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Yep, Kibar isn't exactly well prepared for this. Those Bulanid descendents really don't deliver as their father, and it's questionable whether there will be many more chances to do so.
This, and he's got almost thirty years of experience by now. Even though he spent most of that time dabbling around, something has to catch on.
Chapter 46 – War never changes
Chapter 46 – War never changes
July 17, 895 AD
The attempted capture of the Bulanid Khan and the outbreak of the war surprised the Khazarian general staff, and it took several weeks to actually get the troops into position. Over the course of May and July, the horde was assembled and started its march into the Bulanid lands, while the army of Kibar decided to stay in Itil and raze the Bulçir camp, probably to get back at Khan Yilig and delay the inevitable clash. By now, the Khazarians had taken over the Bulanid capital encampment and advanced to Sarpa, right towards the Bulanid army. Here, the Khazarian brigades were supposed to join into one powerful army of 5000 warriors.
The Khazarian general staff had met in the command center. Khan Hezekiah and Tarkhan Ashina, who had lead the army through Tana. Guyug the Mongol and Baghathur, commanding the troops who had taken Azov. Marshal Itakh, who had not been personally leading troops, but arrived in Sarpa with a personal envoy a few days ago. Finally, Khagan Zachariah personally had again taken the chance to accompany what was probably the most important campaign in his reign – the recovery of his own fathers' lands.
Khan Itakh was just describing the further course of action.
"The Bulanid army has razed Itil, and our spies bring consistent reports of them moving into Manych as we speak. To that end, they have to cross the Volga – and that is harder than it sounds at this season. The river is at low tide, there are frequent shallows and the riverbanks are swampy. This all makes an unorganized retreat near impossible. Should they recognize danger early, they might still be able to call off the crossing – but once all their troops are across the river, there's hardly going to be a turning back for them. This means we have to time our own movements precisely to trap them.
We estimate the Bulanid horde to fully arrive in Manych in two, at most three days. Until then, we will stay put. We're lucky enough that they are moving toward us instead of playing cat and mouse. Patience is vital, and will be for this whole war. Yet as soon as they do arrive, we need to move out quickly. We will prepare everything in the coming days, so we are ready to move out the moment we need to. Each division's readiness will be the responsibility of its respective commander.
Khan Hezekiah, you will lead the horde from the center as usual." Hezekiah nodded. He wasn't as young and vivid as he used to, but he made up for that with experience. No one had lead the Khazarian horde into more battles and no one bested more men on the field.
"The left flank belongs to you, General Guyug." The Mongol took the command, dutiful as usual. He had turned up in Khazaria about fifteen years ago, orphaned by one of the countless skirmishes of the Eastern steppes that cost his father his land and his life. His mother managed to evacuate him to Khazaria where Gughlug, an old friend of hers, was a high-ranked army officer. Guyug was educated as a soldier and elisted into the army upon turning sixteen. He showed very talented and made his way up the ranks quickly, and in the wake of a restructuring of the general staff in preparation of the Georgian war he was made a Major. From then on, he had lead army divisions loyally and competent and thus become Hekeziah's right hand over the past years.
"As for the remaining division, the honor will go to the newest member of the command. Baghathur Ashina, son to Khagan Zachariah, will lead the right flank when the battle arises."
Baghathur tried his best to hide his triumph while Tarkhan looked like hit by lightning. He was still designated to take over the Khaganate, and now he should not take part in the big showdown? For years, he had been on the road with the troops who were now to head out – and that should be his reward? In the back of his head, Tarkhan knew that he would be spared great danger and a lot of risk – but what was he supposed to do when he wasn't with the army?
"Sir, this is...quite a surprise." exclaimed Tarkhan. "With all due respect, Baghathur has never lead an army into battle until now..."
"Well, there has to be a first time for everything" replied Itakh. "I can't remember that staffing decisions by superiors are up to debate, by the way. This is the Khazarian horde, not a bunch of raiders where people do as they please as long as the boss doesn't round them up." he added with a sinister expression.
Tarkhan passed his father a help-seeking gaze. "You might as well get used to answering to me, Khan Itakh. One day I'll be your superior."
Zachariah grinned. That was the spirit he expected. "He's right. And while I trust your capabilities and won't overrule any of your decisions, as the Khagan and supreme commander I decree that you owe Tarkhan an explanation!"
Itakh rolled his eyes. There was little sense in turning against the Khagan, but at least Tarkhan would regret this. "Fine. Here's your answer: Baghathur is more talented than you. He's done very well in deriving strategies and supervising recruits over the past months, and he deserves a chance. I also have less reason to suspect he's going to take off with his division and do as he pleases with the men under Khazarian banners. I thought I had been clear about that. Should the need arise to replace one of the commanders during the war, I assure you that you will get your opportunity, too. Mostly because I get you off my back that way, to be entirely honest."
Baghathur almost burst with pride. Tarkhan looked at the floor and silently cursed himself for speaking up in the first place. The court marshal humiliating him and asserting that his younger brother was the more capable commander, in front of the other generals and especially their father, was certainly not what he had been going for. At least he would stay with the troops for now. He could only hope word wouldn't spread too far among the soldiers.
In the evening, Khagan Zachariah held his speech to the soldiers before he and the marshal were to head back to Oleshye the morning after. Two days later, it was confirmed that the Bulanid army had crossed the Volga under sizeable difficulties. Everything was going as expected. The Khazarian army was sent into march.
July 29, 895 AD
It was a searing hot summer in the steppe, and the Khazarian troops regularly rode at night and took their breaks during the day. Their progress was satisfactory, and men and horses alike were thankful they could forgo moving in the worst heat. The scouting division had sent regular updates with little surprises – until today. Khan Hezekiah, who had just received one such update, called his fellows Guyug and Baghathur to his yurt.
"The scouts are suggesting that the Bulanid horde has never made an attempt to diverge from their course upon arriving in Manych. They keep marching straight into our direction. We are absolutely sure they know of our army coming by now – it's their own territory after all. What in Adonai's name might they be thinking? Any ideas?" an ill-tempered General Hezekiah asked his fellows and tried to ignore the pain that was plaguing his joints for days now.
Guyug and Baghathur looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Finally Bagathur spoke up, "Sir, all I can say is that no matter how confident the Bulanid pretend to be, their troops are still clearly inferior to ours. They haven't been able to properly refill their ranks after the attack on Bulçir, which leaves them at one and a half thousand men short of our army."
"We can't know if they have something in the back of their hand. It might be better to call off the march and at least make the best of the defensive positions", ejaculated Hezekiah. It was tangible that something wasn't right with him. The General had never been reckless, but now he seemed tentative and insecure, as if heavily burdened by something.
Guyug raised his eyebrows. "We set the situation up the way we did for a reason, I believe. If we turn around now, the Bulanid might be able to escape. Maybe that's exactly what they want – try to make us stop and hesitate. They have nothing to lose after all."
"Also, while Tarkhan liked to defy clear orders", Baghathur added with a hint of malice, "I'd rather not go against Itakh's commands the first time he actually gives me responsibility. I am with Guyug. We should pull through and strike upon them, as was the plan from the beginning. The only way to lose this war is to let them force their strategy upon us."
Hezekiah looked at them and after a few seconds of silence replied: "You're probably right. We ought to not overthink this. We're outnumbering the Bulanid, and our men are in better shape. Save for a surprise effect, they have nothing on us." He raised from his seat, clearly struggling. Guyug and Baghathur looked to the floor. "We'll continue our way to Manych."
The young commanders saluted and were just about to head out when Hezekiah added: "Wait a moment. I want you to know that you're good men and leaders. I'm proud of both of you."
"Thanks, General." was all Baghathur had to say. What is up with him? Guyug nodded slightly and both men saluted once again.
"And now get some rest. We've still got at least two weeks of marching ahead of us."
August 15, 895 AD
It was early in the morning when the scouts reported to Khan Hezekiah that the Bulanid horde was in striking range. The Bulanid had tried to make their escape from the Manych region once their now obvious ruse showed ineffective, but the Khazarian generals were prepared for that and systematically cut off the possible routes, further and further constricting the enemy. Today, their battue had come to an end. Orders were immediately given out to immediately prepare an assault. There was no time to be lost.
The Bulanid apparently accepted there was no way to avoid an open encounter with the Khazarian horde anymore. In the vast open steppes, it wasn't hard to determine when an army of five thousand men was nearing. On the other hand, there was little possibility to occupy favourable ground in advance, thus the Bulanid horde had only been able to lightly fortify their position and there would be nowhere to hide should they be overrun. At least they had been able to take over a range of rolling hills that could pose a slight advantage for the archers.
The brigades were in position for the first showdown of the Bulanid war. Three blocks of riders, grouped in rows widening from the front to the back and with generous gaps between the resulting wedge formations to ensure manoeuverability. In total, the horde took up over 500 metres of width. The sight was intimidating to Baghathur, who for the first time found himself at the forefront of the full Khazarian force. Now he fully grasped the responsibility placed upon him. Two years ago he had been a squire, and now these men were relying on his decisions. What if things go wrong? Am I really up to this task? Maybe I should report to Hezekiah, find a replacement. There have to be more experienced people...
Before Baghathur's brief instant of panic could manifest, his adjutant reported that the order to march was imminent. He shook off his thoughts and raised his voice.
"We're about to move. Each of you knows what we are heading for. We're not to yield until all Bulanid warriors are put out of action – be it captured, in full flight or dead. Be patient and disciplined, and the day will be ours. Blood and glory await us! For Khazaria!"
The last part had not come across as powerful as the young General wanted it to, but it seemed to be sufficient and 1500 men responded to his call. Seconds later, the horn sounded and the flanks st themselves into motion. The center was to follow with a small delay. The first arrows flew through the air, but only hit the ground. The Khazarian archers, grouped in wide rows at the back of their brigades, responded without slowing their ride much. The battle of Manych had started.
The Khazarian horde took up speed quickly, while the Bulanid seemed to take a more defensive approach. It would still be some time before the armies would clash, but they were already in range of the composite bows that were common for the steppes and a volley flew towards them. The Bulanid archers had slightly higher ground, but Hezekiah managed to evade the majority of their arrows with some adept maneuvers. Baghathur, whose troops were now riding rather close to Hezekiah's, followed his example, yet the salve still took its toll on the approaching Khazarians. At the same time, their own archers were now close enough and took up fire.
The air was filled with whirring wood and metal as eight hundred men on each side took turns sending out arrow volleys. Hundreds of men and horses were hit on each side, but the Khazarian horde showed no sign of slowing. The Bulanid flanks were already visibly struggling to keep their ranks closed when the armies were about to clash.
The Khazarian battle plan for the impending melee was to keep up full speed and ride into their enemy with concentrated troops, using their momentum to amplify the damage. The outnumbered Bulanid couldn't withstand forever. With them already weakened by the archers, there was no reason to hesitate and all three commanders ordered the charge. It was only now that Guyug recognized the troops opposing his flank were left without a central command. They must be in bad shape if they can't even muster three men for a war that threatens their existence, he thought to himself. Then the armies collided.
The Bulanid army withstood the first attack wave, mostly because they had decided to not counter the head-on assault but to avoid as much of it as possible, dispersing their own brigades into smaller units. These gangs did then prod at the flanks and the rear guard of the Khazarian armies charging through, effectively causing more damage than they sustained. This smart decision still served them little, considering how many more Khazarians there still were. It was obvious that at this pace the Bulanid horde would bleed out quicker.
The Khazarian horde regrouped for the second attack, still under heavy arrow fire. This time, the enemies' flanks could not withstand the impact of Guyug's and Baghathur's forces. In quick succession, they fell apart and into flight. The center was suddenly surrounded from three sides and taking heavy losses.
It took the unlucky remaining Bulanid troops some time – and many lives – until they were able to retreat. When the Khazarians called off the pursuit, the soil was drenched with blood and littered with bodies. The battle had not taken more than an hour all in all, but almost 1900 men were killed, incapacitated or taken prisoner.
When it was sure that there were no more hostile forces left, the victorious Khazarian soldiers quickly had to discern that Khan Hezekiah was missing. The usual search for survivors was immediately expanded and priority given to the retrieval of the General. Anxious minutes followed, until word spread that Hezekiah had been found – alive and seemingly unscathed. Yet there appeared to be a problem. Guyug and Baghathur immediately ordered their sergeants to organize the retreat to the camp and rode off.
When they arrived shortly after, they found Hezekiah leaning on two men's shoulders, his face contorted with pain. His armor was untouched though, and no blood was to be seen.
"What's happened?" asked Baghathur and alighted from his horse. "Have you been injured?"
Hezekiah panted heavily, and one of the soldiers propping him answered instead. "It does not seem so. We found him lying to the floor, stating he couldn't move or get up."
