She said: This tale concerns the kingdom of Diyar Bakr, and its capital city of Harran, where there reigned a Sultan of illustrious lineage. He was a protector of his people, a lover of his subjects, and a friend to mankind, renowned for every good quality. God had blessed him with all he could desire—save one thing: a son. Though he had many lovely wives and fair concubines in his harem, he had been granted no child. So he turned to constant prayer and worship.

One night, a holy man appeared to him in a dream, looking like a prophet. The man said, "O powerful King, your prayers are answered. Tomorrow at dawn, pray two units and make your petitions. Then go to the Chief Gardener of your palace and ask for a pomegranate. Eat as many of its seeds as you wish. Pray again, and Allah will bless you with grace and favours."

The King awoke at dawn, remembering the vision. He gave thanks to Allah, prayed, and made his supplications. Then he went to the garden and received a pomegranate from the Chief Gardener. He counted out and ate fifty seeds—one for each of his wives. That night, he lay with all of them, and by God's omnipotence, all became pregnant save one, a woman named Firuzah.

The King conceived a hatred for Firuzah, thinking, "Allah has cursed this woman. He wills that she not bear a prince, and so she is barren." He wanted to have her killed, but the Grand Wazir interceded for her, saying, "Perhaps she is with child but does not yet show it, as is the case with some women. If you kill her, you may be destroying a prince along with her mother."

The King agreed not to slay her but said, "She must leave the court and the city. I cannot bear to see her." The Wazir replied, "I will have her sent to your cousin, Prince Samir, in Samaria."

So Firuzah was sent to Samaria. When her time came, she gave birth to a beautiful boy. Prince Samir sent word to the Sultan: "A prince has been born to Firuzah. May Allah give you permanence and prosperity!"

The Sultan was filled with joy. He replied to Prince Samir, "Each of my forty-nine wives has given me a son, and now Firuzah has also blessed me. Let him be named Khudadad—God's Gift. Care for him well, and spare no expense for his birth ceremonies."

Prince Samir took charge of young Khudadad with pleasure. As soon as the child was old enough, Samir had him taught horsemanship, archery, and all the arts and sciences that princes must know. He became skilled in every branch of learning. At eighteen years of age, he was beautiful to behold and possessed such strength and courage that none in the world could compare with him.

Feeling his vigour and ability, Khudadad said to his mother Firuzah one day, "O Mother, give me leave to depart from Samaria and seek my fortune in battle. My father, the Sultan of Harran, has many enemies lusting to wage war against him. It seems strange that he does not call upon me to aid him. Surely, with the strength and courage Allah has given me, it is not fitting that I remain idle at home while my father faces enemies on all sides. He does not know of my prowess, nor does he think of me at all. Yet it is right that I present myself to him and offer my services until my brothers are old enough to fight."

His mother replied, "Your absence grieves me, but you are right. It becomes you to help your father against his enemies—if he sends for you."

But Khudadad could not wait. His longing to see his father was so great that he told his mother, "I cannot delay any longer. If I do not go and kiss my father's feet, I will surely die. I will enter his service as a stranger, unknown to him. He will think me a hired servant or a foreigner. I will serve him with such devotion that when he learns I am his son, he will grant me his favour."

Though Prince Samir forbade him to go, Khudadad one day set out under the pretext of hunting. He rode a milk-white horse with golden reins and stirrups, and a saddle of azure satin adorned with jewels and pearls. His scimitar was hilted with a single diamond, its sheath of precious wood set with rubies and emeralds, and hung from a gem-studded belt. His bow and richly wrought quiver hung at his side.

He rode in fine fashion to Harran city and presented himself before the Sultan in the Divan. The King, struck by his beauty and grace, or moved by some natural affection, greeted him warmly. He asked Khudadad his name and family.

Khudadad replied, "O my liege, I am the son of an Emir of Cairo. A love of travel has made me wander from land to land, and hearing that you have matters of importance at hand, I wish to show you my valor and skill."

