KeYnNamM:
King-Without-Name,
King of No-One’s-Land
by Ruwen Rouhs
The story is dedicated to the brave People of the Ukraine
English Version of KeYNamM
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Chapter 18
Yufayyur's Clan
Ikken froze in the cool breeze. He fished for the light blanket he had kicked away in his sleep and pulled it over his head. But after a moment, he pushed it back enough to look around. Where was he?
Gray twilight filtered through opening at the head of his bed. With the light, cool air was streaming into the tent and went out through the tent opening at the foot. He sat up. He was not alone. Next to him lay Yufayyur with his back to him, completely naked, that is, not completely, for the corner of the blanket they had both shared covered the middle of his body. When he looked closer, he noticed the goose bumps that had run down his friend's back. He pressed himself close to him, pulled the blanket over them both, put his arm around him and tried to warm him up. Yufayyur shook himself, woke up, spun around and saw at Ikken with his big dark eyes.
Ikken had now for the first time the opportunity to look at Yufayyur's face in peace, without this being prevented by the gray tugulmust, the mouth cloth, which the latter always wore to protect him from evil spirits.
Yufayyur was really beautiful, he was "More Beautiful Than the Moon" as his name said. He was amazed. Without the thick veil, which only exposed the eyes, Ikken first saw how beautiful he was. Long lashes over the bright, almost black eyes, above them thick eyebrows that almost touched the hairline, thick black hair that reached down to his shoulders. His nose was narrow, very straight, and the fuzz of beard above the soft lips dark as the brows. Ikken now understood why Tarit loved the young Imuhagh almost as he loved Tamimt his favorite wife.
Ikken wondered, was it those eyes why he had liked Yufayyur at first sight, was it his smooth movements, his courtesy, his bravery. He had fallen in love with the son of the desert, three years his senior, more than he had ever fallen in love with any human being before. He was more attracted to Yufayyur than he was even to Hiyya. Now it struck him that he loved her more like a sister. Being sure of this, Ikken bent over Yufayyur and kissed him on the forehead.
Yufayyur smiled back, then turned on his back, "Come here, lie on top of me little King Gaya. Warm me, I'm freezing." Ikken laid down on Yufayyur and hugged him. They merged with each other and began to exchange kisses. When the goosebumps had given way a comforting feeling, Yufayyur asked, "Will you be my brother, little king?" When Ikken nodded, he added, "Together we can conquer the world!"
"What about me?" a bright voice suddenly sounded from the entrance of the tent "Do you want to take my brother away from me or do you want me as a brother too?" "Aylal! Aylal!" Ikken rolled off Yufayyur, "How I missed you! Why didn't you greet us last night, little bird? I looked for you at Tamimt's tent, but you weren't there, not even at her sisters'!"
Yufayyur sat up and smiled at Aylal, "Come here! So, this is what my little brother Aylal looks like! Already almost as tall as my Ikken. And he has his light hair, his blue eyes and his little nose, and his sweet voice. Aylal, I already love you like my brother, come!" He slid to the edge of the bed and made room for Aylal between him and Ikken on the bed. Then he grinned and started tickling the little one "And did my three sisters spoil you little bird? Did they spoil you like they did me when I was little?"
Aylal wondered why Yufayyur was naked under the covers. He turned around and felt for Ikken. He was naked, too. "You both are naked! Do I have to take off my shirt also to be your brother?" Without waiting for an answer, he pulled his shirt over his head.
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In the morning sun, the three of them sat in front of the tent of Yufayyur's mother, the clan elder and wise woman. Yufayyur's mother was the clan elder, not because of her age, but because she led the clan based on her wisdom. They ate lukewarm millet porridge with fingers from a large pan. Only now did Aylal notice that KeYnNamM was not there. "Where is KeYnNamM-baba! Where is Tarit? Tamimt, Lunja and Dihya are already asking about them all the time. Tarit's babies also finally want their baba to hold them!"
"KeYnNamM and Tarit? They are pursuing the remnants of Areksim's army with the border troops. They are chasing the men to the border of the Empire. No one is allowed to stay behind in the desert king's empire. If one of the former soldiers want to stay with us, he must swear eternal allegiance to the Amenokal."
