One Baaaaaad Lamb
On his return to Baku, Qara Yusuf became bored of the constant peace that pervaded his khanate and angry with the refusal of Timur to grant him military access so he could fight with Kazakh against the forces of the Oirat Horde.
“I only called Timur lame once… I mean, that nickname isn’t going to even stick…”
The only excitement that occurred, in fact, was a short lived rebellion in the recently conquered Georgian provinces, which was quickly subdued. He tried to become interested in Iskander’s education; however, Iskander was not progressing quickly with his studies, not even knowing how to ride a horse at the age of 15. As time progressed, Qara Yusuf handed more and more power over to Jahan, including most issues dealing with foreign affairs and yet, despite the turmoil in the region, Jahan failed to capitalize on any of the opportunities presented due to the constant threat of the Timurids.
Anarchy in the Jalayirids
The restless Khan then demanded war against the Timurids for imagined faults:
“They are weak and we can take advantage of them”
“They called my Dushbara uninspiring!”
“Their Khan has the same title as me!”
Jahan soon dispelled these ambitions with a quick look at the distribution of forces:
Fortunately for Qara Koyunlu, the Khan became distracted by another revolt by the Georgians, as well as an interesting occurance which brought instability back to the Khanate.
”Anyone caught looking at the sky will be publicly flogged!”- Royal Edict
Unfortunately (for the Khan, that is, not Jahan), after this series of interesting events, calm once again pervaded the land. Not even the imagined war between the Khanate and the Oirat Horde persisted, as the Kazakh and the Oirat Horde no longer even shared a border.
Jahan took this time to create an effective bureaucracy and favor those that could pay him over those that waved titles in his face. However, he watched as the Khan grew listless and took this as evidence that; perhaps, he wanted to see Hasan, the son he had sent to Mazandaran four years ago. Jahan took the step to invite the brothers, as well as many other dignitaries to a giant feast, which he hoped would alleviate Qara Yusuf’s boredom.
On the last day of October, 1406, Qara Yusuf and Iskander saw their son and brother respectively, as a changed man. He had grown quite corpulent in his time away, having a difficult time riding his horse as he approached the pavilion in Baku where the dinner was to be held. Wearing a long, dark robe and oddly cut hair, he maintained what some might call a malicious look; however, this changed as he saw his father, into a face of joy. With some difficulty, Hasan dismounted his horse, waddled over to his father, and happily gave him a large hug. After some long deserved catching up, Hasan offered to cook a dish for the feast which he had learned to cook while spending time in Mazandaran, which the Khan happily obliged. Following the feast, which was by all accounts a jocular and ostentatious affair, everyone retired for the night.
In the morning, everything progressed as normal. Jahan entered the Khan’s tent to discuss matters of state, while everyone else gathered outside, waiting to see Qara Yusuf. Jahan emerged as usual, though his face had what appeared to be a touch of sorrow to it, and quickly summoned a guard, whispered something in his ear, then addressed the gathered crowd.
“The Khan wishes for his son, Qara Yusuf Hasan, to ride north and bring gifts to the village elders in Dagestan and Shirvan. He further stipulates that he should depart immediately. Dawood Mjerefa (داود مجرفة ), you will assist Hasan in the journey”
A man, of medium height and combed over light blond hair, came forward and guided Hasan to two horses which were prepared for their journey. They both bade farewell and departed, with Hasan’s awkward riding soon being lost to sight over the hills to the north.
As quickly as Hasan and Dawood had left, Jahan called the leaders of the Khanate to a meeting, including Iskander. As everyone gathered together, Jahan’s face took the airs of extreme sadness, as he said, barely above a whisper,
“The Khan is dead”.
Two miles north of the city, Hasan had asked Dawood to stop, so that he could collect some water from a nearby stream. As Hasan was rummaging among his belongings, he called Dawood over.
“Dawood, I have something to tell you.”
“What is it?” Dawood asked, slightly annoyed that their trip had been delayed.
“Come closer, I trust no one with this secret” Dawood drew nearer, eager to learn something that may improve his position within the Khanates nomadic society. Hasan leaned in, his normally smiling face wreathed in a mask of mystery, and whispered, “When you see my father, tell him Tommy Boy was better”.
As Dawood began to slump forward, Hasan, with a malicious smile on his face, withdrew the knife, wiping the blood on Dawood’s already stained clothing. After quickly rummaging through Dawood’s supplies, Hasan deftly leapt onto his horse and spurred it south, intending to skirt Baku and return to Mazandaran.
“Now it is time to claim my kingdom”
