21, Safar 1663

The sun sat high in the sky, mercilessly hammering heat down on to the desert battlefield. As previously planned, Muhammad and the small band of volunteer soldiers from the village came to confront Lessard and his army at noon. The small band had all come in their traditional green warrior's garb, carrying their black shields and curved blades, with black turbans blowing in the wind. Muhammad stood at the front with his spear in hand and turban wrapped to protect his face from the dust blowing about. His black cape flapped behind him.

As he and his small band of 60 soldiers marched on, Muhammad went over the battle plan once more in his head. All we need to do is hold them off long enough for Imran and Usama to arrive with the horsemen and archers from the mountains, he thought to himself. We are undoubtedly outnumbered, and though strong in determination, these soldiers are unskilled in the art of battle. Living out here so far in the desert, they've never really had to worry about invasions or any enemies besides nature. Their warrior ways have been lost with time unfortunately. Still, we are fighting for a just cause, and that is enough. Allah is with those who faith in Him, and if these men have the courage to come out here, with no actual armor or training, just to fight and defend their families in Allah's name, then I believe they have faith in Allah and we can win this.

Muhammad looked back to the men who had been following behind him. The distance had increased beyond what he considered acceptable. He could see signs of fatigue on their faces. "We will stop here," he ordered. "Any further and you guys won't have the energy to fight the enemy when we meet them."

"Sir, we must continue," one young man spoke up, eager to keep up the march. "We need to be as far away from our families as possible, should we be defea-"

"Don't even speak of such a thing!" Muhammad cut him off. "Insha'Allah we will be victorious here, and if we are not then Allah is the Protector over our families. If you are so concerned though brother, you must realize that we need to be strong enough to fight them, otherwise they will just defeat us and move on."

"I, I understand sir. I'm sorry for stepping out of line."

"No worries brother. I understand you r worry, I truly do." Muhammad peered out into the distance, seeing no sign of the enemy army. Oh Naimah, I pray you are safe, Muhammad thought deep inside. I know you told me to trust in Allah and that you would do the same, but I also know you are worried about me, and I don't want you to let your emotions drive you to do anything that would endanger yourself. I don't know that I could fight were I to see you in harm's way. Allah has forbidden fighting for vengeance…. And I just love you too much….

Off over the horizon Muhammad could see a wave of dust being kicked up. "The enemy is near," he warned his troop, looking on at the army of 300. "Ready yourselves my brothers. We do not know whether we shall be granted physical victory or not, but if you trust in Allah, and give your all to this then you can be sure that Allah has promised Jannah to the martyrs . Our strongest weapon here is not the swords you carry or the spear in my hand, our strongest weapon is our iman, our faith. Hold firm to that and no matter what we will be victorious! Our families, our homes, our lives, these are all trusts from Allah, He gives and He takes. Today, He has given us a test, and a chance to defend these things which He has bestowed on us. So let us fight as brave warriors, and die as noble martyrs! If we fall, Insha'Allah we will gather once more in Jannah! Takbir!"

"Allahu Akbar!" the troops resounded.

"Takbir!"

"Allahu Akbar!"

"Takbir!"

"ALLAHU AKBAR!" With Muhammad in front, the troop marched on to meet their enemy. In the distance, the Nefarian army, dressed in blue and white colors, began to chant the name of their nation's leader, Kwaade as they ran up to the Muslim army. Muhammad gripped his spear as he sped up, distancing himself from his army. Let's see if I can stir them up enough to break their units, Muhammad strategized in his head. If I can scatter them, my troop will have an easier time facing them.

His spear clashed with the foremost shields of the Nefarian soldiers. Twisting and turning, he maneuvered his way through the ranks while slashing at the faces of the enemy. He immediately felled four of the enemy soldiers upon impact. His heart was pumping as the enemies rushed in all around him. He struck another man down and pierced another's shield. Using his spear, he snatched the shield away and kicked the man down. He then quickly spun around to sweep an oncoming assailant down to the ground. He grabbed his spear with both hands and spun it around to deflect a sword from his face.

Still surrounded, Muhammad jumped to the air and kicked on man in the chest. Coming down to the ground, Muhammad rolled up into a swinging attack and took out two other men. He flipped his spear over and knocked one man in the head before flipping it back over to stab in through his heart. Muhammad then used his spear and vaulted himself over two charging attackers, causing them to collide. Another man came wielding an axe. He swung for Muhammad's head but Muhammad parried the blade away. He stabbed at the man's feet until the man backed away into another soldier's sword.

Soon Muhammad's army had met up with the Nefarian army and the swords clashed. Blood spilled as one by one the Muslim army took down their enemies, receiving little to no damage themselves. It was then that Muhammad spotted in the crowd the enemy general George Lessard as he slayed one of the older Muslim men. Muhammad made his way across through the Nefarian army, twirling his spear and taking out numerous soldiers as he cleared a path.

Finally he reached Lessard. "Face me if you dare!" he called out to the general. "Or do you fight only the old and weak?"

"How dare you address me with such disrespect you desert dwelling raghead!" Lessard stabbed his sword through another of the Muslims abdomen before he turned to charge at Muhammad. "I'm going to slaughter you like the animal you are!"

Muhammad dug his feet into the ground as he readied himself for the attack. Lessard raised his sword up into the air and lunged at Muhammad. Gripping his spear tightly, Muhammad was about to block what he saw as a reckless attack that exposed the enemy to his own ensuing attack. Just seconds before the steel of Lessard's sword would collide with the wood of Muhammad's spear, Muhammad noticed one of Lessard's soldiers sneaking up on the side. Acting quickly, Muhammad dove to the side and rolled out of the way of impact. "Too afraid to face me alone coward?" Muhammad shouted out.

