Lose a battle you were confidant you were going to win and then lose your horse especially one that had been with him with him for a time and I think there is trouble coming. Why do I have a feeling somebody is coming unhinged.
Jerusalem Calling - A Khazarian AAR
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This was definitely an important lesson for Tarkhan although one I doubt he will learn. He is no longer invincible despite his dueling skills remaining impressive.
Ashina horses have always been important, might the loss of dragon be an omen of things to come?
Ashina horses have always been important, might the loss of dragon be an omen of things to come?
Enjoyed the duel scene, and it looks as if Tarkhans downward spiral is accelrating, his madness has been mostly subtle so far compared to his father but these events could have a drastic effect on the Khagan.
Thanks to all of you for the recurring feedback. I really, really appreciate it and it's more than overdue to mention it. 
It is indeed a pivotal point for Tarkhan's reign - yet things might turn out a little different than (reasonably) expected. This is mainly because of a circumstance mentioned little throughout the text itself: At the point where we are, Khazaria is incredibly strong.
Apart from Tarkhan's streak of conquests, his vassals start to win their wars as well now, and once united the hordes could take on pretty much any opponent. Tarkhan himself isn't well liked for the continuous losses draining his prestige, but the horde and the population backing it can take much more damage than that before things would turn difficult. No other Khagan or Khan in the Steppes has a comparable reserve to his disposal.
Where his own path leads the Khagan is an entirely different question though. The only thing that's unlikely is that he will change his interests much, judging from accounts about him at seven years of age:
Well, the light-heartedness did subside at some point too, now that I read it properly.
It is indeed a pivotal point for Tarkhan's reign - yet things might turn out a little different than (reasonably) expected. This is mainly because of a circumstance mentioned little throughout the text itself: At the point where we are, Khazaria is incredibly strong.
Apart from Tarkhan's streak of conquests, his vassals start to win their wars as well now, and once united the hordes could take on pretty much any opponent. Tarkhan himself isn't well liked for the continuous losses draining his prestige, but the horde and the population backing it can take much more damage than that before things would turn difficult. No other Khagan or Khan in the Steppes has a comparable reserve to his disposal.
Where his own path leads the Khagan is an entirely different question though. The only thing that's unlikely is that he will change his interests much, judging from accounts about him at seven years of age:
Well, the light-heartedness did subside at some point too, now that I read it properly.
Chapter 73 - Inglorious
Chapter 73 - Inglorious
August 12, 917 AD
Tana
Khatun Yartilek sat in the council hall and studied letters from royal houses all over the world, as ever so often, when her co-brother-in-law Vencel peaked into the yurt.
"Looking after marriage offers again?", Vencel asked with a smile when he recognized the colourful mix of insignia on the papers before the Khatun, who was known to be the mind behind the Ashina's diplomatic marriage web. His own foster daughter Mala was one of the more prominent examples for Yartilek's duties and had ascended to nothing less than the Queen of Italy two years ago.
Yartilek looked up and gave a minute smirk back. "You got it. Çilen's twins turn twelve in November, and it is about time to look for suitable betrothals. No easy task with their mother constantly upon your back and discontent with everything... But someone's got to do the job, isn't it so?"
"Your word in God's ear. I sure know what you are speaking of. I bring news from Tarkhan."
"I suspected it."
A few weeks earlier, Yartilek and Vencel made their own attempt to persuade Tarkhan to end the war by means of a long letter, describing the various security risks to the realm and his trusted circle from the continued heavy recruitment and the absence of the horde from its homeland. The Khagan was not one to take these issues lightly, and the Khatun had hoped for a quick reaction.
"It may not be exactly what you expect, though..." Vencel looked to the floor in apparent unease.
Yartilek sighed. "Out with it already. I don't have all day."
"I have orders to...well...send you and little Zachariah into hiding until further notice."
Yartilek frowned. "Now that is...unexpected indeed. This one of all conclusions? We did not even mention me or Zachariah."
"I do not know his exact reasoning either. Apparently we should have been even more clear about what we meant", Vencel replied. "He must have misread something concerning rebellious elements throughout the court..."
The Khatun shook her head. "I doubt it would have helped. He has probably read only what he wanted to. And a white peace is not what he wants, we all knew that already... Maybe there is even something to his idea. The other clan members obviously have upped their game since Baghatur's return and Simsam entering the picture. Ever since Khan Böri was murdered, Tarkhan was deeply worried about them, even though he has been barely around for years. We still do not know what exactly they are up to."
"Well, we do to some degree...although no one quite knows what to make of it. Baghatur has bandwagoned with Tarkhan's siblings, that much we know. But he is also a part of Simsam's apparent plan to target his own wife, Princess Namena of Serbia. Whatever Simsam pursues with that, he has a lot of people on his side. Namena was never very popular around the court, and the Ashina have quite the network."
"Tell me about it", Yartilek replied. "They have their eyes and ears well placed. Plotting on them is bound to cause nothing but trouble. Yes, maybe it is for the better if Zachariah and I leave the picture for a while. As long as it is a temporary measure. One or the other way, this war has to end eventually."
"That is to be hoped. I have already thought of a remote location in the Carpathians, in reach of my own domain. Everything would be arranged for by my personal guard, keeping the circle of involved people to a minimum. Other than me, Tarkhan and you nobody would have to know of your whereabouts."
Yartilek nodded in approval. "A change of air might even be pleasant for the little guy." She thought about how Zachariah, as vital and alert a toddler he was, sometimes behaved odd when he was around the camp, crawling on all four despite having learned to walk at a perfectly normal age and sniffing around. He greeted other children and animals alike with a characteristic growl and sometimes, when he was defiant, he bit.
Only when taken out into the open steppes or the woods that seamed parts of the Don banks, he seemed resolved. Then he was running around and catching butterflies like any other child of his age would.
"I still want you to also inform my brother in all due secrecy. He is as loyal to the Khaganate as I, and I need a contact to my own clan for all cases."
"It will be done. Thank you for being so understanding, milady."
Vencel breathed through. He knew the Khatun was a sensible woman and wouldn't object to an order from Tarkhan, but this could have gone far more unpleasant as far as he was concerned. Then again, it likely solved none of the problems he and the Khatun had initially pointed out to Tarkhan. Getting him to finally take advice would continue to be the greater challenge.
March 16, 918 AD
Ashina Horde Camp, Samara
In full gallop, Marshal Samsam Jabdertim rode through the vast encampment of the Ashina horde that stretched around the yurts that usually made up the Dulo clan's homestead and were recently abandoned upon the Khazars making advances once again. The settlement was almost empty when they arrived in Samara, and now Khagan Tarkhan and his entourage resided in the rather comfortable lodgings usually meant for the ruling class of the Dulo Khanate. Once again, the war had taken a turn during winter.
In October, Khagan Tiradin sent another offer of white peace to Khazaria, this time under the threat of calling the Cumans into the war should Tarkhan not back down. Tarkhan laughed at the befuddled messenger for two minutes, then chased him out with a sabre and a torch, screaming there was only victory or death for a true son of the steppes. The Cumans had then declared war and the Bolghar horde stormed towards Tarkhan's host in Khopyor from the north, apparently confident they could repeat their earlier victory and seal the war once and for all.
It quickly turned out that now they were the ones to overestimate their own strength. This time around, the Ashina troops were concentrated and well prepared. Tarkhan and his general staff had learned from their own mistakes committed throughout this far too long ordeal – and they could draw upon a population of roughly double the size of Bolghar's to reinforce their numbers, with new men coming of age every day despite the continuous losses. Since the defeat of Nizhniy Novgorod, another legion of young men from the now rather quiet eastern parts of the Ashina lands had been raised as soldiers and reinforced the Ashina horde. The Khazars had the numerical advantage once again, and they made use of it.
The united Ezgil and Dulo hordes, along with the smaller hosts of the Khanates on the fringe of the realm, were beaten back severely and the Mordvin lands secured. The bulk of the horde then moved into Samara, from where it would be able to counter any movement toward there once the Bolghar regrouped. There also was no sign of Cuman activity in the East yet.
Marshal Samsam arrived at his destination. The Khagan was brooding over a map and looked up with tired eyes and slight indignation. Nobody had said anything about a visitor coming up. When he recognized Samsam, most of his annoyance turned into genuine surprise though.
