Episode 193
What are the odds that a unit, having pushed deep into enemy territory, can safely retreat?
One might think they could simply retrace their steps, but the reality is that a safe withdrawal is rarely straightforward.
The very need to retreat implies a failure to secure victory in battle.
In other words, it means turning your back on an enemy seething with rage from the invasion, and such a return journey is unlikely to be warm or cozy.
Moreover, there are countless reasons why the retreating Mongol forces would not be allowed to leave unchallenged.
First and foremost is Al-Adil.
Even the mere mention of the Mongols is enough to make him leap out of bed in fury. He volunteered to lead the elite troops in pursuit, positioning himself at the forefront.
The second, perhaps unexpectedly, is Richard.
Whether it was a personal vendetta against Jebe or a determination to see the Mongols utterly defeated, he was resolute in his pursuit.
“So, should we assume that His Majesty Heinrich VI and His Majesty Philip II will cover the rear?”
“Yes. But there’s no need for you, Prophet, to lead the charge…”
“No, as I’ve mentioned before, my presence will amplify the effect.”
The plan is to exploit the enemy’s strategy, but it comes with its own risks.
Even with vaccinations and prior checks, who would willingly engage closely with smallpox patients?
It’s a daunting task for anyone without a strong constitution and a steady stomach.
“If we let the Mongols go now, they’ll return in ten or twenty years once they’ve regained their strength. We must prevent that.”
“I agree. We can’t always be here to help, as we are now.”
As Philip II pointed out, this alliance was only possible because the Crusaders were already stationed in the Middle East.
If the Mongols were to invade the Islamic world again decades later, it’s uncertain whether an appropriate response could be mounted.
The same goes if they turn their attention to Eastern Europe.
According to calculations, if they head east, they’ll be too busy fighting with the Jin or the Southern Song to focus on us, but one must always be prepared for the unexpected.
“But Prophet, while using smallpox against the Mongols is a good strategy, what if the disease spreads back to the Ayyubids? The soldiers might get vaccinated first, but it will take time to distribute it to the cities.”
“We’re taking every precaution to prevent that.”
Not a single Mongol soldier will be allowed to linger west of Baghdad, and I’ve ordered that all their belongings and food be burned on sight.
We’ve also ensured that all items used by Nasr and Muhammad II to spread the disease are thoroughly disposed of.
Moreover, anyone who has come into contact with the Mongol forces is required to undergo a quarantine period, so there’s no risk of further spreading smallpox.
“Prophet, once this war is over and we return home, a large-scale smallpox vaccination campaign will begin, right? Ah, we decided to call it ‘sacred inoculation’ now.”
“Yes, that’s the plan.”
“But since it’s all new, and with a shortage of skilled technicians and limited knowledge, there will likely be confusion at first. Many will want it because it’s your initiative, but there won’t be enough skilled people to administer it.”
“That will improve over time, just as it has here.”
Even though the cowpox method is simple, mass inoculation is no easy task.
Philip II, Saladin, and I, having witnessed the entire process firsthand, understand this better than anyone.
“Improving over time means that initially, only a limited number of people will receive it. But as proven here, people take pride in the marks left by overcoming smallpox, calling them sacred stigmata. It’s an honor to embody the wisdom bestowed by God.”
Though it’s all been said before, what’s he getting at?
“Shall we move on to the main topic? We have a meeting with King Richard soon.”
“Don’t worry. This is something King Richard, Emperor Heinrich VI, and I have already discussed. I’m just conveying it on their behalf.”
“Discussed? What about?”
“Well… once the war is over and the smallpox vaccinations begin, shouldn’t the countries that participated in the Crusade be the first to benefit?”
Ah, so that’s what this is about.
I figured this would come up eventually, and it seems Philip II sees the war nearing its end.
He wants a firm answer at this juncture.
“I understand. You’re saying England, France, and the Holy Roman Empire should be prioritized, right? I agree. Those who shed blood in battle should reap the first rewards.”
“Thank you for understanding. Could we also have some discretion in determining the order of vaccinations?”
“Ah… I see.”
Being freed from the fear of smallpox offers an indescribable relief in the medieval era.
It’s akin to having immunity to cancer in modern terms.
Though the mortality rates differ, considering smallpox’s contagiousness and its impact on children and the elderly, the comparison holds.
If a king could wield such influence, it would significantly bolster royal authority.
Even in this situation, Philip II is looking to solidify his power.
In the past, I might have opposed this, but not now.
“Let’s do that. Once this is over, we can discuss it with everyone else. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes. I’ll draft a preliminary plan while you handle your duties.”
“I trust you with it.”
Though the move towards absolute monarchy might seem unsettling, it’s built on my foundation.