"Yes...and I told you to get me on my horse and back to the camp....not to get even more people to stand around here!", Hezekiah groaned. "When they were retreating...I felt a sudden pain in my back and couldn't....move anymore. I fell off my horse...but it's nothing...it's happened before and will subside...soon."
No one said anything for a few seconds until Guyug broke the silence. "Getting on horseback doesn't seem like the best idea for now, General."
"Oh, cut it. I'm fine."
Now Baghathur spoke up. "I'm also thinking that a barrow – or the back of a strong soldier - might be the better alternative. I guess you'll agree, General, that everything is better than staying here and debating."
"No, I don't agree. I'm feeling much better already. I'm going to get my horse now." With that, he wanted to leave the soldiers standing and walk to his horse, only to give way after two steps with a scream. Luckily, the men had the presence of mind to catch him before he hit the floor again.
Everyone was taken aback. "Get me...to my tent. I don't mind how..." Khan Hezekiah pressed through his teeth.
On their way to the camp, Baghathur turned to Guyug. "We need to report this to the Marshal immediately. And a physician, as it's obviously not nothing."
When Bars the medicus, a local from a small village near the Volga, arrived late in the evening, he found Hezekiah still in full body armour. The Khan had refused to let anyone help him get rid of it all day. Yet upon being told that nothing was to be done in this state, this time he didn't try to make a point. When Hezekiah's squire finally took off his boots and bracers, Bars was shocked. "Sir, how long have you been running around with this?"
Hezekiah didn't answer. The rest of the examination was a quick and quiet affair.
Bars later reported to the other generals that Hezekiah was suffering from Gout in an advanced stage. Until further notice, Hezekiah would be bedridden – if he was ever going to get better at all.
"It's close to a miracle that he's been holding out this long", the medicus closed his report.
"There are no miracles in the steppes", Tarkhan replied. "Willpower and sense of duty kept him going."
Everyone lowered their heads.
July 17, 895 AD
The attempted capture of the Bulanid Khan and the outbreak of the war surprised the Khazarian general staff, and it took several weeks to actually get the troops into position. Over the course of May and July, the horde was assembled and started its march into the Bulanid lands, while the army of Kibar decided to stay in Itil and raze the Bulçir camp, probably to get back at Khan Yilig and delay the inevitable clash. By now, the Khazarians had taken over the Bulanid capital encampment and advanced to Sarpa, right towards the Bulanid army. Here, the Khazarian brigades were supposed to join into one powerful army of 5000 warriors.
The Khazarian general staff had met in the command center. Khan Hezekiah and Tarkhan Ashina, who had lead the army through Tana. Guyug the Mongol and Baghathur, commanding the troops who had taken Azov. Marshal Itakh, who had not been personally leading troops, but arrived in Sarpa with a personal envoy a few days ago. Finally, Khagan Zachariah personally had again taken the chance to accompany what was probably the most important campaign in his reign – the recovery of his own fathers' lands.
Khan Itakh was just describing the further course of action.
"The Bulanid army has razed Itil, and our spies bring consistent reports of them moving into Manych as we speak. To that end, they have to cross the Volga – and that is harder than it sounds at this season. The river is at low tide, there are frequent shallows and the riverbanks are swampy. This all makes an unorganized retreat near impossible. Should they recognize danger early, they might still be able to call off the crossing – but once all their troops are across the river, there's hardly going to be a turning back for them. This means we have to time our own movements precisely to trap them.
We estimate the Bulanid horde to fully arrive in Manych in two, at most three days. Until then, we will stay put. We're lucky enough that they are moving toward us instead of playing cat and mouse. Patience is vital, and will be for this whole war. Yet as soon as they do arrive, we need to move out quickly. We will prepare everything in the coming days, so we are ready to move out the moment we need to. Each division's readiness will be the responsibility of its respective commander.
Khan Hezekiah, you will lead the horde from the center as usual." Hezekiah nodded. He wasn't as young and vivid as he used to, but he made up for that with experience. No one had lead the Khazarian horde into more battles and no one bested more men on the field.
"The left flank belongs to you, General Guyug." The Mongol took the command, dutiful as usual. He had turned up in Khazaria about fifteen years ago, orphaned by one of the countless skirmishes of the Eastern steppes that cost his father his land and his life. His mother managed to evacuate him to Khazaria where Gughlug, an old friend of hers, was a high-ranked army officer. Guyug was educated as a soldier and elisted into the army upon turning sixteen. He showed very talented and made his way up the ranks quickly, and in the wake of a restructuring of the general staff in preparation of the Georgian war he was made a Major. From then on, he had lead army divisions loyally and competent and thus become Hekeziah's right hand over the past years.
"As for the remaining division, the honor will go to the newest member of the command. Baghathur Ashina, son to Khagan Zachariah, will lead the right flank when the battle arises."
Baghathur tried his best to hide his triumph while Tarkhan looked like hit by lightning. He was still designated to take over the Khaganate, and now he should not take part in the big showdown? For years, he had been on the road with the troops who were now to head out – and that should be his reward? In the back of his head, Tarkhan knew that he would be spared great danger and a lot of risk – but what was he supposed to do when he wasn't with the army?
"Sir, this is...quite a surprise." exclaimed Tarkhan. "With all due respect, Baghathur has never lead an army into battle until now..."
"Well, there has to be a first time for everything" replied Itakh. "I can't remember that staffing decisions by superiors are up to debate, by the way. This is the Khazarian horde, not a bunch of raiders where people do as they please as long as the boss doesn't round them up." he added with a sinister expression.
Tarkhan passed his father a help-seeking gaze. "You might as well get used to answering to me, Khan Itakh. One day I'll be your superior."
Zachariah grinned. That was the spirit he expected. "He's right. And while I trust your capabilities and won't overrule any of your decisions, as the Khagan and supreme commander I decree that you owe Tarkhan an explanation!"
Itakh rolled his eyes. There was little sense in turning against the Khagan, but at least Tarkhan would regret this. "Fine. Here's your answer: Baghathur is more talented than you. He's done very well in deriving strategies and supervising recruits over the past months, and he deserves a chance. I also have less reason to suspect he's going to take off with his division and do as he pleases with the men under Khazarian banners. I thought I had been clear about that. Should the need arise to replace one of the commanders during the war, I assure you that you will get your opportunity, too. Mostly because I get you off my back that way, to be entirely honest."
Baghathur almost burst with pride. Tarkhan looked at the floor and silently cursed himself for speaking up in the first place. The court marshal humiliating him and asserting that his younger brother was the more capable commander, in front of the other generals and especially their father, was certainly not what he had been going for. At least he would stay with the troops for now. He could only hope word wouldn't spread too far among the soldiers.
In the evening, Khagan Zachariah held his speech to the soldiers before he and the marshal were to head back to Oleshye the morning after. Two days later, it was confirmed that the Bulanid army had crossed the Volga under sizeable difficulties. Everything was going as expected. The Khazarian army was sent into march.
July 29, 895 AD
It was a searing hot summer in the steppe, and the Khazarian troops regularly rode at night and took their breaks during the day. Their progress was satisfactory, and men and horses alike were thankful they could forgo moving in the worst heat. The scouting division had sent regular updates with little surprises – until today. Khan Hezekiah, who had just received one such update, called his fellows Guyug and Baghathur to his yurt.
"The scouts are suggesting that the Bulanid horde has never made an attempt to diverge from their course upon arriving in Manych. They keep marching straight into our direction. We are absolutely sure they know of our army coming by now – it's their own territory after all. What in Adonai's name might they be thinking? Any ideas?" an ill-tempered General Hezekiah asked his fellows and tried to ignore the pain that was plaguing his joints for days now.
Guyug and Baghathur looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Finally Bagathur spoke up, "Sir, all I can say is that no matter how confident the Bulanid pretend to be, their troops are still clearly inferior to ours. They haven't been able to properly refill their ranks after the attack on Bulçir, which leaves them at one and a half thousand men short of our army."
"We can't know if they have something in the back of their hand. It might be better to call off the march and at least make the best of the defensive positions", ejaculated Hezekiah. It was tangible that something wasn't right with him. The General had never been reckless, but now he seemed tentative and insecure, as if heavily burdened by something.
Guyug raised his eyebrows. "We set the situation up the way we did for a reason, I believe. If we turn around now, the Bulanid might be able to escape. Maybe that's exactly what they want – try to make us stop and hesitate. They have nothing to lose after all."
"Also, while Tarkhan liked to defy clear orders", Baghathur added with a hint of malice, "I'd rather not go against Itakh's commands the first time he actually gives me responsibility. I am with Guyug. We should pull through and strike upon them, as was the plan from the beginning. The only way to lose this war is to let them force their strategy upon us."
Hezekiah looked at them and after a few seconds of silence replied: "You're probably right. We ought to not overthink this. We're outnumbering the Bulanid, and our men are in better shape. Save for a surprise effect, they have nothing on us." He raised from his seat, clearly struggling. Guyug and Baghathur looked to the floor. "We'll continue our way to Manych."
The young commanders saluted and were just about to head out when Hezekiah added: "Wait a moment. I want you to know that you're good men and leaders. I'm proud of both of you."
"Thanks, General." was all Baghathur had to say. What is up with him? Guyug nodded slightly and both men saluted once again.
"And now get some rest. We've still got at least two weeks of marching ahead of us."
August 15, 895 AD
It was early in the morning when the scouts reported to Khan Hezekiah that the Bulanid horde was in striking range. The Bulanid had tried to make their escape from the Manych region once their now obvious ruse showed ineffective, but the Khazarian generals were prepared for that and systematically cut off the possible routes, further and further constricting the enemy. Today, their battue had come to an end. Orders were immediately given out to immediately prepare an assault. There was no time to be lost.
The Bulanid apparently accepted there was no way to avoid an open encounter with the Khazarian horde anymore. In the vast open steppes, it wasn't hard to determine when an army of five thousand men was nearing. On the other hand, there was little possibility to occupy favourable ground in advance, thus the Bulanid horde had only been able to lightly fortify their position and there would be nowhere to hide should they be overrun. At least they had been able to take over a range of rolling hills that could pose a slight advantage for the archers.
The brigades were in position for the first showdown of the Bulanid war. Three blocks of riders, grouped in rows widening from the front to the back and with generous gaps between the resulting wedge formations to ensure manoeuverability. In total, the horde took up over 500 metres of width. The sight was intimidating to Baghathur, who for the first time found himself at the forefront of the full Khazarian force. Now he fully grasped the responsibility placed upon him. Two years ago he had been a squire, and now these men were relying on his decisions. What if things go wrong? Am I really up to this task? Maybe I should report to Hezekiah, find a replacement. There have to be more experienced people...
Before Baghathur's brief instant of panic could manifest, his adjutant reported that the order to march was imminent. He shook off his thoughts and raised his voice.
"We're about to move. Each of you knows what we are heading for. We're not to yield until all Bulanid warriors are put out of action – be it captured, in full flight or dead. Be patient and disciplined, and the day will be ours. Blood and glory await us! For Khazaria!"
The last part had not come across as powerful as the young General wanted it to, but it seemed to be sufficient and 1500 men responded to his call. Seconds later, the horn sounded and the flanks st themselves into motion. The center was to follow with a small delay. The first arrows flew through the air, but only hit the ground. The Khazarian archers, grouped in wide rows at the back of their brigades, responded without slowing their ride much. The battle of Manych had started.
The Khazarian horde took up speed quickly, while the Bulanid seemed to take a more defensive approach. It would still be some time before the armies would clash, but they were already in range of the composite bows that were common for the steppes and a volley flew towards them. The Bulanid archers had slightly higher ground, but Hezekiah managed to evade the majority of their arrows with some adept maneuvers. Baghathur, whose troops were now riding rather close to Hezekiah's, followed his example, yet the salve still took its toll on the approaching Khazarians. At the same time, their own archers were now close enough and took up fire.
The air was filled with whirring wood and metal as eight hundred men on each side took turns sending out arrow volleys. Hundreds of men and horses were hit on each side, but the Khazarian horde showed no sign of slowing. The Bulanid flanks were already visibly struggling to keep their ranks closed when the armies were about to clash.
The Khazarian battle plan for the impending melee was to keep up full speed and ride into their enemy with concentrated troops, using their momentum to amplify the damage. The outnumbered Bulanid couldn't withstand forever. With them already weakened by the archers, there was no reason to hesitate and all three commanders ordered the charge. It was only now that Guyug recognized the troops opposing his flank were left without a central command. They must be in bad shape if they can't even muster three men for a war that threatens their existence, he thought to himself. Then the armies collided.
