Bab 55: Volume 6 – Chapter 10 – Once an empire dies, another is created…
|Morning of November 9 – 1249 – Camp on the banks of the Tigris River (on the island) – Attila|
As the fire was dying down, everyone could still hear the cries and moans of the Khan's wife.
She called out to him relentlessly, in despair, but received no answer in return.
Almost as if by design, the fire on the shore occupied by the Mongols died out first, revealing the decapitated body of the Khan while I was holding his head.
His wife, after seeing him, stopped calling his name and let herself weep while holding her child in her arms.
Shortly after, the fire on our shore also died down, revealing the truth to our men.
I turned to my comrades and silently raised the Khan's head as a sign of triumph.
A cheer rose so loud it drowned out the woman's sobs.
This is how wars end—one side cheers, the other despairs.
I walked back toward the camp with the Khan's head still in my hand.
After delegating a nearby soldier to take care of it and preserve it (even though he looked like he was about to vomit from disgust), I called for Rasha.
She threw herself into my arms, and after a passionate kiss, she said, "I knew you could do it, though I admit I got worried once the fire started rising."
|Morning of December 3 – 1249 – Damascus – Attila|
I would have loved to stay in that gigantic, incredibly soft bed forever, but the sunlight wouldn't allow it.
Once I woke up, I found a letter beside the bed.
Apparently, I had been so tired that I didn't hear anyone enter the room—I had been very vulnerable at that moment.
Note to self: never fully fall asleep again.
I opened the letter.
In essence, it informed me of a meeting between all the representatives of the (temporary) alliance this morning, and I was invited to join the discussion.
So I got ready and went to the meeting.
Once I arrived, I waited before going in.
It was true that I had been invited, but I felt that I wasn't exactly welcome, so I limited myself to eavesdropping.
<<We were on the front lines to fight! You can't do this to us!>>
<<Exactly! We never thought you would be the one to make such a proposal!>>
<<Each of us has our own identity that is not the same as yours! We will not succumb to this!>>
Perfect, that's enough.
I entered the room, where I essentially saw people shouting at the Sultan, who seemed to be struggling.
I silently sat down to listen, and once they saw me, they stared for a couple of seconds before continuing to berate poor Al-Kamil.
<<We are not just helpless sheep to screw over as soon as we ask for help!>>
<<Indeed, ours was an effort of equal cooperation, and we will never bow to this request!>>
My fears were confirmed.
This is what happens when people become political leaders without knowing how to behave as such.
Well, I think it's time to intervene and offer the Sultan yet another favor.
<<That's enough, I've heard enough! Everyone, sit down and calm yourselves>> I shouted at them all.
<<And who the hell invited you here? Mind your own business and leave. It's none of a filthy Christian's concern what happens here>> replied one of the more hot-headed among them.
I responded:<<For now, you'd better shut up immediately because while you were jerking off behind your men, I killed the Khan personally with my bare hands. So sit down for two minutes and let me speak, or I'll kill you and all your men, understood?!>>
Finally, everyone fell silent.
At last, I could begin speaking: <<I understand the situation in broad terms. What you are saying is utterly absurd and nonsensical. The reality is this: a group of small states, threatened by the Mongol enemy, asked for help from more powerful kingdoms to defeat this threat. The stronger kingdoms agreed and formed a temporary alliance in a desperate situation. Now that the threat is gone, everyone is counting their money and drawing conclusions. Not only I, but take the Sultan for example—we didn't just help militarily to defeat the enemy and maintain control of the territory, but we also took in your refugees fleeing the war, filling our cities to the brim while still guaranteeing an acceptable standard of living. Who pays for all this? Certainly not us—you will pay for all this. And how? With money, of course, but after the war, it doesn't seem like any of you have much (if any). So how will you pay if you have little or nothing? With your national sovereignty. This doesn't necessarily mean you will be forced into Sultan's kingdom or have to give up territory, but in any case, you owe him a huge favor. But there are other factors to consider, for instance, let me name a few: will all your citizens really want to return to their villages after tasting life in Damascus or Acre? And if not all, how many will? And will those who do be enough to restart the economy of these small towns (and pay off the debt with money)? What guarantees they won't go bankrupt, or that other disasters won't happen? You need to understand that nothing in this world is free, and once you incur a debt, it doesn't simply vanish. I understand that you all want to return to being friends like before, but that's not possible. So, how do we solve this? In my opinion, since you all share a culture, language, and faith close to that of the Sultan's kingdom, I suggest you join it, but negotiate the right to be independent on many political matters. What I mean is that foreign policy would become the central kingdom's priority, while internal or local legislation would remain in your hands. Honestly, you don't have many choices, but this proposal seems to me the most reasonable solution. But I understand that these are not my affairs, so I'll leave you to your discussions. After all, I will speak with whomever I deem necessary. Thanks again for your hospitality, Sultan Al-Kamil. I'm heading back to Acre>>
After this long speech, I left the Arabs to their affairs.
|Morning of December 10 – 1249 – Balcony of Acre Castle – Acre – Attila|
Upon returning to Acre after a week, it was time to officially declare our victory.
By now, I've started to enjoy making proclamations and speeches from this beautiful balcony.
I think I'm beginning to understand, at least in part, what the dictators of the twentieth century felt.
Once I stepped onto the balcony, I saw nearly all the people of the city gathered, waiting to hear my speech.
It was time to begin.
<<Dearest citizens of Jerusalem and beyond, today I am proud to announce our incredible and fortunate VICTORY OVER THE MONGOLS!>>
The crowd cheered.
<<It was tough, but the story of how we did it is unbelievable. Well, your family members who went to the front and returned ALIVE will tell it. Meanwhile, we will sing the praises of those who sacrificed themselves for all of us. Don't believe me?! Here is the ultimate proof of the death of that cursed Batu Khan!>>
I showed them the head, which was now nearly rotting.
A single cry rose from the crowd: <<VICTORY! VICTORY!>>
Yes, it definitely felt like a fascist celebration.
<<Now, the Kingdom of Jerusalem can prosper in peace and try to create the ideal society! Worthy of our great history and immense culture! I declare an entire week of celebration for this victory of ours! And I want to sincerely thank all of you, as you know well, without you driving the economy and without the money to defend the kingdom from invaders, I would be nothing! Therefore, the festivities begin today! Celebrate, comrades! HURRAH!>>
<<HUURRRRAAAAAAA!!>>
While the crowd was in ecstasy, I was forced to return to reality.
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