"Khan Samsam? I thought you were still busy in the Rus?"
The Marshal wondered where the Khagan got his information from in these days and raised an eyebrow. "I've not been to Russia in months. The men there do not need my oversight anymore. King Ingvar is beaten, his heartland occupied and all that remains is to take down the individual tribes to the north and east of his lands."
"I've been in a lot of places recently...I actually heed from Tana", Samsam continued.
Tarkhan remained unmoved. "Is that so? I guess this thing here has been taking all my attention lately... So what is it that brings you here on such short notice?"
"Worrying news, to say the least, my Khagan...news from the council. Vencel was assassinated less than a week ago."
"What?" Tarkhan was a lot more attentive all of a sudden. "By the Nine Hells, those godforsaken snakes! Now that my family is out of reach, they go for my sources...you are right, this is more than worrisome, it is a crisis, at least as long as the perpetrator is running free. What about Sarantay and her boys?"
"I have immediately headed here when the news came in and not heard anything yet. They should be safe in Suceava though. Your nephew rules the Barony now."
Vencel's and Sarantay's eldest son was named Samsam as well, a talented and receptive young lad, yet he was always somewhat scruffy. His fiery red hair and beard made him stand out and a frequent target of scorn among his mostly Khazar pals in younger years, and with time he figured since his appearance would never fit in anyway, there was little reason to take care of it beyond the necessary.
"At least", said Tarkhan who had stood up from his chair and was now pacing back and forth. "And Yartilek and Zachariah?"
"They ought to be fine, too. Now no one knows where they are except me and you. I should notify the other Samsam timely, now that you mention it."
"I am not sure about that. Samsam has other interests than his father. He's going to inherit a claim to the Khaganate some time, and there is too much we do not know...no, let him out of that until further notice. We have to find a solution by ourselves."
"Very well. I will look for them as soon as possible. There's also the urgent need for a new spymaster now. An unenviable task..."
Tarkhan turned around and looked at Samsam scrutinizingly. "Absolutely. The current situation calls for someone with more leverage than Vencel, who knows his way around the shady side of things so he does not get stabbed in the back as well – and someone I can trust...which leaves little options. You have to do it, Samsam. It's the only choice that comes to my mind."
Samsam raised his eyebrows in surprise and did not look enthusiastic overall. "Me? But..."
"Who else should do it?", Tarkhan interrupted him harshly.
Samsam kept silent. He could not think of anyone because there was actually no one that fit the Khagan's description. And he was right. Appointing someone powerless or incompetent would not solve anything besides getting another person killed. And of the powerful Khans, he was the only one with a direct line to his brother-in-law Tarkhan.
"But who is going to be Marshal then?", he finally ejected.
"Oh, that doesn't matter nearly as much as the spymaster. The Marshal is mainly there to pass on my orders and bellow at recruits. A skilled commander with just the right disposition should be possible to find."
Samsam was visibly skeptical and more than a little upset how Tarkhan thought about his work. He wanted to return something, but Tarkhan already called a guard in and ordered him to get General Vasiliy to him as fast as possible without even giving note to Samsam.
"I am relying on you, Samsam", the Khagan returned to his new spymaster. "There is more to this than Muhan plotting from wherever he is right now. Get back to Tana, find out who is behind this and bring me his arse. You know that I reward skill and loyalty richly."
July 7, 918 AD
Tana
Khan Vakrim was on his way toward the Khagan's yurt. More than once his councillors had tried to get something out of him in the past days, but were sent off by a grumpy Tarkhan who wasn't at all in the mood for politics. Maybe he would be more receptive today for some reason. The chancellor wasn't all too confident of it, but he tried his best to not let it show.
A week ago Tarkhan had returned from the campaign on Bolghar - victorious once again, after four years of war and against heavy odds at times. The Ashina horde had cut the enemy off in Chuvash, and Khagan Tiradin had thrown all of his his forces against them in one last desperate attempt – and lost once again. The reinforcements from the Dulo came in too late and caused even more chaos among the already routed Bolghar forces, resulting in a defeat so desastrous that it left no choice but to finally surrender the Duchy of Mordva to Khazaria.
Still Tarkhan's reception at home had been rather cold, with most of the remaining populace consisting of women and elderly people. Everyone was busy feeding their children and tired of the Khagan's perpetual wars. The ceremony to bestow him the Counties conquered from Bolghar ended in a scandal when Tarkhan insulted the few bystanders and the Court Rabbi because he did not feel treated appropriately. Ever since, he had been disgruntled, and the rejection of the people was tangible after such a dishonorable appearance.
Vakrim greeted the guards and asked for the Khagan.
"He's right inside. But don't expect much." was the answer, and so Vakrim peeked into the tent reluctantly. Tarkhan leaned in his large chair, with a stern face and closed eyes.
The chancellor was unsure what to do. Just when he wanted to sneak out the yurt again, he heard a hoarse "What is it?" from behind.
Vakrim turned around again. "Uhm...I did not want to disturb you..."
"And yet you did", Tarkhan replied soundingy terribly tired. "Now at least tell me why. I've been planning to quarter someone all day."
The confused Vakrim replied "It's nothing important...just that the council is not sure yet what is planned with the lands from Bolghar and..."
Tarkhan made a dismissive gesture. "Have them. Take those lands. I don't mind. They're next to yours, and those bastards out there do not care about conquests anyway."
"What? I mean, are you"
"You know exactly what I am talking about...the slander in the alleys, the shady figures behind my back...wresting down your equal in battle, hard-fought victories, the blood spilled on enemy lands...this all means nothing to them. All they see is their own good."
Vakrim nodded, but in truth he had little idea who Tarkhan could mean.
"Go before I change my mind. Congratulations to your new land. Consider this my proposal to the council, have your writers set up a document or whatever it takes. I just want to be left alone", the Khagan continued and waved the chancellor away.
Vakrim went, overwhelmed that he should get the actually quite valuable Mordvin lands just like that. This would put him potentially on par with the Jabdertim and Bulçir in terms of manpower, given some time to grow into the new space. Of course it was great news for his clan, but what would the other Khans say to this, especially Samsam whose Jabdertim clan feuded against the Hekel since decades? Would anyone even believe it?
August 12, 917 AD
Tana
Khatun Yartilek sat in the council hall and studied letters from royal houses all over the world, as ever so often, when her co-brother-in-law Vencel peaked into the yurt.
"Looking after marriage offers again?", Vencel asked with a smile when he recognized the colourful mix of insignia on the papers before the Khatun, who was known to be the mind behind the Ashina's diplomatic marriage web. His own foster daughter Mala was one of the more prominent examples for Yartilek's duties and had ascended to nothing less than the Queen of Italy two years ago.
Yartilek looked up and gave a minute smirk back. "You got it. Çilen's twins turn twelve in November, and it is about time to look for suitable betrothals. No easy task with their mother constantly upon your back and discontent with everything... But someone's got to do the job, isn't it so?"
"Your word in God's ear. I sure know what you are speaking of. I bring news from Tarkhan."
"I suspected it."
A few weeks earlier, Yartilek and Vencel made their own attempt to persuade Tarkhan to end the war by means of a long letter, describing the various security risks to the realm and his trusted circle from the continued heavy recruitment and the absence of the horde from its homeland. The Khagan was not one to take these issues lightly, and the Khatun had hoped for a quick reaction.
"It may not be exactly what you expect, though..." Vencel looked to the floor in apparent unease.
Yartilek sighed. "Out with it already. I don't have all day."
"I have orders to...well...send you and little Zachariah into hiding until further notice."
Yartilek frowned. "Now that is...unexpected indeed. This one of all conclusions? We did not even mention me or Zachariah."
"I do not know his exact reasoning either. Apparently we should have been even more clear about what we meant", Vencel replied. "He must have misread something concerning rebellious elements throughout the court..."
The Khatun shook her head. "I doubt it would have helped. He has probably read only what he wanted to. And a white peace is not what he wants, we all knew that already... Maybe there is even something to his idea. The other clan members obviously have upped their game since Baghatur's return and Simsam entering the picture. Ever since Khan Böri was murdered, Tarkhan was deeply worried about them, even though he has been barely around for years. We still do not know what exactly they are up to."