The King rejoiced at these bold words and gave Khudadad a post in his army. Through his careful supervision, the troops were well-ordered, and both officers and soldiers came to respect him for his strength, courage, good nature, and kindness. When the King inspected the army and saw its perfect order, he was delighted. He made Khudadad Chief Commander of all his forces and showed him special favour.

The Wazirs and nobles, seeing Khudadad's high standing, showed him abundant goodwill. But the King's other sons—the forty-nine princes—grew envious. Khudadad, for his part, continued to please the Sultan through his prudence, wisdom, and wit, gaining his regard more and more. When invaders heard of the army's discipline and Khudadad's preparations, they abandoned their plans to attack.

The King then entrusted the education and custody of his forty-nine sons to Khudadad, relying wholly on his wisdom and skill. Though Khudadad was the same age as his brothers, he became their master through his wisdom and good sense. This made them hate him all the more.

One day, the princes gathered in secret and plotted against him. One said, "Why does our father make this stranger his companion and place him over us? We cannot act without his permission. Our situation is unbearable. We must rid ourselves of this foreigner and make him vile and contemptible in our father's eyes."

Another said, "Let us kill him in some lonely place."

But a third replied, "No! If we kill him, how can we hide it? Our father would become our enemy, and we do not know what evil might befall us. Instead, let us ask his permission to go hunting. We will stay away in some distant town. After a time, our father will miss us and grieve. Growing angry and suspicious, he may expel this fellow from the palace or even have him killed. This is the only safe way."

The end of the Five Hundred and Ninety fourth Night

The forty-nine brothers agreed to this plan. They went to Khudadad and asked leave to go hunting, promising to return by sunset. He allowed them to go, but they did not return that day or the next or the day after.

On the third morning, the King, missing his sons, asked Khudadad where they were. He answered that three days before, they had asked leave to go hunting and had not returned.

The Sultan was greatly perplexed. As more days passed and the princes still did not appear, the King grew deeply troubled. At last, unable to contain his rage, he summoned Khudadad and cried out, "O negligent stranger! What daring is this that you allowed my sons to go hunting without escorting them? It is right that you go and find them and bring them back, or you will surely die!"

Khudadad, startled and alarmed, mounted his horse at once and left the city to search for the princes. He wandered from country to country, searching plains and deserts like a shepherd seeking lost goats. Finding no trace of them, he grew sad and sorrowful, thinking, "O my brothers, what has happened to you? Where can you be? Perhaps some mighty enemy has made you prisoners. I may never return to Harran unless I find you, for this would bring bitter grief to the King."

At length, as he searched from plain to plain and forest to forest, he came upon a vast prairie in the midst of which rose a castle of black marble. As he rode closer, he saw at a window a lady of exceptional beauty and loveliness. She was dressed in tattered clothing, her lovely hair hung down in disarray, and her face showed sadness and sorrow. She was speaking softly, and Khudadad heard her say, "O youth, flee this fatal place, else you will fall into the hands of the monster who dwells here! An man-eating Ethiopian is lord of this palace. He seizes all whom fate brings to this prairie and locks them in dark cells to preserve them as food."

Khudadad exclaimed, "O lady, tell me who you are and where you are from!"

She answered, "I am a daughter of Cairo, of noble birth. As I was travelling to Baghdad, I alighted on this plain and met this Ethiopian. He slew all my servants and brought me here by force. I no longer wish to live. Better to die than to endure what awaits me. Tomorrow, if I still refuse him, he will ravish me and murder me. But why have you come here to perish? Escape without delay! He has gone to seek other travellers, but he will return soon. He can see far and wide across this plain."

Hardly had she finished speaking when the Ethiopian appeared in the distance. He looked like a demon—huge, fearsome, and terrible. He rode a sturdy horse and wielded a great blade that only he could lift.

Prince Khudadad was amazed, but he prayed for victory and drew his sword, standing firm and courageous. The Ethiopian, thinking the Prince too slight to be a threat, meant to seize him alive. But Khudadad struck him a blow on the knee so dour that the negro foamed with rage and bellowed so loudly that the whole prairie resounded.

