Fury is Born (Book 1 of Hanthalah)

Interlude

20 April 628 AD, 10 Dhul Hijjah 6 AH

Ghawth ibn Luhay yanked the reins of his camel forward, clicking his tongue, as the congestion through the choke point in the mountain that led into Makkah eased.

By his side, his cousin Abu Mazen followed suit, leading his own camel laden with goods through the narrow entrance. An entire caravan of dozens of kinsmen hauling camels along would follow close behind.

They were the tribesmen of the Banu Khuza'a. Ghawth puffed his chest with pride at the thought of it. As individuals, they were vulnerable. But as one, united by the bonds of flesh, blood and oath, none would dare encroach upon his people.

They passed through the jammed streets of the living quarters of Makkah first. This is where his ancestors had once dwelled, Ghawth thought to himself dourly.

The Banu Khuza'a were an ancient tribe and could trace their lineage back centuries from the time they were still of Yemen. Through strength of arms, courage, deep piety and their honesty and trustworthy behavior, they rose to become the hegemons of Arabia, occupying the city of Makkah.

But all that had been stripped of them many years ago when the tribe of Quraysh descended upon them and robbed them of all they held dear. It was long before Ghawth had been born, yet he felt a pang of nostalgia for days long past where the Khuza'a were a force to be reckoned with.

Now, they were reduced to disparate clans dispensed in the ravines and valleys near Makkah, divided and individualistic. Meanwhile, the Quraysh enjoyed their status as the foremost tribe of Arabia, the guardians of the great Ka'aba, the wealthiest and most powerful among the Arabs. The status they had conquered from Khuza'a.

Ghawth studied with envy the neat streets, tidied sheds painted with half a dozen colors and adorned with endless creative patterns. There were more houses perched atop the towering black peaks of the mountain in the shadow of which the city was built.

The Khuza'a caravan walked down the hill that led from the relative calm of the Quraysh living quarters to the bustling marketplace. There were cultivated palm trees lining the gentle descent of the hill in orderly columns, dotted with sculptures and idols. Between each column was the path itself, jam-packed with hundreds of other trade caravans hailing from dozens of different Arab tribes.

Ghawth was no stranger to such sights. Though he lived in the calm and tranquility of a valley with his clan not a day's ride from Makkah, he only visited the city to engage in mercantile operations in Makkah's sought-after marketplace. The city was a hub for merchants, religious men or any Arab that wished to abandon any tribal disputes at the entrance of the city in order to perform 'umrah, trade or engage in any number of activities.

There were strict restrictions enforced by the Quraysh upon visitors, mainly to maintain the peace. The Arabs were a notoriously proud people with long memories; they pursued blood feuds and tribal disputes for centuries on end, sparked by the most petty of reasons. Makkah, however, was a safe haven, a place where such petty differences were put aside.

The pathway was bristling with whickering mounts lined in processions similar to that of Ghawth's cousins. Men clicking their tongues or otherwise yelling incoherently, the words lost in the raucous.

But the crowdedness in the pathway was nothing compared to the din of the marketplace itself. The market was always an area bustling with action, but in this particular time of the year, there was barely any room to breathe, let alone space for the camels.

It was the month of Dhul Hijjah; the period between the eighth and thirteenth days of the month that were most holy to the Arabs. It was the time for the hajj, the age-old pilgrimage done in favor to the gods, performed during this time window. The event attracted Arabs from all over the peninsula regardless of their backgrounds or tribal affiliation.