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

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

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, displaying 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 incompetence, being defeated by an inferior enemy, or it only proved Arabian competence. 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 plan to stop Arabs. His orders from the Shahanshah were that he had to stop the Arabs, not defeat them. And he planned 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. Walaja.

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 Uballa. 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 Uballa with an army. Hold the city at all costs and, if possible, defeat the Arabs. I will give you two commanders, 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 the last time he saw him.

The reports came a few weeks later, in the late April. Clear as day and dark as night. Qarin, Quban and Anoshagan – all three dead. Died before the battle even started. Apparently invited opposing generals to a duel and were slain. All three of them. But according 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 succumbed. Twenty thousand laid dead, and for what? Uballa was lost, army lost three of their best generals and twenty thousand families lacked 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 to comforts of the palace. But now, on a road in a carriage it wasn't so comfortable. He had couldn't sleep at nights and fell asleep only when he collapsed from lack 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 be completely 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. Walaja. Another battle lost. Another ten thousand dead. "When will this end?" he thought. This bloodshed. n()o(.V/(E/)l()b/)I/(n

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