NIGHT 56
THE TALE OF QAMAR AL-ZAMAN CONTINUES
The night before, Scheherazade told the tale without waiting for anyone to ask. That was a mistake. They should ask. Then she could give—like a commodity changing hands. They needed to understand these stories didn’t simply happen. Scheherazade spent the day scanning the town, on the alert for details that might feed her tales. No one should take her sweat and tears for granted. She listened to the cicadas and waited. “Sister?” came Dinarzad’s voice. “Continue the tale of the storm, Wife.” The storm. Is that all he cared about? Well, Scheherazade wouldn’t dwell on the storm. These stories were her one bit of control in life. She would not yield that to him. Not that.
he storm ended. No more rain, lightning, thunder. The contents of the ship rolled on the seafloor. The men flailed in the rough surf. Waves washed Marzuwan toward the royal pavilion where Qamar al-Zaman lay listless. He had not eaten or drunk for days. Shah Riman slumped nearby, pulling mindlessly at the hair on his arm.
His vizier stood at the window. “Someone’s caught in the current. Your Majesty, may I open the sea gate for him?”
“If you bring him inside, he’ll see the depths to which my son has fallen. He’ll tell, and people will gloat, for everyone is envious of royalty and wants to see us fail.”
“If I don’t, he’ll drown.”
“Bah! Save him. But if he tells, I’ll have both your heads.”
The vizier opened the gate. He caught Marzuwan by the hair and pulled him to safety. “Inside the pavilion is a dying prince. Don’t look at him, or we both die.”
“Why is the prince dying?”
“Three years ago he refused to marry, so his father locked him away. He claimed a maiden visited him and he took her ring. He pines for her. He’s dying for her.”
The Value of Nothing
In this tale the prince offers his services as, among other things, an arithmetician. In medieval times all areas of learning were considered connected, so an arithmetician might well be expected to know about many things, including healing. Most of the work of the arithmeticians of this time, however, was related more strictly to mathematics as we know it. In the late 900s the Persian scholar Muhammad ibn Ahmad al-Khwarizmi made up the number zero as a placeholder, useful in mathematical calculations. Although, really, Egyptian scholars had been using a symbol equivalent to zero for almost 3,000 years before that. Imagine trying to do anything in mathematics without zero.
Marzuwan realized this must be the Qamar al-Zaman he’d been searching for. Marzuwan walked into the pavilion, straight to the prince. He recited a love poem, and whispered that Princess Budur awaited him, locked in prison in the kingdom of Ghayur. Qamar al-Zaman sat upright. He spoke quietly with Marzuwan, so his father could not hear. They ate and drank. His health quickly returned. Shah Riman had the town celebrate with drums and dancing. The next day Marzuwan planned Qamar al-Zaman’s escape, for both knew his father would not allow him to travel yet.
Qamar al-Zaman told his father he was going hunting in the countryside. He filled his saddlebags with money. When they were far from the palace, Qamar al-Zaman and Marzuwan galloped hard. They left behind the servants. After a few days, they killed a camel and a horse, ripped up Qamar al-Zaman’s clothes, and threw them in the blood. That way when the king’s men found them, they would think the prince had died and give up the search.
They traveled to the islands of King al-Ghayur. Qamar al-Zaman stood in the streets calling, “Scribe, doctor, astrologist, arithmetician—I am all! Who needs my services?”
The townspeople had pity. “Stop your mongering,” they warned. “Leave, or your head will wind up on the palace gate, like the head of the other astrologers and arithmeticians.”
Qamar al-Zaman didn’t stop, of course. King al-Ghayur sent for him. The prince hurried straight to the room where the princess was chained. He stopped outside the curtain and wrote a letter declaring his love. He had the guard deliver it.
Princess Budur unfolded the letter and her own ring dropped into her palm. She read the letter. At last! She planted her feet against the wall and strained until the iron around her neck snapped. She pulled the curtain aside and threw herself into Qamar al-Zaman’s arms.
On that day they were wed.
Shah Rayar clapped.“Wonderful tale. All obstacles overcome.”
“It’s not finished,” said Scheherazade. “New obstacles may come.”
“What new obstacles?”
“You’ll see. The real question is, can they surmount them together?”
“Can they?” asked Shah Rayar.
Scheherazade smiled. 
The princess’s foster brother brought the youth to where the princess was locked up. When the princess and the youth were finally reunited, they married immediately. It seemed misery was behind them at last.