Chapter 1023: The New Sassan King

Chapter 1023 -245: The New Sassan King

Losa gave a noncommittal smile. “Since Bahram still harbors other designs, if I summon him to audience, how could he possibly come? It would instead force him into a corner, binding the entire Tarsus to him.”

“I want a Tarsus that remains whole, not a heap of ruins.”

Mustafa gave a bitter smile. “You are esteeming Bahram’s resolve far too highly.”

“I have watched this child grow up since he was small. He excels at calculation and is lacking in decision. Faced with Your threat, he is both resentful and devoid of the resolve to stake everything on a single throw. Unless you set the opportunity right before his eyes, he will never take that step.”

He said earnestly, “When the usurper Quchlug of Kara Khitay sought aid, Bahram hesitated, unwilling to dispatch his main force in support. Only after he was swept aside by the Tatars like leaves in an autumn gale did Bahram hurriedly muster an army, seeking to join with the Khwarezmians.”

“Yet even when allied with the Khwarezmians, he still refused to commit his full strength, causing half of Persia’s military might to be lost. The remaining half was then powerless to withstand the Tatars and suffered another crushing defeat.”

“Either he should have held firmly to Persia, or met the enemy beyond the borders; yet every time he chose wrongly, bringing about the collapse of a millennium-old dynasty in a single stroke.”

Mustafa said solemnly, “Tell me, how could such a man ever steel himself, when Your Giant Dragon is aloft and Your armies stand before his gates, to fight you with the courage to burn jade and stone together?”

Losa inclined his head slightly. “You do understand him.”

With that, he no longer spoke of any summons to Bahram, but instead turned and said, “The Tatars already stand before Hoveizan. Mustafa, can you get in touch with the Governor of Hoveizan now?”

“Of course, Your Majesty. The Rumi Governor of Hoveizan is of a staunch disposition; persuading him to surrender will not be easy. Yet by the same token, he will not, like the Governor of Hamadan, lightly submit to the Tatars.”

Mustafa was not surprised by this. The pleas for aid from Hamadan and Hoveizan had both reached the Sassanid Court, but Tarsus had no strength to render them any support; the letters were merely set aside and ignored, leaving them to fend for themselves.

“Then pass a message to the Governor of Hoveizan for me. Tell him to hold out as best he can. Reinforcements will arrive on the morrow.”

Mustafa hurriedly bowed low. “Your Majesty is magnanimous. It will not be long before Saracens, Persians, Kurds, and Armenians alike gladly kneel before you with tribute in their hands.”

Losa had heard such flattery until his ears were calloused. He waved his hand impatiently. “Spare me this useless talk, Mustafa. Since you have written to me in secret, you must already understand how I conduct myself. Now I am about to lead the main force to clash with the Tatars, to hold firm Tarsus and Baghdad, and shatter every petty rebel ambition. Can you be certain of this?”

“This old servant will exhaust all his strength to help you secure the rear, turning the twin cities of Tai and Ba into your source of troops and supplies.”

“Then kneel and swear to me, by the Holy Fire.”

Losa nodded slightly. “I will leave Kusru behind. You shall assist him in guarding Tarsus, putting stability above all. I will leave ten thousand infantry at your disposal. In addition, the eight thousand garrison troops in Baghdad will likewise be placed under your command. But the ten thousand of the Undead Army I will take with me in their entirety.”

Though the Shadow of Darkness could not reach as far as the distant Tatar Grassland, it had already seeped into the Persian Plateau along the trade caravans, and together with the communications system built upon Losa’s Holy Edict Resonance…

Losa’s intelligence regarding the Tatars might now be more comprehensive than that of the people of Tarsus.

Mustafa hurriedly bowed in thanks. “I thank Your Majesty for your trust. I will, without fail, do all in my power to assist Prince Kusru.”

The city gates swung wide.

Crusader infantry, bearing banners of many colors, slowly marched into Tarsus.

The doors along the street lay tightly shut. Countless eyes peered out from the shadows, silently watching these invaders, filled with fear and confusion within. Under the rule of the Sassanid Dynasty they had lived for a thousand years; never had they imagined that in just a few months the dynasty would collapse.

As for Losa himself and the Crusader Cavalry, they had no intention of entering the city at all.

