This job really makes me invisible, Ruqayya mused as she shifted from one foot to the other, parchment in one hand, ink bottle and quill in the other.
She studied Muhammad ibn Abu Hudhayfa sighing, pacing the floor of the governor's chamber.
"Ibn Abu Sarh's tardiness is to be a blight upon me once more, it seems," ibn Abu Hudhayfa whispered to himself.
It's amazing how he thought he was alone in the chamber. Ruqayya didn't want to lurk in a corner, but what was she to do?
"What part of 'I require audience at dusk' did he not comprehend?" ibn Abu Hudhayfa, the governor's right-hand man, continued to vent.
He surmised that ibn Abu Sarh understood very well the complexities of governing an ancient land such as Egypt, a prized province of the Caliphate. He was a shrewd man, ibn Abu Hudhayfa surmised, but only cared to fill his own belly and burst his own coffers with the gold of the natives of this land of wonder. To ibn Abu Hudhayfa's despair, he supposed the words of his informant, the Copt who called himself Marcus, that the governor cared for naught but furthering his own means. It was a rampant reputation among the Coptic populace, and even some of the Arabs were stirring in al-Fustat in their disgruntlement.
"Doubtless he is otherwise occupied by the touch of a maiden or the kiss of forbidden wine," ibn Abu Hudhayfa burst out ruefully.
Ruqayya could barely contain her laughter. The man shook his head as though clearing it of such thoughts.
"No, the Khalifa's wisdom was beyond question," he paced again. Ruqayya wondered why the man was speaking to himself so often. She did have to admit the governor was a handful. He could turn anyone mad. "I should know that more than anyone. If he deems ibn Abu Sarh fit to be governor of Egypt, then he must be so."
This man who called himself Muhammad, but commonly referred to as the son of Abu Hudhayfa, was relatively new to the antics of the governor ibn Abu Sarh, Ruqayya knew. The Khalifa himself who resided far away in the Arabian homeland selected him to become the governor's second in command.
Word was that ibn Abu Hudhayfa was actually Khalifa 'Uthman's son by adoption. Or rather, his foster son. Muhammad's father and closest male kin had fallen fighting for their religion against some false prophet. Taking pity upon the boy, 'Uthman who had been but a wealthy merchant then rather than a ruler, took him under his wing and raised him to become the man he was today.
Ibn Abu Hudhayfa a foster son, the governor himself a milk brother, Ruqayya noted. Both the governor and his second in command were of close familial connection to the Khalifa. She wondered if that had anything to do with their appointment to high places.
Just as ibn Abu Hudhayfa wandered about the chamber, Ruqayya's own mind did the same. How does it feel to be close kin to those with influence? What was it like to not want for something? To not despair?
She bit back a tear, remembering Andronicus' state that morning. His condition was worsening by the day, and there was naught she could do. The concoctions the wisemen that examined her adoptive father prescribed to her were beyond her financial means. Not to mention the wisemen's fees as well.
It was what forced her into this damned job. Who would have thought it possible? Merchant by day, servant by night.
She was forced to take over the business from Father after he had taken ill. But work in this newly constructed city – if you could call it that – was scant and not as rewarding as Father had once expected. Customers were scarce, competition plentiful, and the prices low. Not to mention the lifestyle of these Arabs. They cared for nothing and sought nothing in the way of excess – no matter how wealthy.
Perhaps that was not true for all of them, Ruqayya scoffed. She once again thought of the governor, 'Abdullah ibn Abu Sarh. Where his right-hand man was just beginning to become accustomed to his behavior, Ruqayya had long since learned to find the humor in it instead.
The governor's controversial past was no secret. Ibn Abu Sarh was an early convert, but he soured that status with apostasy. He reverted back to polytheism at some point, returning to the Quraysh tribe in Makkah, abandoning the cause of Islam. Or he thought.
For Makkah would fall to the Muslim army, eventually. And so would have ibn Abu Sarh had he not gone through a convenient change of heart, where he reuttered the shahada to return to the ranks of 'believers'.
The governor was an avaricious man, and a drunk besides. He would try his best to conceal it, but Ruqayya could point out the sway in his gait, the subtle sheen of sweat on his forehead, his milky eyes. He would never drink in public, of course. But he compensated that by keeping his mouth constantly busy, gouging himself on fruit and date and meat.
With no care for the accessibility of food and fodder for the people, Ruqayya thought bitterly. She lived in Alexandria before they'd moved to al-Fustat, the new Arab capital of Egypt. And she kept in touch with her friends back home, as a result.
Her friend Marcus complained to her in his letters that the city was becoming increasingly neglected in terms of supplies. She knew for a fact that heavier taxes were being levied even upon the Muslims in al-Fustat.
She knew not what the future held for her or her father, governor or no governor. She grabbed the wooden cross that dangled from her neck and remembered Father Rochbert's teachings.
Always be grateful for what you have, she mouthed the words with her eyes shut. For there is always someone in a worse state.
She reopened her eyes, a slight smile forming on her lips as she realized that someone was pacing before her.
Ibn Abu Hudhayfa seemed like an energetic man and pragmatic to boot. He had ideas and suggestions on how to more efficiently govern the province, plans to solidify al-Fustat's status as a true city by constructing sturdy buildings rather than the tents the soldiers occupied. Al-Fustat boasted only of a few wooden structures that were almost all mosques but for the governor's dwelling which they now occupied.
