The Story of King Sharyar
The Tale of King Sharyar and His Brother King Zaman
King Sharyar inherited the vast empire of Banu Sasan that was ruled by his father, and he had proved to be a worthy knight and warrior and so his father made him his successor. His younger brother, Zaman was but a youth when the old king died, and was twenty years the junior of his elder brother. But Sharyar saw to it that the younger prince was also made king in his own right by giving him the kingdom of Samarcand in the barbarian lands to rule. King Sharyar ruled his capital city and his empire with such wisdom and justice that the people loved him, and King Zaman was also beloved by his people in Samarcand for the same reason. They both ruled for a long time and both had excellent reputations.
After twenty years had passed since Sharyar sent his brother to rule Samarcand, he realized that his brother was probably no longer a strapping boy, but had probably grown into a man, and he longed to see him. He knew from couriers and travelers that Zaman had an excellent reputation, but daily he felt stronger about wanting to see his little brother.
“I must see my little brother,” he told his chief advisor, his Wazir. “I’m not getting any younger, and I am sure he has grown into a fine man. It would be criminal of me to die of old age before I see him again. Prepare a caravan.”
“My liege, if I might be so bold as to suggest that instead of visiting him, you send a letter and a gift and entreat him to visit you here in your grand capital city,” his Wazir suggested.
The king thought about it for a minute, and replied, “You know, you have something there. This is where he grew up, and I am sure he would love to see the improvements I have made these last twenty years. Prepare a caravan, and you will go in my stead.”
“Sire, you know I have two young daughters to look after, perhaps another minister instead...”
“No, I want you,” the king said. I need someone that I can trust. You are a man I have complete faith in, and I know you will accomplish the mission with eloquence and diplomacy. Pack a bag.”
King Sharyar prepared such gifts as would be worthy of a king, such as magnificent horses with jewel encrusted saddles with inlaid gold work, and the best of servants, and all manner of silks and finery. And he wrote his brother a letter beseeching him to return to the capital and visit with his dear old brother, and included what he had told his Wazir about not getting any younger. With the letter written and sealed with wax whereupon he placed his royal seal using his signet ring, he gave it to his Wazir and told him to make haste and be off to fetch the royal brother home.
“Yes, my liege,” responded the Wazir, “I depart without delay.” But even hurrying as fast as he could with all servants scrambling at his command, the preparations took three days before he was finally ready with his caravan to travel to the distant kingdom of Samarcand. On the fourth day the caravan set out to cross the deserts and mountains, and the high plains that lay between the two kingdoms. But the going was slow because at every city they came to they were obligated to spend three days to enjoy the hospitality of the ruler of that land, a custom known as the guest rite. They were showered with gifts of gold and silver and jewels, and given the best food and the best drink that the city could afford, and on the fourth day they were given a military escort for a full day out of the city. And so the journey took some time.
When they were within two days of Samarcand the Wazir sent a fast rider ahead to announce their coming, and so it was that King Zaman sent an escort of his lords and courtiers out a full day’s ride from his city to greet the royal party and accompany them into the city, which they did with full courtesy.
When they entered the city, the Wazir headed straightaway to the palace and presented himself to King Zaman, kissing the ground and prayed for the King’s health and happiness and for victory over all his enemies. Then he invited the king to ride back with his caravan by special invitation of his brother, King Sharyar, for a visit, and he delivered the letter which King Zaman opened and read. He understood the letter to imply that perhaps King Sharyar may be sick, and that time on earth may be short, although the letter said nothing of the sort. But he agreed to return with the caravan to the capital of Banu Sasan to see his brother again at his request. “I hear and obey the request of my brother,” he told the Wazir, “But it cannot be until after the guest rite of three days has been fulfilled.”
King Zaman then had the Wazir put up in an apartment in the palace suitable to his exalted position, and he sent his men out to pitch tents for Sharyar’s troops, and he provided meat and bread and drink for the whole caravan. And he got presents ready to bring with them that were fit for such a noble as his brother the king. He put his viceroy in charge of his kingdom in his own absence, and he had his donkeys, horses, oxen and wagons, tents and all the things needed for the journey within sight of the city and he decided to bed down there for the night so they could start their travels early on the following morning.