"Well, we do to some degree...although no one quite knows what to make of it. Baghatur has bandwagoned with Tarkhan's siblings, that much we know. But he is also a part of Simsam's apparent plan to target his own wife, Princess Namena of Serbia. Whatever Simsam pursues with that, he has a lot of people on his side. Namena was never very popular around the court, and the Ashina have quite the network."
"Tell me about it", Yartilek replied. "They have their eyes and ears well placed. Plotting on them is bound to cause nothing but trouble. Yes, maybe it is for the better if Zachariah and I leave the picture for a while. As long as it is a temporary measure. One or the other way, this war has to end eventually."
"That is to be hoped. I have already thought of a remote location in the Carpathians, in reach of my own domain. Everything would be arranged for by my personal guard, keeping the circle of involved people to a minimum. Other than me, Tarkhan and you nobody would have to know of your whereabouts."
Yartilek nodded in approval. "A change of air might even be pleasant for the little guy." She thought about how Zachariah, as vital and alert a toddler he was, sometimes behaved odd when he was around the camp, crawling on all four despite having learned to walk at a perfectly normal age and sniffing around. He greeted other children and animals alike with a characteristic growl and sometimes, when he was defiant, he bit.
Only when taken out into the open steppes or the woods that seamed parts of the Don banks, he seemed resolved. Then he was running around and catching butterflies like any other child of his age would.
"I still want you to also inform my brother in all due secrecy. He is as loyal to the Khaganate as I, and I need a contact to my own clan for all cases."
"It will be done. Thank you for being so understanding, milady."
Vencel breathed through. He knew the Khatun was a sensible woman and wouldn't object to an order from Tarkhan, but this could have gone far more unpleasant as far as he was concerned. Then again, it likely solved none of the problems he and the Khatun had initially pointed out to Tarkhan. Getting him to finally take advice would continue to be the greater challenge.
March 16, 918 AD
Ashina Horde Camp, Samara
In full gallop, Marshal Samsam Jabdertim rode through the vast encampment of the Ashina horde that stretched around the yurts that usually made up the Dulo clan's homestead and were recently abandoned upon the Khazars making advances once again. The settlement was almost empty when they arrived in Samara, and now Khagan Tarkhan and his entourage resided in the rather comfortable lodgings usually meant for the ruling class of the Dulo Khanate. Once again, the war had taken a turn during winter.
In October, Khagan Tiradin sent another offer of white peace to Khazaria, this time under the threat of calling the Cumans into the war should Tarkhan not back down. Tarkhan laughed at the befuddled messenger for two minutes, then chased him out with a sabre and a torch, screaming there was only victory or death for a true son of the steppes. The Cumans had then declared war and the Bolghar horde stormed towards Tarkhan's host in Khopyor from the north, apparently confident they could repeat their earlier victory and seal the war once and for all.
It quickly turned out that now they were the ones to overestimate their own strength. This time around, the Ashina troops were concentrated and well prepared. Tarkhan and his general staff had learned from their own mistakes committed throughout this far too long ordeal – and they could draw upon a population of roughly double the size of Bolghar's to reinforce their numbers, with new men coming of age every day despite the continuous losses. Since the defeat of Nizhniy Novgorod, another legion of young men from the now rather quiet eastern parts of the Ashina lands had been raised as soldiers and reinforced the Ashina horde. The Khazars had the numerical advantage once again, and they made use of it.
The united Ezgil and Dulo hordes, along with the smaller hosts of the Khanates on the fringe of the realm, were beaten back severely and the Mordvin lands secured. The bulk of the horde then moved into Samara, from where it would be able to counter any movement toward there once the Bolghar regrouped. There also was no sign of Cuman activity in the East yet.
Marshal Samsam arrived at his destination. The Khagan was brooding over a map and looked up with tired eyes and slight indignation. Nobody had said anything about a visitor coming up. When he recognized Samsam, most of his annoyance turned into genuine surprise though.
"Khan Samsam? I thought you were still busy in the Rus?"
The Marshal wondered where the Khagan got his information from in these days and raised an eyebrow. "I've not been to Russia in months. The men there do not need my oversight anymore. King Ingvar is beaten, his heartland occupied and all that remains is to take down the individual tribes to the north and east of his lands."
"I've been in a lot of places recently...I actually heed from Tana", Samsam continued.
Tarkhan remained unmoved. "Is that so? I guess this thing here has been taking all my attention lately... So what is it that brings you here on such short notice?"
"Worrying news, to say the least, my Khagan...news from the council. Vencel was assassinated less than a week ago."
"What?" Tarkhan was a lot more attentive all of a sudden. "By the Nine Hells, those godforsaken snakes! Now that my family is out of reach, they go for my sources...you are right, this is more than worrisome, it is a crisis, at least as long as the perpetrator is running free. What about Sarantay and her boys?"
"I have immediately headed here when the news came in and not heard anything yet. They should be safe in Suceava though. Your nephew rules the Barony now."
Vencel's and Sarantay's eldest son was named Samsam as well, a talented and receptive young lad, yet he was always somewhat scruffy. His fiery red hair and beard made him stand out and a frequent target of scorn among his mostly Khazar pals in younger years, and with time he figured since his appearance would never fit in anyway, there was little reason to take care of it beyond the necessary.
"At least", said Tarkhan who had stood up from his chair and was now pacing back and forth. "And Yartilek and Zachariah?"
"They ought to be fine, too. Now no one knows where they are except me and you. I should notify the other Samsam timely, now that you mention it."
"I am not sure about that. Samsam has other interests than his father. He's going to inherit a claim to the Khaganate some time, and there is too much we do not know...no, let him out of that until further notice. We have to find a solution by ourselves."
"Very well. I will look for them as soon as possible. There's also the urgent need for a new spymaster now. An unenviable task..."
Tarkhan turned around and looked at Samsam scrutinizingly. "Absolutely. The current situation calls for someone with more leverage than Vencel, who knows his way around the shady side of things so he does not get stabbed in the back as well – and someone I can trust...which leaves little options. You have to do it, Samsam. It's the only choice that comes to my mind."
Samsam raised his eyebrows in surprise and did not look enthusiastic overall. "Me? But..."
"Who else should do it?", Tarkhan interrupted him harshly.
Samsam kept silent. He could not think of anyone because there was actually no one that fit the Khagan's description. And he was right. Appointing someone powerless or incompetent would not solve anything besides getting another person killed. And of the powerful Khans, he was the only one with a direct line to his brother-in-law Tarkhan.
"But who is going to be Marshal then?", he finally ejected.
"Oh, that doesn't matter nearly as much as the spymaster. The Marshal is mainly there to pass on my orders and bellow at recruits. A skilled commander with just the right disposition should be possible to find."
Samsam was visibly skeptical and more than a little upset how Tarkhan thought about his work. He wanted to return something, but Tarkhan already called a guard in and ordered him to get General Vasiliy to him as fast as possible without even giving note to Samsam.
"I am relying on you, Samsam", the Khagan returned to his new spymaster. "There is more to this than Muhan plotting from wherever he is right now. Get back to Tana, find out who is behind this and bring me his arse. You know that I reward skill and loyalty richly."
July 7, 918 AD
Tana
Khan Vakrim was on his way toward the Khagan's yurt. More than once his councillors had tried to get something out of him in the past days, but were sent off by a grumpy Tarkhan who wasn't at all in the mood for politics. Maybe he would be more receptive today for some reason. The chancellor wasn't all too confident of it, but he tried his best to not let it show.
A week ago Tarkhan had returned from the campaign on Bolghar - victorious once again, after four years of war and against heavy odds at times. The Ashina horde had cut the enemy off in Chuvash, and Khagan Tiradin had thrown all of his his forces against them in one last desperate attempt – and lost once again. The reinforcements from the Dulo came in too late and caused even more chaos among the already routed Bolghar forces, resulting in a defeat so desastrous that it left no choice but to finally surrender the Duchy of Mordva to Khazaria.
Still Tarkhan's reception at home had been rather cold, with most of the remaining populace consisting of women and elderly people. Everyone was busy feeding their children and tired of the Khagan's perpetual wars. The ceremony to bestow him the Counties conquered from Bolghar ended in a scandal when Tarkhan insulted the few bystanders and the Court Rabbi because he did not feel treated appropriately. Ever since, he had been disgruntled, and the rejection of the people was tangible after such a dishonorable appearance.