The tents had initially been erected to mark the place of a military operation during the conquest of the land. It was only a short distance away from the fort city of Babylon. It was populated almost entirely by settled soldiers and their families.
Ruqayya had listened to ibn Abu Hudhayfa's passionate reports and speeches intently from the corners. She was not ashamed to say she'd learned a thing or two from his words. But the governor seemed entirely unmoved, apathetic even. He was paying more attention to whatever meal he had in hand.
She sighed, studying ibn Abu Hudhayfa's agitated pacing again. He could never reach his full potential under this ibn Abu Sarh. She felt sorry for him, being snuffed like a candle, running himself ragged only to be halted by a dead end.
It was then that the door slammed open, revealing another visitor. Ibn Abu Hudhayfa perked up, perhaps assuming it was the governor.
He tossed his arms into the air and resumed his pacing when the newcomer revealed himself to be none other than Muhammad ibn Abu Bakr, one of the higher-ranking military officers in the city.
"Abu Hudhayfa," the newcomer greeted him in a short, gruff tone.
Where Abu Hudhayfa was new, reserved and timid, Ruqayya knew ibn Abu Bakr to be rash, hot-headed and brazen. He was known for his rather blunt admonition of some of the governor's unpopular policies.
This should be an interesting interaction, she thought, leaning forward to better listen, trying to convince herself it wasn't eavesdropping if she was in plain sight all the while.
"I see the governor is remarkably tardy once more," the son of Abu Bakr noted.
Ibn Abu Hudhayfa puffed in frustration. "You insist on tarnishing the reputation of a good Muslim again? Do you not know it is a sin to speak ill of those not present?"
"He isn't present," ibn Abu Bakr agreed. "But who is at fault for that?"
Ibn Abu Hudhayfa opened his mouth as if to reply, but thought better of it.
"Who is at fault for the dwindling of grain and food supplies through poor provisioning and incompetence in planning?" ibn Abu Bakr prodded him further.
It never failed to amaze Ruqayya how they always continued to speak as if she was not there.
"Bah!" ibn Abu Hudhayfa threw his arms in the air again. "Whatever your disagreements are, there is a chain of command to be respected! There is a religion to abide and a god to fear. If you have arguments, you take them up with the governor, not speak ill of him behind his back, and commit sin in doing so."
"But where is the governor?" ibn Abu Bakr feigned genuine curiosity, spreading his hands before him and surveying the chamber around them. "He is nowhere to be seen. Just as he is nowhere to be seen amid the rising disgruntlement among the men."
"Don't tell me it's this nonsense about the stipend system again."
"Is it not unfair, Abu Hudhayfa," ibn Abu Bakr asked. "The men certainly think so. Why should one who works half as much as you do with nowhere near the skills earn more only for the sake of converting earlier than you?"
"The stipend system has been in use since the days of 'Umar," there was a rising edge to ibn Abu Hudhayfa's voice. "If you converted early, you earn more. That's the way it's been for years. Why are people beginning to take offense now? Why in the reign of 'Uthman?"
"Because he's weak," ibn Abu Bakr answered so bluntly that Ruqayya almost jumped. "Where people trembled before 'Umar, they now scoff at 'Uthman. Not to mention ibn Abu Sarh's abuse of the system for his own needs. If you ask me, the man isn't fit to lead. I doubt his faith."
"Who are you to doubt the veracity of a man's faith?" ibn Abu Hudhayfa demanded. "Have you seen what is inside his heart?"
"I've seen the inside of his beer skin," ibn Abu Bakr growled back. "Abu Hudhayfa, open your eyes and wake up. Al-Fustat is riling up for mutiny. Egypt is on the brink of disaster and you know it."
Ibn Abu Hudhayfa looked away as if in shame.
"The crops are failing, they say," ibn Abu Bakr continued, capitalizing on his momentum. "The irrigation levels of the great river are said to be subpar this season. Is that so, Abu Hudhayfa? Word around al-Fustat was that it is a sign of Allah's disapproval of the governor. Some claim it is Allah's chastisement of the Khalifa."
"Watch your tongue, son of Abu Bakr," ibn Abu Hudhayfa chastised the other man. "What you say borders on heresy."
"Yet, it is the talk of the men," ibn Abu Bakr remained firm. "They are convinced we will have another famine."
"There will not be another famine!" ibn Abu Hudhayfa promised.
Ruqayya winced at the mention. The first famine was testimony enough to the governor's competence.
Muhammad ibn Abu Hudhayfa could not refute the argument. But he hesitated to agree as well. It was as though he was torn between overwhelming respect for a man he called father and the teachings he held dear.
"The men were right to become disillusioned with his rule," ibn Abu Bakr informed him.
"Perhaps the governor is not beyond saving," the other suggested, only half believing. "Even then, what is worst that could happen? I know the Khalifa. I know he would never let it come to turmoil or savagery. He would listen to the dissenters with open ears and welcome them with wide arms. Perhaps if they demanded it, ibn Abu Sarh would be removed from office."
"Do whatever you see fit for the time being," ibn Abu Bakr replied. "But I've weathered ibn Abu Sarh's volatile and unstable moods for years. But it still stung when his sound advice fell on deaf ears. Keep that in mind. I pray to God it changes your opinion."
It was well past dark when the door to the governor's office creaked open revealing 'Abdullah ibn Sa'ad ibn Abu Sarh himself, the man acting in the name of God and Khalifa as lord and ruler of Egypt.
He was drunk.