"Did Tarit's men kill many of the enemies?" Aylal asked. As both nodded, "Really?" Aylal looked at his big brother curiously "And you little brother? You vowed never to kill anyone! You did not even kill the mouse that fell in the milk! You certainly didn't kill anyone!" When Ikken blushed and didn't answer immediately, "Or did you? " Embarrassed, Ikken looked to the ground. Immediately, Yufayyur put an arm over his shoulders, "Ikken had to kill! He was brave. He had to defend me and himself. He was brave!" Then Yufayyur proudly told about the encounter with Areksim's soldiers at the Seven Goats Well and concluded the report like this, "He and I were just scouting, we didn't want to kill anyone, but war is war and it's always them or us. We had to defend ourselves or you would never have seen us again!"
"And KeYnNamM-baba? He must have been the bravest! Was he braver than Tarit? Did he defend the kingdom of the desert king well? Did he help Tarit? Quick, quick, I must tell Dihya, Lunja, and Tamimt everything! They are waiting impatiently, especially Tamimt! She told me that she and Tarit will not get married until Tarit returns with Baba! Then there will be a big celebration, a bigger one than tonight." when Ikken looked at him questioningly, he smacked his mouth "I'm not really allowed to tell! It's still a secret, but Tamimt told me. The tribe wants to celebrate your return and that of all the fighters. Big time! As early as tonight, I'm sure." Aylal paused, then added mischievously "Do you want them to celebrate your wedding too, my big brothers?" "What makes you think that?" Yufayyur frowned and shook his head questioningly? "This morning you two were naked and you Ikken were lying on top of Yufayyur, just like I've seen when couples make love! Aaagh! I heard the bed squeak!" Ikken blushed, "So what!" he hesitated, "You don't understand yet, Aylal. How do you even know that, about loving?" Aylal blushed, "But you can't tell on us! What do you think my new friends and I do after dark? We sneak from tent to tent and peek in!" When Ikken looked in amazement at Yufayyur, he laughed, "That's how it is here! I was so curious as a boy also. There's nothing else going on here in the dessert!"
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Later, Aylal showed them to the tents of the three sisters, built in the shade of gnarled acacia trees. In the first, Dihya was nursing her infant son. Ikken's eyes widened as she beckoned him, Aylal and Yufayyur inside. The little prince, as she called him, suckled noisily at her breast and when she put him down briefly to hug her brother Yufayyur and Ikken, he protested loudly. "He's always hungry! I'm sure my prince will be just as strong and brave as Tarit!" she laughed, handing the baby her other breast.
Ikken wondered at her permissive behavior. In the city, no mother would breafeeding her baby in public. He took a closer look and he had to admit, Dihya's breast was beautiful. It was round, firm and full of milk, so full of milk that it ran out of her little son's mouth as he sucked on it.
When Yufayyur was about to start telling about the campaign, she interrupted him, "Wait a moment until my little prince is full, dear brother, then let's go outside and sit down in the shade of the trees. I'm sure Lunja and Tamimt are already waiting there, for they are just as curious as I am."
Both were already waiting in the shade of the trees. They had spread a blanket on the ground. Lunja's little son was sleeping on her arm and Tamimt was passing the time with weaving. When Yufayyur greeted her with a hug, she assailed him with questions. "When are Tarit and the Amestan finally coming back? When can I finally meet the KeYnNamM. I wait and wait, because your second father Tarit has promised that we will have another wedding when KeYnNamM is finally free and we are all together." "Yes, they are coming, dearest sister, Tarit told his friend about your beauty and I bet he fell in love with you before he even got a glimpse of you."
Ikken looked first at Tamimt, then at the other two, "He not only loves you Tamimt, KeYnNamM-baba, our father, loves you Lunja and Dihya just as much. He can't wait to see you ladies!"
