Daggers in the Dark (Book 3 of Hanthalah)

Interlude

Negotiations proved to be essentially fruitless.

'Abdullah did not venture into the mosque himself to speak with 'Uthman. That was mainly left to the more senior protestors from the cities of Kufa and Basra. But it seemed that 'Uthman refused to add substance to their concerns, preferring rather to defend his policies rather than retract.

Their movement was losing momentum. It was time to call it and return whence they came.

Another day, perhaps, 'Abdullah thought, turning from the foreboding gate of the Khalifa's home.

To find the Egyptians racing down the street with a vengeance to their step.

Attempting to suppress the sense of elation rising within him at the sight of the returning protestors that threatened to reveal a beaming ear-to-ear grin on his face, 'Abdullah stepped toward them.

"My brothers," he greeted them. "What is the matter, by God?"

He raised the Book higher for them to see. As to exacerbate their zeal.

It seemed to ignite them further. Their increasingly red faces threatened to consume 'Abdullah with delight, even though they ignored his inquiry.

They marched straight for the gate.

"Marwan!" boomed the man 'Abdullah identified as the son of Abu Bakr. He held up a piece of parchment. "What is this?"

Marwan ibn al-Hakam, a senior member of the administration and a member of the Umayyad clan rumored to be the true power behind the Khalifa, bristled at the gate. The grandsons of the Prophet stiffened as well, placing their hands on their hilts again, ready to defend their corrupt suzerain.

"It is a piece of parchment," Marwan replied.

"It is a letter from the Khalifa addressing the governor of Egypt, the son of Abu Sarh," the large man corrected him. He traced a hand to the clay seal at the bottom of the letter. "Is this not 'Uthman's ring?"

Official documents were usually legitimized by the seal at the bottom of the piece. Each official had his own distinct ring that he would press against the clay, marking his own unique signature.

"It is," Marwan admitted.

Another burst from the crowd, furious as the rest, a young man held out by the cuff of his collar.

"And is this 'Uthman's slave?" Abu Bakr demanded again.

"He is," Marwan answered after a long pause.

"Then, the order comes from the Khalifa?" the enraged protestors further interrogated him.

"We sent no such letter to the son of Abu Sarh," Marwan answered. "What does the letter say?"

"The contents of the letter instruct the governor to slaughter us once we return to Egypt!" the son of Abu Bakr bellowed, sending waves of returning Egyptians as well as the once-disheartened troops of Kufa and Basra into uproar.

'Abdullah's heart heaved in his chest as he stepped forward, capitalizing on his sweet fortune. He raised the Book high overhead.

"My Muslims brothers," he roared, attracting the attention of the reuniting protestors. He shook the Book. "If you believe in this. If you believe in its author. Besiege the house of 'Uthman!"

***

Ruqayya toyed with the replica ring with her fingers as she lounged on her couch.

She mused how remarkably easy it was to exploit men's underestimation of her on account of her sex. All she needed was the sale of precisely one slave, who admittedly owed loyalty to her, to the right buyer.