The Bulanid army withstood the first attack wave, mostly because they had decided to not counter the head-on assault but to avoid as much of it as possible, dispersing their own brigades into smaller units. These gangs did then prod at the flanks and the rear guard of the Khazarian armies charging through, effectively causing more damage than they sustained. This smart decision still served them little, considering how many more Khazarians there still were. It was obvious that at this pace the Bulanid horde would bleed out quicker.
The Khazarian horde regrouped for the second attack, still under heavy arrow fire. This time, the enemies' flanks could not withstand the impact of Guyug's and Baghathur's forces. In quick succession, they fell apart and into flight. The center was suddenly surrounded from three sides and taking heavy losses.
It took the unlucky remaining Bulanid troops some time – and many lives – until they were able to retreat. When the Khazarians called off the pursuit, the soil was drenched with blood and littered with bodies. The battle had not taken more than an hour all in all, but almost 1900 men were killed, incapacitated or taken prisoner.
When it was sure that there were no more hostile forces left, the victorious Khazarian soldiers quickly had to discern that Khan Hezekiah was missing. The usual search for survivors was immediately expanded and priority given to the retrieval of the General. Anxious minutes followed, until word spread that Hezekiah had been found – alive and seemingly unscathed. Yet there appeared to be a problem. Guyug and Baghathur immediately ordered their sergeants to organize the retreat to the camp and rode off.
When they arrived shortly after, they found Hezekiah leaning on two men's shoulders, his face contorted with pain. His armor was untouched though, and no blood was to be seen.
"What's happened?" asked Baghathur and alighted from his horse. "Have you been injured?"
Hezekiah panted heavily, and one of the soldiers propping him answered instead. "It does not seem so. We found him lying to the floor, stating he couldn't move or get up."
"Yes...and I told you to get me on my horse and back to the camp....not to get even more people to stand around here!", Hezekiah groaned. "When they were retreating...I felt a sudden pain in my back and couldn't....move anymore. I fell off my horse...but it's nothing...it's happened before and will subside...soon."
No one said anything for a few seconds until Guyug broke the silence. "Getting on horseback doesn't seem like the best idea for now, General."
"Oh, cut it. I'm fine."
Now Baghathur spoke up. "I'm also thinking that a barrow – or the back of a strong soldier - might be the better alternative. I guess you'll agree, General, that everything is better than staying here and debating."
"No, I don't agree. I'm feeling much better already. I'm going to get my horse now." With that, he wanted to leave the soldiers standing and walk to his horse, only to give way after two steps with a scream. Luckily, the men had the presence of mind to catch him before he hit the floor again.
Everyone was taken aback. "Get me...to my tent. I don't mind how..." Khan Hezekiah pressed through his teeth.
On their way to the camp, Baghathur turned to Guyug. "We need to report this to the Marshal immediately. And a physician, as it's obviously not nothing."
When Bars the medicus, a local from a small village near the Volga, arrived late in the evening, he found Hezekiah still in full body armour. The Khan had refused to let anyone help him get rid of it all day. Yet upon being told that nothing was to be done in this state, this time he didn't try to make a point. When Hezekiah's squire finally took off his boots and bracers, Bars was shocked. "Sir, how long have you been running around with this?"
Hezekiah didn't answer. The rest of the examination was a quick and quiet affair.
Bars later reported to the other generals that Hezekiah was suffering from Gout in an advanced stage. Until further notice, Hezekiah would be bedridden – if he was ever going to get better at all.
"It's close to a miracle that he's been holding out this long", the medicus closed his report.
"There are no miracles in the steppes", Tarkhan replied. "Willpower and sense of duty kept him going."
Everyone lowered their heads.
Last edited:
One has to wonder whether Hezekhias loyalty was truly to the Khagan, pride or for Khazaria but impressive to last that long. Kibar was probably wise not to lead that battle personally.
Hezekiah never cared in the least for the Khagan and vice versa. His loyalty was indeed rather to his pride and his own Khanate, which is now left without proper leadership...
Kibar isn't the greatest commander himself, but at least sending a third man would have been sensible.
Chapter 47 – Rearrangements
Chapter 47 – Rearrangements
January 21, 896 AD
Tmutarakan
Baghathur couldn't stop admiring what had happened throughout the day. Their usual army camp, home to the Khazarian horde for close to nine months by now, had grown by a whole bunch of yurts, some of them sizeable and splendorous, and a huge amount of supplies and servants was brought in. In the afternoon, Khagan Zachariah with his son Yabghu the Court Rabbi and a sizeable entourage held entrance under big pomp, to be followed shortly by an equally large delegation of Serbian royalty around Princess Namena, his future wife. This evening, the wedding would be celebrated.
And this all while the army was on the move. Yesterday they had been fifty miles further north, and after a break tomorrow – a tolerable interruption by decree of Zachariah – they would head out again, hopefully to finally catch the Bulanid. It was a logistical masterpiece. All for him, all because his father wouldn't spare any effort to support his military career. That kind of makes up for all the forgotten birthdays, Baghathur couldn't help but think.
A squire appeared in the flap of his tent. "General? Court Rabbi Yabghu is here."
Yabghu was going to lead the marriage ceremony, and Baghathur was delighted to see his brother again on such a pleasant occasion. "Oh, of course. Let him in."
Earlier...
The sudden indisposition of General Hezekiah quickly proved to be even more of a disadvantage for the Khazarian war effort than everyone had thought anyway. Without his experience and his strategic mind, the Bulanid were eventually able to regroup after the defeat in Manych and to proceed to a cat and mouse game lasting for the rest of the year. They had turned south and crossed the Caucasus, and they were constantly leading the Khazarian horde around and along the mountain ranges, without ever getting too close. This way, they were even able to send in reinforcements gradually and refill at least some of their ranks. When the end of the year dawned, the Bulanid were still refraining to surrender.
This worried Zakkai of Bartenstein, the steward of Khazaria. He had gradually taken over most of the matters usually up to the chancellor's department (he found that starting his sentences with "Glitterhoof reports" gave them a lot more credibility with the Khagan) and was well informed that Princess Namena of Serbia, betrothed to Khagan Zachariah's son Baghathur, had recently come of age. The war wasn't looking as if it ended soon, and postponing the marriage indefinitely, now that both parties were adult, would be a diplomatic affront.
Then again, Marshal Itakh insisted that the war was indeed drawing to a close and that pulling Baghathur out would neither be welcome to the would-be groom nor strategically favorable. There had to be another way. When Zakkai came up with the idea of bringing the wedding to the horde, Zachariah and Itakh were all ears. The Khagan was delighted that it should be Tmutarakan of all places, the lost home of the Ashina Clan. Thus the steward was ordered with organizing what soon turned out to be a maximal variant of his suggestion, as was typical for his Khagan.
***
Yabghu just finished filling his brother in about the details. "...and that's when you say 'Behold, you are consecrated to me with this ring according to the law of Moses and Israel'. There's really not much more to it. You got that?"
"Behold, you are consecrated to me with this ring by the law according...no, how was that?"
"With this ring according to the law of Moses and Israel."
"Behold, you are consecrated to me with this ring according to the law of Moses and Israel. Got it." Baghathur, who was already dressed in his snow-white ceremonial garb, recited his declaration to himself several times. "You've really put on some expertise about those matters. I can't remember many weddings held under traditional Jewish standards. It's fascinating how much symbolism there is in every detail, and how the legend of the Israelites still applies to our way of life centuries later. We should really pay more attention to that heritage."
"Thanks for the compliment, brother. You're right, it is intriguing how these ancient traditions have been preserved and still evolved over all that time. We can learn a lot from our ancestors. Which would be one more point on the extensive 'not going to happen under a Khagan Tarkhan' list."
From the day of his promotion into the Khazarian royal council, Yabghu had been making contacts and tirelessly read reports to gain a better understanding about the internal matters of the realm. There was more to keeping the realm stable and prosperous in the long run than warring and distributing the gains. The Khazarian balance of power was complex, their geographical location potentially crucial and their decisions would impact the whole region. This could be a unique chance – or a fundamental threat, if things went wrong.
Tarkhan was their father's chosen successor, but the brothers were more convinced than ever that he wouldn't be up to the task. He was a decent commander, but throughout the affair in Perm and its aftermath he showed himself overwhelmed as soon as politics came into play. Yet the Khazarian customs left little options for the succession except for someone to outshine or remove him – or both. Luckily for the brothers, Zachariah still refused to take their plan serious.
Baghathur grinned. "I see where you're going. But it's still not the right time. We need to keep our heads down. Tarkhan's been with the horde since Hezekiah needed to resign, and though he keeps to himself I can feel he is on his guard."
Yabghu gave him a nudging. "Come on, I wasn't suggesting anything. It's your wedding after all – really not the moment to spill blood. Right now, Muhan would be next in line anyway – although he keeps enjoying life in the East and never sending any money or word of victories. Nobody knows if he even wants to inherit. Pretty much everything we know is that he's alive and still roaming with his band. Yet, if things go on like this it's a matter of time until you're in position."
Shortly after Baghathur's promotion to commander, Yabghu and him had worked out a clandestine pact: as Baghathur was clearly the better soldier and the Khazarian society valued military service (especially success) greatly, Yabghu would back his brother's claim to the Khaganate instead of pursuing his own. In turn, should Baghathur actually become Khagan, Georgia would be redesigned and Yabghu made its Khan. There he would manifest Judaism, spreading its influence southwards, and provide Khazaria with wealth the other Khaganates could only dream of. Ever since he served in Abkhazia, Yabghu had grown quite fond of all the comforts that permanent settlements offered over the simple life that even royalty lead in the steppes. Being the King of such a land...
But that was in an uncertain future. Yabghu laid a hand on Baghathur's shoulder and said: "Our time will come. Now get yourself ready for your first big moment. I'll take care of everything once you two are in place." Baghathur nodded, and his brother left to make the final preparations.
Two weeks later
When the Khazarian horde took up the pursuit again after the short interruption for the wedding, they were soon on the heels of their foes. While the Bulanid had been able to bring in fresh forces, the majority of their army was exhausted from the long flight and unable to keep up the pace. Today the armies got in sight of each other, and a new clash was finally inevitable. The mountain ranges of the Caucasus were visible on the horizon, but there would be little chance for the Bulanid to get into their cover before the Khazarian horde hit. All they could do was at least put up a fight, and so the hordes got into formation.
Tarkhan rode across the first row of his men, calm to the outside but feeling as tense as everyone else. The battle plan had just been issued by the brigade leaders and a fierce Hebrew war cry intonated. Baghathur would give the sign to move out any moment. That pesky little upstart, Tarkhan thought. Today I'll show him who the more talented commander is.
The horn sounded and the troops got into motion. The usual fire from behind emerged, but instead of slightly slowing down to minimize the impact and have his own archers respond, as would be the usual approach, Tarkhan gave the command to continue charging and slacken their formation. He then lead the troops far to the left, While this could have posed a severe risk if pulled off at the wrong moment, Tarkhan's troops were able to avoid the archer fire almost entirely.
The enemy proved unprepared for Tarkhan's forward approach. When their right flank was hit, it fell into disorder in short time and left the center exposed, which was swept away just as quickly. The remaining brigade was now encircled again and quickly overwhelmed.
All this happened without a full-on clash of the armies. Guyug and Baghathur had quickly recognized there was no need for the risk of a charge under the new circumstances. Tarkhan's unorthodox move decided the encounter before it had begun properly, and the Bulanid resistance was waning.
The troops were pulling back to their camp after the wounded and the (few) casualties were retrieved. Baghatur rode to the front at a fast walk, catching up to his brother.
"That was impressive."
"I know. But do you, really?"
Baghatur was caught off guard. "What do you mean?"
"You haven't seen a lot, except wind being made about you. Your approval isn't worth jack."
Baghathur attempted a reply, but Tarkhan wouldn't resume the conversation.
May 3, 896 AD
Khagan Zachariah was on a stroll along the banks of the Don with his faithful falcon, but today they seemed to be out of luck. No small game was to be spotted, and the falcon got more and more unruly. This had happened more frequently in the past weeks, and it upset Zachariah. The war with the Bulanid was dragging along - their troops wouldn't get themselves caught, just as the hares around Oleshye. Obviously Khan Kibar was more fond of his people than his brother used to be upon Zachariah's ascension seventeen years ago. Seventeen years!, Zachariah thought. Where's the time gone? Tarkhan and Muhan were little boys back then. Now one is a war hero, and the other...what does Muhan do anyway...? You don't hear a lot from him...
The sound of a horn shook the Khagan out of his thoughts. A small band of riders were headed his way. When they arrived, it turned out they bore message from Marshal Itakh of the final victory over the Bulanid. It was only now that Zachariah realized he hadn't thought too much about what to do with Kibar when he was actually imprisoned. Then again, the other councillors would surely have good ideas - and any solution would need their approval anyways.