Vakrim greeted the guards and asked for the Khagan.
"He's right inside. But don't expect much." was the answer, and so Vakrim peeked into the tent reluctantly. Tarkhan leaned in his large chair, with a stern face and closed eyes.
The chancellor was unsure what to do. Just when he wanted to sneak out the yurt again, he heard a hoarse "What is it?" from behind.
Vakrim turned around again. "Uhm...I did not want to disturb you..."
"And yet you did", Tarkhan replied soundingy terribly tired. "Now at least tell me why. I've been planning to quarter someone all day."
The confused Vakrim replied "It's nothing important...just that the council is not sure yet what is planned with the lands from Bolghar and..."
Tarkhan made a dismissive gesture. "Have them. Take those lands. I don't mind. They're next to yours, and those bastards out there do not care about conquests anyway."
"What? I mean, are you
"You know exactly what I am talking about...the slander in the alleys, the shady figures behind my back...wresting down your equal in battle, hard-fought victories, the blood spilled on enemy lands...this all means nothing to them. All they see is their own good."
Vakrim nodded, but in truth he had little idea who Tarkhan could mean.
"Go before I change my mind. Congratulations to your new land. Consider this my proposal to the council, have your writers set up a document or whatever it takes. I just want to be left alone", the Khagan continued and waved the chancellor away.
Vakrim went, overwhelmed that he should get the actually quite valuable Mordvin lands just like that. This would put him potentially on par with the Jabdertim and Bulçir in terms of manpower, given some time to grow into the new space. Of course it was great news for his clan, but what would the other Khans say to this, especially Samsam whose Jabdertim clan feuded against the Hekel since decades? Would anyone even believe it?
Well well, little Zachariah might turn into a very interesting figure. And I think I might pity the poor fool who guides Tarkhan to an early grave, only to have another Zachariah to face. Most interesting.
As for Tarkhan - this last scene almost strikes one as a paranoid action, but however Paranoid he may be (not necessarily without cause) he was also always shrewd. This sort of setup could be a perfect way of ferretting something out.
As for Tarkhan - this last scene almost strikes one as a paranoid action, but however Paranoid he may be (not necessarily without cause) he was also always shrewd. This sort of setup could be a perfect way of ferretting something out.
It is worrying that those participating in the plot against Tarkhan are all his close relatives. I'm wondering if it will ever be dismantled.
I didn't expect that the Bolghars would be defeated but it is good news nonetheless.
I'm curious about what will happen with the cruel Tarkhan becoming paranoid. If I were anyone in the court, I'd ask for an assignment far far away.
I didn't expect that the Bolghars would be defeated but it is good news nonetheless.
I'm curious about what will happen with the cruel Tarkhan becoming paranoid. If I were anyone in the court, I'd ask for an assignment far far away.
Tarkhan increasingly reminds me of Zacharia of late, which could be both good or bad for the realm depending on how you look at it. Similar to what Slothinatar said it will be difficult to truly quell the opposition within his family, maybe finding cause to banish them and spread them apart could help, but perhaps the best way to respond is giving them a taste of their own medicine by taking out an influential rival claimnant.
I'm far from sure where fate may lead him, but Zachariah jr. will most definitely be featured in the future.
Handing out Mordva in particular is actually just defiant negligence by Tarkhan, but he knows full well what power there is in trading favors. And he's absolutely one to come back and demand the favor at his terms.
I was actually a little worried that the ending to the war would come across all too anticlimactic, but with a man like Tarkhan there was little alternative to pulling through. Had the Bolghar continued to pursue the battered Khazars, they would have won.
The courtiers in Tana should watch their step very well. More on what happens otherwise is coming up.
Even though Tarkhan's general style of ruling turned out quite different from Zachariah, we are all bound to find out how much we resemble our parents when we get older - and Tarkhan has been trying to fill the steps for most of his life. The certain continuity in their traits that comes through ever more clearly adds to the flavour.
Right now there is little opportunity to get rid of his unruly family, but the opportunities will show themselves. Until then, he can only keep watching his back and strike at the plotters outside the clan when the chance is there.
Chapter 74 – Perilous Youth
Chapter 74 – Perilous Youth
September 13, 918 AD
Tana
Khan Samsam entered the cellar below a trading contor, expanded into a dungeon. The cool air from below was pleasant in this sunny late summer, and Samsam grinned at the thought that there might be a certain recreational value to the general idea, more so where the summers got hotter and drier than here, close to the shores of the Black Sea.
The facility had been 'erected' - or more precisely, dug into the ground - by some industrious entrepeneurs from East Francia who figured that offering prison infrastructure to the Khazars for a modest price would be a nice side business, at least as long as the Bulçir and the Jabdertim kept hoarding war prisoners from Russia in numbers that would have been a serious liability to a Nomad encampment. That was not Samsam's business today, however. When he was appointed Tarkhan's spymaster, he had been reluctant at first, but he was an experienced and adaptable man and grew into his new responsibility quickly. He was here to speak to a shortly arrived inmate of noble descent.
Duke Zaur of Alania, a young man of nineteen years who had inherited the Duchy shortly after its subjugation under Khazaria, hedged fruitless plans to claim Ashina lands for quite some time. It would have posed reason to bring him to justice by itself, but seemed of little concern for the longest time. Then Samsam found another piece of evidence for Zaur's activity and figured it was an excellent opportunity to strike. Through a keen plan, Samsam and a dozen Ashina honor guards could get hold of Duke Zaur in his own fort, extract him before his own garrison even got an idea what was going on and bring him to Tana, where he had been sitting in this cellar since then.
Samsam stepped in front of the barred door that held Zaur's cell firmly closed. The yound Duke lay on his cot and stared at the ceiling when he heard the noise from the door and got up. Upon seeing his captor Samsam, his expression darkened.
"What is it you want, beadle?"
Samsam had to grin. "You have some courage, I have to admit. In your shoes I would not dare to be as snarky."
"Christ guides my steps, as all of his followers'. I do not fear anything, knowing He is by my side."
Oh boy. This is going to be even easier than expected, Samsam thought to himself. His pursuit of the men behind the demise of Vencel was stalled, but he was going to prove his worth anyhow. The Khagan saw peril at every corner, and presenting him a culprit would ensure his continued goodwill.
"And yet he lead you to this place instead of, you know, actually keeping you from harm. What's the meaning behind it? Do you have an idea?", the spymaster said condescendingly.
"Your prison bars mean nothing to me. Christ himself died for all our sins, betrayed and sold by the Jews."
"That's all you have? Quite the simple way for your Redeemer to stay out of responsibility when someone would actually need his help, isn't it?", Samsam said with a malicious grin.
"Save your slander. You know as well as I that we are not to question the fate He alone bestows on us. Your books tell of the same God as ours."
"They do. And do those same books that you invoke not also say 'Thou shalt not kill'? How is aiding a man to kill his brother, an unforgivable sin to all men alike, consistent with that? "
"It does not mean free hand to the wicked, if you wanted to suggest that", Zaur replied angrily. "The Khagan does not bat an eye where our brothers in Moldavia are slaughtered and displaced by the thousands. You have no right to question my piety for doing what is necessary to remove a tyrant."
"And replace him with his twin brother, a lifelong mercenary captain who you do not know a bit. What do you think is going to happen? A wonder turning him into a peaceful and pious Christian?", Samsam scoffed.
"That is not up to me, nor any of us. God's will alone determines the future, and you would do well to recognize it. Your efforts are meaningless, beadle. I am getting tired already."
"So I take it you are not going to renounce your support for Muhan?"
"Never. Torture me if you want to, but the Lord knows I am doing the right thing...before even worse things happen."
"Fabulous", a gleeful Khan Samsam replied. "This is exactly what I needed to hear. The offense of going after some patch of land near yours would have been minor, maybe we would have actually tortured you for a bit and then let you go back home - until your next foolishly zealous move. Confessing that you want to see the Khagan dead is an entirely different story though."
He turned away from the door. "You will soon understand the mistake you have committed." Or never, he thought. His trap for Zaur had sprung. If the young Duke renounced his backing for Muhan, a minor punishment would have to suffice. Like this, Tarkhan would have free hand – and he, Samsam, would assure him that Zaur was the mind behind his predecessors biting the dust. Gaining the Khagan's favor could only be helpful, no matter what was coming.