Before he fell asleep, King Zaman rubbed his hands together and noticed something was missing. “Where is it?” he asked himself. “My royal signet ring is missing. Where did I leave it? I remember coming to the bedchamber, and washing my face before evening prayer. I must have left it by the wash basin! A king should never be without his royal signet ring!”
Without awakening any of his men, he snuck out of camp and returned to the palace to look for it. When he got to his own apartments he slipped in through the doorway and found his wife, the queen of his kingdom, in the arms of another man. Not one of his nobles, no indeed, it was no less than the royal cook, still covered in soot stains and cooking grease! A mere servant was kissing his wife passionately, and she was returning those kisses. In a fit of rage he drew his sword and ran them both through with one angry thrust. Horrified at what he had done, grabbed his ring and snuck back out to the encampment unseen and slunk into his own tent for the night. But he couldn’t sleep. He kept thinking about how his wife had betrayed him, and wondered if she had been kissing other men all the time he was there, or if it were every time he went away for any reason. He wasn’t even out of sight of the city and she was kissing other men!
The journey back to the capital was as long as it had been going out, and in that time King Zaman did not sleep, and he was barely able to keep any food down, and he drank very little, for his appetite was going. By the time they were within sight of the city, he looked pretty thin, and yellow, and his eyes were sunken with starvation and lack of sleep. He brother Sharyar, who had not seen him for twenty years, knew at a glance that there was something wrong, but he could not guess what the matter could possibly be. He offered his brother to see his royal physicians, but his brother declined saying, “I am merely tired from the rigors of the journey, and affected by the change in climate. Please do not worry for my sake, brother.”
He appointed the royal guest room overlooking the pleasure garden as Zaman’s quarters while he stayed at the palace, and very pleasant was it to look upon. There was a lawn and vibrant colored flowers, flowering shrubs, and a few shade trees of exceeding beauty and a babbling fountain where he could gaze out and meditate. A few days after Zaman had arrived, Sharyar paid him a visit and said, “I have organized a hunting trip for us. You and me, and a few dozen men to bear our gear, and we shall have a relaxing time of it. What do you say?”
“Please go without me,” Zaman replied solemnly. “I am not up to it, but I look forward to hearing accounts of your adventures when you return.”
With great heaviness of heart, King Sharyar bid him stay in peace and proceeded on his hunting expedition. It was mid morning and King Zaman was laying on his bed when he heard a noise outside his window, and wearily he got up and crossed over to see what the noise was. It had sounded like women whispering, and when he looked down into the pleasure garden he saw that what he heard was indeed, none other than the queen and ten members of the harem. He watched them idly for a few moments, when he was startled to see one of them open a secret panel behind a large bush, and through the panel emerged eleven men. They quickly paired off and started kissing each other with wild abandon, the queen with the biggest ugliest brute of them all. King Zaman thought to himself, “It was not me. My queen only followed her nature. I did not let her down and cause her to betray me, but she was prone to it because she was a female. She couldn’t help herself! If the same thing can happen to my brother, who is much more important than I am, and he has a bigger house, a larger kingdom, and a greater harem than I do, then the fault is in women.”
So thinking, he found himself to be ravenous with hunger, so he ate a hearty breakfast, took a long nap, had a sumptuous supper, and so regained his strength. When King Sharyar returned from his expedition he was surprised to see his younger brother so changed to the better, and asked him what had happened.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” King Zaman said dismissively.
“Try me brother,” King Sharyar responded.
“The reason I was wasted away in the first place was my queen betrayed me with another man. I found them kissing when I came back to my palace to retrieve a my signet ring.”
“Yes, I can understand why you were upset,” King Sharyar said. “What did you do?”
“I killed her and her lover,” King Zaman replied, looking for a reaction in his brother’s eyes.
“I’m not so sure I would have done the same if I were in your shoes, but I would have been upset. Angry. I probably would have denounced her as a traitor and had her executed, which is the legal way of dealing with traitors. I am really not sure how I would have handled it. But pray tell me, why did you worry about it so?”
“I thought perhaps it was me she was unhappy with, and that is why she betrayed me so. And I was miserable at that thought.”
“Understandable. So what brings about this miraculous recovery?”
“I am afraid to tell you, my brother, for I fear for your reaction.”
“You must tell me, no matter how I react.”
King Zaman thought about this for a minute, and he saw the depth of his desire to know. “I have discovered that all women are made so,” King Zaman said at last. Then he added, “They are fickle by nature and cannot help themselves.”
