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Chapter 1 - Rebel’s Apothecary

**Scene 1: The Saffron Cellar** 

*Kufa — 721 CE* 

Hayyan al-Azdi's knuckles whitened as he pressed a linen pad soaked in **myrrh** and **pomegranate rind** against the sword gash in the young rebel's side. The air hung thick with the scent of dried cumin, crushed coriander, and the metallic tang of blood. 

*"Allahu akbar..."* groaned the fighter, teeth gritted as Hayyan threaded a bone needle through torn flesh. 

**"Breathe through the pain, Zayd,"** Hayyan murmured, his voice low as the oil lamps flickered against the cellar's mudbrick walls. **"This blade missed your liver by the width of a date seed. Allah grants you another dawn."** 

Outside, the call to Maghrib prayer echoed through the streets—a sound that masked the groans beneath the apothecary shop. 

**Scene 2: The Price of Silence** 

*Above Ground: "The Verdant Fig" Apothecary* 

Hayyan emerged from the hidden trapdoor, wiping blood from his hands with a rag soaked in **vinegar**. His wife Layla stood frozen by the shop's cedarwood counter, her knuckles pressed to her mouth. 

**"Soldiers,"** she whispered. **"Two at the spice market asking about 'the healer who mends rebels.'"** 

Hayyan's gaze darted to the courtyard where their four-year-old son Jabir played with **copper scales**, stacking dried figs like mountains. 

**"We knew this day would come,"** Hayyan said, crushing **fenugreek seeds** with sudden violence. **"Tell them I treat fevers and saddle sores—nothing more."** 

Layla seized his arm, her voice breaking: 

**"Hayyan, listen! Umar's son was taken yesterday. They poured boiling oil down his throat for hiding insurgents!"** 

Hayyan cupped her face, smelling the fear beneath her rosewater perfume. 

**"Then we pray they never learn what lies beneath our son's sleeping mat."** 

**Scene 3: The Underground Network** 

*Cellar — Night* 

Three rebels huddled around a brass brazier, their shadows leaping like jinn on the walls. Maps of Damascus and Baghdad lay unfurled beside jars of **nux vomica** poison and **white hellebore**. 

**"The Umayyad tax caravan reaches Kufa in three days,"** hissed Khalid, a former silk merchant missing two fingers. **"Fifty chests of silver—enough to arm five hundred men."** 

Hayyan stirred a foul-smelling paste of **arsenic** and **beetle wings**—an ointment for festering wounds. **"And how many more will die extracting it? Last week's 'ambush' left seventeen brothers rotting in the sun."** 

A gaunt scholar named Yusuf raised a trembling hand: 

**"The Caliph's new decree orders the execution of anyone possessing Greek texts. They burned Ali's library yesterday. Even Euclid's geometry is now heresy."** 

Hayyan slammed his mortar down, making the rebels jump: 

**"You speak of silver and scrolls while Zayd bleeds out on my table? This rebellion needs medicine before swords!"** 

**Scene 4: The Healer's Lesson** 

*Jabir's Bedchamber — Dawn* 

Hayyan lifted his sleeping son onto his lap beside an open manuscript. Moonlight fell on diagrams of **human veins** copied from Galen—defaced with Umayyad orders. 

**"Wake, little falcon,"** Hayyan whispered, guiding Jabir's small finger across a sketch of the heart. **"This is the *qalb*—where courage lives. Remember its shape."** 

Jabir's eyes widened at the crimson illustration. **"Is it... like pomegranate seeds, Baba?"** 

Hayyan smiled grimly. **"Exactly. And just as easily crushed."** He unfolded a tiny parchment hidden in the binding—a list of rebel safehouses written in **acacia sap ink** (visible only when heated). 

**"If soldiers come, run to Uncle Rafiq's date press. Ask for 'honey for the queen bee.' Can you remember?"** 

Jabir nodded, tracing the heart diagram with solemn devotion. **"Is Mama scared?"** 

**"Of course not,"** Hayyan lied, tucking a **garlic clove** amulet around the boy's neck. **"Fear is a poison. Garlic purifies the blood... and courage purifies the soul."** 

**Scene 5: The Raid** 

*The Verdant Fig — Noon* 

It began with a crash. Umayyad soldiers in **iron-plated vests** kicked down the door, scattering jars of saffron and turmeric like golden blood across the floor. 

**"Where is the traitor Hayyan?"** roared the captain, shoving Layla against a shelf of glass vials. 

Hayyan stepped forward, hands raised. **"I am but a humble seller of tonics, Captain. My license is signed by the Emir himself—"** 

The captain backhanded him, splitting his lip. **"We found Greek filth in Ali's house! They say *you* taught him!"** 

*Clink.* A soldier kicked over Jabir's copper scales. The boy whimpered, clutching his garlic charm. 

**"Leave my son out of this!"** Layla cried. 

The captain's eyes narrowed. He grabbed a jar of **mercury sulphide**. **"A humble tonic-seller needs cinnabar? This is for forging gold—or poisons."** 

**Scene 6: The Choice** 

*Cellar Entrance* 

A wet cough echoed from the trapdoor beneath the fig-wood cabinet. Zayd. 

The captain froze, hand on his sword. **"What was that?"** 

Hayyan moved with desperate speed— 

- **Step 1:** He "stumbled" against a shelf of **lamp oil** 

- **Step 2:** His elbow "knocked" a brazier onto spilled **sulfur powder** 

- **Step 3:** Yellow smoke exploded through the shop 

**"Fire in the name of Allah!"** Hayyan screamed as acrid clouds billowed. **"Run, Layla! Take Jabir!"** 

**Scene 7: The Alchemist's Sacrifice** 

*Street Outside* 

Layla fled with Jabir as soldiers dragged Hayyan into the sunlight. The captain pressed a dagger to his throat. 

**"Who do you heal underground?"** 

Hayyan spat blood onto the man's boots. **"Men who'll cut out your heart before you hear them whisper."** 

Behind them, the apothecary erupted in flames—Greek manuscripts, rebel maps, and jars of priceless medicine vanishing in the blaze. Hayyan smiled. 

**"Burn me. Burn my shop. But you'll never burn what matters."** His eyes locked with Jabir's across the street. **"Knowledge survives."** 

The dagger pressed deeper— 

**"Where are the others?"** 

**"In the shadows,"** Hayyan whispered. **"Waiting."** 

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