Only three days later, Zaur Alauni's Duchy and County titles were revoked on account of treason and the order given to root out the tribe to the last man. To make an example, the Khagan then demonstrated that even the most willful followers of Christ could be broken in very literal manner.
July 20, 919 AD
Kabar Camp, Aqtobe
"Hail, my Khan!" Bihor Kabar, only seventeen but commander to the Khanate since a few months, stepped into the Khan's yurt and saluted his great-uncle hastily. "There are new reports about Cumans on the horizon. About three and a half thousand, if our sources are correct. Our own horde has fled as per your orders...but we will not be able to withhold them for long. They are already plundering the communities in the vicinity, the toll among the peasants is significant...awaiting your orders, majesty."
Khan Khatir rose from his seat with worried face. He was in power since his far older brother Menümarót's demise over four years ago, shortly after his sacking from the council, yet plausibly due to high age. He was also the last of Kabar founding father Zebulun's direct descendants, born almost fifty years after his oldest brother Buzer, the first Kabar Khan and Bihor's grandfather.
"We do not have the numbers to repel them, with or without the horde...all we can do is wait. The Cumans will get what they deserve."
Bihor was unsure what to make of that. "So we...wait? But for what?"
A fierce expression flew over the Khan's face. "The Khagan is on his way."
"What...? Sure, his troops could beat the Cumans easily...but won't that take months?"
"No. They have been making their way here for quite some time already. The Khagan kept it as secret as possible to not give the Cumans any hint. War is coming to them."
The young commander stood agape. "War? But...has it not been little over a year since the near defeat against Bolghar?"
Khatir, himself a general to the Ashina horde since Vasiliy's promotion, shook his head. "Not exactly. It has been little over a year since the victory. The near defeat is longer ago, and a lot has changed since then. The new Marshal reduced the numbers of the horde slightly, but added to their equipment. Draining the Khaganate's coffers instead of its populace will help repairing Tarkhan's reputation - and the numbers of the horde have always been quickly refilled."
"I've heard about that...People say those armor-clad horses are the most impressive and fearsome sight that ever roamed these lands. Now I see why you would say the Cumans have it coming. Yet I still don't know why another war on Cumania?"
"That is an easy one and not really a secret: the death of Khagan Sokal Andjogli II in a duel in March suspended the truce between the two powers, and his successor Kobyak had to succumb to the claims of the new Khagan Uzur Toksoba. Uzur rules from the North now, and will have little regard for the Andjogli lands in the far south that Tarkhan aims to conquer."
Bihor had a lot to process at once and it did show. Unwillingly Khatir chuckled. "You have a lot to learn, young man. Now go, and tell the tale to the men. No point in keeping quiet if the Cumans already do the stupidest possible thing all by themselves."
The word spread quickly, to the Cumans too who first took it for scaremongering, then started to get insecure – and when they recognized it was all true about two weeks later, it was already too late to move out of Aqtöbe timely. Over a third of the Toksoba horde went down in the very first days of Khagan Tarkhan Ashina's second campaign against Cumania.
October 30, 919 AD
Ugra
Deep in the woods of the North, where the daylight almost entirely faded at this season and where no steppe rider would set his foot – or his horses' hoof - anytime soon, lay the Lodge of the Followers of Otso. Life was rough and simple up here, and it wasn't too often that the place saw visitors from afar.
Each time Sochava Arvoyid visited Ugra, she felt at home a little. Eight years ago, shortly after the horde had left for Moldavia for the first time, she realized that her position granted some unexpected freedoms. She could basically leave the camp whenever she liked and even rely on Khazar supply chains as long as there was no order from Tarkhan against it. So she figured that to join the Followers would be the closest thing to home available and soon after made the voyage to Ugra for the first time.
Although she had never received professional training of any kind, Sochava turned out an adept fighter on the day of her initiation – and a feared opponent through the years for her reckless and unpredictable ways in the ring. More than once, things hadn't gone quite as planned and the pristine face of younger days took its marks, but from each fight Sochava had walked away with her head high. Before her pregnancy, she'd been named a proper Warrior of Otso after five years as a fledgling.
The voyage to Ugra and back took several weeks each time – but that meant little when the Khagan was only there once or twice a year and paid no further attention to his concubines beyond his reproductive duties to the Khaganate. One of these visits had resulted in Sochava giving birth to a daughter two years ago, a healthy and adorable blonde girl.
To her own sorrow, Sochava wasn't allowed to bond further with Lärkka as the girl should be educated as a proper Khazar. The Khaganate was strict in that respect. On the upside, there was still little holding her back from spending time with her kinsmen at the Followers of Otso, rather than in a court where no one cared in the least about her.
It happened in the mid of a boozy evening with the newly acquainted Hertta 'the Heavenly', a young Finnish shieldmaiden who was married to a noble warrior from Mezen and her brother-in-law Nenyts, chancellor to the Chiefdom and a seasoned warrior as well as a shrewd diplomat. Sochava got up from the table and made her way to to refresh herself past the bar when she felt the hand on her bottom. A firm grasp, definitely no coincidence.
She was used to the public at the Lodge mostly consisting of men, and she cared little about the occasional greedy gaze or lewd comment. This was a whole other story though. Who dares it? thought Sochava, whirled around and looked into the half-drunk grin of Tylmache Dobrinyid, brother to the Chief of Mochkava and a member of the Followers for eight years, yet still a fledgling.
The next moment, a resounding slap hit Tylmache's face. A few people in the vicinity turned their heads from the sound. "Leave your dirty hands where they belong, you shoddy excuse for a man!"
The Meshcheran warrior shook himself in surprise, then looked at Sochava with a smile that barely hid his raw anger and stood up. His two drinking mates turned around and observed the scenery with excitement. Slightly slurring his voice, he replied, "And what might you be thinking, attacking me here? You must be crazy...what else...I always knew it."
"Don't play stupid, arsehole. And do not try this ever again, or you will come to regret it."
"Oh, I do not think you have got me right..." and Tylmache grabbed Sochava, who was caught unprepared, at the neck with surprising quickness. "You little whore are going to regret this!"
The onlookers jumped from their seats. Whatever this was about, apparently it escalated quickly. Sochava struggled to escape Tylmache's grip, but he was stronger and dragged her closer, grinning into her face again. "You're not going to hit me in front of everyone and make me look like a fool...know this."
"You're making yourself look...like the bastard you are...Tylmache", Sochava ejected in the Meshcheran's clench, but with unbroken will.
Tylmache only scoffed and yanked her head back to deliver a well placed headbutt to her face. Life came into the crowd. Sochava stumbled back and was almost immediately hit by another punch, this time directly to the face. The general excitement, the cheers and the people grouping around Tylmache, went past her. All she could remember was losing her balance and another dull impact before everything went black.
When falling, Sochava's head hit a table and she rolled underneath it. Everyone was busy cheering at Tylmache or holding him back, and it took a few minutes before someone recognized Sochava did not move.
The quickly summoned Shaman could do little but ready her soul for the Eternal Forest. Tarkhan's concubine Sochava Arvoyid, war spoil from Cumania and Warrior of the Followers of Otso in her other life, would not wake up again.
September 13, 918 AD
Tana
Khan Samsam entered the cellar below a trading contor, expanded into a dungeon. The cool air from below was pleasant in this sunny late summer, and Samsam grinned at the thought that there might be a certain recreational value to the general idea, more so where the summers got hotter and drier than here, close to the shores of the Black Sea.
The facility had been 'erected' - or more precisely, dug into the ground - by some industrious entrepeneurs from East Francia who figured that offering prison infrastructure to the Khazars for a modest price would be a nice side business, at least as long as the Bulçir and the Jabdertim kept hoarding war prisoners from Russia in numbers that would have been a serious liability to a Nomad encampment. That was not Samsam's business today, however. When he was appointed Tarkhan's spymaster, he had been reluctant at first, but he was an experienced and adaptable man and grew into his new responsibility quickly. He was here to speak to a shortly arrived inmate of noble descent.
Duke Zaur of Alania, a young man of nineteen years who had inherited the Duchy shortly after its subjugation under Khazaria, hedged fruitless plans to claim Ashina lands for quite some time. It would have posed reason to bring him to justice by itself, but seemed of little concern for the longest time. Then Samsam found another piece of evidence for Zaur's activity and figured it was an excellent opportunity to strike. Through a keen plan, Samsam and a dozen Ashina honor guards could get hold of Duke Zaur in his own fort, extract him before his own garrison even got an idea what was going on and bring him to Tana, where he had been sitting in this cellar since then.