He gazed long and deep at this majestic city, then turned to Jeanne and said, “The army I leave in your hands. Ladon and I will go on ahead.”

In the sky, the Three-headed Demon Dragon plunged downwards. A vast shadow swept swiftly across, and in an instant the back of the eclipsed sun was empty of all riders.

…

At this moment in Hoveizan.

The surrounding vassal villages and forts had all fallen. Flame and thick smoke drove the hiding populace onto the main road and, under the terror of Tatar Cavalry blades, they were herded towards Hoveizan.

The Tatar vanguard had seized the moment just after dawn to pour forth from the Zagros Mountain Pass, launching a surprise strike on the strongpoints around Hoveizan, and the effect was outstanding. The garrisons in these places were utterly incapable of impeding the Tatar Iron Cavalry.

Hoveizan stood on the alluvial plain of the lower reaches of the Karun River, with fertile soil and abundant grain. It was, together with Hamadan, one of the throats guarding the Zagros Mountain Pass. Seizing this city was of vital importance to Tatar supply lines and their next advance.

Struck without warning, Hoveizan was in utter chaos.

Though Hoveizan’s location was of crucial strategic import, it was after all only the secondary administrative center of Khuzestan Province, with a population of but thirty thousand—no more than a medium-sized city. Its garrison totaled no more than five thousand.

Even when, as the Tatars neared, five thousand town Militia had been hastily levied and trained, the sum was still only ten thousand. At a time when even Hamadan, with “seven city gates, markets stretching three li, and more than a hundred baths,” had surrendered without a fight, how could they possibly summon the will to resist to the bitter end?

“Lord Governor, the Tatars are upon us—what are we to do now?”

“Surrender, Lord Governor!”

The city’s notable figures thronged before the Rumi Governor. One man, face full of terror, said, “Hamadan, Isfahan—these great cities have already fallen into enemy hands. With just our few people here, how are we supposed to hold off those Tatars, savage as wolves and jackals?”

The Rumi Governor cast a long, deep look at these cowards whose faces were masked with panic, and roared, “Silence! Have you thought this through? Hamadan submitted because it is wealthy, and could endure the Tatars’ stripping of flesh from bone. But we? Hoveizan is only a small city. The Tatars must replenish the needs of their army, feeding tens of thousands of troops and hundreds of thousands of beasts. Even if they hollow out the entire city, it will still not be enough!”

“Now, resistance may mean death—but surrender does not necessarily mean life!”

“Rather than laying down our weapons and waiting to be slaughtered, I would sooner take up arms and fight to the death. At the very least I will not fail the honor of my lineage nor the dignity of a Warrior, and I will let the Tatars know that we Persian lads are absolutely not some bunch of weaklings to be bullied at will.”

These words at once stirred the courage in many hearts.

“Exactly, fight them!”

“No one is going to take the land our forefathers have lived on for generations!”

Most of the leading figures in Baghdad belong to the urban citizenry—wealthy merchants and master artisans—who often lack courage, whereas the Chiefs of Hoveyzan are mostly military nobles, and in their bones there is still a surge of blood and valor.

“You mustn’t! The Tatars are so brutal that if we resist, they will slaughter the whole city. Surrendering can at least guarantee some will survive. Right now even the Court is hard-pressed to fend for itself—why must Lord Governor still continue to risk his life for the Court?”

“Instead of making a futile stand, better to let the Tatars drive straight through and fight the Franks besieging Baghdad to the death. Would that not be a fine thing?”

There were still some muttering on and on, but in the blink of an eye a flash of blood streaked past and a head flew up.

The Governor of Rumi, face full of killing intent, lifted a severed head and cursed furiously: “Brothers, are we fighting for the Sassan Court? We fight for the Holy Fire, for the land our forefathers have lived on for generations, for the dignity of Fire Worshipers and Warriors. Since when does this world permit a man to sell out his own subjects and help invaders flay his own people to the bone? Whoever dares to do such a thing, I will be the first to spare him not!”

“That’s right, fight to the end!”

“For the Holy Fire, we’ll fight these Heretics who do not follow the Book to the bitter end! Even if we fight to the last man, we will never surrender!”

Just then, someone outside walked in and reminded him: “Lord Governor, Master Muwahid says he has received news from the Court!”

