Shadow of Death (Book 2 of Hanthalah)

Interlude

August 632 AD, Jumada al-Thani 11 AH

4 years ago

'Amr ibn Sallam braced himself in the house of the Prophet's daughter, half-crouched, sword drawn. He flinched as he heard the crackling of torchlight beyond the shut door and the grating of steel on leather or wood, as a dozen swords were unsheathed in unison.

"Fatimah!" 'Umar ibn al-Khattab's deep-throated bellow was just as vibrant and frightening with a door and four walls blocking the sight of him. "Daughter of the Messenger of Allah!"

Zubayr ibn al-'Awwam shuffled to the door warily, sword in hand, his distinct yellow turban perched atop his head. 'Ali ibn Abu Taleb and his wife, Fatimah bint Muhammad, were huddled in the corner of the chamber. A number of other men gripped the hilts of their swords, scattered across the shed.

They were the Shi'a of 'Ali – the partisans of 'Ali. It had been months since the false Khalifa Abu Bakr had been elected in a conspiracy that alienated the bulk of the Muslim ummah.

"By Allah, there was no one dearer to us than your father, and there stands none dearer to us after your father than you," 'Umar boomed again.

Abu Bakr and 'Umar knew that 'Ali was the favored candidate for the succession of the Prophet, so they conspired against the true will of the ummah, thought 'Amr, eying the door warily.

'Amr knew that 'Ali was the intended successor, the sole man fit to lead the nation of Islam. After all, the Prophet himself had named him so at Ghadeer Khumm prior to his death. 'Ali was the closest of the Prophet's kin, since the latter had no surviving sons and no siblings. 'Ali had always been the closest of the Prophet's confidants, and the most favored. He had been one of the first to embrace Islam as a religion. He was ten when he converted!

"I know your husband and his supporters frequent your home," it seemed 'Umar did know they were inside.

They're jealous of him, 'Amr thought, grinding his teeth in irritation. 'Umar and Abu Bakr were old men, with more years to their lives than the younger 'Ali. Yet, the latter had boasted of more accomplishments than either man! Despite his young age, he was foremost among the ummah in humility, piety and knowledge of the word of God.

'Ali almost single-handedly won the Muslims the Battle of Badr. And again at the Trench, when he had slain the infidel ibn 'Abd al-Wudd.

And yet again at Khaybar! 'Ali cut down Marhab ibn al-Harith and breached the fort that 'Umar and Abu Bakr themselves had failed to conquer time and again.

"If they conspire again within it, I will order my men to burn it to the ground."

Fatimah stepped forward, hands on her belly swollen with child. 'Ali fretted at her, trying to restrain her, but she moved to the door all the same.

The Shi'a of 'Ali will never give bay'ah to a false ruler. 'Ali was the Prophet's designated successor. Any who did not recognize that held doubts over their religion! The election of Abu Bakr was an improper bay'ah. There were some who did not call themselves supporters of 'Ali who did not recognize it either.

There was Bilal the Abyssinian, for instance. He rejected the hasty manner it was conducted and refused to give Abu Bakr his bay'ah – his vote, for paying homage to recognize him as the commander of all believers.

"You forsake the kin of the Prophet so quickly," Fatimah accusation rang sharp in the shed. She doubled over in pain, the fetus no doubt troubling her. A brave and admirable woman, thought 'Amr, as would befit the daughter of a prophet. "First you take away from me my inheritance, and now you threaten to burn my house down."

The Prophet had entrusted the taxes and produce from the conquered lands of Khaybar and Fadak to his daughter, his only surviving child – Fatimah. The wretched new men in power, however, robbed her of her rightful land, instead taking the revenue for themselves.

"The lands belong to the Khalifa, and it is the Khalifa's responsibility to distribute as he wishes, among those he wishes!" 'Umar boomed again. 'Amr flinched at the sharpness of his tone. "When I come back, your husband and his men better have made up their minds."

There was the shuffling of sandals outside and the faint chink of iron. 'Umar and his men must have been retreating.

'Amr relaxed and his shoulders slumped, as the other Shi'a in the shed followed suit. 'Ali was fretting over Fatimah again.

"You should," Fatimah whispered at her husband gently. "Do it."

'Amr could not make out 'Ali's hushed words as he embraced her, still speaking softly.

He threatened to burn the house down, 'Amr thought. They robbed 'Ali of his inheritance, and Fatimah of hers.

And they called themselves Muslims. And they dared demand of them their bay'ah.

Never.