Seven Veils of Seth by Ibrahim Al-Koni

realized, however, that what passersby observed in women’s eyes that day was not curiosity, thirst for information, or fear of the unknown – which are normally associated with the news of any scourge – but a feeling greater than all of these. Their eyes had an expression of certainty presaging calamity; for the scourge this time not only threatened the women but constituted a conspiracy that threatened to deprive the oasis of offspring – perhaps even the whole desert. The women’s calamity, however, did not silence him, for he continued to shout the announcement: “Today, oasis dwellers, an affliction has settled on our homes; a malady has afflicted women’s bellies. So perform sacrificial offerings and try to stay calm until the matter is clarified and the affliction’s cause is discovered. Those present are duty-bound to inform those absent.”
    Boys joined him as he made his rounds. They kept him company, with one line racing along to his right and a second one on his left. Some would fall away whenever he exceeded their range, but others would join each time the procession reached a new settlement. Elders were scattered at the entryways of huts and mud-brick houses, standing there like silent specters or statues; they did not budge till the company had passed by and disappeared from sight in a grove of trees or behind the top of some hills.
    Only the visitor to the oasis sequestered himself that morning on the flank of the hill. He watched the procession from the time it left the press of northern houses and traversed the shacks scattered along the plain that led to the dwellings surrounding the market square and circling the hill to the north and east. He did not cease watching until it turned to slip down the narrow alleys where dwellings clung to each other and the houses shared walls, as if protecting each other from an unknown danger.
    The public affairs announcement reached his ears too, booming loud enough at times for him to make out clearly every word and then fading into the distance where, in the stillness of the open country, it seemed the buzz of a fly. Even though insolent laughter rattled in his throat from the moment the tour began and the proclamation first rang out, more than once he choked on a tear in response to the tragic ring of the call, which sounded like a lament to him, perhaps because he heard only tragedy in the announcement and could decipher in it only a mourner’s admonition whenever it resounded through the tribes’ settlements. Were creatures destined to hear from the herald’s mouth nothing but an elegy whenever a proclamation rang out in the tribes’ lands? Were creatures destined to hear nothing more than a lament from the mouth of the herald? Are glad tidings a voiceless, shameful secret that slips into these lands covertly and diffidently and flees clandestinely from these territories too, as shamefacedly as it arrives?

3 The Omen
    He nearly choked on his disquieting laughter once more, because he resembled the ancients’ legendary jackal, which only grinned when hungry, since it realized that hunger is inevitably followed by satiety, and only wept when satisfied, realizing full well that hunger inevitably follows a good meal. He likewise would laugh till his throat rattled when sad, because he knew better than anyone else that sorrow always ends with joy, and would weep through joyful events, since he knew that joy ends with sorrow.
    He swallowed his laughter and descended the hillside to meet – at the bottom of the hill – the chief merchant, who was upset. His anxiety was apparent in his eyes, and his veil, which was pulled back from his mouth, revealed the deep scar of an ancient wound that had marked his left cheek, crossing his upper lip.
    He brought the merchant up short with the question: “Has some evil befallen you?”
    He glanced up at the stranger absentmindedly before responding: “What is