Samsam stepped in front of the barred door that held Zaur's cell firmly closed. The yound Duke lay on his cot and stared at the ceiling when he heard the noise from the door and got up. Upon seeing his captor Samsam, his expression darkened.
"What is it you want, beadle?"
Samsam had to grin. "You have some courage, I have to admit. In your shoes I would not dare to be as snarky."
"Christ guides my steps, as all of his followers'. I do not fear anything, knowing He is by my side."
Oh boy. This is going to be even easier than expected, Samsam thought to himself. His pursuit of the men behind the demise of Vencel was stalled, but he was going to prove his worth anyhow. The Khagan saw peril at every corner, and presenting him a culprit would ensure his continued goodwill.
"And yet he lead you to this place instead of, you know, actually keeping you from harm. What's the meaning behind it? Do you have an idea?", the spymaster said condescendingly.
"Your prison bars mean nothing to me. Christ himself died for all our sins, betrayed and sold by the Jews."
"That's all you have? Quite the simple way for your Redeemer to stay out of responsibility when someone would actually need his help, isn't it?", Samsam said with a malicious grin.
"Save your slander. You know as well as I that we are not to question the fate He alone bestows on us. Your books tell of the same God as ours."
"They do. And do those same books that you invoke not also say 'Thou shalt not kill'? How is aiding a man to kill his brother, an unforgivable sin to all men alike, consistent with that? "
"It does not mean free hand to the wicked, if you wanted to suggest that", Zaur replied angrily. "The Khagan does not bat an eye where our brothers in Moldavia are slaughtered and displaced by the thousands. You have no right to question my piety for doing what is necessary to remove a tyrant."
"And replace him with his twin brother, a lifelong mercenary captain who you do not know a bit. What do you think is going to happen? A wonder turning him into a peaceful and pious Christian?", Samsam scoffed.
"That is not up to me, nor any of us. God's will alone determines the future, and you would do well to recognize it. Your efforts are meaningless, beadle. I am getting tired already."
"So I take it you are not going to renounce your support for Muhan?"
"Never. Torture me if you want to, but the Lord knows I am doing the right thing...before even worse things happen."
"Fabulous", a gleeful Khan Samsam replied. "This is exactly what I needed to hear. The offense of going after some patch of land near yours would have been minor, maybe we would have actually tortured you for a bit and then let you go back home - until your next foolishly zealous move. Confessing that you want to see the Khagan dead is an entirely different story though."
He turned away from the door. "You will soon understand the mistake you have committed." Or never, he thought. His trap for Zaur had sprung. If the young Duke renounced his backing for Muhan, a minor punishment would have to suffice. Like this, Tarkhan would have free hand – and he, Samsam, would assure him that Zaur was the mind behind his predecessors biting the dust. Gaining the Khagan's favor could only be helpful, no matter what was coming.
Only three days later, Zaur Alauni's Duchy and County titles were revoked on account of treason and the order given to root out the tribe to the last man. To make an example, the Khagan then demonstrated that even the most willful followers of Christ could be broken in very literal manner.
July 20, 919 AD
Kabar Camp, Aqtobe
"Hail, my Khan!" Bihor Kabar, only seventeen but commander to the Khanate since a few months, stepped into the Khan's yurt and saluted his great-uncle hastily. "There are new reports about Cumans on the horizon. About three and a half thousand, if our sources are correct. Our own horde has fled as per your orders...but we will not be able to withhold them for long. They are already plundering the communities in the vicinity, the toll among the peasants is significant...awaiting your orders, majesty."
Khan Khatir rose from his seat with worried face. He was in power since his far older brother Menümarót's demise over four years ago, shortly after his sacking from the council, yet plausibly due to high age. He was also the last of Kabar founding father Zebulun's direct descendants, born almost fifty years after his oldest brother Buzer, the first Kabar Khan and Bihor's grandfather.
"We do not have the numbers to repel them, with or without the horde...all we can do is wait. The Cumans will get what they deserve."
Bihor was unsure what to make of that. "So we...wait? But for what?"
A fierce expression flew over the Khan's face. "The Khagan is on his way."
"What...? Sure, his troops could beat the Cumans easily...but won't that take months?"
"No. They have been making their way here for quite some time already. The Khagan kept it as secret as possible to not give the Cumans any hint. War is coming to them."
The young commander stood agape. "War? But...has it not been little over a year since the near defeat against Bolghar?"
Khatir, himself a general to the Ashina horde since Vasiliy's promotion, shook his head. "Not exactly. It has been little over a year since the victory. The near defeat is longer ago, and a lot has changed since then. The new Marshal reduced the numbers of the horde slightly, but added to their equipment. Draining the Khaganate's coffers instead of its populace will help repairing Tarkhan's reputation - and the numbers of the horde have always been quickly refilled."
"I've heard about that...People say those armor-clad horses are the most impressive and fearsome sight that ever roamed these lands. Now I see why you would say the Cumans have it coming. Yet I still don't know why another war on Cumania?"
"That is an easy one and not really a secret: the death of Khagan Sokal Andjogli II in a duel in March suspended the truce between the two powers, and his successor Kobyak had to succumb to the claims of the new Khagan Uzur Toksoba. Uzur rules from the North now, and will have little regard for the Andjogli lands in the far south that Tarkhan aims to conquer."
Bihor had a lot to process at once and it did show. Unwillingly Khatir chuckled. "You have a lot to learn, young man. Now go, and tell the tale to the men. No point in keeping quiet if the Cumans already do the stupidest possible thing all by themselves."
The word spread quickly, to the Cumans too who first took it for scaremongering, then started to get insecure – and when they recognized it was all true about two weeks later, it was already too late to move out of Aqtöbe timely. Over a third of the Toksoba horde went down in the very first days of Khagan Tarkhan Ashina's second campaign against Cumania.
October 30, 919 AD
Ugra
Deep in the woods of the North, where the daylight almost entirely faded at this season and where no steppe rider would set his foot – or his horses' hoof - anytime soon, lay the Lodge of the Followers of Otso. Life was rough and simple up here, and it wasn't too often that the place saw visitors from afar.
Each time Sochava Arvoyid visited Ugra, she felt at home a little. Eight years ago, shortly after the horde had left for Moldavia for the first time, she realized that her position granted some unexpected freedoms. She could basically leave the camp whenever she liked and even rely on Khazar supply chains as long as there was no order from Tarkhan against it. So she figured that to join the Followers would be the closest thing to home available and soon after made the voyage to Ugra for the first time.
Although she had never received professional training of any kind, Sochava turned out an adept fighter on the day of her initiation – and a feared opponent through the years for her reckless and unpredictable ways in the ring. More than once, things hadn't gone quite as planned and the pristine face of younger days took its marks, but from each fight Sochava had walked away with her head high. Before her pregnancy, she'd been named a proper Warrior of Otso after five years as a fledgling.
The voyage to Ugra and back took several weeks each time – but that meant little when the Khagan was only there once or twice a year and paid no further attention to his concubines beyond his reproductive duties to the Khaganate. One of these visits had resulted in Sochava giving birth to a daughter two years ago, a healthy and adorable blonde girl.
To her own sorrow, Sochava wasn't allowed to bond further with Lärkka as the girl should be educated as a proper Khazar. The Khaganate was strict in that respect. On the upside, there was still little holding her back from spending time with her kinsmen at the Followers of Otso, rather than in a court where no one cared in the least about her.
It happened in the mid of a boozy evening with the newly acquainted Hertta 'the Heavenly', a young Finnish shieldmaiden who was married to a noble warrior from Mezen and her brother-in-law Nenyts, chancellor to the Chiefdom and a seasoned warrior as well as a shrewd diplomat. Sochava got up from the table and made her way to to refresh herself past the bar when she felt the hand on her bottom. A firm grasp, definitely no coincidence.
She was used to the public at the Lodge mostly consisting of men, and she cared little about the occasional greedy gaze or lewd comment. This was a whole other story though. Who dares it? thought Sochava, whirled around and looked into the half-drunk grin of Tylmache Dobrinyid, brother to the Chief of Mochkava and a member of the Followers for eight years, yet still a fledgling.
