Daggers in the Dark (Book 3 of Hanthalah)

Chapter 11

I lay on my back in bed, breathing heavily, my mind distant. The supple form of a concubine lay motionless at my side.

I'd seen my boy die before my own eyes.

Nothing could erase the memory from my mind. Not all the beer, fights and women in the world.

Hafsa had asked for a divorce me some days after slightly recovering from her shock at the loss, and I was quick to grant it. It is true, I have no luck with women.

But in those days, I was blinded by grief, drinking myself into a stupor. For a moment, on that hill gazing upon the sunset, my son beneath arm - it was euphoria. I felt as though I had the world beneath heel, an invincible man who rides with his sons to bring death and calamity to the enemy and was rewarded with slaves and plunder in return. But instead, it was the enemy that was a hundred steps ahead all along, and my only reward was devastation.

It is no easy thing for a parent to see their child die. For weeks, I wallowed in Mu'awiyah's palace, indulging in forbidden beer and women, becoming the very thing I despised on the Syrian mountain peaks.

I languished in my weakness; years of discipline hammered into me forgotten. If it wasn't for the pits I frequented at night – my primary outlet for the overwhelming grief and self-pity – I would have grown soft and fat.

The very individual I ridiculed as I horded heaps of goods and riches in my tent for months on end.

My mind was racked with slurred thoughts and I succumbed momentarily to darkness before I woke again with a fright. The sun was not yet up. Not even dawn. The candles still burned bright in and about the room.

Yet, a warrior was never truly slumbering. Like a rabid dog, there was a part of me that remained alert at all hours; seeing, sensing, smelling. The girl at my side had barely made a noise in the gloom, but I woke all the same. And with years of studious reflexes on my side, I managed to grab the dagger I subtly hid next to my bed.

But I was safe. I was in Damascus. Inside the Green Palace. Zayn ibn Yazid the monster was nowhere to be seen.

Or was he?

But then the door to my chamber slammed open.

I cursed myself for my negligence. Had I been of my wits, I would have at least heard the footsteps approaching outside and bought enough time for myself to fall into stance. I barely sat up, my vision swimming, my head throbbing, belly hollow, thoughts sluggish.

There was a sound, a man's voice but the words did not filter through my ears. As my vision steadied and my stomach ceased lurching, I was astounded to find Muawiyah standing tall and scowling before me, the very picture of a pathological authoritative figure.

He wore a flowing silk robe of purple embroidered with gold on the sleeves and cuffs, a pattern he was taken with. The sprawling fabric that spilled from the tail of his robe obscured his feet and footwear. By his side was a timid young man, perhaps a scribe. I was reminded of Anas ibn Malik who had enjoyed a similar position under the old Khalifa 'Umar, and had been a companion of mine in Madinah.

"I do not enjoy repeating myself, ibn Ka'b," I managed to strain in order to listen to Mu'awiyah's harsh voice. His scowl deepened when I only gaped at him blankly. "Get your arse off that bed and do your duty before I have the skin whipped off your back. I've arranged for your belongings be packed in your saddle bags. You leave for your mountain at the break of light. Only after I have you whipped for drinking."

He paused, leveling me with a glare of contempt.

"Abu al-A'war plans on raiding Rhodes in some weeks. He has expressed need for more ships and a greater number of men. I will be supplying him with both. There is a Ghassanid tribe some miles south of Damascus. Their chieftain is rumored to have apostatized – reverted back to idol worship. You and ibn Qays are tasked with uncovering the truth of this rumor with discretion; if proven true, the successful general must use force to restore order and the rule of Islam. That general will be rewarded by joining Abu al-A'war in his expedition."