Now all three sisters had to laugh and the eldest handed her son to Ikken, "Look how beautiful he is, dark skinned like Tarit. He already has curls like Tarit and otherwise he resembles him too!" and Lunja added, "Who knows, maybe our next sons will be blond like the Amestan." Then she asked Ikken and Aylal to turn once in a circle in front of them, clapping their hands joyfully. "Are you blond and blue-eyed like him? Is he also as handsome as his sons? If so, we are delighted to meet him!"
"But he is our second father, not our real one! He didn't even know our mother. Aylal chose him to be his father!" "No Ikken, you chose him first and now I love him just like you!"
"Little king Gaya, little bird! I know you have loved him since you first saw him! That's why you didn't think twice and saved him when he was in need! You are his real sons!" suddenly said a deep voice behind them. Ikken and Aylal turned around and there she stood, the clan mother, the mother of Dihya, Lunja, Tamimt and Yufayyur, in a white, wide dress, her aleschu, the headscarf, decorated with golden leaves all over and a breast ornament, the chomeissa, made of huge white shells. After her came the other women of the clan, many with small children in their arms, and behind them little girls and boys. They surrounded the Yufayyur and his guest Ikken. At a sign from the clan mother, a slave approached, placed a large tray of tea in front of them on the blanket, and the clan mother sat down with them.
Only now did Ikken notice that the larger boys and the young men had made themselves comfortable in the shade of the trees. The clan mother searched the group and then beckoned the five young men who had taken part in the campaign.
When the murmur of conversation did not immediately subside, the clan mother stood up and with a sweeping gesture commanded the assembled to be quiet. Then she turned to her son, his comrades-in-arms and to Ikken "We thank you my brave son and all your comrades-in-arms! We thank you Ikken, son of King Gaya, who, though so young, spared no battle. Your bravery drove away the enemy, the mercenaries of the empire, who also wanted to subjugate us. You have all returned safe and sound, proving that the sons of the desert can put to flight even the most superior enemy." She spoke this eulogy solemnly and without once drawing breath. Then she paused briefly to make clear to those present the meaning of her words and concluded, "Now speak my sons, tell us all about the battle and the victory!"
Yufayyur beamed and began his account of the campaign. He described the events so vividly that everyone witnessed the fighting. Ikken added to the events from his point of view. For the boy, who had spent most of his life in the city, the encounter with the desert spirit was a special experience. Trembling with excitement, he told how Kel Essuf had awakened them as the dessert storm and of the roses he gave them. Then he bowed deeply to the Great Mother, "To you Wise Mother and to all mothers, a greeting from Kel Essuf, the one who gives good to those who fear him. The roses will bring happiness, health and joy to the clan!"
During midday heat, everyone retreated to the tents, where the draft from the front to the back entrance provided some refreshment. Ikken and Yufayyur, tired from surviving the campaign and the exhausting morning, threw themselves on the low bed and woke up only when the sun sank behind the sand dunes.
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It was neither the sun, nor thirst, nor hunger that wake them out of a deep sleep, but the monotonous beat of a drum that set the rhythm for the stringed instruments. It lured Ikken and Yufayyur to the well of the tent village. There, the members of the small clan had gathered in a semicircle. Mothers with their infants at their breasts squatted on the sandy ground in front of the trees. Toothless old men huddled there, exchanging stories of long ago. Adolescent boys flirted with the younger girls in the hope for a date. The latter played the unapproachable virgins, but protected by the decorated headscarf, the aleshu, they threw promising glances at the teens. The children had stopped their games and listened to the singing and music.
Women played the instruments, led by a white-haired old woman who set the beat with a large drum. The old instrument was made of an old millet mortar, covered with a goat skin, imitating the rhythm of galloping camels. Next to her, two even older women squatted and elicited plaintive sounds from the fiddles strung with only one string. The wailing sounds covered the soft tones of the three-stringed lute, a tahardent, which was struck by a young girl. Above all hovered the uniformly repetitive singing of the other women, occasionally covered by shrill trills and pointed yodels.
