Episode 197
Chinggis Khan left the tent after receiving a warm welcome from Marshal, but he remained silent the entire way back to his camp.
He felt humiliated, having been forced to listen to the enemy without being able to say a word.
As the Great Khan of the Mongol Empire, he should have displayed more authority, but his failure to do so filled him with rage.
Yet, it wasn’t just anger he felt.
To be precise, he was so numb that there was no room for such human emotions to creep in.
His mind felt empty, unable to think or even want to think.
Fortunately, Subutai, noticing his return, quickly called a meeting, sparing him the effort.
Chinggis Khan still said nothing, and as Subutai listened to the account of the meeting from those who had accompanied the Khan, his face turned pale.
Normally, this place would be bustling with voices exchanging opinions, but now there were only four people present: Chinggis Khan, Subutai, Tiraun, and Kublai.
The others were either stricken with smallpox or had just barely recovered and were in no condition to attend.
Even Boorchu, who had always been by Chinggis Khan’s side, was struggling on the brink of death, unable to overcome the plague.
With the atmosphere shattered like this, no one openly opposed the absurd conditions set by Marshal.
All that could be heard were sighs, wondering how things had come to this.
Of course, it wasn’t as if they were resigned to accepting it without a fight.
Tiraun was the first to speak up.
“Still, isn’t it unreasonable to accept all those conditions? Shouldn’t we try to negotiate a bit more?”
Chinggis Khan gazed steadily at his subordinate, who cautiously offered his opinion.
His spirit was admirable, but perhaps it was because he hadn’t experienced what the Khan had.
If Tiraun had been present at the meeting with Marshal, would he still be saying such things?
As expected, Tiraun, who had tasted Marshal’s power firsthand, shook his head in disbelief.
“Negotiate? To negotiate, we need something to put on the scales, but what do we have to offer right now?”
“If we show them we’re willing to fight to the death, wouldn’t that change things?”
“Ha… Think about it from their perspective. Isn’t it obvious how absurd that sounds? Most of our troops are incapacitated by the plague, and the longer this goes on, the worse it will get. Didn’t you hear what Muhammad said? Out of ten who catch it, three will die from this smallpox.”
“I know. I know, but it’s frustrating.”
A mortality rate of 30% doesn’t mean only three out of ten will die and that’s it.
If the disease is that severe, the seven who survive won’t be in good shape either.
During the high fever, it’s hard to even stand, and with rashes all over, riding a horse is out of the question.
Even Jelme, who had mild symptoms, struggled to lift a weapon, and this disease was now rampant in the army.
The fear of becoming like that at any moment was spreading among the soldiers, causing even those not yet infected to tremble in fear.
Considering the mental aspect, there might be less than 10% of the army capable of fighting properly.
And Marshal, who unleashed this plague, surely knew this.
“Even if we claim we’re ready to fight to the death, they could just say, ‘Go ahead,’ and that would be the end of it. From what I see, they’ve already anticipated our route and set up an ambush. In this situation, we could be completely annihilated.”
The prophecy was clear: if they chose to fight, not a single person would survive except the Great Khan.
Those present had already experienced Marshal’s power firsthand.
Neither Chinggis Khan, Tiraun, Subutai, nor Kublai had the courage to gamble their lives to test the prophecy’s truth.
Subutai, who had been silent, seemed to have made up his mind and nodded.
“Better to accept their terms than to die here. The conditions are harsh, but at least we can keep our horses, so it’s not a total loss. And fortunately, if you can call it that…”
He hesitated, uncharacteristically cautious, and Chinggis Khan spoke for the first time.
“Go on, speak your mind.”
“It’s a bit embarrassing to rely on that prophecy, but… didn’t Marshal say that if the Great Khan returns, he will rise again? It’s a hundred times wiser to plan for the future than to die here.”
“He did say that. Haha, he spoke as if I should be grateful that I could rise again if I returned. It was absurd, yet somehow reassuring.”
Many leaders fall and never rise again after losing a war.
Unlike them, Chinggis Khan had always overcome defeat, but this war was different.
It was a defeat on a scale he had never experienced, with countless soldiers doomed to die.
In such a situation, the enemy, who could predict the future with certainty, assured him that he could rise again if he returned quietly. How could he feel?
It was a mix of unprecedented humiliation, filth, anger, and relief—a feeling beyond words.
He had kept silent because he couldn’t even define his own state.
“No matter how much we discuss, the conclusion is that we have no choice but to comply with their demands. Instead, we must plan what to do next based on that.”
“They said to leave behind the severely ill… Should we hand them over as slaves? Is there no way to pay a ransom and bring them back?”
“Considering the amount of compensation, paying a ransom is impossible. And given the hostility the Muslims have towards us, they wouldn’t even listen if we offered a ransom.”