In other words, any opposition to me would cause that power to crumble like a sandcastle, so I have nothing to fear.
In fact, I’m inclined to support the strengthening of royal authority through me, as it will solidify my position in the new order to come.
After finishing my conversation with Philip II, Richard and Al-Adil, waiting outside, signaled that the troops were ready.
It’s time to bring this to an end.
Southwest of the Euphrates River.
Near Lake Razaza.
Zelme, who volunteered for what he believed to be the only path to save the Mongol forces, felt his heart pounding with tension.
“General, they’re here. We can see their banners.”
“Good. Raise the white flag and approach them as planned.”
“But… are we really sure about this? I’ve heard there’s a monster among the enemy who can predict the future… doesn’t that mean our plan is already exposed?”
“That’s likely, but it changes nothing. If they try to avoid us, we’ll just keep following them with the white flag raised.”
If they kill those who come to surrender without question, so be it.
They’d have to come close to do so, and that would be enough time for the disease to spread, making the plan half-successful.
Neither Genghis Khan, who devised the plan, nor Zelme, who volunteered to execute it, expected to meet someone as high-ranking as a marshal or a Crusader king.
No one in their right mind would willingly meet with smallpox patients, even if they could see the future.
And it’s unlikely that such a person would be in a unit that pursued them this far.
But if they could somehow make contact with someone of reasonably high rank…
“General! They’ve responded. They want to bring you in!”
“Me? Does that mean they’re accepting our surrender?”
“Yes. Their commander wants to meet you personally.”
Is it really going this smoothly?
The surrender was, of course, a ruse. The plan was to feign negotiations and then break off.
The key was to meet with them, and if it was their commander, all the better.
Even with mild symptoms, everyone here was essentially a living weapon, so there was nothing to fear.
“Alright. Let’s see who their commander is.”
Despite the mild symptoms, his body felt like it was on fire, and the throbbing headache made it hard to move.
Yet, he could ride because everyone here had staked their lives on this mission.
To an outsider, it would be impossible to tell that these seemingly calm individuals were afflicted with a terrible plague.
The only oddity might be the bandages wrapped around their heads, but they had an excuse ready for that.
With superhuman endurance, Zelme endured the pain and was finally brought before the enemy commander.
He appeared to be around the same age as the Great Khan.
The enemy commander, smiling brightly, spoke through an interpreter.
“A surrender envoy from the Great Khan of the Mongols? Do the Mongols usually wear helmets when meeting others?”
“Of course not. But the scars from the last battle are so gruesome that I must cover them.”
As rehearsed, Zelme removed his helmet and pulled back a bandage to reveal a ghastly scar carved by a blade.
If the wound was as severe as it seemed, no one would find it odd for him to have his face wrapped in bandages.
Jelme cautiously observed the other man’s reaction. Seeing no hint of suspicion, he let out a silent sigh of relief.
“Oh dear, where did you get such a nasty wound?”
“Your knights’ swords are sharper than I expected. They gave me quite a scare.”
“Hahaha, I see. So, you felt the difference in skill and decided to send a delegation to surrender?”
Difference in skill, my foot.
If it weren’t for the outbreak, I wouldn’t have resorted to such tactics against the likes of you.
As they conversed face-to-face, Jelme found it amusing that the man was oblivious to the fact that he was currently exposed to the disease.
‘Let’s see. If we shake hands to seal the deal, I might just manage to pass the disease on perfectly…’
Just as he was waiting for the right moment, the unexpected happened. The man approached Jelme on his own, bent slightly, and met his eyes.
“But tell me, do you know who I am?”
“I only heard you’re the one in charge of this unit…”
“That’s right. I specifically asked them not to mention my name. Shall we make a formal introduction? I’m Edward Marshall. You might recognize me as the joint apostle of Christianity and Islam.”
“Edward… Marshall?”
The monster who could see the future, the mastermind who dragged this war into an endless quagmire.
Hearing that cursed name, Jelme’s eyes widened in shock.
‘What is this? Isn’t Edward Marshall supposed to see the future? Then why is he here? Does that mean the rumors were false? No, that can’t be… Otherwise, how do you explain everything that’s happened? Or did he come here knowing everything? No, that makes even less sense.’
Marshall looked down at the utterly bewildered Jelme, his smile unwavering, and spoke words that would completely unnerve him.
“You’ve done well to come all this way with smallpox. It’s a shame you went to such lengths to hide the rash with those ghastly wounds, only for it to be in vain.”
”…”
What was this? Did he really come here knowing everything?
“How naive. Did you really hope that the plague I unleashed would somehow backfire on me?”
The incomprehensible truth.
It was mercilessly shattering the last threads of Jelme’s sanity.