At the sight of so many women and girls, Ikken felt lost and sought a hold on Yufayyur's hand in the semi-darkness. After a while he caught sight of the men sitting in the background in a circle around a low fire over which slaughtered goats were turning on spits. However, he did not see the young men, five of whom had participated in the campaign under Yufayyur's leadership, until his friend pulled him into the darkness under the trees. There they had been waiting here impatiently for the two of them. They had dressed up for the celebration and were wearing white, long robes that glowed in the dim light of the fire.
When Yufayyur and Ikken arrived, they had to take the place at the head of the small group. Slowly and with dignity, the group of young men stepped through a gap in the chain of women and formed a circle in front of it, in the middle of which Yufayyur and Ikken had to step.
The rhythmic clapping of the women, which had previously been heard only faintly, swelled, their heavy bangles rattled along to the beat, and a rough voice began to sing. It belonged to a woman who stood like a statue next to the small band. Ikken recognized Yufayyur's mother, the leader of the clan. Ikken did not understand the dialect of the desert sons very well, but from the few words he did understand, he guessed that the clan mother was singing about a hawk that circled above the enemy, a pride of lions. Then the brave bird dared to swoop down on leader of the pride, grabbed onto his head and pecked out his eyes with its sharp beak. After each verse of the song, trills sounded, the fiddles shrilled up, and the lute gave the keynote. He understood, Yufayyur was the hawk.
The young men followed the rhythm of the drum. They circled their leader Yufayyur once lumbering like tired mounts, then again light-footed like young foals, swinging their curved daggers as if they were attacking enemies. While the young men danced around to the left, Yufayyur and Ikken had to move in the opposite direction, that is to the right. At the end of each verse, when the shrill trills rose to the night sky, the dancers began to spin around their own axis. As they did so, their loose shirts fluttered and the shriller the trills sounded, the faster the dancers spun. At the beginning of each new verse, the circle dance began anew, but this time the dancers moved in the opposite direction as in the previous verse.
While the young men danced in a circle, Yufayyur first began stomping rhythmically on the floor. He kicked up the sand with his feet, imitating a galloping horse. The fine sand swirled across the ground like sand in a gale across the desert. Then Yufayyur began to spin around his own axis, switching back to the horse dance toward the end of the verse. In the pauses between stanzas, when the circle dancers were spinning around themselves, Yufayyur hooked into Ikken and they danced slowly in a circle. During the first few verses, Ikken had trouble following Yufayyur's dance steps, but after the third or fourth verse, he moved as easily to the rhythm of the drum as a feather.
When the string instruments stopped briefly after the first dance, the dancers stopped in their tracks, only to continue their dance in a different formation after the music started again. Now the other participants in the campaign against the governor's troops also stepped into the center of the circle, while older men filled the gaps in the circle. As everyone jabbed their daggers at imaginary enemies during the dance, Ikken became nervous; after all, he wanted to see KeYnNamM unharmed again. However, the men had performed the dance so many times that no one was hurt. After the third dance, the outer circle dissolved completely and all the men, old and young, stamped like mounts, kicked up the sand, spun around their own axis like whirlwinds, and bowed to the musicians, the singers, and especially to Yufayyur's mother, the village elder as the last verse faded away.
After the exhausting dance the women began to distribute the roasted meat, brought pita breads, dates and figs, served tea to the women, palm wine to the men and water sweetened with honey to the children. Yufayyur's mother took Ikken at the hand and led him a little apart, handing him a choice piece of meat. "I thank our Creator for giving Yufayyur such a friend. Now I know why I lost all fear after the beginning of the campaign and knew that my son, the future leader of our clan will return unharmed. You are truly the Son of Gaya, when I see you I know that you will bring peace and happiness to the Imuhagh and the people of Draa."
Ikken was so tired that he only half understood the words of the Wise Woman, but he bowed deeply, "Mother?" he asked, "Mother? Can you be my mother too? I already have a new father! It is KeYnNamM, but my mother has been dead so long that I know her only as a dream."
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Authors Note
This is the English version of the story posted in German language with the slightly different title: “KeYNamM”.
In German language KeYNamM stands for Kein-Name that is NAMELESS.
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And I would like to add, thanks for reading.
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