by Sulayman Thani al-Dhiyabat al-Huwayti<\/p>\n\n\n\n
translated and adapted by William Tamplin<\/p>\n\n\n\n
You wanted to hear my story, so I\u2019ll tell you. My name\u2019s Thani al-Dhiyabat, from the Dhiyabat section of the Huwaytat tribe. In 1930, when I was around twenty-one, I went raiding for camels in al-Jawf, in northern Saudi Arabia, with some of my fellow tribesmen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
During the journey, my camel got tired. She had been injured a year prior. We came to a large black sandstone hill on the eastern side of the Nafud Desert called Thirst Mountain, and my camel began to sit down every so often. We\u2019d be walking along, and she\u2019d just plop down. So my camel and I were straggling and starting to get cut off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One of my Dhiyabat kinsmen taunted me, saying, \u201cBack home in front of the ladies, you passed yourself off as a big bad raider. And now you want to leave your camel behind at Thirst Mountain?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf I leave her behind,\u201d I replied, \u201cI wouldn\u2019t be the first man to do so. And if I take her home, I wouldn\u2019t be the first man to do that either. My father Salem died when I was just six months old, so it\u2019s not like I was to the manor born. I\u2019m<\/em> the one who brought this camel along; she didn\u2019t bring me<\/em>. At the end of the day, whether I leave her behind or take her home, she\u2019s just a camel. But I swear that from here on out, I can\u2019t keep up with you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The leader of the raiding party was a man named Daghish Abu Tayeh, whose nom de guerre<\/em> was Akhu Sanda<\/em>: Sanda\u2019s Brother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We set up camp. That night, we met to deliberate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDaghish,\u201d said a man named Zaal ibn Mutlag, \u201cdon\u2019t get us Huwaytat tribesmen killed by exposing us to Ibn Saud, to the Ikhwan, while half our tribesmen\u2019s camels are straggling far behind us in the desert. Instead, let\u2019s set our course to the right, southward, where we\u2019ll find the Hazem and Harb tribes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n By the way, Hazem and Harb are the tribes whose camels are black. They\u2019re good-quality mounts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cTomorrow I\u2019ll be leading us through that pass over there,\u201d said Daghish. \u201cWhoever wants to follow me can follow me, and whoever doesn\u2019t can go to hell.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n A section of Huwaytat men split off and went with Daghish.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then it was just me and two others: a man named Juma from the Abu Smayyih section of the Huwaytat, and a man named Farhan we\u2019d nicknamed Walad al-Dhalul<\/em>: Dhalul\u2019s Son, after his mother. Farhan was from the Abu Rashidah section of the Shararat tribe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In the morning, we turned back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n By now, Juma\u2019s camel was worn out like mine. Every so often, she\u2019d plop down to rest. And the country we were in was a real wasteland.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then the third day of our return journey came. We camped on the edge of an erg\u2014a long sandy ridge about twenty miles long. In the morning, when the sun rose, Juma\u2019s camel was still resting. Farhan\u2019s camel and my own were up and grazing. We rousted Juma\u2019s camel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then I heard voices. I heard the sound of hooves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGents,\u201d I said, \u201cI hear voices coming from over there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Juma and Farhan told me that my fear was making me hear things. \u201cThat\u2019s your fear talking!\u201d Juma said. \u201cYou can\u2019t even hold yourself together!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019m telling you, man,\u201d I said, \u201cI hear voices!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n We ran up the side of the erg, and when we crested it, we saw men driving their camels ahead of them\u2014camels they\u2019d raided. They were laying into the beasts hard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I recognized the riders: Alayan al-Flayo and Mislim al-Flayo \u2013 both of whom were Shararat \u2013 and a man named al-Hosni, who was half-Sharari and half-Huwayti. They\u2019d been on the very same raid I\u2019d been on, and by the look of it, they\u2019d made off with some loot and were headed home. They were moving fast. They had in tow a young Sharari man named Hedayyan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n None of my comrades called out to them, so I did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAlayan!\u201d I said, \u201cMislim! Al-Hosni! Don\u2019t leave us behind! Our mounts are weak and straggling. Don\u2019t abandon us!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n But the riders were whipping their mounts and spurring them on with their shouts. The riding song they were singing went like this:<\/p>\n\n\n\n The enemy\u2019s camels\u2014steal \u2019em away!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n And if they can\u2019t keep up\u2014leave \u2019em behind!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n They were yelling at their stolen camels and driving them hard. When they had gotten some distance from us, they stopped and turned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAlayan al-Flayo?\u201d Alayan asked, feigning ignorance. \u201cWho are you to claim to know him? Alayan is a brave and fearsome leader of raids. And Mislim, his nephew, is also a brave and formidable man.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSeriously, brother?\u201d I said. \u201c\u2018Who are you to claim to know him?\u2019<\/em>\u2014lay off it! The whole world knows you, Alayan! I\u2019m Thani. This is Juma Abu Smayyih, and that\u2019s Farhan Abu Rashidah, Dhalul\u2019s Son. Don\u2019t leave us behind!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThen spur on your mounts and follow us!\u201d Alayan said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGo on, brothers, follow those men,\u201d I told Juma and Farhan, \u201cand I\u2019ll go back and get our mounts.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I went back for our mounts and drove them hard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We followed them. From sunup until the ghada <\/em>tree is as tall as its shadow, we traveled. We kept pace with them, neither catching up with them nor falling behind. I was driving the camels on my feet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The four men stopped their camels ahead of us. They had with them some camels who had recently given birth and been separated from their young in the raid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We went about tying the camels\u2019 noses tight so their udders would fill up with milk out of fear and pain. A camel generally won\u2019t lactate unless her young\u2019s around\u2014or unless she\u2019s forced to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So we milked the camels and diluted the milk with some water. We had a bowl we put a measuring stone in, and when the mixture of water and milk covered the stone, we\u2019d give it to someone to drink so that everyone got an equal portion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Before the bowl got to me, the liquid left in the bowl was dwindling. There was barely any left. Then it came my turn. One of the Shararat offered it to me, but al-Hosni snatched it away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBrother, that man\u2019s a slave whether he lives or dies,\u201d al-Hosni said. \u201cGive it here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n If Juma had been as brave as I was, we could have killed them all over al-Hosni\u2019s words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We continued a little ways, and I began to lag behind. My rifle was strapped to my camel, and she was running on ahead with the rest of the herd.