Writer: Brig Fouad Hafeez

Issue: B&T Winter 19

Jonah’s Search

For the next three days, while the Muslims were busy rejoicing over their momentous victory in the capture of Damascus, one man was engaged in a search for the most important thing of his life. Frantically, Jonah searched through the streets and alleys of Damascus, hoping to catch a glimpse of his beloved amongst the free-people and slaves alike. This was not to be, though; she was nowhere to be found. Disconsolate and distraught, he continued his search for her, until he stumbled upon a person who told him what had befallen her. During the three-day period of amnesty that the Muslims had given to anyone who wished to leave, she and her family had abandoned Damascus. At this very moment --- along with Thomas and his retinue --- she was probably fleeing as far from where Jonah was currently standing, as she possibly could.

The news both lifted Jonah’s spirits and dashed them harder onto the rocks of despair. So near…yet so far. Alive and well…but so far from sight and touch.

It was probably this very combined state of elation and anguish, that brought Jonah to Khalid’s tent once again; where he questioned the commander of the Muslim army as to why he hadn’t set out in hot-pursuit of Thomas, yet. Khalid must have smiled as he listened to Jonah; thinking to himself that love makes a man ask questions and demand answers, that he might never, ordinarily. Jonah voiced the question again. And again. The last time, accompanied by protestations and declarations, of being the best guide to lead Khalid against the withdrawing forces of Thomas; that were now fair targets, given that three days had elapsed since the announcement of the truce.

A gleam probably lit up Khalid’s eyes, as a plan began to take root in his brilliant soldiering brain. He gave orders to the Mobile Guard to be ready to march.

The Chase

By now, the Mobile Guard that Khalid had been slowly developing had turned into a four thousand strong, cohesive, well-adjusted, cavalry-based instrument of war; that was capable of being rapidly deployed at decisive junctures of the battle to catastrophic effect for its opponents. It had been honed during the march across the Syrian wastelands to the south. Been vital in latching the stranglehold around the city, during the siege of Damascus. At various moments --- during the Battle for Uqab Pass, and against both sally-out manoeuvres by the Byzantines --- the Mobile Guard had arrived in the nick of time, to save the day. It was about to be put to its most audacious test, today.

The Guard was divided into four columns. Each one comprising a thousand men, respectively commanded by Abdel rehman Ibn Abi Bakr, Rafay Ibn Umayr, Zarrar Ibn al-Azwar, and Khalid Ibn al-Waleed, himself. What a terrifying sight it must have been for the enemies of this force, to have seen the dust-devils kicked up in the wake of thundering hooves of galloping steeds, when these columns set off in fast-attack battle formations. A lone figure was at the head of this force in hot pursuit; his own steed straining, as if somehow sensing the urgency of its rider, and the moment. The figure of Jonah, son of Marcius.

His familiarity with the area was of great use to the Muslims; who were clueless about the topography. Navigating the attack columns through the terrain that started to grow progressively rough and broken around the Coastal Mountain Range of northwest Syria, divine intervention came into play. A torrential downpour began; driving down against man and beast in punishing, needle-point sheets.

“Fortuitous indeed”, Khalid must have thought, as he spurred his war-horse onwards against and into the deluge --- the muddy terrain would prevent dust-trails from giving away the approach of the cavalry columns --- the sounds of lightning-strike and thunder-clap would mask the deafening pounding of hoofbeats. As they ascended the twists and turns of the Jabal AlNasiriyah1 mountains, Jonah drew to a sudden halt, as he picked up sounds coming from over a ridgeline. Raising his hand to halt the scouts behind him, who further signalled to the attack columns to stop, Jonah dismounted and crept forward; straining to listen for the sounds he’d heard. It wasn’t his imagination after all; they’d found what they were looking for.

The Meadow of Brocade

 Jonah hurriedly moved back to the main body of the force and sought Khalid, where he told the general about what he’d heard. Khalid’s excitement knew no bounds; as the blood started to pump thick and hot in his veins in anticipation of the impending crossing of swords. Jonah was despatched along with Al-Mufrit al-Ja’dah2 to carry out a visual reconnaissance of the area, and report back, immediately.

After a stealthy, and arduous ascent; only one out of the two individuals could initially be seen hurrying back to the main columns that were dispersed as they waited for an intelligence update on the current scenario. Saif Ullah enquired of Mufrit: “what is behind you? And what has become of Jonah?”

Mufrit: “Good news and booty awaits you, Commander. They are behind this mountain, soaked with rain. They are resting in the sun and have spread out their goods.3 When we reached the top, we saw a great meadow filled with much large vegetation. The Romans had been caught in the rain and their baggage was soaked. They have taken out their brocade, spread it out in the meadow, and most of them are asleep due to the difficulty of the journey, the fatigue and rain.”

It was at this moment that Jonah, too, appeared. Panting and ruddy, from the exertions and the excitement that was writ large on his animated features. Without even pausing to catch his breath, he too, addressed the Commander of the Muslim army:

Jonah: “Glad tidings, O Commander! They are complacent, but please order your men that whoever comes across her should guard her, for I want nothing from the booty besides her.”

 Khalid: “She is yours, if Allah wills it.”

