The Theocrat: A Modern Arabic Novel (Modern Arabic Literature) (18 page)

“God be praised!” he yelled. “Here’s news to warm my heart and relieve me of the anxieties that have beset me for the last few days.”

“You’re right, Abu Rakwa,” agreed Abu al-Mahasin. “Like every army, ours is meant to fight; it’ll only fight to win victories and gain booty. Now we must make it ready to plunge into the very conflict it was meant for. In that cause may God assist us!”

“Thus far,” Shihab al-Din commented with determination, “our army has only had to combat boredom and undertake minor tasks. Till our forces can score a genuine triumph against a strong army such as the one now facing us, we’ll never be content.”

Abu Rakwa stood up. “So we’re all agreed then,” he said. “There’s no need for more talk. Go to our people and muster them and our allies for battle. Tell them to fill in the wells and to be prepared to make flanking movements and conduct a series of rapid assaults. And make sure neither of you comes to see me on important business without bringing along one or two Zanati shaykhs as well.”

Barely an hour passed after their receiving this command before Abu al-Mahasin was back again with two Zanati shaykhs.

“Imam,” he said, “everything is in excellent order. Preparations are complete, and infantry and cavalry are lined up in rows. Now all we’re waiting for is your order to begin. We all beseech you not to take part in this battle in case something terrible should happen and we should lose you!”

“Woe to you all! Have you gone mad? Are you all unanimous about something that is not at all what I would wish? Don’t you all realize that someone who stays at the back cannot be an imam? Have you forgotten that the lives of all of us are in God’s hands?”

Abu al-Mahasin tried to calm the imam down. “We’re unanimous, Abu Rakwa. We’re still at the very beginning of our long road to Egypt. There’s no harm in your agreeing to these terms. We’ve agreed to it because the Zanatis have given us a good reason. They’ve charged these two shaykhs to tell you about it. Now I’ll leave you with them. God willing, I shall return with news of victory.”

Barely had Abu al-Mahasin left before Abu Rakwa approached the two shaykhs with a smile. “So, Hammu,” he said amiably, “what’s this all about? And you, Yahya? All’s well, is it not?”

“Yes indeed, imam,” replied Yahya somewhat awkwardly. “What we want to tell you is that we Zanatis are particularly concerned about your safety and welfare. You represent the source and guarantor of our union with the Banu Qurra. What made us even more anxious is our fear that a
tribal secret of ours might be uncovered, something without which we would never have been able te resist our foes in the past.…”

“What secret are you talking about?” Abu Rakwa interrupted in amazement. “Are you taking things back to the old days of diffidence and mistrust?”

“Abu Rakwa,” Hammu explained, “we have a unique knowledge of surface and sub-surface water resources in the Barqa region. When it comes to keeping such resources hidden, we have methods that are still unknown to others. It’s these methods that we want to use today in the desert area between us and Dhat al-Hammam; that way we can make the enemy feel incredibly thirsty before the fighting even starts. Even so, we beg you to preserve your own life for these tribes that you have managed to unite in purpose and served as both witness and trustee of that very purpose.”

Abu Rakwa rubbed his hands together in resignation. “People worry that I’m going to be killed by a stray arrow, whereas I might well die in my own bed by order of Him who controls all souls. But what can I do when everyone’s agreed that I should stay away from the fighting’.’ Let every warrior do his utmost. I’ll be standing on the bluffs overlooking the desert and watching the battle from close by. I will be watching with pounding heart, as I look forward to a glorious victory brought by you and God Himself.”

So Abu Rakwa stayed in his tent. He sat there on his rug, calming his worries with fervent prayers to his Lord, beseeching Him that little of the warriors’ blood be shed and that large numbers of enemy be captured. However, soon afterward he was escorted by a squad of guards to a hill overlooking the battlefield; there he stayed pacing back and forth. His head kept throbbing as he watched the armies pound each other in a maelstrom of noise and fire. The only way he managed to calm himself somewhat was by focusing his attention on his own troops as they outshone each other in felling enemy forces. Some of them were breaching enemy ranks and encircling them, while others peppered them with weapons from secure positions; still others led them toward water which was a mere mirage and then easily took them captive.

As Abu Rakwa watched the ever changing scene, Shihab al Din, Yahya, and Hammu rode up with the tremendous news that their warriors had decisively defeated al-Hakim’s forces. They had also cut off their lines of retreat so that only a few had managed to escape.

