match in beauty, even beauty’s self.

  She can only be a fit mate for you with your handsome face and the splendour of your appearance.’

  Sakhr asked her why the tent was set apart from the others, and the woman told him that her brother was so jealous for her honour that he wanted no news of her to spread. ‘You see that the sand round it has been levelled by the camels,’ she went on, ‘and she is guarded by sixty fine riders, all of whom would lose their heads if so much as an ant approached her tent.’ Sakhr dismissed her courteously and went back to the tent of al-Khansa’ reciting:

  I must make fires blaze to burn my foes,

  Leaving brave men as food for beasts and birds.

  I shall take the revenge for which I wish,

  And give the beasts their fill of flesh and blood.

  For I shall shatter skulls and empty veins

  As I charge through the noble horses’ ranks.

  Miqdam was unaware I am the lion,

  The skull-splitter who does not flinch in war.

  He brought me shame and he must feel regret.

  I taste no sleep and show no smiling face

  Because of the great deed that I hope to achieve.

  He who opposes me will know that I bring death

  To the mailed horsemen whom I face in fight.

  I do not rush my quest but bring repentance to my foe.

  I trail my cloak and I defend myself,

  But turn my eyes from women modestly.

  My sword is sharp, and my mail coat shines bright,

  While the fame of my valour never wanes.

  Al-Khansa’ said: ‘May you achieve your wish and avoid death! I find you reciting poetry in which you talk of your strength as though you had already taken your revenge and cleared away our shame.’ Then she recited:

  Sakhr, recite no poetry while you are still disgraced,

  Until you take the vengeance that you seek.

  Carry no sword nor strike, and do not boast,

  Until you clear away your shame by striking down your foe,

  And win your life or die and be excused.

  You should not laugh or smile until this shame has gone,

  So that the horsemen of the clans may know

  That what I say of you is proved by fate,

  And what you do will be unparalleled,

  As you are feared for striking off men’s heads.

  He replied to her in these lines:

  The horsemen of the clans will know

  That what I say is what I mean to say,

  And not its opposite. I am a lion in the fight.

  If I should meet my fate, all will be lost,

  But otherwise there will be life that brings new birth.

  I hope to go on till I reach my goal,

  But if not, let no woman weep for me.

  For a whole month Sakhr did not reveal to anyone what was in his mind. Then one night of rain and storm wind when the riders were on watch by the tent of Haifa’ he took his sword and went out in darkness so intense that no one could see where he was putting his feet, until he reached the tent and discovered that there were no men there. He raised the flap and saw the girl sleeping on a bed of juniper wood set with red gold and studded with pearls and other gems. Over it was a covering of green silk, and below was a censer of Indian aloes wood and a lamp of red gold set with gems with burning ban wood. The girl was lying on her back with drops of sweat showing on her forehead like moist pearls. She was alerted by Sakhr’s arrival and jumped up in fear, saying: ‘Who are you, you vilest of the Arabs?’ Sakhr drew his sword and said: ‘I swear by the Ka‘ba, the place of the Black Stone and the place of Abraham that if you utter a word I shall make you into a lesson to be talked of amongst all peoples breaking your joints and your bones.’ The girl saw that he was handsome as well as eloquent; she weakened and looked down bashfully as he got into bed with her. He covered her and went on to rape her. She asked him in God’s n
ame to tell her who he was. ‘You will soon hear,’ he said, and then he recited:

  Did Miqdam know when he brought Malik shame

  With what a champion he had to deal?

  Did he suppose that he could get his wish,

  While Sakhr would be left in bitterness?

  I swore that I would not be left to die in grief

  Until my promised vengeance was fulfilled,

  And so I shall take vengeance on his clan

  And let my anger loose to pay him back.

  For I am one who, when the war fires burn,

  Visits destruction on his enemies.

  He remained asleep until morning, but when he was close to being exposed Haifa’ said: ‘Get up, young man. Morning has come, and I’m afraid that you will be killed.’ He addressed her by name and recited the following lines:

  Haifa’, the time has come for us to part,

  But the fire in my heart cannot be quenched.

  How can I bear tomorrow when it comes?

  How am I to forget you, having reached my goal?

  This death is fated for us; we cannot escape.

  Some day I may fulfil my hopes,

  For what I did last night cannot be hid.

  He then clasped Haifa’ to his breast, and she clasped him to hers, until they were overcome by sleep, only waking after dawn. Miqdad came to check on his sister and when he looked at her tent he saw footprints going to it but none coming back. He followed them to the tent and when he lifted the flap he saw a young man and Haifa’ embracing, both fast asleep. This had a profound effect on him, striking him as a monstrous crime, and he lifted his turban on the point of his spear, a call to war amongst the Arabs at that time when they had met some disaster.

  His clansmen came rushing up from all sides to ask what was wrong, and he said: ‘Arabs, let everyone who knows what is due to my high position and rank fetch a bundle of firewood.’ They hurried up from all directions, bringing enough wood to fill the space around the tent, and Miqdam ordered the slaves to dig a trench and start a fire there, which they did. As the flames blazed up and smoke rose to the sky al-Khansa’ heard the commotion and was unpleasantly alarmed by it and by what she could see of the fire. She asked one of her maids whether she knew what was going on, and the girl told her that Miqdam had found a young champion with his sister. He had ordered firewood to be collected and a ditch to be dug by the slaves. They had lit a fire there, as he wanted to burn the lovers. ‘I take refuge with God from the evil of this day,’ exclaimed al-Khansa’, ‘for by God, the Lord of the Ka‘ba, this must be my brother Sakhr.’