Road to Ubar Pa - Nicholas Clapp [95]
A youth screamed. By the northeast tower a curer was at work. Djinns, like men, were drawn to Ubar; the place was infested with them. They weakened the bones but could be driven away by branding. They soured the blood, requiring that it be drawn with heated cups fashioned from the tips of ibex horns. The king paused and watched as a blindfolded youth bobbed and weaved and pleaded for relief from the djinn tormenting him, stealing his vision.
The curer asked, "Are you djinn?"
The djinn—capable of speaking through the mouth of the possessed—didn't answer. Khuljan interjected, "What would you expect? Of course there's a djinn."
The curer said, "Yes, yes, O Lord," and addressed the youth, "You are surely powerful, djinn. What do you want? Tell us. Tell us. Is it gold you want?"
Speaking through the youth, the djinn answered, "A ring."
The curer turned to a knot of the possessed's companions. A ring was reluctantly offered. The curer dropped it into the coals of a frankincense burner, then snatched it up and slid it onto the youth's finger.
Curer: "Djinn, will you remove the evil from the eye?"
Djinn: "Yes."
Curer: "Djinn, swear that you will remove it."
Djinn (its hold lost, its voice choking): "Eh, eh."
Curer: "Be gone!"
Djinn: no answer.
With a sweep of his dirty, blood-stained robe, the curer turned to the assembled and proclaimed, "It has fled. The djinn has fled." The afflicted pulled off his blindfold and began to wobble away, only to be followed, tapped 011 the shoulder, and reminded, "Gold binds fast the djinn."
Riding on a few paces and dismounting, Khuljan entered Ubar's temple compound. It was as much a house of commerce as a house of the gods. Storerooms and corridors were stacked with sacks of frankincense. Where safer to store it? The temple's garrulous kahin pointed out to the king the measures that belonged to various merchants and those belonging to the temple. Khuljan had the previous year upped the temple's share of the trade from a tenth to a quarter of a caravan's load. The merchants had grumbled and whined, but, as they themselves often said, "The dogs may bark, but the caravan moves on."
We may never know exactly what went on in any temple of ancient Arabia, let alone that of the Ubarites. The identity, nature, and ranking of gods is conflicting and uncertain. It's a mystery which were male and which were female. Temples may have been staffed by regimented orders of priests and priestesses, or they may have been the haunt of soothsayers, even witches.
In Ubar's temple, Khuljan proceeded to a large plastered basin filled with water fresh from the Shisur spring.5 With a ritual ablution, he purified himself, then mounted the stair to the airless dark sanctuary, the holy of holies, where the gods of his people dwelt in squat stone blocks. These may have been roughly squared off and given suggestions of eyes and mouths, or they may have been uncut. The names of the principal deities of the 'Ad have been mythically reported to be the trio of Sada, Hird, and Haba or the quartet of Sada, Salimah, Raziqah, and Hafizun. Whatever their names, Khuljan would have circled them, chanting an invocation, obsequiously addressing them as masters of Ubar, masters of lands remote and near.
Khuljan was wary of his gods. They, like djinns, could inflict mischief and misery if they were angry, so they had to be kept happy. Sometimes public ceremonies were called for, accompanied by the blood sacrifice of goats and sheep. Today it was sufficient to anoint the stones with oil and offer a burner of frankincense.
As gods brought grief, they also brought benefits. Along with their proper names, they were known as "the rain bringer," "the food-giver," "the savioress," and "the healer." Properly flattered, they would grant benefits in exchange for ritual attention. This year they were in Khuljan's debt, for had he not renovated and enlarged their temple?
This day Khuljan