"This is war fool," Lessard shouted back, taunting Muhammad with a hand gesture. Muhammad stood to attack when he was hit from behind by the blunt end of another soldier's sword. He fell to the ground and rolled over to look at his attacker. The man swung his blade down strike Muhammad's face but was quickly beheaded by the swift blade of one of the younger Muslim soldiers. The soldier quickly helped Muhammad up before returning to battle.

Standing on his feet, Muhammad looked around for Lessard, but saw no sign of him. So Muhammad rushed back into the crowd stabbing through soldier after soldier, taking out every enemy in his sight. "Where are you Lessard? You coward!"

"Brother," one Muslim spoke has he cut down a fleeing Nefarian. "You must not let your anger get the better of you. Remember why you fight!"

Muhammad sighed realizing his foolishness. He looked at the brave soldier who even in the heat of battle had ikram* for his brother to offer sincere advice on such a matter. He smiled and made a duah for the man under his breath. Then he continued attacking the enemies.

The scorching yellow sand was stained red with blood as the warriors clashed. The dust kicked up from fighting reached an amount that some of the fighters had difficulty seeing. Being used to far worse from sandstorms, Muhammad's army was able to easily adjust whereas Lessard's army struggled to fight. It was at this point that the battle seemed to be over. The Muslims had taken out a substantial amount of enemy soldiers, while only losing 9 themselves.

Suddenly, the ground began to shake as a thundering troop of Nefarian horsemen stormed the battlefield. They cut away at the Muslims with heavy blades atop their horses, sweeping through the crowds with ease. So soon had the Nefarians gained the upper hand. "Strike them down, we are victorious!" Lessard shouted.

No sooner had he spoke those words than an arrow came shooting through the throat of Lessard. He fell flat on his back, right before the feet of Muhammad. Muhammad looked to the mountains to spot the origin of the arrow and he saw Imran standing in his white garb, turban waving in the wind. Behind him stood 40 archers, with their arrows at arm. Muhammad ordered his troops back so that the archers could safely fire on the enemy troops. The remaining Muslims withdrew, still facing and fighting off the enemy.

With the enemy pursuing on horseback, the Muslims weren't able to create a larger enough gap for the archers to shoot. Then , much to their pleasure a troop of Muslims, dressed in black, came rushing forward on horseback to reinforce the fleeing Muslims. At the head of this troop was none other than Usama bin Shameem. Wielding two mighty swords, he mowed down the enemy horsemen. Chopping away at the enemy heads and knocking them off their horses Usama struck fear in the enemies' hearts almost single-handedly. Gaining heart, the Muslims decided against fleeing and decided they would rather fight themselves than wait for the archers to take out the enemy. Muhammad signaled for Imran and his troops to join the fight on the ground.

Muhammad threw his spear through one of the enemy horsemen and proceeded to take his sword and hop on his horse. He smiled as he rode deep through the path Usama had cut away. "How many have you taken out?" Usama queried.

"At least 60 now," Muhammad estimated. "Why?"

"I took out 103 at my last battle. This time I've taken out 33 so far. Let's see if I can catch up to you."

"Go ahead and try, Muhammad said as he slashed at another enemy throat. "I'm not here to compete, but I believe I've got you beat!"

"We'll see," Usama said hopping off his horse. He grabbed hold of a man and struck his sword through him, then spun the man around into another enemy before beheading that man. He jumped and kicked a man in the chest and spun around stabbing both of his swords through the chest of another. He caught hold of one man and drove his own sword through him. He then kicked the man down to pull his blade from his bleeding body. The blood splattered on his face and hands as he sliced through the crowds of foot soldiers.

Muhammad galloped through the crowd of horsemen knocking them off their mounts at every collision. Finally after only a few men were left on horses Muhammad himself unmounted. He charged back into battle swinging his blade fiercely. Taking down several enemies at once, he fought breezed through the crowds like a ferocious whirlwind of sharp steel.

It wasn't long before the Nefarian army began to retreat. The Muslim army chased them through the valley and far away from the city. Muhammad stood, catching his breath as he watched the enemy flee. Imran came up beside him and patted him on the back. Muhammad caught hold of his arm and flipped him over to the ground before pointing a sword in his face.

"Hey, hey hold up," Imran shouted. "It's me Muhammad! The enemy is all gone!"

"Oh, don't mess around like that brother," Muhammad said stabbing the sword into ground and offering Usama and helping hand back up.

"I was coming to congratulate you on the victory Allah has granted us under your lead."

"Alhamdulillah, these brothers were sincere and so they were victorious."

"Alhamdulillah."

"Now I just need someone to call them all back," Muhammad laughed. "They don't seem to understand then enemy has surrendered, we are victorious and they won't be coming back."

"I will take my horse and go," Imran volunteered, hopping back onto his horse. "It's the least I can do since I only got one kill."

"Speaking of kills," Usama said placing his two swords in their scabbards. "I maxed at 67 this time. So you win. But next time, I'll be there from the start Insha'Allah."

"Hm. As I said, it's no contest. We do this for Allah."

"Of course we fight for Allah. Come on Muhammad, you know me; I would never fight for glory or anything. This keeping count was merely something of encouragement and fun between us two."

"Whatever you say Usama, just be careful. Now, let's return home, I am exhausted."

GLOSSARY:

Ikram: concern