Before those years they had already introduced—after the adhan—the recitation of that verse (1) on Thursday night, the eve of Friday, together with sending blessings upon the Messenger of Allah (may Allah bless him and grant him peace). The chief muezzin would begin alone, after which the congregation would repeat it in an orderly manner (2). This drew people to gather in the mosque courtyard to listen; the more melodious the initiator’s voice, the greater the crowd. The pause, however, became so long that the prayer was delayed beyond its earliest time. End of citation.
A most extraordinary occurrence
On Sunday night, that is, Saturday evening, Emir Sayf al-Din Qutlubgha al-Fakhri encamped outside Damascus—between al-Jasura and the Maydan al-Hisa—with the battalions that had accompanied him from Egypt to besiege al-Karak and seize the Sultan’s son, Emir Ahmad ibn al-Nasir. They remained on the Thaniyya pass, keeping the place under tight siege, until the deputy-governor of Syria set out for Aleppo. When those days had passed, the people suddenly found that al-Fakhri and his forces had returned: they had pledged allegiance to Emir Ahmad, calling him al-Nasir ibn al-Nasir; they had revoked their oath to his brother, King al-Ashraf ʿAlaʾ al-Din Kujuk, on the pretext of his youth; and they alleged that his atabeg, Emir Sayf al-Din Qawsun al-Nasiri, had set upon the Sultan’s two other sons—King al-Mansur Abu Bakr and Ramadan—and had them strangled in Upper Egypt by agents he dispatched. Because of this, the emir fell into disrepute.
They said, “He means to wipe out this dynasty so that he alone may seize the throne.” Stirred to anger, they swore allegiance to the son of their former master and set off behind the army to support Emir Sayf al-Din Tashtumur, the deputy of Aleppo, and those with him, writing to other emirs to win them over as well.
When they camped on the outskirts of Damascus, the city’s grandees, judges, and officials—among them the governor of the rural districts, the governor of the city, Ibn Samindar, and others—went out to greet them. At dawn the next morning the people of Damascus, to a man, poured forth as they do for the arrival of sultans or the entry of pilgrims—indeed, in some respects even more so. The judges, the grand chamberlain, the notables, and the governors also came out.
Emir Sayf al-Din Qutlubgha then entered, seated upon the dais of the viceroyalty that the new Sultan al-Nasir had conferred on him, the Shafiʿi judge to his right and the Hanafi to his left, as was customary. The whole army, clad in mail, surrounded him; trumpets, horns, the sultan’s archers, and the caliphal and royal standards fluttered while the populace invoked blessings and praise for al-Fakhri, overjoyed and full of hope. Some of the uninformed even maligned the other deputy who had gone to Aleppo.
The battalions marched in behind him in their proper order, and it was a memorable day indeed. He encamped east of Damascus near Khan Lajin and, that very day, issued orders: he levied an assessment on the judges and the grand chamberlain, seized five hundred thousand from the orphans’ funds and other treasuries, compensated them with a village from the public purse, drew up formal deeds to that effect, equipped his forces well, and was joined by additional emirs.