The Ethiopian rose in his stirrups and struck fiercely at Khudadad with his huge sword. But the Prince's skill in swordcraft and his clever horse saved him—the blow would have split him in two like a cucumber. Khudadad struck again, severing the Ethiopian's right hand, which fell to the ground still gripping the sword. The giant lost his balance and rolled from his saddle. The Prince sprang down and severed the enemy's head from his body.

The lady, watching from the window in prayer, saw the Ethiopian slain and the Prince victorious. She cried out with joy, "Praise be to Allah! You have destroyed this fiend by your hand. Come to me! The keys to the castle are with the Ethiopian. Take them and free me!"

Khudadad found a large bunch of keys beneath the dead man's girdle. He opened the castle doors and entered a great hall where the lady stood. She ran to meet him, intending to kiss his feet, but he prevented her. She praised him with the highest praise and called him the most valiant of all champions. They sat down in pleasant conversation, and she seemed even more graceful and beautiful when seen near at hand.

Presently, Khudadad heard shrieks and cries, weeping and wailing from below. He asked the lady, "Where do these cries come from?"

She pointed to a hidden wicket in the courtyard below and said, "Many wretches, driven by fate, have fallen into the Ethiopian's clutches. They are locked in cells below, and each day he would roast and eat one of the captives."

"I will be glad to deliver them," said Khudadad. "Show me where they are imprisoned."

The lady led him to the place. He tried several keys until one opened the dungeon door. As they unlocked it, the cries of the captives grew louder, for hearing the keys and footsteps, they thought the cannibal had come to fetch one of them for his evening meal.

When Khudadad opened the dungeon, he found a steep staircase leading down into a deep, dark pit. There he found more than a hundred persons, their elbows pinioned and their limbs in chains, with light only from a single opening high above.

He cried out to them, "Fear no more! I have slain the Ethiopian! Praise Allah, who has freed you from your oppressor! I will strike off your fetters and restore you to freedom!"

The prisoners rejoiced with exceeding joy and raised cries of celebration. Khudadad and the lady began to loose their hands and feet. As each man was freed, he helped to unchain his fellows. Soon all were delivered from their bonds. Each kissed Khudadad's feet and gave him thanks and prayers for his welfare.

When the prisoners entered the courtyard and saw the sun shining, Khudadad recognised among them his forty-nine brothers! He was amazed and cried out, "Praise be to God! I have found you all safe and sound! Your father grieves deeply at your absence. Thank Heaven this demon has not devoured any of you!"

He counted them—all forty-nine princes were there. In excess of joy, they fell upon one another's necks and embraced their savior.

Khudadad then spread a feast for all the captives he had delivered. When they had eaten and drunk their fill, he restored to them the gold and silver, carpets, and silks and other valuables that the Ethiopian had plundered from caravans, as well as their own belongings. He directed each man to claim his own, and the remainder he divided equally among them.

He said to them, "But how will you carry these bales to your own countries? Where will you find beasts of burden in this wilderness?"

They replied, "O our lord, the Ethiopian stole our camels with their loads. They are surely in the castle stables."

Khudadad went to the stables and found not only the camels but also the forty-nine horses of his brothers, all tethered there. He gave each man his own animal. There were also hundreds of Ethiopian slave boys in the stables. When they saw the prisoners freed and their master slain, they fled in terror to the forest.

The merchants loaded their merchandise upon the camels and, bidding farewell to the Prince, set out for their own countries.

Then Khudadad said to the lady, "O rare beauty, where do you come from, and where will you go? Tell me so I may restore you to your home. Perhaps my brothers know your land, and they will escort you there."

The lady replied, "I live far from here, in Egypt, which is too distant to travel easily. But you have saved my honour and my life from the Ethiopian's hands and shown me such kindness that I must tell you my history. I am the daughter of a mighty king who ruled the upper Nile lands. But a tyrant enemy conquered him, took his life, and usurped his throne. I fled to preserve my life and honour."

Khudadad and his brothers he asked to tell them all that had happened to her, saying, "From now on, you will live in comfort and luxury. Neither toil nor trouble shall befall you."

She began to recount her story...