“We made them feel the bitter taste of thirst,” said Hammu enthusiastically, “something they’ll never experience again till the day they’re sent to hellfire. When we came at them with our swords, their tongues were as parched as the very desert sands, dangling from their mouths as they tried to lick up their own sweat.”

“God forgive you!” Abu Rakwa commented by way of reproof. “Tell me instead that you’ve fought with honor. The Zanata fought bravely, didn’t they, Shihab al-Din?”

“Most certainly, Abu Rakwa,” Shihab al-Din replied, realizing the imam’s import. “The same applies to all our warriors to whom God Almighty has given a clear victory. There is a great deal of booty. Competent men are now assessing amounts and preparing to distribute it. The enemy lost a thousand dead and wounded, and there are more than two thousand prisoners, including Yanal the Tall, the Turkish commander.”

“Yanal the Tall?” Abu Rakwa asked. “How many Yanals do they have? Isn’t he the one we killed before entering Barqa in triumph?”

“The Yanal who had the singular honor of being killed at your hand were merely a poor soldier. He managed to fool us by adopting the guise of the real Yanal so that the latter could escape, and—God curse him—he succeeded.”

“We’ll deal with that after you’ve told me how many dead and wounded there are on our side.”

For just a moment Shihab al-Din frowned, but then he noticed Abu Rakwa’s anger rising.

“Just a few,” he said, “a hundred and twenty warriors, all of whom are guaranteed a place in paradise. Fifty-one wounded, among them …”

“Who?”

“Abu al-Mahasin, Imam. He was treacherously struck from behind. He’s lying on his bed being tended by the very best doctors.”

“Your mercy, O God! Take me to him at once, then go and issue properly treated.”

Abu Rakwa rushed after the three men as they made their way toward Abu al-M alias in “s quarters. When he reached the door of the tent, the chief doctor told him that Abu al-Mahasin’s condition was very grave. “We’ve done everything we can to stop the bleeding,” he told the imam. “Ask for God’s mercy on him, Abu Rakwa!” Abu Rakwa told everyone to go about their business, then sat down alongside Abu al-Mahasin. He placed one hand on his forehead and the other on his chest.

“This isn’t the time for us to say farewell, Abu al-Mahasin,” he said, stifling his tears. “We still need you badly for the decisive battle.”

“God forgive you, Abu Rakwa,” interrupted Abu al-Mahasin. “Aren’t you the one who said that our lives are in God’s hands?”

“I ask His forgiveness, the best of guarantors. You are right, O noble Muslim. Forgive my fear of losing you, you who are such a stalwart supporter of our cause and give us the benefit of your sage opinions.”

“I praise God for granting us this victory and for making me one of the first martyrs in our cause. I have only ever wanted to fulfill the Prophet’s wishes, to fight in the cause of God; to fight, then live, then fight again and live again. I am destined to die, and your consolation must be with Shihab al-Din once you have tamed his impetuous nature, with the Zanata, the Banu Qurra, and others who will join the cause. Surround yourself with such folk and relish their sense of unity and fraternity. You are bound to achieve your goal and bequeath to future generations the best of what is past. To God we belong and to Him do we return.”

After Abu al-Mahasin had said those words, he recited the statement of faith. The two men then embraced, and with one last gasp Abu al-Mahasin was gone. For a moment Abu Rakwa stood there with tears flowing, then with bloodshot eyes he left to greet people outside. “Get some people to help you bury our dead warriors as they are,” he told Yahya. “Others should wash the body of Abu al-Mahasin and his dead comrades. God willing, we will say prayers over them.”

Following Abu al-Mahasin’s death a day or two passed. Abu Rakwa chose to stay in his tent, receiving numerous reports from his assistants. Once in a while he went out to confirm bits of information that he kept hearing about the good mood of not merely people in general but particularly his warriors; they were bursting with enthusiasm and champing at the bit for the major confrontation to come. They kept asking him over and over again about this battle, but he would always reply, “Finding patience among all of you is rarer than a mosquito’s brain! As long as you insist on adopting a weak position, you’ll never even get a date from a crow.”

“And what exactly is that weak position, God preserve you?” they asked.

“Excessive haste,” was the reply.