The Iron Sickle

Khalid’s plan --- formulated speedily, because of the opportunistic nature of the situation encountered --- could serve as a guiding beacon for any student of the modern tactics of waging an encounter battle, even today. Having already divided his force into four manoeuvre components, he launched them with staggered timings and from all cardinal points of direction, whilst retaining the requisite balance to exploit success at any given time. The base of the “sickle” was his own thousand-strong column; which charged into contact with the Byzantines from the south, effectively fixing them.7 Thinking that they had been discovered by a small number of Arab scouts, Thomas’s soldiers --- comprising some ten thousand --- hastily rose and assembled to meet this threat. As they were charging onto Khalid’s contingent, though, they were attacked by Zarrar’s force, which jockeyed around Khalid’s detachment from the east, and charged onto the exposed Byzantine flank, therefrom. The passage of a short time --- and much bloodshed, later --- found Rafay’s force skirting around Zarrar’s column from the right and north; before wheeling onto the hapless Romans from the rear. The “sickle” was now in place; leaving only the west --- and the Mediterranean coast --- as the available space for evasive manoeuvre. Soon, though, this gap was also plugged; with Abdelrehman’s column side-stepping around Rafay’s and securing the noose from the west around the Roman forces; who went from drying out themselves and their equipment in the sun, to being encircled, isolated, and put to sword, in dizzyingly short order.

Khalid and Thomas

They were both easily identifiable to one another. One; turbaned, bearded, and dressed in the white linen and maroon-stained leather armour favoured by the Arabs. An aweinspiring figure; that mowed through rank after rank of Byzantine’s most fearsome troops. The other; dressed in shining bronze armour of the type most prized by the soldiers of Rome, a ruby-encrusted gold Cross from the emperor of Byzantium9 borne aloft in front of his five hundred strong mounted troops, armed with broadsword and shield, laying waste all those Muslim soldiers that would come within distance of sword-strike and spear-thrust. The stallions atop which both were mounted, respectively --- one, an Arabian of incredible speed, agility and regal bearing; the other, massive, powerful and intimidating --- seemed to automatically seek one another out; drawn to battle almost by some base, animalistic instinct. The battle-cries and shouts and screams; seemed to fade into the background; grow hushed and muted, as the most important duel of the entire campaign began.

The horses must have careened into one another and sent both generals flying; so intense was the impact of man and beast, meeting man and beast. The first to his feet was Khalid, who swiped at his opponent with the spear that had miraculously landed within arm’s reach of his fall; gouging against Thomas’s side, before his breastplate of armour deflected the point of the spear away. The Roman replied to this thrust with a mighty swing of his broadsword; the massive blade whistling perilously close to Khalid’s throat, but missing it by a hair’s breadth. A throw of the javelin at Thomas, bounced off his bronze breastplate, causing Khalid to draw his sword, instead. And thus, they fought on; the wily Khalid circling around Thomas’s blind right side;10 using this advantage to subject him to several cuts and thrusts and jabs of his sharpsturdy battle-sword. Thomas fought valiantly; on several occasions, coming dangerously close to disarticulating his battle-hardened opponent. It was one such unsuccessful thrust, that provided Saif Ullah with the opportunity he had been waiting for; pirouetting around and under the missed blow, he closed the distance with his opponent, and struck. The point of his sword struck into Thomas’s left eye11 --- blinding him in the last fractions of a second of his life --- before it exited the back of his head.

Amongst the thousands who had been watching this, mesmerized; the first to act was Abdelrehman Ibn Abi Bakr, who galloped to site of the duel, jumped onto Thomas’s slain chest, decapitated him, and raised his head aloft at spearpoint. Letting out a blood-curdling roar, that thundered around the battlefield; drowning out the sounds of combat, conflict and carnage… “by Allah, Thomas is slain!”

Jonah and Ayna

While this epic duel was being waged, Jonah ran about --- as if a madman --- seeking out his beloved Ayna;13 for this was her name.

He finally found her. Wearing a nun’s habit;14 which caused him much disturbance and fright. Their eyes met; and he murmured to her to accompany him. When her blazing eyes and angry lips replied “no”, perhaps Jonah might have implored with her, even. To no avail. She was adamant that she would never give up her Church for a man who had joined the path of Islam. As Jonah took a step towards her, she tugged out a small, sharp dagger from her robes and held it to her breast; threatening to kill herself if the man approached, even a step further. Jonah did take that step, and watched, as she pulled her hand towards her, suddenly. Savagely. Violently. The slender blade struck her in the heart; causing her to keel over in the very throes of death, even though her ill-fated husband managed to catch her, before her lifeless body hit the ground of the “Meadow of Brocade”.

This was how the other companions of the Last Prophet found him; weeping profusely at his loss, cradling the blood-stained body of the only woman he had ever truly loved, in his arms.

Epilogue

After this battle, the Muslim army cut through the rest of Syria like a scythe through grass. Homs and Ba’labbak fell to them. This led to the Battle of al-Yarmuk; which was perhaps the most significant battle of its time; and possibly ended any vestige of the Roman empire’s ability to contain the spread of Islam. Jerusalem fell; bloodlessly, almost. Leaving only Antioch, as the sole remaining bastion of an epoch that had come to its end; which too, fell, in due course.

Jonah lived on, a Muslim. Fighting on in the cause of his newfound religion, until his death in battle many years, later. According to Rafay Ibn Umayr: “he (Jonah) fought with us until al-Yarmuk. There I saw him fighting earnestly in the path of Allah, greatly inflicting the Romans, until an arrow struck his throat and he fell down dead, may Allah have mercy on his soul. Many moons later, I saw him in a dream, wearing glittering clothing and golden sandals, wandering in a lush garden.”

It would appear that Jonah found peace in the afterlife. During his life, though, he chose to never remarry.