《Last King of Kings》


 Chapter 1: The King of kings

    <h4>Chapter 1: The King of kings</h4>


    "My Shahanshah, the enemy is fleeing! We have won the day!" eximed the man kneeling before him. It was Rostam Farrokhzad, the military marshal of Sassanid Empire. He was so overjoyed he forgot basic courtesy. Shahanshah changed his strained expression into that of pure relief. Then he eyed the empty chariot drawn by white horses that he brought with him today. He wanted to cry tears of joy. "Looks like Ahura Mazda didn''t abandon us after all." said the Shah, patting Rostam and nodding at him, signaling him to stand up. After Rostam noticed the Shahanshah''s gesture, he looked up and stood.


    "You have won a great battle here today. I knew that my army will do great in your hands, spahbed Rostam. Thank you."


    The Shahanshah''s words stabbed right through Rostam''s heart, piercing it and bringing a surge of emotions to Rostam.


    "Thank you, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal." said Rostam and kneeled down again.


    Shahanshah was following a cavalry group of Immortals with his eyes, looking at them how they harass and kill of the remaining fleeing Arab soldiers. The atmosphere around him was that of a joy and relief, soldiers thanking Ahura Mazda and all Amesha Spentas, his entities, for granting them today''s victory.


    After the battle, the Sahanshah was joined by the former mentioned Rostam Farrokhzad, spahbed or army marshal of the Sassanid army, Bahman Jaduya, renowned general known for defeating Arabs at the Battle of the Bridge and Jalinus, a general of an Armenian descend whomanded the right nk of the army during the battle, proving himself as a capablemander. Shahanshah, surrounded by pushtigban, his bodyguard, started giving a speech.


    "Soldiers of the Sassanid Empire, sons of Ahura Mazda! Today, our all-mighty lord has granted us this stunning victory after he saw your brave hearts and courageous souls. The Arabs have been a thorn in our feet for so long. They spilled the blood of our brothers, our fathers and our sons, they desecrated our cities and Holy sites, but first and foremost, they have defied the will of our lord and saviour Ahura Mazda. Today, we punished them for their unholy deeds by spilling their blood on this very ground! The enemies are crushed, they are routed and they are decimated! Brave soldiers! The victory won today will have an unprecedented impact on the course of history and will mark the re-birth of our nation! You can go and celebrate our victory, as you were the ones who wrote history today! Let this battlee into history as grand Nabard-e Qadisiyeh, or Battle of al-Quadisiyyah!"


    With the Shahanshah''s speech ending, the soldiers roared in agreement and support of their Shah. The army was unified, under three stalwart leaders and their Emperor ¨C Shahanshah. The Empire was looking up to their Shahanshah with utmost respect and gratitude, praying for his well-being daily. He was a leader that brought the shattered empire together, and resurrected the dying empire. But it wasn''t always like this.


    4 years ago, Anahid fire-temple, Istakhr, Southern Persia


    A boy with about 8 years was being crowned. To what? To an Emperor. Emperor of what? Of a dying empire. Of a Sassanid Empire. His name was Yazdegerd III., grandson of the great Khosrow II. He crowned himself, as there was no one else who had the right to crown a Shahanshah. Centuries ago, in this very temple, Ardashir I. crowned himself as King of kings, pledging to bring back the glory of old and ancient Achaemanid Empire. But who was Yazdegerd to this great man? He was but a child, without power to act, without authority tomand and without empire to rule. Yazdegerd was crowned after his aunt, Boran, was mercilessly murdered and deposed from throne. As such, Yazdegerd was always fearing for his life, with few loyal to him, but many disloyal.


    His empire, devastated after years of civil war and exhausted after the brutal conflict with the Romans, was struck by yet another cmity. The gue, which killed nearly half of the Sassanid poption was meant to be the final nail that made the coffin for the Sassanid Empire.


    The very same day of the coronation, he had Rostam Farrokhzad, Farrukhzad, and Jalinus brought to him. His trusted subjects, most loyal advisors.


    "Gentlemen, from today on, you be my subjects, and as people who also served my grandfather, may he be immortal, and as such I put my unbreakable trust in you. I will bestow upon you offices sufficient your skill and prowess, and ask you to be loyal to me and me only."


    "Rostam Farrokhzad, I bestow upon you the title of spahbed, the marshal and chief of my army. I expect nothing more than honourable and loyal approach to your office."


    After the Shah said his words to Rostam, he kneeled, kissed the ground and said "Thank you, he who may be immortal." Shah then continued.


    "Farrukhzad, brother of Rostam and son of Farrukh, you were loyal servant of my grandfather years ago, and as one who stayed loyal, I trust you and bestow you with the title of wuzurg framadar, or minister of my Empire. I expect you to do honest work, when serving the Empire in one of its highest offices."


    Again, same as Rostam, Farrokhzad kneeled, kissed the ground and blessed the emperor with "Thank you, he who may be immortal."


    "Andst but not least, Jalinus, my loyal servant, even though you are of Armenian descent, you have proven you loyalty to my Empire by serving my predecessors and ancestors. I hereby bestow you with the title of hazarbed,mander of darigan and of The Immortals, he whomands thousands."


    After Shah finished granting the titles, Jalinus also kneeled and repeated what the other said, but added "May God bless him."


    All three of the men again kneeled and again thanked the Emperor for his mercy and his generosity. Yazdegerd raised his hand and gestured them to stand up.


    Suddenly, Shah''s expression changed into a serious one.


    "Now, my loyal retainers, I will need your help. The Empire is in shambles, beset on all sides by its enemies from outside and inside. I will need you help to keep this Empire of mine together. And I ask you, not as your Emperor, but as a boy, as your friend lets say. Will you help me?"

 Chapter 2: Spahbed, Hazarbed and Wuzurg Framadar

    <h4>Chapter 2: Spahbed, Hazarbed and Wuzurg Framadar</h4>


    The sudden change in Shah''s way of speaking and his sudden loss of higher status and arrogance was very surprising for all three of the men. All of them thought of betraying this child-emperor at some point of the day. It wasn''t rocket science to see that they''ll have to endure a lot of hardships if they want to keep the Empire together. All of them were startled and thought for a while. Rostam thought of his days back at the court of Ispahbudhan, a house from which he originated. He thought of how he fought against the Romans and then in the civil war, always loyal to the Sassanian kings of kings. It didn''t take long until he realized that his nationalistic feeling and his strong sense of loyalty won''t let him betray the young Shahanshah. He made up his mind.


    Farrukhzad, being the servant of thest great Sassanid king Khosrow II., Yazdegerd''s grandfather, didn''t have to think hardly. Sassanian royal family has always treated him with respect, deserving of his aplishments and service. He wasn''t dissatisfied with serving the young Emperor, and same as his brother, he quickly came to the conclusion.


    Jalinus had it harder. Even though he didn''t came across any discrimination or insults of him being Coptic Armenian, he wasn''t so sure about young Shahanshah''s decision of letting an Armenian Christian be in charge of the pce guards and The Immortals, now an elite cavalry unit of the Empire. He could also quite easily desert back to Roman controlled Armenia, where he would have his safety basically guaranteed. But not his living. Even though he came from a family ofndowners, his familys property and estates were sacked and destroyed by Khazar hordes on their raids. He would have to start from zero if he chose to go to Armenia. After realizing that, his answer was also obvious.


    Yazdegerd was eyeing the three men, who looked startled by his sudden change of tone and way of speaking. He had to risk it. If he wanted to survive at least a few year on his throne, he had to build a circle of loyal retainers and servants. And these were the people he chose, these were the people he thought would be best as a base of his loyalist cult. And he was hoping he chose them right. He was aware of his position and that he had only a fraction of the power he should have. His authority barely reached outside of Istakhr. He didn''t even control his own capital, let alone dreaming of controlling his Empire. He grew anxious every second, looking at the three men as if he couldn''t decide, whether they were his greatest allies or greatest foes.


    After a while, Rostam kneeled down before the Shah, showing him his loyalty and his answer. Shah was very touched upon seeing this. After Rostam, Farrukhzad followed and eventually even Jalinus kneeled before his Shahanshah. Yazdegerds facial expression turned into that of a pure joy and happiness. And being the eight year old he is, he couldn''t control his emotions very well, and started crying tears of joy. These tears were the proof that the Emperors gratitude is real, and that his plead for help was serious. After a while, Yazdegerd calmed down and addressed the three men.


    "Thank you, my friends and elders. From this moment on, I am not only your Emperor, but also a trusted liege and, mainly, I hope to be your friend. I thank you once again for your trust and loyalty, and I promise I won''t fail your expectations. I also hope for the same from your sides."


    After the Shah finished addressing the three men, he also kneeled down and started praying. The men followed his example. Yazdegerd was relieved. The men swore an oath of allegiance and recognised Yazdegerd as their rightful liege. He was relieved the men followed him, and when even Jalinus kneeled down to pray with him, albeit to a different god, he knew their resolve was absolute and their spirit unweakened. They had a lot to deal with after this, but every one of them enjoyed the quiet moment during their prayers and the coronation feast that was about to begin.


    Farrukhzad, the new Wuzurg Framadar or minister of the Sassanid Empire was quite enjoying the feast. It was held in the royal pce in Istakhr, the temporary capital of the Empire, until Ctesiphon citizens and aristocracy is brought under control. He knew Yazdegerd from young age, when he still served Yazdegerds grandfather Khosrow II. He didn''t know him well, but he talked with Yazdegerd''s father a lot, until he was executed by his own brother Kavadh II. Yazdegerd''s father was a close friend to Farrukhzad, and often told him how he was worried about his son. Apparently, Yazdegerd never really yed with toys nor did he behave in a way 4 year olds are supposed to. He always had this aura around him that made him look more mature than he actually was. Of course, on emotional level, he was still but a child. He cried when he fell and bruised his knee. He cried when he was hungry. And he also cried, after his father was executed. And this hypothesis was today revealed as being true. Yazdegerd really did have thinking of a much mature person than what his real age was. Farrukhzad saw that. Not only him. All three men knew, that this isn''t something average eight year old could produce. He didn''t know the exact details, but it was obvious to him that Yazdegerd is aware of his current situation and ns to do something with it. When he was called together with Jalinus and Rostam before the Emperor, he felt as if this Emperor was much older than he actually was. But he soon realized, together with the Emperor''s tears, that although his way of thinking may be more mature, deep there, he was but a child who had his childhood stolen by petty squabbles for the throne. But through all of this, Yazdegerd stood strong against the hardships that were thrown on him. And Farrukhzad admired this in the child-emperor. He admired his courage and way with words. And he believed. He believed, that if someone is destined to lead this Empire out of these hardships, it is none other than Yazdegerd, the God-made child-emperor.

 Chapter 3: Shahanshah first, child second

    <h4>Chapter 3: Shahanshah first, child second</h4>


    Farrukhzad was sitting with both Rostam and Jalinus at the table inside his chambers. All three of them appeared a bit nervous, thinking about what each of them has on their mind. Then, Farrukhzad stood up and broke the silence.


    "Gentlemen, friends, I want to discuss the future of the empire with you. I do not mean to overthrow our Shah, may he be immortal, but to lessen his burden of ruling. When he delivered us his speech after the coronation, I understood something. He was robbed of his childhood, never getting to fully enjoy it. He didn''t even finish his education. Yet he stood tall and firm before us, talking to us as a true Shahanshah, trying to ovee his fear and anxiousness. I understood all of this from his words and actions alone. And I think it is sad. I don''t think it is right to force a child to rule over this corpse of an empire. I too, had kids, although all of them are adult by now. And I think we should let our rightful liege toe of age, until he can take the burden of ruling his empire. Let us help him with it, at least for now. I know, that if we give him time to grow, he will be a great ruler."


    Both Rostam and Jalinus were stunned by Farrukhzads profound and touching speech.


    "I agree with my brother. I too had a child, and I too think that we shouldn''t let court intrigues and petty noble squabbles to steal his childhood. But I also think that we should let our Shah have a say in state matters, as rightfully it is still his empire. What do you say, Jalinus?" responded Rostam and invited Jalinus to say his piece of mind.


    "I don''t have children like you, but I too sympathize with our ruler. But I also think that we still should let our Shah have say in whatever you two will be doing. It is quite clear that you want to be those ruling instead of our Shah, and I don''t know if its with good intentions, but because my Shah trusts you, I do too. Just promise me, that you won''t sumb to the power your offices will bring you and that you will let our Shah have the final decision in all important matters of the crown." said Jalinus, in Middle Persian with slight ent.


    "But what about his childhood?" yelled Farrukhzad. "Isn''t it better for our Shah to watch and learn and gain experience before he can have a say in the matters of the state?"


    "How do you expect our Shah to gain experience if you won''t allow his presence regarding matters of the crown?" attacked Jalinus while frowning.


    "Brother, this Armenian is right. If we want our Shah to grow and to gain experience to rule, we have to discuss crown matters with him and aid him in making his decision. This is how we can assure our Shah will be prepared to rule." agreed Rostam with Jalinus.


    Farrukhzad frowned again, but seemed to be deep in thought for a while. After a while, he emerged from his own consciousness and replied.


    "I am a man who can ept he made a mistake. And today I made one. My acting was that of a child, and my intentions looked like that of a usurper. I just want to make clear, that this was all meant for our Shah''s well-being and nothing more. I sincerely apologize, sir Jalinus."


    "It doesn''t matter now. Our empire is falling apart every minute we waste in this useless debate. Let you lessen our Shahanshah"s burden, but inform him of this and of every important matter you maye across."


    "You have my word."


    Yazdegerd sat in his chamber at the royal pce in Istakhr, reading and studying Principles of Writing Book, when someone knocked on his door. It was, of course Farrukhzad, informing him of the changes they arbitrarily made without the Shahanshah''s knowledge. After informing him on what exactly they agreed, he smiled worryingly. He knew how it sounded, and he knew how it looked. But his intentions were pure. Young Shah looked at him, sadness and frustration, mixed together with pain were in his eyes.


    "Bring Rostam and Jalinos here. Quickly." said the Shah while avoiding eye contact with Farrukhzad, who immediately left for the two men. After a while, when he brought them together with him, Shah was already waiting for them, red under his eyes. He was probably crying. Before any of them could ask what the meaning of this is, Yazdegerd interrupted their train of thoughts.


    "I ask you, who is your rightful liege and monarch?"


    "It is none other than you, my Shah, may he be immortal." answered Farrukhzad, while all three of them kneeled.


    "Yes, exactly. I, Yazdegerd III., Shahanshah of Iran and Aniran, King of kings. I am your rightful liege and monarch. So why, why is that you, my most trusted retainers discussed me and my future behind my back, informing me only of the results? I trust you more than anyone, so why don''t you trust me? Why did you think it is a good idea to talk about your Shahanshah behind his very back, and then informing him of it? I don''t understand. You treat me as a child more than you treat me as a Shah. But I am not your child, I am your Shah, so treat me as one."


    Emotions like frustration, anxiousness and sadness poured from Yazdegerds words right into gaps in the hearts of these three men. Suddenly, they understood that their behaviour was that of an ignorant fool and their actions were that of a distrusting subject. They didn''t beg for Shah''s forgiveness, as if he wanted to punish them, he would''ve done so much earlier. He didn''t want to punish them, as they were his only chance of his survival. He wanted them to think of him not as a child, but as their Shahanshah.


    After a while, Yazdegerd calmed down, sat on his armchair and continued.


    "In most cases though, I agree with you. I am aware of my inability to rule efficiently, I am aware of my illiteracy, and I am aware of myck of experience. But this is still my Empire, and as such, it should be my word to decide the fate, not yours, not anyones. Just mine."


    His words yet again proved to his retainers that the one who is talking to them is not someone with a mind of a eight year old child. But once again, the red under his eyes proved, that on emotional level, a child is still a child. He stood up from his chair, went towards the door and left saying


    "Tomorrow, I expect both reports and learning materials brought to me. Don''t disappoint me."


    Then he left, presumably went to relieve his stress into pce gardens, surrounded by his maids and tasty food and drinks. Three men stayed in his chambers for a while, still kneeling, maybe ming their conscience. Then they left, their Shahanshah''s words still stuck in them.

 Chapter 4: Heraclius, Emperor of Romans

    <h4>Chapter 4: Heraclius, Emperor of Romans</h4>


    Heraclius, Emperor of the Romans was lying in his pce gardens in Constantinople, indulging himself in pleasure and rxation, when he got the news of a new Sassanian Shahanshah being crowned. Reports said it is the grandson of his former rival Khosrow II., eight-year-old Yazdegerd III. He didn''t let this moment to waste. He gathered his trusted advisors, both military and administrative, and held a discussion with them in private.


    "This is a great opportunity, my Basileus! We should n our attacks immediately!"


    "Yes, I agree with magister militum Philippicus! This is a chance to defeat the persians once and for all! Do you remember how they even sieged our capital, Holy City of Constantinople few years ago?"


    Voices both of agreement and disagreement with the former statements grew louder and louder. People shouting at each other with angry faces, one would think this is a tavern and these people didn''t agree on what kind of cheese is better.


    "Gentlemen, please, calm down. This is not how distinguished men such as yourself should be behaving. I didn''t want to ask you of your opinions but inform you of mine."


    This sudden interruption from the side of the Basileus stunned most of men present. They all looked in the direction of their Basileus, some hoping he can calm the situation down, some with disdain.


    "I am not hoping to attack the Persians. Not now, when the empire is weak and her enemies sharpen their teeth, hoping to carve hernd as their own."


    Some men were relieved, some were outraged. Philippicus, a veteran of Roman-Persian conflict disagreed once again.


    "But Basileus, what if the Persians attack? That could lead to another bloody war. We should ensure this doesn''t happen by doing a pre-emptive strike and not giving them any chance!"


    "With a child sitting on their throne? With their empire in shambles? No, my dear magister militum. They are in the same situation as we are. Weakened empire, unruly nobles and unhappy citizens. And now, when there are reports of Khazars preparing for another raids, reports of Arabs and that new religion of theirs uniting Arabia under its banner, no, my magister militum. This in not a time we attack our long-time rival. This is not a time of conquest. This is a time of survival, for both our empire and theirs."


    Philippicus was stunned, same as any other man in the room. Some were perplexed and some nodded in agreement with their Basileus.


    "I agree with you, my Basileus." suddenly, a man with a slightly darker skin started to talk. "I too am concerned about these Arabs. Reports say that they pledge to conquer and purge other religions, as theirs is the true one. But what do you n to do?" finished the man. It was Jabh ibn al-Aiham, king of Ghassanids, leader of the Arab Christians. He was a valiant general who fought against the Persians. The answer to his question didn''t interest only him ¨C every man in the room waited patiently for how will Basileus answer.


    "You have every right to know this answer, king Jabh. And I will answer you. I n to send envoys to the young Shah, envoys bringing gifts and an offer. Offer of mutual cooperation."


    Jabh smiled and nodded in agreement whilst Philippicus and Nicetas, who expressed his support for Philippicus'' idea of pre-emptive attack frowned. Nicetas still held a grudge against Persians, when he wasn''t able to stop them from conquering Egypt, and he held that grudge even when Romans retook the Egypt back. He wasn''t finished with them and wanted a revenge, but now, his ns were torn apart.


    "This is my final decision. I won''t let your shattered pride to get in a way of this. This is our best chance to hold our empire together, whether you like it or not, magister militum."


    Heraclius has obviously noticed the outraged expression Philippicus wore, so he made sure he knows that it won''t get him anywhere. After that, he dismissed the meeting, only Jabh with Bonus, a close associate of Heraclius and his long-time friend remaining inside.


    "My Basileus, was it necessary for you to insult magister militum so much? I worry that he will turn against you someday. He isn''t a man to take this kind of insult lightly." said worryingly Bonus. Jabh stood there silent, only listening.


    "It was more than necessary. He still thinks that Romans are the invincible ones, even though our fame is long time gone. He still thinks we can go head on head with the Persians, even though our empire is weakened and in danger. This was necessary to bring him back to reality. Don''t worry, I know him for a long time now. He will realize his mistakes sooner orter."


    Bonus, evidently content with his Basileus'' answer bowed and left the room. Jabh stood there quietly for a while, maintaining eye contact with the Basileus. Then he sighed.


    "I will have the envoys ready and sent from Syria, my Basileus."


    Heraclius just nodded and both of them left the room, each one in a different direction.


    Before Jabh left Constantinople, he sent a letter beforehand, informing his subordinates to start the preparations for the envoy. When he wanted to leave, he was suddenly interrupted.


    "King Jabh, may I have a word with you?" a familiar voice could be heard behind him. It was Philippicus with Nicetas. He turned around and nodded, without saying a word. They led him back into the pce, quietly and suspiciously. But Jabh brought his personal guards with him, so he was partially safe. Then they entered a room that could only be described as living quarters. There were two sofas and one armchair, both coated with silk. Between the two sofas were jugs of wine, four cups and tes filled with fruit of all kind. They sat down on a sofa, leaving Jabh standing.


    "My good sir, king Jabh, sit down with us. I invite you." said Philippicus with a sweet voice. Nicetas immediately started gnawing on the grapes and chugging down the wine, as if to prove it isn''t poisoned. Not that Jabh suspected it. He reluctantly sat down and when he noticed the four cups, he felt a bit strange.


    "Now we wait for ourst guest. He should be showing up soon." said Philippicus in a rxed tone. Jabh had enough.


    "What do you want from me, magister militum? Because I don''t believe this to be just a friendly feast."


    He sounded serious and angry, but that was to cover for his nervousness. Philuppicus looked at him a bit puzzled, put down the cup of wine he was holding and changed into a carefree expression.


    "You think too deep into this, my friend. This is nothing but for our own pleasure. After all, we all deserve it, and I thought you too will be pleased with this stress reliever, before you go back to Syria."


    Jabh wasn''t convinced but decided to let the issue go. After a while, thest guest arrived. It was one of the men who also participated on the meeting held by Basileus. His name was Vahan, amander of Armenian descent, former magister militum per Orientem, or army marshal of the Orient. When he entered the room, he was quickly greeted by Philippicus and Nicotas. Jabh also greeted him for decency''s sake, but not as intensively as former mentioned. Vahan sat down, talked a bit with the three men, ate the fruit and drank the wine. After a while, when food was scarce and jugscked wine, Philippicus pped his hands and maids and servants started to pour to the room, taking empty jugs and tes and putting down tes filled with food and jugs filled with wine. Jabh could see where this will go, when lightly clothed girls started toe inside. He excused himself and quickly left, never looking back.

 Chapter 5: Abu Bakr, Caliph of Arabs

    <h4>Chapter 5: Abu Bakr, Caliph of Arabs</h4>


    Abu Bakr was still concentrating his power and authority, when he heard that a new Persian Shah was crowned, around two weeks after he was elected as Caliph of all Arabs. He was a close friend of prophet Muhammad and one of the first who converted to Im. There wasn''t anyone better for leading the Arabs and Im to greatness. He read the reports about the young Shah, a mischievous smile forming on his face. Servant, who brought him this report was still standing there, awaiting further instructions.


    "You, bring me Abbas ibn Abd al-Muttalib, young Usama ibn Zayd, Umar ibn al-Kha??¨¡b and Khalid ibn al-Walid. We have much to discuss."


    Servant quickly bowed and then exited the room. Abu Bakr was still smiling, re-reading this report to make sure got everything right. His ns started to construct inside his head. ns so grand he wouldn''t dare to think of them as reality few years back. But now, with Arabia united under the banner of Im, stronger than before, now was a right time to strike. The Romans and Persians, both exhausted by the wars they waged with each other didn''t have time to care about Arabs in the south. And that would be thest mistake they made. At least so Abu Bakr though.


    After a while, the men he called entered the room. They bowed and greeted each other before their attention was all focused on Abu Bakr. Without a word, Abu Bakr smiled and gave them the report, letting every one of them read it. After they were done reading, they looked on Abu Bakr, who still had this pleased smile of mischief.


    "My brothers, do you know what this means for us? What this means for Im? It''s time we act. It''s time for those Persians, shivering in their strongholds, offering their prayer to fire, instead of the true god, for Romans, who have thought so mighty of themselves and of their false god, to taste the power and mightiness of Ah, the true god. Brothers, these times are in our favour and we shall use them. It is time of conquest!"


    His preaching speech was met with quiet nodding and agreement among these men.


    "Caliph Abu Bakr, I agree with you, I do. And I suggest we start drafting our ns immediately. I will let my men inform the other, so they can start preparing for a campaign." Abbas nodded and immediately favoured in Abu Bakr''s decision.


    "Yes, Caliph Abu Bakr. I suggest we attack Mesopotamia. Without it, Persians will be without supplies and coin, therefore doomed." another man, Khalid ibn al-Walid suggested a strategy of the attack.


    "Yes, yes, I agree, general Khalid ibn al-Walid. I too think that taking out Persian source of ie will prove beneficial to us and our campaign." agreed Umar, Muhammed''s father-inw and his seniorpanion. "Now, Caliph Abu Bakr, how do you n to start?"


    "I was thinking of striking into the Persiannd first, then Roman second. After all, that new Roman ruler is much more dangerous than that child disguising as a monarch. After all, defeating the child-shah will be easier than experienced general-emperor."


    "Yes, Caliph Abu Bakr. I agree. Defeating the Persians first will help us with our campaign against the Romanster. Let us free the Persians from their cult of worshipping fire and convert them to the true faith."


    As the four men discussed the strategies and initial approach to their campaign, Usama ibn Zayd, son of Muhammed''s son was quietly listening and observing the old men, as they intrigued, fought, and conversed. He observed them, with disdain and disrespect dwelling inside of him. Even though he was technically a grandson of the prophet Muhammad, he never agreed with his teachings and became muslim only through pressure by his father. He didn''t agree with forceful spread of their faith to other states and he didn''t agree with ideas and ns of his elders. Hecked the zealousness and devotion these men had, which he always thought was nothing more than a greed for wealth and power and thought of these men not as devoted and pious icons, but as people without moral barriers. He was half-right. Although these men were devoted and pious to their new religion, the lust for power yed its role in the formation of their ns, as all of them wanted to carve out their piece of Mesopotamia.


    After a few days of meeting and discussing, their base n was formed. That, of course, included forceful conversion of anyone non-muslim and desecrating all Fire Temples they came across. Their n wasid out, the dice was cast and armies of religious zealots fighting for their only true god started preparing to march. Letters were sent out,mands were given and soldiers were recruited, each of those with care and properly. The Caliphate was preparing for war.


    Abu Bakr was conducting one of his daily prayers when he was interrupted by a servant bringing some "urgent letters." Abu Bakr didn''t consider these letters to be so urgent to interrupt his prayer, so he had the servant whipped. He then read the letters, which proved to be letters from his spy in Constantinople, who wrote that Roman Basileus sent an envoy to the young Shah, urging the Caliph there is more to these envoys than it seems. Abu Bakr thought of this as nothing more than an act of courtesy from the Roman monarch, hoping the hostilities between the two empires will continue as he will strike and wipe both of them. This was the biggest mistake he made as a ruler ¨C underestimated his enemies.

 Chapter 6: Khazars, those damned Khazars

    <h4>Chapter 6: Khazars, those damned Khazars</h4>


    Yazdegerd was in Istakhr, riding in his chariot pulled by one of the best horses in Persia. He was followed by pushtigban and darigan, both elite forces tasked with protecting their Shahanshah. Jalinus was following behind him on horse, looking out for any signs of danger in the crowd. In front of him, his charioteer was quite obviously sweating, wiping his forehead with a cloth. It was beautiful day. Sun was shining, birds chirped, city was lively. Yazdegerd saw in the corner of his vision children ying on the square. Smile formed on his face, wondering about something.


    The crowd surrounding the road he was riding on cheered and praised their Shah. He was d that at least in this part of his empire, people are still fond of him, or at least they pretend to. But that was enough for him. He stood up, waving his arm, his face hidden behind a cloth, as tradition dictates. As he was waving, he listened to the sounds the city made. On the square, musicians yed traditional songs with surnas, which is simr to flutes, apanied by tompaks, which is basically a drum and ghaychaks, a type of fiddle. At that moment, he saw the city and it''s inhabitants as people, who through all these hardships stood up, licked their bruised, smiled and tried to move on. Even after the exhausting and devastating war, the deadly gue and constant raids by Khazars and G?kt¨¹rks, they continued to live their life. Not like they had any other choice though. He thought that it would be great if it could continue like this. Without any unnecessary bloodshed, unneeded wars, just continue to live in peace. That would be nice.


    He would probably continue to think this way, weren''t it for the reports Rostam brought him.


    "Khazars? Didn''t they raid Roman Armenia just a while ago? How can they conduct another raid so early?"


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, I have to admit I have no idea. Maybe it is the promise of loot and plunder that made their soldiers want to conduct another raid. But the reports are trustworthy as several scouts reported them gathering around the border of our Atropatene province."


    Shah sighed. This wasn''t the only bad report he was brought. There were also reports of G?kt¨¹rks gathering their army for presumably an invasion of Parthia. Then reports of gue appearing in the big cities of Tabarestan and Sakastan, namely in Amol, Rasht and Zarang. He had a lot to handle. But he chose this for himself and he had to cope with it.


    "My spahbed, any ideas? Opinions? Any advice?"


    Rostam was a startled a bit by this set of questions, but then he smiled kindly and answered.


    "Khazars came to rob and plunder, they won''t be able to attack and conquer fortified cities. Not in the mountains, not on those horses. G?kt¨¹rks on other hand came with an army capable of conquering even more advanced fortifications."


    He then bowed and waited for his Shah to make the decision. Yazdegerd smiled on him, thanked him in his mind and gathered his thoughts.


    "My spahbed, send your best general with an army to fight the G?kt¨¹rks. Whatever you do, don''t let them take Merv. Also, as for the Khazars, send garrison reinforcements to bigger cities in Atropatene and Media. We can''t fight both Khazars and G?kt¨¹rks on even grounds, so let''s concentrate on only one. I''ll trust you with this, my spahbed."


    Rostam knelt and with phrase "You can count on me, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal." left. The servant, who was patiently waiting behind the doors to let the two men finish their talk entered the room and brought his Shah some refreshments and jug of wine. He then took a sip from the wine and some food from the refreshments, which included dates, dairy and grilled chicken with rice, to make sure it is free of poison, and it is safe for the Shah to eat. After a few minutes, Shah took a handful of dates and started eating them.


    "Bring me wuzurg framadar Farrukhzad. It is urgent."


    "Yes, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    After the servant left in search for Farrukhzad, although no one was in the room, young Shah still looked around to make sure no eyes were set on him. Then he took the chicken and started devouring it like a wild beast. He didn''t eat for half a day and he was hungry. Very hungry and he had some time to eat before Farrukhzad would arrive. So he ate and drank as he could, until he felt full and stuffed. He then put the te away to not disturb him, but let the jug with wine on his table.


    After a while Farrukhzad and the servant entered the room. Yazdegerd gestured Farrukhzad to sit down with him, while hemanded the servant.


    "You, bring us a cup for my wuzurg framadar and jug of fresh wine. And hurry."


    "Yes, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    The servant quickly left the room, leaving the two alone. Shah picked up his cup of wine, gulped a bit of wine, then showed Farrukhzad the reports.


    "I presume you already saw these, right?" asked the Shah with a cold expression.


    "Yes, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal." answered Farrukhzad, a bit reluctantly.


    "I won''t ask you why it wasn''t you who brought it to me but your brother. I do not care. But tell me, what do you n to do with this?"


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, I think it would be in your best interest to help these people out and make it clear that it was you who helped them, not Parsigs nor Pavs, but you."


    Persia was not long ago still in turmoil as numerous factions of nobles fought against each other. Parsig (Persian) and Pav (Parthian) factions were one of the biggest ones and controlled arge chunks of territory in the Empire. Although they officially recognized Yazdegerd III. as their rightful ruler, their squabbles for territory and power didn''t stop and their young Shah didn''t pose a big threat to them. And that needed to change.


    Yazdegerd thought about Farrukhzad''s suggestion. By helping to relieve the region crippled by gue, he could earn the peoples favour and they may start to recognize him as their ruler again. This would weaken both factions and only empower the Shah. But there was a problem. He needed the money to build an army to fight the G?kt¨¹rks. But it was worth the risk. If he didn''t dare to risk in these daring times, he would sumb very quickly.


    "My wuzurg framadar, I believe I can entrust you with this task to make it a sess, right?"


    "You can count on me, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. But there is one more topic I wish to discuss with my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. May I?"


    "I''m all ears."

 Chapter 7: Turmoil, both inner and outer

    <h4>Chapter 7: Turmoil, both inner and outer</h4>


    "I''m all ears." answered the Shah to Farrukhzad''s answer.


    "Thank you, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. I have some reports I wanted to show you personally, as these contain confidential information from our spyworks in thend of Romans and Arabs."


    "Get to the point."


    "Of course, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. First, let''s review what our spies learnt from the Romans. Apparently, Romans n to send some kind of envoy to you, my Shahanshah. They also specified that this envoy isn''t a mere courtesy from the Basileus, but part of some grander n. I would advise caution, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. But it seems this information wasn''t well guarded, so I wouldn''t consider it vital."


    Yazdegerd was already lost in thoughts by the time Farrukhzad finished talking. Envoy from the Romans? He didn''t know what to make of it. He didn''t deem Heraclius to be such courteous man to send envoys just for decency''s sake, judging by how he usurped his throne from previous Basileus. But again, the previous Basileus was also usurper, but still. Something didn''t sit right with Yazdegerd, as he leant his head against his arms.


    "Is something the matter, my liege?" asked Farrukhzad, who was bing increasingly worried about his Shah not responding.


    "No, nothing. Please continue with the report."


    "Of course, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. Now, to our spies in Arabia..."


    He fell silent suddenly, as if he read the report for the first time. Yazdegerd became worried.


    "It looks like Arabian Caliph is preparing to attack your Empire. He seems to be gathering soldiers and fighters, with using "spread of true faith" as casus belli."


    "It seems our worship of fire angers more people than it ddens nowadays." said the Shah with a pinch of sarcasm. Farrukhzad grinned a bit, but quickly reverted to his normal expression.


    "Thank you for the report, my wuzurg framadar. We can''t afford another expenses right now, so I shall deal with the Arabster. For now, focus on the gue relieving efforts. And spread my name far and wide, so people know who helped them. I will count on you."


    After that, Shah left and Farrukhzad was left sitting in the room, with reports in one hand and cup of wine in other. After he drank the wine, he left the cup on the table and left the room, instructing servant behind the door to clean up. Then he left in the direction of his office.


    ----


    "Rostam, are you aware of my and your position? I am with the Parsigs, while you are with the young Shahanshah, yet you are asking me to help you?"


    "I am not asking or pleading anyone, my dear friend Piruz. I ammanding you, as a spahbed of the Sassanian army to march against G?kt¨¹rks and defeat them."


    "And you think I will help you? I have no obligation to listen to you."


    "Maybe not to me, but you did swear loyalty to our Shahanshah, may he be immortal, and you did recognize him as your rightful liege. Therefore it IS your obligation to listen to me, as I am acting undermand of our Shahanshah!"


    This startled the man with whom Rostam was arguing. He couldn''t believe the child-emperor was capable of giving such orders. At first he thought that these orderse from Rostam himself.


    "Our Shahanshah did?"


    "Watch your mouth, Piruz."


    "May he be immortal." added Piruz Khosrow, a powerful aristocrat, former wuzurg framadar and leader of Parsig faction. It should be noted that, although Rostam''s father was leader of Pav faction, Rostam stepped away from petty factionalism when he was appointed as spahbed by Yazdegerd III.


    "So, Piruz, I shall appoint youmander of the army against the G?kt¨¹rks. Your only objective is to hold Merv ¨C no one expects anything more from you, not even our Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    "What if I still refuse?"


    "This wasn''t an offer, my friend."


    Piruz sighed. "Alright then."


    Rostam left Piroz to his own after telling him further details about the campaign. He felt relieved. Bahman Jaduya rejected him before he could even tell him the details and there was no arguing with the senile old fool. He was a great general, no doubt, but he was unbearable to deal with. Even his reasoning was outrageous. He didn''t even try toe up with an excuse, he straight up said that he wanted to leisure in his residence on the bank of Tigris river. Rostam was d that his old friend Piroz didn''t reject him, although he needed a bit of persuasion. Maybe more than a bit, but it worked out eventually. Rostam then frowned. He now needed to secure logistics for the army, recruit the soldiers army was missing and check on the equipment and its conditions. It was delicate work that needed calm mind, rational thinking, persuasive words and pouch full of gold. At least few of them. He then set off to do his work, never knowing if the results will be worth it.


    ---


    Yazdegerd was lying in his gardens, thinking about the problems he was facing. If all would go well, he would have G?kt¨¹rks and the gue done with. The problem is ¨C it won''t go as smoothly as it could and it is safe to say that problems will be encountered. But he believed his retainers, that if anything goes wrong they will deal with it ordingly. They, of course, have Yazdegerd''s full support. He was also aware of how Zoroastrian clergy is dividing the poption. Instead of fire they now worship gold and their followers are losing devotion, as more and more people of the Empire convert to Buddhism or Christianity. He felt saddened that people like these represent Ahura Mazda and Zoroaster''s teachings. He had to deal with them after, but it had to wait. At least until G?kt¨¹rk threat is vanished. For now, only thing he could was to n. He had to find someone with devotion strong enough to im leadership over country''s religion. The days where Persian rulers acknowledged themselves as of divine origin were long gone and so was their power over clergy. Still lying in his gardens, a servant ran up to him.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, I bring a message from Jalinus, your hazarbed. He invites you on an urgent conference with him, saying that these matters are of "utmost importance."


    Yazdegerd was sick of hearing words like "pressing" or "urgent" matters. And of "utmost importance" made its seat next to them.


    "Lead me to him. Quickly."


    "As youmand, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."

 Chapter 8: Divine opportunity

    <h4>Chapter 8: Divine opportunity</h4>


    Servant led him through pce corridors in front of a metal door. Yazdegerd recognized these doors. These doors led to pce dungeon, a ce he knew very well. He was held prisoner by Kavadh II., when he revolted against Khosrow II. and had Yazdegerd''s father Shahriyar killed. Yazdegerd himself was then held here prisoner for a few months, until Kavadh II. died of gue and his sessor had him released. In front of these doors stood a man. It was Jalinus.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, thank you foring."


    "So, what is it you need of me, my hazarbed? What are these matters of "utmost importance"?


    "Yes, my Shahanshah. Come with me, I shall show you."


    After that, Jalinus opened the door that led in the dungeon and dismissed the servant. Yazdegerd started descending the stairs, Jalinus following behind.


    "So what is this about? Did someone try to infiltrate the pce or what, that you want me to see them."


    "No, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. It is a different matter. These two man, more urately old man and a kid were disturbing the public peace using very inappropriate methods."


    "Were they running around naked?"


    "No, my Shahanshah. Something worse."


    As Yazdegerd was thinking what could disturb public peace more than old man with a kid running around naked, they finally descended into the dungeon, where dozens of cells were standing, most of them empty. But there, in a certain cell, two people were sitting. An old man, around sixty years old and a child, around Yazdegerd''s age, maybe younger. Jalinus pointed to them and led the young Shah to their cell.


    "These two are those I was talking about."


    "I can see that, my hazarbed. But you still haven''t told me what exactly are they guilty of."


    "Breaking public peace, refusing toin with the town guard, impersonation, lying to the town guard and attempted fleeing."


    One certain charge caught Yazdegerd''s interest.


    "Impersonation? Who were they impersonating that they earned this charge."


    "Your prophet Zoroaster, my Shahanshah."


    "What? Both of them?"


    "No, only the old man. He is trying to convince us this kid is a reincarnate of Zoroaster."


    "Reincarnate, huh...?"


    ording to Jalinus, the old man was running around town, dragging the kid with him, preaching and convincing townfolk that he has Zoroaster''s reincarnate right here with him. Then town guard caught him, demanded he stops. He of course didn''t and after a short struggle, he ended up here.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, please, release me! I didn''t do anything wrong, Ahura Mazda be my witness." cried the man from the cell.


    "Shut your mouth, you wretch!" Jalinus instantly made him be quiet.


    But this was great chance for Yazdegerd. If he would support this kid''s im and somehow prove it, religion would be in his grasp with clergy unable to do anything with it.


    "Calm down, my hazarbed. Let him talk. And you, if you want freedom, you better answer my questions."


    "Yes, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal! I will do whatever you ask!"


    "So, first I want to know your reasoning, why you think this kid is our prophets reincarnate. Show us a proof."


    "My Shahanshah, I have no proof but testimony of me and my lord, Ahura Mazda. I found this poor child in an abandoned fire temple along the road from Herat here. From that very moment, I knew that there is something divine about this kid and that he is someone far bigger than what he looks like."


    There certainly were few fire temples along the roads, and few of them were abandoned, due to raid or a gue. It doesn''t matter. This was an excuse strong enough,bined with Shahanshah''s support it would bepletely enough to delegate most of the religious matters to this child. Well, rather to his guardian, the old man.


    "Do you see now, my Shahanshah, why I ordered them to be locked down and to inform you of this? I am not of your faith, so it isn''t my ce to decide what to do with them. I personally don''t believe them, but it all depends on you, my Shahanshah."


    "Yes, I see now. Thank you, my hazarbed. As for whether I believe them or not... I do not believe them. But I have to."


    "What do you mean, my Shahanshah?" asked Jalinus, a bit confused.


    "Unlock the door and lead them to the guests room. Don''t let them escape. I will talk with them personallyter. And, let them bath. Please. My nose can handle only so much."


    "As youmand, my Shahanshah. Didn''t you hear? Hurry, get to work."


    Jalinus immediately started giving out orders while still looking perplexed at his Shah, who was still standing there and looking calmly at the two men, as they were led out of the cell into the pce above. He couldn''t see what his Shah was thinking. It was only month since he was appointed as hazarbed by his Shah, but it seemed as if his Shah grew so much during this time. He didn''t understand his liege''s intentions, but trusted him enough to not question them.


    "My hazarbed, from now on, when you talk about that child, you talk about our prophets reincarnate."


    Yazdegerd had first toe up with better undercover, because reincarnation didn''t exist in Zoroastrianism. At least not yet.


    ---


    Farrukhzad was currently with Darius and Javid, marzbans or margraves of Tabarestan and Sistan regions, those where the gue had appeared. Ever since the first mentions of it appearing, both of them fled from their regions to avoid contracting it.


    "So, gentlemen, I thank you for your time. Are you aware of how badly did the gue spread?"


    These two probably didn''t even pass any safety measures like quarantining the cities and funding the physicians.


    "Honourable wuzurg framadar, if my subjects are right, the spread is limited mainly to big cities of Amol and Rasht." said Darius, marzban of Tabarestan.


    "And I presume you had them quarantined?"


    "I did not, honourable wuzurg framadar, as I do not possess enough finances to be able to."


    "Not enough finances, huh, but that navel of your didn''t grow by itself, right?" was what Farrukhzad wanted to say. But he didn''t.


    "Thank you, gentlemen, foring here. I will take care of this problem, on behalf of our Shahanshah."


    Farrukhzad stood up and left the two men to themselves.


    "Didn''t have enough finances. Ha! Bullshit!"


    He sighed. He had to send enough finances and make sure they end up on good hands. That meant he had to go personally.


    "Sam! Where are you?"


    "I am here, sir. What do you need?"


    A tall man was standing in front of him. It was Farrukhzad servant, Sam.


    "Please, prepare the quarantine orders as well as financial request. We have much to do."


    "Right away, sir."


    "Thank you."

 Chapter 9: Duality of armies

    <h4>Chapter 9: Duality of armies</h4>


    Piruz was reviewing the army Rostam gave him to fight the G?kt¨¹rks. But he didn''t saw an army. He saw either young boys or old men being forced to serve the Empire for meager gain but huge risk. This was the state of the army. As Shahanshah controlled only regions around Istakhr, this was the best he could do in the moment. Half of this army were old men and young boys.


    "Rostam, when you said that you''ll give me an army, I didn''t think you''d force me to be both kindergarten teacher and caregiver in retirement home simultaneously. What do you expect me to do? Teach the half how to drink milk and the other how to take care of your joints?"


    "Calm down Piruz. These men are allpletely able to fight and to processmands. And, above all, this is the best I can give you. So stopining."


    "I didn''t think our Shahanshah, may he be immortal will send his whole pushtigban and darigan to help me, but this? I doubt they are even qualified to be soldiers!"


    "Look, Piruz. I know that it is more than bad, but you just have to bear with it. Our Shahanshah, may he be immortal, is currently trying to get back in control of other regions as well, but that will take time. And we don''t have time. So stop your whining, because it won''t help you."


    "Try to understand my situation. You are saying that I should go to fight against G?kt¨¹rks with brats who barely left mothers womb and old men with one foot in the grave already. Would you ept this insane request were you in my ce?"


    "I wouldn''t, because I wouldn''t have anything to gain, apart from fame and glory. But you do."


    That hit Piruz right where it hurt. He was right. Piruz had to defend his properties and couldn''t ept this request. Because for him, he got his own personal army for free, as long as he could hold Merv. And even if this army was temporary, he still could secure his property isn''t raided. All he could do in protest was toin, but other than that, he would be a fool had he not epted. After having said this, Rostam left Piruz with his army. Piruz felt frustrated a bit, but had the obligation and even a reason to repel the G?kt¨¹rks.


    "Damn you, Rostam. Why do you always convince me in the end?"


    Piruz then, with the help of his othermanders and officers searched his army for anyone literate or at least smart. Having found a few of them, he let them do some work thatmon soldiery couldn''t do, like taking care of rations for a certain part of the army or reporting any malfunctioned equipment. Then Piruz issued orders and reorganized the army to his liking. He also sent letter to marzban of Merv, Mahoe Suri, so he knows about the iing help in advance. Of course, main point of the letter was to show that new Shahanshah cares about his subjects and will offer his help against G?kt¨¹rk invasion. After having taken care of that, he gave an order. He then discussed with the other officers handling of supplies and logistics, as well as sries for the soldiers, who grew inpatient every hour. Then, he told them to ry onemand and prepare. Tomorrow, they march to Merv.


    Abu Bakr was reviewing the military parade hismanders organized in Ma, to show him the strength, mightiness and organization of the army they formed to fight Persia. Khalid ibn al-Walid, marshal of the army Abu Bakr had built was also looking at the columns of soldiers shouting "Ahu Akbar" every while. He was proud of his creation and hoped he could climb in his liegesdder of trust.


    "You have built a grand army for me, Khalid. For that I thank you."


    "I thank you, Caliph Abu Bakr, for entrusting me with leadership in this campaign. I promise I will not let you down, in the name of our god."


    "And I believe you, Khalid ibn al-Walid. I believe you will be victorious in the fields of battle, crushing the fire-worshipping Persians."


    "I shall."


    After this exchange, the two of them watched the parade, fully concentrating and observing the mightiness of their troops. A servant brought them some dates and milk with honey. Then he left and the two men started indulging themselves in the taste and vour of their meal. It was Abu Bakr who broke the silence.


    "Khalid ibn al-Walid, tell me, who do you think will seed me?"


    "Caliph Abu Bakr, what kind of question is this?"


    "Just tell me. Who will you chose as Caliph when I die?"


    "Please, Caliph Abu Bakr, don''t talk about your death so openly, or-"


    "Or what? Please, my dear friend, I just want to hear your opinion on this matter. I am not afraid to die and I am not afraid to talk about death. One day, when it wille to silence me, I won''t be able to talk about death anymore. So why shouldn''t I when I still can? But nevermind this, I want your honest opinion, Khalid ibn-al Walid."


    "Umar. I think Umar ibn al-Khattab is best suited as your sessor."


    "I see. Umar is indeed apetent man capable of great deeds. Yes. But it seems our candidates differ."


    "Who would you want to see as your sessor, Caliph Abu Bakr?"


    "Young Usama ibn Zayd. That boy has great potential. I can see it in him. I think he would make great Caliph."


    "But isn''t Usama ibn Zayd a bit young?"


    "Isn''t age just a number in our god''s eyes?"


    Both of them fell silent after that, thinking about what the other said and organizing their thoughts. Then, Khalid ibn al-Walid had other matters to attend to, so he left Caliph to stare at still ongoing military parade. Abu Bakr was still in awe from his army, not even a me of doubt appeared in him. This was the second mistake Abu Bakr made. He overestimated his own power.

 Chapter 10: What plagues the Empire

    <h4>Chapter 10: What gues the Empire</h4>


    Farrukhzad rode in the direction of Tabarestan, thinking to first take care of Rasht and then head through Amol into Zarang. It would be a long journey ¨C around a month long. Although he had his servant, Sam to take care of any official inquiries, such as requests, orders andmands Farrukhzad will have issued, he was the one to prepare propaganda for his Shahanshah, and then things like supplies, horses, guards and so on. He rode in a carriage, together with Sam apanied by a group of guards riding on horses with spears and sabres. They rode from Istakhr along the Zagros mountains through Ectabana, where they resupplied and changed horses. Then, after around a week, they arrived at the gates of the city of Rasht. This city on the coast of Caspian sea was quite big for city in early middle ages. With poption of more than one hundred thousand it was an important trade hub in the Tabarestan region, with lot of tradeing through here from Caspian sea and the Caucasus. Or that would normally be the case. With the gue running rampant in the city and the quarantine order issued, no one was allowed inside or outside of the city. This would prevent any further spread of the gue at the cost of trade influx. But it was price he was ready to pay. Or at least his Shahanshah was. When camping in front of the main gate, Farrukhzad was thinking about the future. Will it really be alright? Will his Shahanshah be able to keep the empire united? He did not know, yet he believed. He saw something in that child-emperor, something that made him want to give it a try. At least until things lookpletely unrepairable. He was a man of quick but rational thinking. He knew when the Empire would be beyond saving. And now wasn''t the time. At least he thought so.


    The next day, someone emerged from until now closed city gates. Well, not one person, but a few. At least ten. They all wore protective masks, most likely filled with herbs to stimte the smell of rotting corpses and dying people that for sure ensued in the city. They were the subjects of Tabarestan''s marzban Darius. By his subjects in meant his court physicians with their respective disciples or assistants. They came to collect the funding of their efforts and some additional "mary gift" from their Shahanshah, should they spread his name far and wide in the city. Farrukhzad also brought medical supplies with him, at least these that couldst for the duration of the journey. Because, what use would the money have if they didn''t have medicaments? When talking to Farrukhzad, they retained some distance between him.


    "Honourable wuzurg framadan, I greet you on behalf of the physicians and doctors here in Rasht. I am Darab, and I lead the relief effort here in Rasht." said the man in the centre, a bit muffled by the mask and the distance. Farrukhzad had to strain his ears to hear him properly.


    "I also greet you, doctor Darab. And I thank you for your effort. I bring funding from my Shahanshah, may he be immortal, for you to use. It should epass the price of all supplies needed for your effort and of course, a honest pay for your work. We have also brought you supplies and rations, so you can withstand the quarantine. I am sure I can count on you to take care of it''s redistribution, right?"


    "Yes, but of course, honourable wuzurg framadan." said the man and sent someone halfway to collect the supplies, which were all stacked on a cattle-drawn wagon. As another of Farrukhzad men led the cattle to pull the carriage towards them, Farrukhzad ced another pouch of gold on the carriage. Darab, obviously surprised by this looked perplexed, even trough his face mask.


    "''Tis but a gift from my Shahanshah, an extra let''s say. Be sure to spread it in the city, how our Shahanshah helped you."


    "But of course, honourable wuzurg framadar."


    Darab then turned around, said something to the two men behind him and then turned back to Farrukhzad.


    "Then, dear Darab, I think this concludes our meeting. I wish you well. Good luck, and I hope your efforts won''t be in vain. And I also hope that your results will be satisfying."


    After that, Darab, together with his followers and the carriage went back into the city. Farrukhzad hoped that everyone gets at least some rations, as it was basically clear that most of the rations will be sold to those who can pay the most. Everyone was greedy, but it wasn''t like he couldn''t understand those people. These were hard times toe by, especially for physicians, who were expected to do all the work with minimal pay, mainly during epidemics like this. Farrukhzad sighed. Although he had technically one third of his journey behind him, it was the easiest part. The hardest part was still toe.


    ---


    Yazdegerd was sitting in the guestroom, looking at a kid devouring chicken and drinking water with it. He sighed. He really thought this kid was about his age, but apparently, he was four years younger. And the man with him was only fifty-four. The man was also eating, but looked more refined when he did. Also, he drank wine and Yazdegerd was told heined about this wine''s quality. He of course wasn''t served the wine the Shahanshah and his trusted ones drank, but it still wasn''t the cheapest one. Old man probably grew on some high quality one.


    Yazdegerd let them eat and fill their stomachs, and then spoke.


    "What is your name, old man?"


    "I am Bashir, former magi of Herat."


    "Magi of Herat? That is a very prestigious position. And yet, as a priest of Ahura Mazda, you believe in reincarnation? Do you not know our religion is mutually exclusive with reincarnation?"


    "Of course I know, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. When I found the child, I did not think of him as a reincarnate. But when traveling, I met a Manichaean priest named Savid. He told me about the option this child is a reincarnate of someone. And I think he is right."


    Yazdegerd thought about it for a while. There sure were Zoroastrians who were directly influenced by Manichaeism, and those believed in the so called process of reincarnation. Yazdegerd himself didn''t believe the man, same as he didn''t believe in reincarnation. But the old man seemed very devout about the idea of the child being a reincarnate. And if he really was magi of Herat, that only added to its validity. If he wanted to use them as a means to achieve dominance over religion in state, as a political tool, he had to act quickly.


    "Okay, Bashir. I will house you in my pce and help the young one get the recognition he deserves. Under one condition."

 Chapter 11: Promise based on a lie

    <h4>Chapter 11: Promise based on a lie</h4>


    "Okay, Bashir. I will house you in my pce and help the young one get the recognition he deserves. Under one condition."


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, under what condition?"


    "You will serve me, and me only. You shall follow mymands and act ording to my wishes. If you can not do that, I shall execute both of you for heresy and defamation of our prophet. Choose ordingly."


    Yazdegerd didn''t give the two men much choice in this matter. They had to subdue to Yazdegerd, or die. And they weren''t the only one who didn''t want to die. Yazdegerd also didn''t want to execute them, so he believed their choice will be the right one.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, I ept your gracious offer. We shall serve you and follow your everymand, in ordance with your and our lord''s wishes."


    Yazdegerd didn''t mind that he added the lord part in his speech of loyalty. It could be said that he was happy he did, as it only made Yazdegerd to feel much closer to his goal of controlling state religion. But he still had a lot to deal with in this matter. After all, he only achieved getting some credible person to lead the religion in his Empire, as his puppet of course. Next step he had to make was to actually deal with the current religious leaders ¨C clergy. The same clergy that siphoned from the Empire''s and peoples funds for years. After Khosrow II. died, his son Kavadh II. didn''t have stable reign. Well, he didn''t really reign, as he died few months after coronation on gue. After that, the country was in turmoil, constantly changing rulers over the course of few years. And with the coronation of Yazdegerd III., promise of stability and better days came, as the young Shah started to consolidate power in his Empire. But the clergy, who took advantage of the situation, the civil war and constant turmoil only hurt the realm by conspiring against anyone who wouldn''t support them and their right to be rich. As such, Yazdegerd was pretty sure that even now, someone from the clergy is already plotting his demise. This is one of the reasons he chose Jalinus as his hazarbed, ormander of pce guard and pce administrator. As a Christian, Jalinus was less likely to be bribed by the clergy that considered his religion and belief to be heretical. Of course, there were also other factors. For example, Jalinus didn''t have family, thus having no ties and nothing to ckmail him with. He was a perfect hazarbed for a Shah in this situation. Nearly perfect.


