|
Post by Zaim al-Daleel on Aug 2, 2008 22:04:00 GMT -7
Interlude
Jamilia found her uncle asleep in the shade of a towering palm. "Wake up, Uncle," she said excitedly. "See what I bought! Is it not exquisite?"
Husar rose and wiped the sleep from his eyes. Before him, his niece proudly displayed a violet tapestry embroidered with an intricate pattern of stars and sunflowers.
"It is for Mother's birthday," she said. "I spent the money I earned grooming camels for Ahmad the herdsman. It cost only two silver pieces."
Husar ran his hand along the edge of the tapestry, a few of the fibers working loose in his hand. It was worth no more than two silver pieces, if that. But the thought would mean more to Jamilia's mother than the craftsmanship. "It is a fine piece, " he said, "You struck a good bargain."
Jamilia rolled her treasure into a bundle, then sat beside her uncle in the cool shade.
"The merchant said the tapestry would not be out of place hanging beside Ala'i the Hungry," said Jamilia. "What a strange idea a tapestry hanging next to a person."
Husar,laughed. "No, my child. Ala'i is not a person. It is the name of a carpet. A most famous and most magical carpet. Listen!
"Ages ago, there a lived a sha'ir named Ala'i ibn Dissafah, a man with eyes as brown as almonds and a thick mane of ebony hair. A man blessed by the gods, Ala'i had distinguished himself in not one but three fields of endeavor. First, he excelled as a seer, a prophet so skilled that he could predict the number of drops that would fall in a rainstorm. Second, he was a weaver of consummate artistry, producing caftans so splendid that maidens swooned at the sight. And third, he was a brilliant scholar, proficient in poetry, philosophy, and literature.
"But though Ala'i was an exceptional man, he was a man nonetheless. And like all men, his days on this world were limited. Ala'i mourned his old age, not because he feared death, but because of all he wanted to do. "I regret having not spent more time in study", he lamented to a genie. "Would that I had spent less time spinning cloth and telling' fortunes, and more in the company of great poets and writers.'
"'I cannot give you back your youth,' said the genie. "But I can offer you a second life of sorts, one drawn from your three great skills. If, that is, you are willing to abandon this life for one quite different.'
"Without hesitation, Ala'i agreed.
|
|
|
Post by Zaim al-Daleel on Aug 2, 2008 22:04:50 GMT -7
"With a wave of his hand, the genie caused a loom of light to rise from the sand. "Spin,' he instructed Ala'i. "Use your hair for the yarn.'
Ala'i grasped a lock of his hair and pulled. To his amazement, the hair stretched to many times its normal length. Guided by the genie, Ala'i began to spin, using his hair to produce a multicolored cloth. But, the more hair Ala'i pulled, the smaller his body became, until at last there was nothing left but his head.
The genie finished the job, pulling more of Ala'i's hair until the head, too, had disappeared, and there was nothing left of Ala'i but a pile of cloth.
"From this cloth, the genie fashioned a carpet emblazoned with all manner of symbols and decorations. Centered in the carpet was an image of Ala"i's head. Said the genie: "Let it be known that the reborn Ala'i hungers for the written words of great thinkers. In return for these words, he will share his gift of prophecy. So shall it be for a thousand and one years.' With that, the genie disappeared."
Jamilia was wide-eyed. "Does Ala'i still exist?"
"Oh yes," replied her uncle. "Ala'i the Hungry is now owned by Fahad al-Zakir. It is said that Fahad has used Ala'I to help him accumulate his great wealth."
"Has Fahad used Ala'i selfishly?"
"In a sense, he has. But Fahad is a good man. His businesses provide many jobs, and his investments have enriched our community.
"Is Ala'i bad? The carpet, I mean."
Husar stroked his niece's long black hair. "No, my child. The carpet is neither good nor bad. It merely is. "
The party having agreed to untake the journey, Fahad produces a pair of finger cymbals and strikes them twice. A moment later, a servant appears. Fahad whispers to him. The servant bows and leaves.
"You will now meet Ala'i the Hungry," Fahad says to the party. "He will be accompanying you also."
The servant returns with a silken carpet, which he unrolls on the floor. "My friends," says Fahad, gesturing toward the carpet, "this is Ala'i."
"Ala'i can predict the future and offer sage advice to those wise enough to decipher his messages."
