“There is another, even more wondrous tale,” said Scheherezade. “Would you like to hear it?”
The king said yes, so Scheherezade began:
THE TALE OF THE NAVAL SEALS
There once was a man in Baghdad who sold carpets. One day, as he was eating figs under the hot sun, a group of local children began laughing at him, and one shouted insults at him.
At once, the carpet-seller stood up, and, tearing at his beard, began to bellow:
“What in the name of Allah, The Most Merciful, did you just slander me with, you little wench? I’ll have you
know I graduated top of my class in the ?ashshashin, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on
unbelievers, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. Your insolence reminds me of nothing so much as the
Tale of the Bow-Wielding Gorilla!”
And so, the carpet-seller told:
THE TALE OF THE BOW-WIELDING GORILLA
Once, there was a King of Sind who was out hunting lions. He and his retinue chased one into the woods, only to see it shot dead by an unseen hunter.
“By Allah, the most glorious, who dares to kill a lion fit for a king?!” cried the king’s vizier, who had joined him on the hunt.
Then, a beast with great black hairy skin and beady eyes loped out of the trees, carrying a bow and a quiver of arrows.
“I do!” said the beast, “for I am trained in gorilla warfare and I am the greatest hunter in Allah’s creation, lest He Who Is Merciful himself say otherwise.”
“You lie!” said the king, who was proud.
“I do not,” said the gorilla, “but let us test this. Every man who enters my forest, I kill with a single arrow straight at their heart. This has never failed. If I aim false, then may Allah Himself strike me down.”
“I submit myself to He Who Is Above All,” said the king, sheathing his sword and standing regally upon his horse, his chest a clear target.
The gorilla stood upon its hind legs and drew an arrow to its bow, then swiftly let it fly forth.
Suddenly, another lion ran into the forest, and leapt for the king. Yet just as it happened, the arrow pierced the lion’s neck, and it fell dead, next to the first lion.
“There is truly no god but Allah!” said the gorilla, dropping his bow in astonishment.
And that gorilla’s name? Ibrahim al-Fazari.
THE TALE OF THE NAVAL SEALS
“Like that gorilla, you are full of your own hubris! Like Iblis himself!” said the carpet-seller, stamping his foot and howling at the child. “You are nothing to me but just another street-rat. I will send my goods out in trade caravans to Mecca and Medina, with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my words. You think you can freely say such things to a believer in the marketplace?”
The hour was growing late, and Scheherezade stopped the story.
“We will continue tomorrow,” she said.
THE 422ND NIGHT
The next night, Scheherezade continued:
“Think again, fool!” cried the carpet-seller. “As we speak, I am contacting my secret network of business partners across the Sultanate of Rum, and your name is being traced right now. Why, the idiocy that brought about your inevitable fate reminds me of the tale of the Filthy Speaker and the Woman!”
And so, the merchant told:
THE TALE OF THE FILTHY SPEAKER AND THE WOMAN
There was once a man and a woman in love, and the woman was much fond of being humiliated during lovemaking. She begged her paramour to slander her, and he responded:
“By He Who Is Merciful, woman, I am no scoundrel! I cannot insult you this way!”
But she begged him to do it, until eventually he relented. As they began to join together, she looked up and asked him to slander her, but all he could think to say was:
“...do you like that, you fucking retard?”
THE TALE OF THE NAVAL SEALS
“Like the filthy speaker, you had best prepare for the deluge, maggot!” said the merchant, “the deluge that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You will be visited by Death, the One who Destroys all Happiness, child. I can start another story anywhere, anytime, and I can feature marvellous twists of fate in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with the framing story. Not only am I extensively trained in selling carpets, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the Caliph and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the known world, you little knave. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little clever’ comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your accursed tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the dirhams, Allah curse you. I will defecate my fury all over you, and you will drown in it. You are dead, child!”
Just then, Harun al-Rashid, who had been riding by, heard this, and had his retinue stop to listen to the carpet-seller.
“By Allah,” he said, “none in Baghdad has ever been more powerful and impressive!”
Two days later, he summoned the children and the carpet-seller to the palace, and had the carpet-seller shout at the child in the same away again. Harun al-Rashid was delighted, and heaped rewards on the carpet-seller and the child.
And that was THE END of the TALE OF THE NAVAL SEALS.
The king said, “What a marvelous story!”
And Scheherezade said, “Oh my king, there is an even more wondrous tale. Would you like to hear it?”
The king agreed, so Scheherezade began:
THE TALE OF THE RAVEN AND JACKDAW