“News from the Court?”

The Governor of Rumi was somewhat taken aback. Tarsus and Baghdad were on the verge of falling; the Court was already struggling to fend for itself. At such a time, it could hardly be agreeing to their plea for aid and sending troops to relieve them, could it?

The only possibility, rather, was that they were being ordered to abandon Hoveyzan and return to the capital to serve the King.

He kept his face cold and said in a deep voice: “What is there for the Court to say? Tell Master Muwahid that unless it is truly urgent, he need not speak of it.”

The messenger hesitated, then still said: “Since Master Muwahid thinks it is of use, you had best hear it.”

Rumi waved his hand with some impatience: “Then let Master Muwahid come in.”

Seeing the white-bearded old man enter draped in the Vestment Robe of Fire Worship, Rumi still rose to greet him, lowered his voice, leaned to his ear and said: “Master, do you not know we are in a moment of dire peril? Must you insist on speaking words that sap morale?”

Master Muwahid laughed and said: “How do you know they are words that sap morale? The Grand Vizier Mustafa has said we must hold fast; reinforcements are about to arrive.”

“Reinforcements?”

The Governor’s expression changed drastically: “At this moment, the Court can still send reinforcements? Have the Franks withdrawn?”

“The Franks have not withdrawn. The Grand Vizier says: ‘The Tatars are savage and brutal, without Book or Law, wolves at heart! Wherever they pass, all is laid waste: cities, palaces, holy temples are turned to rubble; believers slaughtered like cattle and sheep, sacred texts treated as weeds. They are the great enemy of all people of the Book under heaven.'”

“Now the Tatar armies press upon the Two Rivers. Though the Franks are foes, they are nonetheless willing to shelter us believers. The Grand Vizier asks that Governor Rumi, facing the spearpoint of the Tatars, must hold firm. You need only endure for half a day, and a Demon Dragon will soon fly to our aid.”

The Governor of Rumi said in disbelief: “From what Mustafa says, have we joined hands with the Franks?”

The Franks too are people of the Book. Under Sassan rule, the status of the Christians was originally quite high, second only to Fire Worshipers; it is only in recent years, amid ever more frenzied religious fervor, that they have suffered much oppression.

“It is not an alliance; the Court has already sued for submission to the Franks. Now both Baghdad and Tarsus are under Frankish rule.”

Hearing Master Muwahid say this, everyone at once fell into Silence.

“Lord Governor, the Tatars are powerful and their siegecraft is highly skilled. Since they entered Persia, how many mighty cities have they put to the torch? Relying on us alone, there is simply no way to withstand these wolves.”

“Now that the Franks are willing to unite with us, no matter what, we must first pass this hurdle before speaking of anything else.”

“Indeed, just as the Grand Vizier said, though the Franks are barbaric, they are after all people of the Book. I have been to Goodes; the Fire Worshipers there have not suffered much abuse. Their treatment is just like that of the Nestorianism believers who once lived under our rule.”

Everyone present was stirred.

The Franks, as enemies, are fearsome foes indeed; but if they stand on our side, a sense of safety descends at once.

They all feared that Rumi, this devout Ghazi Warrior, would refuse the aid of the Franks and act rashly. If he offended both sides in the process, everyone present would die without even a place for their ashes.

Rumi was silent for a long time, then could only say helplessly: “The Frankish Demon Dragon can really reach us in just half a day?”

Muwahid nodded: “Perhaps even sooner. The Frankish Emperor Losa will personally ride the Dragon and come.”

Rumi sighed grandly, his tone full of bitter irony: “So Losa really thinks he has become the new ruler of the Sassanid Dynasty? Your Majesty Bahram ignores us completely, yet this Heretic Monarch is quick enough to come.”

Having spoken, he suddenly rose to his feet.

“Gentlemen, you all heard, did you not? The new ruler will ride the Demon Dragon to us in less than half a day. Now get yourselves up onto the walls with me, and let’s fight these grassland savages to the death!”

The news that the new ruler would soon be riding the Demon Dragon to their aid quickly spread among the defenders. This undoubtedly boosted morale greatly, though the Hoveyzan garrison were all puzzled: since when had their own Sassan Royal Family produced a new ruler who could ride a Demon Dragon?