Without delay, Zachariah and his entourage made their way back to the main camp and orders went out to get Glitterhoof and Zakkai back from Tiflis as fast as possible. The Polish court had had enough a while ago and refused to accept the horse as a Khazarian government official with according rights, and the steward took care of Glitterhoof being assigned to Tiflis, so he could prevent further damage personally. Now their presence would be needed until the details of the new order were worked out.
Earlier...
After the defeat in Abkhazia, the Bulanid horde was a mere shadow of itself, but Khan Kibar refused to surrender. Rumour had it that he wouldn't accept his men's inferiority and blamed it on his general staff. Consequently he joined the ranks of his horde personally, for the first time in years and having mostly commanded looting operations with little resistance before. It didn't help much – the Bulanid horde was on its last legs and in May the relentless Khazarian troops had them cornered again.
As soon as the armies got into sight of each other, Khan Kibar saw himself how outnumbered his men were. In a final act of humility (or because he panicked – the descriptions of his motivation differ), Kibar chose to surrender himself and end the war instead of leading them into certain destruction.
A week later
It was a a warm and cloudless spring day in the plains of Oleshye, and the sun stood deep already. A big crowd was waiting in front of the Clan gathering hall, where over the past days the negotiations over the future of the realm had taken place. Little had become known of the talks until now, but it was assured that the fall of the Bulanid was going to bear major changes to the realm. Today, the proclamation of the verdict on Khan Kibar was announced.
Out of the large yurt stepped Khagan Zachariah, flanked by his son Yabghu the Court Rabbi and his steward Zakkai of Bartenstein. The Khans Yilig of Bulçir, Itakh of Jabdertim and Menümarót of Kibar came after them, shortly followed by Savaçka, the chosen regent of Khan Hezekiah of Hekel whose health had further deteriorated lately. Finally, Tarkhan and Baghathur came out of the gathering hall, in their middle the chancellor Glitterhoof. By now, the people were used to the horse in the council and took it as an entertaining side note to a ruler who was always full of surprises. Only the other councillors still had occasional trouble with Zachariah's insistance on them consulting a horse before he would listen to them.
The men and the horse took place in a prepared half-circle of large chairs. Zachariah was sat in the centre, upon a slightly higher throne-like seat, cleared his throat loudly and took word.
"Greetings, fair spectators. As I'm sure you all know, the reason we are here is to clarify the fate of our most distinguished Khan Kibar of Bulanid." Upon mentioning the name, boos and shouts emerged in the crowd. Zachariah made a sweeping wave gesture and a half-dozen guards brought in a chained, but else unscathed Kibar.
"As the Khagan, it is my foremost honor to be supreme judge in cases of grave, maybe realm-endangering crimes. While partaking in the murder of the Khagan would on its own qualify for this category, taking up arms in denial of the just punishment...I think everyone will agree with me that this is high treason, and can in no way be redeemed."
A murmur went through the crowd and the councillors nodded eagerly.
"I could have you trampled by horses, as I did with your despicable coward of a brother. But you're not a coward. You fought back against all odds – and lost. There's no disgrace in that."
Kibar looked at Zachariah full of hate, but you could sense his relief that apparently he was going to see another day. The Khagan went on.
"Also, to what would that lead? A few years from now, my sons have to deal with your sons. No, this cannot be the answer. This cannot go on. The Bulanid have only come into power, nay, into existence by unlawful means, and proved a constant divisive force throughout Khazaria. This will end today. There will be only one Clan to succeed Muhan the Great!"
The crowd was in the mood by now and chanted "Ashina! Ashina!" Kibar turned pale. He sensed what was coming, and he wasn't sure if it was much better than being trampled by horses.
"As the Khagan, and in close coordination with the other Khazarian nobles, I hereby declare the Bulanid lands absorbed into Ashina and all of your Ducal titles revoked as of immediately."
After a short silence, cheers broke out in the crowd. Kibar tried to protest, but was pacified by the butt of a guards' spear since Zachariah wasn't through with his passing of judgement.
"Furthermore, as you will beyond doubt understand, there is no way for you to stay in Khazaria. You and your kin will not be harmed, but you will be escorted to a place of your own choice at the border. You will cross that border and from that point on never come back – lest you want to die by hoof after all."
Kibar stared at Zachariah with wide eyes, but he still felt the previous blow and didn't dare to say anything. Zakkai of Bartenstein nodded contently to himself. He was the one who insisted on Kibar being banished and not executed, mostly because the sizeable Bulanid treasury went into the Khazarian coffers this way instead of being bequeathed to his sons. That perspective ultimately carried more weight than the lust for violence some council members exhibited – but with Zachariah in charge you never knew what was going to happen at last.
With this, the fate of the Bulanid was sealed and Kibar escorted away from the meeting. In the second part, the new distribution of the reunified Ashina territory was officially declared by Glitterhoof and "translated" by the Khagan himself.
"Glitterhoof hereby declares in my name that for their valuable services in the war, the Khanate of Hekel will receive the province of Don-Portage and the Khanate of Bulçir the former Bulanid lands along the Volga up to its estuary." The Khans stepped toward Zachariah and his chancellor and were presented with certificates of European manner (but largely symbolical meaning, as few people in the steppes would actually obey to – or be able to decipher - a piece of paper).
"Furthermore, as a rather large realm has ceased to exist by today" – Zachariah left a short pause for the people to cheer – "two new Khanates will be established under the roof of the incomparable Khaganate of Khazaria. The lands of the Etelköz region, between Moldavia and Bulgaria, will be ceased to the noble Böri Khwaliz, who shall be known as the Khan of Khwaliz from now on. The recently acquired lands in Alania will be passed over to Yeçtirek Kozar, now Khan Yeçtirek."
Another cheer erupted from the crowd. Böri Khwaliz was the head of a lower noble house and had done valuable services for the court, especially while supervising the peace-keeping efforts in the Etelköz lands, which were to become his own now. Yeçtirek Kozar, born as a peasant, was a high-ranked army officer who had coordinated the cleansing of the Caucasian lands and was elevated to the nobility shortly thereafter.
The internal map of Khazaria after the redistribution, with the new Khanates encircled.
Finally, the Khagan proclaimed that the advisor seat left empty by Khan Hezekiah was from now on assigned to Khan Yilig of Bulçir, who resigned from the spymaster position by his own wish. The new spymaster would be Böri of Khwaliz who dutifully accepted his new responsibility.
"And now it is time to celebrate. After a hundred years, the Bulan Schism is mended and Khazaria is united under Muhan Ashina's children. From this day on, peace and prosperity shall reign within the realm!"
One last time, Zachariah basked in the glory of his court and the hundreds of civilians who had come to witness what would soon become known as the Grand Khazarian Reformation.
January 21, 896 AD
Tmutarakan
Baghathur couldn't stop admiring what had happened throughout the day. Their usual army camp, home to the Khazarian horde for close to nine months by now, had grown by a whole bunch of yurts, some of them sizeable and splendorous, and a huge amount of supplies and servants was brought in. In the afternoon, Khagan Zachariah with his son Yabghu the Court Rabbi and a sizeable entourage held entrance under big pomp, to be followed shortly by an equally large delegation of Serbian royalty around Princess Namena, his future wife. This evening, the wedding would be celebrated.
And this all while the army was on the move. Yesterday they had been fifty miles further north, and after a break tomorrow – a tolerable interruption by decree of Zachariah – they would head out again, hopefully to finally catch the Bulanid. It was a logistical masterpiece. All for him, all because his father wouldn't spare any effort to support his military career. That kind of makes up for all the forgotten birthdays, Baghathur couldn't help but think.
A squire appeared in the flap of his tent. "General? Court Rabbi Yabghu is here."
Yabghu was going to lead the marriage ceremony, and Baghathur was delighted to see his brother again on such a pleasant occasion. "Oh, of course. Let him in."
Earlier...
The sudden indisposition of General Hezekiah quickly proved to be even more of a disadvantage for the Khazarian war effort than everyone had thought anyway. Without his experience and his strategic mind, the Bulanid were eventually able to regroup after the defeat in Manych and to proceed to a cat and mouse game lasting for the rest of the year. They had turned south and crossed the Caucasus, and they were constantly leading the Khazarian horde around and along the mountain ranges, without ever getting too close. This way, they were even able to send in reinforcements gradually and refill at least some of their ranks. When the end of the year dawned, the Bulanid were still refraining to surrender.
This worried Zakkai of Bartenstein, the steward of Khazaria. He had gradually taken over most of the matters usually up to the chancellor's department (he found that starting his sentences with "Glitterhoof reports" gave them a lot more credibility with the Khagan) and was well informed that Princess Namena of Serbia, betrothed to Khagan Zachariah's son Baghathur, had recently come of age. The war wasn't looking as if it ended soon, and postponing the marriage indefinitely, now that both parties were adult, would be a diplomatic affront.
Then again, Marshal Itakh insisted that the war was indeed drawing to a close and that pulling Baghathur out would neither be welcome to the would-be groom nor strategically favorable. There had to be another way. When Zakkai came up with the idea of bringing the wedding to the horde, Zachariah and Itakh were all ears. The Khagan was delighted that it should be Tmutarakan of all places, the lost home of the Ashina Clan. Thus the steward was ordered with organizing what soon turned out to be a maximal variant of his suggestion, as was typical for his Khagan.
***
Yabghu just finished filling his brother in about the details. "...and that's when you say 'Behold, you are consecrated to me with this ring according to the law of Moses and Israel'. There's really not much more to it. You got that?"
"Behold, you are consecrated to me with this ring by the law according...no, how was that?"
"With this ring according to the law of Moses and Israel."
"Behold, you are consecrated to me with this ring according to the law of Moses and Israel. Got it." Baghathur, who was already dressed in his snow-white ceremonial garb, recited his declaration to himself several times. "You've really put on some expertise about those matters. I can't remember many weddings held under traditional Jewish standards. It's fascinating how much symbolism there is in every detail, and how the legend of the Israelites still applies to our way of life centuries later. We should really pay more attention to that heritage."
"Thanks for the compliment, brother. You're right, it is intriguing how these ancient traditions have been preserved and still evolved over all that time. We can learn a lot from our ancestors. Which would be one more point on the extensive 'not going to happen under a Khagan Tarkhan' list."
From the day of his promotion into the Khazarian royal council, Yabghu had been making contacts and tirelessly read reports to gain a better understanding about the internal matters of the realm. There was more to keeping the realm stable and prosperous in the long run than warring and distributing the gains. The Khazarian balance of power was complex, their geographical location potentially crucial and their decisions would impact the whole region. This could be a unique chance – or a fundamental threat, if things went wrong.
Tarkhan was their father's chosen successor, but the brothers were more convinced than ever that he wouldn't be up to the task. He was a decent commander, but throughout the affair in Perm and its aftermath he showed himself overwhelmed as soon as politics came into play. Yet the Khazarian customs left little options for the succession except for someone to outshine or remove him – or both. Luckily for the brothers, Zachariah still refused to take their plan serious.
Baghathur grinned. "I see where you're going. But it's still not the right time. We need to keep our heads down. Tarkhan's been with the horde since Hezekiah needed to resign, and though he keeps to himself I can feel he is on his guard."
Yabghu gave him a nudging. "Come on, I wasn't suggesting anything. It's your wedding after all – really not the moment to spill blood. Right now, Muhan would be next in line anyway – although he keeps enjoying life in the East and never sending any money or word of victories. Nobody knows if he even wants to inherit. Pretty much everything we know is that he's alive and still roaming with his band. Yet, if things go on like this it's a matter of time until you're in position."
Shortly after Baghathur's promotion to commander, Yabghu and him had worked out a clandestine pact: as Baghathur was clearly the better soldier and the Khazarian society valued military service (especially success) greatly, Yabghu would back his brother's claim to the Khaganate instead of pursuing his own. In turn, should Baghathur actually become Khagan, Georgia would be redesigned and Yabghu made its Khan. There he would manifest Judaism, spreading its influence southwards, and provide Khazaria with wealth the other Khaganates could only dream of. Ever since he served in Abkhazia, Yabghu had grown quite fond of all the comforts that permanent settlements offered over the simple life that even royalty lead in the steppes. Being the King of such a land...
But that was in an uncertain future. Yabghu laid a hand on Baghathur's shoulder and said: "Our time will come. Now get yourself ready for your first big moment. I'll take care of everything once you two are in place." Baghathur nodded, and his brother left to make the final preparations.