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHey there, killer,\u201d I said to Hedayyan, \u201cI want you to look after my camel and rifle for me. I can\u2019t keep up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Hedayyan\u2019s camel had been killed in the raid. She was one of those black camels, a good-quality mount. To replace her, Hedayyan had recently broken a bakra<\/em>, a camel-filly, and tied a rein through her nose and a rein through her jowls. She was a solid camel. And long-eared, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAlayan,\u201d Hedayyan called out, \u201cAlayan, al-Hosni, Mislim! Keep an eye on Thani\u2019s camel for me. Let me take him to the watering hole.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n We had come to a watering hole called Gheran al-Banat<\/em>: Three Girls\u2019 Hollow. Hedayyan came back for me and mounted me on his camel. When Hedayyan got that camel going, she ran as fast as an antelope. We didn\u2019t stay at the spring for long. We had hardly drunk and filled our waterskins when the rest of the group arrived to drink.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAlayan, brothers,\u201d I said, \u201cI\u2019m riding a camel called Geheiwa<\/em>: Cappuccino. She\u2019s an excellent camel who warns of raiders and returns the stolen herd<\/em>. But even the best camels have their days. And she\u2019s spent. Whoever has a camel for me to ride, let me swap her for Cappuccino, and name the guarantor of your choosing. Tribesmen of mine who\u2019ll vouch for me are Refeifan ibn Dhiyab, Saleh al-Ghashim, and Muhammad ibn Munawer. And you know what, on top of that, you can consider Cappuccino yours. I just need a camel that\u2019ll save me, that\u2019ll get me out of here,\u201d I said, \u201cbecause our mounts and our men are far out in the desert.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIf you\u2019re real men with any sense of shame, any sense of manliness,\u201d one of the Flayo men said, \u201cyou won\u2019t accompany us from here on out. We\u2019re being followed by Ibn Suayyid, who\u2019ll kill a man and mutilate his remains. And you\u2019re just a bunch of unlucky guys separated from your herds. Hedayyan, however, is our responsibility. We won\u2019t leave him behind.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo, gentlemen, please!\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Now, Hedayyan had two camels. An algaha<\/em> \u2013 a heavily pregnant one \u2013 and a mouasher<\/em> \u2013 only a few months pregnant. The mouasher<\/em> was tan and bore the brand of the Rwala tribe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI have two camels,\u201d Hedayyan said, \u201cso choose one for the both of you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLet\u2019s take the algaha<\/em>,\u201d Juma said to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHell no,\u201d I said. \u201cShe\u2019ll just get skinnier and skinnier from all the riding and abort her fetus. Then she\u2019ll tire out, and we\u2019ll get left behind again. Let\u2019s take the mouasher<\/em>. She\u2019ll be just fine.\u201d A camel in the early stages of her pregnancy will run insanely fast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I took the saddle off Cappuccino and started in on the mouasher<\/em>. I sat her down and hobbled her. She was unbroken, had never been ridden before, didn\u2019t even know her own name. I bridled her with a lahi<\/em>, a rein you put through the jowls, and put a rein through her nose too. We tied our new camel to Juma\u2019s old one, and I started whipping them with a bamboo cane.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Once we got a little distance, the others began to catch up with us\u2014al-Hosni and the two Flayos, Alayan and Mislim.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJuma,\u201d I said, \u201cdamn it, man, look at them catching up with us. They\u2019ll want to take back the camel they just lent us. They\u2019re driving Cappuccino with them. Juma, look, brother, the two Flayo men\u2014they\u2019ll be easy to take, easy as pie. What I need you to do is kill that bastard al-Hosni for me. Because if they take these mounts from us, we\u2019re as good as dead. If they take our mounts, they\u2019ll be killing us<\/em>. So we\u2019re justified.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Juma started to act like a coward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou mean we\u2019re going to kill our own brothers?!\u201d Juma said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I figured I could kill at least two of them on my own. But the third one would kill me. And I figured Hedayyan wouldn\u2019t interfere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They were catching up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Later on, when my hands were tied and the shadow of the sword passed above my head, I didn\u2019t weep like I did then.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then they caught up with us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBrother Thani,\u201d they said, \u201csoon enough, your Dhiyabat kinsmen will force you to give us that camel back. They\u2019ll see she\u2019s an excellent camel \u2013 who warns of raiders and returns the stolen herd<\/em> \u2013 and that you\u2019ve made an unfair deal with us. And that you\u2019re ruining her. So take your own camel back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then they took her from me by force. I had no say in the matter. I put my bags and belongings back on Cappuccino. Farhan went along with the four men, who left me and Juma behind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Juma and I hurried on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then it was sunset.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We had a bit of flour left, so I began kneading it. The loaf was so small it wasn\u2019t even necessary to flip it in the fire to cook it on both sides. We only had a tiny bit of water left. But that was okay. It was a small piece of bread in a very hot fire. I divvied up the bread, gave one piece to Juma and kept one for myself. We ate it as we walked, driving our camels.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At this point, we were traveling by night. Just before dawn, it started to rain. Juma\u2019s camel started getting tired again, and every so often she would sit down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJuma,\u201d I called out, \u201clet\u2019s leave your camel behind, drape our water over Cappuccino and get a move on. Anyone could pick up our tracks, catch up with us in three days, and kill us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI won\u2019t leave my camel behind,\u201d Juma said. \u201cIf you want to leave, leave.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n While his pathetic camel rested, Juma wrapped a shawl around his head and slept. I collected some firewood and made a fire. We were in a little hollow, where a campfire couldn\u2019t be seen from afar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When the light of dawn appeared and gave us enough light to aim a rifle, to see as far as we could see. It was then that I shook Juma awake. I smacked the camel with the bamboo cane, and she jumped right up. Juma and I walked on, driving our camels.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Off to our side was an erg, a long sand ridge. I didn\u2019t know it then, but the enemy was encamped on the other side of it. The Ikhwan. We passed the ridge traveling two abreast. Juma was on my left, and I was on Juma\u2019s right. We were driving our camels on foot. Juma had his rifle slung over his shoulder while I was holding mine in my hand like a staff. We were driving our camels hard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In front of us, there was a little depression with a rock in it the size of a large bucket that was just smaller than a man sitting down. From where we were, the ridge was low, with a pass in it. And between us and the pass was a flat, open area. A plain. Cappuccino turned her head to the right. When I saw her turn like that, I turned and looked myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There were five men. One of the five men\u2019s camels was groaning and twisting her head around behind her, so I could tell she had recently been separated from her young, possibly in a raid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n * * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n For background, we Dhiyabat had a craftsman attached to our tribe named Humoud. Humoud was always making duweiraat<\/em>\u2014decorative cloths of braided leather to drape over camels\u2019 shoulders. And Humoud\u2019s camel sported one such duweira<\/em>. She was a light-colored racing camel, and her hooves were white. As I looked, I saw that the five riders had a light-colored camel with white hooves and a duweira<\/em> draped over her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThat must be one of our comrades from the raid we split up from,\u201d I thought.