    Piruz was on the move. He led the army along the Khorasan roads in the direction of Merv. He didn''t n to go and meet the G?kt¨¹rks. His onlymand he had to follow was "hold Merv at all costs." And he nned to do just that, not willing to do anything more. He knew how hard it is tomand an army of thousands, mainly during march, where rations aren''t exactly abundant. And seeking to have all of the men follow him and hismands wasn''t exactly easy. But he managed, mainly due to his previous experience. After all, he did have few battles behind him, both where he won and where he lost. And as former wuzurg framadar, he had skills in administration and organization ofrge projects. How could he not handle few kids and old men, he thought. Well, it turned out to be much harder than he thought. He was out of form, which is to no surprise when taking into ount that until now he had leisure for about year and a half, not doing anything.


    "Maybe I am too old for this." said not even forty-year old man. But when he thought of Bahman Jaduya, man, who was still serving as a general, although being well over fifty, he sighed. This was not getting him anywhere. After having to deal with an unrest in his army caused by ack of wine, he was not angry, but just frustrated. His soldiers weren''t happy, because they were marching into war. Not even because ofck of rations or the hot scorching Khorasani deserts. They were angry, because they ran out of wine and the first stop, where they would resupply and rest is still few days from here. Piruz eventually calmed them down, but he had to promise to provide them with a stable supply next time. The only thing he hoped for was that his given budget would suffice. It had to.


    After few days, he was tired of the constant whining andining. But they were only a few hours from Nishapur, where he was supposed to resupply. And there, he also was supposed to buy enough wine to ensure the soldiers won''tin. Technically, he didn''t have to buy the wine. But he himself wanted to. Because, ording to his own logic, "It''s better if your soldiers fight because of what you did, than if they desert you because of what you didn''t."


    It was always better to ensure the high morale and spirits of the army. Because, despitemon beliefs, it really was soldiers that won battles. And moral was an important part of every soldier, and if Piruz could raise up the morale of his soldiers just by buying them wine, for which he didn''t even pay from his own, it was a huge win. Or so he thought.


    It waste in the afternoon after he came back from the city, followed by his trusted ones and a pair of guards. Behind him, some soldiers were dragging a huge carts loaded with storage boxes which were basically early versions of barrels. Every soldier who saw this pretty much instantly knew what that meant. He kept his promise and secured their wine, which melted every soldiers heart. He himself felt relieved that they even had this quantity of wine. He rounded up a couple of those literate soldiers and he tasked them with rationing the wine, so every soldier gets fixed amount, or else the wine would be gone in a few days.


    What he was not relieved about was the rest of the journey that awaited him.

 Chapter 12: Amol, city of commerce and problems

    <h4>Chapter 12: Amol, city ofmerce and problems</h4>


    Farrukhzad made his way into the city of Amol, second stop on his journey. It was much bigger city than Rasht ¨Cmerce from India and Caspian Sea flowed through here to the hearnd of Iran and then continued along the Silk road into Egypt and Anatolia. An important city, its inhabitants'' livelihood was centred aroundmerce and trade. But Farrukhzad would never think that they wouldn''t quarantine the city because of that.


    When he arrived, a city, which should''ve been under quarantine to prevent the spread of the gue opened it''s gates to greet him, merchants flowing in and out, as if no gue was ravaging the city. He at first thought that the reports might''ve been invalid or outdated maybe. But he came to realize the gue''s presence very quickly, as they dumped another body from the walls into a pit that was dug under the walls. He just looked at the body flying down into the pit with helplessness in his eyes.


    "Great." he thought. Another problem in his hands. He didn''t want to bother finding out or investigating why exactly was the city not under quarantine. His job was to quarantine it and make sure the supplies and funds are handed over. And to do that, he had no choice than to go inside the city, risking contracting the gue. Or, well, he had. He sent some men to find town mayor or any other official who could take up the task of taking over the supplies and funding. So he sent them. Three, fully armed men with makeshift facemasks and a permit from wuzurg framadar himself. Their arms were, of course, for persuasive purposes only.


    After about an hour, maybe two, the three men returned, dragging someone with them. The person they took looked very, very scared.


    "Honourable wuzurg framadar, I don''t believe I did anything that would deserve me this treatment."


    Once Farrukhzad noticed the man and how his guards were dragging him, he burst out of his chair and went up to him.


    "Great." he thought. "Depending on who this is, it could cost me my office. Great."


    After he was just in front of that person, he helped him get up and smiled on him. The man was of average height, dark brown hair and almond eyes.


    "I hope you, good sir, can forgive the treatment these three skunks gave you. I apologize in their behalf." Then he shot an angry look at the three soldiers, who were already kneeling and begging for forgiveness.


    "Now,e here with me to discuss the matters at hand. This way, please." he led the person while he shouted "And someone, take these three away. I don''t want to see them."


    After that, they both sat in Farrukhzad''s tent in afortable chair. Sam then brought them a jug of wine and two cups. Farrukhzad dismissed him and introduced himself.


    "Farrukhzad, wuzurg framadar of the Sassanid Empire. With whom do I have the honour?"


    "Yazdan, mayor of Amol, in the service of marzban Darius. And the honour is all mine. What leads someone of your standing here?"


    "Great, so they dragged here a mayor of Amol? Just great." thought Farrukhzad to himself.


    "Of course, my reasons. But first, let me again apologize for the rough treatment my guards gave you. I shall have them disciplined."


    "Please do, honourable wuzurg framadar. Besides that, it doesn''t really bother me anymore."


    Farrukhzad was a bit surprised that Yazdan coped with it so quickly.


    "Thank you. Well then, the reason of my presence here is quite simple ¨C the gue. I have to ask you, good sir, why isn''t Amol quarantined, ording to the orders I sent? Did you not get the orders?"


    Yazdan looked a bit confused when he heard the word "gue", but quickly reverted and seemed to understand what was going on.


    "Honourable wuzurg framadar, the gue is long gone in this city, for a few weeks at least. I sent a message to Ctesiphon to inform our Shahanshah, may he be immortal. Did it not arrive?"


    Well, it may have arrived, but the problem is that Shahanshah was currently in Istakhr, not in Ctesiphon. Not like Farrukhzad could tell that and show that his Shahanshah''s weakness and helplessness.


    "It most likely didn''t. But nevermind that. I just saw someone dropping a corpse into the pit from the walls though. Or was it not a victim of gue?"


    "Oh, it most likely was. You know, Amol is a big city and even after a few weeks since the epidemics calmed down, we still find new corpses every day. Not everyone reported having a gue, as they would be isted and some just couldn''t afford it. And so, most of them died in solitude or infected their close ones, who died with them. Thankfully, now it seems no one with the gue lives anymore."


    If the gue was taken care of, Farrukhzad couldn''t spread his Shahanshah''s name and couldn''t increase his poprity through funding the relief effort. He had to think of something.


    "So, the gue is gone? So the city is not in trouble anymore?"


    "Oh please, honourable wuzurg framadar. The gue left more problems than it took with her. We are low on medical supplies, as most of them were used to treat the infected. Also, graveyards, physicians and corpse burners are understaffed and poorly paid. And I have to deal with this all. Weck a lot of things, but not problems."


    "My good sir, it just happened that our Shahanshah, may he be immortal, sent me to make sure each city gets sufficient supplies and funding during the epidemic. I of course, can, in the name of our Shahanshah give all of these supplies as a present from him."


    Yazdan looked relieved for a while, but after seeing Farrukhzad''s smile, something didn''t sit right with him.


    "That sound too good to be true, honourable wuzurg framadar. What is the condition of epting such a gift?"


    "Make sure to specifically highlight ites from our Shahanshah, may he be immortal." said Farrukhzad, while handing Yazdan an extra pouch of gold. Yazdan looked at the pouch and grinned.


    "That can be done. I thank you, both honourable wuzurg framadar, and specifically our Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    After that, both of the men stood up and shook hands. Then they parted ways, Yazdan having called some of his men to help moving the supplies, while tying the pouch from Farrukhzad to his belt.


    "A pleasure doing business with you." said Farrukhzad quietly.


    After a while, Farrukhzad went back to his camp.


    "Listends, we''ll be staying here for a few days to see whether we contracted the gue or not. Believe me, you don''t want to travel with a burden like that."


    And so, his journey came to a stop which was not taken into ount.

 Chapter 13: To be a ruler

    <h4>Chapter 13: To be a ruler</h4>


    When Jabh arrived in Jabiyah, his capital city, he didn''t get a warm wee. Instead, reports of military movements south, in Arabia, came to him. Right now, he was d that Persians won''t, hopefully, be Roman enemies. He promised his Basileus to arrange an envoy to the Persian Shahanshah. It seems Basileus''s spywork was functioning well, as they revealed the current Shahanshah''s seat of power isn''t in Ctesiphon, but rather in Istakhr. And, after all, Istakhr wasn''t very as far away from Jabiyah as it was from Constantinople. He immediately got into work, as he employed about two dozen of men for this envoy, including himself. In a private conversation he held with Basileus, he was given the documents containing the "offer of cooperation." Also, he was appointed as the leader of the envoy and diplomat for this mission simultaneously. And now, he also had the Arabian matter to deal with. He had to start preparing uppermost defenses, so even if the reports are invalid, they are ready.


    After he rewrote the reports into a suitable form, both easy to read and understand, he had them sealed with a seal, which meant this letter is for Basileus'' eyes only. After he gave the letter to the messenger, he wanted to make sure that proper defense is ready and that hismanders and officers know what to do. He knew that if the Arabs don''t attack in a few weeks, two months at most, they most likely won''t attack. At least for a while. So his defensive preparations counted just with that.


    Day and a half passed, Jabh was sitting in his living room, quietly drinking wine, which was mixed with honey, as he liked it. It helped him relieve the stress this job was putting on him. As a king of most likely thest Arab Christian kingdom, everyone had great expectations on him, which only made him suffer under more pressure. And to cope with that, he indulged himself in alcoholism, drinking many kinds of liquors and drinks, before finally settling down with honeyed wine. And he wasn''t the only one who dealt with the pressure and stress simrly. For example, Yazdegerd was also fond of drinking wine, although diluted with water. Heraclius was currently enjoying apany of both wine and women alike. And Abu Bakr? He was an ambitious man, but not for himself, but for his people. And so, his main way of coping with stress was praying. Praying about the mightiness and ambitions he had in mind for his people. Everyone coped with their pressure simrly ¨C by pleasure, but not identically. And Jabh wasn''t an exception.


    And so wasn''t Yazdegerd, currently drinking his water diluted wine, sitting in hisfortable chair covered with silk. te with his dinner, containing roastedmb, eggnts, onions, and other vegetables, was ced on the table before him. But he didn''t have the appetite. Currently, his mind was full of thoughts, both dark and light, both depressing and joyful. That was his life currently, swinging between moods to amodate the expectations of others, never having the chance to show his actual self. In front of his generals, he had to act with an iron fist, in front of his administrators, he had to think rationally and clearly, but in front of all his subjects, he had to act like a Shahanshah. He circled with the wine inside his cup, looking at it with distaste. He had no idea what to do from now on. He had to think,e up with some sort of n, but his brain wasn''t responding to his wishes, noting up with anything that would even pass as a n. After around half an hour, having his wine drunk and his head heavy and messy, he leaned against the palm of his hand, sighing.


    "Why I am so... imperfect?"


    ---


    Heraclius was lying in his gardens, surrounded by wine, fruit and women. Although his body was in something very simr to paradise, his head wasn''t. He had this uneasy feeling in his head. Nicetas and Philippicus were seen together very oftenst month. Both of them were against Basileus'' decision to befriend Persia and cooperate with them. Instead, they wanted revenge. Revenge for the war and chaos Persians plunged Romans into. He was a bit paranoid about them, but he trusted Nicetas, his cousin, and even to some point Philippicus, his magister militum. But this uneasy feeling, he couldn''t get it out from his head. After a while, he began feeling frustration with his own way of thinking, so he had servant bring him some strong wine. Then, he sat up and drank the whole cup of wine in few gulps. He wanted to relieve himself, the frustration that was pent up in him. He then threw the cup on the ground, only to watch the cup fall down and roll on the ground. Then he frowned.


    "What do you think, dear Phocas. Do I rule better?"


    ---


    Abu Bakr was currently conducting his daily prayer. As he was praying, his mind eventually wandered off into thend of his fantasy. There, he saw mighty armies marching, fighting hard battles, outnumbered and outmatched, only to emerge victorious in the end. That was the ambition he had for his nation. He had perfect religion, now he needed a perfect way of spreading it. And what is more perfect, than forceful conversion, raids and plunders, all in the name of a perfect religion, conducted by a perfect army. He had it all in his grasp, a perfect opportunity. His neighbours weak, with him stronger than ever. He didn''t see any danger in it. All he saw was perfection. Even his sessors were perfect, at least those who had chance of overtaking his office. He was blinded by the perfection he himself created, refusing to see that this perfect army of his was poorly paid and equipped. He refused to see the ws of the religion he deemed to be perfect. And, he also refused to see the ws of this so-called "perfect" opportunity. After he finished his prayer, he stood up and went on the balcony, to be on fresh air for a while.


    "Such a perfect world we live in."

 Chapter 14: The weight of life

    <h4>Chapter 14: The weight of life</h4>


    After Jabh got some rest from the constant stress of dealing with his officers, he started preparing the envoy. He had his servants prepare gifts, such as rare chinaware, silk clothing and even a pair of noble steeds. He had supplies, carts, transports and feeding for the steeds prepared, along with the two dozen men he employed for this mission. This all was done in about a day. He also had prepared how the negotiation process would go, as he wanted to quickly take control of the negotiations. His men also prepared for him a formal clothing, that was to be worn only during the negotiations. After a final preparations and checking everything is in ce and where it is supposed to be, Jabh embarked on a journey to Istakhr.


    ---


    Rostam walked the pce corridor, a corridor he knew very well. Decorated with all kinds of pottery, paintings and busts, he stopped in front of a certain door. It was night, sun no longer shining and only torches illuminated his tall figure, which cast a long shadow on the ground. His brownish eyebrows frowned as he knocked on the door.


    "Who''s there?" a high, almost childish voice came out. It was the voice of his liege.


    "Rostam Farrokhzad, your spahbed, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal." he said, in a cold, monotone voice. Yazdegerd instantly knew that something was wrong.


    "You may enter." rung the voice. Rostam opened the door, still frowning, a stack of papers in his hand. Once he entered, he instantly knelt.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be-"


    "My spahbed, please. What happened?"


    After being interrupted by his Shahanshah, Rostam nodded and stood up, his frown not disappearing from his face.


    "Very well, my liege. Do you remember the garrison reinforcements you had sent into Atropatene region to counter the Khazars?"


    "Of course I do, my spahbed. Continue."


    "Half of them, that is around 1500 soldiers never arrived."


    Yazdegerd was horrified, and it showed in his face. Both eyes and mouth wide open, heart beating quickly and loss of breath. It came as quickly as a shot from an archer, like a shock meaning to scare you away. Now, Yazdegerd didn''t frown. He averted his eyes and looked down.


    "I see. How did they die?"


    "It seems that wandering Khazar groups got them after they divided because they headed to different cities. Ambush andplete extermination. Mainly in remote locations, like mountains or forests. ording to this, they found one of the sites of battle. One-sided massacre, ambushed at night and killed. But not looted. It seems Khazars killed them only for their own pleasure. They also found a few dead Khazars, so it seems they fought back."


    After hearing this horrifying story about how these men walked into a death trap, Yazdegerd couldn''t help but feel guilty of it. But what could he do? The men were dead, ughtered with himpletely helpless.


    "Compensate their families ordingly. It is the least I can do."


    "But, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal, we can''t afford topensate every family of every fallen soldier. What if tens of thousands of soldiers die in a war. Will youpensate every dead soldier''s family?"


    Yazdegerd wanted to cry, shout and yell simultaneously. But, somehow, he managed to contain his emotions inside him. He knew his spahbed was right, and that in this time, he couldn''t afford to spend money on something like this.


    "My spahbed, if I show my benevolence towards the people, won''t they ept me?"


    "But, my Shahansah-"


    "Enough. I am the Shahanshah, not you. Think of it as a one time mary investment, my spahbed."


    "As you wish, my Shahanshah."


    After this exchange, Yazdegerd didn''t have an appetite to talk with anyone any further. He stayed in his room, thinking about the soldiers. What if he didn''t send them there? Would they be now still living their life, with their family and dear ones? He didn''t know, and this ignorance gnawed at him from inside. Lost in thoughts and mind, he eventually stopped caring about it. Well, more like he learned how to hide that he cares. Thousands will die under his rule, both directly affected by him or not. And if he felt guilt for the death of every one of them, it would break him for sure. He needed to clear his mind, maybe even forget, at least for a while. So he had wine brought to him. Not water diluted. He wasn''t sure it was the right choice, but it was the necessary one. And so, in the age of nine, Yazdegerd III., Shahanshah of Iran and Aniran drunk himself.


    After he woke up next day, a sudden rush of memories fromst night caught up to him. He remembered feeling guilty, he remembered what he felt, but not the feeling itself. He was d. So d that he remembered about Bashir and that kid who was supposed to be Zoroaster''s reincarnation. Suddenly, an idea striked his mind. An idea, that could help him in his n of concentrating the power to him. He immediately stood up, dressed himself and headed for their room. And he found them there. Both were quite surprised by his sudden visit, as it wasn''t even seven in the morning. But as a priest, Bashir was used to early morning routines when he was on the road, and so was the child. They were both already awake, doing what they could to kill time.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal." said Bashir immediately upon noticing the young Shah and he knelt, forcing down the kid to also kneel. "What brings you here at such an early hour?"


    Yazdegerd waved off their greeting and gestured for them to stop kneeling.


    "From tomorrow, you shall start preaching again."


    Bashir looked at the young Shah, perplexed and startled simultaneously.


    "I will give you my personal approval to preach and support. I shall also grant you new clothes. And you, in exchange, will go from city to city and preach. Preach about me, the child and our lord Ahura Mazda. And bring me results. Oh, and, this isn''t an offer."


    Bashir, still looking a bit confused thought it over, but after he understood he can''t refuse, he sighed a bit. Yazdegerd''s idea was to have this man preach around the country to challenge the corrupt and greedy clergy and to let people find new hope and trust for Zoroastrianism. That was his n with Bashir, who reluctantly epted his irrefusable offer. And the next day, armed with new clothes, wisdom, money and a child, which Yazdegerd found out was mute, Bashir took off to preach about the new way of Zoroastrianism. About a prophet, whose prophecy wasn''t fully fulfilled yet.

 Chapter 15: Battle of Merv

    <h4>Chapter 15: Battle of Merv</h4>


    Piruz Khosrow, renowned general and leader, experienced aristocrat andndowner was, yes, surprised. Very surprised. Not in a good way. Instead of city, opening its gates and weing them as their saviours from the G?kt¨¹rk menace, while its marzban weed them personally, he saw a city in despair, crying for help and awaiting release. G?kt¨¹rks moved much quickly than he anticipated and besieged Merv before he even got there. Inside, he med himself for bing soft and buying the soldiers the wine, as that extra baggage only slowed them down. But now was not the time to me yourself. The G?kt¨¹rks seemed to not notice him, as their camp was rtively calm and quiet, and their soldiers surely didn''t look like they were preparing to fight. He immediately ryed themand to stop marching andy low to not be spotted. He then observed their camp for a while,municating with othermanders and discussing what to do. After a while he ryedstmand. Prepare for fight.


    Piruz had the moment of surprise in his hands, even though he was outnumbered with most likely poorer troops. But his soldiers were full of n, and morale was on all-time high. They had the will and courage to fight, already sharpening their spears and sabres. Piruz discussed the strategy of the attack. They would use the moment of surprise to attack the camp and try to wipe out as many of them as possible before they would be able to regroup. Then, Piruz had to risk a bit. He relied on the city garrison, which was around three thousand men, to go out of the city and help them. If they did that, enemy would get surrounded from both sides and, unable to flee, would eventually sumb. But if they wouldn''te, well, it would be a massacre. On both sides.


    After the initial preparations, Piruz ordered to attack, with everymander of respective parts of the army responding ordingly, initiating the attack. But something went wrong. The enemy spotted them much earlier then Piruz counted with. A rain of arrows fell on his army, while enemy soldiers were stuffing themselves into an armour, looking around for their weapons. But even if the enemy archers were already shooting, the charge went rtively well and most of the enemy soldiers didn''t get the chance to even put their armour on before spear impaled them. G?kt¨¹rks, normally using their cavalry to fight, were in big disadvantage. Their cavalrymen weren''t as useful when on foot. And it was proved to be true when they fell one by one to Persian infantrymen, as if they were wheat.


    But it went so well only in the beginning. After the initial chaos that was caused in the camp by the sudden attack, G?kt¨¹rk soldiers started rallying around some man, who was organizing them into a proper defensive line. He was, presumably, a general of this army. And experienced one at that. He instantly drew the soldiers from the chaos that ensued after the attack and quickly rebuilt them into a proper defensive formation. When he was finished, it was no longer that chaotic crowd that didn''t even fight back that stood before Piruz, now it was a proper army that posed a threat. And Piruz had to deal with this situation. Before him stood no less than around ten thousand men, while he still had around twelve thousand. Taking them head-on was pure suicide and so he did the only thing that he thought would be usible, still waiting for the city''s garrison toe and support them in the battle. After he ryed his strategy to hismanders, he was ready to begin realizing the n. After a while, horn could be heard blowing. It was time.


    The twelve-something thousand army started charging the G?kt¨¹rks, who already had their spears and sabres ready for Persians. At first nce, one would say Piruz wanted to use their numbers and charge them head-on, overwhelming them. But he did not do such thing. When the army was in a certain distance from the enemy, it started stretching to sides,pletely encircling the enemy from all sides but behind. As an eagle who stretches his wings, the Persians pushed the G?kt¨¹rks into a crowded formation. G?kt¨¹rks tried to flee through the gap Persians left them from behind. And some did, while other fought like a wild beast. But the battle was not yet won. Persians were stretched thin and every second, a breach on the line was more possible than before. Soldiers were dying on both sides, but G?kt¨¹rks eventually started to gain upper hand over the young and elderly soldiers. Piruz of course saw that, and, being not only renownedmander, but also a skilled fighter, decided to go into the fray to support his soldiers. His personal guards were following him as he rode into battle which oue hung on a thread. But then, he saw something that relieved his heart. He saw the city gates of Merv opening in front of him, soldiers emerging from them and ramming into the exposed back of the G?kt¨¹rks. Now Piruz didn''t have to hesitate ¨C he grabbed his sabre firm and charged into the mass of bodies, joining the fight as regr soldier.


    His personal guards were following him as he rode into battle which oue hung on a thread. But then, he saw something that relieved his heart. He saw the city gates of Merv opening in front of him, soldiers emerging from them and ramming into the exposed back of the G?kt¨¹rks. Now Piruz didn''t have to hesitate ¨C he grabbed his sabre firm and charged into the mass of bodies, joining the fight as regr soldier. The circle encircling the G?kt¨¹rks turned into a controlled massacre. G?kt¨¹rks, realizing they are surrounded from all sides tried to break the encirclement and retreat, but all in vain. Their every try ended in a one-sided massacre by the Persians. Some knelt and begged for mercy, some fought until theirst breath and some yed dead, only to be eventually stomped to death. It was a cruel battle, one that woulde into history as the "Merv meat grinder."


    Every G?kt¨¹rk soldier was either killed or enved, and their general was executed in a horrific way. They put him into a trunk, where he was forced to drink milk and eat honey ¨C ingredient, that made him to have diarrhea. Then, worms and rats, attracted by his excrements literally ate him alive from inside, while he couldn''t do anything about it. It was a price to pay for assaulting Empire of Iranians. But Persian army didn''te unscathed from it either. Around four thousand were lost while another two thousand was hurt with about quarter of them not being able to ever fight again. But he won, Merv didn''t fall and G?kt¨¹rks were banished. And now, although not ording to Piruz''s ns, as he wanted to leisure around in Merv while waiting for the enemy to show themselves, he had to head back home. Back to his Shahanshah.

 Chapter 16: Victors write history

    <h4>Chapter 16: Victors write history</h4>


    Piruz was tired. And rightly so. He has won the first big battle Persians have won in thest ten, maybe twenty years. After the battle, soldiers, horses,manders, everyone was tired. They let the city garrison and itsmander to take care of salvaging the battlegrounds. Enemy soldiers weapons, armour most of their belongings were salvaged forter use. Except from any jewels or other more expensive possessions, those were scavenged by the remaining soldiers. Tents and horses were also taken by the city. Piruz''s army were weed into the city as its saviours, hosting a feast for them. Wine ran plentiful, women were all around. And what more would soldier need? They saved the city from the horrific feat that awaited them, should the siege continue, so the feast was glorious. Piruz was enjoying the feast as well ¨C he deserved it. At least for this one day. This was the day of victory and glory, and he was sure as hell he wanted to enjoy it. For the next few days though, that was a different matter. He needed to head back to Istakhr, but first he had to send report about the battle''s oue. Then he wanted to talk with local marzban to discuss supplies and other matters. He had a lot to do, but right now had no need to think about these duties. And so, the victorious army partied and drank till they could.


    Next morning, Piruz woke up with a painful headache in a room he didn''t recognize. He had a horrible hangover from all the drinking yesterday, not remembering anything. The room was well decorated, spacious and tidy. He was only in his underpants with his clothes scattered all over. Next to him was lying a naked woman. He immediately understood what happened and punched himself as a form of punishment. He quickly stood, dressing himself up. He then looked back at the bed with painful expression. He wanted to sleep a bit longer, but duties called. Duties he couldn''t ignore. After drinking a lot of water, he washed his mouth with a vine-based mouth wash and chewed on fennel to remove the bad breath. Then, after making sure he had everything, set off to meet local marzban, Mahoe Suri. Walking the wide corridors with nothing but his clothes and sabre was a weird feeling for him. He was led by a servant of Mahoe, who came to pick Piruz up. After few minutes, that felt much longer in these corridors, they arrived in front of a magnificently decorated doors. Entering, they found a spacious room with all sorts of paintings and busts and other decorations, like sabres and armour sets. It sure was a sight to see. At the centre, there was a table made of dark wood, most likely painted, with golden linings. Behind the table, a man with dark hair and inviting smile sat.


    "General Piruz Khosrow, I''m d to meet you."


    "Likewise, marzban Mahoe Suri. I must thank you for the feast you held for us. It''s a great symbol of appreciation for my soldiers."


    "Oh, please. If someone should be thanking, it would be me. After all, it was you who saved my city from those barbarians. I am grateful."


    "I was sent here by the order of our Shahanshah, may he be immortal. If not for him, I wouldn''t be here."


    Mahoe''s eyes widened a bit in surprise. He wasn''t expecting that child-emperor to be behind this. His opinion of him went a bit higher after this revtion.


    "Then, I also thank our Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    "Now, dear marzban, I would like to ask you and your city for a few favours."


    "General Piruz, just say a word. Just say."


    "Thank you. I will need enough supplies to make the march back, or at least into the nearest city. I would also like if you could take care of the wounded. And, also, make sure to bring our fallen onto the Towers of Silence and to burn the enemy corpses. We''ll leave the battlefield loot to you. And,st thing, I would ask for a paper and something to write with."


    "Of course, general Piruz. I can give you enough supplies to march at least to Zarang. There you can resupply and continue to Ctesiphon. Would that be enough?"


    After being initially surprised, Piruz quickly understood that marzban doesn''t know about the fact that Shahanshah rules from Istakhr. Thinking about the supplies, Merv must''ve been tired and undersupplied because of the recent siege. It made sense he couldn''t give them rations that wouldst to Istakhr.


    "Thank you, dear marzban. But most urgent is the paper and something to write with, if you could."


    "But of course."


    Said Mahoe and took a quill and a paper from his desk. Then he left the office, presumably understanding that the report is nothing he had any right to see. Piruz, after Mahoe left, started writing.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, I write to you this report of battle at Merv as of one day after the battle ended. The enemy waspletely annihted with those surviving enved. As of this day, I reckon about four thousand of our men were lost in the fight with around two thousand wounded, from them five hundred not likely to be able to ever fight for Empire of Iranians again. I will present you with the full and more detailed report once I arrive.


    Piruz Khosrow"


    Of course, this "letter" was only to let Shahanshah know that the battle was won. A mere formality that served only as a means to let his ruler quickly know about Piruz''s achievements. Piruz first had to know the exact numbers to make a full, detailed report. But that report would be made by some servant of his, so he brushed it off. After all, this was hisst day in Merv, so he wanted to enjoy it a bit. And so, letting all responsibilities aside, he went on a stroll.

 Chapter 17: A deal to remember

    <h4>Chapter 17: A deal to remember</h4>


    Yazdegerd was seated on his throne, his very own crown on his head, clothed into ceremonial outfit, waiting patiently. On the inside, he was nervous, and his head was burning. This was the day he was meant to meet with the Roman envoy, presumably to discuss something. On his sides, two darigan members were standing there, guarding him with other few scattered all over the room. The room was big, with all sorts of decorations like flowers, armour pieces and even weapons. His throne was quitefortable actually, covered in soft silk and the handles lined with gold. His crown, specifically made for him, was a bit heavy, but he had to bear with it. At least here, in his throne room. His clothes were official royal outfit, made from silk with ornaments and other symbols sewn on it. He waited, patiently, for around five minutes. Then, the door opened and a group of around six men entered, with four of them being bodyguards. Darigan soldiers immediately tightened their grip on their weapons, ready to defend their Shahanshah. Behind Yazdegerd was a window, into which light shined, so his face couldn''t be seen clearly. The envoys knelt to show respect to the ruler of another realm. Yazdegerd didn''t like these formalities that much but had to bear with it. After they knelt, Yazdegerd''s crier introduced them.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, Jabh ibn al-Aiham, King of Ghassanids and an envoy from the Roman empire with hispany."


    Next to Jabh, another man with very pretty clothing was kneeling. He was most likely interpreter ¨C Jabh seemed to not be able to speak Middle Persian. Yazdegerd decided to surprise him. Coming from a great Khosrow II. family, he was given an advanced education, even after his father''s and grandfather''s death. His education stopped when he ascended the throne, but he was making ns for it to continue. After all, he was still but a child, child given too much responsibilities and expectations. But when he still had his formal education, few of the subjects he had learned was Greek and Armeniannguages. And he intended to make these into use.


    "I wee you, King Jabh. I am Yazdegerd III., Shahanshah of Iran and Aniran, Emperor of all Iranians. Please, stand up."


    Jabh was clearly surprised to hear the child-emperor speak to him in a decent Greek, although with a ent. Hispany was clearly surprised too as they murmured a bit. Then Jabh gestured them to stood up. And so they did.


    "I thank you humbly, Your Majesty. Shall we begin?"


    Jabh tried to take control of the negotiations as fast as possible, trying to initiate the discussion. Yazdegerd slowly descended down to theirpany, appearing smaller and smaller, until standing there, before them, barely reaching Jabh''s shoulder. What did you expect from a nine-year-old? Apart from that, he was actually a bit higher than average nine-year-old, so that yed into his cards. He gestured for a servant toe to him, whispering into his ears in Middle Persian.


    "Bring me my spahbed, as quickly as possible."


    Jabh looked a bit puzzled by this but didn''t think it over. He didn''t understand Middle Persian, so he had his interpreter with him, but now that he knew the young Shah could speak Greek, he didn''t think he was needed. And that would also stop the young Shah for bringing in anyone that would help him with negotiations, leaving Yazdegerd to Jabh''s mercy.


    "Your Highness, I see you have the higher understanding of the Greeknguage. It seems my interpreter won''t be needed then, I presume."


    Yazdegerd quickly turned to Jabh with a smile.


    "Please, King Jabh. Although I appreciate your ttering, my Greek is a bit... rusty. I don''t have confidence in it."


    Without saying it directly, Yazdegerd basically said he wants someone to be there with him. With Jabh having no way to refuse, he sighed and humbly agreed. Yazdegerd once again whispered something to another servant, who just simply nodded.


    "My servant here will lead you into the negotiating room. I''ll join you immediately, so please, just wait a bit."


    Jabh nodded, an uneasy feeling getting to him. Then, the same servant whispering to them led them into a fancy-looking room. He and his interpreter sat onto the soft sofa with some maids bringing them jugs of wine and tes filled with dates, oranges and other fruit. They also brought a jug of water and a ss of honey. Jabh didn''t like this even a bit, so he just sat and waited.


    Yazdegerd had his heavy crown removed and put back into its storage case. Then he anxiously waited for Rostam toe to him. After a minute or two, he emerged from the door to Yazdegerd''s left,ing to him and kneeling.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, what did you need from me?"


    "Stand up, please. My dear spahbed, I will need you to apany me as an interpreter to the negotiations with the Romans."


    Rostam stood up, looking a bit surprised nodded silently.


    "I bet you have a lot of experience in negotiations, so I''m sure your help would be great to have."


    "You can count on me, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    After about ten minutes, Jabh was starting to get anxious, when the doors opened and Yazdegerd, together with a tall man with iron expression emerged from them. Although the interpreter was already indulging himself in the wine and food that was prepared on the table, Jabh sat still with a stern expression, observing the young Shah. He has already surprised him once with his knowledge of Greeknguage, so maybe he''ll surprise him once again. And, maybe his Basileus wasn''t so stupid. Maybe she will be in good hands here, in Persia.


    "Now, gentlemen, shall we begin?" said Yazdegerd while Jabh was still in thoughts, taking the opportunity to initiate the negotiations from him. "What is it Emperor of Romans wants from me?" added Yazdegerd.


    "Ah, yes, of course, your Majesty. My Basileus wants to form a sort of contract with you. We call it a contract of cooperation, some may call it-"


    "An alliance?" asked Yazdegerd, disturbing Jabh.


    "Yes, that would be it. And to forge a seal with our two countries, my Basileus offers you a gift of tremendous value. For your eyes only."


    When he said that, he took out a letter from his bag and handed it to Yazdegerd. After reading the letter, Yazdegerd widened his eyes in a shock.

 Chapter 18: Life-changing proposal

    <h4>Chapter 18: Life-changing proposal</h4>


    When he read the letter, his facial expressions gradually formed a shocked expression. Then he frowned. He looked at Jabh, right in his eyes.


    "Is this letter not a forgery? Can you assure me?"


    "Your Majesty, I can assure you this is the exact letter my Basileus gave me for you."


    Yazdegerd frowned.


    "Very well. I presume I can discuss it with my advisor, right?"


    "Do as you please, your Majesty."


    Yazdegerd vaguely nodded towards Rostam, who immediately understood. Then he took two cups with wine and excused themselves. Then they exited the room. They stood in the hall outside of the room silently, Rostam waiting for Yazdegerd to let him know what this is about. Yazdegerd gave him the letter without uttering a word.


    "Read it, my spahbed."


    Rostam looked curiously at Yazdegerd and then at the letter. It was written in Greek script, which Rostam understood. He was a literate man, knowing how to speak manynguages. As he was reading, he sometimes murmured what he read out loud.


    "With a offer of cooperation... to forge a bond of our empires..."


    Then he froze, put the letter down and smiled at Yazdegerd. Yazdegerd immediately knew he was overjoyed from the contents of the letter.


    "My spahbed, tell me, without any courtesy, what do you think would be the best? What should I do? Because I have no idea."


    Rostam took the young Shah''s request to heart. Without any boundaries, he told the young Shah what he thought.


    "Do you have anything against it? I think it is a great opportunity to bond our nations together, to secure a peace for our time. Or maybe you have anyone else sought after?"


    Yazdegerd felt like he should be embarrassed a bit. But he wasn''t. He didn''t really wanted to be. Maybe it was thest bit of a child he once was escaping from him.


    "My spahbed, you should know that I never had the chance or opportunity to fall in love. And now, when Emperor of Romans is offering me his youngest daughter''s hand, I have no idea what to do."


    Ascending the throne at a very young age of eight, Yazdegerd never had the chance to experience the so-called first love, the childish ones. He never got the opportunity to make many friends, having most of his life living without parents in custody or locked somewhere. And when he finally got out, what awaited him wasn''t a life of a child, but a life full of responsibilities. But he never sought after the life that was stolen from him. He never wanted to throw away the responsibilities and live a carefree life of a child. Maybe it was because such life didn''t interest him, maybe because he never knew the joys of such life, never understood it. And during his for now short reign, he never thought about marrying. And thought he won''t have to for at least few years. He gulped a bit of the wine from the cup he brought over.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, this decision is purely on you and you should know I''ll support you whatever decision you''ll make. But, as I said, I think this is a great opportunity."


    "Thank you, my spahbed. I thought it over. And you''re right. I don''t think we''ll get a better opportunity than this one. I''ll ept their proposal. After asking a few questions, of course."


    The doors opened yet again, and Yazdegerd with Rostam emerged from the entrance. Yet their faces weren''t as stern as when they entered for the first time. They were calm. Calm and collected. Yazdegerd sat down whereas Rostam stood next to him.


    "King Jabh, I want you to tell me about her. Name, age, anything you see fit. Then I''ll make my decision."


    "Your Majesty, youngest princess of the Empire of Romans bears the name Roxane, which means "Protectress" in Greek. She is six years old, is bright and cheerful. Has brown hair and emerald eyes-"


    "That will suffice, King Jabh. I do not need to know how she looks like. You will ruin my surprise."


    Jabh smiled at Yazdegerd''s remark ¨C he started to like this young man more and more.


    "I ept the proposal of your Basileus. I ept the engagement. You can return to him with this." said Yazdegerd and started writing a letter for Emperor of Romans. After he finished, he handed the letter to Jabh.


    "Give him this, for his eyes only. I will house you and yourpany for tonight in Pce guestrooms and prepare the supplies for your return. After all, from today on, we are allies."


    Jabh smiled and nodded.


    "Thank you, your Majesty."


    Yazdegerd then proimed the meeting as finished and called for servants. They cleared everything out of the table and then led Jabh with his interpreter, who wasn''t really needed in the end, to the guestrooms. Right now, Jabh was regretting he didn''t drink any of the wine. He just felt like drinking some.


    When the envoys left, Yazdegerd sat down together with Rostam. The meeting was more stressful than he thought it would be. He was d they didn''t mention the change of seat of power ¨C that he was in Istakhr and not in Ctesiphon.


    "You did great, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    "Thank you, my spahbed. But please, without the formalities when we''re in private."


    Rostam smiled and sighed.


    "What will you do now, my Shah? When do you intend to meet you future Shahanshahbanu, or Empress?"


    "Please, my spahbed. I didn''t even think about it. I''ll meet her when the timees. Right now, I don''t really care."


    "My Shah, I do not wish to barge into your private, but hear this one advice from me. I have my wife also because of a political marriage. And breaking such marriage will cause an outrage."


    "And your advice is?"


    "My advice is that you should try to get along with her as much as possible, so you don''t torment yourself, not being able to break the marriage off."


    After hearing that, Yazdegerd immediately started regretting his decision.

 Chapter 19: A chance encounter

    <h4>Chapter 19: A chance encounter</h4>


    Farrukhzad was on the road again. After staying near Amol for a few days to see whether anyone contracted the gue, they set off again after no one had symptoms. Being on the road heading to Zarang,st stop in their journey, Farrukhzad felt relieved. Relieved he had it behind him. The fruits of hisbour woulde eventually, as more people started supporting and epting their Shahanshah. It was quite calm journey, just riding a horse, stopping for night, and then continuing. He started to get used to this cycle, as the journey to Zarang was much longer than from Rasht to Amol. Just going to Zarang was around half of the whole journey taken. After around slightly less than two weeks, they were at Zarang. And they were met with a surprising sight. An army of few thousands were at the gates, camping outside the city walls.


    "A siege? No, that isn''t right." thought Farrukhzad. They approached the camping army, going through the tent city. Soldiers camping there wore Persian uniforms. They watched Farrukhzad and hispany, eyeing them suspiciously. Farrukhzad dismounted and walked to the nearest soldiers.


    "Where can I find yourmander?" asked Farrukhzad with authority. The two soldiers looked at each other and then one of them pointed to a certain tent.


    "He should be there." said the man pointing. Farrukhzad thanked them and continued on to the tent with the two soldiers watching him and whispering something to each other. When Farrukhzad arrived to the tent, he was met with a pair of soldiers and their spears that prohibited them from entering.


    "State your business." said one of the soldiers.


    "I believe I do not need to state my business. Let me introduce myself. Farrukhzad, wuzurg framadar of the Empire of Iranians."


    The soldiers went pale after hearing that and immediately withdrew their spears. Farrukhzad, without a word, entered the tent. There, a man was sitting, writing something. Farrukhzad immediately recognized him.


    "Piruz Khosrow. What a coincidence."


    After hearing his name, Piruz looked up into Farrukhzad''s face and smiled on him.


    "Farrukhzad. You old bastard. It sure is coincidence. What are you doing here?"


    "I could ask you the same. I''m on my way to Zarang. It was met with a gue, you see. And on orders of our Shahanshah, may he be immortal, I fund a relief effort."


    "So you went from a city to city, bringing money and supplies?"


    "Exactly. But enough about me. What is this about? What is the army doing here?"


    "We were at Merv, fought the G?kt¨¹rks and now, we''re returning. But we ran into a problem. Marzban of Merv were only able to grant us supplies to Zarang. And he didn''t lie. Our supplies are running low and Zarang can''t provide us any. Because of the gue."


    Farrukhzad frowned and started thinking if there was anything he could do to help.


    "I have to meet with the city representatives. I''ll try to negotiate with them. If their supplies would suffice, I''ll give you the ones we have for them."


    "Thank you, my friend. I am very desperate."


    Farrukhzad left the tent and went on to the meeting. Local authorities were very serious about the quarantine, as the whole negotiations were held by shouting at each other from and under the walls. It was bizarre. After a few minutes and a sore throat, a soldier brought a cup of wine to Farrukhzad. He found out that their supply level is good and that they have enough for them ¨C but not enough so they can give some to a few thousand soldiers. Knowing that, Farrukhzad gave them only the funds and medical supplies, ensuring the spread of his Shahanshah''s fame. He was d they took the quarantine seriously, but this was too much even for him. His throat hurt from the relentless long-distance shouting. It wasn''t a walk in a rose garden. But he had it behind him, with only return to Istakhr remaining. He then went back to Piruz''s tent, smiling at him upon entering.


    "How did it go?" asked Piruz, who, upon seeing Farrukhzad burst out of his seat.


    "It went well. The supplies are yours."


    "Thank Ahura Mazda. I seriously thought I''m screwed." said Piruz, looking relieved. Farrukhzad just smiled.


    "Are you also heading to Istakhr now, my friend? Perhaps you could go with us." said Piruz.


    "I will, dly. At least we''ll have apany. Myds must be tired from the road."


    "Great. Then, let us rest for today and we can embark tomorrow."


    After that, they spend the whole day talking about all sorts of topics. Politics, women, army, warfare and administrative matters. Then after drinking a few cups of wine, Piruz asked Farrukhzad a bit sensitive question.


    "My friend I have to ask you. You are wuzurg framadar, right? Chosen by our Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    Farrukhzad nodded.


    "I''ll speak bluntly now, but I don''t mean any disrespect. Do you really trust that child-emperor? Do you believe him?"


    Farrukhzad wasn''t that surprised. He knew this question would eventuallye, as he himself was a factionalist in the past and it wasn''t verymon for the likes of him to suddenly side with the royal power.


    "I do. There is something in that child that just makes me believe him. Trust him. Every time I speak with him, I have this feeling that he will be great one day. I just can''t help it. Maybe it''s that I am na?ve, maybe it''s because I am idealistic. Or maybe, I just don''t have other choice but to believe. You see in what state we currently are. You should see it. It wouldn''t be impossible for a fool like myself to be so desperate to believe a child on a throne. But I digress."


    Piruz looked at Farrukhzad with a serious yet empathic look. As if he stole his words.


    "What about you, Piruz? I don''t think you ever talked to him though, so maybe you''ll have a different point of view."


    "I don''t know. I was preparing for the worst when I heard a child will rule us. I didn''t thought he''llst so long. Almost half a year now. But he did and so did my opinion of him rise. When Rostam came to me with amand from the Shahanshah himself, I was surprised. I still have my doubts, but it looks like he''s trying at least. And that is the bare minimum a good ruler must do, in my opinion."


    Farrukhzad smiled at him. Maybe they were of different factions, of different views of different things, but one thing they could agree on. That child was exceptional.

 Chapter 20: Home sweet home

    <h4>Chapter 20: Home sweet home</h4>


    Piruz''s and Farrukhzad journey continued on. Two weeks on road in front of them, they still talked and discussed different matters and topics.


    "So, tell me, Farrukhzad. How is it? To be Empire''s wuzurg framadar? How are the responsibilities?"


    "Piruz, I am wuzurg framadar for only half a year. I don''t think I experienced it sufficiently. But if I had to answer, I''d say I feel with more authority than before. But you should know how it is better than me. You were wuzurg framadar yourself."


    "I was. I sure was. But I was serving under a man both irresponsible and ipetent man who got his throne through a coup but wasn''t able to hold it. I''d dare to say that our current Shahanshah, may he be immortal, is much morepetent than him, despite the age gap."


    "Maybe you''re right. Anyway, I was thinking of helping our Shahanshah in terms of reforms. This country needs those, if it want''s to survive."


    "Reforms, huh? What about those of Khosrow I.? Those should still be in use, although modified by clergy and nobility to suit them."


    "Khosrow I. used these reforms to weaken the nobles and clergy, which also greatly upset them. And Yazdegerd III. isn''t Khosrow I. He doesn''t wield as much power as Khosrow I. held. Don''t you think that such drastic reforms could lead to his demise?"


    "Maybe. But he has to risk if he want''s to seed."


    "Hmmm. Maybe you''re right, my friend. Maybe you''re right."


    They rode in silence when the conversation died out, enjoying the rocky drnds around them. This was central Iran, dry and deste yet somehow beautiful. It wasnd of high mountains, dry deserts and wonders alike. In the mountains, you could find temples built into a mountainside, in the deserts you could find huge cities. Truly a wonder of and. People who lived there were diverse ¨C from Persians to Damites, from Parthians to Lurs. But all of them called themselves Iranians, with one Empire, one Shahanshah and one religion uniting them. Farrukhzad was overwhelmed by the nature, looking around and enjoying the view. Piruz wasn''t that kind of person, but he too wouldn''t disregard such a view.


    When nearing Istakhr, they stopped at Ardakan, a town which was known for its religious importance. Ardakan literally means "a holy ce." They visited the Chak Chak temple, one of the most sacred temples of Zoroastrianism. Well, not directly as the temple didn''t have the space for a few thousand soldiers. So, they stayed under the temple, praying in its direction. They prayed to Ahura Mazda. Everyone had their own prayer, their own wish. But all of them prayed to the same god, Ahura Mazda. It was a beautiful moment of people of different backgrounds, ethnicities and status, all kneeling together and praying to one god they had inmon. When facing god, nothing but good deeds mattered.


    After that, they continued their journey, with a burden in form of stress lifted and good feeling in their hearts added. A week passed and they arrived at Istakhr. A magnificent city, most important one in the history of Sassanid family. It was here where the first Sassanid ruler, Ardashir I. was crowned as Shahanshah of Iran and Aniran after defeating the Parthians. Sassanid Empire started here and some would say that it may end here. They entered the city and parted their ways, with Piruz heading into the barracks to discuss the remaining soldiers and ensure them housing. Farrukhzad headed right to Yazdegerd.


    Pce guard let him in easily and he walked the corridors he missed so much. He met only a few servants along the way, quickly arriving in front of Yazdegerd''s room. He knocked.


    "Come in."


    He opened the door and entered the room, closing the door behind him. He then knelt, looking onto the ground. In the room, a figure sat on the armchair. It was undoubtedly his Shahanshah.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, I have returned and I bring the promised reports."


    "Farrukhzad, my wuzurg framadar. It''s great to see you again. Please, stand up and fill me in."


    "Right away, my liege. I have been to all three cities you sent me to. I have ensured they follow the quarantine and ¨C"


    "Dear Farrukhzad, I do not care about that. Tell me about your objective. Have you fulfilled it properly?"


    "Yes, my liege. I have made it so your fame is spread far and wide in these regions. But this could take effect in a few weeks, maybe months."


    "It would be strange should it work instantly. Well then, I am very grateful to you, my wuzurg framadar. You should rest, you deserve it."


    "Thank you, my liege. I also would like to inform you that Piruz Khosrow wille to see you shortly after me. We travelled together from Zarang."


    Yazdegerd frowned.


    "So I''ll have to deal with those poor souls next. Alright. You can go."


    "Yes, my liege."


    Farrukhzad then left Yazdegerd to his own and made his way to his room, tired and battered. He wanted to jump into bed and lie down for a bit. And when he arrived in his room, he did just that. Lying in his bed, all sorts of thoughts drifted in his mind, until they eventually drifted him to sleep.


    ---


    Arabs were marching from Arabia into persian Mesopotamia. Under themand of general Khalid ibn al-Walid. They were nning to attack in spring, taking over the border town of Hira and using it as a base for further exploits. Khalid discussed the n of attack many times, with both Umar and Abu Bakr, who was in Ma, ruling from there, taking care of official business. Khalid was preparing the army for the invasion, which was meant to take ce in a around a month, in March. They wanted to use Iranian new year, which Persians celebrated to attack them startled and in surprise. The n was good and Khalid was experiencedmander who knew what he was doing. His army was still preparing, but the preparations were inte stages. He only needed to take care of the logistics and supplying the army. And supplying such an army through desert without proper nning and organization could result into a catastrophe. He had to be careful. And so he was.

 Chapter 21: Bringing the good news

    <h4>Chapter 21: Bringing the good news</h4>


    Jabh finally arrived in Ikonion, central Anatolia. Heraclius, Roman Emperor awaited him there, as promised. He went to meet Jabh halfway, so he didn''t have to go all the way to Constantinople. In Ikonion, Basileus'' servants already waited on Jabh at main square to bring Jabh to him. It was a delicate matter they would discuss, after all. They led him through a suspicious alley in which one would think all sorts of criminals gather. But it was actually a route to Emperor''s city chambers, strictly guarded and maintained. They entered some building through a door in the alley and went up the stairs. Then, they emerged from a door in the chambers, which were disguised as a wardrobe. And there sat the Emperor, in all his might and glory. But there was also one other person. A girl, long brown hair, emerald eyes, delicate facial features. Like a picture. But she wasn''t bright and cheerful. At that moment, she was grim and depressed. Jabh knew why probably. Heraclius stood up and went to greet him.


    "Jabh, my friend, I am d to see you. Come sit with me. Would you care for a cup of wine?"


    "dly, my Basileus. But, please, was it necessary to bring her here?" said Jabh and gestured on the girl. Heraclius also turned around and looked at her. His expression stiffened.


    "Yes. It was necessary for her to know who she will marry and whose wife will she be. So I brought her to hear the conclusions herself. Now, enlighten us, dear friend."


    Jabh was a bit anxious about it but proceeded withoutins. He knew it must be hard for a girl to have her husband decided so early in her life, especially without her consent. When shees of age, she was supposed to marry a man from different culture, of different religion and from different country. I must''ve been hard on her. Actually, now that he thought about it, he was a bit surprised by how Yazdegerd wasn''t really opposed to the idea, even though he knew nothing of his future wife and Empress. It made a good impression on him. Even Jabh thought the young princess wouldn''t have it bad at Yazdegerd''s court. Her sister, for example, was promised to G?kt¨¹rk ruler to secure their assistance against Persians, when they still fought against them. She would''ve had it much harder at G?kt¨¹rk court, weren''t it for the news that her husband died, thus breaking the marriage.


    "Very well, my Basileus. Yazdegerd III., Shahanshah of Iran and Aniran responded to your offers positively. He seeks to cooperate and ally with our nation, furthering our mutual interests. He also agreed to your proposal of marrying off princess Roxane to him."


    When mentioning her name, girl, Roxane, stiffened herself and looked in the direction of Jabh. He felt her gaze but didn''t mind it. Dice had been cast and fate of this young girl was sealed. Such was a life of basically every girl of noble blood ¨C to be married off for political purposes.


    "That''s it? Any report or further information?"


    "Persian Emperor gave me a letter citing "for your hands only." Here it is."


    As he said that, he took out the rolled letter, still sealed as a proof no one opened it yet. He handed it to Basileus, who took it from him and promptly opened it. Then he read its contents. His face didn''t change a bit, but the aura around him did.


    "Is he really a nine-year-old?" asked Heraclius a bit reluctantly. Jabh was instantly interested in what was written in the letter.


    "I too don''t know, my Basileus. When negotiating, hepletely stole my every chance of gaining upper hand and eventually it was me who was yed by him."


    Jabhpletely understood what was Heraclius thinking. He also felt it ¨C that mature atmosphere that surrounded the young Shah. He waspletely overwhelmed by the authority he emitted when he first met him. It was Shah''s surroundings that made him to look dominating at that time ¨C window shining on his back, thus not revealing his face. Elevated throne, making him to look inessible, almost divine. And his own very crown, that made him look taller and more powerful. All these little detailsbined, they formed an imprable atmosphere of a domineering ruler around him. And Jabh understood it very well.


    "My dear Roxane, I think you will be in good hands with this young boy. I sure think you''ll be."


    Roxane was looking a bit perplexed by what her father said, but he didn''t borate. He simply took the letter, rolled it again and gave it to Jabh.


    "Dispose of this. And you may go. I need to digest it all."


    Jabh was led by Basileus'' servants yet again into a room that was assigned to him. Once he was inside and had privacy, he couldn''t hold on his curiosity. He opened the letter.


    "Heraclius, Emperor of Romans, I am happy you about your offers. I wish our countries will cooperate with a goal of pulling our Empires out of the after-war situation we were pulled into by our predecessors. I have but a one request to make. We, and surely even you, have got the reports of Arabs maneuvering around our borders. But fear not. ording to our intel, which validity I guarantee myself, Arabs are preparing an invasion into Persiannds first. They aren''t really secretive about it either. So, the request is ¨C don''t send your armies until I personally ask. I know it is a selfish request, but a necessary one.


    And I also thank you for offering your daughters hand to me, even if as a means of forging the alliance. I believe you have already been told about my answer, but I''ll say it here again. I graciously ept. I shall arrange a meeting with her when the timees ¨C in a few years. Until then, make sure she takes care of herself and make sure she arrives in her full beauty. If I will not be charmed by her when I meet her, I will consider it that your envoy lied to me. And if that would be the case, have his head cut off.


    Sincerely,


    Yazdegerd III., Shahanshah of Iran and Aniran."


    Jabh suddenly had to worry about his life much more than before.

 Chapter 22: The price for peace

    <h4>Chapter 22: The price for peace</h4>


    "Please, general. I want to get this over with quickly." said Yazdegerd after Piruz entered his chamber and started giving him the report about the battle. To be fair, Piruz also didn''t want it to take long, so he nodded a bit and started talking.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, what do you want to hear first?"


    "I don''t care. Just hurry."


    Piruz cleared his throat and began.


    "Ourplete losses, meaning dead, wounded and missing in action are 6302 soldiers, from which dead are 4214, wounded 2043, rest missing in action. From those 2043 wounded, 531 will be crippled for the rest of their lives."


    Yazdegerd watched Piruz as those painful news flew from his mouth. He was barely able to bear these horrifying consequences of his actions and decisions. But soldiers died, die and will continue to die. It''s part of their job, to die for their Shahanshah. He wanted to cover his ears, but didn''t do so. To face the consequences you created is how to be a good ruler. One cannot run from the consequence of his decisions. And so he listened, thinking about the numerical values only.


    "Enemy army of fifteen thousand waspletely annihted, with three thousand of them taken as hostages andter sold into very. Rest is considered to be either dead, deserted or missing in action. Enemy wounded soldiers were executed on spot, as the militarywmands."