Two weeks later
When the Khazarian horde took up the pursuit again after the short interruption for the wedding, they were soon on the heels of their foes. While the Bulanid had been able to bring in fresh forces, the majority of their army was exhausted from the long flight and unable to keep up the pace. Today the armies got in sight of each other, and a new clash was finally inevitable. The mountain ranges of the Caucasus were visible on the horizon, but there would be little chance for the Bulanid to get into their cover before the Khazarian horde hit. All they could do was at least put up a fight, and so the hordes got into formation.
Tarkhan rode across the first row of his men, calm to the outside but feeling as tense as everyone else. The battle plan had just been issued by the brigade leaders and a fierce Hebrew war cry intonated. Baghathur would give the sign to move out any moment. That pesky little upstart, Tarkhan thought. Today I'll show him who the more talented commander is.
The horn sounded and the troops got into motion. The usual fire from behind emerged, but instead of slightly slowing down to minimize the impact and have his own archers respond, as would be the usual approach, Tarkhan gave the command to continue charging and slacken their formation. He then lead the troops far to the left, While this could have posed a severe risk if pulled off at the wrong moment, Tarkhan's troops were able to avoid the archer fire almost entirely.
The enemy proved unprepared for Tarkhan's forward approach. When their right flank was hit, it fell into disorder in short time and left the center exposed, which was swept away just as quickly. The remaining brigade was now encircled again and quickly overwhelmed.
All this happened without a full-on clash of the armies. Guyug and Baghathur had quickly recognized there was no need for the risk of a charge under the new circumstances. Tarkhan's unorthodox move decided the encounter before it had begun properly, and the Bulanid resistance was waning.
The troops were pulling back to their camp after the wounded and the (few) casualties were retrieved. Baghatur rode to the front at a fast walk, catching up to his brother.
"That was impressive."
"I know. But do you, really?"
Baghatur was caught off guard. "What do you mean?"
"You haven't seen a lot, except wind being made about you. Your approval isn't worth jack."
Baghathur attempted a reply, but Tarkhan wouldn't resume the conversation.
May 3, 896 AD
Khagan Zachariah was on a stroll along the banks of the Don with his faithful falcon, but today they seemed to be out of luck. No small game was to be spotted, and the falcon got more and more unruly. This had happened more frequently in the past weeks, and it upset Zachariah. The war with the Bulanid was dragging along - their troops wouldn't get themselves caught, just as the hares around Oleshye. Obviously Khan Kibar was more fond of his people than his brother used to be upon Zachariah's ascension seventeen years ago. Seventeen years!, Zachariah thought. Where's the time gone? Tarkhan and Muhan were little boys back then. Now one is a war hero, and the other...what does Muhan do anyway...? You don't hear a lot from him...
The sound of a horn shook the Khagan out of his thoughts. A small band of riders were headed his way. When they arrived, it turned out they bore message from Marshal Itakh of the final victory over the Bulanid. It was only now that Zachariah realized he hadn't thought too much about what to do with Kibar when he was actually imprisoned. Then again, the other councillors would surely have good ideas - and any solution would need their approval anyways.
Without delay, Zachariah and his entourage made their way back to the main camp and orders went out to get Glitterhoof and Zakkai back from Tiflis as fast as possible. The Polish court had had enough a while ago and refused to accept the horse as a Khazarian government official with according rights, and the steward took care of Glitterhoof being assigned to Tiflis, so he could prevent further damage personally. Now their presence would be needed until the details of the new order were worked out.
Earlier...
After the defeat in Abkhazia, the Bulanid horde was a mere shadow of itself, but Khan Kibar refused to surrender. Rumour had it that he wouldn't accept his men's inferiority and blamed it on his general staff. Consequently he joined the ranks of his horde personally, for the first time in years and having mostly commanded looting operations with little resistance before. It didn't help much – the Bulanid horde was on its last legs and in May the relentless Khazarian troops had them cornered again.
As soon as the armies got into sight of each other, Khan Kibar saw himself how outnumbered his men were. In a final act of humility (or because he panicked – the descriptions of his motivation differ), Kibar chose to surrender himself and end the war instead of leading them into certain destruction.
A week later
It was a a warm and cloudless spring day in the plains of Oleshye, and the sun stood deep already. A big crowd was waiting in front of the Clan gathering hall, where over the past days the negotiations over the future of the realm had taken place. Little had become known of the talks until now, but it was assured that the fall of the Bulanid was going to bear major changes to the realm. Today, the proclamation of the verdict on Khan Kibar was announced.
Out of the large yurt stepped Khagan Zachariah, flanked by his son Yabghu the Court Rabbi and his steward Zakkai of Bartenstein. The Khans Yilig of Bulçir, Itakh of Jabdertim and Menümarót of Kibar came after them, shortly followed by Savaçka, the chosen regent of Khan Hezekiah of Hekel whose health had further deteriorated lately. Finally, Tarkhan and Baghathur came out of the gathering hall, in their middle the chancellor Glitterhoof. By now, the people were used to the horse in the council and took it as an entertaining side note to a ruler who was always full of surprises. Only the other councillors still had occasional trouble with Zachariah's insistance on them consulting a horse before he would listen to them.
The men and the horse took place in a prepared half-circle of large chairs. Zachariah was sat in the centre, upon a slightly higher throne-like seat, cleared his throat loudly and took word.
"Greetings, fair spectators. As I'm sure you all know, the reason we are here is to clarify the fate of our most distinguished Khan Kibar of Bulanid." Upon mentioning the name, boos and shouts emerged in the crowd. Zachariah made a sweeping wave gesture and a half-dozen guards brought in a chained, but else unscathed Kibar.
"As the Khagan, it is my foremost honor to be supreme judge in cases of grave, maybe realm-endangering crimes. While partaking in the murder of the Khagan would on its own qualify for this category, taking up arms in denial of the just punishment...I think everyone will agree with me that this is high treason, and can in no way be redeemed."
A murmur went through the crowd and the councillors nodded eagerly.
"I could have you trampled by horses, as I did with your despicable coward of a brother. But you're not a coward. You fought back against all odds – and lost. There's no disgrace in that."
Kibar looked at Zachariah full of hate, but you could sense his relief that apparently he was going to see another day. The Khagan went on.
"Also, to what would that lead? A few years from now, my sons have to deal with your sons. No, this cannot be the answer. This cannot go on. The Bulanid have only come into power, nay, into existence by unlawful means, and proved a constant divisive force throughout Khazaria. This will end today. There will be only one Clan to succeed Muhan the Great!"
The crowd was in the mood by now and chanted "Ashina! Ashina!" Kibar turned pale. He sensed what was coming, and he wasn't sure if it was much better than being trampled by horses.
"As the Khagan, and in close coordination with the other Khazarian nobles, I hereby declare the Bulanid lands absorbed into Ashina and all of your Ducal titles revoked as of immediately."
After a short silence, cheers broke out in the crowd. Kibar tried to protest, but was pacified by the butt of a guards' spear since Zachariah wasn't through with his passing of judgement.
"Furthermore, as you will beyond doubt understand, there is no way for you to stay in Khazaria. You and your kin will not be harmed, but you will be escorted to a place of your own choice at the border. You will cross that border and from that point on never come back – lest you want to die by hoof after all."
Kibar stared at Zachariah with wide eyes, but he still felt the previous blow and didn't dare to say anything. Zakkai of Bartenstein nodded contently to himself. He was the one who insisted on Kibar being banished and not executed, mostly because the sizeable Bulanid treasury went into the Khazarian coffers this way instead of being bequeathed to his sons. That perspective ultimately carried more weight than the lust for violence some council members exhibited – but with Zachariah in charge you never knew what was going to happen at last.
With this, the fate of the Bulanid was sealed and Kibar escorted away from the meeting. In the second part, the new distribution of the reunified Ashina territory was officially declared by Glitterhoof and "translated" by the Khagan himself.
"Glitterhoof hereby declares in my name that for their valuable services in the war, the Khanate of Hekel will receive the province of Don-Portage and the Khanate of Bulçir the former Bulanid lands along the Volga up to its estuary." The Khans stepped toward Zachariah and his chancellor and were presented with certificates of European manner (but largely symbolical meaning, as few people in the steppes would actually obey to – or be able to decipher - a piece of paper).
"Furthermore, as a rather large realm has ceased to exist by today" – Zachariah left a short pause for the people to cheer – "two new Khanates will be established under the roof of the incomparable Khaganate of Khazaria. The lands of the Etelköz region, between Moldavia and Bulgaria, will be ceased to the noble Böri Khwaliz, who shall be known as the Khan of Khwaliz from now on. The recently acquired lands in Alania will be passed over to Yeçtirek Kozar, now Khan Yeçtirek."
Another cheer erupted from the crowd. Böri Khwaliz was the head of a lower noble house and had done valuable services for the court, especially while supervising the peace-keeping efforts in the Etelköz lands, which were to become his own now. Yeçtirek Kozar, born as a peasant, was a high-ranked army officer who had coordinated the cleansing of the Caucasian lands and was elevated to the nobility shortly thereafter.
The internal map of Khazaria after the redistribution, with the new Khanates encircled.
Finally, the Khagan proclaimed that the advisor seat left empty by Khan Hezekiah was from now on assigned to Khan Yilig of Bulçir, who resigned from the spymaster position by his own wish. The new spymaster would be Böri of Khwaliz who dutifully accepted his new responsibility.
"And now it is time to celebrate. After a hundred years, the Bulan Schism is mended and Khazaria is united under Muhan Ashina's children. From this day on, peace and prosperity shall reign within the realm!"
One last time, Zachariah basked in the glory of his court and the hundreds of civilians who had come to witness what would soon become known as the Grand Khazarian Reformation.
Thats a lot of land, a worse blow to the Bulanids than the execution of their leaders. Zakkai of Bertenstein seems to be quite formidable, maybe he could be in line for some land in the future, not many people can steer the Khagan away from revenge and violence torwards rational decisions.
They are thoroughly eviscerated
Though the next generation looks like it is going to be a treat.
Though the next generation looks like it is going to be a treat.
The Bulanids are probably finished now. Kibar has fled to the East with his family (Edit: Or so Zachariah thought...) and leads troops there now, but a landless clan rarely survives for long.
I'm honestly looking forward to it. Zachariah has weaseled through for most of his life and is now pretty much finished with his lifelong task to restore his father's lands and expel the treacherous splitters - but the next Khagan, whoever it may be, will have to deal with an entirely new problem set.
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Chapter 48 – Home And Dry
Chapter 48 – Home And Dry
January 1, 897 AD
Oleshye
The celebration for Zachariah's thirty-year anniversary was in full swing. The wine and the exotic delicacies abounded. Later, a firework was scheduled to reminisce the night when the Khazarian Khaganate took back its encampment with screaming rocket arrows, after having lost it for the only time in all those years. Every important face from the Khazarian clans was present. The only missing face compared with past such occasions was Khan Hezekiah of Hekel. He had not made it out of his bed again and succumbed to his Gout in Summer, leaving the Khanate to his twelve-year old son Vakrim.
For the lad, it was his first prominent appearance as a ruler in front of the Khazarian royalty, and he showed himself a perceptive and considerate mind, aware of his future responsibilities and eager to watch and learn. As all other Khans, Vakrim was accompanied by a large entourage of family and courtiers. His own mother had died when he was still a toddler and Hezekiah's other concubine Savaçka took care of his upbringing ever since. She was also the head of the regency council that led the fate of the Hekel clan until its young Khan would come of age and protected the lad from any harm with all her experience and prowess.
Vakrim sometimes felt sorry he couldn't just go and hang around with the other kids, but the personal guard that followed his every step didn't help much when trying to get in contact. Also, he knew he was there on official occasion. Hours before, the Khagan had proclaimed under great jubilation that he and the court of Khazaria would return to his homeland of Tmutarakan with immediate effect – and that the trade post at the Don estuary in Tana which had seen itself sacked and razed more than once was to be reconstructed in the name of Khazaria's only true and rightful rulers, the Ashina Clan.
After the victory over the Bulanid and the Grand Khazarian Reformation, Zachariah kept his promise and the realm entered a period of peace. He still left most of the daily affairs to his council, but chose to not listen to warmongering, regardless of whether the voices came out of nothing or from visible people. There was no lack of such people – especially Zachariah's sons were seemingly never tired of pressing him for opportunities to prove their worth – but the Khagan insisted that as long as there was no immediate reason for violence, the troops deserved some time to rest and refill the ranks.
At least Itakh apparently had learned his lesson and refrained from asking for help in his ill-fated campaign for Moldavia. In October, the Slavic defenders had shown their full strength and amassed over ten thousand men, who then cleared the Jabertim horde out of their lands and practically settled the conflict in Itakh's disfavor. Everyone knew it couldn't be long before he had to surrender and pull his troops out.
