Fury is Born (Book 1 of Hanthalah)

Interlude

Mu'adh ibn 'Amr held his breath and clutched his sword close to his chest. He closed his eyes and whispered a prayer to Allah, steadying his ragged breath. He heard the footsteps of nearby polytheists and their stifled whispers.

He was hiding in a narrow crack in the surface of the mountain. His body shook despite himself. He was in shock, imbued with terror despite his attempts to find solace in his faith in God.

But how can one stay calm and collected seeing his friends and kin cut down before his eyes?

How can one stay composed when Allah's Apostle lay dead at the foot of the mountain for all he knew.

Mu'adh did not know if the rumor was true. All he knew was that men were shouting of the death of the Prophet as well as that of Hamza, the Lion of Allah. Once those around him heard the news, they broke and ran, seeking succor in the towering heights to their backs.

Mu'adh had barely fled the field of battle. He limped up the slope, parrying blows and evading pursuers all the while. He felt warm blood trickling down his thigh from his wound. It was a deep gash. He bit his lip and suppressed a cry of agony. To make the slightest of sounds was to die.

"There is no god but you," Mu'adh mouthed the prayer. "Glory be unto you. For I have been of the wrongdoers."

He repeated the prayer over and over. It was one of salvation. It was one used to seek protection from Allah when one was in great peril. It was the prayer the Prophet Younes repeated thousands of times during the time he spent in the whale's belly. He spent months inside that whale, yet his faith never wavered. Prophet Younes, peace be upon him, acknowledged his mistake in abandoning his tribe who would not heed his words nor listen to his divine message. And he sought forgiveness from Allah all those months in pitch darkness, never despairing, never forsaking faith.

And Allah came through.

The Most Merciful ordered the whale to belch and free Younes from his prison. Do not forsake Allah, and He will not forsake you.

"There is no god but you. Glory be unto you. For I have been of the wrongdoers."

Mu'adh shivered vigorously, though it was not from fear. His skin felt clammy and his body was slick with sweat. The world was spinning. He felt light-headed. He knew he was losing blood.

"There is no god but you. Glory be unto you. For I have been of the wrongdoers."

Abu Sufyan prowled the heights of Uhud, searching every nook and cranny for any fugitives. He overturned a boulder, searched through clusters of trees. And found nothing. The Muslims evaded him.

It made no matter.

His purpose for dispatching this great army was to pursue the blood feud. It was to regain face after the calamity at Badr. Quraysh had lost good men. They had lost chieftains.

But the latter bothered Abu Sufyan but little. In truth, the Muslims had done him a favor in slaying Abu al-Hakam and the other chieftains. It opened a door of unprecedented respect for Abu Sufyan and his clan, Banu Umayya. Men in Quraysh now sought wisdom and leadership from Abu Sufyan. He was the wealthiest among them now, and the most powerful. It was up to him to avenge his fallen tribesmen.

And it was a resounding success, he mused, carefully watching his step as he searched for those who fled. Though he did not believe the rumors of Muhammad's death, he saw Hamza being cut down by that savage slave. He knew there was no way Mos'ab ibn 'Umair would have survived the cavalry charge on the hill.

They would not march on to Yathrib, he resolved. He did not share Abu al-Hakam's zeal. The man the Muslims had called Abu Jahl, the Father of Ignorance, sought to raze the city to the ground and put to the sword every man inside. Enslave every woman and child, be they of Quraysh or Yathribi tribe.

Abu Sufyan knew that this matter would best be resolved by use of restraint, however. He was glad his rival had been removed at Badr, and Abu Sufyan's hands were clean of his demise. His word was law now.

Sending a message to this Muhammad and his band of heretics was enough.

One does not simply step into the lion's den and expect to emerge unscathed.