that he summoned them, and they swore the oaths they swore.
After that, a faction of the Shiʿah rallied around Zayd ibn ʿAlī, about forty thousand strong. One of his well-wishers—Muḥammad ibn ʿUmar ibn ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib—tried to dissuade him from rising up and said to him,
“Your grandfather was better than you, and eighty thousand people of Iraq pledged allegiance to him, yet they betrayed him when he needed them most. I warn you about the people of Iraq.”
Zayd would not listen. Instead, he went on covertly taking people’s pledges in Kūfah on the basis of the Book of Allah and the Sunnah of His Messenger. His cause there grew ever stronger while he moved from house to house, and so it continued until the year 122 AH came in— the year in which he was killed, as we shall soon recount.
In that same year Naṣr ibn Sayyār, the governor of Khurāsān, launched several campaigns against the Turks. In one of those battles he captured their king, Kursul, without at first recognizing him. When he became sure of his identity, Kursul asked to be released on condition that he would send him one thousand Turkish camels of the bakhatī breed and one thousand riding horses; yet the man was already extremely old. Naṣr consulted the commanders with him: some advised releasing him, others putting him to death.
Naṣr then asked, “How many campaigns have you fought?”
He answered, “Seventy-two.”
Naṣr replied, “A man like you is not to be set free after having witnessed all of this.” He ordered that Kursul be executed; his neck was struck and he was crucified.
When his army heard of his death, they spent that night wailing and weeping for him; they tore out their beards and hair, cut off their ears, burned many tents, and slaughtered large numbers of livestock. At dawn Naṣr ordered that the body be burned so they could not reclaim it, and the burning hurt them even more than the killing. They withdrew, humiliated and defeated. Naṣr then swept back through their lands, killing multitudes and capturing untold numbers. Among those brought before him was a very old woman of Persian—or Turkish—royal stock.
She said to Naṣr ibn Sayyār: “Any king who lacks six things is no king at all:
- a truthful vizier who decides people’s disputes, consults him, and gives sincere counsel;
- a cook who prepares whatever dishes he craves;
- a beautiful wife such that, whenever he enters her presence burdened, he looks at her and his sorrow departs;
- an impregnable fortress to which his subjects may flee in times of alarm;
- a sword he can wield against his peers without fear of its betraying him; and
- provisions such that, wherever fate may cast him upon the earth, he can live on them.”
That year the pilgrimage was led by Muḥammad ibn Hishām ibn Ismāʿīl, the governor of Mecca, Medina, and Ṭāʾif; the governor of Iraq was Yūsuf ibn ʿUmar; of Khurāsān, Naṣr ibn Sayyār; and over Armenia, Marwān ibn Muḥammad ibn Marwān, nicknamed “al-Ḥimār” (the Donkey).
Notable deaths in that year: Zayd ibn ʿAlī ibn al-Ḥusayn ibn ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib (1)—although the prevailing report is that he was killed in the following year, as will, God willing, be explained.