"For Ala'i to answer a question, he must be fed. Owing to Ala'I ibn Dissafah's love of the written word, the carpet eats only loose pages from books of great literature, poetry, and philosophy- written in the author's own hand. If Ala'i accepts the offered page, then he will answer the question. If Ala'i rejects the page, he remains silent."
|
|
|
Post by Zaim al-Daleel on Aug 2, 2008 22:05:54 GMT -7
The old man again sounds his finger cymbals. A servant brings a silver box the size of a large book. Fahad opens the box and removes three pieces of yellowed parchment, He gives two pieces to the party, keeping one for himself.
[1st page] The stars on high fell to earth And became desert flowers To remind us of the garden in which we dwell The gods exhaled and the winds made us tremble But we stood straight We embraced the darkness We gathered the desert flowers We joined with the river Our faith as strong as the currents And we filled our cups at dawn
[2nd page] My heart's decree gave little comfort I was not prepared for memory's departure That faded like a shadow I shed tears of fire Kindled by the sun and moon A yearning for brightness An acceptance of sorrow Is this my lot? The nature of things remains unclear In the distance I hear The laughter of jackals
"These pages are food for Ala'i," he says. "Do you wonder why I send you for Sita with such urgency? Ala'i will answer."
Rolling the carpet out on the tent floor, Fahad rests his hands, palms down, on either side of Ala'i's image.
"Great Ala'i, tell what Fate has in store for me within the next six months."
After a moments pause, he places the page on Ala'i's face. The page fades and sinks into the carpet as Ala'i accepts the page. Then, the star-bordered pastoral scene in the lower right-hand corner of the carpet fades away. The following images appear inside the border, one fading into the next:
- An old man wearing an emerald green aba sits beneath a tree. - The area within the starred border turns black. - A black horse with white legs rears inside the black area, then vanishes. - The original image pastoral scene reappears.
|
|
|
Post by Zaim al-Daleel on Aug 2, 2008 22:06:41 GMT -7
"The black horse with the white legs is shukali, a symbol of death," says Fahad. "I will be dead in six months. Ala'i is never wrong."
Ali moves forward and examines the carpet closely. "Truly this is a wondrous item you have," He says to Fahad. And we shall value his wisdom, though we shall always be mindful of its cost."
Fahd had never been much of a reader, so his interest in the pages was minimal. When Fahad interpreted the meaning of Ala'i the Hungry's message, Fahd was glad he had never written a diary.
He stood silently off to the side, shifting uncomfortably foot to foot. He longed for the soon to be revisited solitude of the desert.
Its early morning and preparations are complete. The courtyard is a flurry of activity as the last cinches are tightened, the loads double-checked, and hasty introductions are exchanged.
Assisting in the preparations is Amir al-Ahmar; an al-Badian (nomad) who has joined at the request of Fahad al-Zakir. He is tall and has the bearing of an al-Badian tribal leader. He's wrapped in the aba and caftan of a desert rider. His keffiyeh (headcloth) is pulled across his face, covering all but his eyes in the style common among al-Badian horsemen. All his clothes are hues of scarlet, crimson, and rust.
Having taken up Fahad's offer of credit, Ali and Ya'Qub are bringing six camels laden with trade goods and three spare camels for the journey. They've hired three experienced laborers to assist in driving the camels. For each member of the party who desired it, Fahad had given two camels and gear for the journey.
Before leaving his tent two days earlier, Fahad said: "Ala'i has advised that you take along as many of Sita's personal items as possible. I have two rather unremarkable mementos from her youth." He gave the group the following: A set of three iron bells on a cord. The largest the size of a plum, the smallest the size of a marble. When shaken, the bells sound a chord. "Secured to the tail of a camel, the bells can help locate the animal in a sandstorm," he'd said. He then presented a white linen cloth, somewhat yellowed with age. It is the size of a handkerchief with an eagle embroidered in one corner. He also provided a map, marked with several notes.
Raziz: "Mamoon al-Phahsh lives in this village. He owes me many favors. Tell him you work for me, and he will give you extra pages to feed Ala'i."
House Fajirik Military camp: "Khafaz sells supplies on my behalf to the commander of this camp. You will deliver the six war camels to Captain Ramad bin Yusif al-Kahn. He can be trusted. He has many contacts throughout the High Desert. He may be able to provide you with valuable information."
Quabah & Hulm: "Both of these tiny villages may be able to supply water, food, and possibly information." Vahtov: "This is where you should find Sita. Alas, I have no contacts there."
For the first half of the day you follow the al-Adib river west, then turn northwest traveling through grass fields and palm trees to the edge of the high desert. You stop for the night on a hill where the desert sands wage an ageless war with the scrub brush and grasses for dominion. The sun sets over the distant Range of the Marching Camels to the west. A light breeze blows sand across the tops of rocky hogbacks that rise from the desert floor before you.
|
|