Chapter 150 (End of Part 1)
While Marshal and Nur ad-Din anxiously awaited the envoy from Khwarezm, a nightmare unfolded in the eastern regions of Transoxiana, once the borderland between Khwarezm and the Western Xia.
”…”
”…”
How could one even begin to describe this?
“How… how could this happen…?”
Tekish couldn’t accept the reality before him.
“This is a nightmare. I must be dreaming.”
Indeed, if this wasn’t a nightmare, how could such a thing be happening right before his eyes? If this wasn’t a nightmare, how could his proud soldiers be swept away so easily?
“This can’t be real. It’s impossible.”
“Your Majesty! Our flank is collapsing! At this rate, we’ll be defeated in detail!”
“Your Majesty! You must retreat at once!”
The words, reminiscent of a recent nightmare, echoed in his ears once more.
Retreat.
A word that had been completely forgotten as Khwarezm grew into an empire, now frequently uttered by his subordinates. Was it mere coincidence?
”…Why? How did it come to this? I am the Sultan of Khwarezm…”
“Your Majesty! You must make a decision!”
Tekish was certain he hadn’t been complacent when he embarked on this war. Having suffered a painful defeat to the Crusaders, he had resolved that it wouldn’t happen again and rallied his troops with determination.
He had even swallowed his pride to boost the morale of the local amirs and the Mamluks leading the army.
Of course, it wasn’t the perfect, strongest force he could muster. The main forces had been heavily depleted in the battle against the Crusaders. Still, he believed they could muster about seventy percent of their strength.
“I must… achieve a decisive victory and reunite the empire…”
Half-dazed, he muttered to himself, staring blankly at the battlefield. Even from this distance, he could see his soldiers falling far away.
Cries for mercy. The horrific sounds of flesh being torn apart and the despairing screams. Memories of the humiliating retreat from the Crusaders flashed before his eyes.
“My son… where is Muhammad?”
“Prince Muhammad tried to break through but…”
“Hah… hahahaha…”
Hearing that even his last bastion, his son, had fallen, Tekish heard a ‘crack’ as if something inside him broke. Whether it was the sound of his soldiers being trampled or his own heart shattering, or perhaps both, he couldn’t tell.
“To be defeated by the Crusaders is one thing, but how could these barbarians…”
“We underestimated them! They’re monsters driven mad by battle!”
“They might even be stronger than the Crusaders…”
Though they hadn’t matched the strength they had against the Crusaders, it seemed absurd that they were being so easily overwhelmed, as his subordinates said.
The battle with the Crusaders had been a strategic failure, a collapse due to being outmaneuvered. Before that, they had at least exchanged fierce blows, and while they were outmatched, it hadn’t felt overwhelmingly one-sided.
But these foes were different. This battle was a pure clash of force against force, with both sides intent on crushing the other. And the Khwarezmian army was shattered in the worst way imaginable.
So much so that even those who once took pride in the Khwarezmian Empire were surrendering without a second thought.
“Your Majesty! You must retreat!”
“Retreat?”
“Yes. Return to the capital and prepare for a last stand…”
“With no forces left to fight, what last stand are you talking about?”
“Still, if we explain the threat they pose, we might secure support from other nations. Surely Saladin of the Ayyubids would aid you.”
As his subordinates suggested, Saladin might not turn a blind eye. But it was already too late. After losing tens of thousands of troops to the Crusaders and suffering another devastating defeat in this battle, how could they hold out in the capital and wait for reinforcements?
Moreover, with the empire crumbling under his leadership, could the nation even rally if he remained alive? If his son had survived, he might have staged a coup to overthrow him, but now even that was impossible. Waiting for his grandson to grow up was another option, but Muhammad’s son, Jalal, was just a toddler.
No matter how he thought about it, there was no way to maintain the nation until the child grew up.
”…Is this how the end comes, so futilely?”
No matter how grand the beginning, history is unpredictable in how it concludes.
“Your Majesty! They’re approaching!”
“You must retreat now, Your Majesty!”
The Sultan of the Khwarezmian Empire, who had once subdued the eastern Islamic world, looked up at the sky with a hollow laugh. Just a year ago, he had reigned supreme over the Islamic world, but now he felt no desire or will to turn his horse and flee.
Instead, his eyes were fixed on the Mongol wave that greedily swallowed his soldiers.
”…Heh, you must be feeling the heat now, too.”
Who those words were meant for, only Tekish knew. With that final remark, he closed his eyes, as if he never wanted to see the absurd fate that had rejected him and his nation again.
The envoy sent by Nur ad-Din returned weeks past the expected date.
Could this be a ploy by the Ayyubids to give Khwarezm time to regroup? Philip II seriously entertained such a theory, and I was on the verge of suspecting the same when the news reached the Crusader camp.
“You fool! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Because of you, the Sultan was unjustly suspected! How could you be so late?”
Nur ad-Din was genuinely furious, berating the envoy to the point where I had to intervene to prevent him from executing the man on the spot.