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLook, Juma,\u201d I said, \u201cit\u2019s our buddies, look! They have Humoud with them. Look at them, they\u2019re riding at us, on the attack, coming to take our mounts. Soon enough, when we\u2019re all back home, they\u2019ll make fun of us and claim that if we\u2019d been their enemies, we wouldn\u2019t have been brave enough to defend ourselves. So shoot, but don\u2019t shoot at Humoud\u2019s camel. Let\u2019s kill one of the mounts and later on say we mistook them for the enemy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI swear,\u201d Juma said, \u201cI\u2019ve never met someone like you. Ruthless and<\/em> cowardly. Why would we kill our own comrade\u2019s camel? You\u2019re a coward, vile and pathetic.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I shaded my eyes with my hand and saw they were wearing turbans.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Juma and I scrambled over to take cover behind the bucket-sized rock. My rifle had five rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber. In those days, rifles were of German make.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGents, who are you?\u201d I called out to them. \u201cTell me now, before there\u2019s a misunderstanding!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWho are you, not to recognize the Ikhwan?\u201d they replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As soon as they said that, the riders began driving their mounts at us as hard as they could. Their camels were sprinting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n From the cover of the rock, I shot the point man, who was riding Humoud\u2019s camel with the braided leather gleaming in the sun. When I shot him, he fell backward off his mount as far as the length of his jadilah<\/em>, the braided rope attached to the reins. The remaining four men jumped off their mounts and fled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The wounded man still had some life in him. He was calling out to his fleeing comrades, trying to spur them on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMen,\u201d he said, \u201cmen of the Jaafirah!\u201d Then I knew that they were from the Aniza tribe. \u201cIt\u2019s only two men!\u201d he continued. \u201cDon\u2019t let two men defeat you and take your mounts!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Juma sprinted over and grabbed me by the shoulders. \u201cWhat the hell, man?! You\u2019ve just gotten us killed!\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Juma had attacked me when I was seated and at a disadvantage, so I reached for my dagger and brandished it. Then I heard the sound of gunfire. An army of Ikhwan appeared in the pass in the ridge. The sun was low in the sky, and there were so many Ikhwan that they blocked it out. The five men were just an advance party.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I slashed at Juma with the dagger, and he let me go. Then I ran.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The five men\u2019s camels were still there, halted. I looked around, and the injured man\u2019s camel \u2013 Humoud\u2019s old camel \u2013 was turning around and around, circling him. Then I realized that Humoud\u2019s camel would be the one to get me out of there. I scrambled over to her, grabbing the reins, but the injured man had wound them around his arm. I tried again and again to shake the reins free. Finally, the man let them go. Then I hit him in the mouth with my rifle\u2019s buttstock.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I didn\u2019t know where Juma had gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There were two men out in front of the approaching group of Ikhwan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I hadn\u2019t mounted her yet. I cut the reins with my dagger and threw them over the saddle horn. The Ikhwan weren\u2019t going to give me the time to sit the camel down so I could mount her properly, so I jumped onto the bend in her neck to climb on to her back, and she set off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The two men in pursuit were a graybeard and a young man with a black moustache named Ali ibn Deheim, from the Aniza tribe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAli! Ali!\u201d the graybeard said, \u201cGod bless the good woman who named her son Ali! Kill the no-account slave!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I got a good distance on them, but I still hadn\u2019t settled properly into the saddle. As for Juma, if I\u2019d had any luck, God would have kept him far away from me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Once I got situated in the saddle and began to steer my new camel properly, I saw Juma running west as fast as he could. He was right in my path, his rifle slung over his shoulder. I sped up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJuma, don\u2019t worry, we\u2019ll be back home before you know it,\u201d I said, catching up with him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But the graybeard had really put the fear of God into Ali, the little bastard. Ali fixed his feet in the stirrups, and he was straddling his camel to anchor himself. He fired, and even though the shot missed, it put a smoking hole in my clothes. The graybearded bastard was calling out to him, \u201cAli! Ali! God bless the good woman who named her son Ali! Kill the no-account slave!\u201d I put Juma behind me, and we set off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n From sunup of that day, the Ikhwan pursued us. The main force of the Ikhwan fell behind, and only three men remained close behind: the graybeard and two other riders.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There\u2019s a wadi in those parts called Muayy, southwest of the town of al-Jawf. From its highest point, Wadi Muayy splits into two channels.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When we began descending the wadi, I steered our mount down the channel on the left. That camel took us far, and fast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The day started to wane. It was just after the \u2018asr<\/em>, the afternoon prayer. I sat the camel down next to a large ghada<\/em> tree. Juma and I could just make out our pursuers, and the main body of the Ikhwan army started to turn back. I sat our camel down, and we drank.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Now we were in an area called al-Jilf. The ground was covered with black rocks. And there was a trail.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJuma, brother,\u201d I said, \u201ctake the reins from me and steer our camel down that trail. If anyone comes at us from behind, I\u2019ll handle them, easy as pie. You cover our front.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhy don\u2019t we go back to Gheran al-Banat?\u201d I thought to myself. \u201cWe went raiding on two camels, and we\u2019ll be returning on one. Our friends and family are going to laugh at us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Three times I put my feet in the stirrups, fully prepared to ride off and leave Juma behind. But I thought to myself, \u201cIf I claim that Juma was killed, and then Juma survives and returns, people will say, \u2018You didn\u2019t take care of your buddy.\u2019 And if I admit to his family that I abandoned him, then shame on me.