something; so I said to the guard in charge of me, “I need (1) a piece of string.”

He brought it, and with it I tightened the irons and worked the waistband back into my trousers, fearing that something might befall me and I be left exposed.

When morning came I was escorted into the hall—packed to overflowing. They led me from one spot to another: some men brandished swords, others held whips, and still others carried different implements. During the previous two days none of these high-ranking men had been present.

When I reached the Caliph he said, “Sit.” Then he ordered, “Debate with him, speak to him.” They began disputing with me: one spoke and I answered him, another spoke and I answered him, and my voice rose above theirs. One of the men standing over my head (2) kept signaling to me with his hand. When the session grew long, he drew me aside, then conferred with them privately, then dismissed them and brought me back. “Woe to you, Ahmad!” he said. “Answer me so that I may set you free with my own hand.” I replied to him as I had before, and he shouted, “Upon you be—” and he uttered a curse—“Seize him! Drag him off! Strip him!”

So I was dragged away and my clothes were removed.

I happened to have a few hairs of the Prophet ﷺ sewn into the cuff of my shirt. Ishaq ibn Ibrahim sent asking, “What is this parcel?” I said, “It is a strand of the Messenger of Allah’s hair.” Some of them tried to tear the shirt from me, but al-Muʿtaṣim said, “Do not rip it.” It was therefore taken off intact, and I assumed the shirt had been spared only because of the hair.

Al-Muʿtaṣim then sat on a chair and called out, “Bring the ʿuqabayn (3) and the whips.” The ʿuqabayn were brought and my hands were stretched out. Someone behind me said, “Grip the projecting ends (4) of the two boards with your hands and hold tight.” I did not understand what he meant, and my arms were dislocated.