    Although both reports were simrly grim, the difference of nationality of the soldiers was the key point that distinguished these reports from "the good one" and "the bad one." Yazdegerd considered both reports necessary. Nothing more.


    "Thank you, general. You may leave now."


    Piruz didn''t know what to expect when he went to meet Shahanshah. He expected all sorts of things. Irresponsible and ipetent child, somewhat talkative boy and even, for a while, he believed Farrukhzad and expected the Shahanshah to be thepetent and mature boy he imed to be. But he still expected him to have at least one advisor, but when he entered the chambers and found the Shahanshah alone, waiting for him, he was stunned. And another thing he was stunned with was his way of speaking. Calm. Composed. Without a slightest bit of emotion. A bit terrifying for a nine-year-old, he thought. But he had to admit Farrukhzad wasn''t lying. He really doesn''t look or feel like a child.


    ---


    "Brother, are you awake?" Rostam opened the door to Farrukhzad''s chamber quietly, knowing well his brother is tired from the journey. He listened and waited for Farrukhzad''s response. After a while, he looked into the room only to see his brother sluggishly getting out of his bed, still in formal clothes.


    "Rostam, wee. What do you need?" said Farrukhzad, his sleepiness making him to go straight to the point.


    "I wanted to talk with you. A bit happened when you were gone, so I thought I''d fill you in. But perhaps you are too tired?"


    After Farrukhzad heard what his brother wants, he brightened up a bit. It certainly did interest him about what happened, as he didn''t want to be left out. And this interest eventually overcame his tiredness, and he invited his brother in. They sat on a couch, leaning against it and rxing.


    "So, tell me? What happened? Anything interesting? What about our Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    "Where should I start...? Oh, yes. Envoys from the Romans came. Bringing a message from their Emperor."


    "Romans? What did they want? What was the message?"


    Farrukhzad, who is usually a bitidback and doesn''t care much was in his element when it came to information like this.


    "An offer of alliance. And his daughter''s hand."


    Farrukhzad at first imagined girl''s hand wrapped inside a bag and carried here, and was righteously horrified about the idea. But he knew what his brother meant.


    "And? What then?"


    "Well, to say the least, out Shahanshah will have a Shahanshahbanu."


    "So we can look out to a period of peace with Romans? And what about the princess? Do you have anything?"


    "Not too much. Youngest daughter of the Roman Emperor. Six years old, I think. But, I have to say that our Shahanshah didn''t look so keen on making such decision. Initially, I though that he''ll refuse."


    "What do you think made him change his mind?"


    "What I think? I think it was duty. Duty to his people and empire. I think that he sensed the opportunity, and sacrificed something of his to ensure the opportunity is snatched and used. He ensuredsting peace at the cost of important part of his life. His romantic life."


    Farrukhzad seemed to be lost in thought, thinking about what his brother said. He meant it, because he suddenly changed from rxing tone to a serious one as he was speaking. The question was ¨C did their Shahanshah fully understand what he did, and did he do it with this intention? Because, although this decision was crucial and mostly a good one, one could argue that he did this just because ofck of experience to fullyprehend the situation, understand it properly and then deal with it. Then it could be said it was pure coincidence. But if this all was intentional and that child-emperor knew what he was doing, that would only prove their theory of a much more developed mind.


    "Do you think he did it on purpose? I mean I know him for a long time and I knew he isn''t an ordinary child, but..."


    "I cannot say, brother. But I can say that he ensured us a peace we so desperately need. And he even ensured it at his own cost. And if that isn''t a deed of someone worthy of the title Shahanshah, then I do not know what is."


    It''s true. Although children of rulers are basically destined to have their spouse chosen by their parents, it was different for rulers, who, if spouseless, most often chose their spouse themselves by visiting the courts or having candidates visit ruler''s court. And even if, they at least had the chance to meet their spouse before the marriage was epted by either side. But this was different. Yazdegerd didn''t ept the marriage out of free will. It can be said he was forced to due to the circumstances, because angering the Roman Emperor could be grave mistake for Persia. And so, he threw away all other options he had, and they were plenty, to settle for a Roman princess he never met and ensuring the alliance with Rome. And this was also very profitable for Roman Emperor, as he basically sacrificed nothing yet gained a powerful ally and less foes to pay attention to. Yazdegerd, on the other hand, sacrificed something he hadn''t yet experienced, thus having no chance to experience it ever. Most likely. This was the price he paid for peace. The price of highest value. An emotional one.

 Chapter 23: Reforming the empire

    <h4>Chapter 23: Reforming the empire</h4>


    "My wuzurg framadar, could you exin these to me? I am not very knowledgeable about administrative documents and their expressions. I don''t understand these."


    Farrukhzad was standing in front of Yazdegerd''s table, on which countless papers were scattered. He was dumbfounded and thought that his liege has gone insane. When Yazdegerd asked him to exin them, he first had to himself understand what these were about. He picked up a pile of papers, put them together and read through them. They were the rewritten reforms by old Khosrow I., the man who reformed the Empire. His initial reforms were superb and helped with army recruitment and more efficient taxations. He was surprised his Shahanshah thought of the same thing as him and Piruz.


    "These are the reforms of Khosrow I., my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    "I already see that. What I want to know is if I can use them or not. If they are efficient."


    "These are far from the original reforms. This is just what nobles and clergy rewrote to suit them. These are already implemented. If you restored the original ones, it could benefit the country, but they still may be a bit outdated. So if you''d like to restore reforms of Khosrow I., I suggest we also modernize them a bit."


    Yazdegerd looked at Farrukhzad with a nk expression. Farrukhzad found this very ufortable. It was strange. After a while, Yazdegerd seemed to emerge from his train of thoughts.


    "First exin these reforms to me. What do they mean? Rather, what did Khosrow I. want to achieve through these reforms? And how did they work in practice?"


    "Main point of these reforms is centralization of government and concentrating power to the ruler, or you, my Shahanshah. He cut off the dependency of crown on big noble families and houses by creating a new social ss ¨C deghans, who were smallndowners, basically a lower nobility. These were much more trustworthy than noble families and the fact they owned majority ofnd, Khosrow could use them to cut the tax exemption for nobles. Once the military and taxes stopped relying on nobles, crown had much more power to utilize. The reforms you see in front of you have been stripped of the anti-noble policies and no longer work as intended. Simply rewriting the paper would also do nothing, as we would have to implement them in practice."


    "And you can do that? Rewrite them and implement them?"


    "Theoretically. But I would need advice of some economist and a lot of money. And I have to warn you, my Shahanshah, these reforms take time before their effect can be seen. And you would also cause unrest among the nobles and clergy."


    Yazdegerd''s eyes shined.


    "I will give you all the money you need. Just do it. Once you revise and rewrite them, be sure they start implementing them right away. And don''t worry about the nobles. Now that I am allied with Rome, they won''t dare to go against me and my will."


    Farrukhzad looked unconvinced but then bowed and left.


    ---


    "But how does he n to achieve something like that? Isn''t it crystal clear they''ll try to rebel?"


    "I don''t know. But I do believe him, you know. He surprised me more than once before."


    "Farrukhzad, I can''t understand you. I just can''t. But understanding you or our Shahanshah, may he be immortal, isn''t my work, right?"


    "Exactly, Bijan. Here they are."


    Bijan was an acquaintance of Farrukhzad, who employed him as the reformation advisor. Bijan, being renowned economist didn''t pass the opportunity to make a name for himself for the young Shah. But this time, he thought he may have bit off more than he could swallow. Farrukhzad put a pile of papers in front of him saying they have to go through them and rewrite anything that interferes with the crown''s power and then modernize them if needed.


    "Here you have it. Do you see it? This basically means that nobles will tax their local regions and provincial areas."


    What Bijan showed to Farrukhzad was an unobstructed line of text containing at least hundred words, that could be summarized into the few words Bijan said. Astonishing, Farrukhzad thought.


    "Yes, I see it. What should we do with it? Write it so the taxing right goes to the crown?"


    "That would be easiest, yes."


    "Alright, so let''s do it like that."


    Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. Bijan was a bit surprised but paid it no attention. Farrukhzad was very surprised as he had no idea who it might be. He went to the door and opened them. Behind them stood Yazdegerd.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, what brings you here?" said Farrukhzad and immediately knelt. Bijan followed him, confused.


    "Stand up. I wanted to talk to you, my wuzurg framadar."


    Then he turned to Bijan, expecting something from him. Bijan immediately understood.


    "Bijan, economist, at your service, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    Yazdegerd nodded and continued.


    "Make the reforms as drastic and effective as you can. So at least clergy will try to rebel. If you can manage that, I will be very grateful."


    Both Farrukhzad and Bijan looked, stunned, at Yazdegerd, trying to understand his intentions. But no matter how long they stared at him, they weren''t able to read anything from his calm face.


    "My Shahanshah, I don''t understand. Why would you want that?"


    "Farrukhzad, your work is not to understand my intentions. That is the work for political scientists or enemy spies perhaps, but not for wuzurg framadar. Just trust me."


    That was of course easier said than done. None of those two wanted to plunge the empire into civil war and then look how it crumbles, because Yazdegerd wasn''t able to defeat the revolt. And all that because of their reforms. Only leaders and rulers had to bear deaths of countless lives. Not politicians or scientist.


    "And, just reminding, that this is not an offer. This is an order. So you better get to work. Farewell."


    With just these few words Yazdegerd left the room, leaving the two men to their fates and to their decision.

 Chapter 24: The great conspiracy

    <h4>Chapter 24: The great conspiracy</h4>


    After making sure the men began their work, Yazdegerd left. It was not like he didn''t trust them ¨C well, at least he trusted Farrukhzad. But he also believed that Bijan, being Farrukhzad''s friend is alsopetent. When he entered his chambers, servant already stood there as if waiting for him. Yazdegerd noticed him and looked his way, waiting for what the servant has to say. The servant bowed and handed him a letter.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, this letter is from your subject, a man named Bashir."


    Yazdegerd brightened up a bit. He hadn''t hear from him for a long time. He epted the letter and before the servant could take his leave, Yazdegerd instructed him.


    "Bring me my spahbed here."


    "Yes, my Shahanshah."


    After the servant left in search of Rostam, Yazdegerd opened the letter and read its contents. Bashir''s type of writing wasn''t very suited for a report. The way he wrote his weekly "reports" reminded Yazdegerd of fairy tales. He always told where they went through, what city did they visit and what did they did. He also wrote what they preached about, focusing more on the positives of worship of fire. They preached about how Christian God abandoned them and the Romans, leaving behind only half of it. They preached how Buddhist deities never gave birth to an Empire as grand as Iranian. They also preached that Zoroastrianism was there before Christianity and Buddhism, and so it shall outlive them.


    Yazdegerd smiled every time he read these letters. They were soothing to read in its own way, disconnecting Yazdegerd from the troubles of reality. Just like fairy tales. But his connection to reality restored a sound of fingers knocking on the wooden door. It was probably Rostam. Yazdegerd put down the letter and with a simple "Enter" answered the knocking. Rostam went inside and, as always, knelt down.


    "What do you need, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal?"


    "Rostam Farrokhzad, my spahbed. I want report. How many capable soldiers are you able to muster? If you can, exclude the young and elderly."


    Rostam was a bit perplexed as to why would his liege want to know. They weren''t in war and as far as he knew, weren''t preparing for one. And he was the spahbed of the Empire of Iranians, so he should know. There was but one option. His liege was plotting something.


    "I''d have to check to make the numbers exact, but maybe around 30000."


    The numbers were always lower than the estimated number, so the real number would be around 26000. Yazdegerd didn''t know if that will suffice or not. It simply had to.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, may I ask why? Are you nning a campaign?"


    "My spahbed, Arabs are at our doors and we have yet to consolidate power and to prepare against them. And what is quicker and more effective solution than killing you oponents?"


    "My Shahanshah, what do you..?"


    "What do I n? I n to ignite a civil war. I want the disloyal clergy and nobility to rebel against me. Rostam, are you aware of the reforms of Khosrow I. and how he implemented them?"


    Rostam, being a literate and wise man knew who was his Shah talking about. Khosrow I., the King Philosopher, implemented hisnd and tax reforms in a very simple yet unexpected manner. He used the chaos of a peasant uprising to tax thend revenue from noble''snd and transfer it under the crown. And nobles werepletely helpless against this. Rostam understood his Shahanshah''s intentions. He wanted to imitate Khosrow I., but go a step further and instead of implementing crucial reforms during the ensuing chaos, he also wanted to eliminate opposition. Such a drastic measure could have drastic consequences. It was a bet. A high-risk high-reward one. But, as always, where would Yazdegerd be now if he wouldn''t be able to take risks? But this one would be the biggest risk of his life.


    "My Shahanshah, do you mean what I think? Ignite a civil war, implement reforms and crush the opposition?"


    "You understood it perfectly, my spahbed. But you forgot one crucial thing. When the clergy is crushed, I''ll install my own puppet to lead the country''s religion. Then I''ll have enough power to stand toe to toe with Arabs."


    It was a cunning n, not without ws and not without risks. He bet his whole life, everything he had on this drastic yet necessary measure.


    "My Shahanshah, isn''t this way too risky? I don''t think it''s a good idea."


    "My spahbed, you do not decide what idea is good and what bad. I rule this Empire. I rule over tens of different ethnicities, I rule over tens of different regions and over tens of million people. And I understood something. That this Empire is mine and I''ll do anything I want with it. So, my spahbed. I want you to start preparing the army ahead. I should also contact Bashir and tell him about this..."


    At the moment Rostam thought of something.


    "My Shahanshah, if Bashir is out there with the Zoroaster''s reincarnate preaching, being obviously loyal to you, the clergymen could have already set their eyes on them and targeted them."


    At that moment, Yazdegerd understood he made a crucial mistake. He rushed out of the room, shouting, with Rostam behind him.


    "Servants! Servants! Anyone! Bring me my hazarbed, Jalinus! Quickly, it is urgent!"


    After a while of running around, some servant brought Jalinus to him. He breathed heavily, so he probably ran all the way here.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, what do you need?" said Jalinus with deep breaths in between the words. Although he was tired, he felt the obligation to kneel down, so he did.


    "Stand up. Send a messenger with urgent message to Bashir. Make him hurry. And you, take a few men with yourself and ride to Ectabana, where Bashir should currently be. After you make sure he and the reincarnate are safe and unharmed, you shall take them here. Be discreet and quick. They may be at a risk of life."


    Jalinus quickly nodded and ran off, hopefully already sending out the messenger and preparing the men. Yazdegerd had nothing to do but wait now. Without Bashir and the reincarnate, his ns would be crushed.

 Chapter 25: On last minute

    <h4>Chapter 25: Onst minute</h4>


    Jalinus disappeared quickly with his men and Yazdegerd was left standing there together with Rostam.


    "My spahbed, I forgot one thing."


    "To not muster soldiers from Mesopotamia?"


    Yazdegerd looked at Rostam in surprise. But it wasn''t that surprising at all. After all, Rostam was an experiencedmander and general.


    "Yes, please do not do that."


    Of course, if they left Mesopotamia defenseless, Arabs would take the opportunity to carve themselves some richnd that Mesopotamia is. Yazdegerd was very well aware that the civil war he was about to ignite would be a great opportunity for Arabs to attack. But there was no other way in his mind. To centralize the power meant to remove the opposition, even if that meant plunging the country into civil war. And, after all, it was his empire. It was sure that Arabs will attack as soon as they''ll hear of the civil war. And he had to stop them. Not defeat them. Stop them. Stop them from conquering too muchnd. And as soon as he won the civil war, he would focus on Arabs and ultimately crush them. That was his n. It looked great in his mind, but nothing is without its problems, right? What can go wrong will go wrong, and in this n there was plenty of thing that could go wrong.


    Jalinus rode as fast as he could, his men surrounding him and riding alongside. The messenger departed few hours before them and should be able to make it to Ectabana by the night. But he and his men weren''t as quick, so they''ll be there tomorrow morning at best, and they would''ve to ride all night with only short stops. The only thing on his mind was the given order to ensure Bashir''s and reincarnate''s safety. And so they rode, rode with their full might and power.


    They arrived at Ectabana a while before noon. They immediately set for the tavern Bashir should be in. They asked around, being discreet and not mentioning they act on Shahanshah''s orders. They disguised themselves as a band of mercenaries searching for a ce to stay at. After a while, some good soul pointed them in the right direction. They rode, not quicky, galloping their horses in the general direction. When they arrived in front of the tavern, Jalinus and three other men entered. Rest stayed outside, keeping their horses and belongings safe. Jalinus headed towards the bar, where a man, presumably owner, stood.


    "Greetings, good people. How can I help you? We have food plenty and rooms to spare! Just ask!"


    The owner was obviously very social man, greeting them just as they entered. But Jalinus had no time for this, using, maybe misusing his authority.


    "In what room does man named Bashir stay? Quickly now!"


    Owner was obviously surprised and intimidated.


    "Good sir, I can''t tell you that."


    "Yes, you can. And you will. Now hurry. An old man with a child. Where do they stay? What room?"


    Owner started losing his nerves.


    "Sir, please, stop. Or I''ll have the guards called."


    Jalinus had enough.


    "I am the hazarbed in the service of our Shahanshah. If you think the guards will stop me, feel free to call them. If not, answer."


    Owner, being all the more surprised and now scared started shaking. He understood that he''s ying with fire and decided to answer.


    "He''s staying in the room upstairs, second on the right side. But he should being here every while for lunch."


    Jalinus ignored the startled and scared owner and immediately ran upstairs with his men. If Bashir hadn''te to lunch yet, he could be in danger. Jalinus hoped that they won''t bete and that they''ll arrive sooner than any threat. But he also counted with the option of finding both dead or under attack. If that would be the case, he didn''t know what he would do. Not only would he fail his Shahanshah, but he would also let two innocent people die, and with them, the Shahanshah''s n. He hoped he wouldn''t have to cope with such a failure.


    They rushed in front of the door, only to find them locked. But that wasn''t a problem. They knocked on the door, calling for him.


    "Sir Bashir, it is me, Jalinus, Shahanshah''s hazarbed. I havee to lead you out of here."


    No answer. He tried again.


    "Hello, Sir Bashir?"


    Still, no answer. Just as he was going to give the order to ram the door, he heard a familiar voice.


    "Sir Jalinus? What are you doing here?"


    Jalinus was dumbfounded. In front of him, in front of the door, stood Bashir and the small reincarnate. He massaged his eyes to make sure he isn''t hallucinating, but they seemed to be real. He had so many questions, but threw them away. He had more important thing to worry about. In the meanwhile, Bashir started unlocking the door. He opened them and stood on the side, as if inviting Jalinus and hispany inside. At that moment, an arrow flew through the opened door, impaling the soldiers standing in from of them. Jalinus quickly closed the door and picked the reincarnate up.


    "We have to run, sir Bashir. Horses are outside, but we have to go quickly."


    Bashir seemed to grasp the situation at hand quickly, nodding and following Jalinus. They ran downstairs and quickly left the inn. Shield by the soldiers, Bashir sat on the horse with one soldier while reincarnate was with Jalinus. It was sad to say, but reincarnate was of bigger importance than Bashir was. And Bashir seemed to understand it perfectly. They rode as fast as they could, heading toward the city gates. Although the threat was most likely gone already, Jalinus didn''t want to take the chances. If he could prevent Bashir''s and reincarnate''s death, he would do everything in his power to at least try. When they rushed through the city gates, soldiers were looking after them and muttering something to themselves. Jalinus was d they made it out of the city. Now, that they had Bashir and reincarnate sound and safe, the only thing that was left for them to do was to return back. Back to their Shahanshah.

 Chapter 26: Crucial differences

    <h4>Chapter 26: Crucial differences</h4>


    When Yazdegerd confirmed himself that Bashir and the reincarnate are safe, it was as if stone fell from his heart. Due to his recklessness and short seeing, his whole future was put into a great risk. The stress he umted over the course of these two days, when he was waiting for Jalinus, was so great that he wouldn''t havested much longer. But after the revtion, most of this stress dissipated.


    "Bashir! I am d you are safe. You must be tired, right?"


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, that we are. At least I am. I am an old man, after all."


    Yazdegerd smiled cunningly at this remark and let them take their leave into the guestrooms they were originally staying in.


    "My hazarbed,e with me. We must speak at once."


    Yazdegerd called out to Jalinus, who immediately followed, not uttering a single word. Yazdegerd led him into his chambers, where they could be in private. They both sat down and Yazdegerd got right to business. His eyes as if piercing through Jalinus.


    "Was it true? Were they really at a risk of life?"


    Jalinus'' face went sour, as if being asked about something he truly regretted. Then, he started to talk.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, Bashir and the reincarnate truly were in the danger of death. An arrow most likely aimed at them shot my soldier. Killed him on the spot. They were targeted, but we weren''t pursued. That''s all I know."


    It was brief yet somehow painful. Jalinus must have taken the loss of his soldier very heavily. Maybe he med himself. Yazdegerd could understand him. Somehow. He also once felt like that. Responsible for the death of his soldiers. But the feeling inside him soon disappeared. He wondered why. Why did he feel so much responsibility? Why should he? They were his soldiers, after all. "For the Shahanshah and the Empire" and all that grandiose shit. That were his thoughts and his thought processes. Was the power he created for himself starting to get to him? Was he bing more and more arrogant? Maybe. But he had every right for it. After all, he created this life for himself.


    "My hazarbed, did Rostam tell you?"


    Although this question was very vague, if Jalinus knew, he would understand it. But he didn''t. Yet.


    "My Shahanshah, I am afraid he did not."


    "I see. Well then, let me enlighten you. Have you ever heard of the reforms of Khosrow I.?"


    "I have, my Shahanshah."


    "That makes things easier. Passing a reform requires you to have bigger support than you have opposition, as you surely know. But what if you don''t have an opposition?"


    "Then the reform would be passed easily. But how do you want to achieve that, my Shahanshah?"


    "By removing the opposition. But how to do that, my hazarbed?"


    Jalinus didn''t seem to quite follow, gazing perplexed at his Shahanshah. He was, in vain, searching for an answer, inside his mind. He searched and searched, but his mind wasn''t able to find the answer. That was because the answer wasn''t in his scope of searching. He never even considered the answer Yazdegerd had for him.


    "Let''s say they rebel against me. Then I have every right to... punish them, right?"


    "My Shahanshah, do you...?"


    "Yes. I mean that certain form of punishment. The deadly one."


    "My Shahanshah, forgive me, but that''s unreasonable? If a civil war was to be ignited, thousands of innocents would die. Wouldn''t that be cruel?"


    "My hazarbed, I am not the one who judges whether something is cruel or not. I am the one who judges what is necessary and what is not. And this is something necessary. Besides, I''d rather be a cruel victor than a kind loser."


    Jalinus wanted to argue but had nothing to do so with. Although Yazdegerd''s arguments were sound and reasonable, this was one of the things Jalinus just couldn''t bear. And so, he did not want to take any part in it. And Yazdegerd knew this.


    "My hazarbed, you will be released of your duty until the civil war is over and delegated under themand of general Bahman Jaduya. There you will defend the border against the Arabs, should they attack. However, I will need your services once again after I win the war."


    Yazdegerd was very certain of his victory. He also found this way to be the most usible one. If he had forced Jalinus to participate in something he deemed to be unjust and cruel, he would only put an emotional and psychological strain on him. And Yazdegerd would need himter. This way, he could ensure his loyalty while still gaining what he wants. Even Jalinus looked like he was happy with this decision.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, I humbly thank you for this. I shall not forget it."


    Yazdegerd smiled and gestured Jalinus to go outside. Jalinus nodded, bowed and went away, again without uttering anything. Yazdegerd and him were fundamentally different. While Jalinus valued ideas of justice and righteousness, being an idealist that he is, Yazdegerd had a different look on the world. The look of someone who was just a while ago at a risk of losing everything without being able to do anything. Things were much better now, but Yazdegerd still had much to lose and much to risk. He was a realist, maybe even cynical one. What was justice and righteousness to him, if it didn''t help him safe his throne. Why would he care about themon folk, if they weren''t the key to victory? These thoughts, swirling through his head more often than ever changed his way of seeing thingspletely. While Jalinus saw the world as a hazarbed, "he whomands thousands," leader of darigan and The Immortals, Yazdegerd saw the world as a ruler, whose empire is beset by enemies both inside and outside. As someone, who is but a step from doom. As a Shahanshah.

 Chapter 27: What could go wrong

    <h4>Chapter 27: What could go wrong</h4>


    23rd of March, 633, Istakhr


    "My Shahanshah! Some disloyal subjects have rebelled against you and your will! Reports say they''re trying to raise an army and march on Istakhr!"


    This report came into Yazdegerd''s ears quite unexpectedly. To exin, it came much sooner than he anticipated. Much sooner. That is, he had barely implemented the reforms, so this rebellion was a surprise. Whether it would be wee one or unwee one was yet to be seen, depending on the state of the army Rostam was supposed to gather and on the state of the gathering itself. After he blinked a few times, he fully absorbed the report and started asking.


    "Do you have full list of the rebel nobles? Who leads them? Where are they based?"


    These were themon question any ruler would''ve asked. And Yazdegerd was no different in this case. The only thing ruler needs to know is who and where is against him. His servants would do the rest. In this situation, "servants" are meant soldiers and by "the rest" is meant go and die on the field of battle.


    "Some nobles in the Sistan and Baluchistan regions, my Shahanshah."


    Yazdegerd was surprised. If these were his only opponents, he had basically nothing to worry about.


    "And, also, a marzban of Eastern Khorasan with his capital at Herat. He''s the one leading the rebellion."


    Yazdegerd''s face turned sour. Herat was an important city in the Khorasan region. Main trade and poption centre in the area. Not as great as Ctesiphon, butparable to Istakhr. It was a city of great importance and even greater sphere of influence ¨C it isn''t needed to be said that those who control it control a great deal of power. So Yazdegerd had a pretty strong opposition. He had to consult this with Rostam.


    "Thank you. You may leave. But bring me my spahbed first."


    The servant bowed and left. Yazdegerd sat down and started scratching his head. If Rostam was able to form the army by now, he could crush them with little to no opposition, as, ording to the reports, their army was in the stage of gathering. And Yazdegerd wanted to ensure they''ll never gather. But if the reports were wrong, or if Rostam didn''t gather sufficient troops yet, all of that would have to be thrown into fire. It was much tougher situation than Yazdegerd thought it would be. But as they say, "You reap what you sow."


    "My Shahanshah, I came on your request."


    Rostam showed in front of Yazdegerd out of nowhere, which surprised him. But he quickly regained hisposition and started the discussion.


    "How does it look with the army? Is it ready yet?"


    "My Shahanshah, of course it is. And it waits on yourmand."


    Of course it does. Rostam didn''t let Yazdegerd down as always. And since the army is ready, the only thing that could go wrong was the validity of the reports. And Yazdegerd had to count with the possibility of them being wrong.


    "My spahbed, reports of a noble rebellion have just reached me. I want you to lead the army against them."


    He started walking around the room, looking him in the eyes whenever he had the chance.


    "Reports say their army is yet to gather. It will be on you whether you''ll trust these reports or not. I personally don''t, but I am not the one experienced in warfare here. It is a great responsibility, but as my spahbed I believe you''ll not disappoint me."


    Rostam looked strangely at Yazdegerd, exactly between his eyes. They maintained this eye contact for a while, after Rostam kneeled.


    "My Shahanshah, I shall lead your armies to a victory against those who dare defy your will."


    Yazdegerd smiled mischievously, as if he watched some event beneficial for him unfold.


    "I will give you The Immortals. You will need them. Send me weekly reports, and after you win and defeat the enemy, return not here, but to Ctesiphon. I believe I will be there when the timees."


    "My Shahanshah, you n to return there? Did the people finally ept you?"


    "I don''t know. And if they didn''t yet, they''ll quickly have to."


    After hearing that, Rostam bowed and left the room, as he always did.


    ---


    Southern Mesopotamia, March 633


    "General Khalid! I bring news! The rebellion was sessful! Sheik of Herat has rebelled against the child-emperor."


    Some messenger ran to Khalid ibn al-Walid, the general leading the Arab campaign against the Persians. The news he just heard were key to his n ¨C destabilizing the country from within and then attacking the weakened child-emperor for a quick and sessful war. In the name of God, of course. If the reports were true, and he believed they were, they could begin their campaign. After marching through the Lakhimid kingdom, once a Persian client state, they arrived into the Mesopotamia,nd rich in everything a man could imagine. They say that if you can''t find something there, it simply doesn''t exist. When Khalid received the good news, he proceeded with his goal of taking Hira, an important city on the shore of Euphrates. Once he would capture Hira, he would continue to Peroz-Shapur and eventually, through al-Quadisiyyah into Ctesiphon. It was a good n, and with Khalid being a military genius, there wasn''t much that could stop him.


    Khalid still had the messenger in front of him, thinking of using him.


    "Bring me a scribe."


    The messenger left as quickly as he arrived back, this time with a scribe with him.


    "Here. Sit here and write."


    Scribe sat down at the provisional table Khalid had for him prepared.


    "Let these letter be sent to every Persian general andmander in the Mesopotamia. Let them see the mercy of Ah. Now, write this:


    In the Name of God, the Most Compassionate and Merciful. Khalid ibn Walid sends this message to the satraps of Persia. Peace will be upon him who follows the guidance. All praise and thanks be to God who disperses your power and thwarted your deceitful plots. On the one hand, he who performs our prayers facing the direction of our Qih to face the sacred Mosque in Mekkah and eats our ughtered animals is a Muslim. He has the same rights and duties that we have. On the other hand, if you do not want to embrace Im, then as soon as you receive this message, send over the jizya and I give you my word that I will respect and honor this covenant. But if you do not agree to either choice, then, by God, I will send to you people who crave death as much as you crave life."

 Chapter 28: The hero at the Battle of Chains

    <h4>Chapter 28: The hero at the Battle of Chains</h4>


    Late March 633, Southern Mesopotamia


    Bahman Jaduya was standing in front of a man, reading a letter addressed to the former.


    "Submit to Im and be safe. Or agree to the payment of the Jizya, and you and your people will be under our protection, else you will have only yourself to me for the consequences, for I bring the men who desire death as ardently as you desire life, huh? What kind of nonsense is this?"


    " I thought so too, general Jaduya. But I first thought I''ll consult it with you. I received this letter this morning, apparently from Arab general Khalid ibn al-Walid. How do you think I should respond?"


    "Hormozd, you are not supposed to respond to these kinds of letters. What he demands from you, from all of us, is unreasonable. I advise you to not respond."


    "If you say so, general."


    The man was Hormozd, a governor of Dast Meisan, or southern Mesopotamia, loyal to the Persian Shahanshah. He was one of the first reporting the eminent Arab invasion, and now the first to report its beginning. The proof was the letter he got, basically a deration of war stating that if he wants to live, he should either convert to Im or pay a special tax to be spared. If he refused both options, there was the third. Bloodshed.


    "General, I shall begin assembling an army immediately to face the enemy."


    "Great. I shall then make a report and send it to our Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    Hormozd nodded and the two men parted their ways, one going on about the official and formal inquiries, the other went off to war.


    Hormozd managed to form an army by April, consisting of mainly heavy infantry and cavalry. He wasn''t able to get some elephants into his army, which he considered to be an inconvenience. Persians have used elephants on many asions in many different battles, with these strong animals always helping their army very heavily. He was also aware of the supply routes and low mobility of his army. This was the Persian strategy ¨C the decisive battle doctrine. Before his departure, he met with 2 other men. Qubad and Anoshagan. These two men were the othermanders in his army. They discussed the n of their journey.


    "The letter from that Arab Khalid was sent to me from Yamama through Kazima. I''d guess they''ll march through there ¨C along the coast. Let us march towards Kazima, I think they''re waiting for us there."


    Other generals agreed rather quickly as there was not much to discuss. If the enemy marched through Hufeir rather than Kazima, they could always just change directions. They just had to defend the port of Ubalia, which was an important port for the Sassanian Empire ¨C one of the main ones in the Persian Gulf.


    Hormozd wanted to visit his wife, who was pregnant during that time before marching into battle, but duty called and they didn''t have much time. He had to go.


    He set off into the desert along the Persian gulf, moving his army slowly to not tire them off. The heavy armoured soldiers would tire themselves out very quickly if they didn''t have regr pauses during the march. At least the cool wind from the Persian Gulf was keeping their spirit and temperature up. Hormozd''s army numbered 20000 men, mainly Christian Arab auxiliaries and heavy cavalry. Thisposition was verymon for the Sassanid army and Hormozd didn''t see anything wrong with it.


    In 14th April 633, Hormozd and his army arrived in Kazima, only to find no traces of Muslim army, only to hear scouts report that Arabs are advancing of Hufeir. Of they went through and continued, fall of Ubalia would be unpreventable. And he couldn''t allow that. Hormozd immediately ordered a quick regrouping and march towards Hufeir. Hepletely forgot the heavy armour his soldiers wore and force marched them to Hufeir. But the Arabs weren''t in Hufeir either.


    Khalid wasughing as he heard the scouts reporting the Persian army''s forced march in Hufeir, only to find they weren''t there. Khalid was very well aware of the heavy armour and low mobility Persian army had, and chose to wear them out. He and his army went through the desert back to Kazima, where he waited for Persians, leaving the desert behind them so they could retreat easily.


    When Hormozd and his army arrived at Kazima, they were tired. But they had to fight. They tied themselves together with chains ¨C to prevent Arab cavalry to charge them and cause breakthroughs and to show the enemy their unity and their resolve to either win, or die.


    "Persian soldiers! Our resolve and unity is unshakable as Zagros mountains, as holy as Yazd Fire-temple and as mighty as the Achaemenid Empire of old! Today, we shall prevail!"


    "God''s warriors! These fire-worshipping wretches dared to stand against our God, our Saviour! In his name, we shall cleanse thesends of the Persians, trembling around their fires and rece their fire with our all-mighty God! Ahu Akbar!"


    The battle has begun.


    The first lines of exhausted soldiers bound by chains were quickly charged by Arab light cavalry. The soldiers fought as they could, but the exhaustion was a strong disadvantage. When the infantry also shed with Persians, the line began to fall. Persian cavalry was, although effective, quickly defeated due to its small number. Hormozd observed the battle from afar, looking with a sour expression. He didn''t have a high chance and he knew it. In the corner of his eye, he saw a differently dressed figure, riding into the battle. Arab general, no doubt. Hormozd thought and ached for a while, before resolving himself. He charged into the battle.


    After a few shed faces and cut arms, he finally stood face to face with the man. Khalid ibn al-Walid was his name. General against a general, a duel to write the oue of this battle. Khalid grinned and attacked Hormozd, swinging from below. His sabre shed with Hormozd''s and sound of nking steel could be heard all around. Hormozd swung from the side, trying to feint it and changing directions. Khalid''s quick reactions saved him as he dodged. Notpletely though, having his side cut into. His face groaned in pain. Then he stabbed towards Hormozd, who dodged and tried to counterattack. Then he felt the painful, hot feeling in his stomach and saw Khalid''s arm just below his chest. He knew what happened. His life flew through him and out of him, quickly disappearing. Khalid grinned again.


    "Looks like Ah has not epted you, infidel."


    Hormozd, with thest bits of his strength, grinned, looked up at Khalid in the eyes and responded.


    "It was me who didn''t ept him, you scum."


    Then, thest bit of life quickly disappeared from him, leaving a corpse of a former great man just another casualty on the battlefield. Khalid was so angered by his response he ordered Hormozd''s body crucified. After Hormozd''s death, the Persian army was ordered to retreat by the remainingmanders, but because lot of soldiers were bound by the chain, they weren''t able to escape the onught at the hands of the Arabs. The Persians were defeated and Arabs marched on Hira.

 Chapter 29: The worries he thought he didn’t have

    <h4>Chapter 29: The worries he thought he didn''t have</h4>


    The once proudly flying banners and colours of Sassanids were now returning, battered, scathed and scarred. Once proud and mighty Derafsh Kaviani, flying and fluttering high in the wind, disying its power and mightiness, now fell low, with soldiers barely keeping it up as barely half of them returned home. Battered, bruised, and tired. The news of Hormozd''s death spread quickly, and they eventually reached Bahman Jaduya''s ears. He was saddened. Both for the loss of friend, but also for the loss of battle. It either proved Hormozd''s ipetence, being defeated by an inferior enemy, or it only proved Arabianpetence. This Khalid ibn al-Walid seemed to be a great tactician and strategist in Bahman''s eyes, and also a big threat to him and this Empire he held so dear. He may not have respected Yazdegerd III. as his Shahanshah, but he still was loyal to the Empire of Iranians he served his whole life. He wouldn''t invalidate his whole life just because of one child.


    The whole city of Susa, in which Bahman based himself, was in mourning. Many fathers, brothers and sons went off to war and didn''t return. Towers of silence were filling up with bodies of wounded soldiers that didn''t make it, but also with maidens who couldn''t bear the death of their beloved. The city and its people fell into despair, turning to prayers and Ahura Mazda for repentance. In the meantime, Bahman was already preparing a n to stop Arabs. His orders from the Shahanshah were that he had to stop the Arabs, not defeat them. And he nned to do just that. If he could count on the knowledge about the Arabs he had, in the current state of affairs, he wouldn''t be able to defeat Arabs in full-on encounter. And he didn''t have to. To stop them from advancing was his goal - and so he worked towards that goal. Studying the topography and geography of the region, where they''ll be at the advantage and where they won''t. And he finally found a location where he could face the Arabs, even if they had that great general of their. Wja.


    Yazdegerd received the reports. Hormozd lied dead on the battlefield with half of his army, while Arabs continued their march on Hira. He had to hurry with the return to Ctesiphon to rule effectively. He made some basic preparations, but still had to secure so many things. Thankfully, he had people for that. While Rostam was gone to put out the rebellion, his position of a military advisor filled Quban, a renowned Persian general. Yazdegerd wanted to send him to Mesopotamia to defend Uba. He managed to gather a big army for that purpose, an army that shouldn''t be defeated. At least not easily.


    "Quban, my general. I''ll send you to Uba with an army. Hold the city at all costs and, if possible, defeat the Arabs. I will give you twomanders, who proved their worth. Quban and Anoshagan. I believe you will do well with all that I give you."


    "Yes, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    The next day, Yazdegerd watched him leave the city. Never would he thought it''ll be thest time he saw him.


    The reports came a few weekster, in thete April. Clear as day and dark as night. Qarin, Quban and Anoshagan ¨C all three dead. Died before the battle even started. Apparently invited opposing generals to a duel and were in. All three of them. But ording to the reports, Arab general Khalid ibn al-Walid didn''t fought any of them. Persian soldiers, although without their generals, held on for a while, but due to severe disorganization eventually sumbed. Twenty thousandid dead, and for what? Uba was lost, army lost three of their best generals and twenty thousand familiescked their fathers, brothers or sons. Yazdegerd was at a loss of words. He thought he had long contained and locked his emotions regarding the lives of his subjects behind a fixed lock, but apparently he was mistaken. It pained him. And that fact frustrated him.


    He quickly made some decisions and hurried up the process of preparations for his transfer. Even though he did that, it still took a few weeks until he set out for Ctesiphon. The road was long and tiring for Yazdegerd, who was used toforts of the pce. But now, on a road in a carriage it wasn''t sofortable. He had couldn''t sleep at nights and fell asleep only when he copsed fromck of sleep. They haunted him. The emotions he locked away broke free and the men he sent to die for him on the battlefield haunted him. He thought about them all the journey. He thought about their families, how they wept for their dead. He thought of the Towers of Silence, full of corpses with Sassanid insignia on them. Then, on one of these Towers, he saw a familiar figure. Smaller than others, dark hair, brown eyes. A hat. A very distinctive hat. Upon closer inspection, he saw it was no hat, but a crown. Crown of the Sassanid Shahanshah''s. He realized it quickly. It was he, he himself, lying there lifeless on the Tower of Silence, only to be ripped apart by birds. He was terrified. He never felt so scared in his whole life. How? How was he able to see it? Was he dead and this was his afterlife? He didn''t know, but it was the biggest nightmare of his life.


    He woke up. Sweating and breathing loudly. Some servant was standing next to him, offering him a cup of water. He quickly took it and drank it in few gulps. Then started figuring out what exactly happened. It was clear it was a dream, and he rejoiced at that. But he also wondered why did he lie there, on the slopes of Tower of Silence. He traced his thoughts back to when he was unwillingly pitying the dead soldiers and their families. In his mind, a good monarch had to bepletely independent of his emotions and be able to leave them behind. And he apparently wasn''t able to do that, at least not yet.


    "My Shahanshah, a messenger came while you were asleep. He had a message for you. From Sir Bahman Jaduya."


    Yazdegerd quickly took the message. It was early March, everything bloomed and grew. Along with Persian casualties. Wja. Another battle lost. Another ten thousand dead. "When will this end?" he thought. This bloodshed.


    "I see, Bahman. We''re all humans, after all."

 Chapter 30: The massacre at Walaja

    <h4>Chapter 30: The massacre at Wja</h4>


    Bahman was in Ctesiphon, gathering an army on the order of his Shahanshah. Anothermander, Andarzaghar already left with the first army, while Bahman was supposed to gather a second one, then meet at Wja, where they would stop muslim advances on Hira. Bahman was impatient, as he was already dyed too much and feared he wouldn''t get there quickly enough. He eventually gathered an army of about 10000 men from all of the surrounding towns garrisons. He knew his Shahanshah was supposed to arrive soon in Ctesiphon, and wanted to gift him a great victory. He set off to Wja, along the two rivers, Euphrates and Tigris, while Andarzaghar went along the southern shore of Euphrates. Bahman set off a week after Andarzaghar did, which waster than he expected. Never would he thought it''ll prove fatal.


    Andarzaghar marched along the river with an army of around 15000. Along the way, he encountered remaining soldiers that survived the Battle of Chains and Battle of River, joining him and his purpose. In the towns, a lot of non-muslim Arabs expressed their desire to join the fight. When he arrived at Wja and set up the camp, his army already numbered over 20000. He not only outnumbered the enemy himself, but with help from Bahman''s army, the victory should be ensured. Should be.


    Khalid''s scouts and spies, who were mostly Arabs hostile to Persians reported gathering of two big armies. Apparently, they were yet to join together near a vige called Wja. Khalid couldn''t take them on himself ¨C their numbers were way too high. And, also ording to the reports, Bahman Jaduya was supposed tomand both of the armies. And although Khalid was a military genius, hecked the confidence to stand against Bahman Jaduya, prestigious and renowned general everyone at least heard of once, while outnumbered and at a disadvantage. He had to destroy one of the armies before the second would arrive. So he advanced rapidly and quickly, arriving at Wja and camping near few days before Bahman was expected to arrive. It was a great opportunity and Khalid was not about to let it go. He observed the Persian army very well. They were outnumbered a bit, but not by that much. And, Khalid already defeated armies that outnumbered him by far. He didn''t think he won''t be able to do it again. He already had a n in mind.


    Andarzaghar was alerted upon the arrival of Muslim army. He became nervous and anxious, as he counted with Bahman and his troops to aid him. But he didn''t lose his head. He nned a strategy for the battle, wanting to stay on the defensive and fend off Arab attacks, until they''ll wear off. Then he''ll counter-attack and destroy the routing enemy. The n relied on the fact that Arabs will go on the offensive and also whether Andarzaghar will choose the right time to counterattack. He was so invested in nning he didn''t even see the Muslim cavalry moving behind them, behind the ridge.


    Khalid, as he was preparing for tomorrow''s battle, ordered his cavalry, under the cover of night to advance behind the enemy lines and attack on his signal. This strike right in the Persian back was supposed topletely disintegrate and crush Persian rear, should it be conducted in the right moment. And Khalid was positive he''ll find that right moment. He shall.


    Next morning, sun started shining, birds chirping and wildlife woke up. Andarzaghar had already deployed his army, as Khalid also did. Andarzaghar found it strange that the Arab army had very few cavalrymen. But he assumed they have them hidden somewhere, in the rear maybe, to serve as reinforcement or maybe a surprise attack on the advancing Persians. Never would he thought that he was right, partially, as Arab cavalry was in the rear ¨C in his armies rear. Andarzaghar only made a formal speech, as the stories of Arab brutality and bloodshed they conducted already spread from the survivors of previous battles into the ears of the rest of the soldiers. They had their purpose already ¨C to stop Arabs once and for all ¨C to not let them through.


    Horns roared and soldiers charged. Khalid ordered a general attack on Persian lines. And wasn''t very sessful. Not like he expected to be. Persians held them off pretty easily, while quickly replenishing those who died on the frontlines. Andarzaghar was there, with them, also fighting. And Khalid did the same. Arabs charged, were fend off, but charged again. After a third charge, Andarzaghar made a fatal mistake. He lost the patience and ordered a pursue. Right into Khalid''s hands. Persians charged the Arabs, who in the meantime formed a line, and pursued them. Arabs, bit by bit, in the middle started to back off, while holding still on the sides. After a while, Arab line formed a shape of crescent. A symbol of Im. And crescent is filled with full moon. The middle were Persians, while the outer lines were Arabs. War horn roared three times in a row. After a while, four thousand cavalry units appeared from behind the ridge, charging onto Persian exposed rear and making them the filling of a full moon.


    Andarzaghar found out about the encirclement while it was toote. His soldiers were already trapped inside it with no escape. No hole in the Arab lines, no weak spot. He though he was done for. But refused to give it up now. He quickly made some orders to ensure proper defence against the cavalry units. That was his best bet. The Arab cavalry represented the weakest spot in the Arab line. If he didn''t break through there, he wouldn''t break through anywhere. He ordered his men to concentrate most of their pressure there, while fending off the Arab infantry. Being encircled isn''t anything great ¨C this tactic is used to defeat muchrger armies. And there wasn''t much you could do when encircled. Only fight and pray.


    Bahman arrived at Wja, only to see the Persians encircled by the Arabs, desperately trying to fight their way out. He noticed the concentration on the cavalry unit. He quickly called hismander of Aswaran, a heavily armoured cavalry, and ordered him to charge right into the Arab cavalry unit and to make space for the Persians to retreat. This mission was well-suited for heavy cavalry, as their armour allowed the to hold their ground for a prolonged period. He then watched them as they were elerating themselves, preparing for the deadly charge.


    Andarzaghar was in awe as he saw the Aswaran charge down the hill right into the Arab cavalry. They also, incidentally or not, hit the infantry as well. No matter, Andarzaghar now had the room to retreat, and he did just that. He ordered his army to retreat through the holes the Aswaran made by their charge. Thousands of survivors were flooding out, most quick enough, but some were cut down during their fleeing. They retreated, and so did the Arabs. Khalid knew he couldn''t take on a new, fresh army, even if he had the numbers. If he didn''t retreat now, Persians could group up and pursue him, with him having no chance of winning. And so, he retreated, leaving hundreds of his infantrymen and cavalrymen to their fate at the hands of Aswaran.


    Andarzaghar barely retreated. Allthough most of his army survived the onught, the battle was clearly lost, even if he managed to hold the Arabs off. Ten thousand Persiansid dead on the battlefield, while only few thousand Arabs did. This battle wasn''t worth it. It wasn''t worth the price Persians paid. Arabs still had the strength to reinforce and continue on Hira, while Persians first had to regroup, reorganise and build a new army. Andarzaghar with Bahman decided to retreat back behind the Euphrates and discuss this matter with their Shahanshah, who should be arriving in Ctesiphon shortly.

 Chapter 31: The return of the King of kings

    <h4>Chapter 31: The return of the King of kings</h4>


    As Khalid retreated his army, he patiently and calmly observed Persians, as they grouped up and were preparing to retreat. He lost way too much than he nned to. More than half of his cavalrymen and two thousand infantrymenid dead, together with ten thousand dead Persians. His original n, to annihte the Persians and march on Hira had to be called off, as his current numbers wouldn''t suffice. He had to wait for reinforcements, which would arrive in a few days. He needed time, but not as much time as Persians did. He was angry, ming himself for not expecting Bahmans arrival. Bahman arrived sooner than anyone thought and basically saved the remaining 15000 Persians together with their general, Andarzaghar, from total annihtion. Khalid had them in his grasp. He only had to push the trigger, make the open palm of his hand into fist. But he didn''t. And now, he had to dy his n to wait for reinforcements and also had to count with Persians forming a new army to fight him. He still had the time in his advantage and wanted to make use of it. But he wasn''t so selfless as he may look like. Deep down, he med Bahman for ruining his ns and for killing so many of his soldiers. Arabs were didn''t have the numbers, as Persians did. Being in enemy territory with friendly territory being behind the desert, Khalid had few options for reinforcement. But Persians were able to quickly and efficiently gather new armies, with theirrge manpower pool and the closeness of the main poption centres. Although Khalid won against Andarzaghar, he lost against Bahman. But he wanted to defeat both of them. Frustrated, he ordered to set up camp and wait for reinforcements. Then, they march on Hira.


    ---


    Yazdegerd finally approached Ctesiphon. He didn''t know if the people there will ept him, but he didn''t have a choice. If he wanted to efficiently lead the war against Arabs, he had to move back to Ctesiphon. With the reports of Andarzaghars defeat in his hand, he approached Ctesiphon with a grim expression. Although Ctesiphon officials were noticed beforehand about the Shahanshah''s arrival, Yazdegerd didn''t expect much in the way of celebrating his return. And he was right to do so. When they arrived in Ctesiphon, only a crown of people were watching his carriage with him, sitting inside, having his face hidden by a cloth. Some people came to cheer, some were only curious and some were full of disdain. Yazdegerd paid them no attention, only waving every while to keep his image. As he rode through the city, which was muchrger than Istakhr, housing over 600 000 people. It was amercial, cultural and religious centre in the Asoristan, or Persian Mesopotamia. Truly a city worthy of being the capital of Sassanids.


    As they arrived in front of the pce, Yazdegerd was in awe. It was not a pce, but rather aplex. Pce of Khosrow I., built during the reign of Khosrow I., was an architectonic jewel. 37 metres high, 26 wide and 50 long, it was by far one of the biggest buildings in Persia, maybe even in the world. He wasn''t used to living in buildings this big. It felt kind of lonely, living in that hugeplex basically all alone. The caretakers and pce keepers weed the young Shah, leading him into his room. It was magnificent. It wasrge, with a lot of little details and furniture. The walls were decorated with trophies, beautiful swords, sabres and scimitars. There also was a ceremonial armour. His servants then started to bring his personal belongings inside his new room. Together with his belongings, crown of King of kings was also brought inside the pce, but had its ce secured near the throne room. Yazdegerd was tired after the long journey, so he just kind of fell into the bed and drifted off to sleep.


    ---


    Rostam marched with his army of around 26000 men through Baluchistan region. He didn''t encounter any resistance as of yet, but knew that won''tst for long. He nned to turn north just before the Kirthar Mountains and march on Herat. He wanted to catch their army, ideally still gathering, off guard and crush thempletely. If their army was gone, the siege would go much easily as they''ll be desperate and with low morale. If he didn''t encounter their army on the way, he could always just siege down Herat. After all, 26000 fully equipped and trained soldiers was a force to be reckoned with. He hoped that everything will go smoothly, or at least within the limits.


    Riding along the Kirthar Mountain range, with mountain peaks kilometres tall standing behind them, scouts rode to him, reporting army camping few miles north. Rostam had a bad feeling about this. When asked about their numbers, scouts could only answer with "many." Rostam had to take a look himself. He ordered the rest of the army to set up camp, and then took a few of his bodyguards and rode north, on a small hill that overlooked the camping army. It was great spot for observing them. And he saw them. These "many" were at least 20000 soldiers, if not more. He couldn''t count on his numbers that much now. It was obvious this was the army the rebelling nobles gathered to fight against their Shahanshah. He frowned and ordered his men to ride back into the camp. The enemy must''ve saw theming ¨C you just can''t overlook an army of 26000. There was no way. Rostam had to work with what he had. The mountains were in his back, having nowhere to retreat. If he tried to reposition so close to enemy, he''ll be ambushed. He had to take the bargain and try to win without moving around much. The only thing he was lucky about was that the enemy was camping in a small valley, so if he used his Aswaran and the Immortals his Shahanshah gave him efficiently, they would crush the enemy army. He had much to think about but not much time. Tomorrow, the battle shall begin. He mustn''t fail.

 Chapter 32: The aftermath of an onslaught

    <h4>Chapter 32: The aftermath of an onught</h4>


    "Andarzaghar! What the hell happened there? How is this possible?"


    As Bahman regrouped with Andarzaghar and helped him reorganize his army, his joy from seeing his friend returning unharmed turned into anger and sorrow. Anger on Arabs and sorrow for the dead Persians. He wanted revenge as soon as possible, but first had to know what happened. How could a much bigger army be defeated so easily and decisively? This question gnawed at him, in the back of his mind. And he wanted it answered.


    "I have to admit, my friend, I waspletely unaware of their plot. That Arab general, Khalid was his name, is a someone who shouldn''t be taken lightly! He is a worthy foe."


    Bahman looked unimpressed at Andarzaghar''s attempt to drive the conversation other way and to prevent them talking about something which shamed him so much.


    "My friend, I understand that you are ashamed of this, but we won''t be able to take revenge unless we know their strategy. So please, tell me, how did that Khalid defeat you?"


    Andarzaghar sighed. It looked like he won''t be able to dodge this discussion, so he might as well tell everything.


    "He sent most of his cavalrymen behind us, under the cover of night. Nobody noticed them, maybe because they''re a light cavalry, without the armour ringing on them. And horse steps don''t make much sound if muffled by sand, of which was plenty around. And that''s basically it. When I ordered counterattack against their retreating cavalry, they sprung out of nowhere, like a eagle spreading its wings andnding upon its prey. Weren''t it for your Aswaran, we would be the prey, which was hunted down."


    Such simple trick yet used so efficiently. While there was no doubt Andarzaghar also made some errors ¨C maybe hismand was a bit rash, or maybe he waited for too long. No one will know now that the deed is done. He started to take Arabs much more seriously than before, especially when being led by this man, Khalid ibn al-Walid. It was clear he will be the biggest obstacle Persia will have to ovee.


    "What shall we do now?" asked Andarzaghar. "Arabs will definitely march on Hira now and we''ll have no one to stop them. The city is destined to fall."


    "Now? Now we march to Ctesiphon. It is not our burden to bear from now on, but our Shahanshah''s, may he be immortal. It will be up to him to decide the next course of action."


    "Do you think we''ll make it there before they capture Hira?"


    "We must."


    Bahman then sent a report to his Shahanshah, stating the details and what happened during the battle. He also wrote about their march to Ctesiphon, and that they should discuss further details in person. He only thought it wouldn''t be toote.


    ---


    "Great! Excellent! Superb!"


    Usama ibn Zayd, the adopted son of prophet Mohammed was looking at Abu Bakr, current Caliph of Arabs and someone whom he took as a part of his family. Abu Bakr was reading a piece of paper while eximing these praising words. They were, of course, reports from Khalid ibn al-Walid, bringing news so good Abu Bakr had to hold onto something while reading them. Thousands upon thousands Persians lie dead on the battlefield Khalid left behind him. Arab army was doing much better than Abu Bakr even expected, so he started nning another campaign. Against the Romans. His goal of conquering Mesopotamia south of Euphrates was nearly done, so he would then delegate Khalid to fight the Romans and Ghassanids in Syria and Egypt. These two regions were the next in row for the Arabian n of expansion, and since the campaign in Persian Mesopotamia was going smoothly, he was able to n attack against Romans ahead, maybe even send an army before Khalid was finished in Mesopotamia to start things up. He had yet to decide. But everything else was clear. Syria and Egypt would be theirs.


