Shadow of Death (Book 2 of Hanthalah)

Interlude

May 625 AD, Rabi' al-Awwal 4 AH

11-12 years ago

"Take cover, child," her father's servant, Ayman whispered as the leaves rustled softly. "Take cover."

Sumayya bint Huyayy shivered, crouching next to Ayman, clutching her coat closer to chest against cold and fear.

Hundreds of fires crackled before them under a star-spangled night sky, and the landscape at the foot of the besieged Banu Nadir fortress was bristling with pacing or reclining men in iron or leather.

A gust of wind carried over the putrid stench of a thousand men, prompting Sumayya to wrinkle her nose in disgust. She scampered away, trying to keep up with Ayman, who was on the move again.

"Here, child," the servant gently whispered, rising to his feet, out of the bushes and into a street. The occupants of these houses were either fast asleep at this hour or besieging one of the many Nadir fortresses elsewhere in the city. Only one of them spilled torchlight out into the deserted street that Ayman and Sumayya skidded through.

Another gust of wind washed over her, and she winced. Her gown was in tatters, revealing generous parts of her body. Torn by that vicious monster from Qurayza, the oaf with the moustaches. God only knew what he was about to do with her if her pretty boy hadn't intervened.

He was all that lent her strength as she rushed across the street at Ayman's heels, making for the torchlit shed. His lovely, innocent face, his gentle eyes. His tumbling dark curls. He had saved her from one man. But not the other.

Sumayya remembered what life had been like prior to her flowering. When she had been little more than a child. Sure, Father had toyed with the prospect of arranged marriage then, but it was little more than that. A prospect. It hadn't been real to Sumayya then.

But now she was a woman grown. Three and ten. Men lurked about in every corner as though beasts with an insatiable appetite, each one of them seeking to procure a bite.

Her father wished for her a decent candidate for marriage. Someone gentle and God-fearing that would not mistreat her. He had even taken her opinion on suitors in the early days and turned them down when she expressed her dislike.

But Father had little choice when none other than the chieftain of Banu Aws came knocking. Sa'ad ibn Mu'adh was already a man wed, with three other women and twice as many concubines. Father and Sa'ad had once been friends, as close as two men entwined in mutual politics can be. But all had changed when the Muslims had been welcomed into the city. Father feared suffering the same fate as the Qaynuqa' should he refuse the proposal.

Little did he know it mattered not. And it cost him his life, and potentially Sumayya's own.

"Good lord, Abu Salim!" Ayman exclaimed as the door creaked open. "Thank God!"

Ayman draped his arms around Abu Salim's shoulders, sobbing softly into his chest, and the two men embraced for a good long while, Ayman shaking in grief.

"They're taking everything, Abu Salim," Ayman lamented. "Nay, they have taken everything."

Sumayya raised an eyebrow as Abu Salim wove his fingers through Ayman's short hair. "Everything will be fine, my love. I am here to help."

As though they had just noticed Sumayya existed, Ayman jolted upright, yanking himself from Abu Salim's embrace. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, shuffling from one foot to the other.

"Sumayya, this is Abu Salim al-Awsi," he introduced his...friend. "He is a man of the Aws who yet harbors love for his allies."

Sumayya nodded in greeting, suppressing a smile that threatened to surface despite her misery.