Interlude

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June 656 AD - Dhul Hijjah 35 AH

'Abdullah clutched the Book tighter, holding it closer to chest. He stepped away from his camel, and reveled in how two younger boys rushed to grab the reins and tend to the mount.

'Abdullah was aware of the respected image he was cultivating in the tightly knit community of Kufa, also known as al-Hirah. A new bastion of Islamic faith in 'Iraq. What he lacked in years, he more than made up for in piety and religious fervor. He found that, though his body was frail and prone to disease and scabs, the expression of his thoughts flowed freely from his mouth. The words just came naturally.

Over the past few months, he honed this ability of his. Mightier than the sword, more permanent in its etching than the quill. He learned more and more the art of oration, of swaying the crowd by tapping into their own concerns and beliefs, even if they did not match 'Abdullah's own. As long as those before him could be moved to perform the required objective, they would both earn what they desire at the end of the day.

And that's how they found themselves on the outskirts of the holy city itself.

Madinah. Seat of the Khalifa – Commander of the Believers.

'Abdullah took note of a crowd gathering before a small hut standing lone and isolated on the plains where they set up camp some miles east of the city. The area was barren, desolate. As though in exile. As though outcast.

"You would not believe the corruption in Damascus and Madinah alike, brothers," 'Abdullah heard the dismayed tone in an old man's voice. He pushed through the crowd, finding the center of attention being a hunched over greybeard, as slight of body as 'Abdullah himself. "The Ansar's own city, where the Prophet took shelter. Where prayers and peace be upon him, he is buried within the great mosque."

"Be calm, Abu Dharr," Malik al-Ashtar said. He was a massive man with a scar running down one eye to the other side of his jaw. "Speak to us of your misfortune in detail."

"The Khalifa has fallen into a pit of nepotism," old man Abu Dharr, recognized by 'Abdullah as one of the Prophet's most respected companions, elaborated. "Exploited by his kin of Umayya. When in Madinah, I saw the treasury depleted by 'Uthman himself to fill the pockets of his kinsmen. Overseen by that wicked man – that Marwan ibn al-Hakam. He went so far as to distribute the khums money among his own."

That earned a positively theatrical gasp off the crowd. Khums was a tax incurred off the Muslim populace. It was a fifth of one's own income paid to the Khalifa in order to be distributed to those in need – orphans and beggars and wandering travelers and the like.

The abuse of such a holy tax was one that set 'Abdullah's chest alight with rage.

"Then, I was sent to Damascus, the dominion of one Mu'awiyah ibn Abu Sufyan, after my admonition of the abuse in Madinah," Abu Dharr continued. "If only you could believe me, my brothers, in saying that what I witnessed in Syria was far more atrocious than that in the holy city. The governor Mu'awiyah lives no worse than the Caesar of the Romans in Constantinople. His palace – yes, he resides in a palace – is overflowing with more riches than what was found in the Persian Shah's homeland. Fortunes in silver and gold wasted on excess and luxury, to build lavishly and without a care for those without food or homes."

"Oyou who have believed, indeed many of the scholars and the monks devour the wealthof people unjustly and avert them from the way of Allah," 'Abdullahimmediately quoted the relevant words of God. The chapter of al-Tawbah."And those who hoard gold and silver and spend it not in the way of Allah -give them tidings of a painful punishment."Amoment of silence swept over the gathered crowd as they lowered their heads inreverence at the Qu'ranic passage.

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