    Usama was still sitting there, looking at Abu Bakr and his joy of reading the reports. He detested it. Thousands enemiesid dead, but thousands of Arabs too. Was it really worth it? Was it worth it, killing so many of Persians? After all, was this really what Ah wanted? To spread his name using sword and arrow? By spilling blood and burning viges? He didn''t think so. He detested this form of spreading their holy religion. After all, all are equal in the eyes of Ah, but howe some are more equal than the others? Howe its cheering when ten thousand Persians die, and its mourning when thousand Arabs die? Is this the equality Ah wanted? The equality they all believed in? It wasn''t and he wanted this unnecessary war to stop. To stop the bloodshed. It was only a matter of time before Persians will understand what''s going on, before they make their stand and crush the Arabs. He was sure of it. And so he aimed for the position of Caliph of Arabs. He had Abu Bakr''s support, and even support of few other influential people, members of the Mohammed''spany. Abu Bakr was old and weak. He already mentioned a few times to Usama he would resign and support him in the election. He, Usama, and Umar had the biggest chance to win. And while Usama wanted to stop this aggressiveness, before Persians bite back, Umar wanted to push and continue on, conquering Persianspletely. They were like fire and water, and it was up to the weather to decide, who would prevail.


    ---


    Rostam stood eye to eye with Endraghar, the leader of the rebellion. They knew each other personally, after all, they all were members of the same faction once. But not anymore. He came before Rostam with an offer. He wanted to negotiate. And so, they both stood there, on their horses, looking each other in the eyes.


    "Rostam, long time no see. So now you''re serving our Shahanshah? How low have you stooped?"


    "Dear Endarghar, at least I am not pacting and rebelling against my rightful liege."


    "Rightful liege? He''s just an ipetent kid. Even my horse would rule better than him!"


    "In this half a year, he has ruled better and morepetent than you ever will. This negotiation is over."


    Endarghar looked at Rostam, angered, but then ordered his men and rode back. Rostam had no intention to listen to any offers that came from this mindless fool. It was clear as ice that man had never met his Shahanshah, but he still talked as if he knew him very well. Rostam didn''t need to hear any more words from his, as his answer would remain the same. Prepare for battle.

 Chapter 33: One battle to end the civil war

    <h4>Chapter 33: One battle to end the civil war</h4>


    Rostam had nowhere to run, with mountains behind him and enemy army in front of him. He still couldn''t grasp how exactly did they manage to build an army so big. They must''ve started gathering the army much sooner than they dered their disloyalty. And that meant this rebellion wasn''t because of the drastic reforms. Maybe they were funded from outside? Maybe. It was certainly possible that any of Persia''s enemies would promise themnd and wealth should they rebel against their Shahanshah. If it truly was like that, the culprit was fairly clear. But even if he was mistaken, right now, it didn''t matter. What mattered was the enemy army in front of him.


    He had the high ground, and with it came the advantage. Should he order his heavy cavalry charge down, the charge would be much more devastating than normal. His enemy was practically unable to use his cavalry. But it looked like he knew it, as enemy forces cavalry was in low numbers and a light one. They looked more like a scout unit than a proper light cavalry. It was obvious their original purpose wasn''t head-onbat, or even battle participation. Was his enemy desperate? Maybe he was overwhelmed by Rostam''s numbers, maybe he wasn''t confident in himself or maybe he was just overly cautious. But Rostam knew his weakness and was determined to use it. He deployed all of his Aswaran on one nk, while he kept The Immortals in the centre, behind the infantry. Archers were deployed on the other nk, together with some spearmen and pikemen to fend off any cavalry charges. Lightly armoured cavalry like they had would melt when facing the sharp spears and pikes. He saw that the enemy went on the defensive, putting his only cavalry unit on the right nk, facing the Aswaran. Infantry covered the centre and archers were hiding behind the infantry. Rostam saw his meaning. If Rostam ordered his Aswaran to charge down, enemy light cavalry would intercept them and stall them at least, while enemy spearmen would hastilye and kill off the Aswaran. When cavalry, especially against spears, lost its momentum, they were easy target for long-reaching spearmen. It worked for Bahman only because of the surprise momentum they had. It wouldn''t work for Rostam. And that is exactly why Rostam decided to go for it. If the enemy infantry left its ce, archers would be unprotected, and when archers face the charge of heavy and elite cavalry, such as The Immortals, bloodbath is created.


    Rostam gave orders to his sergeants who ryed them further. His order for the Aswaran was to engage the enemy cavalry, and once the enemy infantry leaves its position, they are ordered to fall back. The Immortals will take their ce, charging down the enemy archers followed by infantry. If the archers are destroyed, their army won''t have any support whatsoever,bine that with relentless arrow rains from Rostam''s archers, repeated cavalry and infantry charges, their army will copse. Eventually.


    It was time. Rostam oversaw the whole battlefield as he ordered the first wave of the attack. Aswaran started to gain eleration while charging down the hill. You could feel the momentum in them. Anyone standing in their way right now would be crushed down. Four thousand of them, charging down the slopes, right into the enemy cavalry. They didn''t move an inch, but their horses did, clearly unhappy about the four thousand, heavily armoured men charging at them at high speed. Then came the sh. Aswaran rode right through, not stopping while taking the enemy cavalry with them. Some men flew a good ten metres beforending on the ground, dead. Some jumped off their horse to save their life, only to be crushed under the heavy horses. Some tried to run away. And some even managed to. Either way, their cavalry was dead, with Aswaran now being surrounded by enemy spearmen while being under fire from enemy archers. Although Rostam''s archers were firing suppressive shots on the enemy, it wasn''t enough to stop enemy archers from firing a few salves on the Aswaran, as they hurriedly retreated. Not few remained dead on the battlefield. But this was no time to be feeling remorse, as the main charge was yet to unfold. Ten thousand Immortals spread their wings and unleashed their wrath upon the enemy in the form of their unrelenting, hard as steel charge, as if being the eagle descending,ing down upon its prey. It was magnificent. Rostam stayed on the hill, observing the charge. They ran right through the enemy archers and some infantry that was left there. Who would''ve guessed what can ten thousand men do to twenty thousand. And how easily. Bodies flew away where The Immortals touched the enemy. Enemies came down where The Immortals swung their sabres and thrusted their spears. Rostam''s infantry, clearly inspired by this charge was already enthusiastically following their orders and also charging down to help The Immortals and to allow them to fall back a bit, to gain the distance for a new charge. Enemy archersid dead, massacred. Their infantry was still holding, fending off Rostams infantry while blocking the iing arrows. Rostam didn''t see Endarghar anywhere. He either fled, or was lying dead on the battlefield. Either way, this battle was won.


    ---


    "Roxane, my dear daughter, again? Why did you again fled from your Middle Persian lesson? Didn''t we already talked this over? I thought we did."


    This wasn''t the first time this happened. Roxane ran off from her Middle Persian teacher more than once before. It was bing a habit for Heraclius to scold her and to force to participate in the lessons.


    "You need to learn Middle Persian, as you''ll be using it for the most part of your life, Roxane. Just ept it and bear with it. I promise you, he''s a great boy. I''m sure you''ll like him."


    She heard these words so many times before. "He''s a great boy." "He''s handsome." "He''s rich and powerful." "He''s the Emperor." All of these phrases started to sound almost the same to her. So what if he''s handsome, rich or powerful? Why should she care? She never said she wants to marry someone who is any of that.


    "I would ept it, were it so easy as how you make it sound, Father. But you can''t understand me, and never will! You married Mother because you loved her and no one forced you. I have it different! You are forcing me!"


    Heraclius did feel a bit guilty, because he loved his daughter. But then again, it was for the so-called "greater good." In other words, circumstance forced him to make such decision. He came closer to her, kneeling down and hugging you.


    "You are right, my darling. I can''t possibly know what you are going through. But please, believe me this. I wouldn''t marry you to someone I wouldn''t trust will keep you safe and happy."


    He couldn''t possibly force on a seven-year old girl something like "If you don''t marry him, war will break out and thousands would die." That would be too much for her to swallow. She began crying, tears flowing down from her cheeks.


    "Now, will you return to your lesson? Pretty please." asked Heraclius in a gentle tone. Roxane just nodded.

 Chapter 34: Let the city fall

    <h4>Chapter 34: Let the city fall</h4>


    The armies that once gloriously marched from Ctesiphon now returned, battered and scarred, bruised and exhausted. Their bannersying low, with Derafsh Kaviani, the Sassanid Banner, soaked in blood, but carried high in the air, the only banner, together with Farahavar, the symbol of Zoroastrianism. The rest of the bannerid low, as gbearers struggled to keep them in the air, having their arms go numb. Common folk in Ctesiphon observed the soldiers, who marched behind two men riding on horses, surrounded by a few Aswaran. The army marched in a long line, right inside the city. Some people were rightfully horrified at this sight, while some merely brushed it off. Children observed the soldiers, mainly the magnificent Aswaran with awe and amazement. Boys hoped they''ll grow up like them while girls respected and admired them, maybe hoping their future husband will be as amazing as these men. But there was nothing "amazing" about them. About being a soldier. They were the men who escaped the bloodbath, having seen the horrors not many will ever see. What was "amazing" about those ten thousand Persians, who were now rotting away on the battlefield. The only emotion they hoped to receive from other was the recognition. They didn''t need respect, they didn''t need to be admired. They even didn''t need remorse or pity. They wanted their deeds to be recognized, they wanted someone to tell them all of this wasn''t in vain and that the battle they fought was for something. That they achieved something. That was something they wanted to know. But will they ever know?


    Bahman with Andarzaghar were already in the pce, waiting for their Shahanshah to arrive. Although they announced their arrival beforehand, it seemed like their Shah wasn''t able to arrive on time. Maybe he overslept. Maybe he had other matters to attend to. Or maybe he was just toozy to and leisured in his pce gardens. If that was the case, no one would me him. Gardens in this pce were much bigger and amodating, than the pce gardens in Istakhr. They sat there, in the big room which served as a ce for private discussions, quietly sipping their wine. Bahman was quite calmed and rxed, while Andarzaghar was anxious and nervous. In his head, he had gone through many scenarios where he would be punished for his ipetence and for the loss he caused. In one scenario, he was stripped of his titles. In other, he was whipped as a punishment and in thest one, he had his head cut down. It was in the middle of May, 633. Andarzaghar would be 43 years old next month. He had two children and a wife. He had a home to return to, titles and wealth. He had properties, connections and friends. He didn''t want to die, at least not by the order of his own Shah, to whom he was one of the few loyal from beginning. Bahman noticed his behaviour, and although almost ten years older, he understood his worries.


    "Don''t worry, Andarzaghar. I don''t think our Shahanshah, may he be immortal, is one to punish you so harshly, if he''ll even punish you. He''ll, at most, strip you of themand over the army."


    "Do you think so, Bahman? I hope you are right, because death isn''t something I look forward to. And if I were to die, let it be on the battlefield, not by execution."


    "Yes, I think so. And if not, I''ll stand with you and I''ll help you talk your way out of it. But let''s hope it won''t be necessary."


    "Thank you, Bahman. Let us hope."


    They continued the small talk for a while, until they heard the knocking on the door. A small figure entered, without waiting for them to respond. It was clear who it is. He entered the room, while the two men stood up and bowed.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    Yazdegerd smiled on the men, looking very innocent. Only Bahman knew who was hiding behind that fa?ade. Andarzaghar haven''t met Yazdegerd yet, so he didn''t know what, or rather who to expect. In front of him stood an innocent looking boy, yet Andarzaghar was convinced that isn''t all. That his true self is hidden within him. Did anyone truly knew Yazdegerd''s true self? Maybe not even Yazdegerd himself knew.


    "Generals, wee back. I was saddened to hear of your loss, but I am d both of you are alive and well. So, tell me. What happened? Where is the enemy marching now?"


    Before Andarzaghar could talk, Bahman interrupted him.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, the enemy used devious and dishonorable tactics to defeat our army. They sent cavalrymen around our nk, under the cover of night and then attacked our rear."


    "Most dishonorable, truly. What happened next?"


    "The cavalrymen met with my Aswaran. That happened."


    "Great. So I can take it they surrounded Andarzaghars army before you merged? Was that why you weren''t inmand, Bahman?"


    "Yes, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    Andarzaghar became visibly more and more nervous, and so did Bahman. They tried to talk their way out of it, but couldn''t just straight up lie.


    "I see. Very well then. Where is the enemy headed next?"


    "To Hira. But they suffered a lot of casualties, so I''d reckon they''re still reinforcing and recovering now."


    "Is that so? Alright then. Tell me, general, what is the best course of action in your eyes?"


    Yazdegerd stood up and looked out of the window. Andarzaghr could tell this was no mere boy. He was already corrupted with politics, intrigues and warfare. He thought of his own son, when he was Yazdegerd''s age. His sweet, innocent face wasn''t physically able to show such calm and assertive face. His way of talking was much more child-like than Yazdegerd''s and his behaviour was innocent and childish. He pitied the Yazdegerd, not being able to enjoy the childhood as every other children of his status could. Bahman, on the other hand, was surprised that his Shahanshah wants an advice from him.


    "My Shahanshah, I think we should let the city fall. We aren''t able to defeat the Arabs, not with our army in this state and their army fully reinforced and recovered."


    "Yes, you are right Bahman. But I won''t let them have it all."


    Bahman didn''t understand.


    "What do you mean, my Shahanshah?"


    "Evacuate Hira and let the city fall."

 Chapter 35: The idea without a plan

    <h4>Chapter 35: The idea without a n</h4>


    Both Andarzaghar and Bahman stared at him, with obvious puzzlement in their faces. He wanted what?


    "My Shahanshah, I don''t think I quite understand your intentions." said Bahman, still thinking that he had maybe misheard. Andarzaghar nodded in agreement.


    "What is so hard to understand? I said I want to evacuate Hira."


    Bahman sighed when the possibility of him mishearing diminished.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, evacuating a city with thousands of inhabitants is no easy task."


    "I know. That''s why I''m telling you now, so you can get to work. Evacuate the whole city, so when the Arabse, they won''t see anything but a ghost town. I don''t want them getting supplies and possibly reinforcements from the local popce."


    Bahman understood his intentions. Were the Arabs, eager to pige and resupplye into a city that wouldn''t give them that opportunity, not only their morale, but also will to fight and fighting capability would significantly lower. Also, there was a risk of the local poption favouring the Arabs over the Persian Shah and of them converting to Im, meaning high possibility of such converts pledging their sword to Arabian cause. Yazdegerd couldn''t let that happen.


    "I understand, my Shahanshah. But where do you intend to house them? You can''t just bring thousands of people out of nowhere. And what about the time? Arabs reinforcements are surely on their way now and we won''t have much time to execute your orders."


    These were all feasible and answers that should truly be answered. But maybe another time. It wasn''t because Yazdegerd didn''t want to answer them. He didn''t know the answer. He didn''t think that far about the matter and only gave the order impulsively. That meant he didn''t really n it, as he came up with it not long ago. But who was Bahman to question his Shahanshah''s decision?


    "That is why I''m telling you now, general Bahman. So you can act as quicky as possible. Bring the people here to Ctesiphon. We will decide what to do with them then. Now go. You are allowed to speak on my behalf and to use whatever means necessary to make sure the citizens are evacuated."


    Bahman had nothing to say anymore, so he just gave up on trying to talk his Shahanshah out of it.


    "Yes, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    Bahman then left, leaving Shahanshah and Andarzaghar alone. Andarzaghar was hesitating on what to do next. Luckily for him, Yazdegerd broke the ice.


    "General, what do you think of this?"


    Andarzaghar was confused and scared a bit. He still feared for his wellbeing.


    "My Shahanshah, what could you mean?"


    "I mean this. All of this. This war, this circumstance, this world. The situation we''re in.


    Andarzaghar was confused. Why did his Shahanshah ask him and not Bahman? They met for the first time in their life now. But maybe that was it. Yazdegerd clearly saw that Andarzaghar is confused very much.


    "We met for the first time, yet you instantly treated me as your Shahanshah and not as a child. Not many would do that. In fact, you''re one of the few. You were obviously aware of your and mine positions, regardless of age. And I wonder if you are that well aware even in other fields. Like politics, for example."


    It was all very confusing for Andarzaghar. Being told something like this. But it was true. He constantly thought about his own life that he never really bothered with the fact that his Shahanshah is a child, with whom should be easier to negotiate and discuss with. This came as a surprise for him, but he intended to grab this opportunity.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, if I were to give my opinion on the current matter, I''d say we are actually doing pretty well."


    "That''s surprising, given you lost me good ten thousand soldiers by a simple trick. But go on. Tell your reasoning."


    "I don''t mean to be rude, but given your Empires condition..."


    "It''s in a state of disarray, yes, I know. Don''t bother with that. Continue."


    "Well, given your Empire''s condition, our progress in the war isn''t that bad. We have managed to halt their advance and got ourselves the precious time to regroup, and, well, evacuate Hira. Things could be much worse for us as we are now, so I think it''s not as bad as it looks."


    Yazdegerd was pleased with that answer. All he ever heard were talks like "If we don''t defeat them, it''s over." and such. But this was the first time he heard a positive response. He appreciated it. If the Arabian campaign was going really well, they''d be at Ctesiphon by now. But it was obvious they struggled with something. Maybe it really was the manpower that theycked.


    "Very well. I like that. Yes, I see. Well, thank you for your time, general. Now, if you''ll excuse me, I have to go and find somece to put those poor souls from Hira.


    ---


    "Herat sure is huge." murmured Rostam as the city came into his sight. After defeating the rebel army, they let the captive soldiers go, but only after they stripped them of their weapons. The enemy actually broke down under the pressure and fled, rather than being killed. Not many died in that battle, most fled or were captured. Rostam then marched on Herat, hoping the siege won''t take long. The garrison shouldn''t have much will to fight, as the cause they fought for weren''t even theirs, but of somebody else. They didn''t have anything to gain from it. Or so Rostam thought.


    They set up the siege camp and started scavenging the surroundings for trees to cut to build siege engines. Rostam ordered they build two trebuchets, a battering ram and few siege towers. It would take a lot of time to do that. But that was exactly what he wanted, as he didn''t want to assault the city walls. Although he''d most likely win, the losses would be great and soldiers would most likely pige the city in the process. And so he ordered a lot of siege equipment to be built in order to prolong the siege period, but still look to the enemy as if they were preparing for the siege in order to break their morale. Once they see the numerous siege towers, firing trebuchets and battering ram rolling onto them, they''ll quickly evaluate whether they''ll surrender or not. The siege has begun.

 Chapter 36: The city of ghosts

    <h4>Chapter 36: The city of ghosts</h4>


    It was clear to Rostam that those men didn''t want to bleed and die for something that didn''t matter to them. The half-assed defence they put up and how they didn''t even deploy any advanced siege engines, like trebuchets on walls and towers, it was clear they''re only acting so against their will. Maybe forced by their duty, maybe forced by their generals. It didn''t really matter, as when it''lle to the actual engagement, they''ll most likely flee or surrender. But Rostam hoped such engagement wouldn''t have to even begin. He hoped they''ll surrender much earlier at the sight of the siege engines and the massive armying onto them. Trebuchets were already built and were throwing whatever projectiles they could find. Battering ram was almost finished and the siege towers were half-done. It was only a matter of time, and time was something Rostam didn''t at the momentck.


    --


    "Bring them over here and then load these supplies onto the wagon. They''lle in handy. Also, don''t forget to clear up the guardhouse and the armoury ¨C we can''t have enemy finding here anything useful."


    The evacuation of Hira was in full swing. People weren''t happy about it, obviously, but did in the end obey Bahman and his army and started gathering their belongings. People who owned any cattle or other animals had them pull wagons with their belongings, while poorer ones had to rely on wagons and carriages the army brought with them. And as such, a lot of belongings got mixed up on the already full wagons. Bahman was overseeing the whole operation, making sure nothing goes forgotten and everything useful is taken with them. As people were finished and prepared to leave, he made few final arrangements, to make sure everything is in order, and then, left. The once popted city of Hira looked like a ghost town now, empty and forgotten. Bahman estimated Arabs will arrive here only few day after, so he had to hurry. He hoped Arabs won''t pursue them over the Euphrates. Then, leading his twenty thousand soldiers and several thousand inhabitants, they set off to the east.


    Khalid stopped about two kilometres from Hira, observing the city and waiting for the rest of his army to group up. He received the promised reinforcements and was now marching on Hira with 25 000 men, promising all of them the pige and loot of the city. The only thing he found strange was the fact that no one was patrolling on the walls and that, although the city gates were open, no one seemed to go in or out. He found it strange, to a point that he was curious about it. He sent scouts to see what is going on. While he waited for them, he reorganized his thoughts. This has to be Hira. It was in far too good condition to be some ruined, not inhabited anymore city. But it was strange. Far too strange. He became nervous.


    "General, the scouts have returned."


    After a thirty-minute wait, that felt more like an hour long wait, the scouts finally showed up. Their facial expression was full of confusion and nervousness. Khalid began to sweat.


    "General, the city... is empty."


    Khalid''s face was full of confusion as he looked up in the scouts eyes.


    "Empty? What do you mean by "empty."? borate."


    The scout became visibly more ufortable, as if fearing for something. He gulped.


    "The city is empty. People are gone. There''s no one in there. Not soldiers, not inhabitants, not even cattle. Everything is gone."


    Khalid''s face of confusion quickly changed into a horrified expression. He was in turmoil. His soldiers were promised the loot and the pige of the city. They were all eager to do so. How exactly was he supposed to tell them their right of pige wasn''t going to apply here? The city was theirs, but at what cost? He decided to go and explore the city from the inside. He took the army with him, hoping something of value was left there for the soldiers to salvage. They marched right into the opened gate, which still bore the banner of the Sassanids. As they approached the gate, it was already blindingly obvious. The city was empty. They went in, looking around and sticking close to each other. The haunting atmosphere the city had was a strike to the soldiers morale. Some crows were sitting on the roofs or the battlements, while rats and mice squeaked around in very distinctive and recognizable sound. Doors creaked in the wind, rubble fell from the wall and the trees whispered. The city''s ghost-like atmosphere was haunting every one of the soldiers. Even Khalid. What happened here? Where are the people? Did they just leave one day with all their belongings? Or did they died off in some horrible incident? Maybe gue? Or maybe some massacre? And if they did, how long ago? Considering basically every valuable thing was gone, it must''ve been long time ago. The soldiers had the same thought. Some thought of the more natural causes, like water poisoning, harvest failure and iing famine, while others thought of the more supernatural causes. That this city was cursed, or maybe haunted by a ghost, or even multiple ghosts. Some though someone controlling dark magic sent a spell on this city, basically purging the whole poption and enving their dead bodies. This was, of course,pletely baseless and just untrue. But the fact the soldiers thought it was more powerful than facts and logic, leaving Khalid''s army demoralized and wanting to leave. Their wish had not been answered, as Khalid ordered them to search the city thoroughly and to make sure they leave nothing behind. Then he ordered to set up camp here, to take control of the battlements and to make Hira their temporary base. Then he ordered a letter to be written and sent to Abu Bakr, containing the information that Hira has fallen. Just so Caliph is pleased. The campaign was fulfilled and soon would the order from Abu Bakre. The order to march on the Romans.

 Chapter 37: Rulers opinion

    <h4>Chapter 37: Rulers opinion</h4>


    Someone stepped up on the battlements, some figure different from the others. He sure wasn''t soldier, that much was clear. He had formal clothes on him, with some kind of cap on his head. Next to him, someone who looked like a herald stood. He blowed on the horn he carried with him and the formal clothed person talked, as Rostam and his army was preparing their siege towers and battering ram.


    "I am Hromozd, governor of Herat, appointed by my lord Endarghar. Ie here to discuss the terms of surrender!"


    Rostam was pleased by this, but didn''t show it. His soldiers, though, were cheering from pure happiness. No one wanted to die a horrendous death somewhere on these walls. Sieges were costly, and siege assaults even more. Mainly in lives. Everyone knew that ¨C even the freshest of recruits. Sieges were costly, and so both Rostam''s army and Herat''s garrison wanted to avoid one. Rostam called for hismanders and discussed the matter with them. Should they make them surrender unconditionally? Or should they make some guarantees for them?


    "General Rostam, I don''t they''ll surrender if we''d offer them unconditional surrender. I feel like they''ll want some guarantees ¨C like ensuring the garrison won''t be killed and the city looted."


    Onemander voiced his opinion. Another followed, agreeing with him.


    "I think so too, general. They won''t surrender unless we guarantee them and the city safety."


    Rostam listened to all sorts of opinions from hismanders. Everyone wanted basically the same -to capture the city without needless bloodshed. Rostam wasn''t an exception. He wanted this from the start. After all, these men and the city wasn''t responsible for the actions of their marzban. He was only worried whether his soldiers would ept losing their right of pige ¨C even if the city fell without the fight. There was only one way to find out.


    "I am Rostam Farrokhzad, spahbed of the Empire of Iranians and general of this army. Hromozd, governor of Herat, I bring you the conditions of your surrender. Should you surrender, I personally will guarantee you and your soldiers safety. I shall also ensure the city isn''t looted or piged in any way. But I will need you to give me full control of the city and its administration. And, also, I want you to ensure wine will flow all night long tonight. What say you?"


    Rostam thought Hromozd will at least think for a while about it. But he didn''t. His answer came right away.


    "General Rostam Farrokhzad, I ept your offer. We shall surrender under these conditions. Open the gate."


    Therge, majestic gate started to open before Rostam''s eyes. Soldiers on the walls still looked a bit nervous, as if they weren''t sure if they should trust Rostam and his words. Rostam with his bodyguard rode in front of the gate as it opened, riding through it into the city. The army followed him. He ordered his trusted ones to bring Hromozd to him and to take control of the city as a whole. The city was theirs and he had lot to do.


    ---


    Pce in Constantinople was in turmoil. Reports of brutal Persian defeats reached them as detailed as reports could be, if not a bit overrated. Basileus immediately summoned his council to discuss further arrangements. Although Persian Shahanshah asked him to not send any help, he was certain the young Shah only wanted to show off his power in front of Basileus. He brought the man that brought the reports with him. Soon, most of his council was gathered, with only few, such as Jabh not being present. Jabh was currently in Syria taking care of his kingdoms affairs. Those present, namely Bonus, Nicetas, Phillippicus and Heraclius himself. Heraclius looked around nervously before initiating the discussion. He wanted to help the Persians, but still had his mind on the words written in the letter from the Persian Shah. "Don''t send your armies until I personally ask." he said. The question was whether such a request was fulfible or not. Whether he could shove it aside as a ridiculous request from a young Shah, or whether he should take it as a more of an advice than a request. He didn''t know.


    "Your Majesty, shall we begin?"


    Heraclius'' trail of thoughts was interrupted by Bonus, who reluctantly reminded him of the gathering and that he should begin the discussion.


    "Yes, of course. Gentlemen, I have called you here due to the reports of Persian defeats in the Mesopotamia region. Reports say that every army Persians sent against the Arabs was utterly defeated and that few of the Perisans best generalsy dead in the sand. It seems whole southern Mesopotamia is in Arab hands and even the city of Hira has fallen. I should tell you that the Persian Shahanshah himself asked me to not intervene until he himself asks, but I have second thoughts about that."


    The men murmured. Philippicus and Nicetas shook their heads in disagreement while Bonus and few others were thinking seriously about the matter.


    "Your Majesty, I think we shouldn''t help these Persians. If their Shah asked for it himself, let them have it. Let them drink what they spilled."


    Philippicus voiced his opinion with Nicetas nodding in agreement. Heraclius didn''t expect anything less. It seems that Philippicus and Nicetas still didn''t get over how the Persians defeated them. It scarred their pride and image, and what was Roman general without pride and Roman noble without image?


    "Magister militum, I feel like I must remind you about the fact that Persian Shahanshah is our precious ally, and what you are suggesting sounds like simple treachery. Are you suggesting we should betray our ally?"


    Philippicus frowned, but before he could answer, Nicetas started talking.


    "Your Majesty, with all respect, if the Persians asked us not to help, I don''t think we should meddle into their affairs. I think we should respect their request."


    Although he said it very nicely, he basically meant that they should let Persians lose.


    "But-"


    Before Heraclius could answer, someone dared to interrupted him. It was Bonus.


    "Your Majesty, it is very umon of me, but I agree with magister militum. If we can''t even respect the requests of our allies, how can we expect them to trust us? I think we should at least wait for their plea, should it arrive."


    Heraclius was surprised by Bonus'' opinion on the matter, but reluctantly gave up. Was his opinion really that wrong, or was his authority as an Emperor fading away?

 Chapter 38: Does he rule better?

    <h4>Chapter 38: Does he rule better?</h4>


    "My Basileus, letter from king Jabh."


    Messenger ran up to Heraclius with a letter in his hands, shouting. It was middle of summer 633. Heraclius stopped walking and turned towards the running messenger but didn''t go towards him. He just stood there, waiting. He ran fairly fast, as messengers should. He had to ride all over Anatolia to reach Constantinople, so the reports had some dy. The messenger finally reached Heraclius, and, while kneeling, handed him the letter. Heraclius anxiously reached for the letter, but didn''t open it yet.


    "How old are the reports?"


    Messenger, clearly out of breath, had trouble answering.


    "Around... two days, my Basileus."


    Two days wasn''t ideal, but it''s not like Heraclius could do anything with it. It just showed howcking the road infrastructure in Anatolia is. Wanting to reach Constantinople through Anatolia, you either had to go along the southern coast through cities like Seleucia and Tarsus, then, following the coast, through Smyrna and then north. Or, you could go trough the Pontic mountains to the north, through Theodosiopolis and Trebizond, arriving to the ck Sea coast. Then you could continue, again, along the coast through Sinop, then arriving in Constantinople. But the shortest way would be through the center of Anatolia. Problem was that there were only fewrger towns, nothingparable to cities like Smyrna or Trebizond. The biggest towns in the central Anatolia were Ikonion and Gtia, and before reaching them, you had to go through the Armenian mountains, then through Anatolian teau before reaching any significant civilization. Mainly this, but also the difficulty of crossing the mountains were reasons no one travelled through the central Anatolia, at least not from Syria. Heraclius didn''t know what route the messenger took, but two days toplete the journey were certainly reasonable, but again, not ideal. Heraclius started to open the letter, with the messenger still kneeling there.


    "Thank you. You may go."


    Messenger bowed, then stood up and gracefully left Heraclius, who continued to stand in the middle of the corridor, before finally leaving to go and read the letter in private. He ventured into his office, sitting into his armchairfortably. He then opened the letter, finally. He read through it quickly.


    "Your Majesty, Basileus of all Romans Heraclius,


    I humbly write you this letter to inform you of the military actions conducted by the Arabs in Syria and Judea. It seems, that after conquering the Mesopotamia south of Euphrates, they turned their attentions to your holdings in Syria and Judea. As of today, the only actions they managed were few raids on some insignificant viges. It seems they are testing us, to see how we''ll respond. For now, I ordered garrisons to be reinforced in the important cities and am preparing an army to deter any potential Arab advances. Every city in the area has been alerted and was advised to prepare any defences they have in their disposition. We also have reports of Arabs gathering a fairlyrge army, mainly from the conquered areas in Mesopotamia. It seems their conversion strategy "either you convert or you pay, in money or blood" is working wonders. Perhaps we should try it too on the infidels that started to appear in Aegyptus. But I digress. As of today, 14th of July 633, no significant encounter with the Arab army has been reported as we''re still waiting for them to make their move. I shall inform you about the progress inter letters.


    Sincerely, king Jabh, loyal vassal of Basileus of all Romans Heraclius.


    14th July, 633."


    Heraclius was overwhelmed. What was he supposed to do in this situation? He had no option but to trust Jabh and wait for any further reports. He couldn''t afford to leave Constantinople, as he could easily return, only to find his family dead and the city in another ruler''s hand. Were they ready for Arab attack? He didn''t know. He hoped they were. Their numbers in the army were mostly replenished from the bloody conflict with Persians, but then again, numbers weren''t everything, as proved by Persians, who were utterly defeated by clever, sometimes even underhanded tactics by inferior enemy. To Arabs, numbers didn''t seem to matter. They relied on morale and tactics, so there were basically only few ways to defeat them. The first way was to break and crush their morale. The other was to just use better tactic then them. It sounded easy, but it was everything but easy. Heraclius was wrecking his brain, thinking how to defeat them, or if it was even possible for him. Then, out of nowhere, he heard a familiar voice speaking in the corridor behind his door, apanied by footsteps of someone running.


    "Your Highness, Princess Roxane, where did you go? The lesson isn''t over!"


    Heraclius recognized the man by his ent. It was the teacher Roxane was assigned. She once again ran away from her Middle Persian lesson. Just when Heraclius thought she stopped doing that, she proved him wrong. He sighed and smiled a bit. She was hisst daughter to remain with him in the pce. Once she would go, he would remain alone. But it was for the best. At least he hoped so. His every other daughter was already on other rulers court, doing their best as the said rulers wife. Heraclius thought often about whether it was the right thing to do, to marry his dear daughters off to foreign rulers. He was a ruler. Even if he thought about whether it''s right or wrong, he wouldn''te to a conclusion. Only thing any good ruler was able to conclude was how necessary it was. When ruling, it didn''t matter whether the decision was deemed to be a good, kind and virtuous one, or whether it was bad, cruel and hideous one. The only thing that mattered was whether it led to a profitable oue. Emotions had no ce in ruling a country. But sometimes, admitting that was hard and painful. Heraclius looked on the painting of a woman, very beautiful one, with noble clothes and very pretty hair. He smiled.


    "What do you think, dear. Do I rule better?"

 Chapter 39: Gears are in motion

    <h4>Chapter 39: Gears are in motion</h4>


    Rostam arrived back to Ctesiphon, his army apanied by a parade the city didn''t see for a long time. The Persian army didn''t achieve such stunning victory for a long time now, even if they just crushed a rebellion. While the western army bled against Arabs, the one in the east celebrated its victory in the newly "liberated" Herat. Rostam did keep his promises and issued an order to punish every soldier that tries to use his influence for looting or rape. Soldiers were, instead of the right of pige, awarded with a celebration in the whole city with wine being free to drink for every soldier in Rostam''s army. The governor of Herat, the one who negotiated the surrender, was taken into custody for interrogation, were he in any way coborating with Endarghar. Rostam left this to his subordinates, but as far as he knew, he waster released.


    Rostam and his army were weed in the city as grand victors. Of course, it was Yazdegerd that ordered the parade to be prepared as a means to elevate the morale of the army and the city. People were still not very trusting towards their young Shahanshah, and the defeats of the Persian army didn''t help. So this was the best he could do, for now, as the situation would quickly change. With the Rostam returning back victorious, Yazdegerd finally gathered enough power and influence to take control of the country as a whole. He would gain control over the Khorasan rather quickly and he held considerable power in the rest of the country. It was finally time for him to take control over religion by installing the kid, supposed Zoroaster''s reincarnate as the head of the religion. At this point, no one would have the power to stop him.


    Yazdegerd had Farrukhzad be called to him. He also called Jalinus, with whom he didn''t speak since he sent him to Ctesiphon. With the Arabs fed for some time, turning their attention to Roman Syria, Yazdegerd had the opportunity he never had before. The unruly clergymen in Persia would finally cease to be independent from the state. He also called Bashir, who was meant to act as an advisor of sorts for the Zoroaster''s reincarnate. The act is very important, as the only thing he would have to do is to act ording to his Shahanshah''s, or Yazdegerd''s wishes.


    Farrukhzad met Bashir in front of their Shahanshah''s office, both aware what the content of the discussion they''ll partake in will be. Farrukhzad smiled on Bashir, who responded with a slight nod. He wasn''t in a mood for something like that. Farrukhzad noticed that and his face suddenly turned more serious.


    "It seems it''s time." said Farrukhzad, his face turning into a slight grin.


    "That it is." responded Bashir with a serious expression.


    Farrukhzad then opened the door.


    Yazdegerd weed them with a smile on his face and with wine on the table. They knelt down, greeted their Shahanshah, stood up and sat down. Just by looking at their faces, you could tell they were nervous. The solid, steel expression, as if abandoned and left by time. They both looked at their Shahanshah, with exactly that expression. It was time for him to change expressions. He stood up, so he wouldn''t have to look up to see their faces. Both Farrukhzad and Bashir were bing more and more rxed.


    "Bashir, how is the child? Is he alright? Does he show any signs of... well, anything?"


    It was quite ironic for Yazdegerd to be talking about the reincarnate as a "child," while being a child himself.


    "My Shahanshah, he''s doing good. I feel he''s getting grasp of the writtennguage. He''s always pointing at thing, wanting to know how they''re written."


    Yazdegerd forgot the reincarnate was mute. It was a waste, really. To be born under such divine circumstances, only to not be able to speak. But perhaps your voice was the price you had to pay for divinity.


    "That''s good to hear. Do you think you''ll be able to assist him with any positions I may or may not bestow upon him?"


    This was the type of questions that you don''t refuse. So it was more of an order ced like a question. Everyone knew what Yazdegerd was getting at, but never stated it explicitly.


    "Of course I will be able to. I''ll be d to, my Shahanshah."


    Yazdegerd smiled upon his answer and turned around. Farrukhzad was still there, sitting down, wanting to know what is his purpose in the discussion. Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. Bashir and Farrukhzad were a bit anxious, but Yazdegerd was rxed. He knew who it was.


    "Jalinus,e in."


    Jalinus entered, also with a steel expression. He then knelt down.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    "Stand up."


    Yazdegerd gestured for him to stand up, only for him to sit down a few momentster. Yazdegerd was still standing up when he talked to the three men.


    "Gentlemen, I will be blunt. I need every one of you to assist me in this matter. As you surely know, the only men standing in my way are the greedy clergymen, opposing any attempt at centralizing my power and my country. My empire."


    The men looked at him, fully knowing what he ns.


    "Bashir, please, continue educating the child, teach him to write and toprehend the concept of religion."


    Bashir slightly nodded, without changing his expression.


    "Farrukhzad, write down the names of all clergymen that showed any disobedience against me, together with the temples they serve in."


    Farrukhzad sighed slighty, not knowing what he exactly expected.


    "Lastly, Jalinus, my hazarbed, detach a group of pushtigban, my guards, and have them guard the reincarnate. He may be targeted."


    Jalinus knelt down with a nod. The room fell silent after that. So silent one would say you could hear heartbeat of others. They all then left, only Yazdegerd remaining. It was a strange rtionship they had. Something between vassals andrades. He couldn''t quitee up with a suitable word. The wine was left untouched, so he might as well drink it all. It was noing back now. He said that before, but he only truly felt it now.

 Chapter 40: The worries of unknown

    <h4>Chapter 40: The worries of unknown</h4>


    Rostam was enjoying his time off in a secluded part of the pce, that was assigned for him. Around him, maids served fruits, dairy, such as cheese or milk itself, and wine. He watched them always run off, only to bring something good to eat. Although this scene looked as if it was from the heaven itself, it was only Rostam''s body that enjoyed peace and quiet. Rostam''s mind couldn''t rx, thinking about the future. He was quite famous in the Empire even before, but now that he returned home as a victor,mon folk cherished him, young boys admired him and other people of higher standing respected him. Yet he couldn''t rx. He was thinking. What now? What will happen now? Will his Shahanshah start a full-out war against Arabs? And if so, can the country handle it? After all, Persian Empire has seen better days than now and waging a full-out war was very risky in this state. No one could tell who would attack Persia, if they concentrated their power on the Arabs only. They had to leave hefty garrisons in the north against the turkic tribes. Leaving the borders undefended or with poor garrison could end horribly for Persia. But what then? Although the reports said that Arabs have turned their attention towards the Romans, is that really it? Can they trust it? Rostam had no idea, and that was why he agonized so much over it. The fear of unknown, fear of not knowing something was the greatest fear a human could ever experience. Speaking realistically, Persia should use the time Arabs gave them to build up as fast as possible, waiting for the Arabs toe to them, not to go out to meet them. That was Rostam''s ideal n. The question was what will his Shahanshah decide on. Only time would tell, and so Rostam had only one option. To believe in his Shahanshah.


    ---


    "General Khalid, I bring a message from our contact in Persia."


    Khalid ibn al-Walid was currentlymanding his army and was nning to attack the Romans in Syria, when he received the letter from a messenger. It was from Endarghar, and judging by how quick the delivery was, the news weren''t good. And he was right.


    "So the rebellion failed, huh? It seems that Persians can only win if they fight against themselves." he said jokingly and grinned. Endarghar was supported by The Caliphate to ignite a spark of rebellion against the Sassanian order that held the Empire united. Were the Sassanid''s defeated, the Empire would crumble into smaller states, that could be easily absorbed into The Caliphate. But since this tactic didn''t work, they had to rely on the good old method. Complete conquest. It would be costly, but should the things go the same way they went before, they shall surely seed. But he didn''t have the time to think about conquest of Persia right now, as his main concern was the reported massive Roman army gathering near his location. He thought hard about this. Romans are no Persians when ites to battle, so he couldn''t use the same tactics he used on Persians. He had toe up with something new, some new tactic, new strategy. Basically anything that would help him winning the battle that was inevitably unfolding.


    ---


    Abu Bakr was lying in his bed, being taken care of by his servants. He recently started to feel more tired and much weaker than before. Perhaps it was his age getting the best of him. Whatever it was, it was weakening him to a point where he could no longer work as a Caliph to his fullest, so most of the function was now overtaken by Umar, who acted as a temporary Caliph, until Abu Bakr would recover. As one of the servants handed Abu Bakr some medicine, he was thinking about the consequences that would surely ur, were he to, hypothetically, die. He was an old man and thinking about him dying didn''t matter to him. He already epted the fact that it would oncee and take him. But was he to die, what would happen? What would happen to the Caliphate, and Im as a whole? There wasn''t anyone strong enough to take over with a majority support. They would have to first hold elections, with people having the best chances being Umar and Usama ibn Zayd. That would cause a confusion, mainly for the Arab army currently in Syria, as it would take some time before the news will reach them. And even then, until the elections are over, who would they take orders from? And would they have to stop their campaign until the elections are over, or will there be some provisionalmander until a new Caliph is appointed? The more he thought about it the more he felt tired. His eyes started to slowly close, his heartbeat fell more silent and slower with each of his breath, until his body and mind wandered into a never-ending sleep, never to wake up again. He fell silent so quickly, that he didn''t even register Umar grinning devilishly at him from the doorway of his room.


    Young Usama ibn Zayd heard some ruckus from above, where his uncle''s, Abu Bakr''s chambers were. And he didn''t like it. He felt like he was being watchedtely, which made him only more cautious in the pce. He tried to not be alone, and he also begged his uncle for bodyguards. Well, Abu Bakr wasn''t his biological uncle, but the rtionship those two had wasparable to that of a nephew and uncle. He got out of his bed after hearing whispers and quiet steps outside of his door. He quietly packed some basic things, such as a water sk and some food while he was at it, and exited his room. He had a basic overview of the situation. They were after him. His uncle was most likely dead and he was the next in line. He had to run. It seemed as if they didn''t want to kill him so quickly after Abu Bakr''s death. Perhaps they would be able to fake his murder as a suicide from the loss of a loved one. Perhaps. He ran down the corridor from his room, meaning to pass through a not often visited part of theplex. It looked like no one was pursuing him. He left the pce into the city in the dead of the night. He basically exiled himself. But it was better than to die there, by the hand of Umar. But what was he supposed to do now? Seek allies, perhaps? But who? Someone came to Usama''s mind. It would be risky to ask for his support, but were he to get the support, his victory over Umar would be inevitable. And so, with not much money in his pockets, but with n and vigor, he set off in the direction of Ctesiphon.

 Chapter 41: To act like adult

    <h4>Chapter 41: To act like adult</h4>


    "My Shahanshah, this is it."


    Farrukhzad showed Yazdegerd a list full of names and next to them ording temples they serve in. It was a long list of at least hundred names, maybe even more. No wonder it took over a week to make this list. Yazdegerd was browsing through the list, feeling more tired and irritated with each letter he read, until he had enough and returned the list to Farrukhzad. Farrukhzad looked at him, confused.


    "It''s too much for me. Just tell me what you think is most important from that list." said Yazdegerd as he was massaging his temples. Farrukhzad frowned at him, not with disgust or spite, but with pity.


    "As you wish, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. As you most likely know, the crimes these peoplemitted differ from person to person. While somemitted only small crimes, such as tax evasion or mary extortion, the ones we should focus on are those that have their hands in much bigger crimes. For example those that still support the changed reforms of Khosrow I. that benefited them. Or those that n to defy you and your divine right to rule."


    While Farrukhzad didn''t mean to say that tax evasion or extortion aren''t serious crimes, in the situation they were in, it would be better for them to focus on the most serious criminals. To focus on the lesser threat meant to let the bigger threat be even bigger. If they dealt with the most problematic and threatening people first, they''ll have much more resources and time to deal with the low-threatening individuals. Plus, how exactly is one or two tax evasions going to hurt them?


    Farrukhzad mainly wanted to relieve Yazdegerd of some stress. It was clear to him that the kid isn''t coping as much as he wants it to look like. And while Yazdegerd certainly showed capabilities much greater than those of amon ten-year-old, his mental health took too much of a toll from this stressful work.


    "My Shahanshah, I can take it from here. You should rest a bit, my Shahanshah. I heard you barely sleptst night."


    Yazdegerd looked up at him with painful expression, his eyes saying clearly that he''s in pain. Most likely a headache.


    "No. I have started it. I must see it till end. I can''t just throw the responsibility on you."


    These were the times Farrukhzad would rather for him to not to act like an adult. But he had nothing to argue with. His offer was rejected, and he couldn''t possibly argue back against his own liege.


    "As you wish, my Shahanshah."


    Farrukhzad then listed the names of most dangerous individuals and proposed a few ns to get rid of them. But Yazdegerd was too upied with massaging his temples to listen to him. Farrukhzad of course noticed that.


    "Should I call for some water, my Shahanshah?"


    Yazdegerd looked up on him and smiled. For some reason, Farrukhzad found this smile cute. As if it was his own son smiling on him, not his very liege.


    "Please do. And thank you."


    Farrukhzad just smiled back at him, then stood up and exited the room in search of a servant. Yazdegerd was then left alone in the room, still massaging his temples. He couldn''t sleepst night, thinking about all the possibilities, about everything that could and can go wrong. That his n will fail, and not only the clergy, but also some not-so-loyal noblemen will rise up against him. He didn''t know whether he could handle another rebellion, especially in his current condition. He felt ill, he had unbearable headache and he felt as if he could die every moment. Even breathing hurt. But how could he just go and say he doesn''t feel good? Everybody had too big expectations of him for him to be able to just dance out of any problem just because he felt ill. He just had to hold it, at least until the ns are ready to be executed. He''ll get used to it in time, anyway, so it shouldn''t be wrong to try and bear it a little longer. Right?


    Farrukhzad returned back with a servant right behind him. The servant brought two jugs, supposedly filled with water, and two cups. He then put one cup in front of Yazdegerd, filled it with water and bowed. Yazdegerd grabbed the cup instantly and drank all of its contents. It wasn''t like water was going to wash the pain away instantly, but it was better than nothing. Farrukhzad dismissed the servant and sat opposite of Yazdegerd. He looked at him with a caring, worrying look. Yazdegerd raised his head and looked Farrukhzad in the eyes.


    "Can we continue?" asked Yazdegerd. He asked in a quiet tone, yet Farrukhzad understood every word.


    Farrukhzad seemed to be a bit perplexed by this question. He was sure Yazdegerd would want to take a break. But he didn''t object.


    "Of course, my Shahanshah." answered Farrukhzad, with a warm, yet a bit disappointed tone apanied with a sigh.


    They discussed their initial targets and who should they focus on first. After a while, they both agreed on a certain Magi operating in central Persia. Yazdegerd looked much better after he drank the water, but it was still clear he should lie down and rest for a bit ¨C even he himself understood so much. And although he didn''t want to at first, he eventually, although reluctantly, let Farrukhzad and Jalinus handle the rest of the nning. He''ll be there to finalize the n and to have the final word, of course, but for now, he decided to rest a bit. It still was a bit too much for him to bear. He still wasn''t able to get used to that stress, that pressure, no matter how much he wanted to. There was a reason as to why he couldn''t work under pressure, like any adult could. After all, he still was a child, child wearing masks, supressing his own childishness, trying to be an adult. And that was what irritated him the most. He himself.

 Chapter 42: The battle that never happened

    <h4>Chapter 42: The battle that never happened</h4>


    Khalid was observing the Roman army in front of him, on the other side of the valley. It looked like Romans didn''t want to stop them until they became a threat, and that''s why they stood up against them fairly ind, hundred kilometres from the Holy city of Jerusalem, near a river called Yarmuk. They waited for him on one side of the valley, meaning to bring the fight down, making great use of their heavy cataphracts. Arabs were seemingly in a disadvantage in this one, but Khalid was sure that he''ll be able to make it through. The numbers were roughly same, with Romans having a few thousand more. But Khalid didn''t want that to offset him. He was confident he would win. He did so against Persians more than once, so why shouldn''t he do the same against Romans?


    He observed the enemy intensely, watching their every move. He followed a figure that looked like an enemy general. He looked at him, trying to make something out of the way he moved and his facial expression. Then, suddenly, the figure he was observing turned in his direction. It felt like he was staring at him, eye to eye. No one bucked. They stared at each other from the distance, not being really sure who are they looking at. After a few minutes, the enemy general turned around and continued to walk somewhere behind the horizon. Khalid was sweating from this exchange. It was such a powerful moment that he felt like he can''t be the one who breaks the eye contact. He suddenly felt much less confident. His enemy looked like he might be tougher than it seemed.


    After making the needed preparations, they were basically ready for the battle. The night was falling, but fires were illuminating the camp. Guards were taking turns, watching over the valley through the night. Khalid was looking at the sky while thinking about the "battle" he had today with the enemy general. At least he thought it was a general. He was thinking whether he''ll be able to win the uing battle. He should. But nothing was set in stone. For some reason, he feared he''ll lose. It was just a though, a feeling, but it still scared him. He couldn''t even imagine what would happen, were he to lose. If he lost, he would disappoint not only his Caliph and friend, Abu Bakr, but also his God and all Muslims. It was then when he realized how fragile this whole n, this whole campaign was. Were he to lose but a single significant battle, they would be lost and the dream of spreading Im far and wide would be gone, forever. He shuddered at the thought, that felt as if it was so unreal, but so probable. So... reachable.


    Early in the morning, when it seemed that, since no one moved yet, the battle will begin soon, a messenger arrived, bringing a message. Khalid had bad feeling from it. He epted the letter, which was sealed with the Caliph''s seal. The first thing he found strange was that the seal was different from the Abu Bakr''s one. Only a bit, but still was. He opened the letter and read it. His facial expression changed drastically, into that of a terror. He was frightened at first, but soon, he became more sad than frightened. Abu Bakr was dead. That stood clearly in the letter. And since one of the contenders for the Caliph''s position, Usama ibn Zayd, was nowhere to be found, Umar automatically overtook the position of Caliph of Arabia. Supposedly, Abu Bakr died of natural causes. At least that was what was written in the letter Khalid read. He was old, true, and he was also sick. But was that enough to let him sumb? Maybe. But Khalid was very paranoid about this. With the message of Abu Bakr''s death, an order was also written in the letter. The order was to immediately retreat from the Romannd, and to instead focus on Persians without even engaging Roman army. Perhaps Umar didn''t want to divide their attention, especially when they stood against big and mighty empires. And with the news of Roman-Persian alliance, concluded by a marriage of Persian Shahanshah and Roman princess, they should focus only on one enemy at the time with always being able to retreat back into the desert, where the enemy armies wouldn''t follow them. But if Khalid were to not engage Romans at all, he had to stop this battle from happening. And even if, the news of Abu Bakr dying would surely spread among the soldiers, weakening their morale by arge amount. After these crushing news, neither Khalid, nor his army was in the state to fight. So he had negotiate with the Romans. The letter was signed: "Sincerely, Caliph of Arabia, Umar ibn al-Khattab, 26th of March, 634." For some reason, Khalid thought of how well the role of Caliph suits Umar.


    Jabh was observing the Arabian camp. It was nearly noon, yet Arabs didn''t move, even a bit. A while ago, scouts reported somemotion in the Arab camp, so perhaps that had something to do with how passive they were. He thought back to when he looked the Arab general into the eyes previous day. It was a strange experience. He was sure that the man he was looking on was Khalid ibn al-Walid, the Arab general and supposed genius tactician that defeat several times superior Persian armies. Part of him wanted to measure strength with him, but part of him felt that he''s a real threat that shouldn''t be taking lightly. He got some intel on him from Persians, but the actual, real-life experience was much better to judge and analyse.


    Jabh then noticed a lone rider, riding from the Arabian camp. He looked like a messenger. Most likely. He watched him ride in their direction, until he stopped under the makeshift barricades. He didn''t hear the conversation, but he was eventually called on the barricades by the soldier that talked with the Arab messenger. So he went through the camp, until he arrived on the barricades. Under him, a man, lightly clothed, sat on a horse, looking up at him.


    "I am King Jabh ibn al-Aiham. I presume you have a message for me from your general, right?"


    "Yes, your Majesty. I bring a message from our general, great Khalid ibn al-Walid."


    The messenger spoke in fairly fluent Greek, which surprised Jabh a bit. The messenger may have spoken more fluent Greek than Jabh himself.


    "Our general wants to negotiate on truce. He wants to avoid the bloodshed that will surely ur. He promises to withdraw the army from Romannds, in exchange for promise of immunity and that you''ll not pursue our army."


    Jabh was at the loss of words. Was this a trap? He didn''t believe so. He deemed Khalid to be fearsome, but honourable foe. He didn''t think he''ll be someone who''ll break his word. But wasn''t this a great opportunity? If the Arabs wanted to retreat, then that meant they weren''t ready to fight. Most likely. But if so, it would be beneficial to attack them, when they were weak. But Jabhcked the resolve to conduct such a risk. And this option to avoid bloodshed but secure the Romannds was most likely his safest bet. And so, he went with that.


    "I ept your conditions. We shall not pursue your withdrawal."


    "Thank you, your Majesty. I shall inform our general and we shall withdraw immediately."


    The messenger bowed in the saddle and rode off. Jabh then instructed a group of scouts to follow the Arab army until they leave Roman territory. He then went away to write the report. The battle of Yarmuk, that was meant to take ce today, never did.

 Chapter 43: To discuss and to decieve

    <h4>Chapter 43: To discuss and to decieve</h4>


    "My Shahanshah, I bring the reports on the n''s progression."


    Yazdegerd immediately understood his meaning. He started paying much more attention.


    "The most dangerous individuals have been dealt with. Some took our "friendly" advice to heart, while some needed to be persuaded a bit more."


    Yazdegerd frowned on Farrukhzad. He didn''t like the way Farrukhzad was telling him that. It sounded like they were some bandit gang plotting local lord''s demise. Not like a respected Persian Shahanshah and his trusted wuzurg framadar.


    "Farrukhzad, my wuzurg framadar, while I appreciate you bringing me this message personally, I believe I have told you many times to not speak like amon rogue, but as someone befitting your position. What are we doing is just and necessary, so there''s no need to be so cautious about saying it out loud. Especially here."


    Farrukhzad smirked a bit. He enjoyed speaking in such a "yful" way. But if his liege wished for him to stop it, he really had no other choice.


    "I shall be cautious next time, my Shahanshah."


    Yazdegerd frowned again. It wasn''t as if he trusted Farrukhzad in this matter, he just didn''t have the energy to continue pursuing such a childish issue, so he merely nodded.


    "What about the others? The less troublesome ones?"


    "While we already dealt with a few of them, the rest has to wait a bit. There is much more of the less troublesome ones, obviously."


    "And when do you think our reincarnate can overtake the position as the religious leader?"


    "In a month or two I believe, my Shahanshah."


    "Great. As always, you impress me, my wuzurg framadar."


    "Thank you, my Shahanshah."