With that they left him alone and went on their way. “Our imam certainly knows the way things are!” they told each other by way of explanation.

In the ensuing months events piled up on one another. Abu Rakwa was not used to the pace. Every month brought with it new situations. These he pondered carefully, using them as inspiration for a whole series of recorded thoughts. One Ramadan night in
A.H.
396 he was engrossed in his reading and note-taking, when a heavily armed man managed to sneak his way into his tent. He greeted the imam and sat down close by.

“Forgive me. Imam,” he said, “for visiting you in this way. When you hear why I’ve come, I hope you’ll forgive my intrusion.”

Abu Rakwa was not in the slightest bit afraid. “I trust it’s good news, young man,” he said. “But tell me first who you are and where you’re from.”

“I am ‘Ali ibn Husayn ibn Jawhar from Sicily.”

“Are you the son of al-Hakim’s chief general?”

“Yes, I am indeed, Abu Rakwa,” the young man replied, “and I am here as his emissary to you. I didn’t march to Barqa. However, I was actually there ahead of you, looking after my father’s interests and pretending to serve al-Hakim as commander of its garrison. When you
entered the city victorious with your army, I hid for a few days in an underground grainstore. That gave me time to think about my and plan an escape. The day I disguised myself as a beggar and got out, I vowed to assassinate you and then escape back to Cairo.”

“How could you do that when there’s so much hatred between al-Hakim and your father? in whose interest would you be committing such a dastardly deed?”

“If I’d done any such thing—heaven forbid!—it wouldn’t have been to curry favor with al-Hakim. I loathe him just as much as everyone does. The reason would have been to eliminate all the doubts and rumors being put about by al-Hakim’s spies to the effect that my father is secretly in league with you and encouraging you to enter Egypt.”

“So what prevented you from carrying out your foul deed?”

“It was that sermon you gave. Imam! Your words hit me fresh and true; they convinced me that you are indeed the true religious leader and guide. When you finished, I left the mosque still in disguise. I was cursing myself. To kill you, I told myself, would be akin to murdering righteous people—something that is totally forbidden. I took a horse from one of my former aides and rode to the site near Cairo where my father was encamped so I could tell him about your virtuous deeds. Now here I am back again with a letter from my father, along with an attestation from his son-in-law, ‘Abd al-‘Aziz ibn Nu‘man, the chief judge. In the letter he salutes you and urges you to conquer Egypt and overthrow the tyrannical rule of al-Hakim. He promises you the support of the Sicilians and Kutamis and all other soldiers under his command.”

Abu Rakwa took the letter from his visitor and studied it carefully. “It’s late at night,” he said, “and you look very tired. Leave me with your father’s letter and choose a room for yourself to get some sleep, Tomorrow, God willing, you will attend a meeting with our warrior leaders to prepare for the conquest of Egypt. Now, ‘Ali, go in peace.”

“As you command, Abu Rakwa. Tomorrow I’ll await your command to attend the planning meeting that augurs a great future.”

The visitor left as surreptitiously as he had come in. Abu Rakwa. started to read Ibn Jawhar’s letter. Then he snuffed out the candle and went to sleep.

Early next morning (a Thursday), Abu Rakwa learned that the imprisoned commander, Yanal the Tall, had been killed by Shihab al-Din after a bitter argument. The imam immediately thought of summoning Shihab al-Din and severely reprimanding him for his action, but he decided against it. With the cause of unity and the imminence of a decisive battle in mind, he stifled his anger. However, while he was still pondering the whole matter, Shihab al-Din entered his tent, nervous and red-faced, and greeted the imam.

“No doubt you’ve heard about what happened early this morning,” he said. “My excuse for what I did to Yanal the accursed is that he would get away from us again and become another Hamad al-Madi, a thorn in our sides and a barrier to our forward advance. All I meant to do was to hobble him, but he insulted your status as imam, then spat at me twice in the face, saying: “One for you, and the other for your phony imam.” The insult was too much, and I lost my temper. I gave him a sword. For a while we parried, but then I managed to impale him in the stomach and split his head in twain. He fell to the ground drowning in his own foul blood.”

“Hamad al-Madi certainly is a thorn in our flesh,” said Abu Rakwa, trying to calm things down. “You’re right about that, Have you any idea how to crush this thorn?”

“By making sure we don’t delay our advance.”