into the salt flat that lies between the trench and Mount Salʿ.

ʿAli—may Allah be pleased with him—then went out with a number of Muslims and closed off the breach. The enemy horsemen charged toward them at full gallop. Among them was ʿAmr ibn ʿAbd Wudd, who had fought at Badr until wounds disabled him and so had been absent from Uhud. On the Day of the Trench he rode out in full battle dress, eager to display his prowess. Halting with his mount, he shouted, “Who will duel me?” ʿAli stepped forward.

“O ʿAmr,” he said, “you once pledged before Allah that if any man of Quraysh invited you to choose between two options, you would accept the challenge.”

“That is true,” ʿAmr answered.

“I invite you to Allah, to His Messenger, and to Islam.”

“I have no need of that,” ʿAmr retorted.

“Then I invite you to single combat.”

“Why, my nephew? By Allah, I do not wish to kill you.”

“But by Allah,” ʿAli declared, “I very much wish to kill you.”

ʿAmr’s anger flared. He leapt from his horse, hamstrung it, struck it across the face, and advanced on ʿAli. The two closed, circling and trading blows, until ʿAli killed him. Their cavalry broke in panic and scrambled back across the trench.

That day ʿIkrimah threw down his spear and fled. ʿAli composed these verses about the encounter:

He championed lifeless stones, beguiled by empty pride,
while I upheld Muhammad’s creed with flashing steel.

I met him, left him sprawling—rigid as a palm trunk
between the rocky ridges and the hills.

O confederates, never think that Allah will forsake
His faith and His Prophet.

Abu Layla ʿAbd Allah ibn Sahl told me that ʿAʾisha was in the fortress of Banū Ḥārithah on the Day of the Trench, and the mother of Saʿd ibn Muʿādh was there with her. Saʿd passed by wearing a shortened coat of mail that left his entire arm exposed; in his hand was a spear that he brandished while chanting:

Tarry but a moment—soon the warrior meets the fray;
death brings no terror when the destined hour draws near.