Yet, despite the envoy’s blunder, he seemed unfazed by Nur ad-Din’s wrath, focused solely on delivering his message. In fact, he appeared too overwhelmed to even explain his tardiness.
“That’s not the issue right now! Something terrible has happened. Something catastrophic!”
“What could be worse than disgracing the Sultan? Did Khwarezm suddenly decide to make a last stand? If that’s what delayed you, I might consider leniency…”
“Khwarezm can’t make a last stand.”
“Of course not. If they have any sense, they’d stop fighting. So what were you doing that made you so late?”
Nur ad-Din was still simmering with anger, but I sensed something off in the envoy’s words. They can’t make a last stand, not that they won’t?
Sure enough, the envoy’s next words left not only Nur ad-Din but also the Crusader kings listening to the translation, utterly speechless.
“The Mongols from the east have invaded Khwarezm. Sultan Tekish and his heir Muhammad are dead, and Khwarezm has completely collapsed. As it stands, there’s no one with the authority to negotiate a treaty with the Crusaders.”
“The Sultan is dead?”
“Even the heir?”
“Who invaded? The Mongols? Who are they? Wasn’t the neighboring country supposed to be some place called the Western Xia?”
The rapid developments, like something out of a morning drama, left everyone reeling. I was no exception.
I had anticipated the Mongols might push westward, but this was too fast. What about the Western Xia and the Jin Dynasty? Even if they had quickly unified the steppes, they should be clashing with the Jin by now. How did they reach Khwarezm so swiftly?
“Let’s take a breath and go through this step by step. How did Khwarezm fall so quickly?”
“Yes. So, I was dispatched by the Sultan to the Khwarezmian capital. But upon arrival, I found the Sultan had already mobilized his forces to the eastern border. The reason was the Mongol invasion.”
“Why did the Mongols suddenly attack Khwarezm? Did they see this as an opportunity after hearing of our victory? No, considering the distance, that doesn’t make sense.”
“Yes. The Mongols knew Khwarezm was at war with the Crusaders but seemed unaware the war had ended. The Sultan of Khwarezm, shaken by his defeat to the Crusaders, likely sought to restore his authority by using the Mongols as a scapegoat, but the result was disastrous.”
According to the Ayyubid envoy, by the time he reached the east to assess the situation, the Khwarezmian army had already been annihilated. He had considered suggesting the Sultan seek asylum for political leverage, but upon learning both the Sultan and his heir were dead, he was left in shock.
With the Mongol army advancing at a terrifying pace, cities like Samarkand, Merv, and Bukhara were…
The city had fallen in the blink of an eye, and they had fled here for safety.
“Still, at the request of Khwarezm, we managed to protect the Sultan’s grandson. It took much longer than expected, but we were trying to gather the most accurate information. Please forgive us.”
Nūr ad-Dīn, who had been gaping with his mouth wide open, quickly composed himself and nodded.
Realizing that they hadn’t been lazy but had done an exceptional job, how could he be angry?
“Ah… yes. Well done. When you return to the homeland, I’ll make sure the Sultan hears of your achievements in detail. But now…”
He trailed off, scratching his head as he glanced at me and the other Crusader kings.
“Things are taking a strange turn. What should we do about this?”
We had intended to negotiate a truce, but there was no one left to negotiate with—a baffling situation indeed.
The Crusader kings, still unaware of the true threat posed by the Mongols, seemed relatively unconcerned.
Heinrich VI even sidled up to me, whispering a fantastical legend that had been passed down in Christendom.
“Could these Mongols who destroyed Khwarezm be Prester John?”
No, they couldn’t.
Though the question was absurd enough to make me feel foolish for being so tense, I couldn’t blame him.
Prester John, the mythical king who supposedly spread the Christian gospel to the ends of the earth beyond the Islamic world, was a legend that had taken root in Europe at the time.
It wasn’t surprising that Europeans, hearing of an unknown force crushing Islam in the East, would think of that legend.
Considering that this was indeed a belief held in history, it was an ironic moment.
“The Mongols have nothing to do with Prester John. They are conquerors. Do you remember when I predicted that the war with Khwarezm was just the beginning and that a disaster beyond comparison would befall us?”
“Of course, I remember. That’s why I said we must unite the Crusader forces. Hmm? Surely not…”
“Yes. That wave of disaster has finally begun to move in our direction.”
There was no time to revel in the victory of having brought the strongest enemy of the Islamic world to its knees, for an even greater threat loomed before us.
Though it came faster and more urgently than expected, hearing this news in such a gathering was a stroke of luck for me.
I looked around at the Crusader kings and Nūr ad-Dīn, who had turned to stone, and spoke the only solution that could break this deadlock.
“In the name of the Almighty, I declare here and now that the Crusaders must join forces with the Ayyubids to stand against the Mongol invasion. Please lend us your strength.”
An unprecedented alliance, never seen before and never to be seen again.
The Crusaders and the Ayyubids.
Richard and Saladin.
Two forces that could never mix must now join hands through me as their bridge.
The prelude was over, and the true gates of hell were finally revealing themselves.
-End of Part 1-