    To be fair, Farrukhzad thought the exact opposite. He was d his Shahanshah praised him, but if there was anyone impressive here, it was exactly his Shahanshah. In his eyes, at least. This child just ordered, had and then handled the reports of murder. And not just one, but several of them. And all of this without batting an eye. Was he a bloodthirsty monster? Perhaps. For his true colours had yet to be shown. But for now, Farrukhzad could tell that if he was, well, wasn''t something, then he wasn''t stupid. It looked like Yazdegerd knew exactly what he wanted to achieve and he paved his way to that goal. Farrukhzad couldn''t be impressed enough. Suddenly, there was another voice that came from behind the door. The same door Farrukhzad used to enter the room.


    "My Shahanshah, may I have a moment?"


    It was Rostam. Farrukhzad could recognize the voice of his own brother anywhere. Well, mostly. Yazdegerd also seemed to know who was behind the door.


    "Of course, my spahbed. You may enter. On that note, Farrukhzad, you may leave."


    Farrukhzad was a bit saddened that his Shahanshah didn''t want him on a meeting with his own brother, but it wasn''t like he could do anything about it. Even if he could, he had work to do. So he bowed and left. In the doorway, when his brother was entering, he nodded as a form of greeting. When he left, Rostam bowed, as always, and Yazdegerd gestured for him to sit down. He had a feeling this may take a while. They both sat down, looking at each other. Yazdegerd had frankly no idea why Rostam wanted to talk with him. He really didn''t know. Well, truth to be told, he had a few ideas, but nothing concrete. And so, he waited for Rostam to begin.


    "My Shahanshah, it''s about the army..."


    Yazdegerd suddenly became more alert. The army was the key to his n, so he had to listen carefully about any information on it, be it negative or positive. But what could be wrong? Manpower? That shouldn''t be a problem, although he did lose a lot of men during the war. But it has to be said that Persia wasn''t at its full strength when fighting Arabs. But still, now that Yazdegerd''s authority actually reaches the whole Empire, the manpower shouldn''t be the issue. So perhaps morale was the problem? It''s true that soldiers, hearing stories from survivors or just listening to themon gossip could fear that their leadership is sending them into a bloodbath.


    "What is wrong with the army, my spahbed?"


    "I''m sure you are already aware, but most of our highmand got killed in the war. Only few are left, including me, Bahman Jaduya and Andarzaghar. And while I don''t want to insult my dear friend, you surely know how he... botched the battle with Muslims. A member of highmand shouldn''t be that impatient."


    Yazdegerd looked at Rostam with interest. He still wasn''t sure what exactly is Rostam getting at, so he continued listening.


    "Yes, that is true. He shouldn''t. But I''m sure you didn''te to talk to me about such trivialities?"


    "Of course, my Shahanshah. With the low number of skilledmanders, can I get your permission to recruit a new one? I already have someone in mind, I''d just need your blessing, my Shahanshah."


    Yazdegerd was surprised a bit. The usual calm and iron-willed Rostam was suddenly almost begging him just so he can recruit a newmander. Did he perhaps have change of heart? No, that wasn''t it and Yazdegerd was aware of that. That "someone" Rostam already had in mind would almost certainly serve just as Rostam''s puppet in any endeavor of his. And if that person would aplish some military achievements, his power as a puppet would only increase. And who knows what Rostam nned after the Arab threat has diminished?


    "So, are you telling me you need a newmander to join your ranks because of the war?"


    "Yes, that''s the gist of it, my Shahanshah. So, what do you think?"


    "You may have Jalinus."


    Rostam looked very perplexed at his Shahanshah''s response. He didn''t understand what his Shahanshah meant.


    "My Shahanshah, I don''t understand..."


    "It''s exactly what it means. I said that I will give you Jalinus. He is skilled enough, and I am sure he can exercise both his position of hazarbed and his position ofmander simultaneously."


    "My Shahanshah, I don''t mean to sound rude, but I don''t think Jalinus is the best candidate. He can''t be trusted. He''s not even of our religion!"


    "My Rostam, this isn''t about who YOU trust, but about who I trust. And I say Jalinus is more trustworthy than anyone you have on your mind. And now go, I do not wish to continue this pointless talk anymore."


    Rostam frowned while facing floor so Yazdegerd couldn''t see him. And although he didn''t see him, he knew exactly what he was doing. It was understandable and Yazdegerd wasn''t bothered by it not a bit.


    "I''ll send Jalinus to you in a while. You may go now."


    "Yes, my Shahanshah."

 Chapter 44: The boundary between life and death

    <h4>Chapter 44: The boundary between life and death</h4>


    Once Rostam left, Yazdegerd was, once again, left alone. He got used to being alone already. He stayed for a while, trying to reorganize his mind. Lately, his mind often wandered off into the not fully explored boundaries of his mind. While he wanted to concentrate on the religious issue at hand till it''s full solution, he often caught himself thinking about irrelevant things. Lately, he''s been thinking about his soon-to-be Shahanshahbanu, the Byzantine princess Roxane. He never saw her, yet his brain imagined her rough appearance based on the description King Jabh gave him. And he was thinking about her. Perhaps he was interested? Perhaps he just was intrigued by how she''ll look like? Or if they''ll actually see each other eye to eye. He wasn''t sure why exactly he sometimes thought about her. Not like it mattered to him, not at the moment at least. In the future - perhaps.


    He decided to go for a walk in order to clear his head. Although he couldn''t go farther than the pce court without a proper guard, it didn''t bother him. Pce courtyard wasparable to a market. There were a lot of people, both poor and rich and as long as you had a good enough reason, status or money, you would be probably let in. Probably. And so, Yazdegerd went on a stroll around the pce, it''s gardens and courtyard. He put on his formal crown, that wasn''t as heavy and ufortable as the ceremonial one, basically a lite version of it, and left the room. He walked down the corridor, before finally arriving into a big hall that was meant for ceremonies and other social events. From there, it was only a short corridor further. Then he walked to a big door, which guards standing on duty opened for him while greeting him with the formal "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal." Yazdegerd just smiled and went through the door, only to hear them slowly closing behind him. Security was tight in the pce, surely thanks to Jalinus, as Yazdegerd could see a lot of soldiers in the courtyard. But apart from the soldiers, a lot of court members or servants also had their business in the court. It was a long time since Yazdegerd visited any ce whererger number of people gathered. As soon as he came close to anyone, close enough for them to recognize who they''re dealing with, he was met with the usual "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal." It''s not like he wanted to talk with anyone, so often just smiled and waved them off, but since he was without any military escort, people assumed they were free to talk to him, and immediately used it. Most of them were of lesser nobility or richer merchants, so they wanted to take and hold any opportunity they would get at social promotion. And although Yazdegerd''s engagement with Byzantine princess was made official, people like these were still offering him their daughters, nieces, sisters, granddaughters and god knows who else to take as a concubine. While having multiple wives or concubines wasn''t abnormal at the time, especially not for those of higher standing, but Yazdegerd wasn''t sure what to make of it. He wasn''t even married yet, but he was already being offered countless of girls as a concubines or other wives. He already talked about this with Farrukhzad and Rostam. Neither of them had concubines or other wives, but that was apparently mainly due to their social status. What Yazdegerd thought of that was that their level of nobility wasn''t high enough for people to be so desperate to offer their family members as concubines, but if they were of higher standing, they''d dly ept. In this matter, he agreed with Jalinus more. Jalinus, being Christian, was against polygamy and himself wanted to have a monogamic rtionship. But then again, Yazdegerd simplycked any experience to actually decide. Maybe once he''ll actually be with a woman, perhaps than he''ll be able to decide.


    He never knew what to think of the people offering him their daughters, sisters and such as concubines. He wasn''t so na?ve as to think they liked him as a ruler and were showing their appreciation this way. It was clear they did it only for political purposes. But perhaps they, at least some of them, tried it as a way to secure the girls a better life. Perhaps. Nothing was ck and white, but Yazdegerd thought that the world would be much easier toprehend if it was. But if the world was ck and white, what would happen to the other colours? Suddenly, the idea of a world, where good and evil is easily distinguishable seemed so scary.


    He left the courtyard after a while of unwillingly chatting with the courtiers. He headed towards the pce gardens,rge, even enormousplex of greenery used by everyone in the pce that had the permission. Those people included him, Rostam, Farrukhzad, Jalinus, Bahman, Andarzaghr, and,tely, Bashir with the boy. One would think if so many people were using it, it had to be noisy. But that is far from truth. Firstly, they would have all go into the gardens to leisure at the same time, which was highly unlikely. And even if, the gardens were so big they wouldn''t even notice anyone was there with them. Yes, they wouldn''t. Yazdegerd entered the gardens, quietly, as if trying to stalk someone. He headed towards the centre, where he had a favourite ce he visited when feeling like taking a breather. He went further and further in, heading towards that favourite ce of his. Then, suddenly, from behind a tree, he noticed a person. Fully covered in ck, the person was standing there with his back to Yazdegerd, doing something with his hands. Yazdegerd got scared. He didn''t recognize the person, and he didn''t think that would change were the person to turn around. Yazdegerd was also sceptic about the idea that the person could be a servant, since no servant in the pce he knew of wore such ck clothing, neither should any servant have a quiver attached to his back. No, that wasn''t anyone from the pce, nor was that anyone Yazdegerd should be staying close to. Since the pce was unsupervised for a long time before Yazdegerd "returned," the gardens weren''t taken care of also for a long time. And they didn''t have enough time to cut everything down, so the centre was still a bit overgrown. That was why Yazdegerd liked it, due to it''s inessibility. But it looked like someone else shared his tastes. Yazdegerd decided to back off and report the person to Jalinus. But once he took a step back, the person turned around, looking right on Yazdegerd. That revealed the arrow he had in his hand, covering it with some fluid. Presumably poison. The other arrows were almost certainly covered in the same fluid, and so was the dagger at his belt. Yazdegerd became visibly scared and began to run away. At the same time, the person pulled out a bow, put the arrow in the chord, pulled back, and fired. He missed, thank god. Yazdegerd perfectly understood the situation, but it still felt surreal. That man was almost certainly sent to kill him. But how did he recognize him? The answer soon struck Yazdegerd. Right now, he really regretted wearing that formal crown. As he was running, the person fired another arrow, missing again. Possibly thinking this is his great chance, he started chasing Yazdegerd across the garden. He clearly knew it here, since he was following Yazdegerd with ease, even closing the distance with him. Yazdegerd didn''t know what to do, and, maybe due to the direness of the situation, only one thing he could do came to his mind. Scream for help.


    "HELP! ASSASSIN! YOUR SHAHANSHAH IS BEING ASSAULTED! IT''S AN ASSASSIN!"


    Although he had a sabre with him, Yazdegerd was never taught in any advanced swordsmanship, and he wasn''t confident he could take a professionally trained assassin. And so he ran and ran, sometimes an arrow flew dangerously close by him. But eventually, still running and screaming his lungs out, he reached the entrance into the pceplex. But no one was waiting for him. Did no one hear his screams? The assassin was quickly closing the distance. Yazdegerd entered theplex and the assassin followed him. That was his mistake. Well, perhaps his mistake was trying to murder Yazdegerd in the first ce. As he followed Yazdegerd into the pce, he ran inside the corridor where his body met the spears of the darigan. He basically ran right into the spear wall, which he didn''t see from behind the door of course. The velocity of his run made it so he impaled himself on the spears of Shahanshah''s bodyguard. Yazdegerd lied further away on the floor with Jalinus kneeling beside him. He heard his voice, apparently, and prepared this trap of sorts, so the murderer would be caught quickly.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, are you alright?"


    Jalinus showed clear signs of worry, but Yazdegerd was too shocked to even answer. He still couldn''t process it. This was the first time anyone ever tried to assassinate him. And that was a lot to swallow. And while Yazdegerd had his own worries and his own trauma to deal with, Jalinus couldn''t help but think. How did the assassin get here, into the pce? They should investigate the gardens. Perhaps he was hiding there for a long time? Since the gardens were not taken care of, the centre was an overgrown mess. It wouldn''t be strange if anyone managed to hide there, even for a month. He wasn''t sure, but of one thing he was sure. That he failed as a hazarbed.

 Chapter 45: The coincidence to change one’s fate

    <h4>Chapter 45: The coincidence to change one''s fate</h4>


    Jalinus and his men went into the garden, guided by Yazdegerd''s directions, and eventually found the ce where Yazdegerd met the assassin. It only took a while of searching in the surrounding bushes to reveal the assassins hideout and several other things. Firstly, he acted alone, most likely on someone''s orders. The hideout was quite humble, hidden from sight in deep in the bushes. The only thing that made Jalinus surprised was the fact that the assassin was hiding here, deep in the gardens for a while. Over a month, at least. In the hideout he had supplies for another month at least. Did that mean that he wasn''t yet ready to strike? Or was that just a precaution? No, that would be an overkill to bring supplies for another month just as a precaution. Why then? Did he really mean to stay here for another long month, perhaps building some kind of spywork? Or perhaps he wanted to continue bribing and gathering information himself? Whatever, he was doomed the moment Yazdegerd saw him, so he really had no other option than to run for him and try to finish what he started. But why was he outside of his hideout when Yazdegerd went into the gardens? Perhaps he hadn''t anticipated anyone venturing this deep into the gardens at that exact time. It was true that Yazdegerd didn''t go there on his regr time. Maybe that was it. The assassin knew that some boy is regrly going into the centre of the gardens, so he was cautious about hiding himself from him. But when that same boy appeared, not on the regr time and with Shahanshah''s formal crown, it was clear to him. He had to be angry at himself for not killing the boy before. Had he known he was Shahanshah, he would''ve ended it much earlier. But thanks to Yazdegerd''sziness of not wanting to wear his crown, he didn''t and Yazdegerd survived. What a strange coincidence.


    ---


    When Khalid arrived back to Hira, he found it exactly as he left it. Deste, empty city popted only with soldiers. Well, perhaps it changed a bit. Some civilians, mainly the poor, were brought into the city. With the promise of a safe home and stable work, it wasn''t hard to persuade them. They settled right in and apparently were ordered to work the fields, in an attempt to create a self-sustainable society here. Also, the local fire-temple was made into a mosque to worship Ah, with priest being brought here to hold daily prayers. So it really has changed. Once empty and deste city was starting to look again like the city it was before. Well, at least Khalid thought so. He never saw Hira before the city was depopted, he only heard the rumours. "The Pearl in the desert," "The gate to Mesopotamia," Hira was known by many names, and Khalid believed all of them. But s, he had no way of actually confirming whether those names were true or not.


    He entered Hira with the army returning from Syria. Although the battle never actually urred, soldiers still were exhausted and demoralized, both from the march through the scorching desert and both from the death of their Caliph, that demoralized both Khalid''s army and the garrison at Hira. Umar''s orders were quite clear. To destroy the Persians, he said. Khalid first needed to give his soldiers their well-earnt rest, to let them regain morale again, and mainly to reinforce and resupply. He looked around the now reviving city. There weren''t many people here, but the progress over the half a year or so is evident. Around a thousand civilians already lived here, which, although very small numberpared to the original poption, was still something. But there was one thing Khalid feared. It was only hypothetical. He himself didn''t believe it. Well, rather he didn''t want to believe it. What if Persians were to, somehow, reupy the city? What would happen to the civilians already living here? And the garrison? What would happen? Khalid wasn''t blinded with hate for Persians like Umar, for example, was. Khalid, in this sense, shared more views with young Usama, who believed that there is more to people than their religion. He only supported Umar over Usama because he believed Umar to be morepetent in ruling a country. But even though he didn''t hate Persians and didn''t believe them to be some brutes that would go and massacre the whole city, he just couldn''t dispose of this option as something that couldn''t happen. It very much could happen. But how? How could it evere to Persians actually somehow reaching and seizing the city? Of course, it could only happen were Khalid defeated on the field of battle. Of course, he didn''t n to be defeated anywhere soon. But again, the responsibility fell on him. For some reason, he suddenly felt his shoulders bing much heavier.


    ---


    "What do you mean? If you can''t find him, then search more! Search the whole damn Arabia if necessary, just find him!"


    Umar was furious. After he took over as Caliph, not many things worked for him. Although he had majority support from the most powerful people, there still wasrge minority supporting Usama, who just disappeared one day. Umar was immediately suspected by Usama''s support group, but Umar himself knew very well that the n to murder Usama wasn''t sessful, because Usama left on his own. Umar didn''t believe Usama to be so stupid and hot-headed to just go off into a desert without any purpose, so he was either hiding in some bigger settlement or was travelling along the main road. But it was already more than a month from his disappearance and Umar had to answer the suspicions soon. He couldn''t just tell them he nned to murder him, but never did, and were he to just deny any suspicions, it would be on them if they believed Umar or not. The best he could do for now was to announce nation-wide search for Usama. That was his best bet. What would happen then was anyone''s guess. But Umar hoped that the conflict with Persians he was preparing for would redirect their attention from him. But if he wanted to actually stay in power, the war had to be a sessful one. But confidence was something Umar wasn''tcking. Not only confidence in Khalid and his soldiers, but also confidence in being the chosen one by his god. But there is a fair difference in being confident and overconfident.

 Chapter 46: Ruler for people, father for family

    <h4>Chapter 46: Ruler for people, father for family</h4>


    Heraclius was going through the reports Jabh sent him. ording to them, he encountered Arabs near a river Yarmouk, but after a few days an Arab messenger arrived, bringing a message from that Arab general. For some reason, Arabs wanted to pack up their things and just leave, and Jabh let them. Heraclius wasn''t mad. He was a bit happy, even, for some reason. But what he couldn''t wrap his head around was the reason Arabs just left. Why would they even do that? Heraclius wasn''t na?ve enough to think they left just because they feared they''ll lose. After all, from all these battles with superior Persian armies, Khalid ibn al-Walid didn''t seem to be some coward. He seemed to be more that confident type. Heraclius thought about this seemingly non-important issue over and over. When everyone was d that there wasn''t any need for battle and didn''t question the matter further, only Heraclius was rocking his head over this one. Suddenly, a voice interrupted him.


    "My Basileus, may I?"


    He recognized his friend Bonus. Whatever Bonus wanted from him, it was a great distraction from the seemingly needless worry he had. Heraclius turned on Bonus from behind his table and stood up.


    "Of course, my dear friend. But let''s go outside, to talk on some fresh air."


    Bonus smiled on Heraclius and nodded a little. Then he followed Heraclius. They left the room which Heraclius used as his office of sorts while in the Constantinople. They went down the corridor, until they reached an intersection. There, they turned right and went towards a great stairway. When they climbed up, they stood on a wall that defended the pce. Under them, to the left were the quiet and calm waters of the Sea of Marmara, while on the left still bustling and thriving City of the World''s desire, lively as always, even at night. They both looked upon the dark sky, in which white moon was shining brightly, reflecting the Sun''s light like a well-polished sabre.


    "Well then, Bonus, what did you want to talk about?" asked Heraclius, leaning on one of the battlements. His smile looked very genuine. Almost too much. Bonus quietly observed thezy waves in the sea, seemingly organizing his thoughts. But the truth was that this view simply blew him away, to the point he forgot what he wanted to say. After a short while, no more than ten seconds, he seemingly remembered.


    "My Basileus, it''s about the princess."


    Heraclius frowned and put his hand on his forehead. His only daughter Roxane was causing him headaches for a while now. He even thought over about his own actions and how he treated her, but couldn''t find the w. Perhaps there really wasn''t one, but perhaps he was just too short-sighed to find one.


    "Again? I feel like she''s much more daring than before. So, what exactly happened?"


    "Well, apparently, her highness, once again, fled from the lecture of Middle Persian. She''s starting to be insolent to her teacher and to your servants and retainers. Yesterday, she even insulted the esteemed ambassador from the Persians. Apparently, she called his Majesty their Shahanshah ''Greedy and ipetent old man.''"


    Heraclius'' eyes widened in terror upon hearing this.


    "SHE WHAT?"


    He was absolutely mortified. How could his cute and pure daughter, his noble and majestic little princess even dare to say something like that? And to an ambassador from their most valuable ally? And howe he wasn''t informed of this before? All these questionscked any real answers, apart from one. He did realize that he arrived back to Constantinople this morning from some travels. That was pretty reasonable then. But what about the other questions? Anger and terror were swirling in him like waves in a stormy sea. Anger at his daughter, for acting so impudent and unfit of her position, and terror what if the Persian ambassador, and eventually Persian Shahanshah take this insult personally. He had to make sure something like that doesn''t happen, to make things right.


    He thanked Bonus before he could finish his report and stormed from the walls back into the pce. Although it was night already, it wasn''t that muchte, so his daughter should be still awake. He half-ran through the pce, not minding any servants along the way. He stormed right into his daughter''s room, suddenly bing aware of his behaviour and his undignified look. Roxane sat in the room at the table, seemingly doing nothing. Upon closer inspection, she just had some notes, presumably from her lectures. She looked on her father, full of surprise. Her expression suddenly and quickly changed, as if bing aware of the reason her father is in her room. She scoffed and looked away from Heraclius, who was starting to be more and more anxious. His anger subsided and a strange, warm feeling filled his body instead. Perhaps it waspassion. He smiled at her, knowing she was looking away and couldn''t see his now genuine smile. But he still had to scold her. If not for running away from the lectures, then at least for insulting his ally''s ambassador.


    "Roxane, I think you know why I came. I won''t punish you for running away from your lessons again. I already epted and came to terms with it. But I can''t let you run around the pce and insult representatives of our most important ally! Why did you even do it?"


    Although Heraclius already half knew the answer, he still asked. At first it looked like Roxane won''t answer, but she started talking after a short moment. Well, more like she mumbled it to herself.


    "I told you, father, I won''t marry that guy! Even if you promised me to him, even if he''s our ally or whatnot! I won''t marry that old man!"


    She was very stubborn for her age; Heraclius gave her that. But one thing he didn''t understand was why was she calling him "old man." He was anything but that. It wasn''t umon to marry a small girl off to an already adult man. Sometimes that man could already be a widower. But this wasn''t the case at all. This was one of the cases, where the engaged couple was only few years apart. Did he not tell her? No, he most definitely did. He thought for a while and came to a possible conclusion. She was keeping in contact with her already married sisters by letters. They may have put some nonsense in her head. But it wasn''t really a surprise she trusted her sisters more than her father. After all, they didn''t force her to marry, her father did. Maybe she''d even trust more some father''s advisor than her father himself.


    "Roxane, my dear, I am sure I already told you, but that man isn''t any "old man." He''s just a few years older than you."


    She turned around and looked at him, her eyes filled with an emotion. Hope, perhaps? But he was sure that wouldn''t convince her otherwise. He suddenly remembered what Persian Shahanshah wrote to him when epting his engagement proposal.


    "If I will not be charmed by her when I meet her, I will consider it that your envoy lied to me. And if that would be the case, have his head cut off."


    He focused mainly on the first part. "If I will not be charmed by her..." Suddenly, he got an idea.


    "Then, Roxane, how about this? You will meet him once, and if you''ll still refuse to marry him, I will call the engagement off."


    Heraclius was well aware that he very well just can''t do that and that she''ll have to marry him even if she won''t like him during their first meeting. But if he wouldn''t have to worry about her until the timees, he''ll be very much relieved.


    "Alright, father."


    Roxane epted with a meek and surrendered voice. She probably saw this as her only way out. So she agreed.

 Chapter 47: The boy of a divine descent

    <h4>Chapter 47: The boy of a divine descent</h4>


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, the ceremony is about to start."


    Some servant was talking to Yazdegerd while kneeling before him. Yazdegerd was well aware of that, so he dismissed the servant with a small wave. He was clothed in a colourful silk robe, his heavy ceremonial crown weighing on his head. He was in the small room in Ctesiphon''s Fire-temple. It was a massive building, nearly as big as Shahanshah''s pce itself. That was understandable, since it was probably the most important Fire-temple in the whole Empire. Of course, much of the temple was funded by the Sassanid royal family. After all, the state and the religion were inseparable in the realm of Sassanids. That is, until now. Now, the religion and state was as divided as never before. In order to rebuild the rtionship between the priests and the warriors. In the olden days, when Sassanids were just a small vassal family of the Parthians, this concept of cooperation between priests and warriors was what helped Sassanids gain their power. Unfortunately, as the Empire grew in its size and power, priests and warriors, who were reced by state overall, were also growing more powerful and their interests ovepped. That caused the separation of priests from warriors. But today was the day Yazdegerd would change that. He would once again unite both priests and warriors under a single figure, single leader. Him. Today would mark the day of the revival of the fallen giant. Today would be the day Derafsh Kaviani would rise from the ashes and serve as a guiding light for all Iranians, both in and outside of the Empire of all Iranians. He put his head high up, while still trying to bnce his crown. He gazed upwards, as if to show his superiority. Full of confidence, he opened the door and, together with few guards marched towards the main hall, where the ceremony was held. Many important and powerful figures from all over the Empire were present, wanting to witness this epic moment. Security was tight, as Yazdegerd was still scared about the recent assassination attempt.


    He walked through the magnificent hall towards huge doors, behind which wasrge ceremonial hall full of esteemed guests waiting for their Shahanshah to start the ceremony. Yazdegerd steadied his crown and his posture. Everything was ready, so Yazdegerd nodded towards the guards that stood in front of those huge and magnificent doors. The guards, all of them members of the darigan, understood the order and slowly, yet steadily, and with a creak, opened the great door. Behind them was a sight to behold. The whole hall was dimly lit by a plethora of Atar''s, or holy fires. They were called by a plethora of names. "Burning and unburning fire." "Visible and invisible fire." It is considered to be visible presence of our Lord and saviour Ahura Mazda. In the hall,rge number of people was seated, even around the pirs. In the centre of it all was an elevated tform, on the tform was altar, where the reincarnate and Bashir stood, both clothed in white ceremonial robes with white cloth hats. Yazdegerd suddenly felt the pressure, as eyes of everyone in the room suddenly were glued to him. He was watched closely by the keen eyes of his subjects, as if being judged and evaluated. Half of them saw him for the first time, so that was to be expected. His darigan surrounded him from all sides, briefly disrupting the evaluating gazes. He suddenly felt very safe and warm, surrounded on all sides by men willing to risk their life for him. But soon, the encirclement loosened a bit and he was once again under watch. His every move, his every expression. And so, he threw all emotions that were swirling in him away, but on an iron expression and went straight towards the altar.


    Bashir was already awaiting him at the altar with some form of paper in his hand. Perhaps notes for the speech? After all, this ceremony was one of its kind. It will most likely never take ce again. Although the days where Sassanid Shahanshahs considered themselves of divine descent were long gone, they were returning at this very day. After the ceremony would be over, Sassanid dynasty would once again rise to a position between mortals and gods. At least in name. And Yazdegerd didn''t believe that there would be other asion for such ceremony. Because that would mean Sassanids once again lost their standing among the divine. And if that were to happen, Yazdegerd was very sceptic whether they''ll recover. Perhaps they would, once again. But that wasn''t for Yazdegerd to worry about. He had the present to worry about, not the future.


    He stepped on the tform and stood in front of Bashir, with the reincarnate sitting on an elevated chair behind the altar. The height difference between Yazdegerd and Bashir was very obvious, even with the crown on Yazdegerd''s head. But he didn''t let that take him aback. He puffed his chest and put his head as high as he could. Even with that, though, he could only reach somewhere to Bashir''s chest. But he didn''t mind. He stood there, proud and mighty, sheer confidence shining from him. Bashir smiled on him and turned around to face the reincarnate. Reincarnate was already official head of religion in the Empire, as nned anyway. Although controlled mostly by Bashir, who was in turn controlled by Yazdegerd, he served as sort of medium between the Ahura Mazda and the mortal world. God of Wisdom bestowed his guidance upon him, and he shared that guidance with his Shahanshah. This "gift" was paid for by his voice ¨C that''s why he''s mute. At least that was how the story was told. In reality, only those outside of Shahanshah''s closest circle believed it. Those in the circle knew that it''s all just made-up bullshit. And although Bashir believed him to be the reincarnate, not even him believed this talk about themunication with Ahura Mazda.


    Reincarnate was supposed to write his guidance onto the paper he was given, thus surpassing the need to talk. Bashir took the paper from him. Now he had two papers in his hands. One with the guidance, and one of unknown content. He then raised his hand to gather attention.


    "Most esteemed and honoured guests of our Shahanshah, may he be immortal. Our lord, God of Wisdom, our creator has spoken through this child once again! He, who was reincarnated with the spirit of Zoroaster, our prophet and servant of our Lord. The message from our Lord is clear and sound! Today, he doesn''t guide our Shahanshah, but instead, he guides us! Us, his servants and loyal retainers! He guides and advises, sending a message about our mistakes. How we were mistaken and how na?ve were we. To even think our most holy, mighty and stalwart Shahanshah, our great and glorius rulers, that they were and are mere humans? No, that couldn''t be! Of course it can''t! And our Lord, Ahura Mazda, Lord of Wisdom reminds us of that. He reminds us of the fact that we threw our symbol, our divine Shahanshah away, and mistakenly thought he might be one of us! Of course he can''t! As our Lord says, our Shahanshah was, is and will be of divine descent! How blind were we!"


    After this "speech" of sorts, Bashir gathered all of the attention upon the young Shahanshah, who still stood there, quiet, listening closely. Bashir knelt down, the Fires around Yazdegerd were set alight, as if Ahura Mazda himself wanted to observe the ceremony. Bashir then started to recite some prayers, mostly to Ahura Mazda. While he was doing that, some priests brough a tub of water in front of Yazdegerd. He washed his hands in the water and started to recite the prayers with Bashir. After a while, everyone in the temple was praying, even the guards. It was a graduation ceremony of sorts, with Yazdegerd graduating from his humanity. Now he officially wasn''t human. What would that mean to him? Would he be exempted from humanws? Would his human emotions disappear? Well, of course they won''t, as this all was just a formality. In reality, he still was normal human. But If he wanted, could he misuse his "divinity?" Perhaps he could. But now, that the divinity of the Sassanid lineage was restored, it was time to act. To start the preparations. To fend off the wolf from the desert.

 Chapter 48: In preparation for war

    <h4>Chapter 48: In preparation for war</h4>


    Khalid was in Hira, trying toe up with a n for the uing campaign against Persians. He received little to no support from the Caliph, Umar, who was still cleaning up the aftermath of his overtake and the disappearance of young Usama ibn Zayd.


    The only thing he was sent were some supplies, but the amount was really pitiful. Also, fewmanders. Abu Ubayd and his two sons, Al-Hakam and Jabr. Abu Ubayd brought with him about a thousand of tribal warriors from his tribe in Arabia. Khalid now, although having more mouths to feed, had an opportunity to get a different insights on certain things he had to decide on alone before. More people meant more heads to think. And Khalid could certainly use that.


    "Gentlemen, we have toe up with some sort of n against the Persians. We are in a very disadvantageous position for attack, since we''ll have to cross the Euphrates. Any ideas from you?"


    It was surely a difficult task, toe up with a tactic that good. The only reasonable solution would be to find a bridge,rge and strong enough to withstand the weight and size of the Arab army. After that, they''ll have to cross the bridge quickly and then quickly prepare for the battle, should one be approaching. This would require intense nning and wless execution, both of which were practically impossible. Another solution would be to find a spot where the river is narrow and cross there. Or find a spot where the river is shallow. And this was the idea proposed by Abu Ubayd.


    "General, I think I might have just the n. I think, instead of crossing the river on some unstable and easily destructible bridge, we''re ought to search for a ce that would allow our army to cross inrge numbers. I am talking about searching for either narrow spots, or shallow ones."


    "That sounds like our best bet." agreed Khalid after a while of thinking. "But we should have some n B, in case things go downhill."


    "I might have just the spot, general." said Abu Ubayd and pointed on a part on the map where Euphrates flowed. "Here, in this spot. This exact spot is so wide but shallow that crossing it with our army should be easy enough. Bu, as you said, if things go downhill, here, downstream, in the vicinity, is a bridge, which should berge enough for our army to cross. But I suggest using this purely as a desperate measure."


    Khalid was impressed by the amount of research Abu Ubayd seemed to have done for the purpose of the campaign. But looks can deceive and achievements can overrate. And so Khalid was hesitant in giving him any major role in the army. But he gave up, since the man himself was rmended by Umar himself. And so, Abu Ubayd was tasked with leading the initial attack on Persians, since he seemed to be knowledgeable about the surroundingnd. Khalid would, in the meantime, rally more support from Umar and try to get reinforcements and supplies as soon as possible.


    ---


    It was hot. Very hot. A lone man crossed the Arabian desert into the Mesopotamian farnds. He wore a turban and was obviously a muslim. Looking up on the sky, he guessed it was around three hours after noon. It was Usama ibn Zayd, the man who fled from Arabia, his homnd in order to ally with a foreign power. No one was aware of his whereabouts, but he knew they were searching for him on every step. Posters were put up in bigger cities and town criers were alerting the poption. He was a wanted man. Not wanted for any crimes though. At least not officially.


    Because he didn''t align with themon sentiment in the ruling ss of the Caliphate, he fled to join the Persians. He knew that, in order to make his religion not be known as the warmongering, bloodthirsty and cruel one, but instead kind, peaceful and forgiving one, as their God wanted it, he had to stand against the warmongering of his friends and elders in the Caliphate. He thought about it numerous times. Perhaps he was too selfish, for wanting Im to be ording to his beliefs. But if trying to prove your ideals was selfishness, then be it so!


    He meant to do what he believed was right. In this case, denying Arabia her foreseen greatness. But was it really so? Was trying to stop needless bloodshed really denying greatness? Zoroastrians also didn''t spread their religion by force and by war, yet still millions worship fire daily. If Im had only chance of spreading by force, what did it say about the religion itself? What was religion, if it''s only believers were following it only out of fear? They said Im and Ah is greater than worshipping fire, but were they to spread Im by force, they would only prove how superficial and shallow their religion is.


    "No, that can''t be right." shouted Usama, as if in denial of what he was just thinking. "I will prove that Im has it''s own charms, and that it can spread by other means that just war."


    With that goal in mind, he set off into the desert, seemingly without a n. But what he had in his mind was the biggest scheme he''d ever construct. He went through the desert into Mesopotamia, immediately joining the trade route that went from Basra through Hira and then far off into the westernnds. He knew little of what lies in the west, he only knew of the vast Empire of Romans, that spread along the Mediterranean sea, from Egypt to Greece. He wanted to visit the "City of the world''s desire" at least once.


    He headed towards Hira, with some kind of n in mind. He didn''t construct it fully, not yet. But he had the rough idea. Since Umar kept Usama''s disappearance hidden from the rest of the country, very few knew of it. And it was highly unlikely that he would sent letter to Khalid only to inform him of it. Usama wanted to gain any sort of information about the Arab ns of attack, so the Persian Shahanshah would ept him more likely. With that goal in mind, he continued his road under the scorching sun of Mesopotamia.

 Chapter 49: To be worthy enough

    <h4>Chapter 49: To be worthy enough</h4>


    "Wow, they sure are magnificent. And huge. Very huge."


    "Well, that is the normal impression this graceful animals give everybody, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. Have you never seen one before?"


    "I did not, Rostam. I spent most of my childhood either in jail or on throne. And I n to continue with it for several decades at least."


    Rostam suddenly felt like pitying the young king. But he didn''t do it. Instead, he yet again began observing the magnificent war-elephants, as they slowly yet steadily marched through the main street of the city. The street wasrge enough for them to easily go through, as tens of them marched through the city in a column. The Empire of all Iranians woke up from it''s deep slumber as the war beast rose up and started fully preparing for war. Now, fully united and ready to fight off the foe that was threatening not only their country and religion, but also their sense of nationality. The war elephants were brought all the way from thends along the Indus river, trained specifically for this task.


    "Rostam, I feel like I am going to ask very stupid question, but how do they even fight? Do they crush enemies under their feet? Or do they swing their trunk around, dealing damage? Or do they perhaps use their tusks? I''m afraid I can but also can''t fully imagine how they would do in a battle."


    Smile formed on Rostam''s face when he heard that. It reminded him of what a child the Emperor still is.


    "My Shahanshah, the elephant''s main role is to scare the enemy horses with their smell and sounds they produce. Not only horses, of course. Elephants instil terror and fear in everyone who faces them. It is a tactic used for centuries at least. When they get in a fight, brute strength bes their main tactic, mainly against helpless infantry. Of course, they stomp on them, sometimes even use their trunk to throw them away, but I don''t think their tusks could be used inbat, at least not by them. Anyway, there is also this. Do you see them?" he pointed at people sitting in arge saddle on the top of one of the elephants. "They not only control the elephant, but also fight from the saddle. Mainly by ranged weapons, of course, such as javelins and bows, perhaps even with slingshot. I even heard of nations using very long spears from the top of the elephants, but I don''t think that that would be much effective."


    Yazdegerd listened in awe, and then observed the elephants even closely. He saw the people on top of the elephants were partially naked, with a shade darker skin than the usual Persian citizen. But they seemed to know what they were doing, as they were maneuvering the elephants around the city with ease.


    "They''re not Iranian, are they?" Yazdegerd asked suddenly. "The riders, I mean."


    Rostam looked above on the riders, then back on Yazdegerd.


    "No, my Shahanshah. They are from Hindustan, a region near Indus. They are the ones that tamed the elephants, so they know them the best. Our people aren''t very familiar with these animals, so we leave it to natives."


    Yazdegerd looked like he was deep in thought, thinking about something unknown to Rostam. Then he raised his head and turned around.


    "Well then, let''s go. We have a lot to take care about."


    "As you wish, my Shahanshah."


    They walked away from the main street through a smaller one, apanied by few members of pushtigban. As they walked through, Yazdegerd took the cloth that was part of his formal crown and hid his face with it. As they walked through the street, people that had the luck to see their Shahanshah in flesh knelt and kissed the ground in front of him. He kept going. At the end of the street, where there was an intersection, a chariot with several horses were waiting. As they came closer, charioteer opened the door, for his Shahanshah and Empire''s spahbed. Both Yazdegerd and Rostam entered, with Rostam raising his hand, as if to give thanks. The members of pushtigban that apanied them mounted the horses around the chariot. Charioteer took control of the horses pulling the chariot, and slowly began to move. The mounted pushtigban members followed them in a close circle. They rode for a while, in silence, until Rostam started talking.


    "My Shahanshah, I think your twelfth birthday ising up, isn''t it? Do you n anything?"


    Yazdegerd looked on Rostam in shock. He never thought that THAT Rostam would remember his birthday. He felt a bit happy about it. But if he was honest, he didn''t think about it at all.


    "I don''t, my dear spahbed. I didn''t even realize my birthday is so close." said Yazdegerd, as he removed the cloth hiding his face, since he didn''t even notice he still has it on.


    "My Shahanshah, don''t you think you should enjoy yourself a bit more? All the hard work you did through thesest years paid off. Your Empire is in great shape, at least much greater than it was under the rule of your aunt. I think you should get a day or two off, perhaps even throw a birthday party of sorts."


    Rostam himself wasn''t sure why exactly was he rmending this. Maybe he wanted his Shahanshah to enjoy birthday parties as children his age and status do.


    "Please, don''t drag my deceased aunt into this. She didn''t even have a chance to do anything before she was murdered. And, to address your question, no, I don''t think I should enjoy myself a bit more. At least not until the Arab threat is driven away. Until then, I have no room for even thinking about throwing some ''birthday parties.''"


    "So you n something after defeating the Arabs, my Shahanshah?"


    "I wouldn''t say I n to, but I have thought doing something."


    "Can you be a bit more precise, my Shahanshah?"


    "Of course. I have been thinking that I should meet with by soon-to-be Banbishnan Banbishn, my Queen of Queens. But only after defeating the Arabs, for I need to know I am worthy enough."


    Rostam looked perplexed from what his Shahanshah said. Not only how he took this matter seriously, but him not thinking he is "worthy enough?"


    "My Shahanshah, I think you already are more than "worthy enough" to marry the youngest Roman princess."


    "Right now, I am but a child ruling one of the most powerful empires in our world. Everyone can rule a powerful empire for a few years, but not everyone canst for decades. The battle with Arabs will decide that."


    Rostam looked at him, still perplexed. As he thought, in a lot of things, he still didn''t understand his Shahanshah very well.

 Chapter 50: The hardest decision

    <h4>Chapter 50: The hardest decision</h4>


    Oh, Hira. The Pearl in the Desert. The Gate to Mesopotamia. All those rumours Usama heard about the once grand and magnificent city of Hira, all those expectations, were ruined in just one moment. It wasn''t like Hira was deserted, dested or unbearably poor. It wasn''t. But it also wasn''t "The Pearl in the desert" Usama expected it to be. People were mainly outside the walls, working the fields in the bank of Euphrates. Inside were only few craftsmen, smiths and some merchants. It''s to no ones surprise, that city serving as a military base would be trying to concentrate on producing food, especially if the city was built on such a fertile soil. And, of course, what would be a military base without someone to repair damaged weaponry.


    But Usama was still perplexed by theck of people. And, to add to his confusion, all of those people were clearly Muslim Arabs ¨C no trace of any locals. What happened here? Just when he started fearing the worst, that the Muslim army massacred everyone in the city because of their religion, he sighted Khalid. He knew Khalid for a long time ¨C all his life basically. And he considered him to be a good man ¨C valiant, honourable and, mainly, military genius. And he was also sure that Khalid wouldn''t let such a massacre happen. He wanted to run to him, he even wanted to start waving on him, but instead of that, he stood there, as if stunned. Questions and paranoia overwhelmed him. What if Khalid already knew of his escape? What if he''d try to send him back to Umar? And what exactly did he want to do here? Just when he started to question his motives, whether they were just, he remembered something.


    He remembered Umar talking happily about Arab army defeating the Persian one. Even Usama knew those reports and battles. He knew what happened there. It was ughter. Massacre. Meat-grinder. It, in one word, horrible. Tens of thousands died. And for what? Because they believe in different god. Because they worship different deity. Is human life worth so little? He didn''t think so. But it weren''t Zoroastrians that attacked countries in the name of religion. Usama was a zealous man. He believed in Ah stronger than amon man. But what he didn''t believe in was the religious justification of war. He made up his mind. He decided on it once, so he''ll go through with it. What will happen to Khalid should Usama seed? No one knows. But Usama was sure only what is meant to happen will happen.


    He made up his mind as he stepped forward in Khalid''s direction, who was already disappearing in the distance. He fastened his step and puffed his chest upwards, while eyeing Khalid in in the back of the street. He followed him stealthily for some reason. He didn''t even notice it at first. But when he did notice his suspicious behaviour, he quickly corrected himself. After all, he wasn''t here to stalk Khalid, he came as a friend. He, once again, puffed up his chest and quickly caught up to Khalid. As he was approaching him, Khalid noticed someone behind him and turned around. He looked to be very surprised, but also confused. He didn''t understand what exactly was Usama doing here. Usama, on the other hand, tried to y it cool and initiated the conversation.


    "Khalid, I finally found you. It was a nightmare to crawl through this poption absent city. What in the Ah''s name happened here? Where are all the people? Wasn''t Hira supposed to be a magnificent city? Or did all of it just disappear overnight?"


    Khalid was taken a bit aback by Usama''s sudden flood of questions, but quickly retaliated, choosing to take a safe approach.


    "Usama, I wee you to Hira. In regards to your questions, I also have a few, so would you minding with me to somewhere more private?"


    "Not at all, my friend."


    Khalid smiled on Usama and led him through the street while keeping an eye on him from time to time. He was walking in front of him, as someone leading the way, while Usama was behind him, following, even without knowing where. He thought about the possibility of this being a trap, but decided to put his trust in Khalid in this matter, blindly following him into a possible ambush. But as he learnt soon enough, it was no ambush nor a trap.


    They entered a building that looked like it served as an administrative centre of sorts in the past. It had decorative architecture. Inside it, it also was established to look representative. They passed a few guards and some people running around, until they reached a door that was inly out of sight. When they entered Usama couldn''t overlook how over-decorated the room was. Khalid sat down in one of the armchair and gestured Usama to also sit down.


    "Now, I won''t let you stand by yourself, will I? Sit down. That way we can enjoy our talk more."


    "Thank you for your hospitality, Khalid." said Usama while sitting down reluctantly. "But now, that we are here, can I have my questions answered? I am a bit anxious about it, you see."


    "Of course you can. What did you ask again? Ah, I know! No, rest calmly, when we arrived with ns to conquer the city, it was already empty. We ourselves don''t know what any why, but it was definitely a hit for our morale. You see, soldiers start to conspire and make up theories. Curses and such. But nothing happened yet and we are building a stablemunity here, so I believe all of these theories are false after all."


    Usama sighed, clearly out of relief. He was pent up about it the whole way here. But now, his stress could be relieved. But suddenly, the atmosphere in the room changed and the pressure became more evident as Khalid looked suspiciously on Usama.


    "Now, my dear friend, do tell me, what exactly are you doing here? I never heard of any message from Umar that you''ll be visiting us. And I don''t suppose you travelled on the foot the whole way here. So who do we owe your visit?"

 Chapter 51: To betray your home

    <h4>Chapter 51: To betray your home</h4>


    Usama eyed Khalid with nervous eyes. When it finally came to it, he felt as if the whole world started falling apart. His heart started beating quickly, and even loudly. Usama was surprised Khalid didn''t hear the beating of his heart. He started to lose concentration, but somehow held on and took control of his own body yet again. He looked Khalid straight in the eye, determination in his mind.


    "Do I need Umar''s approval to go where I want? I am not his child, and he isn''t my father. Don''t you agree?"


    Khalid was a bit perplexed. He didn''t expect this sort of answer, perhaps not even in his wildest dreams. But now he wasn''t sure how to feel about Usama''s sudden visit. He just wasn''t sure anymore.


    "Yes, of course I agree. But you have to admit, my friend, that seeing you here is, at least highly unusual and, to an extent, unexpected. You can''t me me to be a bit on guard."


    "That ispletely reasonable, of course. I bet you have tons of military information that can''t be leaked orpromised. I understand that."


    "Thank you for understanding. Now, do you need anything from us, or me personally?"


    "Ah, yes, why not. You see, I travelled here on advice. I want to learn more about the leadership, tactics and such. To be useful for the Caliphate."


    Khalid smiled. "So you took the path of themander?"


    "If needed. You know me, I am not a warmongering type. But if it is for Ah, I am sure I will be of use."


    "And you were told you should head to our main base of attack to get some experience, I presume?"


    "Yes, basically. But I came only for a quick turn, as I have other responsibilities back in Ma. I reckon I''ll stay for about 2-3 days."


    "Feel free to stay as long as you like. You are wee here."


    Usama smiled on Khalid and thanked him for his hospitability before being led into a room designated for guests. Now that he established a time limit himself, he had to obey it and obtain the information he needed by then. And he didn''t think too hard about it. After all, all he needed was what n they came up with, not where, when and how exactly they''ll attack. Even just a short description of the ce would suffice. But he first needed to bring this topic up. Thankfully, due to him saying he came here in pursuit of studying warfare, it shouldn''t be hard or too obvious to casually bring up the n of the attack. Perhaps someone will let something slip from his mouth. Perhaps.


    Abu Ubayd heard about the guest from Khalid. A grandson of Muhammad, even if adopted, had came to visit them. It was an honour, even if Usama didn''t hold any kind of high position in the hierarchy or the ruling ss. A lot was expected from him in the future, but right now, he was mainly a boy with big talent and ambition. But that didn''t stop people from admiring him, just for who his grandfather was. Although, adoptive grandfather. And Abu Ubayd wanted to meet him. To talk, to speak with him ¨C perhaps he''ll learn something from him.


    He found him fairly quickly ¨C as he was wandering in the main building, Usama ibn Zayd was sitting there, his head in clouds thinking about something hardly. Abu Ubayd approached him, and Usama quickly came back from the clouds as he perceived someone approaching him. He looked up, where eyes of Abu Ubayd were already studying him. He wasn''t sure of what to do, but since it didn''t look like Abu will initiate the conversation, Usama decided to do it himself.


    "Good day, sir, I don''t think we''ve met before. Do you need anything from me?"


    Usama sent a polite and very neutral greeting Abu Ubayd''s way, but initially, he was still studying Usama with his gaze. Just after a few seconds did he notice that Usama started to talk to him. He stopped eyeing him with his studious and observing gaze, and instead switched into a very friendly gaze.


    "Ah yes, I am sorry, I was rude. I am Abu Ubayd,mander of a part of the army stationed here. I serve here under general Khalid, whom I heard you know already. He told me himself, you see. When I heard the Muhammad''s grandson was visiting us, I knew I just had to meet you. And now that I did, I''m not sure what to think. But first, let''s speak for a bit. Do you mind?"


    Usama did mind at first, but as soon as he heard this manmands a chunk of the army here, he understood that he could have a valuable information could prove beneficial to Usama.


    "Of course not. Do you want to go somewhere, or stay here? Personally, I like it here."


    "Ah, yes, let''s stay here. After all, we''re not going to talk about some top-secret information, right? Hehehe."


    Usama smiled dryly. He didn''t share the same kind of sense of humour as this man.


    "Can you tell me something about yourself? You know, so I get to know you better. The more you know about someone, the bigger the bond, or so they say. Hehe."


    "That''s very general. But I don''t mind. I''ll tell you."


    Usama then went on talking about his life for a while. But mainly, he talked about his grandfather, his rtionship with him and how he viewed him. It got Usama thinking, actually. Would his grandfather support this warmongering? He couldn''t bear it and decided to ask Abu Ubayd.


    "Abu Ubayd, do you mind if I stop here and ask you a question?" said Usama in a serious tone. Abu Ubayd noticed the seriousness and looked Usama straight in the eyes. Then he put on a broad smile.


    "Ask all you want."


    "Do you think our prophet Muhammad would like to see us attacking Persians? I thought about it a few times, but never coulde up with a solid answer."


    "You see, I don''t think we should talk about what he would or wouldn''t do. We should instead talk about what he did and what he didn''t. And he brought us the God''s word. That''s what he did. And we decided that we should continue spreading his word, but not only in Arabia, but to the whole world."


    Usama was surprised by this answer. Of course, how foolish of him! How could he think he can decide what would someone think?


    "You are right, Abu Ubayd. I like your answer a lot."


    They sat there a few moments, before Usama initiated the conversation again.


    "When we''re on the topic, where do you n to strike the Persians? I''d reckon pushing thourgh Euphrates would be hard."


    Abu Ubayd looked on Usama with a strange expression before finally changing back into his usual joyful expression.


    "Yes, Khalid did say you came here to study warfare, apparently. Well, I think I can tell you at least this. We n to attack through a shallow pass of Euphrates. And as a backup, we have a bridge nearby downstream."


    That was it! That was the only thing Usama needed! What Abu Ubayd considered as a worthless information was crucial to Usama. Because Abu Ubayd underestimated something. That natives know theirnds best.

 Chapter 52: Unexpected ally

    <h4>Chapter 52: Unexpected ally</h4>


    A few days after Usama left Hira to "return to his responsibilities", Khalid and Abu Ubayd were left alone again, finishing the preparations for the invasion. Nobody noticed anything, even when they never heard from Umar of Usama''s return. But Usama, he surely didn''t go back to his responsibilities. He chose the path of the traitor. At least that''s how his decision would be seen by Umar, Khalid and other Arab leader. But history can sometimes take such a turn, where honourable and noble actions would beter seen as evil and cruel, and where betraying one''s nation would be rewarded with praise. Sometimes, history simply isn''t just.


    Door suddenly burst open as servant quickly ran inside the room. Yazdegerd was surprised by this situation as he slowly turned around to face the servant, waiting until he tells him what he wants. The servant was clearly out of breath, but he tried to keep it cool and started talking immediately.


    "My Shahanshah, your spahbed and hazarbed are calling for you. They say it''s urgent! Very urgent! They''re waiting for you in the meeting hall."


    Yazdegerd''s expression gained all seriousness. He knew them very well ¨C and because of that, he also knew that it is urgent. He stood up, as he was sitting in his chair all the time, and went out from the room, passing around the servant.


    "Go to the kitchen and ask them for some wine or something. Just say I sent you." said Yazdegerd to the servant that was still catching his breath. He slightly bowed as to say thanks, but Yazdegerd didn''t notice and didn''t really care. He walked swiftly, not running, but also not simply walking. He didn''t really know what was he supposed to expect. Some new revtion? Did someone he trusted betray him, perhaps? Or is it about the war? Did the Arabs cross borders once again or what? He didn''t know.


    When he arrived into the room, Rostam and Jalinus were waiting for him. The two were silent, clearly no manner of conversation was held between those two. It just showed the disdain they held for each other. But there was also another someone. It was a man, with the typical Arab turban on his head. He wore simple white robe and had slightly darker skin than typical Persian. It was already clear where he came from. His hands were tied with rope, it didn''t look like he resisted. Yazdegerd knew something isn''t right. He looked on Rostam and Jalinus, looking on one for a while before turning his head and looking on the other one. Then they both kneeled.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal." said Rostam and Jalinus basically simultaneously before standing up again. The tied man was observing Yazdegerd with awe and even surprise. And Yazdegerd noticed it.


    "Who is this? Is this man the reason this matter is so urgent?"


    Rostam hesitated at first, while Jalinus simply stayed silent and let Rostam handle it.


    "Partially, yes. You see, this man is from Arabia."


    "I noticed, yes. And?"


    Yazdegerd was eagerly awaiting the exnation Rostam and Jalinus owed him.


    "His name is Usama ibn Zayd."


    "That''s great to know," he turned towards the tied up man "my honour," then he looked back on Rostam. "but how is this relevant to the urgent matter? I thought I came here to solve something urgent, not that you''ll introduce your friends to me."


    "My Shahanshah, forgive me for asking, but do you not know who Usama ibn Zayd is?"


    Yazdegerd looked suddenly perplexed. Of course he doesn''t know the names of every Arab.


    "No. Should I? Is he someone important?"


    "He''s the grandson of their prophet Muhammad."


    Yazdegerd looked like he was still processing what Rostam said before realizing what he meant by that and widening his eyes in surprise. And he stayed like that for a while, looking and observing Usama. But then it struck him. How did he get here, why was he here and why was he tied up? And, mainly, why or how was his identity revealed? There were numerous Arab Muslim traders in Persia, so if he wanted to stay incognito he wouldn''t have any issues. So it was clear he didn''t want to. He wanted them to know who he was. Yazdegerd looked away from Usama to Jalinus.


    "Alright. I understand who he is. But now, tell me, how did he get here and what does he want?"


    Jalinus looked like he didn''t know what or how to say it.


    "Did he sneak inside, perhaps?" asked Yazdegerd curiously.


    "No, my Shahanshah. He entered through the main entrance and told the first guard he saw to call me before he said who he is and that he wants to meet with you."


    If it wasn''t Jalinus who was talking, Yazdegerd wouldn''t believe him. He walked through the main entrance and basically turned himself in, all as a means to talk with Yazdegerd. What could he want to talk about with him?


    "And did you perhaps... ask him? What he wants?"


    "We did. And this is where it gets even more unbelievable, my Shahanshah."


    "Go on." said Yazdegerd, leaning closely so he can hear better.


    "Apparently, he ran away from Arabia because he doesn''t like the warmongering way his rulers hold and he directly opposes any kind of religious expansion through conquest. But being without any sort of real power in Arabia, he decided to go here, to Ctesiphon to try and form sort of an alliance with you, my Shahanshah. And as a proof he means it and he''s not bluffing, he told us he know that Arabs will strike in a matter of weeks, perhaps few months, and he also said he knows where. But he''ll give us this information only after youe to an agreement with him."


    Yazdegerd was, to say it simply, shocked. He wouldn''t dream of something like that in his wildest dreams! It was unbelievable! He simply couldn''t believe it.


    "And is he the real deal? Isn''t this perhaps just some impostor?"


    "We brought here few Arab traders that recognized him immediately. He is the real deal."


    Yazdegerd sighed. This whole situation was bing more and more absurd.