\u201d So I was between a rock and a hard place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Afterwards, I realized I\u2019d made a mistake. I could have held Juma at gunpoint and driven him on ahead of me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI swear,\u201d said Juma, \u201cfrom here on out, I can\u2019t go on like this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJuma,\u201d I said, \u201cyou ride in the saddle if you want us to go back and surrender to them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n At this point, we could barely see. We began descending Wadi Muayy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I looked up and saw a group of men on the ridge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Up ahead there was a bend in the wadi covered with ghada<\/em> trees.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJuma,\u201d I said, \u201clook to your left. There\u2019s a big group of men!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMan, what are you afraid of this time?\u201d Juma asked. \u201cThat\u2019s just a herd of gazelles.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I was looking around like so, my head on a swivel. I saw a man\u2019s head weaving in and out of the ghada<\/em> trees up ahead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJuma, goddamit,\u201d I said, \u201cLook! There\u2019s a man on your left! On your left!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then we entered a raised thicket. Juma spurred on our mount. The poor thing had been on the run since morning and burdened the whole time with two riders.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then the Ikhwan fell upon us. In the end, we were up against fifty well-trained war camels. The smaller group of men we then faced were the same ones from earlier that day, whom we thought we\u2019d left behind: Ali ibn Deheim and the graybeard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This time they had with them a young black man riding a hamra<\/em>, a light-colored camel, light as buckskin and fast as an antelope, the damn thing. But the young black man didn\u2019t have a rifle. When he whipped his camel with his bamboo cane, foam came flying out of her mouth like a zaghrouda<\/em>, an Arab woman\u2019s ululations at a wedding. He was whipping her hard, and she was jumping over bushes and trees.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJuma,\u201d I called out, \u201crein in our camel and let me dismount so I can take a shot at that bastard riding at us. If I kill one, we\u2019ll each have a camel to escape on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo,\u201d said Juma, \u201clet me shoot instead.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I leaned over to jump off the camel so I could shoot, and that bastard the graybeard from earlier called out, \u201cAli! Ali! God bless the good woman who named her son Ali! Kill the no-account slave!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ali fired and hit Juma in the back of his head, which split open like a watermelon. But I had never seen a dead body before, so I thought Juma might still be alive, might just be unconscious.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Juma weaved back and forth, and I grabbed him and steadied him so he wouldn\u2019t fall out of the saddle. Our camel took us a little ways. I pushed Juma ever so slightly, and he fell off the camel. His head fell to the side. The camel took me a bit farther, but I turned her around and returned to Juma. When I got back to him, I jumped down on to the ground and straddled him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So there I was, straddling Juma, his face turned toward the east.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Seeing as Ali was the most lethal of the Ikhwan, I told myself that if I could kill him<\/em>, I could kill the other forty-nine of them with no trouble at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ali and the graybeard had parked their camels to the west of my position, under the setting sun. The rest of the Ikhwan had parked their camels to the east. Not a rifle sounded from any of them. Not a shot was fired. And I sat there straddling Juma.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then Ali fired at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When I shot back, the bullets passed through Ali\u2019s clothes, leaving smoking holes. When Ali returned fire, his bullets did the same to mine. I was wearing a thobe<\/em> and a kibir<\/em>, and they\u2019d begun to look like the ears of baby rabbits from all the bullet holes. The graybeard, the old bastard, was still calling out to Ali, \u201cAli! Ali! God bless the good woman who named her son Ali! Kill the no-account slave! Kill the no-account!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n One of Ali\u2019s rounds struck Juma as I was straddling him and facing west. It hit Juma in the fleshy part of his hip. The bullet split one of his haunches open and caused Juma\u2019s thobe<\/em> to fly back. When I looked down, I could see white fat from below Juma\u2019s skin exposed. He wasn\u2019t stirring. And then I knew Juma was dead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So I turned around and saw my camel standing not far away, her legs apart, grazing in the brush. I scrambled over to her. And then, faster than you could splash water on your face, I jumped on her back and dug my heels into her sides. Then I heard the graybeard say, \u201cWhat a speedy camel, Ali! I wish I had one just like her! Dammit, Ali, God damn the breast you suckled from! That camel whats-her-name really has run off with him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The wadi took a turn. Off to the side, there was a pass in the ridge, a shortcut. If I had followed the longer course of the wadi, I would have come out all right. But I pitied my camel, who had been on the run since daybreak. So I went up toward the pass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My camel took me up there just as the sun was setting. But there was a group of men looking down at me from atop the ridge, and they were the enemy. One of them had a Mauser rifle that he\u2019d tricked out, a Gewehr 98, known as a sayyadah<\/em>: a sharpshooter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When my camel crested the ridge, the man shot her. The round entered her just where the tail meets the back, went through the length of her, and exited near where the neck meets the torso. I felt her shake, and I chided her, yelling \u201cGee up!\u201d Her ears went flat against her head out of fear and pain. She ran a short distance, and all of a sudden she was dead. She started to go down, then hit the ground, and blood began gushing out of her chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At that point, night had fallen. I fell off her, jumped right back up, grabbed the bandolier, and saw that it had no rounds left in it. I did a quick brass check and saw there were only two bullets left: one in the chamber and one in the magazine. I\u2019d been fighting, riding and running all day. And as soon as that camel fell, my strength ran out such that I was dragging the rifle by the barrel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The small team following me turned their mounts around, and the main body of Ikhwan met them at around the time of the \u2018isha<\/em>, the evening prayer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Someone from the main group asked, \u201cWhere did that group go, the one you were chasing?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOne was killed and the other escaped and is still alive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo way.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHis camel\u2019s somewhere over there,\u201d one of them replied. \u201cWe shot her and she fell.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWell, if that\u2019s the case, go back and look for him. He\u2019s severely dehydrated, so you\u2019ll find him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then they turned back toward me. As they were approaching, I could hear the voices of the graybeard and Ali.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The graybeard said, \u201cAli, Ali, God bless her who named her son Ali\u2014those are Huwaytat men. We pay them visits and seek their protection when we need to. But we Aniza prey only on the weak and helpless\u2014at least we have ever since we took up with the Ikhwan. The man is nearby, and he\u2019s severely dehydrated, so take him prisoner in the Huwaytat manner\u2014kindly, that is.