King Sharyar smiled and shook his head. “That is where you are wrong, brother. I know for a fact that my queen and even the girls in my harem are one hundred percent loyal to me, so if it were in a woman’s nature to be deceitful, then I have exceptional women.”
King Zaman said nothing.
“Surely you don’t think that my queen would do anything of the sort, do you?”
King Zaman wouldn’t even look his brother in the eye.
King Sharyar was becoming upset. “You are my brother, but I swear I will strike you down if you continue with these accusations!”
“I have not said a word, my brother,” King Zaman finally replied. “It is not my place to speak of such matters. However, if you would like proof, I would suggest that you organize another expedition, and set your camp outside of the city. Then come back secretly, to this room that overlooks the pleasure garden, and all of your questions will be answered.”
King Sharyar quickly organized another hunting expedition and bade farewell to his queen, explaining that they would be leaving so early in the morning it would be better for him to spend the night in a tent in the encampment outside the city. Then, both kings dressed as commoners, pulling their burnooses over their faces so as not to be recognized, and entered through another gate to the city than the one they had used when they left, and stealthily made their way back into the palace. Once in the guest quarters of King Zaman, they both had a clear view of the pleasure garden which was lit dimly by candles. But by the candlelight they watched as the queen and the harem entered and again let the men into the garden through the secret panel behind the bush. They watched as the men and women paired off into couples and commenced courting. King Sharyar was visibly upset, but he controlled himself and taking his brother by his arm they again made their way out of the palace, indeed, they made their way out of the city by a different gate than the other two they had already used.
“Where are we going?” Zaman said at last when they were out of earshot of every other living soul.
“All of a sudden I don’t feel worthy of being a king,” Sharyar whispered to him. “I don’t believe I understand the nature of people, women in particular, to continue to rule.”
“What are you suggesting, brother?”
“I suggest we wander the world for awhile. Our viceroys, high priests and wazirs can care for our kingdoms and give them up if and when we come back. Should we die, our eldest sons will inherit the job. What say you? Are you with me?”
“Lead where you will, brother Sharyar, I will follow.”
They took two camels and started roaming the land, and they ranged far and wide, hither, thither and yon for two weeks until at last they were crossing a great desert. In their toils to cross a vast field of sand dunes they rejoiced upon seeing an oasis by the sea, and where there is an oasis, there is fresh water. To this oasis they made and they drank their fill of the clear fresh water, and ate their fill of sun ripened dates. They soon got drowsy and were enjoying a restful afternoon nap when they heard a great noise coming from the sea, and they looked out and saw a mighty figure, man-like but of enormous proportions, carrying on his head a tiny box. They quickly scurried up into the tree tops to get a better look, and lo, it was a mighty genie. He came to shore and approached their oasis, stopping under the very trees the two kings were hiding in. He set the box down on the ground and from it drew another, slightly smaller box. While it looked tiny by the genie who towered above them like a colossus, it was actually about the size of a coffin. Around its edges were seven padlocks, and from a ring on his belt the genie drew seven keys, and carefully unlocked each one and opened the lid. A beautiful woman climbed out, radiant and fair beyond compare. Sunlight was a shadow to her, and the moon itself paled in comparison. The mighty genie shrunk to the size of a man and embraced her in his arms and covered her with his kisses, which she gladly accepted.
It was not terribly long before the genie, still an imposing figure while the size of a man, had eaten, drank, and kissed so thoroughly that he fell asleep just as the brothers had done, and the fair woman smiled up into the trees and fixed the two kings with her eyes, then batted her eyelids and motioned for them to quietly come down. They did as she commanded, ever so softly coming out the trees that they did not make a noise. She put her delicate index finger to her beautiful lips and stealthily led them away from that part of the oasis.
“You appear to be to men of means in disguise,” she smiled when they were safely away from the genie.
“And you appear to be a beautiful damsel in some distress,” King Sharyar said.
“Yes, I am beautiful,” she admitted freely, “But I am not really in any distress. He treats me well when he lets me out,” she smiled. “Now give me a kiss.”
“But your husband?” Zaman asked.
“I will awaken him if you do not do as I bid, and he will serve you a most painful death. If you do not do as I say, oh yes, you will suffer for your disobedience.”
“Does he keep you in that box under the sea to enslave you?” King Zaman asked.
