The old woman’s eyes glowed in the firelight. They gleamed mysteriously, and her upper lip, which was a network of wrinkles, rose. She remarked, “It’s really hard to recall a dying person’s delirious words, the words of a person who has left the land of games and dolls and reached the far side of the valley.”
The diviner drew closer to the old woman’s ear and insisted in a voice like a hiss, “In delirium the secret is concealed. In the nonsensical raving of a possessed person is hidden the prophecy.”
He whistled and added with all the certainty of a diviner, “In the prattle of a possessed person is hidden the supreme prophecy. So watch out!”
The old woman was silent. She lowered her eyelids, which were also covered with wrinkles. But her hands never stopped massaging the girl’s body. Finally she spoke; she spoke without opening her eyes. She spoke like a real diviner: “Tekrahame eddaragh.”
She stopped. Her face’s wrinkles trembled and its folds expanded. The veins of her slender neck bulged and became a web of veins. She said with the girl’s voice, with the voice of prophecy: “Tekrahame eddaragh. Ekaoankrahagh ammutagh. You possessed me when I was alive. Now that I’m dead, I’ll possess you.”
The diviner repeated numbly, “Tekrahame eddaragh. Ekaoankrahagh ammutagh.”
He repeated this prophecy once, twice, several times. Then he straightened himself and lifted his head to look up. As if addressing the heavens he said, “The prophecy! This is the prophecy. We slaughter sacrificial offerings and race off to search for it across the generations, forgetting that it lies between the lips of a possessed person or is hidden in the mouth of a creature we call crazed, for what would become of the desert’s tribes if the desert lacked prophecy? What would happen to settlements if the desert lost its leaders and if leaders from the realm of the Spirit World didn’t send prophecies via the tongues of possessed people to provide illumination for their tribes’ path during the leaders’ occultation? Have you finally heard your leader’s voice? Isn’t this his language? Didn’t he always like to speak in riddles?”
He moved to the other corner, where the elders were huddled, and said as though addressing all of them or no one at all — because at that moment he was preoccupied by addressing the tribes of the Unknown, “Isn’t what you just heard the wise answer befitting a leader? Hasn’t he told you something he wasn’t able to tell you while among you? Didn’t we possess him while he was alive? Didn’t we prevent him from marrying his beloved poet? Didn’t we require him to accept the position of leader, which was a shackle for him? Didn’t we visit him with groups of people to force him to take trips through the wasteland against his will? Weren’t we too stingy to let him enjoy the bird’s song? Do you doubt now that the voice we heard is your former leader’s? Will you doubt again the power of the dead to carry out a threat? Do you intend to disdain a promise? Or will you heed the advice of wisdom and accept the leadership of a man whom you possessed while he was alive and who has sworn to possess all of you now from behind the curtain? Do you still doubt that your leader will remain your leader forever?”
He turned to the crowd gathered at the tent’s entrance and screamed a command: “Slaughter a sacrificial beast! How can a prophecy be taken seriously unless the blood of sacrificial offerings is shed? How do you expect the goddess of this prophecy to recover from the grip of the Spirit World before she’s been washed by blood? Bring a black goat if you want the girl to recover. Bring your blackest goats, if you want a real cure that has nothing in common with grannies’ nasty incense.”
The vassals and slaves rushed off and brought back from the open country the blackest goats. They handed the diviner a bronze dagger. The diviner rushed at the cluster of women and ordered that the sacrificial offering be flung beside the body of the possessed woman. He recited ancient talismans of which no one ever understood a single word. Passing generations had labeled these “arcane” because of their age. They were said to be puzzling because they had been written in the first language, which had become obsolete, vanished, and been forgotten, bequeathing to the tribes only some mystifying words spoken as talismans that not even the diviner himself understood.
He drew the dagger from the scabbard, which was also adorned with talismans. The dagger’s blade shone in the firelight and its path traced a design in the void. The soothsayer brought the thirsty blade down on the victim’s throat, and blood gushed out copiously. The animal emitted a death rattle and choked with the pains of its dying gasp. More blood flowed from its throat. The blood splattered and stained the maiden’s throat, nape, and face. Her body underwent a transformation. The overstressed frame began to relax, the tension left her facial muscles, the possessed look left her eyes, the foam ceased oozing from her mouth, and her breathing became more regular and regained its lost harmony.
A profound stillness settled over the miserable body, and her lips muttered in a sleepy daze, “Tekrahame eddaragh. Ekaoankrahagh ammutagh.”
Outside the tent, in the arc of the Eastern horizon, a newborn firebrand appeared, signaling the birth of a new dawn. The diviner muttered, “You’re right. Like any other people, we understand nothing about our situation; but we do know that truly no one is better suited to succeed the leader than the leader himself.”
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8. Anhi and Lost Book are other ways of referring to al-Namus, the Law.
VI THE LOVER
What you sow does not come to life unless it dies.
The stone expresses that side of the self that rises, isolated, stretched toward nature.
1
They convened a new assembly, and the diviner began, “Who but the leader can succeed the leader?”
When his question was met with general silence, he posed this challenge: “Let anyone who can bring the tribe a leader fit to succeed the leader speak up.”
No one spoke.
The diviner announced: “We repudiated his leadership qualities when he was leader. Now after moving to the Spirit World he has nominated himself as our leader. Should we spurn the Spirit World and ignore the prophecy?”
He pointed his finger at the stones of the tomb and declared sternly, “From today forward, this pile of stones is our treasure. Do you know how he answered me when I asked him about migrations?”
Their curiosity got the better of their sense of decorum, their wisdom failed to buttress their feigned indifference, and their pride lost its ancient, contentious scorn for worldly matters. So at the same time their tongues all blurted out: “What did he say? Tell us — how did he reply to the question about migration?”
The diviner smiled with the malice of cunning strategists and deliberately took his time in replying. He deliberately delayed his response in order to kindle in their breasts the fire of curiosity and to inflame the hearts of the elders, who had always scorned his yearning to search for a prophecy. He was silent for a long time. Then he spoke. He did not speak the way he normally did. He also forsook the dignified demeanor of soothsayers and … sang. He pulled his veil down over his eyes, lifted his head up, and swayed like an ecstatic person in a trance. He chanted the prophecy in a melodious voice: “T’falam amadal, tekkam amadal, me tekkam? You depart from dirt and journey toward dirt; so what is the point of the trip?”