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I was concealed in a stand of ghada<\/em> trees, and the approaching men began to hesitate and pussyfoot out of fear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ali approached and said, \u201cCome on out! Give yourself up, and you\u2019ll be under my protection. I swear to God, no one will lay a finger on you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhose protection?\u201d I asked. \u201cWho are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMy name\u2019s Ali ibn Deheim,\u201d he replied. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThen treat me as civilly as the Huwaytat treat their prisoners, with God as your witness,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019m a dead man walking, and with the ammunition I have left, you could very well die before me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou\u2019ll be under my protection, and that of Ibn Saud,\u201d said Ali. \u201cAs long as you\u2019re with me, not a fly can harm you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I emerged, dragging myself out of the thicket. I handed over my rifle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The men tore my clothes off and divvied them up among themselves. They only let me keep my headscarf. They had a kid with them, an adolescent boy. And the kid \u2013 the little punk bastard \u2013 whacked me with a bamboo cane three times.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAli,\u201d I said, \u201cGod damn you! You didn\u2019t protect me like you said you would, and you didn\u2019t let me get revenge with my own hands.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ali walked over to the kid and hit him with the butt of my rifle. The kid lost his balance and staggered off. \u201cGod curse you bullies,\u201d Ali said, \u201cwho prey only on the weak and helpless.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The men fell upon me, tied me up and put me on the back of a camel behind the little punk. The camel was black and bore the brand of the Najadat, a branch of the Huwaytat. She was bare – with no saddle or trappings on her at all. If only my hands had been free! By her stride and pace, I could tell she was fiercer and faster than the one I\u2019d ridden all day, and she could have ridden off with me under the night sky. I could have strangled the boy and gone off with her. But I was tied up. As far as I was concerned, I was a dead man.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A few hours later, we arrived at the Ikhwan encampment, which was at a spring called al-Shuayyireh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At al-Shuayyireh, there were too many people to count.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Our raiding party had originally set out from al-Fukouk, the wadi to the east of Wadi al-Hasah in eastern Jordan. In al-Fukouk, we Dhiyabat had horses and camels, and it was where our families and relatives lived.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When the Ikhwan took me down off the camel, I caught a glimpse of their campfire, blazing high as a Bedouin\u2019s goat-hair tent. When I looked around, I saw camels I knew to be my family\u2019s. I could see the Dhiyabat\u2019s camels, the Dhiyabat\u2019s horses. I could see the mares of Refeifan, Milhi, and Muhammad ibn Munawer. All the Dhiyabat\u2019s horses\u2014and all of them here!<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd to think I\u2019d been worried about myself!\u201d I thought. The Ikhwan hadn\u2019t brought along my family and relatives with the camels and horses. \u201cThey must all be dead,\u201d I thought.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then the Ikhwan took me and presented me before their amir<\/em>, their commander. He was from the craftsman class and from the town of Shagra, which is southeast of Hayil. His name was Ibrahim al-Nashmi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I looked around and saw a man from the Abu Tayeh section of my own tribe sitting there\u2014Mad\u2019hi al-Ghamawi. He had been raiding with the Ikhwan, but now he was their prisoner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A Sharari man came running. \u201cAmir, sir, and may God prolong your life,\u201d he began, \u201cdo you see this son of a bitch here? If there had been five more like him, not one of our fifty men would have survived to tell the tale.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I looked at the Sharari.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cTo hell with you and your petty little insult, son of a bitch<\/em>,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019m no different than you are. I\u2019m Akhu Thanwa<\/em> \u2013 Thanwa\u2019s Brother \u2013 and that\u2019s no mean thing! And if my hands were free, I\u2019d show you something else! Son of a bitch<\/em> \u2026 the real son of a bitch is the one who turned tail and ran scared like a hyena, earlier today when I was armed and free.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGo,\u201d al-Nashmi told the Sharari man. \u201cOff with you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Al-Nashmi patted me on the chest, right over my heart, to comfort me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIt\u2019s a lucky man who has the Huwaytat on his side in battle,\u201d al-Nashmi said. \u201cBut God damn you Aniza,\u201d he said to his raiders. \u201cI\u2019ll send fifty or sixty of you out, and you won\u2019t bring me back a thing\u2014no news, no intel!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I could see a grayhaired man sitting down. He had Daghish\u2019s rifle right there in front of him\u2014a cavalry gun with a decorative hook near the end of the barrel. Daghish\u2019s camel was sitting nearby. And the man was wearing Daghish\u2019s cloak.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou there!\u201d al-Nashmi said to me. \u201cBring me news of Daghish the camel-raider. Is he dead or alive?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n God gave me an unprecedented courage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAmir,\u201d I replied, \u201cand may God prolong your life\u2014if Daghish is dead, then so have many men died before him. And if he\u2019s still alive, you\u2019ll hear about him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAre you a slave or a freedman?\u201d asked Mad\u2019hi al-Ghamawi, the Abu Tayeh man.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about,\u201d I replied. \u201cWhoever wants to buy a slave, that\u2019s his business.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAmir, sir,\u201d Mad\u2019hi responded, \u201cthat black camel over there belongs to him, as does this light-colored one. The Huwaytat\u2019s blacks have houses and property.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat the hell?\u201d I exclaimed. \u201cI don\u2019t know this man. I\u2019ve never seen him in my life! Where\u2019s he from anyway?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHe\u2019s an Abu Tayeh man,\u201d al-Nashmi replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe Dhiyabat are about as friendly with the Abu Tayeh as we are with you lot,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo what brings you to these parts?\u201d al-Nashmi asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAmir, sir, and may God prolong your life,\u201d I said, \u201cit\u2019s not right, and it\u2019s not fair, that your women ride on the backs of camels, drink milk, and have houses and furniture while our Huwaytat women have to walk around on their own two feet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHot damn!\u201d the amir exclaimed. \u201cI knew it! I knew you were out raiding! Just as I said earlier, it\u2019s a lucky man who has the Huwaytat on his side in battle.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou\u2019ve taken everything we own, left us down and out,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n * * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n There was a Dhiyabat woman named Jidaya. She was the sister of Auda, the master horse trainer. And God be praised, Jidaya was beautiful. She was also barren. Whomever she wanted to marry didn\u2019t want to marry her. And whoever wanted to marry her, she didn\u2019t want to marry. Then along came a man from the Bani Sakhr tribe named Matar al-Shagawi. Matar married her, carried her off, and fell in with the religious nutcakes, the Ikhwan. He became a kind of secretary to the amir, Ibrahim al-Nashmi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n While I was still in al-Nashmi\u2019s presence, the graybearded Anizi man from earlier \u2013 Ali\u2019s companion \u2013 said, \u201cAmir, sir, and may God prolong your life\u2014our brothers-in-arms died out there. May God have mercy on their souls. We buried them on the top of that ridge,\u201d he said, pointing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In other words, the graybeard was asking al-Nashmi to have me executed for killing his buddies. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The amir wasn\u2019t a boorish man, so he picked up on the graybeard\u2019s meaning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou\u2019re an upstanding man,\u201d al-Nashmi replied. \u201cSo I know you\u2019ll understand the proverb: you win some, you lose some<\/em>. And this man here and his comrades,\u201d he said, pointing to me, \u201cwasn\u2019t sneaking around like a thief. He was out raiding, openly and nobly.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n At this point, Mad\u2019hi al-Ghamawi got up and started pleading with the amir for mercy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Al-Nashmi told him, \u201cTo hell with you, you traitor. No one feels sorry for you. One might feel sorry for this young man and his comrade, for Daghish and his men, and for the men buried atop that ridge, may God have mercy on them. But you? You came to us and gave us your word, with God as your witness, that you\u2019d recruit the shaykhs of the Northern tribes to the cause of the Ikhwan. And to that end, we kitted you out. We gave you three camels. The thobe<\/em> and jacket you\u2019re now wearing were from us. The shawl and Jawf-style cloak you\u2019re wearing were also gifts. And on top of that, you turncoat, you\u2019ve betrayed your own comrades. You\u2019ve mobilized the people of the North against us! Years from now, I hope it\u2019s never said that you were slain in battle, that you died an honorable death. Killing an innocent, defenseless woman would be worthier than killing you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n * * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSummon so-and-so for us!\u201d the men at the council said. \u201cLet him punish his brother.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I didn\u2019t know what the word punish<\/em> meant in their dialect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The men kept calling out, \u201cHey, so-and-so, present yourself, present yourself!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n After a while, a black man appeared, blacker than a whip snake you\u2019d find in a wasteland. In his hand hung a sword, gleaming like a whip snake\u2019s tongue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAt your service, amir, sir\u201d he said to al-Nashmi, \u201cand may God prolong your life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cPunish your brother,\u201d al-Nashmi ordered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And then I understood that by punish<\/em> they meant cut my head off<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The executioner sized me up. As he did, he said, \u201cAmir, and may God grant you long life–you might as well kill me first. It\u2019s unheard of for one brother to kill another. If he were white like you, even if there were fifty men like him, I\u2019d cut off all their heads\u2014as long as the decision and responsibility lay with you, of course.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGod damn your father!\u201d al-Nashmi said. \u201cGod curse him! You\u2019re from Najd, and he\u2019s from the North. What do you two have to do with each other?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMy brother amir,\u201d the executioner said, \u201cmy blood and his are one. We look alike. And my flesh and his are one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOff with you, then,\u201d al-Nashmi replied. \u201cLet the young man keep his fellow prisoners company tonight. He\u2019ll appear before Ibn Suayyid tomorrow, and then the matter will be decided.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n It was then that I saw Matar al-Shagawi in the majlis<\/em>. I recognized him. But neither one of us could reveal that he knew the other because al-Nashmi might have suspected collusion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Matar stood up to go home. He and his men mounted up and rode off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n * * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n When Matar got home, his Huwaytat wife Jidaya asked him, \u201cWere there any Huwaytat slain in the battle?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMay God protect you from their evil,\u201d Matar replied. \u201cNot one of them is left alive save Thani. Daghish and his men \u2013 thirty-six in all \u2013 were killed. Thani and Mad\u2019hi al-Ghamawi, that is.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n That night, Jidaya set out, taking with her a large group of people. She also took with her a little girl named Tarfa, who was only ten years old. Tarfa\u2019s father \u2013 Jidaya\u2019s brother \u2013 had died, and little Tarfa\u2019s mother had remarried. So Tarfa was Jidaya\u2019s niece.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When the sun came up, the group \u2013 a caravan, really \u2013 approached the Ikhwan camp. There were around sixty camels in the caravan, with men, women and children\u2014all of them come to beg favors from the amir. The people were starving, thin from hunger. To some al-Nashmi gave one camel, and to others he gave two, and so on and so forth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They loaded me onto a camel and strapped me to her. I was still tied up, fettered. Their intent was to send me to Ibn Suayyid\u2019s executioner, who might have fewer qualms about beheading me. They did the same to Mad\u2019hi Abu Tayeh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then the amir and his retinue stopped their camels to greet the caravan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When Jidaya and the caravan stopped and sat their camels down, I saw that she was covered in an abaya<\/em> with only the upper part of her face showing. She held a bamboo cane, a camel whip. Despite her foreign dress, and despite the fact that I didn\u2019t know it was her, she stood out to me as a native of my country. And I saw that she had a child with her. I was sure it was a little girl, and her head shone with blond hair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At the time, I was reflecting. Not about my death, but about my family, my people. My kin must have all died. They wouldn\u2019t have given their camels and livestock away without a fight, not as long as one of them were still alive. I figured the Ikhwan must have raided our camp at dawn and overrun them. How ironic! My people went out to raid, and it was our camp that ended up getting raided. I wondered who of my people had died and who had lived. There was no doubt in my mind that, had any one of them survived, he would have fought to defend his people and property. So the Ikhwan must have killed them all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When Jidaya arrived, she went immediately to al-Nashmi with Tarfa in tow. I\u2019ll say again, Jidaya was beautiful, too beautiful even to be a Dhiyabat girl, one might say. She had a very long neck. Jidaya was talking and gesticulating with her bamboo cane, shaking it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAmir, sir,\u201d Jidaya said, \u201cI\u2019ve come to you for those two Huwaytat men. In my family, we were seven sisters and seven brothers. But now there\u2019s no one left whose protection I can flee to, except for God Almighty and that boy there\u2014Thani. So please don\u2019t finish us off, please don\u2019t cut off our line.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou can have the black one,\u201d al-Nashmi replied, \u201cbut the white one won\u2019t see dawn tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n But of course, I didn\u2019t hear any of that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n * * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n A man named Muhammad Ibn Zarea, a swordsmith and al-Nashmi\u2019s retainer, came bolting toward me. Ibn Zarea was wearing a flimsy thobe<\/em>, and his heels were black with dirt. He was riding hard, fast as a bullet. He came right up to me, still strapped to the camel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHey, you!