Still, even though Khan Itakh had been with his troops through everything, for such an important occasion he had made the voyage back to Oleshye and was now intensely discussing with Khan Yilig of Bulçir, who had had a much better year by and large. After Yilig was relieved from his position as Zachariah's spymaster and made a general advisor, he could devote more time to making a name for himself in court, securing his rule and further advance Bulçir's position among the Khanates.
With the Bulanid gone, his clan was the undisputed power along the Lower Volga and at the gateway to the East. Apart from the Jabdertim, there was no comparably strong force under Zachariah left. As if wanting to prove the supremacy of Bulçir among the Khazarian vassals, Yilig had won the second Khazarian War Games in July and shortly thereafter released Stanislav of Caltagirone, the child king of Novgorod, not without excessively pointing out how weak and foolish Stanislav and the rest of his house were.
To ensure the Caltagirone would continue to listen to his insults, Yilig kept the older brother Ingvar, the King of the Kievan Rus, behind bars. While his troops continued to stand their ground against the Jabdertim, they also drained the kingdom's resources and rendered Ingvar unable to pay his own ransom. The Kievan Rus had still not seen their King actually reign for one single day until now, while Zachariah's thirty year jubilee neared its end.
January 1, 897 AD
Oleshye
The celebration for Zachariah's thirty-year anniversary was in full swing. The wine and the exotic delicacies abounded. Later, a firework was scheduled to reminisce the night when the Khazarian Khaganate took back its encampment with screaming rocket arrows, after having lost it for the only time in all those years. Every important face from the Khazarian clans was present. The only missing face compared with past such occasions was Khan Hezekiah of Hekel. He had not made it out of his bed again and succumbed to his Gout in Summer, leaving the Khanate to his twelve-year old son Vakrim.
For the lad, it was his first prominent appearance as a ruler in front of the Khazarian royalty, and he showed himself a perceptive and considerate mind, aware of his future responsibilities and eager to watch and learn. As all other Khans, Vakrim was accompanied by a large entourage of family and courtiers. His own mother had died when he was still a toddler and Hezekiah's other concubine Savaçka took care of his upbringing ever since. She was also the head of the regency council that led the fate of the Hekel clan until its young Khan would come of age and protected the lad from any harm with all her experience and prowess.
Vakrim sometimes felt sorry he couldn't just go and hang around with the other kids, but the personal guard that followed his every step didn't help much when trying to get in contact. Also, he knew he was there on official occasion. Hours before, the Khagan had proclaimed under great jubilation that he and the court of Khazaria would return to his homeland of Tmutarakan with immediate effect – and that the trade post at the Don estuary in Tana which had seen itself sacked and razed more than once was to be reconstructed in the name of Khazaria's only true and rightful rulers, the Ashina Clan.
After the victory over the Bulanid and the Grand Khazarian Reformation, Zachariah kept his promise and the realm entered a period of peace. He still left most of the daily affairs to his council, but chose to not listen to warmongering, regardless of whether the voices came out of nothing or from visible people. There was no lack of such people – especially Zachariah's sons were seemingly never tired of pressing him for opportunities to prove their worth – but the Khagan insisted that as long as there was no immediate reason for violence, the troops deserved some time to rest and refill the ranks.
At least Itakh apparently had learned his lesson and refrained from asking for help in his ill-fated campaign for Moldavia. In October, the Slavic defenders had shown their full strength and amassed over ten thousand men, who then cleared the Jabertim horde out of their lands and practically settled the conflict in Itakh's disfavor. Everyone knew it couldn't be long before he had to surrender and pull his troops out.
Still, even though Khan Itakh had been with his troops through everything, for such an important occasion he had made the voyage back to Oleshye and was now intensely discussing with Khan Yilig of Bulçir, who had had a much better year by and large. After Yilig was relieved from his position as Zachariah's spymaster and made a general advisor, he could devote more time to making a name for himself in court, securing his rule and further advance Bulçir's position among the Khanates.
With the Bulanid gone, his clan was the undisputed power along the Lower Volga and at the gateway to the East. Apart from the Jabdertim, there was no comparably strong force under Zachariah left. As if wanting to prove the supremacy of Bulçir among the Khazarian vassals, Yilig had won the second Khazarian War Games in July and shortly thereafter released Stanislav of Caltagirone, the child king of Novgorod, not without excessively pointing out how weak and foolish Stanislav and the rest of his house were.
To ensure the Caltagirone would continue to listen to his insults, Yilig kept the older brother Ingvar, the King of the Kievan Rus, behind bars. While his troops continued to stand their ground against the Jabdertim, they also drained the kingdom's resources and rendered Ingvar unable to pay his own ransom. The Kievan Rus had still not seen their King actually reign for one single day until now, while Zachariah's thirty year jubilee neared its end.
Great updates and I like the way you described the old king's death in a fast and witty way.
Interlude II – A Wild Ride
Interlude II – A Wild Ride
January 2, 897 AD
The weather was clear, and although it was icy cold and he was slightly hungover, the Khagan would not let the rare opportunity of a ride with his faithful chancellor pass. With Glitterhoof being abroad most of the time, Zachariah often missed his insight and his serenity when thinking about the greater good of the realm. The other voices weren't as comforting. If anything, they were confusing and distracting. He then mostly decided to divert himself drinking, hunting or both. But when Glitterhoof was there, it was as if even them were stopping and listening. And Zachariah was happy.
"You have no idea how much I'm enjoying this, my old friend. To take a ride with you once again, one last time watch the sun glisten in the waves of the Don. Tomorrow by this time, we will be on our way to the Black Sea. Back to the lands of my fathers."
"Yes, I'm going to miss the view as well. But the world is large, there's so much more to see." Glitterhoof said calmly as ever.
"I can't even imagine what lies out there. Sad I didn't get around all too much." contemplated Zachariah.
"Oh, I can show you. Care for a little detour? I promise we'll be back on track in no more than an hour."
"What's the...."
"Wait and see."
And Glitterhoof accelerated, first into a swift gallop, then into unnaturally fast motion that kept on increasing in speed. Zachariah got shaken so much that he didn't know what hit him, but suddenly the hooves beneath him took off the ground. Glitterhoof was flying, and now the two rapidly gained height. Zachariah was speechless. From beneath he heard: "Yeah, you can ask questions later. The air is thin where we're moving. You better let me do the talking."
"Now I'm sure you recognize this nice big piece of steppe, riverlands and coast. Congratulations on what you've built there. Alania is unfinished business if you ask me, Scourge of God, but well, you're set on not inciting violence for the moment, I suppose. Bolghar to the North is your tributary as everyone knows, and it is now competing for tribal territories further up the Volga against the Caltagirone brothers, Kings of Kiev and Novgorod. Our Eastern neighbours, Baskhiria and Subashi, are weak and will be gobbled up by someone sooner or later. To inspect who this could be – other than Khazaria, of course - we'll head there first if you don't have any objections."
Zachariah silently shook his head, and Glitterhoof bolted east with tremendous velocity.
"These are the vast steppes of Central Asia, where Cumania still looks dominant, but the Khagan relies on his underlings very much. This is why he's been unable to stop the Karakhanid Khaganate of Zhetysu progressing further to the West, prey on the crumbling Bashkirian Khaganate and cut right through his lands in the process. Even further East lies the real force to be reckoned in the steppes – the Khaganate of Kirghiz. Something tells me we'll hear of them soon. But that's just idle talk. Let's continue visiting what is. We're heading south."
"We're entering more densely populated territory now. Lots of defensive measures here, though none that could reach a horse several thousand feet above the ground, so we're safe. What you see is the far side of the Caspian Sea, ruled by the Karen Satrapy, the southern parts of Central Asia belonging to the Samanid and Persia up until the Gulf under the rule of the Saffarid. All of them are ruled by Persian Muslims, but there are significant minorities in the region which sometimes leads to unrest. Speaking of Muslims, we're about to see more of them..."
"This is the Middle East, where the Abbasid Caliphate is steadily falling apart under constant inner conflicts and leaving a large vacuum. Nobody knows exactly what's about to happen in the region, especially since the Romans can't manage to win their war on the Kaysite and are unlikely to draw much profit from the Abbasid collapsing. The Holy Land itself is expected to soon be claimed by the rising Shiite Caliphate from Egypt that has already taken over a lot of land in the region and stands very strong. We're going to see more of it shortly.
Oh, and the occupation you see at our own border in the North is a Byzantine holding that somehow remained under their sovereignty as an exclave in nominally Georgian lands and that has been taken over by Kaysite forces in agreement with the Georgians. I didn't know about it either until someone told me about it."
"We'll surpass North Africa real quick, just so you get a glance how the Nabilid Empire spreads all over Egypt and starts crawling north. The Arabian Peninsula is also partially under their control. Also, note how Italy has somehow gained land in Tunisia, where our spymaster searched for secrets not too long ago, while the native Aghlabids still possess Sicilian lands."
"While we're heading West, let me also tell you two words about the Black Sea and Eastern Mediterranean region, although I'm sure you already know that area pretty well. The Romans dominate Anatolia and Greece, Bulgaria is now spanning from Carpathia to a little strip of Adriatic coast at the Strait of Otranto. Beyond their borders, Serbia fights for its continued independence in the middle of larger powers and Hungary falls apart as well after the Magyars' invasion got stalled early, with Poland and again Bulgaria picking up the pieces."
"This is the other half of the Mediterranean, and you see why Serbia doesn't have it easy: apart from the Byzantines, they also have Italy on their backs. There are occasional border conflicts with West Francia, because both their kings are Karlings – but that doesn't stop either of them from bullying their smaller neighbours. In Iberia, the Umayyad are stalled with perpetual civil wars, but it looks like the Christians are too weak and divided themselves to make much of it."
"A little further north, things don't look quite as smooth for the Karlings. East Francia and Lotharingia are in constant turmoil and have lost sizeable lands to independent states along their borders or even to secession, as it went with the Frisians who then went on to capture the whole North Sea coast and lots of Elbian lands. Across Frisian lands lies a bunch of isles..."
"This is Britannia. Far away to the northwestern edge of Europe, rather unlikely that we will ever set foot there. What's interesting about it? Well – the realm you see there, Jorvik, is subject of many great stories. They are Norsemen who came as invaders and now are aspiring to unite these isles under their banner. And as it looks, they're succeeding. We can learn much from their example in my eyes. I wonder how Count Dyre Oskyldr of Zaslav thinks about it."
"This is where all those Norsemen originally come from, but it doesn't look as it did back when they were still heading out by the masses. Today, only small looting troops arrive at the European coasts, if anything. Scandinavia is not soon going to bring forth men like Ragnarr Lodbrok if they keep fighting among themselves. Sjaelland made some gains in the past, but is unlikely to remain stable. The Danish mainland under the Petty Kingdom of Jylland is now even being invaded by some Polish noble. Further along the Baltic, things still look very tribal and atomized. But that might change soon..."
"...as Poland has expanded quite a lot recently and largely unified their homeland, save for some remaining counties - and a Duchy that comically calls itself Greater Poland. I'm quite positive the people from Poland think their Poland is the greater Poland. Maybe we'll see a war over that some day. But that's their business. Moravia is dissolving too as it looks, and they will have a hard time should the Poles decide to grab more of their lands. Other than that, you'll be used to the Kievan Rus hanging to the northwest of your own place...and with that my little tour around the neighbourhood is concluded and we'll head back to Oleshye. Always a pleasure."
Glitterhoof went into a gentle descent, and soon he described a final loop and landed precisely at the spot where they had taken off. Everything was as it were, even the sun appeared to have stopped its course for the time of their little trip across the known world.
"That was miraculous!" was all Zachariah could say. Glitterhoof nodded and grazed at the wayside.
January 2, 897 AD
The weather was clear, and although it was icy cold and he was slightly hungover, the Khagan would not let the rare opportunity of a ride with his faithful chancellor pass. With Glitterhoof being abroad most of the time, Zachariah often missed his insight and his serenity when thinking about the greater good of the realm. The other voices weren't as comforting. If anything, they were confusing and distracting. He then mostly decided to divert himself drinking, hunting or both. But when Glitterhoof was there, it was as if even them were stopping and listening. And Zachariah was happy.
"You have no idea how much I'm enjoying this, my old friend. To take a ride with you once again, one last time watch the sun glisten in the waves of the Don. Tomorrow by this time, we will be on our way to the Black Sea. Back to the lands of my fathers."
"Yes, I'm going to miss the view as well. But the world is large, there's so much more to see." Glitterhoof said calmly as ever.
"I can't even imagine what lies out there. Sad I didn't get around all too much." contemplated Zachariah.
"Oh, I can show you. Care for a little detour? I promise we'll be back on track in no more than an hour."
"What's the...."
"Wait and see."
