Chapter 433: The Sultan's Falsehood and Truth (Part 2)

Chapter 433: Chapter 308: The Sultan’s Falsehood and Truth (Part 2)

After the besiegers promised to protect the lives and property of the city’s residents, the Nobility of Mosul quickly surrendered. But what is an invader’s promise worth?

When the Seljuk Army swarmed into the city, Tughrul wanted to unleash his men upon the streets and markets. Kutalmish, however, disagreed. He wished for Ramadan to be properly respected; a city of Islam should not be plundered during the holy month of fasting.

Thus, the people of Mosul bought themselves some time. But Tughrul did not stand his army down; he was merely holding back, waiting for Ramadan to end. The city’s residents had no hope of escaping his clutches.

The citizens learned of the two brothers’ argument. They knew that at the start of the next month, they still could not escape a fate of rape, plunder, and slaughter. A great fear filled their hearts, but what was worse was the daily humiliation of awaiting the inevitable.

The shops on the streets were all empty. The men hid underground while their wives and daughters watched them weep for their powerlessness. But what could they do? Where could they flee? Which road could they take? Invaders were everywhere. Soldiers with braided hair lay in ambush in the great square’s market, in every district inside and outside the city, and near Buerent Gate. They were drunk, looking for any chance to extort or plunder. Hordes of undisciplined troops also frequently ran off to harass the villagers in neighboring hamlets.

Normally, people looked forward to Ramadan ending quickly, eager for the joyous celebration of feasting and drinking to arrive. But that year, it was the exact opposite. People prayed that Ramadan would never end, and that Eid al-Fitr would never come.

And so, when people glimpsed the new Crescent moon, not a single person cheered and tore into a leg of lamb. Instead, the entire city was like a fattened sheep awaiting slaughter.

On the eve of Eid al-Fitr, a night when all wishes are meant to be granted, thousands of families were instead overcome with sorrow and tears. They prayed ceaselessly in the vulnerable shelters of the Mosques and before the tombs of Saints.

In the castle, the two Seljuk brothers were locked in a furious argument. Tughrul roared that his men had gone months without pay. The only reason they were willing to fight, he said, was his promise that they could do as they pleased in this wealthy city. Now, they were growing restless and on the verge of mutiny. Tughrul himself feared he could not control them for much longer.

But the merciful and scholarly Kutalmish insisted on another perspective:

“We have only just begun our campaign. There are still many cities to conquer, like Isfahan, Ruyi, Great Brij, and Baghdad. If we break our promise and plunder Mosul after it has surrendered, no other city will ever open its gates to us, and no garrison will ever surrender.”

“This isn’t just about plunder; it’s about our honor and our reputation! If we lose those, our conquests will grind to a halt!”

“And if we lose our army? If our men desert us, how will we conquer those cities you dream of? Even our most loyal soldiers are starting to complain and threaten us!”

Tughrul roared back at Kutalmish in frustration.

The two brothers were surrounded by their lieutenants and tribal chieftains, all of whom unanimously sided with Tughrul.

Emboldened by their support, Tughrul decided to end the argument:

“We’ve said enough. I’m going to tell my men they are free to do as they wish in this city. If you want to restrain your own men, go right ahead! We’ll each do as we see fit.”

Caught in a dilemma, Kutalmish stood silent and motionless. Then, suddenly, he sprang to his feet and snatched a dagger.

Tughrul scoffed. No one knew what to do. ‘Perhaps,’ they thought, ‘as is the custom, the Seljuk brothers should be left to settle their disagreement with blood.’

Kutalmish cried out:

“Brother, I cannot force you to obey me, nor can I restrain your soldiers. But if you give that order, I will plunge this dagger into my own heart.”

As he spoke, he gripped the dagger’s hilt with both hands, pointing the blade down at his own chest. His younger brother hesitated for a moment, then finally walked over, opened his arms, and embraced him tightly, promising not to go against his wishes.

And so, Mosul was spared. But the great terror of that Ramadan was forever seared into the minds of its people, impossible to forget.

…..

“Those are the Seljuk Turks,” Turandot concluded. “At once uneducated bandits and enlightened Monarchs, capable of the most despicable deeds and the most sublime gestures. Both Kutalmish Beg and Tughrul Beg possessed the extraordinary character required of founding rulers.”

“When I was three, he and his brother Tughrul conquered Isfahan. When I was ten, they conquered Baghdad, declared themselves protectors of the Caliph, and assumed the title of ‘Sultan—King of the East and West.'”

“At the age of seventy, Tughrul even married the only daughter of the ‘King of the Faithful.'”

As Turandot recounted these events, a sense of admiration, even awe, unconsciously crept into her tone.

“And yet, for all his mercy and justice, Kutalmish never won the throne of the Empire,” Eric remarked.