    "Well then, what can we do except to try and talk with him? We could use the information he offers us. Does he even speak Persian though?"


    And so, the discussion between Usama and Yazdegerd began.

 Chapter 53: The deal to change the world

    <h4>Chapter 53: The deal to change the world</h4>


    Yazdegerd was still observing Usama very cautiously and Usama seemed to do the same. But he didn''t look on Yazdegerd with such a caution, but more with interest and perhaps joy, not minding the fact that he was still tied up and basically treated as a hostage. Yazdegerd was the first to start the conversation.


    "Do you even understand me?" he asked, nervously looking from Rostam to Usama, back and forth. Usama just smiled with pride in his eyes.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, as a son of son of Imam... eh, prophet is the word? Muhammad, sahu ''yhi wa sam, I have received an education worthy of my upbringing. With that came, naturally, lessons in Middle Persian."


    Yazdegerd was stunned. What this man just said proved a lot of things to him. Firstly, by calling him with the proper title and proper courtesy (My Shahanshah, may he be immortal.), he basically already said that he considers Yazdegerd to be his liege, which was fairly unexpected, considering such a gesture would need proper understanding of Persian customs and social norms. Yazdegerd was also surprised and, in a way, perplexed on Usama''s knowledge on Middle Persian. Middle Persian was fairly difficultnguage for outsider to grasp. And to talk with such a fluency was very admirable. But there was one thing Yazdegerd didn''t understand.


    "Forgive me for my ignorance, my dear guest, but could you enlighten me in what I presume is basic Arabian courtesy? I am aware of your prophet and also of the high regard he is held in in your homnd. But why mixing Arabic into what was fully fluent Middle Persian monologue?"


    Usama immediately understood what Yazdegerd meant, and, well, he partially expected it. Rostam and Jalinus also seemed to not know for sure.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, the line I used is simr to, and forgive my insolence, how I say "may he be immortal" after mentioning you. It''s meaning is something like ''Peace be upon him.'', but you need not worry about it. You aren''t of our religion, and, speaking frankly, it would be more offensive to us if you were saying it than if not."


    Yazdegerd was satisfied with the exnation, so he changed the topic once again.


    "Rostam, can you repeat what did this man want to offer us? Why did he came here?"


    "Of course, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. He apparently wants a alliance of sorts, offering us ssified information in exchange for letting him fight alongside us."


    Jalinus was nodding the whole time, as if saying "That''s true." the whole time.


    "Thank you, Rostam, my spahbed. Is this right, my dear guest?"


    "Basically, yes, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. Also, you can call me Usama, just to make things easier."


    "My advisors only told me the basics, so could you borate and uncover the specifics? What exactly do you expect from us, and what exactly do you offer?"


    Rostam and Jalinus nodded respectively, agreeing with their Shahanshah, not speaking unless allowed. Usama, on the other hand, looked like he was lost in thoughts. Perhaps he was thinking about how he should approach this issue, the way he should exin and present his offer and what words should he use. After a while, no more than twenty seconds, he started talking.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, asmon courtesy, I''ll start with what I expect from you, so you know in advance. I wish to have your aid in overthrowing current Arab leaders. They not only bring bloodshed, but also suffering and pain not only tonds they conquer and convert by force, but also to their ownnds. I can assure you that most people back home want only to live a normal life, worshipping Ah and tending to their livelihood. They don''t want war, nor do they want their sons, brothers and husbands to go and die ''in the name of God.''"


    "Weren''t the Muslim armiesposed mainly of volunteers? At least that''s what our reports said. Was it all lie?"


    "My Shahanshah, the days Muslim soldiers marched into battle as volunteers are long gone. We are a small nation, and most of those few tens of thousands volunteers are long dead. We''ve since understood that, no matter how strong one may believe, unless he and his home is endangered, not many will choose to voluntarily go to war."


    "I see. So those really were volunteers fighting us. Rostam, do you think our zealots would take up arms and fight, in the name of Ahura Mazda?"


    "My Shahanshah, as sayidi ibn Zayd said here, given enough threat and danger, I''d say they would. But that is if they really knew of the threat and feel in danger from it."


    Rostam answered without hesitation, but still wasn''t sure what to think of this question. Yazdegerd, on the other hand, looked as if Rostam''s answer satisfied him.


    "Continue, Usama. You told us what you seek from us, so now, tell me, what do you offer us?"


    "Of course, my Shahanshah, but I want to say onest thing. Were this offer of mine be epted, I demand you to treat my brethren as you treat your brethren. This is something I can''t back on."


    Rostam looked very angry and as if he wanted to say something, but Yazdegerd stopped him.


    "Usama, who do you take me for. Did you see our cities? Our towns and my Empire? I am the Emperor of Iran and Aniran, my cities in the north house thousands of Christian Armenians and Georgians, while in the south, thousands of Arab and Bedouin traders are travelling between the cities, most of them being Muslim. And, of course, in the east, Hinduism has it''s strongmunity there, in Baluchistan and Khorasan. Jalinus here is also Christian Armenian. Does this prove anything to you?"


    Usama smiled kindly. "It does, my Shahanshah. Well then, I shall continue. I know as a fact that you will be soon, in about four weeks time facing the biggest army Arabs gathered yet. And I know the location of the attack. I can offer you this information were you to ept my offer."


    Not only Yazdegerd, but also Rostam and Jalinus started paying more attention. Their eyes were widened from shock. The biggest army they gathered yet? How many are we talking about here? And they want to attack in less than two months? These thoughts swirled through their heads. They understood the situation was dire, were Usama speaking the truth, of course. But they couldn''t trust him so blindly.


    "Usama, I am sure you know how much we need that information, but you also must be aware of the fact, that, to us, you still belong to the enemy, so we can''t trust you so blindly. So perhaps we cane to apromise?"


    "My Shahanshah, what I really appreciate from you is the honesty. Forgive me from being rude, but I just don''t know whether your honestyes from inexperience, or from your diplomatic wit. And because I appreciate your honesty, I can offer apromise. I will tell you all I know, on the condition that you''ll ept what I demand from you, and that you''ll ensure my safety. I''ll stay here, guarded by as many guards you want, until you confirm I was telling the truth by defeating the enemy."


    Yazdegerd nodded on both Jalinus and Rostam, allowing them to speak by this gesture.


    "I think this is the lowest risk highest reward situation, my Shahanshah. I think you''ll be wise to ept this." said Rostam, while his distrust towards Usama seeped from him. "Allow me to take care of his house arrest."


    "You have my blessing, my spahbed." said Yazdegerd. Rostam then nodded and walked outside, presumably to gather his most trusted guards.


    "My Shahanshah, I also think agreeing with such a proposal is worthy of epting, but don''t you think allowing Rostam to guard our valuable guest is a bit irresponsible?" said Jalinus, whispering to Yazdegerd''s ear.


    "Don''t worry, my hazarbed. I know Rostam will take this responsibly and with honour. But tell him I want half of the guards be made from darigan."


    "As you wish, my Shahanshah." answered Jalinus and walked away, chasing after Rostam.


    "Now, my dear guest, I am d we came to an agreement. But I''m hungry. And thirsty. Would you mind some refreshments? After we eat, and after my advisors return, we can continue by you telling us the promised information."


    "I share the happiness with you, my Shahanshah. Thank you for your offer of refreshments, I dly ept it, I myself am quite hungry. But do you think you could untie me? It''s starting to get a bit ufortable."


    "Of course. Guards!" shouted Yazdegerd. From the hallway, just outside of the room they were in emerged two guards, pushtigban, that were guarding the door to the room until now.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    "Untie this man and stay here, at least until my spahbed and hazarbed return. Also, call me a servant. We are quite hungry."


    "As you wish, my Shahanshah."

 Chapter 54: To trust or not trust

    <h4>Chapter 54: To trust or not trust</h4>


    "What do you think, Rostam?" asked Yazdegerd when they left the room where they held Usama. He was conflicted. He didn''t know what to think of Usama''s information, whether it was useful or whether it waspletely useless. But Usama looked very confident, both about the information itself, but also when he was telling it. Nevertheless, Yazdegerd didn''t have enough knowledge and experience to be the judge. So he was asking Rostam.


    "My Shahanshah, I believe we can make something from this much knowledge. If they really mean to attack across the Euphrates in a shallow passage with a bridge nearby, we can work with that terrain. And with such specific information about the ce given, I''d say we can pinpoint the probable location in a few days at most. But, my Shahanshah, I don''t mean to disagree with you, but do you think it is wise to trust that man?"


    "Rostam, at what point has my rule been wise? It was always risk after risk, with some failures mixed in. At not point have I ruled "wisely." No, I don''t think it is wise. But if trusting him is stupid, then not trusting him is idiotic."


    Rostam sighed a bit. He started to get used to this. "As you wish my Shahanshah. How should I proceed then? Should I-"


    "Gather the army and make the necessary preparations. I''ll leave it to you. But one thing ¨C I want Jalinus to be one of themanders in the army. Can you grant me that wish?"


    Rostam was dumbfounded. He couldn''tprehend what exactly was his Shahanshah saying. He wanted Jalinus ¨C hazarbed, captain of darigan and pushtigban ¨C to lead andmand in what will most likely be a bloody and cruel battle. And that were only facts. Rostam didn''t even count his personal dislike of Jalinus, but even without considering his feelings he was strongly against such an idea. Hazarbed should stay by his Shahanshah''s side. That is a fact based on which Rostam made up his mind. But to outright refuse request from his own Shahanshah ¨C that would be outrageous.


    "My Shahanshah, if I may ¨C while I believe there is something to your request ¨C don''t you also think that hazarbed, captain of your own personal guards should stay by your side in every situation? I don''t think it is a good idea to outright send him to the frontlines, not talking about his fighting andmanding experience."


    Yazdegerd wanted to sigh, but that would just look like disrespecting Rostam, who Yazdegerd actually held in high regard. Rostam had some ws, like this way-too conservative approach to things. Old ways should remain only if new ways don''t benefit as much as the old ones. But other than that and few other ws, like dislike of anything foreign, Rostam was a capable leader, perhaps, along with Bahman Jaduya the only one that could challenge Khalid ibn al-Walid in a battle and win. His prowess in battle both as a fighter and as amander couldn''t be understated.


    And Yazdegerd knew that. He knew very much how good Rostam is in what he does. He understands even most advanced concepts of warfare and know how to work with them. He is aware of his position, not only on the battlefield, but also in society. You could say that he has mastered Persian military tactics. But despite the effectiveness of these tactics and strategies against a highly-armoured and heavy enemy, like Romans, these tactics, utilizing mainly heavily-armoured cavalry were certainlycking against a quick and swift enemy, like Arab light horsemen and infantry were.


    And that was the issue. Even though Rostam knew how and why were Persians defeated by Arabs every single time ¨C by being outmanoeuvred ¨C he would most likely refuse any changes, due to his conservative nature, and would lead the Persian army into a ughter. And even if he won, which was still highly probable, the victory would most likely be a Pyrrhic one. If Rostam was the one who would lead Persian army to the battle, it was needed to send someone with him. Someone, whose influence would be enough to make Rostam at least consider changing some tactics to suit the tide of battle.


    And Jalinus was a perfect "someone." Although Rostam didn''t have many positive emotions for him, he still respected him as a capable hazarbed and a responsible man. And so, with some luck, he would be able to influence Rostam''s decision-making and to help with the war effort, possibly being the key in winning the battle. Yazdegerd knew he needed him to be there, and was determined to do not anything, but surely a lot of things to make his request go through.


    "I want Jalinus to experience how battles are. You surely know what I am talking about. He needs to see that although being just is noble, not always can situation be resolved justly. Not always does truth prevail, and not always does good win."


    Of course, Yazdegerd didn''t say to Rostam that he wanted to ensure the battle is won, but what he told him wasn''t a lie, either. Jalinus was too fixated on being just, honest and, in a sense, noble. And all of these traits were befitting of a hazarbed ¨C when it came to representation and interaction with the guards, at least. But when it came to the darker side of the job, Jalinus was hesitant. He was too just to torture any suspect. Too honest to lie to anyone, and too noble to participate in any scheme. And it wasn''t as if he only didn''t want to do the torturing himself ¨C he didn''t let anyone do it. And, while it surely was noble, he barely got anything out of any suspect.


    But Yazdegerd didn''t want him to lose these traits ¨C after all, it were exactly these characteristics that made him so loyal and dependable subject. But for Jalinus to be able to execute his office properly, he had to harden a bit. He had to be able to enclose his just and honest nature in a box, at least temporarily, to deal with any moral crisis he may encounter without emotions blinding his rational decision-making. And battles, after all, change men.

 Chapter 55: With power comes responsibility

    <h4>Chapter 55: With poweres responsibility</h4>


    "Rostam, what''s with you? It''s bad manners to suddenly barge into someone''s chambers and not even ept his hospitality. Come on, drink some wine with me. It''ll put you in ease."


    Rostam raised his head and reluctantly picked up a cup of wine, before gobbling it up in an instant. Then he poured himself another cup. Farrukhzad, the man in who''s chambers they were, smiled and also drank a bit from his cup, before taking a chunk of a grilled chicken he had on the table. After a few cups, Rostam was already a bit drunk, but he started talking despite that. It seemed alcohol opened his heart to Farrukhzad.


    "You know, Farrukhzad, you have it damn easy. You''re just a wuzurg framadar, you know? Such and easy job, especially in the times of war. You just sit around, sometimes you sign some paper or you ride somewhere to solve some issue, but other than that, you don''t have to do anything. I, on the other hand, as amander of the whole damn military, I have to take care of recruitment, logistics, equipment, I have to ensure that recruits have proper training and thatmanders aren''t aplete idiots. And now, that Arabs n tounch a whole damn invasion, who do you think is tasked with making the necessary preparations? And who do you think got that Armenian Jalinus assigned to him? Of course it was me. Who else? Seriously, Farrukhzad, I''d swap my position with you at anytime."


    Farrukhzad wanted tough really hard, but had to hold himself back. He noticed wine was running out, so he tasked Sam, who was standing nearby to bring them another jug. After Sam left, Farrukhzad looked on Rostam.


    "Rostam, my dear brother, if I understand correctly, you were tasked only with preparing the defences, not taking part in any battles. Or am I wrong?"


    Rostam, again, raised his head in attention.


    "You''re not wrong. What do you mean by that?"


    "What I mean is, that if you don''t want to fight alongside Jalinus, you don''t have to. You''re not a fieldmander, you''re a spahbed. You don''t have to fight on the frontlines."


    "And who is supposed to take my ce on the frontlines then? Surely you don''t mean Jalinus?"


    Farrukhzad looked away for a while, as if suddenly being disinterested in this topic. Then he picked up again his cup of wine and sipped a bit. Then he looked on Rostam again.


    "That depends on you, doesn''t it? Brother, I feel like you''re very underestimating your own powers and abilities. You''re not amander anymore. Not even general. You''re more than that. You''re spahbed, and as spahbed you have much more power than a regr general. In terms of military, the only one that has more influence than you is Shahanshah himself, may he be immortal. But, after all, he has influence over all of us."


    Rostam was in sheer awe from what his brother told him. He felt as if he was aplete ignorant until now. It was true though. Rostam really was one of the most powerful people in the Empire. And he never fully realized it.


    "I am not sure whether I should thank you or not. But for the sake of decency, thank you, brother. I need to go. I have a lot to think about."


    Farrukhzad smiled and watched his brother leave the room. He was thinking about something, but only he himself knew about what.


    Rostam exited the room and met Sam, who was bringing a new jug of wine, just outside of the door. Sam bowed as he met now leaving Rostam.


    "Leaving already, my lord?"


    "Yes, I have some urgent matters I have to take care of. Thank you for your hospitality."


    "That''s nothing, my lord."


    Rostam then nodded on Sam and swiftly left. Sam then entered the room where Farrukkhzad still was, bringing him the jug of wine.


    Rostam resorted to his chambers, still thinking about what he should do. It wasn''t anything serious, but his pride and honour couldn''t let him just run away from the battlefield. But on the other hand, his position allowed just that. And without suffering any loss on both pride and honour. He just had to find someone suitable to lead the army into the battle. Rostam only had to hope his Shahanshah didn''t expect from him to lead the army himself.


    He peeked out of the door and tasked one of the guards with delivering him a wine. Guard immediately ran off, most likely in search of some servants. Then he sat down again and thought hard. It was his own pride and selfishness that drove him to this very point. But why does that matter? He would still bear full responsibility; it didn''t matter whether he would be on the frontlines on in the backlines. He still would be the one responsible for the oue of the battle.


    What mattered was the environment in which he would be supposed to lead. And Rostam knew that issues would arise should he be forced to work and cooperate with Jalinus ¨C after all, those two werepletely different. Or so he believed. And he also knew that Jalinus wille ¨C it was his Shahanshah''s wish, after all. But if he himself didn''te, he''d avoid a lot ofplications.


    Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.


    "Enter." shouted Rostam. A servant emerged from the door, bringing a jug of wine and a single cup.


    "Put it here, on the table. Yes, right there. Thank you."


    The servant bowed and just before he started to leave, Rostam stopped him.


    "Send for general Bahman Jaduya. And, while you''re at it, bring another cup."


    "As you wish, my lord."


    Rostam waited a bit nervously for Bahman to show up. It was already over 15 minutes, during which another cup he asked for was brought. Oh, what fool he made out of himself, being nervous just for such small thing as waiting for someone. He had a jug of wine to enjoy, after all.


    After another five or so minutes, he heard a knock. It was surely Bahman.


    "Enter." shouted Rostam yet again. And, of course, it was Bahman. He looked a bit angry, perhaps he was interrupted from some leisuring.


    "Rostam, what do you want? You have interrupted my sleep, so you''d better exin yourself."


    "Bahman, calm down, calm down ande here and sit with me. Let me offer you some wine."


    "Wine, hmm. Well, I''d never refuse a good wine. Alright then. So, what exactly do you want?"


    "I want you to lead the army against Arabs."


    "Oh, I see, you... you want what? Have you gone mad?"


    "No, I have not. Why would I?"


    "You want such an old man to be in charge of what would perhaps be the biggest battle of this war?"


    "You''ll have help. Our Shahanshah will send you his hazarbed, Jalinus. So you have nothing to fear, you won''t be alone."


    "Ah, I see. Now I understand why you want me to do it. I guess I don''t have a choice, do I? Haha."


    "Yes, but just one thing. Were you, and this is only hypothetical, for I believe you won''t, but were you to lose, I want you to do one thing. If Jalinus returns to the like of his defeat, then cut off his head."

 Chapter 56: Prelude to the battle

    <h4>Chapter 56: Prelude to the battle</h4>


    "Are you sure it''s here, general? Our scouts don''t report any enemy sightings, even several kilometres from us."


    "This is our only hope of finding them,mander Jalinus. Or do you know of some better way to lure the Arabs out?"


    Jalinus looked into the scorching sun, his palm hiding his eyes from being the clear target of the sunshine. They sat on a small hill overlooking the Euphrates river, looking far into the distance on the other shore. It was in a ce where the river narrowed itself into a passable crossing, while a few kilometres to the right was a small bridge that looked like it wasn''t maintained very much, while it also wasn''t meant for crossing armies.


    "What about the n? Do you know what to do,mander?"


    "Yes, I think I''ll be alright. But do you really believe I should be tasked with such a responsibility? I mean, leading the whole left nk seems to be a bit too much, at least for someone as inexperienced as me."


    "Don''t worry that much. I wouldn''t give you such a responsibility if I didn''t believe you. General Rostam also seems to believe in you, which only furthers my point."


    Jalinus was confused a bit. To him, it looked more like Rostam was trying to get rid of him.


    "General Rostam? He and believing in me?"


    "Does it not look like it to you?"


    "Certainly not."


    "Well, he can be a bit indirect with what he thinks. But the fact that he put you under me means he truly believes you''ll make a goodmander. I think he''s just scared that you''ll someday grow to be better than him and that you''ll rece him. But, and I mean no offense to you, Rostam justcks confidence. I don''t think you''ll ever outgrow him. Again, no offense, but skilledmanders like him are born only few times per hundred years. And most of them either don''t bemanders or they die before they could prove themselves. Or, in Rostam''s case, you actually make use of your skill."


    Bahman again thought of what Rostam told him before he departed. "If Jalinus returns to the like of his defeat, then cut off his head." Yes, it was clear. Rostam clearly knew of this young man''s potential.


    Below them, along the bank of the river, dragging behind them along the foothillid the camp of the Persian army. Fortified and supplied, ready to start fighting at practically any time. The small hill Jalinus and Bahman sat on was made into a provisory watchtower that served, well, as a watchtower. The sun glowed right in their eyes as it was setting down. Fair and not strong, but still energetic and warm ray of light fell on their faces, tickling them and their eyes. It would be a perfect spot to ambush them, with the sun facing them in the eyes. But not possible, for that would need the enemy army to cross the river, which was practically impossible, since Persians held control over the crossing. Jalinus heard an elephant roar somewhere behind him, down under the hill. They had few with them ¨C ten at least ¨C to use in the uing battle. Should scare the enemy soldiers, and if not soldiers, then horses at least. They had to cover their eyes, at least partially, for Arab archers could target them from the back.


    When the night came, Jalinus couldn''t sleep. He was staying on the hill, restless, waiting for scouts to bring any good news. When he was freezing, he went inside the watchtower, where a small fire was lighted, then he warmed up and was on the lookout again. He repeated this several times during the night, until a soldier who stood guard at that hour convinced him to go and get some sleep. After, he entered his tent, it was as if his legs gave out and he fell, barely clinging to his bed. Next thing he knew was the tender and warm darkness of sleep that engulfed him.


    When the morning came, Jalinus was still asleep. Although most of the camp woke up already. Soldiers were preparing themselves breakfast, while the higher ranking officers had their breakfast served by servants. Common breakfast consisted of dairy products that were brought by supply wagons early in the morning from the surrounding towns and viges, but also dates, which were well-suited to be a part of an army''s menu, because it could endure for a long time without rotting. And, if Ahura Mazda wished them well, some of them was able to catch a rabbit or kill a bird with a stone. Or sometimes both. If that happened, he and his group of friends were able to eat some delicious meat. Lot of soldiers went fishing, too, since there was a huge river right next to them. But they had to do so early in the morning, before anyone was awake, ande back around the time everyone was waking up, to be able to cook the fish well and still fulfil their responsibilities that came after the breakfast.


    Officers had it better. Not only was meat on their daily menu, they also had ess to high quality wine. The quality of the dairy products and their diversity also couldn''tpare to what soldiers were offered. For example, milk with honey was something a soldier could only dream of. But not many of the soldiers cared. At least not right now, with the fall of their homnd so real, so close to them.


    Jalinus woke up to the sound of the camp, which came alive a few hours before. His stomach grumbled from hunger, but that didn''t stop him from climbing up on the watchtower again. He even ordered a random servant to have his breakfast brought there. As he climbed up on the hill, he noticed general Bahman Jaduya was already there. He seemed concerned somehow, but Jalinus couldn''t think of any reason why would he be. Bahman spotted him as he was approaching the summit and waved his hand on him, as if inviting him. Jalinus slowly walked towards him, still thinking what could have happened.


    "Good morning,mander. Slept well?" asked Bahman with a smile some would call mischievous. Jalinus'' cheeks turned a bit red.


    "Very well." answered Jalinus. "What happened? You seem to be concerned."


    "Ah yes, well... the scout party we sent out yesterday still hasn''t returned. They were supposed to scout for the enemy army."


    "What do you think happened to them?" asked Jalinus, fearing he already knows the answer.


    "I think we''ll soon find out ourselves." answered Bahman while turning around to face the sound of the war horning from the other side of the river.

 Chapter 57: The exchange

    <h4>Chapter 57: The exchange</h4>


    Abu Ubayd was looking across the river to see Persian army hugging its shores tightly, seemingly camping here for days, waiting for them, being prepared to fight. Sweat ran down his neck. Cold, nauseating sweat. How did they know? Did he mess up somehow? Why is it that the Persian army is waiting for them, right here, in a ce that should''ve been secret from them, a ce that should''ve been Arabian triumph card?


    He looked around and behind himself, only to see hismanders, including his two sons, acting as confused and perplexed as he was. He had to pull through somehow. It wasn''t as if the battle was lost, or as if they didn''t stand a chance. But crossing the river while the enemy is looking would be suicide. If it hade to this, his only option was to negotiate a fair circumstance for the battle, or to retreat. And thetter was an option he didn''t want to think of.


    "Commander, the Persian army number few tens of thousands. They have a camp set up along the small hill and beyond. It looks like they''ve been waiting here for a few days at least. Concerning their armyposition, it seems they don''t have much cavalry and are highly relying on light infantry and their defensive positions."


    The scout that has just returned made his report to Abu Ubayd and promptly left after being dismissed. Abu Ubayd had to think carefully about his next move. If he were to believe his scout''s report, and he didn''t really had a choice, then convincing Persians to let them cross the river and fight fair and square seemed much more unreal. But you don''t know until you try, right?


    --


    Jalinus also turned to where the sound of the horn wasing from. Across the river, from the small watchtower, an army marching could be seen. The army then stopped, after sighting the Persian encampment. He observed the army closely, and noticed something. It looked like the Persians across the river weren''t taken into ount by the Arabs, which means the trap has worked and Usama''s information was correct. It was a good thing they trusted him. Not like they had much of a choice though.


    Then, suddenly, a group of riders embarked from the Arab army and rode straight to the Persians, only stopping on the shore of the river, one of them waving his hand. Jalinus looked on Bahman, full of confusion.


    "What are they doing? Do they want to negotiate?" Jalinus voiced his thought out loud. Bahman only nodded. "It would seem so. Let''s get ourselves down and see what they have to say."


    It looked like Bahman has finished talking, but he continued and said onest thing.


    "I hope you and your men have it prepared, because it looks like we''ll fight today."


    Jalinus gulped.


    --


    The group of riders stood on the other side of the river, which was still fairly wide for any meaningful conversation to be held. Bahman Jaduya took the initiative and rode on his horse roughly to the center of the river, where the water was still shallow and the stream no very strong. His men, together with Jalinus followed him, but stood a bit aside. The Arabs did the same, with only one maning to face Bahman, his retinue standing behind him.


    "I am Abu Ubayd, today, on the field of battle, I represent our Caliph Umar ibn al-Khattab. I havee to negotiate."


    "I am Bahman Jaduya, I represent my Shahanshah Yazdegerd III., may he be immortal. What offer do you bring, honourable Abu Ubayd?"


    "I havee with a proposal. Since this river divides our armies and whoever tries to cross it will dig his own grave, I fear we would remain here stuck until the Armaggedon befalls us. So let us decide who will cross the river unscathed, so we can fight fairly and with honour."


    Bahman was a bit taken aback by the proposal, but not much. At least he didn''t look like it, since he kept his iron expression. He considered the proposal, and agreed that no one would attack if things would continue how they are.


    "Honourable Abu Ubayd, I agree with you. With that in mind, I offer you the right of passage. Your army may march across the river onto the other side with my assurance that you won''t be attacked. You have my word."


    "Lord Jaduya, let us hope your words carry a weight."


    With those words, Abu Ubayd turned around and rode back to his army, together with his retinue. Bahman chose to let Abu Ubayd cross the river due to the fact that their n wouldn''t work if it was the other way around. By basically saying that they don''t need the fortified positions though, Bahman exposed the fact that they have some other n to the enemy. But Abu Ubayd didn''t notice, and that made the final nail in his coffin.


    Bahman watched Abu Ubayd and hispany as they were leaving and returning to their army. Jalinus stood beside him, fully in awe from the exchange. Bahman then turned around andmanded thepany to also take their leave.


    "What do we do now, general? Now that we''ve given up our defensive advantage to the enemy?"


    "We scrap and destroy anything they use or deem valuable. Every defence, every barricade, every wall. Then we prepare ourselves for the battle." He then looked Jalinus straight in the eyes. "You and your men will y crucial role that may determine the oue of this war as a whole. I don''t want to put pressure on you, just to make you understand the responsibility you have. I know, that as a hazarbed you surely know what responsibility is, but this is different. Forgive me for my bluntness, but rulerse and go. Empires do not. Remember that."


    Jalinus knew this, but couldn''t help but feel as if suddenly the whole world was relying on him. And in a sense, it was.

 Chapter 58: Battle of the Bridge

    <h4>Chapter 58: Battle of the Bridge</h4>


    Two armies stood in front of each other, fully knowing that only one may emerge victorious. Persian heavy infantry hid behind their thick shields in fear of the notorious Arab archers, while Arab cavalrymen looked around nervously, trying to pinpoint where those elephant roars areing from. The air in the Persian Officer tent was tense, with the only one wearing a calm expression being Bahman Jaduya.


    "General, was this really a good idea? To let the Arabs cross the river? Surely-"


    "What could have been no longer matters. What matters is that the enemy has been lured right into our trap. We only need to defeat them here, on the field of battle."


    Bahman quickly cut short one of themander who was criticizing his approach.


    "But how do you know we will win? If we lose, Ctesiphon is in danger, together with our Shahanshah."


    "Do you think we will lose?"


    "No, but-"


    "Then do not talk. I don''t expect you to win the battle, I only expect you to listen to my orders. Do that, and we will surely win."


    "As youmand, general." resigned themander with a sigh.


    Bahman then left the tent, the battlefield beingid out in front of him. The battle was about to begin.


    --


    Jalinus was waiting a few hundred metres against the stream, where a provisory dam was built and saw the initial skirmish. Persian Aswaran rode out against the Arab light camel and horse cavalry. The sh was glorious, and the outnumbered Aswaran actually held quite well. But then, horn roared and they were suddenly recalled. In that very moment, out of nowhere, elephants charged the Arab horses and camels, scaring them and making them flee the battlefield, often throwing their riders onto the ground. Most of them were then stomped into the ground. He saw some panic in the Arab army. What could''ve happened? Nevertheless, the Arab archers quickly took aim and proved once again their ferociousness by aiming at the elephants eyes. Some of the shots connected, some did not and the elephants continued charging, until they were stopped by the bodies of fleeing archers.


    --


    Bahman was overseeing the situation from afar, being too old to actually participate in the battle. Bahman was overseeing the situation from afar, being too old to actually participate in the battle. He saw some confusion in the Arab army, but thought nothing of it, at least at first. As he saw the number of elephants waning, seeing they already did enough damage, he decided to have them recalled. He looked on the troubadour standing next to him and gave him the order. Then, once again, a horn roaring could be heard, as the elephants started to retreat. He felt as if victory was within his grasp, but couldn''t help but feel it came way to easily. What could have happened?


    --


    "We have to reorganize! Infantry! Form a shieldwall and to the front! Archers, retreat behind the infantry and continue targeting the enemy! Cavalry, to me! We''re going to charge!" cried Jabr, Abu Ubayd''s son. After seeing his father and uncle die in the heat of battle, trampled by elephants, he wanted to avenge them quickly. But being hot-headed wasn''t a trait suitable for amander. Jabr took all the remaining cavalrymen and attacked the Persians, trying to get his way to the Persian general. He saw him when his father was talking with him in the river. Sleazy old man was he, and Jabr couldn''t help but hate him. Not after his father and uncle was killed by that old man''s elephants.


    But war wasn''t a simple thing, and being foolish didn''t help Jabr much. His exhausted and outnumbered light cavalry didn''t stand a chance against the Aswaran Bahman sent against them. It was a bloodbath, men screaming and falling off their horses. Last prayers could be heard, prayers to Ah, to keep their family safe. Strange, wasn''t it? Man''sst thoughts always went to his family, no matter what. Jabr himself took at least one Aswaran with him, before being ughtered. Arab cavalry was gone, and with it any chance of winning this battle.


    --


    Bahman clearly saw the desperation of the Arab army. From that he deducted that either the general was an idiot, or that he died and was reced. But it didn''t really matter to him. When he saw the Arabs retreating along the coast, some fleeing through water, he knew the battle was won. But this wasn''t all. He had one more thing to do. And, once again, roaring of a horn could be heard, but this time three times in a row. It was a signal. A signal for specific someone to do specific something. And it just happened that Jalinus was that specific someone. And he heard the signal loud and clear. And he knew what to do.


    --


    Al-Muthanna tookmand over what remained from the Arab army. His main objective was to get the hell out of here, in an orderly fashion. But to do that he had to cross the river or retreat along the coast and across the bridge. But since Persian infantry was already encircling them and cut off the escape route along the coast, he had no choice but to retreat the way they came here ¨C across the river. Persian infantry didn''t outright attack the Arabs, as if wanting to allow them to escape. Al-Muthanna thought this was strange, but didn''t worry about it. Until he saw it. A massive wave of water quickly thundering straight into the retreating Arab army. Jalinus has done his job and let the water that was held by the provisional dam out, causing something close to a tsunami tosh out.


    "By Ah! Move! Move! Quickly! Flee for your life!"


    Al-Muthanna was trying to remain calm, but eventually snapped and started running for his life, which wasn''t really easy in the water. But he was already almost on the other shore. Some weren''t that lucky. Just as he got to the other side, he turned around, only to see half his army being swept away by the water, that would carry them to who knows where. The water took everything. Horses, camels, men, rations, equipment, everything it could. And now, only few thousand from the Arab army remained. Persians could''ve pursued them more and chase them down, but Bahman thought this will be enough to discourage them from any other invasion. Oh how wrong he was.

 Chapter 59: What victory manages

    <h4>Chapter 59: What victory manages</h4>


    Jalinus was overseeing the battlefield. Well, at least what remained from it. He saw both Persian and Arab soldiers, lying dead in the sand, each seemingly the same. He also saw several dead elephants ¨C such magnificent animals, one would think it''s impossible for them to die. And yet, here they lied, dead, same as soldiers, horses and camels around them. It was strange, to think that so much death and destruction happened daily around the world. How have humans not gone extinct yet, wondered Jalinus.


    "It looks like a scene from a nightmare, doesn''t it?"


    Jalinus heard Bahman''s voice behind him. Calm and even cold. But strangely soothing.


    "I don''t know. I never had nightmares like this."


    "Then prepare yourself."


    Jalinus looked perplexed, but didn''t pay it much attention.


    "So what now? What happens now?"


    "We make proper sky burial for our dead and burn the enemy. Then we scrap the encampment, take the prisoners and we march back to Ctesiphon. Oh, and we send a report ahead of us, to our Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    "Do you think they''lle back? Arabs, I mean."


    "I don''t think so. This defeat should cripple them for good. But I don''t have irvoyance, you know."


    Jalinus just smiled at that. They weren''t even aware, but today, they made history. And, to Jalinus''s surprise, he coped with the after-battle stress much better than he thought he would. That is, until he went to sleep. Then he truly understood what Bahman meant when he said he should prepare himself.


    --


    "A message from you, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    A messenger entered the throne room bearing an urgent message from general Jaduya. Yazdegerd was pessimistic about it from the beginning and didn''t even want to read it at first. The fear of reading about another brutal defeat was something he didn''t want to experience again. He thought he steeled himself enough and that a message of loss wouldn''t sadden him much. But this wasn''t about saddening ¨C he knew that wasn''t the emotion he felt. It wasn''t sadness but feeling of ipetence. He was just tired of failing all the time. As he was opening the message, he was tempted to just throwing it away. But what kind of ruler would he be if he didn''t face his own failures?


    And, to his surprise, this time it wasn''t failure.


    As he read the lines that stood in the message, he started to get overjoyed, and it showed on his face. His guards took notice of that, and so did several courtiers in the court room. At the age of 12, Yazdegerd III. has finally won a battle against the Arabs.


    One of the guards couldn''t bear it anymore and asked. Seeing someone suddenly be happy beyond measure was strange and he wanted to make sure everything was all right.


    "Is something the matter, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal?"


    Yazdegerd looked at him with his beaming smile and simply said "They won."


    It wasn''t sure whether the soldier understood what he meant, but Yazdegerd couldn''t care less. He got up from his throne room, let his servants take his crown off of him and made his way towards the guestrooms, where Usama was housed under a strict oversight. This just showed that deep, in the core, Yazdegerd was just an abandoned child forced to wear the mask of an adult.


    Yazdegerd arrived to the room, where he met Rostam, who was also here for some reason. But it didn''t matter, as Yazdegerd wanted to call him too, so he just got two birds with one stone.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    "Good morning, general Rostam." said Yazdegerd and started to open the doors to the room where Usama was supposed to be. Rostam noticed that and thought he''ll only get in the way, so he turned around and started leaving.


    "Don''t leave, general. I wish to speak with you too. It''s an important matter."


    Rostam turned around once more, this time to face Yazdegerd. Then he followed him.


    "Does this matter somehow concern that Arab too?"


    "It does."


    They entered the room where Usama was already sitting on the upholstered chair, as if waiting for them. But that was obviously not true, as he looked as if he had just woken up.


    "Enjoying your stay, Usama?" asked Yazdegerd.


    "Why, yes, I am, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    "That''s good to hear. May we sit down with you? Have you eaten breakfast yet?"


    "I haven''t, my Shahanshah."


    Yazdegerd then turned on Rostam as if wanting to ask the same thing.


    "No, I didn''t, my Shahanshah."


    "Good! Neither have I!"


    As both Rostam and Usama wondered how is their breakfast relevant to what they''re going to discuss. But Yazdegerd didn''t seem to have the same wonders as he ordered a servant to bring them a breakfast. They waited all about 30 minutes for the breakfast, all while talking about irrelevant things, such as favourite food, drink and other meaningless stuff. After they finished their breakfast, Yazdegerd took out the message.


    "Gentlemen, this is the reason I wanted to talk with you. And, also, I wanted to celebrate a bit, thus the breakfast."


    He gave the message first to Rostam, who then passed it to Usama. Rostam kept his iron expression, while Usama smirked.


    "This proves that Usama is someone we can trust. And it also proves, that our Empire is not yet lost. We can still fight!"


    "My Shahanshah, not to be pessimistic, but I would still wait for general Jaduya to arrive and give a full report before nning any next moves."


    Yazdegerd nodded. He was happy he could share his happiness with someone. All this time on throne, he was search for something that would affirm him, something that would assure him that he''s doing great and that he''s worthy of the throne. Was this battle it? Was this his Magnus Opum, something that would put him on a path of a worthy ruler? He though it was, but history would have it other way.

 Chapter 60: The greatest challenge

    <h4>Chapter 60: The greatest challenge</h4>


    "Yes my Shahanshah, our losses were minimal. We routed the Arab army using the strategy I have told you about. Their general, Abu Ubayd died during the battle. Everything went exactly as we hoped it will. We can trust that Arab, be it whoever he wants. But I believe you already know that."


    "Thank you general. I just wanted to hear the report from your own mouth."


    Yazdegerd has called Bahman to him right as he returned so he could bask in the delight of hearing the words of victory from the general himself. But somehow, he felt like the general had more to say than that. And his intuition was right, as Bahman started talking right as he finished the report.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, I do not wish to be bearer of bad news, but I have to tell you what my scouts reported right as we departed from the battlefield any made our way here. They said that they followed the remnants of the Arab army. They said a massive army was waiting there for the survivors to join their ranks, then they reportedly marched northeast. I would rmend being very cautious, as as long as they control Hira, they can march wherever they want."


    Yazdegerd''s expression darkened. He seemed to fall deep into thoughts, his overjoyed expression and mood nowhere to be seen.


    He then raised his head, cleary shaken by the news that just fell upon him.


    "How many soldiers do they have? At least a rough estimate?"


    "The scouts reported at least 30,000, but I''d take that with a grain of salt."


    "So you don''t really know?"


    "I am sorry my Shahanshah, but I do not. Maybe 40,000? Or 50,000? I really can''t tell. What I can tell is that we ought to prepare for them. I have a rough idea where they will strike."


    Yazdegerd was surprised by this information. He didn''t really know how could Bahman ever know this though, so he was reluctant to believe him.


    "General Jaduya, why not call over Spahbed Rostam and Hazarbed Jalinus? That way we can discuss the location of the attack more properly."


    "Great idea, my Shahanshah. I agree."


    Yazdegerd had his servant bring Rostam and Jalinus right away, as well as ordering them to bring some wine and food, as he felt the uing discussion will be quite long and tedious.


    The food and wine arrived before Rostam and Jalinus did, so Yazdegerd and Bahman could indulge themselves before starting any meaningful talk.


    "Jalinus fought in that battle too, didn''t he? How did he fare?" Yazdegerd asked this question very unexpectedly. Bahman was a bit surprised, but recovered quickly and answered appropriately.


    "I had him take charge of the surprise attack. Breaching the dam, I mean. As you can see, by the result, he did very well. He''s quite themander. A talented one. One wouldn''t think he hails from Armenia."


    That intrigued Yazdegerd.


    "Why so?"


    "They are a cowardly bunch. Always hiding in their fortresses and walled cities deep in those mountains. Isn''t that cowardly? As if they didn''t want to fight on even grounds."


    "Not every nation has the luxury of being granted fertile soil andrge territory. They just work with what they have. Tell me, do you think Damites are cowardly? Just because they use their mountains to their advantage?"


    "Of course not. Their mercenaries are renowned far and wide and their aplishments on the field of battle are numerous. They are anything but cowardly."


    "Yet you think Armenians, who once held a great empire from Caspian to Mediterranean sea are?"


    Bahman''s expression changed, as if he saw the error in his own ways.


    "One can''t really judge a whole nation based on individuals. Being an Emperor of all Iranians has taught me many things, this being one of them."


    "I disagree, my Shahanshah. Some nations are nothing but barbarians. What about Khazars or G?kt¨¹rks? They have only piged our and our neighboursnd. Never have they shown just a bit of mercy towards those they killed. Not to the women, children or elderly. No mercy whatsoever. And you try to tell me that I can''t judge them based on that?"


    "Perhaps some people have cruelty and barbarism deeply rooted in them, as if it was their religion. But I still believe that somewhere, there are Khazars and G?kt¨¹rks that disagree with the cruelty they are taught to endorse."


    "Perhaps. But until someone like that appears, I will continue to view them with disdain."


    "And there is nothing wrong with that. Anyway, I feel like we''ve diverted from the topic. So you say Jalinus would make a great general?"


    "I said goodmander. But yes, I feel like he has potential. If guided well, I think he''ll be someone great."


    "I think so too. After all, that''s why I sent him with you. I felt like he had the potential."


    "You thought he had a potential? How am I supposed to understand that, my Shahanshah?"


    "I am not sure how to exin it. I just read people well. Maybe a bit too well. For example, I see that you still don''t trust me as you should, general."


    Bahman was taken aback by that words. It was true he still didn''t hold his Shahanshah in high regard, but he never said it outright. Did the small child he was facing see right through him?


    "It''s allright, general. I can understand why you feel that way. After all, respect isn''t something that is granted just like that. It should be won, and the ruler should be one to prove he is worthy of his subject''s respect."


    Just as he finished saying that, knocking on the door could be heard.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, Rostam Farrukhzad and Jalinus have arrived."


    Yazdegerd looked on the door with a stern expression.


    "It seems our pleasant talk hase to an end, general. Now we have to go back to our unpleasant responsibilities."


    Bahman just sighed and shook his head as Yazdegerd weed Rostam and Jalinus.


    ---


    "I believe the attack will lead across the Euphrates, through enemy upied Hira. They will probably move along the river, capturing as many fortresses and towns they can. They will surely not try to cross Tigris. That would be suicidal."


    Bahman, who recovered from the shock fairly quickly was exining his n of defense against the Arab.


    "You say that, general, but what is your n? You still haven''t told us what you n to do."


    "Please, be a bit patient, dear Spahbed. I believe our best move would be to cross Tigris and wait for them close to Hira. And I have found a perfect spot. Quadisiyyah ¨C a small vige near an old castle. Very defensible and it would be easy to chase Arabs should they refuse to take the fight."


    "It sounds like a good n, general, but what do you n to do in case Arabs won''t fight?"


    "Spahbed, do you also n for the case your enemies won''t fight?"


    Rostam chuckled. "No, I don''t."


    "What about you, Jalinus? Do you have anything to say?"


    "I do not, general. I believe we should go along with your n."


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, your thoughts on this?"


    "Let us not waste any time, general. I say we should begin with preparations. The n sounds good. Rostam, go and prepare the soldiers. General, go ahead and devise some sort of strategy you would use for the battle ¨C after all, you are one of the few ones who fought with them. And take Andarzaghar with you, he fought with them too, after all. Jalinus, prepare my pushtigban for escort ¨C I am going too."


    "My Shahanshah, are you sure? Battlefield is dangerous ce. You never know what might happen."


    "I trust my pushtigban to keep me save. And, after all, I can''t be absent when my people fight and bleed in what will most likely be the most important battle of this war. It is my war, too. And I intend to fight it."


    "As you wish, my Shahanshah."


    It was year 636. Yazdegerd was barely older than 12, but he already had one of his greatest challenges right in front of him. And he had to ovee it.

 Chapter 61: To foresee the future

    <h4>Chapter 61: To foresee the future</h4>


    Khalid was marching his army across the river as he got the report from his scouts. Massive Persian army was apparently awaiting them some 30 kilometres east. Were they waiting for him? It wouldn''t be surprising if that were the case. After all, Persian scouts proved efficient at the Battle of Wja and Bridge, even if one of these battles ended in defeat for the Persians. It didn''t matter though, really. He was ready to fight and win yet another battle against the Persians ¨C no matter the numbers.


    At least that was what he wanted to believe, but deep inside he was a bit unsure. After all, during the Battle of Bridge Persians didn''t have any superior numbers, yet they still won overwhelmingly. It is said they won thanks to a trap they set on Ubayd''s army. And he knew Ubayd was no idiot ¨C he was a clever man. Circumstance got better of him. And what if Persians wait for Khalid''s army with some trap again? Trap so well hidden he won''t be able to recognize it in time. Khalid soon realized that worrying about such pointless things will only make him paranoid. Let''s just ept the things as they are and march on. And let''s worry about things after we meet the Persian army toe to toe.


    Arab army marched straight in the direction scouts reported Persians are. Never would they know that most of them won''t ever return.


    --


    Yazdegerd was standing atop of a hill overseeing the whole encampment. His army was glorious in size, sure, but he already knew that size mattered little to the Arabs. Behind him, close to his tent stood an empty chariot drawn by white horses. They brought it with them, as it was supposed to be Ahura Mazda''s ride. With Ahura Mazda with them, they surely couldn''t lose. He then went back into his tent, wanting to rest. Next few days were going to be hard.


    Two days passed, and Yazdegerd found himself in amander''s tent with familiar faces. Jalinus, Rostam and Bahman Jaduya. For a moment, Yazdegerd thought about Farrukhzad and how does he fare. Right now, Farrukhzad should be travelling across Yazdegerd''s Empire to collect and write down information about properties ¨C taxable ones, that is - and whether or not they''re being taxed properly. But that wasn''t the only aim of Farrukhzad''s mission. It''s purpose was to gather information on the most powerful and most influential noblemen in the Empire. After all, should Yazdegerd win this battle, and, subsequently, this war, he''d have a lot of restructuring to do. Even though his reforms based on his predecessor were a short-time solution to the issue, they wouldn''tst forever. He had to do proper restructuring of the Empire''s taxation systems, as well as conscription system. Current ones were old, and, frankly, ineffective. Should the eagle properly rise from the ashes, he had to have his wings made anew.


    Yazdegerd then turned his attention back towards the men in the tent who were there with him, after being called out by one of them.


    "My Shahanshah, will you join us for a ss of wine? It''s better to drink while you can ¨C you don''t know when it''ll be yourst time."


    Yazdegerd smiled and responded. "Of course I''ll join you. Even for a whole jug, but please, don''t be so ominous as if it were ourst time drinking."


    "Of course, my Shahanshah ¨C servants, bring us three, no, four jugs of wine!"


    "And a ss of honey and water for me." said Yazdegerd frankly and without feeling embarrassed.


    The men around him smiled in unison ¨C he was still a child, after all, and so he didn''t drink pure wine too often ¨C it was still too strong for him ¨C so he sweetened it with honey and diluted it with water, so it suited his childish tastes better. Of course, if he just wanted to drink himself into oblivion, he''d just gulp pure wine.


    "My Shahanshah, what do you n to do after this battle? How do you want to proceed?" asked Rostam while taking his cup of wine. Jalinus just listened, quietly while drinking his wine and Bahman looked like he is also interested.


    Yazdegerd was a bit taken aback by this question. He wasn''t sure how to respond.


    "Well, I surely want to pursue the Arabs. And I want to recapture Hira as quickly as possible. After all, those poor souls are now scattered across Ctesiphon, doing whatever job they can just to keep themselves fed ¨C even counting in the benefit the Empire is paying them. I want them to return home soon, and to have Hira shine as a desert jewel again."


    "So after this battle, you n to...?"


    "Yes. I n to push the Arabs across the Euphrates."


    Rostam and Bahman nodded, satisfied with Shahanshah''s answer. But Jalinus didn''t have enough.


    "And after that?" asked Jalinus, surprising both Rostam and Bahman. Yazdegerd chuckled a bit.


    "Then, I n to give all of you a bit of rest."


    All three of them were surprised to hear Yazdegerd''s words.


    "Of course, soldiers too. Those who were conscripted will be able to return and those who fight for gold will stay and fill out the garrisons. The rest will be a standing army."


    "But why, my Shahanshah? Why not push the Arabs more? Why not take the initiative?"


    "Don''t be fooled. I n to give you all rest at most for a month. There are several reasons for that. First one is that, simply put, our nation is tired of war. Men are needed to work the fields, not to fight the Arabs. The second one is that Arabs will retreat across a desert ¨C for which they are well equipped. It will take a long time for our army to prepare to cross the desert. And, the third one is that I will go and meet my soon-to-be Shahanshahbanu."


    Rostam smirked a bit.


    "So does that mean you have taken my advice, my Shahanshah?"


    "Come on, Rostam. It wasn''t as if I had any choice, was it?"


    Rostam and Bahmanughed at that. Jalinus only chuckled.


    And, in a moment, all four jugs of wine were gone.

 Chapter 62: The brewing storm

    <h4>Chapter 62: The brewing storm</h4>


    "My Shahanshah, an urgent message needs to be discussed with you."


    Yazdegerd, still a bit sleepy fromst night, as they drank wine all night long. He also had a slight hangover. Maybe drinking so much at such a young age wasn''t something he should be doing. He turned around towards the entrance to his tent only to see Rostam standing behind the entrance, peeking into the tent. Although Yazdegerd considered that to be an invasion of privacy, he let it slide due to the circumstances.


    "I''m going. What is happening?"


    Yazdegerd walked out of his tent and followed Rostam.


    "It''s those Arabs, my Shahanshah. They''re here, just as Bahman predicted."


    Yazdegerd''s eyes widened with fear. His voice shook a bit.


    "Do you think they''ll attack soon?"


    One thing Yazdegerd feared is the possibility of Arab attack while all of the members of highmand have hangover.


    "Well, we don''t think so. After all, the scouts have just reported their arrival. I don''t think they have the energy to attack us. Maybe tomorrow. Or tonight. But not right now."


    Yazdegerd was relieved. It meant that he could rest easy and not think about the possible attack. At least for now. Probably.


    "What about Bahman and Jalinus? How are they?"


    "They are alright. After all, both of those handle their wine quite well. Even I was surprised." said Rostam with a slight chuckle, maybe trying to ease the situation. But Yazdegerd wasn''t in the mood for jokes. And Rostam understood that.


    "One more thing my Shahanshah."


    Rostam suddenly stopped in his tracks as they neared themander''s tent. Yazdegerd also stopped and looked Rostam straight in the eyes.


    "They arrived, as you requested."


    Yazdegerd just smiled.


    --


    "Rostam, how d I am to see you. It seems you handled the rebellion quite well. Tell me about it sometime, will you?"


    "Piruz,st time I wanted something from you you were as uncooperative as a Khazar and now you''re acting like my best friend? Stop it. And also, behave yourself in front of our Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    As soon as they entered the tent, Rostam first, they were met with a cheerful voice. It belonged to Piruz Khosrow, one of the more important Sassanid generals, who was recalled from Merv after he defeated the G?kturks there. Yazdegerd himself wanted him as one of themanders, and so he sent him the call of duty.


    As soon as Piruz realized Rostam didn''t enter the tent alone, his behaviour changed rapidly.


    "I apologize for being rude, my Shahanshah."


    "Do not worry, general Piruz. It doesn''t matter. By the way, although I already sent you a letter about this, congrattions on your victory. And thank you for protecting our Empire."


    The young Shahanshah was a bit humble for Piruz'' expectations, but he just decided to go along with it.


    "Thank you, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."


    Rostam shot Piruz a mischievous nce, fast enough that no one noticed.


    "Did the other two I sent message to arrive as well?"


    Rostam pointed towards a corner in the tent where an old man with a child were seated.


    "Bashir, I am d to see you here. Has the journey been hard on the boy?"


    Yazdegerd felt like a hypocrite by calling the reincarnate, a child only few years younger, a boy.


    "Thank you, my Shahanshah." said Bashir as he and the boy bowed. "I don''t think so. I feel like he''s enjoying himself. He has never seen so many soldiers you know ¨C they have quite the effect on him."


    Yazdegerd looked on the boy, who was tugging Bashir''s robe and telling him something by his hands ¨C Bashir apparently understood him well.


    "Let''s just hope he''ll have the same effect on the soldiers as they have on him." answered Yazdegerd and smiled.


    Bashir didn''t even answer.


    --


    Rostam was observing the Arab encampment early in the morning. It may have been 5 in the morning. Some soldiers were already getting up, making breakfast or using their precious time in other means. After all, for some of them it would best morning of their life. As Rostam was focused on the Arabs, Yazdegerd came from behind him without him noticing.


    "Seen anything unusual, my spahbed?"


    "My Shahanshah!" yelped Rostam in surprise. "I am sorry, I didn''t."


    Yazdegerd just nodded and stood next to him. The two of them stood there for a while, until Yazdegerd broke the silence.


    "You know, my spahbed, I was thinking. This whole war, and not only that, but also the whole future of our countries is being decided today. And there''s not a thing I can do to help. "Today you are the most prominent man among the Iranians. You see that the people of Iran have not faced a situation like this since my family assumed power."


    Rostam frowned as he heard Yadzegerds words. Those were his true feelings. He was scared. He was scared of losing all he held dear. And, truth be told, Rostam was scared too. He wasn''t sure whether he could win this battle. After all, the pressure was real and even veteran like him or Bahman couldn''t get rid of it.


    "Those Arabs, they are like a pack of wolves, falling upon unsuspecting shepherds and annihting them." replied Rostam. Yazdegerd frowned.


    "It is not like that. They are like an eagle who looked upon a mountain where birds take shelter at night and stay in their nests at the foot of it. In the morning the birds recognized that the eagle is preying upon them. Whenever a bird became separated from the rest, the eagle snatched him. When the birds saw him doing this, they did not take off out of fear. But if they had taken off all at once, they would have repelled him. The worst thing that could happen to them would be that all would escape save one. But if each group acted in turn and took off separately, they all perished. This was the simrity between them and the Iranians."


    Rostam looked shocked upon hearing Yazdegerd''s retort. What was this child even saying, he thought. But bit by bit, he started to understand what Yazdegerd meant. He meant that should the Persians fight united and together, they''ll repel even the biggest threat. But should they try to fight each alone, they''ll all die. And if they all fought together except one, the one would die and that would be the worst scenario.


    "Maybe you''re right, my Shahanshah. I hope you are, because the Arabs seem to prepare to move." said Rostam as he was analyzing what Yazdegerd said and he noticed some strange movement within the Arab army. The storm has been brewed.

