30

Khalid ibn al-Waleed, the general of Mecca’s forces, stared out at the approaching throngs of his enemies. But they were not garbed in steel armor or carrying mighty weapons of war. Instead they were clothed in the ihram, the simple white linen of pilgrims coming to visit the Sanctuary at the heart of Arabia. The men of Medina wore a two-piece costume, a sheet wrapped around their loins with a second draped across their shoulders, while the Muslim women wore flowing robes and head scarves.

Khalid sat on his mighty stallion, his eyes fixed on the sea of fourteen hundred Muslims marching unarmed and defenseless on the sacred city from which their leaders had been expelled almost a decade before. He heard their emotional cries of the ancient Pilgrimage evocation: Labayk, Allahumma, labayk! “I answer your call, O God, I answer!” And even his heart, which had little room for sentiment, was moved.

But though his emotions may have been softened by this remarkable sight, his duty as a warrior remained unchanged. Khalid clicked his tongue and spurred his horse forward and raced to the approaching throng of worshipers.

The leaders of Mecca had just received word of this incoming wave of Muslims and the city was in a frenzy. It was a sad testament to the fall of Mecca’s prestige since the failed Siege of the Trench that none of the allied Bedouin tribes had bothered to give Abu Sufyan and his cronies sufficient warning of the approaching pilgrim caravan from Medina. Perhaps their spies in the neighboring hills did not think the arrival of unarmed worshipers to Mecca posed any threat, but Khalid wondered whether the same silence would have greeted Muhammad’s arrival on a mission of war.

Muhammad. Khalid shook his head in admiration. The man had proven to be not only an inspiring teacher and political leader but also an apt general and a truly brilliant military strategist. This most recent surprise tactic, of sending his people out to join the Pilgrimage like the other Arab tribes, was a brilliant stroke, the play of a master at the top of his game. For even as Khalid rode out to meet his foes, he knew there was little he could do to stop them. Pilgrims were protected by the ancient taboos of his people, and he could not lay hands on them without inciting the wrath of Mecca’s few remaining allies.

Which, of course, Muhammad understood. He was sending to Mecca a force large enough to invade and occupy the city, but one that carried no weapons that could invite retaliation. Muhammad would in essence bind Mecca with a chain of peace and there was nothing that Abu Sufyan or the elders could do about it.

As Khalid rode over a hill, he heard the thunder of hooves behind him and could smell the sweat of his men who were riding out to support their commander. Two hundred of the finest cavalry of Mecca would be behind him in moments, and the dust of their approach was likely already visible on the horizon to the approaching pilgrims. And yet the crowd did not slow its advance, and the Muslims continued walking toward the sacred city from which they were banned.

As his legion of horsemen raced toward the peaceful invaders, Khalid rode forward until he was within shouting distance from the men at the front lines. He recognized Umar ibn al-Khattab, the fierce warrior who had abandoned his people for this new faith, and he spurred his horse toward the towering figure.

Umar must have seen him ride up from over the dunes, even as he must now see the oncoming wave of Meccan horses. But the grim man simply stared straight ahead, chanting the pilgrim’s call even louder as the rumble of hooves echoed closer.

Khalid rode up straight to him and called out.

“I have been sent by the lords of Mecca to say that you are not welcome here. Go back to your land and disturb not the Pilgrimage.”

Umar finally looked at him, but there was no fear in his eyes, only mild contempt, as if he were being barked at by a rabid dog. And then Umar strode forward and continued to walk past Khalid as if he did not recognize the most acclaimed soldier of their nation.

Khalid reared his horse, which struck out its hooves defiantly at Umar. A single blow from his stallion’s powerful legs could easily kill a man. And yet Umar continued to ignore him and raised his voice louder in prayer.

Khalid watched as the throng of Muslims passed around him as if they were a raging river and he a mere stone that could in no way inhibit their flow. And then he felt a welling of deep respect for the heretics who had turned his world upside down.

The warrior pulled on his reins and his horse began to move through the crowd. As he rode back up toward the hill, he saw that his men were waiting at its top. They were gazing down in awe at the confident progress of the crowd, and even though each man was armed with a bow and arrows that could easily decimate their enemies, his soldiers did not move to challenge the Muslims.

As Khalid reached the front lies of the now-impotent Meccan defense force, he saw his old friend Amr ibn al-As at its forefront. Khalid saw in Amr’s eyes the same respect that he had felt, and he knew that he could share his innermost thoughts with his comrade.

“These men are braver in their rags than a thousand soldiers hiding behind armor and blades,” Khalid said.

Amr kept his eyes on the mass of thousands, moving in perfect unison, their march steady and timed with almost military precision. And then he turned to face Khalid, a glint in his eye.

“Imagine what such bravery could accomplish if they had the power of armor and blades as well,” Amr said.

Khalid smiled as he suddenly understood what Amr was thinking. And for a second, he no longer felt the weariness of his years of leading Mecca in a losing war against a smarter foe. His heart swelled with unexpected pride that his kinsman Muhammad had somehow united a raggedy band of disorganized Arabs with such bonds of power. It was an ambition that Khalid himself had always nurtured, of forging the barbarian desert tribes into a nation worthy to stand against the mighty armies of the surrounding empires. Of harnessing the ferocious, warlike blood of his people with the military discipline that they had lacked for centuries. But he had dismissed the notion as an empty dream of his youth, a monumental task that was beyond the skills of any man.

Any man except Muhammad.

And as he gazed down at the steadily approaching, utterly fearless legion of men, the warrior of Mecca had a vision of the future that made his heart race faster in excitement.

“They would conquer the world,” he said, his eyes growing wide in wonder, as if a lifelong riddle had been answered in the most unexpected of ways.

Amr smiled at him knowingly, and then the two men led the Meccan cavalry back to the stables, allowing the Muslims to approach the holy city unmolested for the first time in a decade.