And Glitterhoof accelerated, first into a swift gallop, then into unnaturally fast motion that kept on increasing in speed. Zachariah got shaken so much that he didn't know what hit him, but suddenly the hooves beneath him took off the ground. Glitterhoof was flying, and now the two rapidly gained height. Zachariah was speechless. From beneath he heard: "Yeah, you can ask questions later. The air is thin where we're moving. You better let me do the talking."
"Now I'm sure you recognize this nice big piece of steppe, riverlands and coast. Congratulations on what you've built there. Alania is unfinished business if you ask me, Scourge of God, but well, you're set on not inciting violence for the moment, I suppose. Bolghar to the North is your tributary as everyone knows, and it is now competing for tribal territories further up the Volga against the Caltagirone brothers, Kings of Kiev and Novgorod. Our Eastern neighbours, Baskhiria and Subashi, are weak and will be gobbled up by someone sooner or later. To inspect who this could be – other than Khazaria, of course - we'll head there first if you don't have any objections."
Zachariah silently shook his head, and Glitterhoof bolted east with tremendous velocity.
"These are the vast steppes of Central Asia, where Cumania still looks dominant, but the Khagan relies on his underlings very much. This is why he's been unable to stop the Karakhanid Khaganate of Zhetysu progressing further to the West, prey on the crumbling Bashkirian Khaganate and cut right through his lands in the process. Even further East lies the real force to be reckoned in the steppes – the Khaganate of Kirghiz. Something tells me we'll hear of them soon. But that's just idle talk. Let's continue visiting what is. We're heading south."
"We're entering more densely populated territory now. Lots of defensive measures here, though none that could reach a horse several thousand feet above the ground, so we're safe. What you see is the far side of the Caspian Sea, ruled by the Karen Satrapy, the southern parts of Central Asia belonging to the Samanid and Persia up until the Gulf under the rule of the Saffarid. All of them are ruled by Persian Muslims, but there are significant minorities in the region which sometimes leads to unrest. Speaking of Muslims, we're about to see more of them..."
"This is the Middle East, where the Abbasid Caliphate is steadily falling apart under constant inner conflicts and leaving a large vacuum. Nobody knows exactly what's about to happen in the region, especially since the Romans can't manage to win their war on the Kaysite and are unlikely to draw much profit from the Abbasid collapsing. The Holy Land itself is expected to soon be claimed by the rising Shiite Caliphate from Egypt that has already taken over a lot of land in the region and stands very strong. We're going to see more of it shortly.
Oh, and the occupation you see at our own border in the North is a Byzantine holding that somehow remained under their sovereignty as an exclave in nominally Georgian lands and that has been taken over by Kaysite forces in agreement with the Georgians. I didn't know about it either until someone told me about it."
"We'll surpass North Africa real quick, just so you get a glance how the Nabilid Empire spreads all over Egypt and starts crawling north. The Arabian Peninsula is also partially under their control. Also, note how Italy has somehow gained land in Tunisia, where our spymaster searched for secrets not too long ago, while the native Aghlabids still possess Sicilian lands."
"While we're heading West, let me also tell you two words about the Black Sea and Eastern Mediterranean region, although I'm sure you already know that area pretty well. The Romans dominate Anatolia and Greece, Bulgaria is now spanning from Carpathia to a little strip of Adriatic coast at the Strait of Otranto. Beyond their borders, Serbia fights for its continued independence in the middle of larger powers and Hungary falls apart as well after the Magyars' invasion got stalled early, with Poland and again Bulgaria picking up the pieces."
"This is the other half of the Mediterranean, and you see why Serbia doesn't have it easy: apart from the Byzantines, they also have Italy on their backs. There are occasional border conflicts with West Francia, because both their kings are Karlings – but that doesn't stop either of them from bullying their smaller neighbours. In Iberia, the Umayyad are stalled with perpetual civil wars, but it looks like the Christians are too weak and divided themselves to make much of it."
"A little further north, things don't look quite as smooth for the Karlings. East Francia and Lotharingia are in constant turmoil and have lost sizeable lands to independent states along their borders or even to secession, as it went with the Frisians who then went on to capture the whole North Sea coast and lots of Elbian lands. Across Frisian lands lies a bunch of isles..."
"This is Britannia. Far away to the northwestern edge of Europe, rather unlikely that we will ever set foot there. What's interesting about it? Well – the realm you see there, Jorvik, is subject of many great stories. They are Norsemen who came as invaders and now are aspiring to unite these isles under their banner. And as it looks, they're succeeding. We can learn much from their example in my eyes. I wonder how Count Dyre Oskyldr of Zaslav thinks about it."
"This is where all those Norsemen originally come from, but it doesn't look as it did back when they were still heading out by the masses. Today, only small looting troops arrive at the European coasts, if anything. Scandinavia is not soon going to bring forth men like Ragnarr Lodbrok if they keep fighting among themselves. Sjaelland made some gains in the past, but is unlikely to remain stable. The Danish mainland under the Petty Kingdom of Jylland is now even being invaded by some Polish noble. Further along the Baltic, things still look very tribal and atomized. But that might change soon..."
"...as Poland has expanded quite a lot recently and largely unified their homeland, save for some remaining counties - and a Duchy that comically calls itself Greater Poland. I'm quite positive the people from Poland think their Poland is the greater Poland. Maybe we'll see a war over that some day. But that's their business. Moravia is dissolving too as it looks, and they will have a hard time should the Poles decide to grab more of their lands. Other than that, you'll be used to the Kievan Rus hanging to the northwest of your own place...and with that my little tour around the neighbourhood is concluded and we'll head back to Oleshye. Always a pleasure."
Glitterhoof went into a gentle descent, and soon he described a final loop and landed precisely at the spot where they had taken off. Everything was as it were, even the sun appeared to have stopped its course for the time of their little trip across the known world.
"That was miraculous!" was all Zachariah could say. Glitterhoof nodded and grazed at the wayside.
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Thanks to you, too!
It wouldn't have felt right to present the state of the world detached from the narrative, and Glitterhoof stories are fun to write.
Chapter 49 – Thicker Than Water
Chapter 49 – Thicker Than Water
May 24, 897 AD
Zachariah cowered behind his desk deep in thought. The Grand Reformation was still in full process – there were thousands of people relocating throughout the country, the former subjects of the Bulanid clan moved to pastures further east and the Khazarian court was just getting used to its new headquarters in Tmutarakan, the heart of the redesigned Ashina lands. The horde had been redeployed to Etelköz to prevent further incursions from Eastern Europe after Itakh's predictable surrender to the Slavic coalition defending Moldavia in January.
All the Khagan wanted was peace and quiet, for himself and Khazaria. But it seemed he couldn't catch a break. A few weeks ago a mysterious man of Francian descent had arrived at Tmutarakan. Shimon of Monte Cassino claimed to be displaced by a Ducal war in Central Italy and offered his services as a spy.
Indeed it was apparent that he was a shady figure and quite talented at scheming, but Zachariah was distrustful of him. Master spies rarely appeared out of nothing and without a particular reason, and Shimon seemed strangely accustomed to the nomadic way of life for a man who grew up in Europe. Yet, as the sworn protector of the Jews, he could hardly banish a presumed Jewish refugee without a particular reason.
Only a few days later, rumours about another cabal conspiring against Zachariah made the round.
To Khan Böri the spymaster, it was hard to determine if it was just chatter about the new guy in court or if there was any substance to it – but the already alarmed Zachariah felt very much endorsed in his worries. While he was approving of Böri's efforts to clarify the situation, the Khagan decided to take things into his own hands. Just to be sure.
Until now his efforts had not bore fruit, but Zachariah was positive Shimon hid something and caution was to be expected from such a crafty man. Now the Khagan was pondering his next steps, whether to keep shadowing Shimon or prepare a trap, whether to antagonize him or gain his trust. One day he has to make a mistake. They all do.
He was interrupted by one of his guards. "My Khagan, there's a visitor. He claims to hail from Cumania and bring news of Muhan."
Zachariah was baffled. "Muhan?! I haven't heard from him in years! So he's in Cumania now? Don't just stand there, let the man in at once!"
"Yes, Sir." The guard saluted and headed out. Moments later, a bearded man stepped in, middle-aged and in heavy armour. He had the looks of an experienced warrior and carried a small chest, which he placed on the floor beside him before bowing deep before the Khagan.
"I'm honored by your hospitality, Khagan Zachariah", the stranger said light-heartedly and in a sonorous voice. "Ezra is the name, diplomatic representative of Muhan's Khazar Band."
"Be welcome to my humble accomodations, Ezra", Zachariah replied gracefully, briefly remembering his old friend and patron of the same name who had left him so much too early. "What news is it you bring? I heard you're based in Cumania now."
"That is true, milord. We've been hired by Khagan Sirçan to defend his realm against the Karlukids, a clan under the Karakhanids who think they can make Cumania a tributary. Although we have a hard time altogether, there's been several instances now where our support has proved crucial. This is also the reason for my visit. I'm bearing tokens of honor from Cumania to you, to prove Muhan's reputation as well as his continued loyalty to you and the Khaganate."
Ezra opened the chest and brought forth a Cuman standart, ornamented in the colours of Muhan's band. In the Nomad societies of central Asia, artefacts like this one were unique productions and carried great prestige. It was the proof that Muhan had finally made a name for himself in the steppes and continued an ancient legacy of the children of the legendary Muhan Ashina, founder of the Clan.
"I must say, this is a pleasant surprise – but unexpected nonetheless. I would have thought some money would flow at some time if Muhan is that successful...", uttered a still doubtful Zachariah.
Ezra smiled knowingly, obviously expecting questions about that to arise. "Keeping a band of mercenaries well fed and content is often harder than leading them to glory. For years we were barely covering the costs with whatever short-term employment came around. Now that the Cumans are relying on us, there's reason to assume that some money is going to flow back into your chests sooner or later."
"Oh well. As long as Muhan keeps spreading the tale of the Ashina clan, I don't need his money. I can't blame him for living life to the fullest, can I? And I have a magnificent steward to keep the treasury in shape. Send him my best regards and assure him he's welcome to personally pay a visit should the opportunity arise."
"Muhan will surely like to hear that", Ezra replied. "I will be on my way then to bear him the news. Also, there's a war to fight and duty calls. Farewell, Khagan Zachariah."
"Farewell, Ezra. Although I hope we'll have the pleasure again." Both men saluted and Ezra left. There's still good news after all. I wonder what Viràg and the others say about it. And Zachariah got up to tell his family about the new honors of his first-born.
August 15, 897 AD
Khazarian army camp, Odessa region
The sun was burning, and the two guards atop the makeshift observation tower at the edge of the Khazarian horde's encampment were glad that a straw roof provided them shadow at least. The younger of them was just about to climb down and get their water tube refilled when his superior stopped him. "Wait a moment. There's dust on the horizon. But don't give alarm yet, they're coming from friendly territory."
The men waited and intently stared eastwards where the dust cloud emerged until the unknown travelers came into sight.
"Oh...Those are no foes for sure."
"No. But they carry some darn big standarts. Now you can notify the generals. The Khagan will arrive shortly."
"The Khagan?! Unannounced? What is he doing here?"
"I have no idea. We'll see."
Minutes later, the Khagan and his escort spurted hurriedly through the lair and to the command yurt. Upon getting off his horse, Zachariah already shouted "Tarkhan! Come out here!". His face was deep red and he seemed surprisingly juvenile when he stormed toward the tent flap, only to nearly bump into his surprised son. Tarkhan had known as little as anyone else about his father's appearance, but upon seeing him he knew he was in deep trouble.
"There you are." Zachariah's voice was much calmer now, but still trembling with anger. He turned his back and made a few steps away from the yurt. Tarkhan cautiously followed, only to take a swift slap with the back of the hand to the face upon Zachariah turning around. The Khagan wasn't a strong man, but the humiliation stung like an arrow. Before he could say anything, Zachariah grabbed him by the collar and looked him straight in the eye.
"Who on Earth do you think you are, young man? Do you actually think that you good-for-nothing happening to be the successor to the Clan and the Khaganate entitles you to take the entirety of its forces into neutral territory and wreak havoc there? Or are you so stupid to think that marching into Bulgaria and losing two bloody hundred forty men there will go unnoticed by each of your superiors?"
Only now did the bystanders, including Tarkhan's fellow commanders, realize what had happened.
Earlier...
Summer had brought a somewhat surprising assignment for the Khazarian soldiers. When their commander Tarkhan Ashina returned from a visit to his father in Tmutarakan, he stated that the treasury was in dire straits again and the horde was to cross the Dniester into Bulgaria and loot the countryside. While his colleagues Guyug and Simsam were skeptical as they had not been informed of such orders, Tarkhan claimed he alone was entrusted with this confidential information and they needed to trust him. In the end, Tarkhan managed to have his way, not least because the generals knew he could become Khagan soon.