 Chapter 63: The battle of Al-Quadissiyah

    <h4>Chapter 63: The battle of Al-Quadissiyah</h4>


    Yazdegerd seemed to be alerted. He quickly turned his gaze towards the Arab army who looked as if they were preparing their formations. As Yadzegerd was slowly realizing the gravity of the situation, Rostam was already gone, shoutingmands for the soldiers to prepare. He didn''t waste any time and he quickly gathered the highmand to discuss the uing battle with them, as well as sending lowermanders and sergeants to gather the army into formation and prepare them. Yazdegerd simply looked astonished, but deep inside him a rage was brewing. Maybe not rage, but rather frustration. Frustration on how powerless he was in these situations, where skill mattered more than rank or education. And he wasn''t very skilled in warfare. From the few lessons on strategy and tactics he managed to get he wasn''t very wise, and he wasn''t very much skilled with a de either. He was merely a figurehead at this point, like a king in chess. Valuable, but dependent on others to protect him as he could do very little. Just as the frustration was getting better of him, Rostam suddenly looked his way.


    "My Shahanshah, I''d like you to take part of the discussion, if that''s possible."


    Yazdegerd simply nodded and started walking Rostam''s way. He felt a bit relieved. Of course he wouldn''t refuse Rostam.


    After a brisk but effective discussion about the tactics, which Yazdegerd didn''t understand as well, Rostam turned to him.


    "My Shahanshah, I''d like you to give a speech to the soldiers. I believe I told you before, but it''ll drastically boost the troops morale."


    Yes, he told him before. But not only Rostam. He remembered from his lessons on strategy, that ruler or a general giving a speech to the army before will brighten up the soldiers tremendously. Every great general in history was giving them. The question is whether it were those speeches that helped them win the battle, or whether it was their own skill. Yazdegerd didn''t know, but he hoped that the speeches yed a significant role, because that was the only thing he could do at the moment.


    "No issues, my spahbed. But bring me Bashir and the boy here. They''ll apany me during the speech. Having one of the most important representants of the clergy couldn''t be harmful."


    Rostam nodded. "I''ll call for him." Then he turned around back to the officers. "You know what to do, right? Then go to your posts and wait for further instructions."


    Yazdegerd was surprised at how quickly men can change. Just yesterday had Rostam held Bahman Jaduya with high respect, and now he wasmanding him like amon soldier. There was a huge and obvious difference between Rostam during battles and outside of them. Maybe it was the stress, maybe the thrill that changed him so much. But that didn''t really matter. Perhaps it was even good he was able to adapt so quickly and so well, thinking quickly but still rationally. Perhaps it was this ability that was the dividing line between good and badmander.


    --


    It was now clear ¨C the Arabs were certainly preparing for an attack. The Persian formation was almost finished and so they were more than ready for the Arab attack. But that wasn''t going to happen.


    Yazdegerd stood on an elevated spot, overseeing most of the army. Rostam stood next to him, making sure the formation ispleted well. Bashir was also present, together with the kid. It was dawn of the battle and Yazdegerd was nervous more than ever. He stood there, his knees shaking, his throat sore. Far in the distance, heralds were standing. They were supposed to ry Shahanshah''s message into the faraway ranks of the army. It wasn''t possible for the whole army to hear him, so he had to rely on these heralds. But he was at a loss of words. The pressure, the stress, all those eyes, all fixated on him, on his small figure covered in expensive robe and golden crown. He was a symbol of the Empire, of many nations, of millions of people, yet he couldn''t even encourage those he was supposed to represent.


    No, he was. On his left side, he saw Jalinus on his horse, looking at him with expectant gaze. Bit in the distance, he saw Bahman Jaduya, looking grumpy yet somehow excited. Rostam was also awaiting the speech, and even though he was hiding it behind his iron expression, he too was nervous. Yazdegerd wasn''t the only one nervous here. Many of the soldiers were much more nervous than him ¨C after all, none of them knew whether they''d return alive, or stay here atop of the Towers of Silence. Yazdegerd had much higher probability of surviving due to his rank. The least thing he could do was to encourage them.


    "Soldiers of the Empire! Iranians! Today, the invader is, once again trying to steal more of ournd. They came to pige, rob, kill, rape and murder! They want to rece us, to banish and destroy our way of living, the way our ancestors lived. They want to destroy our history, our nation and our religion. They have already spilled more blood of our brethren then we should''ve allowed. And today, they''ll be put to an end by your spear, de or arrow. We shall let them pay for the blood with which they sullied ournd, our Empire. They acted like wolves killing off a herd of sheep. Little did they know that the sheep they were trying to kill were lions disguised as sheep. That''s why they will meet their end today, with Ahura Mazda overseeing their defeat! Let''s kill those barbarians, let them taste defeat today, so they know to never again go against the might of the Iranians, against the might of Ahura Mazda!"


    The speech was met with a glorious roar from the army. Yazdegerd didn''t know whether his speech worked so well or if he''d be met with the same roar should he say anything, but he chose to believe the former. They soon heard cheers from the Arab army too. It was time for prayers. Both of the armies held prayers before the battle, everyone praying to their own god. The Zoroastrian prayer was held by Bashir and the reincarnate, who acted as a medium. Silence fell upon thend, as both armies were praying to a being they didn''t really knew existed, yet they still told them their wishes, their fears and their deepest secrets, for many of whom it was thest time they ever told anyone. But maybe it was exactly the knowledge, or at least hope, that someone is watching over you, guarding you and protecting you, guiding you towards the right path that made them trust their gods. If you think about it like that, sometimes it doesn''t really matter whether the being really exists or not.


    --


    Rostam overlooked the battlefield. At first, he wanted to lead the charge personally, but after some convincing, even he himself had to admit that it''s a foolish idea. He saw the two armies, shing against each other, overlooking the mighty battle from afar. Yazdegerd was doing the same from somewhere. As soon as the battle begun, his pushtigban instantly surrounded him and guarded him so he wouldn''t be harmed. No one knows what the Arabs might be nning. The battle was in early stages, so it was difficult, nearly impossible to say who will win. No one has made any breakthrough yet, so it all mattered on the minds of themanders and swords of the soldiers. Rostam frowned and gestured for the herald to prepare himself. He was about to givemands.


    --


    Jalinus was deep in the enemy line, fighting together with men under hismand. He charged with them on horseback to bring the morale even higher, but was nning to soon retreat and givemands from a safer distance. As he was slowly pulling back, his bodyguards creating an opening for him, he heard a sound of a war horn. A Persian one, to be exact. It was clear to him what that meant. New orders. He had to get back from the frontline to properly ry themands. He turned around. The battle was intense. Men screaming, swords shing and shing, spears stabbing and swooshing and armour clunking. He still didn''t get used to the sounds. To the atmosphere. He wondered whether he even was suited for such a role on the battlefield. But thatsted only a small moment, before he started to focus again. He was here to win the battle, not evaluate his life.


    He rode from the bulk of his men and ryed the orders given to him from above. His men started to slowly retreat and let the Arabs push further in. Without them noticing The Immortals charging from the hill right into their nk.


    --


    Arabs reacted fairly quickly, but the damage was still done. Their nk was now in ruins and Jalinus''s men used this opportunity to push in and start ughtering the confused Arabs. At the same time as The Immortals charged, Jaduya''s nk started to push into the enemy, forcing him to further divert his resources, making them fall back. As the nks started to cut off and encircle parts of the Arab army, the centre was still fighting fiercely.


    Rostam still oversaw the battle. He was certain victory is in his grasp, he just needed to make the right push. And so he ordered the centre to also start pushing. Putting their force into it, breakthroughs in Arab lines started to appear. Persians started flooding the Arabs, encircling parts of their army in pockets that were then promptly ughtered. Arab army started mass fleeing, not even theirmanders being able to do anything. How majestic yet simple. Just being caught off guard for a moment could mean doom. At this point, no resistance was left. Who could flee fled, and who didn''t ended up as a blood stain on the desert sand, which had already turned red.


    Rostam sighed. It was as if several rocks suddenly rolled off of his back. He felt much lighter and relieved. For a moment, he wanted to scream because of the joy, but he resorted to just smiling. Brimming with joy and confidence, he set off to bring the message to Yazdegerd.


    --


    "General Jaduya!"


    Bahman turned around to see Jalinus riding towards him on a horseback.


    "Commander Jalinus. Good to see you alive. What brings you here?"


    They were both still on the battlefield, their soldiers scattered across, scavenging the enemy dead or searching for their fallenrades. Jalinus looked around a bit, then set his gaze on Jaduya.


    "We have won, didn''t we?"


    Jaduya chuckled.


    "We sure did. It all happened so fast. One moment we were on par with them, the next they were running like rabbits! Ha ha!."


    Jalinus smiled and looked upon the battlefield, ridden with people who lost their lives and with people that lost everything but their lives. He wasn''t sure how was this worth any goal. And to be fair, no one was.

 Chapter 64: The storm has perished

    <h4>Chapter 64: The storm has perished</h4>


    Yazdegerd was looking through the battlefield. It all seemed to happen so fast ¨C even though the battlested more than half the day. He has been preparing for this battle for a long time, yet here he stood, his army victorious and marching forward to reconquer lost territory. But he was still thinking. About the battles his army has fought before, the battles they lost. They lost a lot of them ¨C and most of them harshly. But somehow, someway, they won today. A turning battle no less. But he found it strange. It just seemed to be so easy ¨C at least for him, for an observer. It certainly wasn''t easy for the regr soldier, fighting on the frontlines. Without even evaluating his input and his actions that had sprung the chain of events that led them to this victory, he put all the praise on his soldiers and generals, without acknowledging himself. Such a man he was.


    In the end, he was just d they won. No need to think too strong about it, and no need to worry about it. Just leave it as it is and rejoice. This, after all, isn''t the end, but merely the beginning.


    --


    A day before.


    "It seems the Persians have anticipated us. Again. That doesn''t matter though. We will crush them just like we always did."


    Khalid was talking to himself, as usual. He was already devising a n in his head to defeat Persians. And he had good feeling about this. Their and their enemy''s position, the weather, his soldiers and the terrain, he had a good feeling about all of this. He left the observation of the enemy encampment for another day and went back into his tent, intending to get some rest. Tomorrow will be a big day for them. He can''t afford to be tired.


    He managed to get barely two hours of sleep before he was interrupted by an urgent message.


    "General, a messenger came. He says he has an important message for you."


    "I''m going, I''m going. Lead me to him."


    "No need. He is waiting for you in front of the tent."


    Khalid frowned and exited the tent, to find a clearly tired, lightly clothed man standing in front of him.


    "So, what message do you bring me?"


    Messenger looked him in the eye.


    "General, it''s the Romans! Out of nowhere, they invaded from Judea and are pushing into Arabia! Caliph sent me to get you. If Arabia falls, we are lost!"


    Of course, Khalid knew that. And he also knew he had to go. But it was hard, to leave before giving the Persians the final, crushing defeat. He only had to trust hismanders that they will win the battle without him. After all, they should, if they follow his n and strategy, they should have no issue. And even if something went wrong, they all are experiencedmanders. It shouldn''t be an issue.


    "Then, let us go. Prepare everything we will need for our journey."


    "Of course, general."


    What Khalid underestimated wasn''t the Persian army, but the man the Arabs had to face. Rostam Farrukhzad.


    --


    After a day and a half of travelling, Khalid and his army reached Tabuk, which was already besieged by the Roman army. But it looked strange. As if they really didn''t want to take the city. No siege equipment was seen, not even unfinished. The army had their distance from the city and was just sitting and waiting there. At least that''s what it looked like from distance. The reality waspletely different.


    Jabal knew he wouldn''t be able to take Khalid on his own, and he knew the Persians also don''t have much bigger chance of doing so. At least he thought that. So he simply provided distraction, as he knew Khalid wouldn''t stay to fight the Persians if Arabia was endangered. And should Tabuk fall, any invasion further into Arabia wouldn''t be an issue. Jabal knew all of that, thanks to extensive preparations. And Khalid fell right into the trap set up by the Romans and Persians. He focused only on one enemy at time, ignoring the other one. And that mistake was his fatal one.


    --


    "My Emperor, we have new reports about the Persians. It seems they have won against the Arabs."


    Heraclius was enjoying the little bit of the free time he had with his daughter, Roxane, when a messenger came up to him, informing about the war in the Middle East. It seems the Persians have won another big battle against the Arabs. Smile crawled on his face. It seems the distraction worked.


    "What about general Jabh ibn al-Aiham? How did he fare?"


    "It seems he''s now safe in Judea. It was him who sent this message."


    "Of course. I could''ve thought so. You can go now, thank you."


    The messenger bowed and promptly left.


    Heraclius then turned on Roxane, who was in the background, simply listening, as if interested.


    "It seems you''ll see your future husband sooner than we''ve thought." said Heraclius with a smirk.


    She simply frowned and sulked. "Don''t forget what you promised, father."


    Heracliusughed. "Of course, my dear. But I believe it won''t be needed." Answered Heraclius and smiled.


    Roxane simply scoffed. It must''ve been hard on her, thought Heraclius, but he was sure he was making the right choice. After all, when the timees, he''ll much rather have her safe in an Imperial Pce of another country, then vulnerable here, in his own pce.


    "Alright then. I must now go, my dear. I think you have your lessons on Middle Persian starting now, don''t you? Then go and educate yourself."


    With that, Heraclius left and went towards his throne room, where few not-so-liked faces gawked at him. It was Philippicus and Nicetas, unruly people, even though one of them was Heraclius'' own cousin. They were advocating against the alliance with Persians from the beginning, and weren''t happy to see the Persians winning.


    Heraclius entered the room nonchntly, still happy about the sess he saw against the Arabs. He sat down on his throne and began to speak.


    "Good day, gentlemen. As you may have already heard, the Persians were able to repel and crushingly defeat the Arabs in not one, but two battles. I believe this only proves the importance and value of our alliance against themon foe. If you still have anything to say against this idea, I will dly hear you out."


    No one had the guts to say anything, especially when confronted with pure facts. But Philippicus realized something.


    "My Emperor, excuse me for asking such a question, but how do we seal the alliance? After all, as it stands now, Persians, nor we, have no reason to respect this alliance, as it hasn''t been sealed yet."


    "My dear magister militum, I think you know well how alliances work. I have already promised my daughter, Roxane, to the Persian Shahanshah."


    The whole room was stunned. Most of them, at least. Some have already expected it, but the truth is that Heraclius hasn''t really told anyone, because of the value such an agreement held. Should it get out before both parties formally agreed to it, Heraclius didn''t know what could''ve happened.


    "But my Emperor, are you sure? She''s yourst daughter! Wouldn''t it be better to marry her off to the Franks or the Italians to strengthen the rtionship with them?"


    Heraclius looked firmly on Nicetas, who proposed such an outrageous idea.


    "My dear cousin, I believe she is my daughter, meaning I have the say about to whom I''ll marry her. And I decided for the Persian Shahanshah. I believe him to be the best choice. For both her and us."


    The whole room fell into silence. After a while, Philippicus and Nicetas left, and then so did the others. Heraclius stayed there, sitting on his throne, thinking. Thinking whether he really made the right choice.

 Chapter 65: To reclaim the jewel

    <h4>Chapter 65: To reim the jewel</h4>


    Yazdegerd was enjoying some fine wine and cheese, together with grapes and some chicken. He suddenly got an irresistible urge to eat something good. Maybe it was due to the stress he was under for thest few days. He felt as if the sky was about to fall, and he was the only one trying to hold it and prevent it from falling. After some minor confusion following the victory, ns were made and orders were given, and the Persians were marching to Hira. To reim the fallen jewel, to reim what was stolen from them.


    Yazdegerd ordered to take the Arab prisoners with them, just in case Arabs didn''t desert the ce. They coulde in handy as a ckmailing material. Maybe the city would fall without siege. Because costly siege was thest thing Yazdegerd, or any other general wanted.


    After two days long march, they arrived to Hira, to see it still upied by Arabs. Did they not get the message that the main force was defeated? Or perhaps they got the message together with an order to hold Hira. Yazdegerd had his royal tentid out, next tomander''s tent, as if preparing for a long and bloody siege. In his mind though, he just wanted to enjoy a bit offort and rxation.


    He was thinking about a lot of things. For starters, he thought about how this time of turmoil and war will end, fairly soon, just after capturing Hira. That presented the second trouble. He could just have siege engines built and let the city be stormed. And while that would provide a quick and fairly effective solution, it would be extremely bloody. And he didn''t want that. No one did. He couldn''t bear he feeling of guilt from such an order, especially not before meeting his Shahanshahbanu.


    At that thought, he rose up from the bed he was lying in, and went out of the tent in search of Rostam. He found him fairly quickly. He was in themander''s tent, together with general Jaduya, Piruz Khosrow and Jalinus. Andarzaghar was there, too. It looked like he incorporated himself fairly quickly. They were all sipping on wine and talking, most likely still about the recent achievement. The first one to notice Yazdegerd was the man in question, Rostam. He quicky stood up and bowed, greeting his Shahanshah. As the rest of them realized what was happening, they followed in suit. Yazdegerd waved his hand on them, to gesture that they could stop.


    "My Shahanshah, what brings you here?" asked Rostam in a bit of an embarrassed tone. Maybe he felt uneasy being caught partying in the middle of a day.


    "Initially, I wanted to speak only to you, my spahbed, but since I have the opportunity, I am announcing a meeting of themand staff of the Persian army. General Jalinus, general Khosrow, general Jaduya and general Andarzaghar,e too. I wish to speak with all of you. The more minds, the safer the solution."


    A bit perplexed, they all gathered around the table that stood in the tent, with Yazdegerd at the head.


    "My generals, today I need to discuss with you the inevitable capture of Hira. I have spent not one long night thinking and wondering at the right course of action. I have considered every option I could, from negotiating to bloody assault, but I wasn''t able to decide. I want your help with my indecision. We need to be decided by the time sun sets, so we can put the gears into motion."


    The lot of them looked on him, thinking deeply. The meeting burst into session and loud chatter erupted, while they were considering every detail, every pro and con and every small thing, exploring every possibility that could arise. In the end though, the only thing they were able to agree on is that straight on assault would end horribly. But what then? Negotiation? Trap? Or just in starvation? No, they couldn''t wait that long. They had to decide. But no progress came and they just ndly spoke and talked. But then, suddenly, Yazdegerd spoke up.


    "That''s enough. I hoped we coulde to a conclusion, but we got nowhere and time is running out. Let us send the Arabs a message containing the terms of surrender, guaranteeing them safe passage to theirnds. Should they ept, then we have nothing more to worry about. We will recapture the city, let the previous inhabitants back inside and that''s it. But should they refuse, which I fear is the more possible option, we would have no choice but to use a different strategy. We will use the weapon most cruel and most destructive. A weapon that is bound to break their spirits and crush their morale. A weapon that will make them hate us till the end of their lives. A necessary evil, if you will."


    Rostam, Bahman and Andarzaghar grimaced as they heard what the Shahanshah said. This all sounded all too familiar to them. This talk about necessary evil, a weapon cruel and most destructive. Rostam wondered, should his assumption be correct, where did that small child even heard of such tactics? But then, suddenly, his mind wandered into a thought that he feared. What if such line of thinking wasn''t Yazdegerd being influenced by someone, but rather his own mind that came up with such a n. But before jumping into conclusion, he had to confirm it. But he was interrupted before he could ask anything.


    "My spahbed, I see that you know what weapon I am talking about." said Yazdegerd with a forced smile. Rostam''s eyes widened.


    "My Shahanshah, you can''t-" shouted Rostam. Bahman and Andarzaghar were on the same page as him, while Piruz Khosrow and Jalinus were realizing what the young Shah was talking about.


    "I can''t? Why shouldn''t I? You should know very well what the Arabs caused ¨C not only to our country, but to our people and to us! Rostam, you should understand ¨C you were forced to leave your wife with you newborn child just to take part of this military campaign. No one knows when you''ll be able to see him for the first time. What they did to us, to our lives is unforgivable. But they won''t back down just after few defeats. They will retreat, maybe leave us for a while, but they will still think of us as a lion that is all roar and no bite. We have to show them that they were messing with the wrong lion. My will is absolute! We shallmence our n tomorrow. And ready the prisoners. Their fate will be decided by those in the city."

 Chapter 66: When negotiations fail

    <h4>Chapter 66: When negotiations fail</h4>


    The Arabs guarding the city walls started reporting that men of all kinds are being lined up in front of the Persian camp, fully in view of the city. They also reported the fact that Persians started to build siege engines, mainly catapults with some siege towers and battering rams. Rostam still didn''t like the idea, but that was due to his honourable personality. He as a spahbed saw the need for such methods. After all, of what use is honour to someone, when he lost everything including his own life? When his country is plunged in mes and when enemy raiders pige and plunder the nation? One may say that he fought with honour, but what does it help? It doesn''t change anything. And Rostam understood that. Everyone did ¨C the unfortunate circumstance forced them to.


    An envoy with clear message was sent ¨C if they surrender, they may leave and take half the prisoners with them. Should they resist, they shall be mercilessly yed. No in between. Yazdegerd was nervously walking in circles. Despite the grand speech he made and the decisiveness he showed, he still wasn''t entirely sure about it. But should they continue their bickering, they would get nowhere. He had to take the mantle of decision in the moment, not only to finally end the squabble, but also to enforce his authority. But was that the right decision? No one knew, but he had to make the most out of it. He steeled himself as he waited for the Arab response to the offer. And he was preparing for the worst.


    "My Shahanshah, the Arabs have sent an answer!"


    After a few hours, the messenger came back, bringing the answer from the defending Arabs. Yazdegerd''s heart started to beat much faster and he started sweating. Despite that, he made a stern expression and faced the news with courage. It was Jalinus who came to him, taking the message from the messenger to him.


    "Jalinus, just tell me, in simple terms. Yes or no?"


    Jalinus made a doubtful face but eventually answered. In simple terms.


    "No, my Shahanshah."


    Yazdegerd sighed. He somewhat knew this wasing. He couldn''t see the proud Arabs to stand down and retreat without a fight. Perhaps they even heard about the massacre at Al-Quadisiyyah, where the Arabs suffered a great defeat, so they wanted to avenge their fallen brothers. Ironic as it may be, given the fact that they''re the invaders here, the morale and n the Arabs had cannot be underestimated. s, Yazdegerd now had little choice as to what to do.


    "Prepare the captives and the siege engines. And call me when you have done that." Ordered Yazdegerd and promptly left. Jalinus simply abided by his orders.


    After an hour and a half, Yazdegerd was informed that everything is prepared. He steeled himself and ventured out of his tent, where he was resting. He couldn''t believe what he was about to do, at the minor age of 12. But, after all, he was responsible for far more lives than the years he could ever live. And, surprising himself, he coped with that responsibility much smoother and finer than before.


    He left the tent and made his way to the front of the encampment, which was facing the city. The prisoners were kneeling down in a line. There were a lot of them ¨C several hundred, perhaps even thousand. They all wore a simple white cloak and were handcuffed. Before them stood the magnificent siege engines, mainly catapults and trebuchets and few battering rams and siege towers.


    The Arabs on the walls were observing this tragedy with tearful expressions. Some of them started thinking that it would be better for them to surrender ¨C after all, the Persian demands were pretty light. But s, it wasn''t up to the soldiers and their officers andmanders had orders of their own ¨C the city couldn''t fall. They just would have to look away from the massacre that was about to happen. But then, one of the officers noticed something strange. The Persians had next to no rocks and stones, yet so many catapults and trebuchets. Something was wrong. But before they realized what was going on, it was toote.


    The first Arab prisoners were already flying through the air, sttering onto the walls, with few actually hitting the ramparts on the wall, killing and injuring the stationed soldiers. Seeing their friends and brothers beingunched through the air by the catapults and trebuchets and then being promptly sttered on the wall or the ramparts, they started panicking. The morale plummeted and the soldiers were terrified and traumatized by the sttered remains of their fellow soldiers. Needless to say, it didn''t take long for Arabs topletely surrender to Persians.


    After only half an hour of this bombardment, the Arabs surrendered. They sent an envoy who was pleading with the Persian spahbed, Rostam, to end this bloodshed. Rostam didn''t say anything and simply nodded, as he himself wasn''t very happy to do this. No one was. Only a psychopath would be happy tomit something like this. One could say Arabs deserved this, because they didn''t submit to their demands, but who were they to order anyone to surrender? After all, the same logic could apply to Persians. What really mattered was that all of this was part of a war the Arabs started, and while that didn''t mean they deserved such a massacre, it puts a part of the me on their shoulders.


    After Hira was captured, Yazdegerd sent for the people who originally called this ce home. Much had changed in Hira. Every Fire Temple was converted to a Mosque. The administrator''s house was made into a makeshiftmand centre. Although it would take a lot of work to rebuild Hira to the shining Pearl in the desert it once was, but that didn''t matter. All that mattered was the fact that Hira was in their hands, once again.

 Chapter 67: The Royal Journey

    <h4>Chapter 67: The Royal Journey</h4>


    "My Shahanshah, everything is ready."


    A servant came to Yazdegerd to inform him that the preparations areplete. Through courierwork, he arranged a meeting with the Roman Basileus, and his soon-to-be Shahanshahbanu. He was more excited than he thought. Perhaps those boyish feelings he held inside him, those he thought were lost and forgotten, were resurfacing within him, and he was looking forward to meeting an apparently beautiful girl of his age. He only ever heard stories of her ¨C as beautiful as an emerald, her eyes shining like a beacon, hair silky and soft, coloured like a chestnut. When hearing praise like that, no wonder he was excited. After all, since he was twelve now, it was normal for him to start gaining interest in girls. And whether that was a good or bad thing, that didn''t matter. He was happy and that was all that mattered. Perhaps the child inside him was really reappearing again.


    After getting back on track from his weird fantasies, he realized he still hasn''t dismissed the courier.


    "Thank you. I''ll be there soon. You''re dismissed."


    And how easy it was. Soon, he would begin the journey to Trebizond, where he is to meet with both Roman Emperor and his daughter, soon-to-be Yazdegerd''s Shahanshahbanu. But since he will be out of the country, he needs to arrange a few things. When Shahanshah leaves the country, it is customary to appoint a trusted official to rule until he arrives back. For example, one of his predecessors, Khosrow II. appointed his daughter, Boran, to rule when he was fighting the Romans merely 15 years ago. But since Yazdegerd had no descendant yet, he had to rely on someone from his retinue. For that reason, he set out and left his chambers, his guards immediately following him.


    He thought about leaving things to Rostam, because of his excellence when leading the troops during thetest battles, but despite Rostam being a great leader, with vast knowledge about logistics, military tactics and strategies, he knew how to lead an army. Not a country. Bahman Jaduya was too old, and, frankly, Yazdegerd didn''t believe the old general would want such a responsibility anyway. Right now, he was probably somewhere in hisvish house, enjoying the break he has. Although Yazdegerd wanted to initially bring him with him, as he thought he will prove useful during the meeting, in the end, Yazdegerd decided to contact Farrukhzad, his wuzurg framadar about him running things here while Yazdegerd is away.


    And that was where he was going right now. The nking of the guards armour basically signalized to Farruhkzad that his Shahanshah ising. Once the guard opened the door to his office, Farrukhzad was sitting behind his table, swiftly swinging with a quill as he was writing away. He quickly finished writingst letter while Yazdegerd sat down on a couch, and then he joined him.


    "Call us a servant, to bring us some wine and something to eat." Called Farrukhzad out to the guard, but Yazdegerd stopped him.


    "That won''t be necessary. I won''t remain for long. I just need to quickly discuss one issue and I''ll go. I have many things to arrange and organize."


    Farrukhzad was stunned for a while, but them he dismissed the soldier with a wave of his hand.


    "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, what brings you here, to my humble office?"


    "It is a delicate matter of utmost importance. As you already know, I am to depart in a matter of days to Trebizond, a Roman city, to meet with the Roman Emperor and my soon-to-be Shahanshahbanu. But I need someone to make sure nothing happens in my absence. I need you to take care of everything for me. Unless it needs my immediate presence, you are authorized to act in my name and my power. I will make sure the whole Empire knows that in my absence, you will act as my regent. Understood?"


    Farrukhzad was baffled. His usually dry humour was nowhere to be found, as he was overwhelmed by the sheer responsibility of this task. Yazdegerd knew that everyday life ruling a country isn''t as bad and tiresome as some imagine, and that the main issue are critical situations where your actions and decisions directly influence the oue. But Farrukhzad didn''t know that and the responsibility that came with this request was too big for him. Nevertheless, he bit his lip and epted, not knowing that this task will be far easier than he thinks.


    After about two days of organizing and arranging, Yazdegerd was ready to leave. For the first time in his life will he venture beyond the borders of his own Empire. He felt excited, like a little boy first time going to the nearby forest with his father. He rode in avish cart, with plenty of space to sleepfortably. They rode on the old highway, built in the ancient times by a great ruler named Darius. Now, it was maintained by both Persians and Romans, as it was an important trading route between the east and the west. They had several stops before them, including Damascus, the ancient Syriac city, or Cilicia and Ikonion, both fairly big cities, in which they were to resupply and continue their journey to Trebizond. Thankfully, the roads were all of high quality between the big cities, all properly maintained. With him rode Jalinus, Rostam and several other advisors, and, of course, his pushtigban, who were to never lose sight of him and his retinue. It was a big expedition, after all, one that is sure to attract attention, so security was tight, at least until they reached Trebizond. With that in mind, Yazdegerd departed, leaving his Empire in Farrukhzad''s hands.

 Chapter 68: In the Palace of the Black Sea

    <h4>Chapter 68: In the Pce of the ck Sea</h4>


    The journey to Trebizond was far less enjoyable than Yazdegerd thought. Despite the asional surge of happiness and enjoyment from crossing the border and discovering strange and foreign cities, he felt extremely bored on his long and tiresome journey. He often wanted to stop and enjoy the sights, although he himself knew that they have no time to lose. For example, in Damascus, he wanted to take a peek into the Cathedral of Saint George, as he was curious about how Christian cathedrals and temples looked like.


    Of course, because he was a powerful ruler of a neighbouring Empire, he was respected and treated honestly and well, even by Roman citizens. When they left the Royal highway and entered the centre of Anatolia, Yazdegerd felt as if the whole world changed. From the deserts, ins and generally t terrain out of nowhere arose towering mountains, rocky ridges and colourful valleys. He could swear he saw snow on some peaks ¨C which wasn''t an umon thing in Persia, but it was for Yazdegerd, as he saw snow only a few times in his life.


    Once they reached Ikonion, the biggest in the area and theirst stop before Trebizond, he was dumbfounded. The city was based on arge teau between the mountains, surrounded byrge walls and towers. It was clear that it guarded an important passage through the mountains and was treated ordingly. It''s not like he never saw a city this fortified. Istakhr, Susa or Ctesiphon were all cities that had multipleyers of huge defensive walls. But seeing it in a foreignnd and built in foreign architecture was charming at least, and astonishing at best.


    Once they arrived to Trebizond, he was even more astonished. The city was build on the side of a mountain overlooking the coast of ck Sea. The port was huge stretching far into the sea and along the coast. Many ships were docked there, and the port was obviously busy. After all, it was the biggest port on the ck Sea coast, the gate to the Roman Empire from Georgia, Crimea and the traitorous steppes. But what charmed Yazdegerd more was the ce where they were supposed to meet. The Pce of the ck Sea ¨C its construction was finished merely few years before, so it was still rtively new. It was built from white marble with ck ents, giving it a striking appearance against the blue waters of the sea. The pce hadrge windows and balkonies, offering spectacr views on the harbour and the sea. The entrance gate was gilded with gold and silver.


    Once they entered the city, they were immediately recognized by the guards at the entrance, who, already aware of their arrival, weed them, together with Bonus, who was supposed to guide them into the pce.


    "We wee you, your Excellency, in Trebizond. My name is Bonus, Basileus'' advisor. He is already awaiting your arrival, together with the princess, in the pce. Please, follow me, I will lead you into your chambers, where you can rest. But before that, I believe my Basileus wants to have some word with you first. Is that possible?"


    "I thank you, Bonus, for your hospitality. Of course, I will meet with your Emperor dly."


    Bonus simply smiled and lead the way through the city in his cart. Yazdegerd and his retinue followed through the bustling city, attracting attention from everyone around. People wondered who was inside thevish carriage that rode through the city with such argepany. Most of them didn''t even knew who ruled Persia, so it was no wonder they wouldn''t even imagine a small boy being the rich and powerful person in the cart. Yazdegerd enjoyed the sights despite the circle of pushtigban on horses surrounding his cart. The city was bustling with people andmerce. Yazdegerd heard a the people speaknguage which he could swear was just strange Greek. Most likely a local ent, he thought. He could read most of the writings that were on signs and walls.


    As they closed in on the pce, they entered more noble part of the city. Buildings here, built in a typical Mediterranean style with terraces were big and tall, though very few of them could be called a pce. Perhaps vi would be more fitting description. The road was also noticeably smoother, which was no wonder. The pce itself became bigger and bigger as they neared it.


    Once they arrived into the courtyard, Yazdegerd''s carriage stopped right after Bonus''. His servants then opened the door for him, and he left the carriage, happy that the long journey is over. The pce was certainly big, especially considering the fact that it wasn''t the main royal pce. Large gardens could be seen from the sides of the pce, as well as fountains, exotic nts and other decorations. Bonus approached Yazdegerd, who was still recovering a bit from the ride and bowed.


    "Your excellency, wee to the Pce of the ck Sea. I shall guide you and your closestpany to your chambers."


    "That would be wee, as I am tired from the journey. Thank you." Answered Yazdegerd in the best Greek he could muster.


    "You''re wee, your excellency."


    It didn''t seem like Bonus knew Persian, so Yazdegerd felt a bit relieved. He called to Rostam toe with him and ordered the servants to lead the horses to the stables and to park the carriages somewhere. Bonus then ordered some of the pce servants to show the Persian ones where the stables are and where they can park the carriages.


    "Very well, follow me." Said Bonus as Yazdegerd, Rostam and 4 pushtigban members started to follow him. Yazdegerd turned to Rostam in the meantime to ask him few questions.


    "So, what do you think, Rostam?"


    "The city is well fortified and very defensible, both from surface and sea."


    Yazdegerd smiled. It was like Rostam, to instantly think about military-rted things.


    "I meant what do you think about the Romans? The meeting? Your overall thoughts?"


    Rostam looked like he was thinking deeply about it for a moment, but then he answered.


    "I haven''t noticed anything off. The pce seems to be in a good state, and they show their hospitability well. Bonus also seems like decent and reasonable man."


    Yazdegerd simply nodded as they walked down the pce corridor, attracting attention from many servants and courtiers. Yazdegerd was wearing his finest robe, embroidered with silk and golden threads to create a golden symbol of simurgh, a mythological symbol of Persia. On his head rested purely formal, yet still good-looking and respect imposing crown of his own. The crown was made of light metal, only covered in goldyer and iid with some less-precious gemstones. It was made to look like the ceremonial crown as much as possible, but to remain practical and easy to wear.


    Bonus led them into a richly decorated chamber that could be prepared only for one person from Yazdegerd''s group. Yazdegerd looked over the room, pleasantly surprised at how much he likes this room. Bonus then lead Rostam to his own room and then showed the four pushtigban members themon room they will share. After that, he came back, followed by Rostam, to talk to Yazdegerd.


    "Your excellency, I hope you will enjoy your stay and the hospitality of my Basileus. Now, before I go, I mentioned that my Basileus wants to meet with you first, before the meeting itself. Would that be possible?"


    "Of course. Come back to me in about three hours, so I can rest a bit, and take me to him. Oh, and, could you send for some servants? We''d like some refreshments."


    "Of course, your excellency. I wille in three hours. Make yourselffortable until then."


    With those words, Bonus left, leaving Yazdegerd and Rostam alone for a while. Rostam immediately called two of the pushtigban members they had with them and searched Yazdegerd''s room thoroughly for any hidden mechanism or traps. After all, one can''t be too cautious, even if hosted by their soon-to-be allies.


    After a while, the servants came with some refreshments, just as Yazdegerd asked. He also told them to bring the pushtigban members some too. As he enjoyed the food and drinks, three hours passed in a blink of an eye and Bonus knocked on the door.


    "Your excellency, my Basileus is awaiting you in his chambers. Shall we?"


    "Of course. Surely his Highness won''t mind if I bring Rostam with me, right?" answered Yazdegerd, gesturing to Rostam that he shoulde with him.


    "I believe he won''t. Very well, follow me."


    Bonus led them, once again, through a long corridor, until they reached what was without a doubt an entrance to Heraclius'' chambers. As they neared the entrance Yazdegerd felt himself be more and more tense. Sweat poured down from his forehead. He could feel himself be hotter and hotter. Then suddenly, Rostam put his hand on his shoulder and simply smiled. That small gesture helped Yazdegerd calm down. He cleared his mind and started thinking rationally once again.


    As the huge door opened, richly decorated room with sculptures, statues and paintings greeted them. Inside, an amply dressed man with a crown sat on upholstered silk chair, in front of him stood a table covered with jugs containing wine, tes decorated with cheese, meat and fruit. Then there stood a solitary ss of honey, together with a spoon.


    As the man noticed the visitors, he promptly stood up and greeted them, as if they were old friends.


    "Greetings, Yazdegerd, Emperor of Persia. How do you say it? Shahanshah, right? I am sorry, for I know very little Persian."


    Yazdegerd simply stood there, stunned by how casual he was with him.


    "Oh, I hope I wasn''t being too informal. I thought that since we are allies now, we could skip those boring steps of formality, and start off as friends. What do you say?"


    Rostam eyed Heraclius sternly, but Yazdegerd simply smiled. He actually quite liked this idea. No need to bother with formal introductions or speech. Let''s just talk, like friends. All three of them sat down on thefortable chairs.


    "So let''s begin again." Said Heraclius with a smile. "I am Heraclius, Roman Basileus. You are in my pce, but feel free to treat it like your second home."


    "I am Yazdegerd, Persian Shahanshah. And this is Rostam, my spahbed. I think in Greek you call that position ''magister militum.''"


    Rostam bowed and mumbled "Greetings." In broken Greek.


    "Forgive him, for he isn''t well-versed in yournguage."


    "It''s quite alright. But who is well-versed in Greek is you, Yazdegerd. It surprised me how fluent your Greek is. You even have proper pronunciation. Truly a weed surprise."


    "Weed? How so?"


    Heraclius made a difficult expression, loudly inhaled and exhaled and then looked Yazdegerd right in the eyes.


    "I suppose it''s time we talk about why we are both here. You see, I had my daughter, Roxane, learn Persian so she couldmunicate better with you. But, seeing how you are bilingual at least, it now looks like a wasted effort."


    Yazdegerd was confused.


    "Wasted effort? It''s never a waste to learn a newnguage."


    Heraclius chuckled. "You''re right. But the issue was that she hated it. She hated, and most likely still hates the very concept of arranged marriage. And I, a failure of a father, had promised her that should she not like you, I will call the marriage off. Of course, I would never do that, but I just felt like you should know. Because you will be the man she will spend the remainder of her life with. And because we are allies."


    Yazdegerd was simply startled by the words that ran and ran from Heraclius'' mouth. He talked about his daughter and how he failed as a father more than anything else until now.


    "I just hope you aren''t offended by all this. I just have a weak spot for her, and I hope it won''t interfere in the marriage proceedings."


    Yazdegerd wasn''t sure what to say and sought wisdom and advice from Rostam, who couldn''t engage in the conversation, so he observed the surroundings. Yazdegerd exined quickly what Heraclius told him. Rostam thought for a while, but then answered.


    "While normally this would be preposterous, you yourself have no issues with that, right? I say let us greet his excellency halfway and also behave like friends. It doesn''t hurt anything, and as long as the alliance goes through, what else matters?"


    Yazdegerd let his head swallow Rostam''s words. He watched Heraclius be visibly nervous. But Rostam was right. It doesn''t matter what deals and promises Heraclius gave his daughter, nor does truly matter his rtionship with her, or even what she thinks of the marriage. It doesn''t matter, for world doesn''t work that way. Individual wants and desires are put away in favour of things that benefit the whole nation. While the marriage may not please the individuals involved, it will strengthen both nations, thus creating a worthy arrangement. And Yazdegerd understood that ever since he began ruling. That he''ll have to put his needs and desires away for the benefit of the nation. It was all a daily routine for him at this point.


    Yazdegerd smiled on the nervous Heraclius. He was surprised how trustful he was, showing such weakness to a man he just met. Or perhaps he simply calcted the risks.


    "I see no issue. As long as the marriage proceeds ordingly, I do not think of it as a problem."


    Heraclius slumped as the tension disappeared from his body.


    "Thank you, Yazdegerd. I am d I gave my daughter to you."


    After they discussed the important, they began talking about other, less important and formal things. Yazdegerd saw in Heraclius a friendly and talkative man. He believed they could be good friends, which he very much endorsed. They drank some wine and ate whatever was on the table. After a few hours, Heraclius became a bit drunk, and it seemed that he became more and more talkative the more he drank. He started tomunicate with Rostam, who was still there, sitting, quietly drinking his cup of wine. Heraclius, in his drunken madness, started to teach Rostam some basic Greek. Although the words he used couldn''t be described as "basic," it had a sense of heartfulness from Heraclius, as he wanted to bring Rostam into the conversation.


    Not long after that, Bonus returned, probably to check on not only the group itself, but mostly on Heraclius. When he saw the state in which he was, he urged him to go to sleep. Yazdegerd and Rostam, both also fairly tired, supported Bonus and the discussion was over. Before they left, Bonus wanted ast word with them.


    "Your excellency, a moment, please. Do you want me to send servants to wake you up for breakfast, or do you have other preference?"


    "No, it''s quite alright. Just send a servant."


    "Very well. Another thing. The meeting with the princess will take ce during lunch. Is that alright?"


    "It''s perfect. Thank you, Bonus."


    "My pleasure, your excellency. Have a good night."


    With those words, Bonus left, leaving Yazdegerd and Rostam alone.


    "Do you want me to wake you up tomorrow morning?" asked Yazdegerd in a jest.


    Rostam chuckled. "I''ll be up before those servants even reach your room."


    "So, your thoughts on the Basileus?" asked Yazdegerd, now fairly serious.


    "He seemed like a trustworthy man. The type I like. He was also very jovial, and talkative. I think he''s a good man. And he''ll definitely be a good friend."


    "I was surprised by how friendly he was. I wonder if his daughter will be the same." Said Yazdegerd in a quiet voice. Despite that, Rostam heard him and chuckled. "Already thinking about your destined one? Heh."


    Yazdegerd felt a bit embarrassed, but despite that, he was calm. He was surprised by this.


    "You should work on your Greek a bit. You can''t be friends with our new ally other way." Said Yazdegerd to repay Rostam''s joke. Rostam simply smiled. They reached Yazdegerd''s room.


    "Well then, have a good sleep, Rostam. I hope you will be ready to stand as mypany during the meeting."


    "Of course I will, my Shahanshah. Have a good night."


    And with that, they both went to sleep, preparing for what was toe.

 Chapter 69: Meeting with destiny

    <h4>Chapter 69: Meeting with destiny</h4>


    He was in some kind of stone mansion. He didn''t recognize it, but he felt as if he saw something very simr before. But this mansion waspletely empty. Without any furniture or servant in sight. Despite that though, it was cleaned and obviously taken care of. And, for some reason, Yazdegerd wasn''t afraid. He knew well that being in an unknown environment should invoke fear, but he felt everything but fear. As he walked down the unknown corridors, he realized something. He realized that he knew this mansion ¨C this pce. It was his own pce, in Istakhr, where he was held imprisoned and where he began his rule.


    As he glossed over his past during the walk, he stumbled upon the stairs leading to the subterrain part of the pce ¨C the part where the pce prison was situated in. He remembered the struggles he faced during his imprisonment. But now that he thinks about it, perhaps he viewed it differently as a child, and it would be much less bearable now than it was at the time. The cell he was held in was actually quite nice. It wasn''t formon rubble and ruffians, those were in the city jail. The cells in the pce were meant for political prisoners. They hadfortable beds, ess to toilet and bath and three good meals a day.


    When he reached the cells, they were all closed and locked. Apart from one cell. One singr cell was open, instead of being closed. And Yazdegerd realised it was the very cell he was held in. Sweat rushed from him, but he didn''t know why. He felt fear and anxiousness, but he didn''t know from what. He looked around him frantically until nausea kicked in and he felt himself copsing.


    He woke up, sweating and breathing frantically. It was early in the morning, perhaps six or seven. He could hear faint footsteps as the pce servants attended their early duties. He could also hear some kind of metal-like sounds very close. Most likely his pushtigban, struggling to stay awake. He looked out of the window. The sun was just rising, the reddish shine enveloping him and the whole pce. The clouds turned red from the sunrays and the sky looked both menacing and beautiful at the same time. Some cultures and religions considered this to be a bad omen, while some considered it a good omen. And Yazdegerd? He couldn''t care less at the moment, thinking about the weird dream he had. Why was he there, back in Istakhr? And what was it supposed to mean, that only his cell was open while the others were closed? He didn''t know. He couldn''t know. And he realized it doesn''t matter. He had a big day in front of him, a big event to take care of, something that would shape his life, his whole world for decades toe. He didn''t have time nor energy to think about some weird dream he had.


    As he made up his mind about what truly matters and was back on the right track, he decided to go outside. When they arrived, he saw a huge garden enveloping the pce, and he wanted to properly explore it while he had the chance. Each and every pce garden was different. He knew that very well and that is one of the reasons he wanted to take a look at it ¨C simple curiosity. The other one was, well, that he simply wanted to go somewhere where he could rx, take a breath of fresh air and think about things properly.


    It was decided. He put on his other robe, less formal and lessvish. It was something any noble would wear. The other robe he had was the formal one, the one in which he arrived and the one in which he would attend the meeting. He scratched his stubble that was starting to grow nicely thanks to some ointments he used daily. He went outside of his room, which startled the guards, as they didn''t expect him to be awake so early. He told them they can be at ease and that they can return to their room. Both of them insisted that at least one should go with him, but he told them off. And what can they do against the word of their liege?


    He left the pce through some side entrance to which he asked directions from servants. Their Pontic ent was still strange to grasp for Yazdegerd, but he couldmunicate with them well enough. Through the side entrance he ended up being instantly in the garden. It seems the servants that he asked didn''t tell him to go through here just for the sake of it. The garden was beautiful, with all sorts and manners of exotic flowers, trees and bushes. Of course, next to them were themon nts, such as roses or orchids. He was especially charmed by the fountain enveloped by a huge flower field he saw in the back of the garden.


    As he made his way there, he noticed the serene atmosphere the whole garden had. There was no life ¨C other than the nts, of course. He could hear some birds chirping and some cicadas that were especially obnoxious, but other than that ¨C nothing. No humans, mainly. He found this strange, but not enough to think about it for too long. As he reached the fountain, he realized it was truly beautiful. Made of polished marble, at the centre stood a statue of two-headed eagle, an emblem of the Byzantine Empire. The ws and the beak were made of gold, or at least covered with it, which made the statue seem more majestic. As he observed the fountain and absorbed the atmosphere, his mind started to calm down. He suddenly felt more rxed and much more at ease. Theing responsibilities as if weren''t there. As if he didn''t have any important meetings, no responsibilities and no things he needed to take care of. Nothing. Just him, the bustling sound of water, smell fresh morning air and sounds of cicadas and birds chirping.


    Suddenly, he heard footsteps. He turned around, still rxed and at ease. He recognized the man. Bonus was his name, if he remembered correctly. He simply looked at him, until he came closer.


    "Beautiful garden, isn''t it? I see you already uncovered its true charms, my excellency."


    "That''s right, Bonus. When I arrived yesterday, I was already curious to see this garden for myself. It didn''t let me down, that''s for sure."


    "No offense, my excellency, but I wouldn''t expect you to be awake so early. It has surprised me."


    "I wouldn''t normally be. It''s just that all the things happening around me, all these responsibilities, everything has piled on me so much that I needed to clear my mind somewhere. I thought the garden should serve well for this purpose ¨C and it did."


    "I understand you. Each time I visit this magnificent pce, I always go here at least once per visit, if not more. This kind of serene atmosphere is very rare. Not every pce garden has it."


    "I agree, but I''d say the pce garden back in Istakhr was very simr, albeit perhaps smaller. But I wasn''t there for several years now, so perhaps my memory doesn''t serve me well."


    Bonus smiled. "Are you prepared for today, your excellency?"


    This question caught Yazdegerd by surprise. He felt a bit embarrassed. "I believe I am. As in, I know my goal and purpose. I know what I have to do and mainly what I want to do."


    Bonus looked Yazdegerd straight in the eyes. "I am not sure what kind of banter did you have yesterday with my Basileus, but knowing him, he probably told you about her highness'' feelings, and how she is strictly against marriage. Am I right?"


    Yazdegerd simply nodded.


    "Well then, I wanted to tell you that she may look forward to the meeting much more than she lets others see. By arge margin. I hope it puts you at ease at least a bit."


    Yazdegerd was stunned by Bonus'' words and simply stared at him.


    "Well, I now have to take my leave. Take care, your excellency. Meeting will begin in several hours, around twelve. Be sure to be ready. Farewell, for now."


    With those words, Bonus simply left Yazdegerd in the gardens with lots to think about.


    --


    After remaining in the gardens for another half an hour or so, he returned to his room, where Rostam was already waiting for him. He told him that pce servants have prepared a bath for him, and that he should go. For some reason, Yazdegerd was really looking forward to the bath. Perhaps he wanted another kind of rxation as well. And so right as he arrived, he also left. He was there for an hour at least. He most likely fell asleep in there, but after the hour or so he got out and returned, reinvigorated and ready. He felt as if he weighted nothing. As if he suddenly became light as a feather. He was ready and prepared for everything today would throw at him.


    It was around eleven hours in the morning. The meeting was supposed to begin in a short while. Yazdegerd was inside of his room, waiting until Bonus and Rostame and pick him. He wore his finest royal tunic with intricate embroidery made from silk. On the tunic he had a long robe, on which was embroidered Derafsh Kaviani, a symbol of Sassanid Empire. On his neck he had a ne with a beautiful ruby along with some smaller sapphires and emeralds ¨C all from Badakshan, mined and manufactured in the Empire. On his head he had his formal crown, simply to show off his authority as a foreign ruler.


    He walked from one corner of the room to another, clearly nervous. Not even morning walk and bath didn''t help in the end. Or perhaps they did, and it would''ve been much worse if it wasn''t for the rxation he did prior. After a while, he heard a knock to his room. It was exactly who he expected ¨C Rostam and Bonus, both already clothed amply for the asion. Rostam also wore an embroidered tunic with a robe ¨C albeit slightly shorter than what Yazdegerd had ¨C to show his loyalty and subordination. Bonus wore some typical Greek robe, not decorated much, only its hems had golden threads embroidered into them.


    They walked through the hallways into the ceremonial hall ¨C which was supposedly the biggest hall in the pce. Huge doors fit for the ceremonial purposes of the hall were opened before them. Yazdegerd found himself much more and more sweating. He was extremely nervous all of a sudden. He took deep breaths as he tried to calm down. He peeked into the huge hall, and saw many people inside. Most of them were servants, but could swear that there were also some curious couriers that sneaked inside, wanting to see what''s going on. He also saw someone very familiar. Someone he saw few years back. It was Jabh ibn Al-Aiham, the one who visited him when he was still in Istakhr and brought him this proposition. It felt like an eternity already. So much has happened since then.


    Heraclius noticed him before Yazdegerd could see the one person he was truly looking for. Rostam patted his shoulder which made him snap back into reality. He could see Heraclius saying something to the man next to him. A herald, most likely, thought Yazdegerd. An echoing, sharp and loud voice proved him right, as the herald blew his trumpet and announced their arrival. Yazdegerd looked around only to see that Bonus has somehow evaporated.


    "Please, wee, his excellency Yazdegerd III., Basileus of all Iranians, Persian Shahanshah. And with him, Rostam Farrokhzad, Persian magister militum!"


    Yazdegerd felt strangely embarrassed. This was the first time he did any of this and it felt so weird and so strange. He walked forward to greet Heraclius and Jabh, and then promptly wait for the one person he wanted to meet.


    "Your excellency, wee. I hope you are enjoying your stay so far." Spoke Jabh with a smile. It seems he was also happy to see the young ruler after such a long time. "You have grown up to be a respectable young man. I am happy to see that."


    "King Jabh, my honor. Why, are you implying that I wasn''t a respectable boy when we met?" Asked Yazdegerd with a taste of irony.


    "If you ask me now, I have to say I was impressed with your Greek at the time. I see you grasped the opportunity and improved even more."


    "Well, I say that''s only polite, considering the status of our nations." Answered Yazdegerd with a carefree expression.


    "Are you saying I am not polite, Yazdegerd? Maybe I should show my impoliteness more and pour you sour wine and oversalted meat, what do you say?" Said Heraclius as he squeezed himself into the conversation. Yazdegerd and Jabh bothughed.


    "Oh, but Yazdegerd, don''t worry. Princess speaks both Greek and Persian very well, or so I''ve heard." Said Jabh, and Heraclius agreed. "Aye, I had her take lessons on Persiannguage every day since the agreement."


    "So over six years, huh..." Said Yazdegerd, bit lost in thought.


    "It''s a bit early to be so lost in your own imagination. You''ve yet to see her, young man." Said Heraclius, now with aforting smile. "She''ll be here in a while. You will sit together at the head of the table. This meeting will serve as a formal and public promation of the engagement. That''s why all those people are here ¨C because of what use are public promations when there''s no public to see them. But don''t worry, these are all people I trust. Just rx, drink some wine if it helps you and be yourself."


    It was almost unbelievable how quickly could Heraclius transform both his speech, but also his mindset. Just a second ago he was all fun and games, joking andughing, but all of a sudden he started being serious and ushered some good advice to Yazdegerd, who simply stood there, stunned. He looked at the table. And indeed, at the head of the table stood two particr chairs, seemingly different from the others. They had their handrails and backrest gilded and padded. For some reason though, there was no surge of nervosity or anxiousness, only of pure anticipation.


    He returned to Rostam, deciding to simply enjoy the asion while he could. Because he knew that his heart wouldn''t let himter.


    --


    The loud shouting of court herald startled him. His crown jumped in his head as he did. He looked around to see Heraclius looking at him, gesturing for him toe there. And so, Yazdegerd stood up and left the table to go see Heraclius. The herald kept shouting something incoherent to Yazdegerd. Must''ve been that weird ent. But then, the herald began to speak coherently and crisply.


    "Please wee, her highness of the Roman Empire, daughter of our Basileus, Princess Roxane!"


    The doors started to open. Heraclius patted Yazdegerd on his shoulder and said "Here you have her. Good luck."


    Yazdegerd''s heart started to race. His palms were sweaty all of a sudden and he felt like he would keel over. But the sudden surge of emotions were quickly over him, and once the doors fully opened, only a handsome young gentleman stood there. First entered guards, who stared menacingly from under their helmets. Yazdegerds guards that were also present in the room also stood alerted. But Yazdegerd was interested in the person who walked in after the guards. He saw a white-clothed silhouette emerging from behind the guards. Her long, chestnut hair shone through the veil she had on her head. She had beautiful emerald eyes, prettier than any gemstone. Her petite figure could be seen even through her dress. Yazdegerd heard many times that he would be charmed by her appearance, but he didn''t understood how much. Now everything was clear. It was as if a whole new world appeared in front of him. A world he didn''t yet understand, but wanted to at all costs.


    She walked gracefully towards him and Heraclius, dragging her gown behind her. On her head sat a tiara iid with gemstones of all kinds.


    He straightened his back and stood tall, looking straight in her eyes, smiling. As she closed in, he knelt in front of her, taking her hand and kissing it.


    "Wee, your highness. I am Yazdegerd III., Basileus of all Iranians, Shahanshah of Persia. I am pleased to finally meet you."