“He is afraid that other men or genies will steal me away from him,” she said. “But I can still have anyone I want to, despite his best efforts. But time is wasting away and he will awaken soon, so give me a kiss,” she said, putting her arms around King Sharyar’s neck and craning her lovely face upward.
He was helplessly entranced by her and did as she bade. When she had given him one of the deepest and most memorable kisses he had ever experienced in his entire life, she withdrew and turned her attention to King Zaman and smiled. “Your turn,” she said with a slight girlish giggle. And Zaman was like his brother, thoroughly helpless to fight against her feminine wiles. When she had made him weak in the knees and utterly under her control, she said, “Give me your ring.”
He was loathe to remove his lips from hers, but he had to ask, “Why do you want my ring?”
She smiled at him with her radiant white teeth, dimples appearing on her cheeks. “For my collection, silly,” and she pulled a necklace from beneath her robe filled with signet rings. “I have collected five hundred and seventy of these rings, and now your two, and I will continue collecting them. One cannot control a woman and her desires.”
They both obediently gave her the rings, and she smiled at them while wiggling her eyebrows and said, “You boys had better be on your way. My husband is a very jealous genie.”
King Zaman was very reluctant, but King Sharyar pulled him away from her and led him out of the oasis and over a sand dune, out of sight of the temptress and her genie husband. And as they mounted their camels and began the long ride back to the kingdom from whence they came, they discussed the matter. “This genie, this mighty magical being has troubles far greater than ours, so we should console ourselves,” said King Zaman.
“But it just goes to show that women cannot be trusted. Not with matters of the heart, because they are essentially wicked. I believe from now on I shall never trust another.”
“Amen to that,” Zaman agreed. “I will from now on live as a monk and avoid women altogether.”
“I didn’t say that,” Sharyar replied. “I just said I won’t trust them.”
After a few days they returned to the capital city of King Sharyar’s kingdom, for even though they had wandered longer, they were not actually all that far from home, and he embraced his brother fondly and sent his caravan back to the kingdom of Samarcand, laden down with all manner of precious cargo, gifts befitting a king from one brother to the other. And then Sharyar began to exert his will upon his kingdom. The first thing he did was to have his traitorous queen executed, and her lover, and all of his harem, and all of the men who enjoyed the harem. And he told his Wazir and all his court that he would marry for one night only, and in the morning he would have the girl beheaded, in this way he would no longer be made a fool.
The first girl he took to bride was a beautiful daughter of one of his highest ministers, but as he promised, the girl was executed in the morning. It was not long before the people started praying and complaining about their king, and families with daughters started to move away, and women came to be in short supply throughout the kingdom. His Wazir was all in a dither about the king’s sudden cruelty. Where he had once been wise and just, now he was simply insane.
“I simply cannot understand the sudden change in our king,” he grumbled at home, and his daughter Shahrazad agreed that something terrible must have happened to him, though she could not hazard a guess as to what it could be.
“But perhaps I can dissuade him from this foolishness,” she told her father.
“I have sought and received special favor for you and your sister. The king will not ask for you.”
“But father, I might be able to break this murderous cycle,” Shahrazad insisted.
“No, I will not lose my daughters! End of story.”
“The story cannot end until the end is told,” Shahrazad said. “Father, you and mother were always great storytellers, and you know how some stories just went on and on. And we would always ask for more. I think the king might be interested in those stories.”
“The king is a nut job, my daughter. A total whackadoo! I forbid it.”
Shahrazad raised one of her pretty eyebrows. “Forbid me, father?”
“Yes, I forbid it.”
“But Daddy,” she put her lower lip out in a pout.
“Stop it! I insist.”
She put her lower lip out further, and put her head on his chest. She could feel him weakening. She had learned how to bend him to her will from the time she was a toddler, and she was very adept at it. But he seemed to be very determined this time.
“Have I ever told you about the Ox and the Donkey?” he asked.
She blinked a couple of times trying to recall the story. “The Ox and the Donkey?” she repeated, trying to recall.
“Yes, and what the rooster told the dog?” He smiled as he watched the gears turning in her head. It had been quite a while since he had been able to introduce her to a new tale.
“I-I’m sure you have,” she stammered. “But maybe you should tell me again, so I can recall all of the details.”
“As you wish,” he said, grinning broadly.
