Flames of Fitna (Book 4 of Hanthalah)

Interlude

Six thousand men lounged in the direction of Basra, overlooking a single felt tent in the wide expanse of sand before them.

And beyond, an army even larger, and hostile besides.

'Abdullah and his green-turbaned mentor ibn 'Abbas slunk in the shadow their Khalifa's tent as the sun set on the plains hosting Muslims in their thousands.

They had arrived in this strip of land some days past, venturing forth from one Iraqi city - Kufa, where they had mustered their great host and established a robust base for support - in favor of another. Rebel-held Basra.

"By Allah, I do not wish for the event of Muslim fighting Muslim but there can be no compromise when it comes to the teachings of the Qu'ran and the example of the Prophet," 'Ali, their sovereign, proclaimed. "If they wish to remain headstrong, then I will readily meet them with my sword."

"If it comes to that," ibn 'Abbas began, ringing his fingers together. "It would be best to weaken our opposition. Undermine their leadership."

'Ali raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean, cousin?"

It was young 'Abdullah who answered, eager to impress his mentor.

"You have become estranged from Zubayr, one of the coalition's leaders," he interjected. "Yet, once you were close and the man was a staunch ally of yours. It will not be difficult to dissuade him from the evil course he treads."

Ibn 'Abbas visibly suppressed a smile of pride as all eyes were fixed on their Khalifa, who was pondering the proposition.

Finally, he nodded. "I want ibn 'Abbas in charge of tomorrow's negotiations. Pursue whatever strategy you see fit."

Ibn 'Abbas nodded, preparing to take his leave. But then 'Ali spoke again, the frustration on his face visible.

"By God," he exhaled. "When the people elected Abu Bakr all those years ago, I kept quiet to preserve the peace of the community, even though I was the man entitled to the Caliphate. When 'Umar was selected after him, again I accepted the result, even though I was the man closest to the Prophet and the man with the most knowledge in religious affairs. And when 'Umar convened a council to elect his successor, they chose 'Uthman, and again I kept the peace. And they killed 'Uthman all the same – our opposition definitely had a part to play in it, even if they do not admit to their complacency. Yet, I am contested at every turn and corner."

The tent was bereft of any noise following the outburst for a while as the silence stretched. Only to be disturbed by the hulking partisan of 'Ali with the scar running across his face – Malik al-Ashtar.

He unsheathed his blade and strode forward, raising it in the air.

"I say we burst forward with the sword and lop their heads off!" he rasped. "Negotiation talks will not work with these folk, my brothers. Let us show them the wrath of justice!"

'Abdullah kept his tongue within his mouth, his disenchantment with the pretender to the Caliphate before him rising. From afar, 'Ali may seem to glimmer. But he was not gold. 'Ali may have been the Prophet's closest companion. By God, it may be even argued that the Prophet selected him as successor.

But was he truly the man fit to lead in these circumstances?

Negotiations were futile. How could he not see that? The rebels held no ideology close to heart. Talha, one of the opposition leaders, was the very man that cut the water supply from the besieged 'Uthman during his final days.

'Aisha, the late Prophet's wife, openly called for the man's death, denouncing him as an infidel. How did she hold any credibility with her mere presence here anyway? She had been ordered by God and Prophet to live out the rest of her days in her home. This battlefield did not seem like her home.