They might even demand an exorbitant ransom to render negotiations meaningless.
“Still, we should be grateful that those not yet infected or with mild symptoms can return safely. The important thing is to prevent more severe cases by enforcing strict quarantine, right?”
“That’s true. And since they’ve demanded disarmament, we must avoid any potential conflicts.”
“But why did they insist on escorting us to the border after disarming us?”
Logically, once disarmed, the Mongol army posed no significant threat to the Crusaders or Muslims.
Moreover, with so many sick, why bother with an escort?
“Could it be that they want to ensure we deliver the compensation?”
“No. It would have been easier to just tell us to bring it to them.”
After such a crushing defeat and suffering from the plague, who would be foolish enough to break the treaty immediately?
A few years later, they might refuse, but if they’ve agreed to deliver the compensation now, there’s no reason not to.
“My guess is… they’re worried about the spread of our plague. They want to ensure we don’t spread it elsewhere by managing us closely.”
“That makes sense. It’s a reasonable explanation.”
If that were the reason, Chinggis Khan might have been able to pressure Marshal.
He could have threatened to spread the smallpox to nearby villages.
Of course, in his half-crazed state, he couldn’t have thought of such a strategy, but now he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret.
Tiraun’s rebuttal, however, quickly dispelled any lingering regrets.
“Great Khan, there’s one thing you’re forgetting: this plague only affects us. It’s been proven that the Shia with us aren’t getting sick.”
“Ah… that’s right. I forgot for a moment because it’s such an unbelievable fact.”
The idea that a plague could selectively infect certain people was unheard of, but what could they do if it was true?
Or perhaps only Marshal’s troops were immune to smallpox?
No, since the Shia weren’t affected either, that wasn’t it.
So there was no need to worry about it spreading to civilians, but why go through such trouble… Oh, forget it.
As before, trying to unravel anything involving Marshal made his head feel like it would explode from the tangled thoughts.
In the end, Chinggis Khan decided to stop thinking about it, accepting Subutai’s point that complying with their demands, painful as it was, would ultimately minimize their losses.
As for the lost wealth, there were still prosperous lands in the east. They could replenish their resources by raiding the Central Plains and Jiangnan.
Once they returned to the steppes, he vowed never to set foot in this cursed west again.
Not even to milk a mare in that direction.
Thus, the name Edward Marshal became a nightmare that every Mongol soldier wished to forget until their dying day.
If anyone ever used the phrase “possessed by a ghost,” they might get angry and tell them not to say such things unless they’d experienced it themselves.
Because unless you’ve truly experienced it, you can’t understand how filthy, absurd, and powerless it feels to face such an insurmountable wall.
Though they accepted the terms, there was a lingering worry that the enemy might change their minds.
But it turned out to be unfounded.
In fact, it seemed the Mongols were more afraid that this side might change their minds and decide to kill them all, so they meekly followed the proposal like lambs.
Such a victory was rare, but the satisfaction among the people was exceptionally high.
The Crusaders, in particular, were ecstatic about the outcome of the negotiations, especially because of the substantial reparations they managed to extract from Khwarezm.
“I think it’s only right that the money the Mongols took from Khwarezm should come to us,” one of them remarked.
“I agree with Emperor Heinrich VI. This isn’t about greed; it’s about claiming what we rightfully deserve from Khwarezm. It’s a legitimate exercise of our rights,” another added.
As Heinrich VI and Philip II exchanged words to sway public opinion, Richard nodded silently in agreement, solidifying the Crusaders’ unity like a rock.
It wasn’t just a baseless claim; they had a solid justification, making it, as Philip II said, a rightful exercise of their rights.
Of course, they had preemptively established various agreements to prevent such issues, but the problem was that the potential gains far exceeded those agreements.
Naturally, the Islamic side couldn’t just sit back and say, “Of course, Crusader lords, take everything. It’s all yours,” like fools.
In fact, the Mongols had seized an overwhelming amount of loot from Khwarezm.
If the Crusaders took all of Khwarezm’s treasures and divided the rest equally, the Ayyubids would end up with less than a third of what the Crusaders had.
In other words, if left unchecked, this sensitive issue could easily lead to tensions, if not outright conflict.
However, from a different perspective, this might be the perfect opportunity to announce a plan they had been considering.
Such an opportunity couldn’t be missed.
“Ladies and gentlemen, everyone knows that the best way to celebrate a shared victory is through fair distribution of the spoils. Therefore, we must approach this with caution and ensure no discord arises.”
It was common knowledge, even to a three-year-old, that there was only one person capable of balancing the interests of both Europe and Islam.
“I’ll arrange a meeting as soon as I return to Damascus.”
Now, it’s time to reshape the world’s order.