    The height difference was quite obvious. One could say it is due to the age difference ¨C after all, Yazdegerd was about two and a half years older, but for the matter, he was also taller than your average twelve year old. Heraclius was only head taller and Bonus was only slightly taller. Can''tpare with Rostam, who was also incredibly tall. But Yazdegerd noticed, as he stood up, that she barely reached to his neck, so he had to lean forward just to look at her. But he didn''t mind.


    "Thank you, your excellency. I too am happy to meet you."


    Yazdegerd smiled at her, all tension disappearing from his body. Heraclius, who stood beside them the whole time chuckled and invited them to the table. And so, the meeting began.

 Chapter 70: Remember the human

    <h4>Chapter 70: Remember the human</h4>


    Sitting beside her, Yazdegerd observed servants putting the food on the table. The appetizer was a yoghurt dip with grated cucumber and some garlic. Yazdegerd remembered seeing this dish before. He recalled it was called tzatziki. The main course included several dishes, such as souki, roastedmb and stuffed vegetables. For dessert, Yazdegerd snatched the first bava he saw, stuffing himself with it. In a polite manner, of course. Once in a while, he looked beside him, only to see Roxane eating gracefully, enjoying the meal.


    The meal finished without any incident. Yazdegerd saw how ufortable Rostam was in the beginning, but once the food got on the table, he was too engrossed by it. Everyone talked and watched the servants as they cleaned the tables and brought the used dishes back into the kitchen, with Rostam enjoying the afterglow of a good meal, but staying ever vignt. It must''ve been hard on him, in an unfamiliar environment, in and whose tongue he did not understand.


    Yazdegerd was enjoying himself much more than he anticipated, and much more than he would admit. But still, the atmosphere of the feast was something he surprisingly found pleasurable, despite the fact that this was supposed to be a stressful meeting. Of course, this blissful atmosphere couldn''tst for long, as there still were official matters to settle. Heraclius nodded to Yazdegerd so that he would notice and understand what was about to happen. Yazdegerd steeled himself, somehow took control over the pounding muscle they call heart and stood up. Then, he knelt and stretched his hand towards the still-sitting Roxane, who was perplexed by his action at the start, but apparently caught up pretty quick.


    They went, hand in hand, right after Heraclius, who was standing in a sort of centre of the room. It was the part that was made for announcements. People around them saw themotion and soon, they had the attention of the whole hall, without even doing anything. But soon after that, the pce herald announced the whole affair.


    "Esteemed guests, courtiers, officials, nobles and aristocrats, all important people of the Empire. We have gathered here today on behalf of our Basileus, His Majesty Heraclius, together with an important guest and our greatest ally, His Excellency Shahanshah Yazdegerd of the Sassanid Empire. Now, His Majesty will speak."


    As the herald''s cry ended, silence befell the hall, but was quickly changed with the deep voice of Heraclius.


    "Important guests, today, I, your Basileus, Heraclius, would like to announce that the bond between The Roman Empire and Iranian Empire has been forged. As of today, I announce the engagement between my youngest daughter, Roxane, and the Sassanid Emperor, Yazdegerd III. Let us wish them only the best, both for them, but also for us, and let us hope further cooperation with the Persians will be pursued."


    pping befell the room, sound of people expressing their agreement. Yazdegerd felt extremenly anxious as he waved with his free hand on the people. Without noticing, his clutch of Roxane''s hand became even tighter throughout the speech. Not painfully so, but noticeably. His smile was somewhere between natural and forced, as he was happy about the whole affair, but was extremely embarrassed. Unsurprisingly.


    He saw that Rostam was also in the crowd, chatting with a man around Rostam''s age. Heraclius sent him a trantor it seemed. Then, Rostam looked on Yazdegerd with the softest smile he ever made. Yazdegerd simply smiled back.


    After a while, themotion ended. People were returning to their seats, some were outright leaving, but Yazdegerd and Roxane stayed. Of course they did, the whole event was about them. Heraclius and some other apparently important people joined them at the table, without Rostam, who went outside to get some fresh air. They talked a lot, but mainly about Yazdegerd. He was constantlyplimented for hisnguage, histest sess in the war and, among other things, how such a young man can rule such arge nation. Yazdegerd answered all questions andpliments with honesty and graciousness, even though he knew most of them wanted to get on his good side. What he noticed and was most interested in, though, was the curious nces Roxane has been giving him the whole conversation.


    After about an hour, the feast officially ended. Those who were able to go back to their rooms on their own did, and those who were too drunk to walk got help from some servants and guards. In the end, only Heraclius, Yazdegerd, Roxane and Rostam, who arrivedter, remained.


    "Care to go out on a terrace? The moon should be beautiful by now." Offered Heraclius. No one really had any reason to decline.


    "We might as well. Perhaps even your moon will be different from ours. I have seen so many new things today..." smiled Yazdegerd.


    "Of course our moon is the same as yours, you moron." Laughed Heraclius, who was a bit drunk. They arrived on a fairlyrge terrace, from where one could see both the ck sea, but also the mountains overlooking Trebizond.


    "Beautiful." Proimed Yazdegerd. Roxane simply nodded in agreement, and Heraclius and Rostam stayed silent, enjoying the view. They talked for a while, Yazdegerd busy tranting for Rostam. Eventually, Heraclius stood up from the stool he was sitting on, reinvigorated.


    "Well, I say we go for another drink. What do you say?" he scanned the people present, looking mainly on Rostam. Yazdegerd shook his head and exined to Rostam what Heraclius said. Rostam simply smiled and also stood up. They both left,ughing for some reason. And so, only Yazdegerd and Roxane were left on the terrace, alone.


    "Your father is a talkative one, isn''t he? It wasn''t how I imagined him to be, but perhaps it is better this way."


    "He isn''t like that all the time, though."


    "Really? How is he normally then?"


    Roxane hesitated a bit, as if deciding whether she should tell him. But eventually, she spoke up.


    "He is usually very calm and collected. At meetings, he only ever puts up a stern face and speaks with an iron will. It''s only with few people that he acts this way. And, also, when he''s drunk." At thosest words, she chuckled a bit. Yazdegerd smiled, thinking it was cute.


    "So I am one of the ''chosen ones'', am I?" heughed.


    Roxane smiled and nodded. Silence befell these two, with none of them seemingly knowing what to say. But, after a while, Roxane mustered enough courage to speak up.


    "And what about your parents? Did they send you alone or what?"


    Yazdegerd was perplexed by this question. It awoke some kind of emotion within him. It wasn''t as if he mourned his parents ¨C he didn''t even remember his mother, and he saw his father like once or twice in his life. He didn''t remember them very well.


    "Did your father not tell you? I have no parents."


    Roxane''s expression turned sour. She felt like she just stepped on a wound that would never heal, but Yazdegerd didn''t share that sentiment. For him, the wound was never there.


    "I''m sorry, I didn''t know..."


    "Don''t be. I don''t even remember them, much less feeling sad about losing them." He smiled, as if to convey his reassurance more. He really didn''t want her to feel sorry, or guilty.


    "So you rule alone? I always thought my father meant that you are an heir."


    Yazdegerdughed.


    "Yes, I rule alone. I myself am the Shahanshah of the Empire of all Iranians. I rule this Empire from my age of six. You see, I was born to an unfortunate pair. My mother was most likely amoner, but my father was the brother of then-Shahanshah, which made me worthy enough to be considered an heir to the throne. Most other descendants died, so they didn''t really have a choice but to have me take the throne." Heughed. "At first, my aunt was ruling as a sort of a regent, while I was being kept in a jail from when I was four. I don''t really think she ever had any intention of passing the throne to me when I was of age, but I digress. She was murdered a few months after I turned six. The culprit? No one knows, and at the time no one cared enough to investigate." His face turned more serious, his expression stiffened. "You see, the Empire was in a horrible, decentralized state. Nobles, factions and other people with even a speck of influence were vying over the power over the Empire, and the ruler was unable to do anything. That was why they didn''t care that my aunt was murdered. Perhaps they were even happy that, instead of her, a six year old will be ruling them. But, here we are now."


    He smiled as he concluded his story. Roxane''s expression was that of someone interested and listening intently. He looked at her, a bit embarrassed for some reason. Perhaps he felt as if he was boasting.


    "So you rule...pletely alone? Even though your basically the same age as me?"


    "That''s how it is sometimes. Sadly, I wasn''t so fortunate to have a loving father beside me. Now that I think about it, there was no one who I could call a parent of sorts. But it didn''t matter. It doesn''t matter. I have already learned that a good ruler must not let his emotions get better of him. And that he has to steel himself no matter the circumstances."


    The smile on his face appeared forced. The sad, painful emotions he so suddenly let appear didn''t want to go away.


    "But isn''t that sad?"


    This question threw Yazdegerd off.


    "Sad?"


    "I mean, holding your emotions in. Not letting them show. That in itself is sad, isn''t it?"


    Sad? Is that sad? But a good ruler had to be strong, right? He had to be stern and not show any weakness. Right? Isn''t that right?


    "I''m afraid that it doesn''t work that way in the real world. I am sure even Heraclius doesn''t show his emotions when talking with his subjects on official meetings."


    "You''re right about that. But when he is with friends, with people he trusts, he shows more emotions than a normal human exactly because of that. Why do you not do the same? I feel like you''re holding yourself back this whole time."


    "Because..." because I have to be a good ruler. Because I can''t show any weakness. Because I am... afraid. Afraid of not being epted. Afraid of denial. Afraid of losing those I cherish the most. Afraid of myself.


    The dam holding Yazdegerd''s emotions had just been broken by a few words from his fianc¨¦. He never thought of things this way. Always wanting to keep the best profile, to look as a great ruler and to never show any sign of weakness or attachment. But thanks to that, he was slowly losing the thing most precious to him ¨C his own humanity. He didn''t have to always think as a ruler. He didn''t have to always be ahead, always worry about his responsibilities. Sometimes, it was okay, and even best to just live like a normal twelve-year-old would. He didn''t have to make his whole life about one thing.


    He understood and realized a lot of things. One of them was also the fact that he wasn''t alone. He realized that Rostam, Farrukhzad, Jalinus, Bahman and other, they were more than mere subjects. More than simply people he ruled over. They were also his friends and people he cherished.


    Tears rolled from his eyes down his cheek. He felt embarrassment, crying right in front of his fianc¨¦. He also felt shame and sadness, but most of all he felt relief. Relief over the realization that he wasn''t alone and that he had people he could rely on. And also the fact that this list of people had just been extended.


    It wasn''t as if he wailed. It allsted only a few seconds. A few droplets of tears rolled down his face and that was it. But the impact it had on him was much bigger than it seemed. He calmed down quickly, put his head in his palms and breathed deeply. Roxane was simply watching him with a smile.


    "You know, I feel like I should thank you. I am not sure how to deal with the feelings I have right now, but I am sure that''s a positive thing."


    "It was nothing. Have a good night."


    "Have a good night, Roxane."


    As Yazdegerd was leaving, he seemed to be a bit reluctant. Just before the exit he turned around.


    "And, I never really got to say this the whole day, but you looked really good in that dress. Stunning even." As he said that, he smiled and then turned and went away. Roxane was left there,pletely red in her face.


    After a while, Heraclius returned, without Rostam. It seemed like he sobered a bit.


    "Yazdegerd has left already? No worries then. So, tell me, my dear, what do you think of him?"


    It didn''t take long for Roxane to answer.


    "Let''s say that I see now why you chose him for me."


    Heraclius giggled at that response, which only made Roxane realize what she said and turn red in embarrassment.


    "I am simply d you like him." Said Heraclius, now with aforting smile.

 Chapter 71: The offensive begins

    <h4>Chapter 71: The offensive begins</h4>


    "My Shahanshah, may I?" asked Rostam before opening the door to Yazdegerd''s chambers ever so slightly.


    "Come inside, Rostam. No need to be shy." He chuckled. Rostam opened the door and slipped inside with a smile.


    "We need to go, my Shahanshah. The carriage is waiting."


    Of course. They had to go already. The visit was only for a few days, just so Yazdegerd and Roxane could meet. Nothing more. And yet, Yazdegerd felt a sense of unease and sadness upon the thought of leaving. He knew he had to go ¨C and he wasn''t about to refuse that. But he hoped that he could take her with him. Or that he could regrly visit him. Or she him. Perhaps letters would suffice.


    But no matter. Right now, he had to leave to take care of the responsibilities he had left behind. He had already patched things up ¨C he already said his farewells to Heraclius, Roxane and Bonus. He only returned to his chambers to have his things packed and loaded unto the carriage.


    "Rostam, could I hear your insight? You''ve been fairly quiet the whole visit, which I can understand, but I am sure you weren''t just idle, right?"


    Rostam let out a weakugh.


    "I was quiet mainly due to thenguage barrier. I am not skilled in Greek as you are, but otherwise, you are right. I made some observations and some research. I have ordered some od my men, those who are sufficient in Greek, to ask around the court and even the city. I myself have been observing the happenings during the whole visit. I can, with confidence say that Emperor Heraclius can be trusted. Same as your future Shahanshahbanu. The man that weed us and led us to the pce, Bonus, seemed also like a good fellow. But my men have found out some sensitive information that may well be very dangerous. Apparently, Roman Emperor isn''t on the same wavelength with some of the members of his council. I am not sure whether they are nning a rebellion or are simply dissatisfied, but we should be vary."


    "Truly? Shouldn''t we tell Heraclius then?"


    "My Shahanshah, if I may, I don''t think that is a good idea. If even themon folk know about it, there is almost non-existent chance for the Emperor not to know. Telling him this would simply provoke unneeded outrage and perhaps even a misunderstanding. I believe we should simply be ready to help, but leave everything to the Emperor."


    "Alright. If you say so, Rostam, I will believe you. Anything else?"


    "Nothing more to report, my Shahanshah."


    Rostam then left the room, and so did Yazdegerd just a moment after. Then they embarked upon the journey back. The journey seemed to be much swifter than the journey there. Perhaps it was because Yazdegerd had many things to think about. Not only about his future Shahanshahbanu, but also about the next steps he would take against the Arabs. After all, he left them alone for a decent while, and Piruz should have already finished preparing the troops for the Great Traversal, as they called it.


    Piruz has, in Yazdegerd''s and Rostam''s absence, been in charge of the military. He had beenmissioning new weapons and armour, he began a recruitment campaign and he also stacked on equipment against heat, like water canteens, camels and such ¨C all for the sake of crossing the Arabian desert and attacking Ma and Medina from the south. They would take Usama with them, who would help them incentivise natives and to join their cause of liberating the Muslimnd from the warmongers. And the army, together with the n were almost ready ¨C they only had to wait for Shahanshah''s agreement. And Shahanshah was closer each day.


    When Yazdegerd arrived into Ctesiphon, he didn''t waste any time. He, together with Rostam, immediately visited Piruz, and listened to his n once again. Without any prior preparations, it sounded suicidal. But with the effort that went into it, the n may have actually work. Instead of doing a naval invasion or following the coastline, which would be lengthy and predictable, a direct assault through the desert would be unprecedented and unpredictable. Yazdegerd, having little experience in warfare, believed in his general. After all, his role wasn''t nning the strategy or tactics, his role was to rule over his subjects. And that role he fulfilled brilliantly.


    He also met with Usama, to discuss not only the attack, but the consequences and what will follow.


    "I have to say, Usama, that you are a very ambitious person. But I assume you know what has to happen, should we win this war, right? That Arabs can''t be a fully independent nation. You surely know that, right?"


    "My Shahanshah, when I have first arrived here, I was confident that I will swear fealty to you, one way or another. I wasn''t intending to take charity here. I knew well that it''lle to this, someday."


    "You did, huh." Smiled Yazdegerd. "That''s great then. I hope you''ll offer your native knowledge of thend to ourmanders."


    "Your word is mymand, my Shahanshah."


    Yazdegerd stoop atop of the small hill that was overlooking the encampment. The soldiers were all ready and knew what followed ¨C only sweat, heat and pain. But they were still cheerful, despite the dreadful temperatures of the desert. Once the march began, the cheerfulness disappeared to conserve energy in case of sudden ambush. The march was exhausting itself, with hot days and cold nights, it wasn''t easy. But it was doable. Once in a while, they came upon an oasis, where they could recover their strength and their supplies. Of course, without Usama leading them, it would be impossible. Marching tens of thousands of men through the desert was no easy feat. But they made it work.


    Yazdegerd was happy that everything was progressing ording to the n. Ever since he returned from Trebizond, he felt a bit uneasy about returning to the leadership position again, but everything went so smoothly he felt his worries were meaningless. The army was in great shape, hismanders were experienced and skilled and the supply chain and logistics were well-nned. No reason to worry about anything. But that was it. Yazdegerd felt like everything was proceeding way too smoothly for his liking. In the end, though, it was the role of a ruler to needlessly worry about anything. After all, should the ruler not worry, it meant two things ¨C either something was wrong, or the ruler was na?ve. And Yazdegerd hoped it wasn''t any of those.


    The first bigger city they arrived in was Hajr. Well, it wasn''t really a city. More of a bigger town, housing no more than few thousand inhabitants. The town defences weren''t really something the great Persian army should be afraid of ¨C the town fell in mere hours. The overwhelming force couldn''t be stopped by something so basic. Rostam decided that this town would be the base of their operations for now. After all, he was confident that the opposing party already knows of them, and that they are preparing for them. And he was right.


    --


    General Khalid ibn al-Walid was already aware of the encroaching Persian army and was desperately building a force that stood at least some chance against the foe. The Arab fiasco at al-Quadisiyyah was a deafening blow to the Arab ability to gather men ¨C after all, they didn''t have therge pool of manpower Persians hat at their disposition. He had to gather any man he could ¨C even those unwilling, even those too young, even those too old, even those that were disabled and even those that weren''t faithful. He even pleaded the Caliph to release some criminals in exchange for them serving in the army. He simply had to resort to any means of acquiring sufficient manpower.


    But that had its downsides. Long gone was the day where hordes of zealots flocked to the recruitment offices, hoping that they would conquer the world, all in the name of their new-found God. All thoseds and men nowy in at Wja, The Bridge or at al-Quadisiyyah, so far from their own home, and without aplishing anything that they hoped to aplish. Now, Khalid had to recruit men the normal way ¨C that was to take fathers, brothers and sons from their families.


    Khalid was still ming himself for the crushing defeats that Arabs suffered ¨C for both of them. He felt as if he could do much, much more in those battles. As if he didn''t do enough. But, s, it was toote for such a way of thinking. It wasn''t as if he could do anything about it anymore. And now, that Abu Bakr was dead and Umar ibn al-Khattab took his ce, the Caliphate was more chaotic than ever. And even though that these issues would go away with time, time was something they didn''t have. Khalid was whacking his brain over how would he be able to defeat, or simply stop Persians in their attack. The roles were now reversed and he decided to take advantage of that. He would wait for them, just as they waited for him, and defeat them.


    --


    As Persians were repurposing the town hall into something more suitable for the base of their operations, Usama was in the town, convincing people that Persians aren''t the viins they thought they were. After all, should he rule the Caliphate as a puppet to the Persian Shahanshah, he had to gain peoples trust somehow. And the best way to do that was to use the fact that he is rted to the Prophet, Mohammad. Rostam, Piruz, Jaduya and Jalinus, on the other hand, were discussing their tactics and the strategy they should devote themselves to, because each of them knew that they can''t fight the way they fought before ¨C because now they are the ones attacking, and so they had to repurpose their leadership style to suit that fact.


    Yazdegerd was also there, even though he would soon go back to Ctesiphon. It was far too dangerous for him to be there,pletely in foreign territory, almost defenceless. It was also due to that that the fact about his presence was a secret. Only the highestmand knew of the fact. And he was feeling anxious. It was his decision that he saw the need to go with the whole army ¨C at least until they gain some ce they could call their base. Now, that the goal was fulfilled, he had to return back, because he had other responsibilities to take care of. After all, it wasn''t rulers duty to fight wars, he only dered them. Then, it was up to his loyal generals and soldiers to go and fight his battles for him.


    The journey back was tiresome, especially considering what awaited Yazdegerd at home. He had agreed with Farrukhzad toe up with some reforms, especially taxation, for which was Farrukhzad travelling the country and collecting data. Reforms of conscription and somend reforms were also needed, but not as much as tax reforms. The way it was, the taxation wasn''t based on how many plots ofnd one owned, but only on howrge they were. It was then easy forndowners to legally split theirrge parcels into smaller plots ofnd, and boom ¨C they paid lower taxes. Yazdegerd didn''t really understand as to why and who made it this way, because how to ovee it was obvious even to the most average of peasant.


    When he arrived, he went to sleep. The next day, he had met with Farrukhzad and they started to discuss the changes. And it was pretty clear. The way taxation should be made is to tax the size of the plotsbined, not individually. So even if someone owned several smaller parcels, he would pay the same as someone who owned onerge parcel. And that was only fair, Yazdegerd thought.


    "My Shahanshah, if I may, I don''t think we should do it this way. It favoursrgendowners more that smaller ones."


    "What do you mean, my wuzurg framadar? Is it not equal if everyone pays the same price?"


    "In theory, it is. But think about it from a different angle. What you''re essentially doing is making small farmers pay more than they can afford. If someone has arge ntation, with dates, for example, he usually sells them all for a profit, thus making it reasonable for him to pay the tax. But a small farmer, who takes half of the yield for feeding his family, the half of the other half he dries and saves for winter, and the rest he has he sells for a small profit on the market. Having almost no profit from thend itself, why should he pay the same taxes as the bigndowners?"


    Yazdegerd finally understood it. The way taxes worked were to fairly tax both self-sufficient farmers, who were the backbone of the economy, andrgendowners, who owned vast ntations and fields purely for profit. The issue is that the creative and deceptive human mind was always able to find some way around this.


    "What if we make an exception for self-sufficient farmers, then?"


    "How do you want to define a ''self-sufficient farmer,'' my Shahanshah? A bigndowner is also a ''self-sufficient farmer,'' in a sense."


    That was true. In both cases, farming was their livelihood. The difference was in scale. It would be much more profitable to simply take therge fields and ntations from their owners and distribute them to the people, should the taxes be equal. But that wasn''t something anyone wanted, so the difference in taxes was needed. Then, Yazdegerd got an idea.


    "What if the amount taxed scaled with the fields size? Not constantly, but by bigger margins. That way, small farmers will be taxed fairly, and so will biggerndowners, and nobody should suffer a loss."


    "A good idea, my Shahanshah. I believe there will be people angry with this proposal, but one can never satisfy everybody. I will take care of the rest, if you allow it."


    Of course Yazdegerd would allow it. He was happy his idea had merit, he didn''t have enough experience to devise the reform properly. But he did have one condition.


    "Of course I will, but I want to see. I want to see how reforms are made, so that next time, I can be of more help."


    Farrukhzad smiled. "As you wish, my Shahanshah."

 Chapter 72: The final nail in the Arab coffin

    <h4>Chapter 72: The final nail in the Arab coffin</h4>


    After a few weeks, Rostam led the Persian army out of Hajr to conquer Ma and Medina ¨C the most important cities in the whole Arabia. There was barely any resistance ¨C people were tired of sending their loved ones to die for a purpose they no longer shared. Vige by vige, town by town Rostam, together with Piruz, Jaduya and Jalinus learned of the fact that these people definitely aren''t their enemy. Even though he disagreed with their religion, even though he felt only negative emotions towards Im, what he saw weren''t bloodthirsty Muslims wanting to murder and destroy Iranian culture. He sawmon folk, who had nothing to do with war and wanted no change in that. Settlements werecking young men ¨C Rostam knew why. He decided to spare them from raiding and looting. He could bear many things, but this wasn''t something he wanted to take responsibility for.


    --


    Khalid looked over his army. He didn''t feel the joyous emotions he felt at the beginning of the campaign. Where he destroyed the Persians, battle after battle. How he killed Hormozd, the first Persian to oppose him, in a duel. He felt the happiness of defeating the heathen enemy, all in God''s name. But was that truly worth it? In the end, he achieved nothing, was back in Arabia, where he started, but without his men and without money. He had this thought before al-Quadisiyyah, too. He can''t win every battle. His spree of defeating a numerically superior enemy had toe to an end someday. And that day was when he lost at al-Quadisiyyah.


    It was unfair, now that he thought about it. But reality was, often, unfair. Intolerant. It stabbed you in the back as often as it could. But he brought it all upon himself. If they never attacked the Persians, they would live freely, without worries, worshipping anyone they could. They wouldn''t have to worry about the massive army just at their doorstep. Nothing would be like it is now. But those thoughts were only thoughts. He couldn''t change the past. The only thing he could do was to face it, and ept the consequences.


    And so he did, as he was looking down from a hill into a valley, where the massive Persian army was being gathered. His own army numbered barely 10000 soldiers. Persians easily had five times that number ¨C and it most likely wasn''t even their full force ¨C they must''ve left a chunk of it as garrisons. Khalid gulped. This was going to be his hardest battle of his life. He tried to keep up the appearance of a confident general, but deep down, he knew one thing clearly. That he doesn''t stand a chance.


    Rostam saw the Arab encampment as he was observing the surrounding terrain. He guessed that there can''t be more than ten thousand men in the Arab ranks. He knew nothing about the quality of their army, but he knew that he''d be able to defeat them, no matter what. But perhaps it didn''t have toe to this. It didn''t take to be a genius to understand the manpower issues Arabs had. And perhaps this issue could be exploited. Rostam called hismanders, but mainly people like Jaduya and Jalinus, to discuss their next move. This battle wasn''t something they could lose ¨C it was merely about minimizing their losses in soldiers and equipment. And Rostam proposed an interesting idea.


    Early in the morning, a messenger from the Persian side arrived. When Khalid realized, who it was, he was bbergasted. The man wore a linen tunic, over it he hadmer chest piece with a typically stylized helmet. Of course, he wasn''t alone. Number of Aswaran and Cataphract riders serving as his bodyguards. But it was madness. Khalid thought whether the person standing before him even knew Arabguage, but he soon understood. In that very moment, a younger man emerged from the crowd of heavily armed riders and Khalid realized his mistake. He realized that he had lost even before he knew it.


    While Rostam was in the background, only serving as a proof that they want to talk, it was the man before him doing all the talking. Usama ibn-Zayd. There was no Arab who didn''t know his name. The Arab soldiers were bewildered and confused. Some were anxious. Not only when looking at the overwhelming Persian army, but also when looking on the man supposed to be prophet''s direct descendant. Not many knew he was merely adopted, and that only made any convincing easier to do. Usama spoke up.


    "Arabs, my fellow Muslims, my fellow believers, my brothers. Do you see any reason, any purpose in such a needless bloodshed? Where exactly did our lordmand us to go and spread his word through some barbaric violence? Where did he tell us to give up our lives in his name, on foreign soil fighting foreign men? Where in Quran is it written that we should needlessly continue this senseless Jihad against our neighbours? Aren''t we supposed to love them? Aren''t we supposed to ept them for what they are, with whatever differences that stand between us? Persians are much better than us in this case. Have you seen it? Their Empire? They do not force their religion on anyone. They do not enve or kill anyone because of their religion. Thousands of Muslims, Christians and others live peacefully, protected by the Persian armies and their Shahanshah. And it was exactly thismon cause that made them victorious against our armies, sent by the bloodthirsty Caliphs. Do the people who send our fathers, brothers and sons die on the battlefield for some unreasonable cause really deserve to lead us? Do the people that has twisted our Lord''s teachings really deserve our respect? I don''t think so. That is why I supported Persians. That is why I met their Shahanshah and negotiated an agreement between us. Shall you not resist, Persians won''t harm you. Shall we ept them, we are allowed to keep our faith and dignity. Shall you oppose them, though, I won''t be responsible for anything that might happen. So, what do you say, my brothers? Do you really want to die here a senseless death, knowing it will change nothing? What do you say, General Khalid?"


    A wave of murmur was sent through the Arab soldiers. One couldn''t discern whether they were agreeing or disagreeing, but the fact that they were talking about it was concerning at least. It spoke about their morale. Khalid himself was on the edge. He knew that epting it, Persians would most likely keep their word. But he also knew what it would mean to himself. They couldn''t let him live, at least not like he was now. He was a person with too much of an influence. If they wouldn''t kill him, they would most likely imprison him or exile him. Neither of those sounded very good to Khalid. But he already knew that this battle was lost. Even if he forced the soldiers to fight, most of them would desert as soon as they would get the chance.


    He saw the despair in his soldiers'' eyes, and the determination in the eyes of the Persians. He knew he had to make a choice, and he even knew what choice. But it was a hard one.


    "Usama ibn Zayd, General Rostam Farrokhzad, I Khalid ibn al-Walid, with all my authority surrender before the Persian army on the condition that none of my soldiers will be harmed, that they will be treated fairly and as your own. That they will be fed, clothed andter discharged and let go as free men."


    Without nowhere to go Khalid made the hardest decision he could. He knew that he''ll lose everything this very moment, and that he could''ve either fought and died, or now he could only be captured and die. And if death was unavoidable for him, he might as well deliver it on his own. And so, after announcing the surrender of his army, Khalid, in full view of everyone pulled out his scimitar, pressed the tip to his stomach, and made one final blow.


    Usama didn''t have time to react before he saw what was unfolding before his very eyes. Although Khalid and him followed different views and held different opinions, he considered him a friend, for as a man, he was honourable and just, as any man should be.


    Rostam observed the whole happening with a difficult expression. There was a longing deep inside him, hoping that he could meet and talk to this Khalid, this man who was the most brilliant general Rostam ever saw. But those hopes were now crushed. No matter who you were and how powerful you were, when faced with insurmountable odds, many would break and fold, instead of standing up and fight. And when you have no support even from your allies, it''s hard finding support within yourself. Khalid could always win his battles not only thanks to his brilliance as amander, but also due to the morale and faith his soldiers had in him. Only today, it wasn''t the case.


    --


    The remaining several thousand men in the Arab army showed no sign of resistance. They let the Persians disarm them so easily one would never even guess they were former soldiers. Rostam felt a strange bitterness in his mouth. As if he felt anger upon those men, who couldn''t care less about a foreign army invading their homes.


    They gave Khalid a proper burial ¨C not Zoroastrian one, but Muslim one. Usama himself led the rites. No one except Usama knew Khalid personally, but each and every one of them knew that he was an exceptional man who will be remembered by history.

 Chapter 73: The End of the War

    <h4>Chapter 73: The End of the War</h4>


    The news of Persian victory spread quickly. At this point, it would be only a matter of time before Persians overran the whole Arabian penins, reiming some of their lost holdings in Bahrain and Oman while gaining new. Reports reached Ctesiphon and thus Yazdegerd''s ears briskly, his reaction being overjoyed one. He was happy not only because they won, but also because there weren''t any casualties. The strange bitterness, darkness he sometimes felt in his heart was still there, and although he has since gotten used to it and epted it, it still was relieving, knowing no one died for you. He hoped he will get used to it more as years go by, but that was something no one could guarantee.


    While happy Persian soldiers were the ones spreading the news back home to Persia, it were "defeated" Arab soldiers who brought the bad news home. And soon, the news reached Ma itself, the Caliph''s seat of power. Even though Umar knew what was about to unfold, even though he knew that victory was almost unachievable ¨C he still took a different decision from Khalid. While Khalid folded under the weight, under the pressure, Umar took a different stance, instead maintaining his position of defiance, disallowing the town garrison to yield, instead forcing them to fight, despite theirck of morale and willingness. It wasn''t as if Umar could endure more pressure than Khalid. That wasn''t it. It was more about understanding their own men. Umar was no general ¨C he was a statesman. He specialized inpletely different fields than Khalid did ¨C and it was due to that difference that Khalid decided to yield while Umar didn''t. Umar didn''t understand his own men. He didn''t realize that he had no support from them ¨C he didn''t realize the dire situation he and his army was in. Khalid realized that. He realized that his soldiers no longer wanted to fight and die for ideas forced onto them, for ideas they didn''t believe in, for ideas that didn''t prove themselves worthy.


    Umar couldn''t see that, and it was for that reason his soldiers began to resent him. Soldiers had to follow either their leader or his ideals for him to be good leader. If they follow both, then that army is basically impregnable. If they follow neither, the army is doomed to fail from the inside. Khalid realized that soldiers stopped following his ideals, and that was what hecked to defeat the Persians. In this case, soldiers followed neither Umar nor his ideals, and because of that hecked the ability to properly lead. After all, how could one lead an army that did not follow him?


    Ma fell after merely few days of resistance. The order was given to the Persian army to not destroy or desecrate any religious Im buildings, paintings, artefacts or in a sense anything tied to Arab religious practices. Any vition would be severely punished. Rostam had to make that order, even though he believed in the discipline of his own troops. After all, it cost him nothing to make that rule, but it could save him everything.


    After Persian army took over Ma, the garrison was captured, stripped of equipment and then they were released. After all, they were worth nothing to the Persians, as they held no real value and it would only be a nuisance to keep them locked somewhere. Umar was captured and imprisoned, as he was actually worth the effort. Before his capture, rumours were going around that he took his own life as the Persians were storming Caliph''s pce. But once he was found mounting ast stand in his chambers together with his bodyguards, those rumours quickly perished.


    What had to be acknowledged though was the bravery, valiance and fearlessness with which Umar fought. Despite being quite old, he himself brought down three Persians, before they overpowered him and captured him. Even though his rule was hard, strictly following the extremist religious doctrine, he at least proved his beliefs and showed to the world that he wasn''t just a power-hungry dictator that would dly turn coat as soon as he got the chance. No, he was someone that would fight to thest breath for what he believed in, not being easily swayed.


    Surprisingly, most of the civilians were indifferent to the Persian army that had just upied their city. Maybe they were simply tired of war, seeing Persian army as a weed peace-keeping force. Perhaps they simply didn''t care anymore. Who knows. What Rostam cared about is that he didn''t have to worry about civilians making any issues with the Persian garrison.


    He quickly set some regional administrative offices to easily keepw and order, which also served as a base for the imminent Persian takeover of the bureaucracy and the economy. Rostam knew very well how this would go ¨C because he was one of the people who worked on it. But now, that the time hase toy down weapons and focus on more administrative matters, that was something it would take some time to get used to. And, while he had a lot of work to do here, like rooting out possible resistance groups or some fanatical remnants of the Arab armies, he could only wait for information from his Shahanshah who would be doing the decisions. And now, without Rostam by his side, Yazdegerd would have to prove himself.


    --


    Although Yazdegerd expected it, or rather wanted this result, he was still a bit surprised by the news ofplete Persian victory. He remembered how he mourned the soldiers that died at Wja, at the Battle of Chains and other military disasters for the Persians. He remembered feeling lost and hopeless. He remembered thinking that he can never win against these odds. Yet he did. He did prevail in the end. And what did that prove? Did that prove that the Persians are superior? Or perhaps their religion? Yazdegerd didn''t think so. He only thought this proved hispetence, and his worth, together with many other''s. This proved Jaduyah''s, Piruz''s, Rostam''s and Jalinus'' military and tacticalpetence. It proved Farrukhzad''s economic and bureaucratic knowledge. It proved that these are the people that will lead Persia into a new era of growth and prosperity. And Yazdegerd was d he could be a part of that.


    He then called Farrukhzad to assist him in dealing with the annexation process. He brought a map of the penins with him, so they had some idea what territories they would be talking about. There were several things to take into ount. One of these was the agreement they made with Usama ¨C that he would take over ruling Arabia under the supervision of the Persians ¨C a puppet, basically. But that wasn''t all. The agreement also stated that Persians had the right to annex any territories they deemed strategically or otherwise important. And that was what they would discuss today.


    It wasn''t necessarily long discussion ¨C they fairly quickly reached the consensus that they should annex as little ofnd as possible, because of the cultural and religious differences. They both agreed on the following terms:


    1. Usama ibn Zayd would be a ruler of Arabia, supervised by no one but Shahanshah Yazdegerd III. and would reply and ept any order or request given to him. The religious practices of Arabs would resume and their religion would be legally protected by Persianw.


    2. The Empire of all Iranians would annex all of its previously held territories on the penins, including Bahrain, Mazun, Azd''Oman, Mahra and Hijaz. These territories would be directly governed by Shahanshah Yazdegerd III. or his appointed governors.


    After having written that, Yazdegerd let Farrukhzad go to take care of the details and then send it to Usama for his signature. At longst, the war was over and Yazdegerd could take care of administrative and economic things. He never could''ve imagined how close war would always be.

 Chapter 74: New worries arise

    <h4>Chapter 74: New worries arise</h4>


    "My Shahanshah, may I have a moment of your time?" asked Rostam as he entered Yazdegerd''s office nonchntly. Yazdegerd was in the middle of reading through some documents. It was the year 639. Two and a half years have passed since the end of the war. Yazdegerd was now 15 and was experiencing everything that came with it. He began growing a stump, and his voice was now much deeper. He has also grown in height, bing nearly as tall as Rostam. His shoulders also broadened. He was no longer a boy, but also not yet man. He was something between. And he wasn''t entirelyfortable with these changes yet.


    "Of course, what is it?" asked Yazdegerd, being briefly surprised by his voice. Rostam simply smiled and began to speak.


    "I have some reports you should take a look at. Several of them. And each one being critical." He said with a serious voice. Yazdegerd was taken aback by the sudden change of mood. He frowned.


    "Take a seat here, Rostam. And show them to me." He said, putting the papers he was reading aside.


    "I am sorry to disturb you when you are working, but this is very important." Said Rostam, looking at the papers Yazdegerd put away.


    "Rostam, I know that you wouldn''te to me with something that could be discussed at ater date. Now, show me. What''s the matter?"


    Rostam simply nodded and took out several papers. Some of those were letters, some were reports and documents. Then, he pulled out a map.


    "ording to these documents, which you may want to read by yourself, there is some trouble brewing in the Roman Empire. There has been a word of assassination plot on the current Emperor and our ally, Heraclius. We do not have this confirmed, but it may be wise to at least keep it in mind, and perhaps alert Heraclius of this fact. Then again, I do believe he already knows about this, and is perhaps dismissing it as mere rumours. But we should be careful, my Shahanshah, and we should be prepared for a possible military intervention."


    Yazdegerd was tense and was sweating from what he heard. He was well aware of some ploys being set against Heraclius, but this was far worse than he imagined. Now he wasn''t sure he wants to know about the other matter. But he had to. This was his job.


    "I do believe we should be prepared for any military conflict, but sending a messenger might be too much. He may get intercepted. We don''t know who exactly is plotting against him. Anyway, I need more time to thing this over. Was there anything else?"


    "Yes, my Shahanshah, though I would say it''s not that serious. There have been reports of several raids and skirmishes between our soldiers and soldiers of the Chacha Empire along the Indus river. It seems they are testing our reaction to see whether a conquest of territory would be possible. So long losses were minimal on both sides, but should they attempt anything bigger, we may have to act."


    Yazdegerd was surprised by this. "Oh, really?" he said. He was bbergasted that someone other than Arabs would try to attack him. He could understand why Arabs would do that ¨C after all, his Empire was in horrible state at the time. It was no surprise they tried to exploit its weakness. But now, Eranshahr was strongest it was in a long time. Reformed bureaucracy, taxes and conscription, among other things, meant the country could stay modernised and prosperous. Either the ruler of this Chacha Empire was a fool, or he knew exactly what he was doing. And thetter possibility scared him.


    "What of this Chacha Empire? Are they someone we should be vary of?"


    "I wouldn''t say so, at least not yet. But it would be prudent to act cautiously and within reason. It seems they have been expanding rapidly while we were busy fighting the Arabs. Perhaps they are trying to cling to the legacy of Ashoka. Who knows?"


    "In the same way we are trying to cling to the Achaemenids of old?"


    Rostams smile withered away as he realized his foolishness. Was it wrong to try and cling onto the great legacy of your people? Was it wrong that Assyrians still revered the days of the great Ashurbanipal? That Armenians to this day celebrated Tigranes II., who was called "The Great"? Of course not. Persians also remembered their own Greats. Cyrus, Xerxes and Darius, every one of these men did good deeds for the Persians. So it''s no surprised they would be recognized and celebrated, even if they died centuries ago.


    Yazdegerd gave Rostam a wry smile. He then stood up and began leaving.


    "As I said, I need some time to think. Give me a day. Maybe two. But no more. In the meantime, I would ask you to look into the matter a bit more. I believe Heraclius is not only strong man, but also a capable ruler. I don''t think he is the kind of man that would not take information like that seriously. So let us focus on dealing with the Indians first. Maybe send a messenger to negotiate. Talk this over with Farrokhzad, too. Tomorrow, or the day after, we shall meet and discuss the matter at hand."


    As he finished his talk, Rostam only nodded, then stood up and bowed as he watched Yazdegerd leave his office. It was strange, seeing him growing up so fast. As if it was yesterday when he was only a small boy, incapable of doing things himself. But now, he was truly the one ruling this country and calling the shots. Such a growth only warmed Rostam''s heart.


    --


    Yazdegerd was wandering through the corridors of the Imperial Pce in Ctesiphon, wondering about this or that. But mainly, he was thinking about himself. The sesses he achieved during these past few years were astounding. Considering the dire situation he was facing in the beginning, it''s quite admirable that he was able to make it so far. Now, Eranshahr was once again the major yer in the world, perhaps second only to the Romans. The warring tribal kingdoms in Europe, that have conquered the formernds of the Romans weren''t even worthy of consideration. Not yet, anyway.


    And hearing this talk about some powerful Indian kingdom, stretching way beyond the Indus, he felt uneasy. He had to get his act together and think rationally. After all, he was the ruler. He had to call the shots. And so he thought. A dangerous neighbour, threatening to invade, most likely coveting ournds. The issue is, why? ording to his intel, this Chacha Empire wasn''t even half the size of Eranshahr. Rationally speaking, they shouldn''t have any chance of winning this war. So why were they so confident? What drove them? Perhaps they were the ones with bad spywork, thinking the Empire is in apletely different state than it really is? Or maybe they had confidence for a simr reason Arabs had? Not necessarily a new religion, but perhaps a highly skilled andpetent ruler and/or general? Who knew? The more Yazdegerd thought, the more he was getting entangled in his own thoughts. He needed a break.


    He ventured into the pce gardens. He wasn''t visiting them very often, especially after a certain incident involving his life urred here. From then, he always ventured here with at least few pushtigban members. But now, he was alone. He always thought the ce was beautiful. It was soothing for his mind, to sit down on a bench and listen to the chirping of birds, flow of water and fizz of flowing water. He sat right by an artificially madeke, in which fish were swimming. He thought about them, always looking so calm and unbothered. How easy of a life they must have. Just swimming freely in the water, no responsibilities and no obligations. Just water.


    Eventually, his thoughts wandered somewherepletely different. He thought of Roxane. After all, he hadn''t seen her for a while and the prospect of seeing her again intrigued him. After all these years, she must''ve grown even more beautiful than she was. And considering how pretty she was when he first saw her, even his imagination was short. He simply couldn''t fathom the sheer beauty she must''ve possessed by now.


    But he also thought about other things. About Usama, who was now ruling in Yazdegerd''s name over Arabs, continuing with the practice of their religion, unopposed and free. And even though Usama sent monthly reports, which were mostly uneventful, mainly consisting of financial reports and some other stuff Usama noticed or found out, Yazdegerd knew very little about how Usama himself was faring.


    Then there was Heraclius, the man he talked with Rostam about just a while ago. Yazdegerd believed in him. He knew very well that Heraclius is a clever, calcting man that wouldn''t let himself be caught off guard. And that was exactly why he was so worried. Because if Yazdegerd knew that, so did everyone else in the Empire. And if they knew his weakness, they could easily exploit it. But, once again, Heraclius must''ve known that, meaning he will take necessary precautions. Even knowing that didn''t help Yazdegerd shake off that uneasy feeling he had.


    He sighed. He had enough worries about himself ¨C he can''t be worrying about others, too, or he will go insane.


    He eventuallyy down into the grass, closing his eyes and simply rxing. He thought about a lot of things. His issues, his needs, things he was responsible for, things that were in his grasp and things he could influence. After a while though, he cleared his head and while listening to the surrounding sounds, he slowly and quietly descended into a peaceful slumber.

 Chapter 75: To brave the unknown

    <h4>Chapter 75: To brave the unknown</h4>


    After Yazdegerd left, Rostam didn''t even finish the wine that was left in his cup, and left too, in search of a certain person. After the victory against the Arabs, thend was slowly returning to peace. He heard from Farrukhzad that they are expecting the biggest harvest in a while. Towns were starting to be prosperous, trade flourished, and craft was on the rise. Markets were full of daily produce from the farms, fisheries, cksmiths, carpenters, woodworkers and numerous other.


    But not everything was so positive. The war took its toll not only on thend, but also on the people. Many men didn''t return from the war. Many women were now widows, and many a child without a father. People were also furious, and persecutions of Muslims rapidly rose. Thankfully, the guards prevented any pogroms happening, but many merchants refused to sell to Muslims, or only at an increased price. Yazdegerd definitely knew about this, but Rostam decided not to discuss it with him today. He felt like the boy had enough on his te as it is.


    As he was touring the corridors, he reached the main entrance, through which he got into a courtyard, where the person of interest was already waiting. Sitting on a bench under a tree, looking on a beautiful fountain with statues made of sculpted marble. He wore a linen tunic with a head wrap to protect him from the zing sun. He had his sabre at his hip. His face bearing a magnificent beard to show off his importance.


    Rostam approached him, he himself wearing a linen tunic with silk robe on top. His beard no less magnificent, his sturdy leather boots made a distinct stepping sound as he approached.


    The man noticed him and stood up.


    "Piruz, good to see you. What a heat today, huh?"


    "I feel like I was in a Fire Temple, enveloped by eternal fires all around me, Rostam. It''s horrible. Anyway, how do you fare?"


    "Well enough, should I say so. But I believe we have a matter at hand that we should discuss, don''t we?"


    Piruzughed. "Ha, you always skip right to formalities. Why not enjoy yourself a bit?"


    "I would if I could, Piruz, but this, this is something of tremendous importance. We have to take it seriously."


    Piruz'' smile faded and his face became stern and solid. He then looked straight on Rostam.


    "Of course we have, my friend. Of course. But let us take it perhaps somewhere more out of sight. Don''t want to be overheard by a wrong person."


    Rostam nodded and then, after Piruz stood up from the bench, they were on their way into Piruz'' chambers. Along the way, they talked.


    "So, what are you doing these days, Rostam? What job might spahbed have in times of peace?"


    "The same as general. I inspect the troops, I search for any possible threats and I also train soldiers and sometimes recruits. That and a lot of paperwork."


    "You can read Rostam?" asked Piruz,ughing. Rostamughed too.


    "And what about you, Piruz? What are you up to?" asked Rostam the same question, this time aimed at Piruz.


    "Oh, you know. Since I have much more free time, I visited my home, to see how my son grew up. Let me tell you, he''s got his handsomeness after his father." Said Piruz with a grin.


    "Enough boasting. How old is he again?"


    "I believe he turned fifteen some half a year ago. I''m proud of him. He got decent at swordfighting, he can read and write and he has been learning Greektely and doing great."


    "Fifteen?" asked Rostam, looking straight at Piruz.


    "I mean, he doesn''t have an Empire on his shoulders."


    With that, their discussion ended, but only because they arrived at their destination. Piruz opened the door andpelled Rostam to go in. The room was big, filled with tapestries, paintings, sculptures, trophies and floored with carpets. In a corner stood a small table withfortably looking chairs and sofas. Piruz sat into one of the chairs, signalling for Rostam to also sit down.


    As Rostam made himselffortable, Piruz began speaking.


    "Forgive me for theck of hospitality, but I do believe the secrecy outweighs anyck of wine or food. So, let us get right on topic, no?"


    "I agree. Piruz, I don''t know how much you already know, but I''ll tell you everything from the beginning. As you know, our old Indian allies have been absorbed into a so-called Chacha Empire. We don''t know where they came from and we have little to no knowledge about their ruler and leadership, who is most important and so on. What we do know, though, is that they seem to be hungrily eyeing our territory."


    "Was there any attempted invasion or such?"


    "No, but there were few border shes and they regrly send scouts across the border, mapping the terrain. If this is not an obvious attempt at invasion, I don''t know what is."


    "Does our Shahanshah know about this? Have you spoken to him?"


    "Yes, he does and yes, I have. He said to gather more information on them so he can make a move informed of the circumstances. That is why I wanted to talk with you."


    "And? What exactly do you need me to do?" asked Piruz rather curiously, but with a hint of carefulness, his expression bing stiffer.


    "I wanted to send you there, to assess the situation and provide me with a report. That way I can easily recognize the level of threat and proceed ordingly. Will you do that for him?"


    Piruz smiled. "After what he has shown to us? dly."


    Rostam also smiled, feeling relieved. "Very well then. I will send a small aswaran detachment with you as an escort and some fighting force. You will be travelling under Shahanshah''s direct orders, and thus will speak in his name and resolve issues with his will. Thank you, Piruz, and let the eternal fire guide you."

 Chapter 76: What future holds for us

    <h4>Chapter 76: What future holds for us</h4>


    The next day, Rostam came into Yazdegerd''s office upon his personal invitation. He found Yazdegerd already sitting behind his table, drinking wine from a cup. On the other side of the table sat another man ¨C Farrukhzad. They were chatting and drinking from the two jugs of wine they had on the table. After they noticed him, Farrukhzad called out to him.


    "Hello there, brother. Come join us! Sit down!"


    Rostam hastily epted the invitation as he sat down and downed an entire cup of wine. Then he poured another one.


    "Rostam, I need you to think rationally today so calm down, alright?" said Yazdegerd jokingly. Rostamughed.


    "Of course. Is this about yesterday?" asked Rostam, even though he pretty much knew it was.


    "Naturally. I heard from Piruz that you talked with him. Good job. We need to have someone close to the border to report what is actually happening there. Also, I ordered to have garrisons ofrger settlements on the eastern border bolstered, so they can defend themselves in case of an attack."


    Rostam was listening to Yazdegerd intently, absorbing every word he said. Meanwhile, Farrukhzad was wine sipping from his cup.


    "I think this and Piruz'' arrival to the vicinity should help mitigate any possible threats. Any other suggestions you might have?" asked Yazdegerd. Rostam looked like he is deep in thought, while Farrukhzad simply continued sipping his wine. After a brief moment, Rostam spoke.


    "I have thought about sending an emissary to the Chacha Empire. Let us show them that we do not wish to fight them, and perhaps negotiate a truce, instead of only bolstering our borders in silence."


    Farrukhzad stopped sipping his wine, since they were entering field in which he had expertise. He held his hand up


    "I would volunteer for this, my Shahanshah. I believe my brother to be correct, that we should show them our good will and arrange a negotiation. It''s much better than to live in fear of war constantly."


    Yazdegerd looked at both of them, then his eyes stopped at Farrukhzad.


    "Farrukhzad, my friend, from the moment Rostam spoke about an emissary, I knew you would be perfect for that role. If you are so excited, you can ride with Piruz to the border, then continue with a small retinue into the Chacha territory, or however you arrange it. I will put my trust in you."


    Farrukhzad simply bowed. Yazdegerd then downed his cup of wine and went onto the next topic.


    "Rostam, did you find anything else about the apparent plot against our ally?" asked Yazdegerd in a tone that revealed he had something in his mind.


    "No, I didn''t. Nothing new at least. The thing is, they''re just rumors at this point. No one sane enough would act when the victim himself knows he''s the target."


    "Maybe that''s what he is trying to do." Said Yazdegerd as he was pouring another cup.


    "What do you mean, my Shahanshah?" asked Rostam, even though he was beginning to understand what Yazdegerd means.


    "Think about it. No professional would let rumors like that spread. Hell, how did they even manage to spread around like that? Would a killer nning on murdering the Roman Emperor be so ipetent as to allow these rumors spread and possibly alert Heraclius?"


    "Most likely, no." answered Rostam, whose brow began to sweat.


    "Exactly. This is all part of the plot, I''m afraid. Let the rumors spread. The victim will barricade himself and will use everything he can to remain safe. And you won''t act. You just wait a few months, when the victim begins to think he''s safe after all, and that those really were just rumors, then you strike. But this would require you having ess to close proximity of the victim and the ability to gain inside info. Meaning someone close to Heraclius must be involved for the plot to work." Said Yazdegerd, downing another cup of wine.


    Rostam and Farrukhzad simply sat there, bbergasted. I all made sense. And, if the victim finds out how the plot works, you can simply decide to not do it, meaning he won''t ever find out who was involved. A genius strategy.


    "In this case, I believe we should warn his majesty about the possible danger." Said Rostam. I sounded like he wanted to say something else, but he didn''t. Farrukhzad knew what.


    "But sending a letter would be dangerous. I might get intercepted by the wrong people." Said Farrukhzad, as if finishing what Rostam wanted to say. Rostam simply nodded.


    Yazdegerd kind of knew where this is headed, but he decided he would be the one to say it.


    "Then let us go personally, on an official visit. After all, I have a good reason ¨C meeting my future bride and father-inw after few years. Arrange for a letter to be sent to Heraclius, announcing my visit. Let us depart in a week and head straight to Constantinople, the city of wonders."


    --


    Heraclius was sitting in his office, a pile of documents on his table. Some he read, on some he wrote with a quill and there were few that he discarded, for whatever reason. His office was full of busts, trophies and other decorations that made it lookvish and extravagant. He was tired of the constant administrative work he had to put up with. He was d that he had at least some vacant time for himself and his daughter. After all, he won''t have her forever. He looked at one simple letter in particr. It arrived a few days ago, bearing joyful news. He then decided he should do something. As he left his office, the guard at the door saluted him. He strode towards the western portion of the pceplex, deep in thought. At least seemingly. In reality, he knew exactly what he was doing and wasn''t just wandering aimlessly. He walked up to a door from which he could hear muffled voices ¨C a voice of an older man, and a voice of a young girl. After the voices calmed down, he knocked on the door.


    The door was opened by an older man in simple robe and tunic. It was Adonis, the teacher hired to teach young princess the Persiannguage. When he realized who was knocking on the door, he straightened himself and began to speak politely.


    "Your Highness, what an unexpected visit. What might you need? We are in the middle of a lesson." Said Adonis with a smile.


    "I would like to speak with my daughter. Could you finish today''s lesson early today?" asked Heraclius. Even though it sounded like a request, Adonis knew he can''t really decline.


    "Of course we can. But please, I beg of you, talk some sense into her. Lately, it''s as if she is in clouds. I can''t teach her when she doesn''t concentrate. Don''t you know what happened to her?" Said Adonis, pleading. Heraclius smiled.


    "I do. She was charmed." Said Heraclius, still smiling.


    He left the room together with Roxane, and they went towards his chambers, talking about this and that. When they reached their destination, they sat down and made themselvesfortable. Heraclius then smiled and patted Roxane on her head.


    "What was sir Adonis talking about, my dear? What is up with you? You never had issues with concentration. What happened?" asked Heraclius. Roxane remained silent and appeared to try to hide her face.


    "Did you perhaps hear rumours of a certain someone arriving here to visit us in the uing weeks?" asked Heraclius devilishly. Judging by her reaction, he hit a bullseye.


    "Is it true then?" burst Roxane out, before realizing how embarrassing what she said was, painting her cheeks red. "Will he reallye?" she continued, this time more silent and meek.


    Heraclius wanted to hug her immediately, for he saw her behaviour extremely cute. But he restrained himself.


    "Yes, it is true. He sent me a letter informing me of his intent. By the way, do you remember how you made me promise you that should you not like him, I would break the engagement off?" asked Heraclius with a soft smile. Roxane looked at him, embarrassed.


    "Yes." She said, as quiet as she was.


    "And? Now that you''ve seen him and had the time to think about it, do you wish to proceed with this request?" continued Heraclius.


    "No." she said, this time very softly.


    ---


    Thank you for reading! Sorry for the pause, I had to take one. I wasn''t able to write and couldn''te up with ideas. Guess I still am burnt out a bit, but I am trying to write as much as I can. Sadly, it''s not as easy as it used to be.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!