\u201d he said. \u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat do you want with my name?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cTell it to me,\u201d he said. Then he turned around. \u201cCome on, tell me,\u201d he said. \u201cTell me your name.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMy name\u2019s Thani,\u201d I said, \u201cand may God not return you to your people alive.\u201d God gave me the courage to speak those words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ibn Zarea went off, riding hard. He stopped and talked for a while with al-Nashmi, and he came running back. Then I knew something was up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Now, I hadn\u2019t seen Jidaya for seven years, and I didn\u2019t know she\u2019d taken up with that ragtag group of bandits, the Ikhwan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ibn Zarea came back and asked me, \u201cDo you have any kin in these parts? The amir wants to know. Do you have any kin in these parts?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI have a relative named Jidaya, the wife of Matar al-Shagawi,\u201d I said. \u201cBut I haven\u2019t seen or heard from her in seven years. I don\u2019t know if she\u2019s alive or dead.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then Ibn Zarea spun about and rode off. And again, he talked with al-Nashmi, and talked, and talked some more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This time, both al-Nashmi and Ibn Zarea came back. They took hold of the camel I was strapped to and sat her down. Ibn Zarea leaned over me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThani,\u201d he said, \u201crest assured, you\u2019re safe now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThis doesn\u2019t seem too safe to me,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When I approached them, I saw Jidaya. She greeted me with tears streaming down her face, which wasn\u2019t covered in the manner of the wives of the Ikhwan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDon\u2019t cry,\u201d I told her. \u201cI\u2019m no better than those men of ours who died.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBrother Thani,\u201d she said, \u201cI can\u2019t hug you. If I were to show you any affection, they\u2019d cut my head off.\u201d So she took my hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I was wearing my headscarf as a loincloth. Save for that headscarf, I was naked as the day I was born. And my feet were shackled in irons.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then they carried off the Abu Tayeh man, Mad\u2019hi al-Ghamawi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n * * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n When the caravan of beggars arrived, so did five riders. The five came from the north, riding hard. They claimed to have come across enemy tracks, possibly those of raiders, and they had come to inform the amir. They\u2019d picked up the tracks near Aweisit, also known as Tabarjal, a three days\u2019 ride from al-Shuayyireh by camel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The raiders who had made the tracks were from the North, from tribes bordering the settled areas of the Levant. They had left behind oak tannins when they were cleaning out their waterskins, and oaks only grow in the North. So the five riders came to inform al-Nashmi of this incursion and ask for his help.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cLet\u2019s camp here in al-Shuayyireh until we track down those enemies,\u201d al-Nashmi said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We camped there for seven days.<\/p>\n\n\n\n On the eighth day, we set off, and they moved me to the town of Dumat al-Jandal, also known as al-Jawf. I was imprisoned in a castle\u2014Qasr Marid, an ancient clay castle with a mosque where they cut people\u2019s heads off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The night we arrived, the executioner had his sword strapped to him and kept asking, \u201cWhere is he? Where\u2019s the infidel? Where\u2019s your prisoner, the infidel?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIbn Suayyid,\u201d al-Nashmi said, addressing the amir of al-Jawf, \u201cwe\u2019re your guests tonight. This man here, Thani, has been with us for seven days. He\u2019s become like a brother to us. If you kill him tonight, you\u2019ll really ruin our mood. So why don\u2019t you feed us dinner, and then we\u2019ll have some coffee, and soon enough \u2013 I mean, Friday\u2019s execution day, and it\u2019s staring us in the face! Then we\u2019ll bring him to you, and God willing, you can cut\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI have to cut his head off tonight,\u201d Ibn Suayyid said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWell, whether you cut it off or not,\u201d al-Nashmi said, \u201clook\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n They began to argue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBy God,\u201d al-Nashmi said, \u201cdon\u2019t cut his head off. We don\u2019t want your dinner or your coffee.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIf we were up North, I\u2019d have to kill him,\u201d Ibn Suayyid said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIf you cut his head off, I\u2019ll cut off yours, I will,\u201d said al-Nashmi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They continued to argue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Meanwhile, Jidaya snuck over to Ibn Zarea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIbn Zarea,\u201d she said, \u201cgo speak with Ibn Suayyid. Tell him that if he pardons Thani, this little girl here, Tarfa, who\u2019s only ten years old\u2014well, when she comes of age, there\u2019ll be no one left responsible for marrying her off besides Thani. I\u2019ll have Thani give her to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n And Tarfa was beautiful, by God. Ibn Zarea, however, was an ugly, useless, one-eyed man. And a townsman to boot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The morning came, but God didn\u2019t decree that I be executed that day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n * * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n For seven months I was a prisoner there. Every Friday, they would bring me out to the town square to cut my head off, but the blade never swung for me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The thirtieth Friday was the day our Lord failed to guide Ibn Suayyid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I knelt there, and the executioner poked me with the tip of his sword, saying \u201cYour shoulders are wide, like the shoulders of camels from the North.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I knew I was going to die, so I said the shahadah<\/em>, the Islamic profession of faith.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou know the shahadah<\/em>, you little infidel?\u201d asked the executioner in surprise. The Wahhabis assume that all their enemies are godless infidels.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Wahhabis are also forbidden from executing anyone until after they pray. So after that day\u2019s prayers, the first group of worshippers left the mosque, then the second. Al-Nashmi and his retinue, which included Matar al-Shagawi, were part of the second group.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Again the executioner poked me with the tip of his sword. While I was kneeling there, I could see the shadow of the sword on the ground as the blade rose above my head. I didn\u2019t cry out to anyone for help or attempt to speak to al-Nashmi. I was facing south, toward Mecca, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see al-Nashmi looking at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIbn Suayyid!\u201d al-Nashmi said. \u201cStay your hand! If that executioner raises his arm to strike him, I\u2019ll cut your<\/em> head off.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Everyone there in the square began clapping for al-Nashmi, shouting, \u201cWell done! Good on you, sir! God reward you!