The next moment, a resounding slap hit Tylmache's face. A few people in the vicinity turned their heads from the sound. "Leave your dirty hands where they belong, you shoddy excuse for a man!"
The Meshcheran warrior shook himself in surprise, then looked at Sochava with a smile that barely hid his raw anger and stood up. His two drinking mates turned around and observed the scenery with excitement. Slightly slurring his voice, he replied, "And what might you be thinking, attacking me here? You must be crazy...what else...I always knew it."
"Don't play stupid, arsehole. And do not try this ever again, or you will come to regret it."
"Oh, I do not think you have got me right..." and Tylmache grabbed Sochava, who was caught unprepared, at the neck with surprising quickness. "You little whore are going to regret this!"
The onlookers jumped from their seats. Whatever this was about, apparently it escalated quickly. Sochava struggled to escape Tylmache's grip, but he was stronger and dragged her closer, grinning into her face again. "You're not going to hit me in front of everyone and make me look like a fool...know this."
"You're making yourself look...like the bastard you are...Tylmache", Sochava ejected in the Meshcheran's clench, but with unbroken will.
Tylmache only scoffed and yanked her head back to deliver a well placed headbutt to her face. Life came into the crowd. Sochava stumbled back and was almost immediately hit by another punch, this time directly to the face. The general excitement, the cheers and the people grouping around Tylmache, went past her. All she could remember was losing her balance and another dull impact before everything went black.
When falling, Sochava's head hit a table and she rolled underneath it. Everyone was busy cheering at Tylmache or holding him back, and it took a few minutes before someone recognized Sochava did not move.
The quickly summoned Shaman could do little but ready her soul for the Eternal Forest. Tarkhan's concubine Sochava Arvoyid, war spoil from Cumania and Warrior of the Followers of Otso in her other life, would not wake up again.
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Looks like the Khagan isn't going to let a previous defeat get his way. I wonder if the Cumans realize it. or
Is Zaur a fool or a zealot or both?
Is Zaur a fool or a zealot or both?
Interesting to see that the first of the plotters has been dealt with. That's a clear sign to all Tarkhan's rivals.
It looks like Tarkhan has got his bellicose spark back. Looking forward to seeing what the war brings.
Damn, terrible way to go for Sochava. I'm certainly hoping she will be avenged.
It looks like Tarkhan has got his bellicose spark back. Looking forward to seeing what the war brings.
Damn, terrible way to go for Sochava. I'm certainly hoping she will be avenged.
I can see Zacharia handling the death of his concubine in one of two ways, either he goes for vengange for the insult to his clan, or he is simply indifferent torwards it due to her leaving the camp for foreign lands.
The problem with torture is that the victims continue to live afterwards. With age comes insight, and Tarkhan would probably consider it amusing but inefficient by now.
The Cumans had their (remote) chance to catch upon Tarkhan's plan and at least prolong the war, maybe wear the Khazars down, but with this start they will have little chance to achieve anything. Going raiding with your full force in their most dangerous adversary's lands was a great risk that backfired terribly. To be fair, they couldn't possibly know the horde was on its way, and with it in another corner of the empire there would have been little to be done for Tarkhan.
Zaur was young, rose to power early and was entirely sure of himself and his God. The combination does you no good against an unscrupulous and influential man who's aiming for the benevolence of an iron-fisted warlord. Also, while his stats don't really suggest him being dumb, the decision to not refrain from the murder plot was exceptionally stupid.
Probably the only reason why he's not yet having to flee as fast as he can is that he is already so far away. The other Followers won't be appreciating this kind of stuff though. Molesting, then accidentally slaying a fellow Sister? Not exactly the ways of an honorable warrior.
Oh, there's been other plotters falling over the years, but Tarkhan devotes little attention to his court's opinions and so new people willing to support shady plans keep popping up (and being disposed of). Until now everything went well with that, but obviously the deterrence effect was limited that way. Executions will become more common anyway.
The war against the Cumans is almost over again, before it started properly. That was also an actual coincidence - I had no idea what they were about when the horde started moving east again. [Edit: But as it always is, another slightly more impactful war is just around the corner.]
The latter definitely fits more. While Tarkhan is certainly indignated about some guy from the forests smashing his war trophy, Sochava never was more than that to him. Tylmache could still expect terrible things, just because of Tarkhan's temper, if he wasn't protected by a very large forest between him and Khazaria.
We've seen the yearly awards recently, and this work has made it into three different categories' top ranks. I am still pretty much speechless about this and I want to stress again how much all the support, of whatever form it may be, means. Thank you all SO much for reading, commenting, voting and everything else.
Now to the less enjoyable point: I will probably have to ditch the weekly pace soon. It's been close to a year since I started writing on this and I would have expected this moment to come much earlier, but I have simply run out of material. I've taken up a new job in the beginning of the year that eats up a lot of time, which definitely poses the rather profane main reason for this. At the same time Tarkhan gets harder to write about, partly because his character is much more serious in nature than Zachariah ever was, partly because the game refuses to deliver the hard fall I've been trying to create for him and I had to reconsider the whole "superplot", if there is one, to his reign.
I'll keep on it of course, and there will be new chapters on a regular basis, just probably not in the steady rhythm I have got used to until now (and of which I'm not sure someone noticed, now I'm pointing it out
). Jerusalem will keep calling for quite some time, and it will most surely not be the last AAR for me.
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Sorry to hear about the change in pace but real life definitely takes precedence.
Good luck with the new job!
I’ll be lookin forward to your updates whenever they might come out!
Good luck with the new job!
I’ll be lookin forward to your updates whenever they might come out!
Chapter 75 – Multi-ethnic Empire
Chapter 75 – Multi-ethnic Empire
December 21, 920 AD
Tana
The Ashina gathering hall was filled to the brink. Nobles had flocked to the capital from all parts of the country, with many new faces among the crowd after an eventful year that saw many successes.
The reason for today's gathering was one of them, in a way at least. In the wake of Sochava's unexpected death, Tarkhan had seen to devote more attention to his remaining concubines, and soon both announced their pregnancies. One month ago his Levantine 'acquisition' Noushin, in his service for almost all Tarkhan's reign, had given birth to his second son Kisa.
Only yesterday, the birth of yet another twin pair to the dynasty had been announced with all due pomp. To most people it was an odd manifestation of the divine streak of the Ashina – Tarkhan himself obviously had a twin brother, but now he and both his sisters had sired or conceived twins as well.
Apart from the family growing further, the Khaganate itself grew too at the cost of the unlucky Cumans under Khagan Uzur Toksoba. Their horde never quite recovered from the blow it took when unsuspectingly going after the sparse countryside of Aqtöbe. Khagan Uzur did not show much effort afterwards to save what were mostly the lands of his most dangerous adversary, the Andjogli Khan Kobyak, and surrendered the southern exclave on the Aral Sea to Khazaria in August. The Khazars did not even have to enter the Cuman heartlands this time.
The newly acquired lands were split up between the Kabar clan and the newly established Balanjar, distant relatives of the Ashina with ties to the region whose prime warrior Ilik was declared Khan soon after. Ilik and his kin were among the first-time guests to Tana this evening.
The larger bulk of the newcomers though were Russian High Chiefs with their entourages on their first official visit – the rulers from the former Kievan Rus, which had been renamed Khanate of Ruthenia (the local vernacular quickly adopted 'Khazar Rus' though) after Ingvar of Caltagirone's overdue surrender to Samsam Jabdertim in late summer. The return of the Jabdertim horde to the camp in Hradyzk turned into an unprecendented triumph. Where his father and brother had failed so many times, Khan Samsam finally succeeded and broke the Kievan Curse, if there ever was one.
Khan Samsam did not hold any lands for himself in Ruthenia, but he was now the liege of the four High Chiefdoms that constituted the Rus before: Kiev, Polotsk, Novosil and the High Chiefdom of Novgorod which through the turmoil that succession sometimes caused had ended up part of the Rus instead of the identically called Kingdom to the North. The taxes and levies from the Russian lords were already proving useful for his clan, but more importantly the Russian lands posed a vast buffer to the west and a comfortable retreat space against other steppe hordes. Their strategic value to Jabdertim and the Khaganate would be inestimable.