While the Bulgarian army was in no shape to stop them, the local populace and the count's garrisons offered heavy resistance. Over two hundred men had died in only six weeks from guerilla operations, traps, mishaps or disease. More casualties would have been guaranteed if Tarkhan hadn't ordered the troops to pull out again after tearing down a fort that guarded the way to the castle of Cetatea Alba. This decision was met with simultaneous relief and disbelief by the men. All this trouble – only for the few unguarded spoils of a peripheral county, and a fortification of little importance? Yet, running into that much trouble was hardly to be expected in advance, and as for now it would probably be for the better to cut their losses and head back to Odessa.
***
Tarkhan Ashina was silent. He was entirely unprepared for being exposed, much less so publicly. He had already pulled off a rogue operation after the war on Perm without repercussions and counted on his father's indifference toward military matters more than anything else. Now his reputation in front of the generals and the troops would shatter.
"I've asked you something, Tarkhan. What do you have to say for yourself?", uttered a seething Zachariah.
"Father, I... I didn't know what to do after the news of Muhan's success. If I am to be a respected ruler and not end up like the Bulanid brothers, I need to lead men. It was necessary."
"You need to lead men, you say? And that justifies disobeying the unmistakable order to not cross the borders? Do you know that Bulgaria is a powder keg right now?"
Tarkhan shook his head and looked to the floor. Zachariah continued: "You know so little, Tarkhan. I should never have entrusted you with an army. I'll tell you another thing: You weren't the only one who felt the need to react to Muhan's success. Two weeks ago, while you were burning the realm's troops in Belgorod, your brother Bagathur took off with his own host of mercenaries. He's apparently saved some coin and is now marching to the Holy Land to make his fortune there."
Tarkhan's eyes grew wide and he couldn't hide his appreciation. That was a bold move. The Holy Land was in turmoil and had been so for many years - a place where everlasting glory and a swift and painful death could be close to each other.
"You will have quite a lot of time to think about starting your own endeavour as well", Zachariah continued. "After this, it's obvious you will not lead one single Khazarian man for the time being. If you weren't as high-born as you are, we would talk about high treason and painful death or worse. Pack your stuff and leave this camp at once."
Toward Guyug and Simsam, who were watching the whole scenery with unease and indignation, he added: "I already know you've been deceived. You're not to blame for what happened, yet you are from now on unconditionally accountable to Marshal Itakh and me personally before troops under your supervision move one inch. Are we clear?"
"Yes, Sir." The generals saluted snappily. They were no men for big words.
"Good. As Baghathur and Tarkhan have rescinded from their duty as commanders, you will soon be complemented by Khan Yilig of Bulçir and Khan Yeçtirek of Kozar. I sincerely hope the renegade operations are a thing of the past now. Your old and new orders are to stay put right here. You'll be needed soon enough."
With that, the one-sided discussion was concluded and the Khagan headed off to Tmutarakan again. Only a few hours later, a considerably smaller envoy around Tarkhan Ashina, no longer General from this day, followed them.
May 24, 897 AD
Zachariah cowered behind his desk deep in thought. The Grand Reformation was still in full process – there were thousands of people relocating throughout the country, the former subjects of the Bulanid clan moved to pastures further east and the Khazarian court was just getting used to its new headquarters in Tmutarakan, the heart of the redesigned Ashina lands. The horde had been redeployed to Etelköz to prevent further incursions from Eastern Europe after Itakh's predictable surrender to the Slavic coalition defending Moldavia in January.
All the Khagan wanted was peace and quiet, for himself and Khazaria. But it seemed he couldn't catch a break. A few weeks ago a mysterious man of Francian descent had arrived at Tmutarakan. Shimon of Monte Cassino claimed to be displaced by a Ducal war in Central Italy and offered his services as a spy.
Indeed it was apparent that he was a shady figure and quite talented at scheming, but Zachariah was distrustful of him. Master spies rarely appeared out of nothing and without a particular reason, and Shimon seemed strangely accustomed to the nomadic way of life for a man who grew up in Europe. Yet, as the sworn protector of the Jews, he could hardly banish a presumed Jewish refugee without a particular reason.
Only a few days later, rumours about another cabal conspiring against Zachariah made the round.
To Khan Böri the spymaster, it was hard to determine if it was just chatter about the new guy in court or if there was any substance to it – but the already alarmed Zachariah felt very much endorsed in his worries. While he was approving of Böri's efforts to clarify the situation, the Khagan decided to take things into his own hands. Just to be sure.
Until now his efforts had not bore fruit, but Zachariah was positive Shimon hid something and caution was to be expected from such a crafty man. Now the Khagan was pondering his next steps, whether to keep shadowing Shimon or prepare a trap, whether to antagonize him or gain his trust. One day he has to make a mistake. They all do.
He was interrupted by one of his guards. "My Khagan, there's a visitor. He claims to hail from Cumania and bring news of Muhan."
Zachariah was baffled. "Muhan?! I haven't heard from him in years! So he's in Cumania now? Don't just stand there, let the man in at once!"
"Yes, Sir." The guard saluted and headed out. Moments later, a bearded man stepped in, middle-aged and in heavy armour. He had the looks of an experienced warrior and carried a small chest, which he placed on the floor beside him before bowing deep before the Khagan.
"I'm honored by your hospitality, Khagan Zachariah", the stranger said light-heartedly and in a sonorous voice. "Ezra is the name, diplomatic representative of Muhan's Khazar Band."
"Be welcome to my humble accomodations, Ezra", Zachariah replied gracefully, briefly remembering his old friend and patron of the same name who had left him so much too early. "What news is it you bring? I heard you're based in Cumania now."
"That is true, milord. We've been hired by Khagan Sirçan to defend his realm against the Karlukids, a clan under the Karakhanids who think they can make Cumania a tributary. Although we have a hard time altogether, there's been several instances now where our support has proved crucial. This is also the reason for my visit. I'm bearing tokens of honor from Cumania to you, to prove Muhan's reputation as well as his continued loyalty to you and the Khaganate."
Ezra opened the chest and brought forth a Cuman standart, ornamented in the colours of Muhan's band. In the Nomad societies of central Asia, artefacts like this one were unique productions and carried great prestige. It was the proof that Muhan had finally made a name for himself in the steppes and continued an ancient legacy of the children of the legendary Muhan Ashina, founder of the Clan.
"I must say, this is a pleasant surprise – but unexpected nonetheless. I would have thought some money would flow at some time if Muhan is that successful...", uttered a still doubtful Zachariah.
Ezra smiled knowingly, obviously expecting questions about that to arise. "Keeping a band of mercenaries well fed and content is often harder than leading them to glory. For years we were barely covering the costs with whatever short-term employment came around. Now that the Cumans are relying on us, there's reason to assume that some money is going to flow back into your chests sooner or later."
"Oh well. As long as Muhan keeps spreading the tale of the Ashina clan, I don't need his money. I can't blame him for living life to the fullest, can I? And I have a magnificent steward to keep the treasury in shape. Send him my best regards and assure him he's welcome to personally pay a visit should the opportunity arise."
"Muhan will surely like to hear that", Ezra replied. "I will be on my way then to bear him the news. Also, there's a war to fight and duty calls. Farewell, Khagan Zachariah."
"Farewell, Ezra. Although I hope we'll have the pleasure again." Both men saluted and Ezra left. There's still good news after all. I wonder what Viràg and the others say about it. And Zachariah got up to tell his family about the new honors of his first-born.
August 15, 897 AD
Khazarian army camp, Odessa region
The sun was burning, and the two guards atop the makeshift observation tower at the edge of the Khazarian horde's encampment were glad that a straw roof provided them shadow at least. The younger of them was just about to climb down and get their water tube refilled when his superior stopped him. "Wait a moment. There's dust on the horizon. But don't give alarm yet, they're coming from friendly territory."
The men waited and intently stared eastwards where the dust cloud emerged until the unknown travelers came into sight.
"Oh...Those are no foes for sure."
"No. But they carry some darn big standarts. Now you can notify the generals. The Khagan will arrive shortly."
"The Khagan?! Unannounced? What is he doing here?"
"I have no idea. We'll see."
Minutes later, the Khagan and his escort spurted hurriedly through the lair and to the command yurt. Upon getting off his horse, Zachariah already shouted "Tarkhan! Come out here!". His face was deep red and he seemed surprisingly juvenile when he stormed toward the tent flap, only to nearly bump into his surprised son. Tarkhan had known as little as anyone else about his father's appearance, but upon seeing him he knew he was in deep trouble.
"There you are." Zachariah's voice was much calmer now, but still trembling with anger. He turned his back and made a few steps away from the yurt. Tarkhan cautiously followed, only to take a swift slap with the back of the hand to the face upon Zachariah turning around. The Khagan wasn't a strong man, but the humiliation stung like an arrow. Before he could say anything, Zachariah grabbed him by the collar and looked him straight in the eye.
"Who on Earth do you think you are, young man? Do you actually think that you good-for-nothing happening to be the successor to the Clan and the Khaganate entitles you to take the entirety of its forces into neutral territory and wreak havoc there? Or are you so stupid to think that marching into Bulgaria and losing two bloody hundred forty men there will go unnoticed by each of your superiors?"
Only now did the bystanders, including Tarkhan's fellow commanders, realize what had happened.
Earlier...
Summer had brought a somewhat surprising assignment for the Khazarian soldiers. When their commander Tarkhan Ashina returned from a visit to his father in Tmutarakan, he stated that the treasury was in dire straits again and the horde was to cross the Dniester into Bulgaria and loot the countryside. While his colleagues Guyug and Simsam were skeptical as they had not been informed of such orders, Tarkhan claimed he alone was entrusted with this confidential information and they needed to trust him. In the end, Tarkhan managed to have his way, not least because the generals knew he could become Khagan soon.
While the Bulgarian army was in no shape to stop them, the local populace and the count's garrisons offered heavy resistance. Over two hundred men had died in only six weeks from guerilla operations, traps, mishaps or disease. More casualties would have been guaranteed if Tarkhan hadn't ordered the troops to pull out again after tearing down a fort that guarded the way to the castle of Cetatea Alba. This decision was met with simultaneous relief and disbelief by the men. All this trouble – only for the few unguarded spoils of a peripheral county, and a fortification of little importance? Yet, running into that much trouble was hardly to be expected in advance, and as for now it would probably be for the better to cut their losses and head back to Odessa.
***
Tarkhan Ashina was silent. He was entirely unprepared for being exposed, much less so publicly. He had already pulled off a rogue operation after the war on Perm without repercussions and counted on his father's indifference toward military matters more than anything else. Now his reputation in front of the generals and the troops would shatter.
"I've asked you something, Tarkhan. What do you have to say for yourself?", uttered a seething Zachariah.
"Father, I... I didn't know what to do after the news of Muhan's success. If I am to be a respected ruler and not end up like the Bulanid brothers, I need to lead men. It was necessary."
"You need to lead men, you say? And that justifies disobeying the unmistakable order to not cross the borders? Do you know that Bulgaria is a powder keg right now?"
Tarkhan shook his head and looked to the floor. Zachariah continued: "You know so little, Tarkhan. I should never have entrusted you with an army. I'll tell you another thing: You weren't the only one who felt the need to react to Muhan's success. Two weeks ago, while you were burning the realm's troops in Belgorod, your brother Bagathur took off with his own host of mercenaries. He's apparently saved some coin and is now marching to the Holy Land to make his fortune there."
Tarkhan's eyes grew wide and he couldn't hide his appreciation. That was a bold move. The Holy Land was in turmoil and had been so for many years - a place where everlasting glory and a swift and painful death could be close to each other.
"You will have quite a lot of time to think about starting your own endeavour as well", Zachariah continued. "After this, it's obvious you will not lead one single Khazarian man for the time being. If you weren't as high-born as you are, we would talk about high treason and painful death or worse. Pack your stuff and leave this camp at once."
Toward Guyug and Simsam, who were watching the whole scenery with unease and indignation, he added: "I already know you've been deceived. You're not to blame for what happened, yet you are from now on unconditionally accountable to Marshal Itakh and me personally before troops under your supervision move one inch. Are we clear?"
"Yes, Sir." The generals saluted snappily. They were no men for big words.
"Good. As Baghathur and Tarkhan have rescinded from their duty as commanders, you will soon be complemented by Khan Yilig of Bulçir and Khan Yeçtirek of Kozar. I sincerely hope the renegade operations are a thing of the past now. Your old and new orders are to stay put right here. You'll be needed soon enough."
With that, the one-sided discussion was concluded and the Khagan headed off to Tmutarakan again. Only a few hours later, a considerably smaller envoy around Tarkhan Ashina, no longer General from this day, followed them.