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBut I have to kill him!\u201d Ibn Suayyid said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cIbn Zarea! Take the prisoner away,\u201d commanded al-Nashmi. \u201cSet him free.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then the two amirs had words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n People came and freed me from my chains.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Once they had, they said, \u201cCome on, now, get up! Run away! Flee!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I tried to move my right leg, but it might as well have been pinned to the ground with a tent peg. Then I tried to move the left one, and the same thing happened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMen,\u201d I told them, \u201cI\u2019m a dead man. Leave me be.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then al-Nashmi was standing there with them. \u201cCarry him to the water,\u201d he ordered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Nearby there was a spring called Ayn Arous<\/em>: Bride\u2019s Spring. It has three palm trees and a tamarisk. There\u2019s also a little rock ledge nearby. Its water is clearer than kerosene, and pure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They took me to the water so I could drink. I cupped some water in my hands, but I couldn\u2019t swallow it. It came out of my nostrils. I tried a second time, and the same thing happened. The third time I tried, al-Nashmi was there, standing over me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cCarry him to the tent,\u201d he ordered. \u201cMelt some butter, and drip it into his nose to help with the dehydration.\u201d This was according to traditional Bedouin medicine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n * * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n The two amirs \u2013 Ibrahim al-Nashmi and Abdulrahman Ibn Suayyid \u2013 took their dispute to Hayil and argued my case. Jidaya, too, traveled the two hundred miles from al-Jawf to Hayil to plead my case.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When they appeared before Ibn Musa\u2018id, the amir of Hayil, he asked them, \u201cHow many months has Thani been with you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSeven months,\u201d they replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHas he betrayed you?\u201d Ibn Musa\u2018id asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHas he done you any harm?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBeforehand, had he come to you, agreed to work with you, and then<\/em> betrayed you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo. This young man was out raiding, openly and frankly.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBrother,\u201d Ibn Musa\u2018id said, \u201cyou have every right to treat as an enemy whoever first treats you as one. But if you attack people and take their property, then you can expect them to attack you and take it back! Ibn Saud didn\u2019t appoint you to kill whomever you catch. He appointed you to be an agent of his authority, to keep alive whom you keep alive and kill whom you kill. The decision about Thani is yours to make. I\u2019m not here to bear the burden of every decision, to micromanage you. If you execute him, it\u2019s not as if the women of the North are going to go barren, give up sex, and stop having babies who\u2019ll grow up to be our enemies. But if you save his life, well, you, Ibn Suayyid, are an amir, and this young man might bring you more amirs from up North.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n After the case was heard, I was pardoned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then, Jidaya told me, \u201cGo and kiss the amir on his forehead in thanks for pardoning you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI swear to God, and as I am your brother,\u201d I said, \u201cI won\u2019t debase myself by kissing his head. But I will perform the bayadh<\/em> ceremony for him\u2014stand outside his tent with a white banner and proclaim to the world what a great man he is.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGood on you, brother,\u201d Jidaya replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So the Ikhwan released me after seven months.<\/p>\n\n\n\n * * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n When they released me, al-Nashmi told me, \u201cThani, you old rogue, apart from you, I can\u2019t recall anyone who fell into our hands and survived. The only reason I kept you alive was your manly virtues and your good character.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Al-Nashmi offered me the opportunity to stay on with the Ikhwan, but I refused. So al-Nashmi called on me for a favor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThani, listen up,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes, sir,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI need something from you. I want you to give me the names of the amirs of the North, the leaders of the townspeople and the Bedouins alike.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAmir, and may God prolong your life,\u201d I said, \u201cwe Huwaytat and the Bani Sakhr are at war. But I can give you the names of all the amirs from here to al-Karak.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cVery well,\u201d said al-Nashmi. \u201cThe amirs of your lands\u2014amirs of the Bedouins and the townspeople.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n And I named them. Shaykhs of the Majali tribe, of the Bani Hamida, and all the rest. Any and all shaykhs south and east of Mount Shihan and all throughout the muhaddar<\/em>\u2014the slope that extends south from Ras al-Nagab to Aqaba in southern Jordan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Al-Nashmi gave me enough official letters to fill my camel\u2019s saddlebags. Every letter came as a bound volume with the name of the shaykh in question printed on the front of it. The letters claimed that whoever came to the Ikhwan alongside me would do so safely and under God\u2019s protection, and that if he left his family an unjust man, he would return to them safe and well after swearing allegiance to Ibn Saud.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Back then, in Jordan, folks were ignorant and politically inexperienced\u2014simple folk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I took the letters and gave them to Refeifan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI\u2019ll go with you, Thani, and help deliver them,\u201d Refeifan said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But Refeifan destroyed my plan. He lit a fire, tore the letters up, and burned them all out of hatred for the Ikhwan.<\/p>\n\n\n\n If not for Refeifan, you\u2019d find southern Jordan in northern Saudi Arabia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" by Sulayman Thani al-Dhiyabat al-Huwayti translated and adapted by William Tamplin You wanted to hear my story, so I\u2019ll tell you. My name\u2019s Thani al-Dhiyabat, from the Dhiyabat section of the Huwaytat tribe. In 1930, when I was around twenty-one, I went raiding for camels in al-Jawf, in northern Saudi Arabia, with some of my … Read More<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1106,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1103","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/02\/jeff-jewiss-XqGQCsiAjaI-unsplash.jpg?fit=640%2C427&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1103","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1103"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1103\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1127,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1103\/revisions\/1127"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1106"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1103"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1103"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1103"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Will Tamplin is a communications officer in the US Marine Corps. He is also a literary translator from Arabic with a PhD in comparative literature from Harvard. This is an adaption of a tale he recorded in the desert of Jordan in the summer of 2018.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n