With this grand success at the back, Samsam could even convince the Khagan that there was no evidence for immediate danger to his family anymore. It helped that the Khagan recognized the necessity of his wife's contribution with the new children on their way. Organizing a royal household was nothing to be left to just anyone. Therefore Yartilek and Zachariah, who had developed formidably in the seclusion of their hideout deep in the woods, returned to Tana and completed the royal family again shortly before the births of Kisa, Ipek and Yençepi.
The feast had subsided into a large open carousal, with servants distributing wine and airag from large barrels. Khan Samsam of Jabdertim and his returned sister Yartilek watched the ado from the sideline.
"And so the big peace has broken out", Yartilek remarked with a smile. "I cannot remember the last time when both you and Tarkhan were not at war somewhere. Not to talk of all the Khanates at once staying quiet."
"How odd", Samsam replied equally amused. "Never mind that you're talking about the hordes that keep taking over more and more of the world. But at least I can assure you I have had my share of conquest now. It will be enough work to keep control over our new western territories when the lands have fully recovered", he added contently.
"The Russians are a stubborn bunch indeed. Hard to believe they will just give in...but they are no longer united. Our Clan will prevail", Yartilek replied confidently.
"I have no doubt of that. More so as the Ezgil suddenly struggle for their lands instead of keeping on pressuring the Northern tribes. Takes out one possible threat, and for quite some time probably."
The year prior, shortly before Kiev surendered for good, Khagan Tiradin of Bolghar succumbed to a wound he sustained in one of the smaller follow-up wars to the clash with Khazaria, which were a negligible threat until then. His brother Goleda was an accomplished man in the Northern Steppes, a veteran to many battles, and considered well prepared for the task by most people in the Ezgil lands.
Unfortunately for him, his supposed vassals High Chief Nydog of Perm and Khan Sevar Dulo, son of the deceased Khagan Batir who was forced to forfeit the crown of Bolghar to Tiradin years earlier, colluded against him and both declared their independence on the ground of Nomadic laws.
After the lost war for an important bit of land and the necessary reconstructions after Tiradin's ascension, the Ezgil were unable to field enough troops and bring the lost territory back under control. The dissolution of their Khaganate would trouble the region for quite some time, this much was assured.
"Come time, the Hekel and Bulçir will try to profit from his hardship", Samsam added. "There's only one reason why they have not yet marched in there."
Yartilek nodded. "Tarkhan talks of little else but the next campaign. And all Zachariah ever wants to know is if there are wolves in Trebizond."
It was an open secret that Tarkhan planned to attack Byzantium once again, with the horde being on the move towards and through Georgia for weeks and the ever more frequent reports about renegades roaming through the border regions freely. It was expected that the Khanates would be called into the war soon after its declaration and no one wanted to miss the opportunity for riches and glory. The southern Black Sea coast was prosperous, and there would be enough booty for everyone.
"To be honest, he's mainly jealous of all the praise you got for beating the Rus", Yartilek snickered. "He goes on and on about how no one cares about swaths of steppe or backwater tribes and it is time to make true history."
Samsam had to laugh. "I'd rather not say that to his face." More serious, he added, "It's also not as if the chances stood bad to polish his image right now. The hordes have recovered by and large, and Basileus Theocharistos is the third man on the throne in a few years. And none of them has been able to stop the decay of the Empire.
Sure, he still fields a large army, but it is worn down by the perpetual rebellions in all parts of the realm. No match for a united Khazar horde."
"I'll take your word for it."
In that moment, roaring laughter sounded from the table a few metres further. Samsam and Yartilek turned around. Khan Yilig of Bulçir was entertaining his entourage, obviously having enjoyed a lot of wine already. The old man was said to be a little too fond of the drink lately, and he sure had a few stories to tell from his almost thirty years at the top of the Khanate, particularly from his service under Zachariah.
What he was going on about after the exhilaration had subsided caught Samsam's ear, though. From the unreliability of wagons, a common trope of Khazarian knee-slappers, he turned to suspiciously familiar theories about some of the more notable 'wagon failures' of the past...and then towards predictions about whose wagon could possibly 'fail' soon.
Samsam walked over with a feigned laugh and stepped beside Yilig. With perfectly gallant expression, he murmured "Are you out of your mind? What on Earth are you thinking to blabber around here?"
The drunk Yilig did not catch on. "Samsam, my old chap! What makes you think I...."
"Ssssshhhh", Samsam interjected. Everyone at the table was looking at them. Samsam sternly looked back, and the Bulçir courtiers turned away. With his face turning back to smiling, he quietly addressed Yilig again. "You fool might not recognize it, but you are just disclosing the Khagan's business to everyone and their sister. Stop talking at once. Find another stupid topic to amuse your lackeys. If I were you, I wouldn't wait for the Khagan himself to order you to."
Khan Yilig only stared at him in visible incomprehension. "Have I...it is...."
Samsam did not want to draw even further attention and left him like this, but the damage had been done. Not only Yilig's own people were among his listeners, and soon the rumour spread that the Khagan himself was behind the series of accidents happening to the remaining Moldavian leaders.
December 21, 920 AD
Tana
The Ashina gathering hall was filled to the brink. Nobles had flocked to the capital from all parts of the country, with many new faces among the crowd after an eventful year that saw many successes.
The reason for today's gathering was one of them, in a way at least. In the wake of Sochava's unexpected death, Tarkhan had seen to devote more attention to his remaining concubines, and soon both announced their pregnancies. One month ago his Levantine 'acquisition' Noushin, in his service for almost all Tarkhan's reign, had given birth to his second son Kisa.
Only yesterday, the birth of yet another twin pair to the dynasty had been announced with all due pomp. To most people it was an odd manifestation of the divine streak of the Ashina – Tarkhan himself obviously had a twin brother, but now he and both his sisters had sired or conceived twins as well.
Apart from the family growing further, the Khaganate itself grew too at the cost of the unlucky Cumans under Khagan Uzur Toksoba. Their horde never quite recovered from the blow it took when unsuspectingly going after the sparse countryside of Aqtöbe. Khagan Uzur did not show much effort afterwards to save what were mostly the lands of his most dangerous adversary, the Andjogli Khan Kobyak, and surrendered the southern exclave on the Aral Sea to Khazaria in August. The Khazars did not even have to enter the Cuman heartlands this time.
The newly acquired lands were split up between the Kabar clan and the newly established Balanjar, distant relatives of the Ashina with ties to the region whose prime warrior Ilik was declared Khan soon after. Ilik and his kin were among the first-time guests to Tana this evening.
The larger bulk of the newcomers though were Russian High Chiefs with their entourages on their first official visit – the rulers from the former Kievan Rus, which had been renamed Khanate of Ruthenia (the local vernacular quickly adopted 'Khazar Rus' though) after Ingvar of Caltagirone's overdue surrender to Samsam Jabdertim in late summer. The return of the Jabdertim horde to the camp in Hradyzk turned into an unprecendented triumph. Where his father and brother had failed so many times, Khan Samsam finally succeeded and broke the Kievan Curse, if there ever was one.
Khan Samsam did not hold any lands for himself in Ruthenia, but he was now the liege of the four High Chiefdoms that constituted the Rus before: Kiev, Polotsk, Novosil and the High Chiefdom of Novgorod which through the turmoil that succession sometimes caused had ended up part of the Rus instead of the identically called Kingdom to the North. The taxes and levies from the Russian lords were already proving useful for his clan, but more importantly the Russian lands posed a vast buffer to the west and a comfortable retreat space against other steppe hordes. Their strategic value to Jabdertim and the Khaganate would be inestimable.
With this grand success at the back, Samsam could even convince the Khagan that there was no evidence for immediate danger to his family anymore. It helped that the Khagan recognized the necessity of his wife's contribution with the new children on their way. Organizing a royal household was nothing to be left to just anyone. Therefore Yartilek and Zachariah, who had developed formidably in the seclusion of their hideout deep in the woods, returned to Tana and completed the royal family again shortly before the births of Kisa, Ipek and Yençepi.
The feast had subsided into a large open carousal, with servants distributing wine and airag from large barrels. Khan Samsam of Jabdertim and his returned sister Yartilek watched the ado from the sideline.
"And so the big peace has broken out", Yartilek remarked with a smile. "I cannot remember the last time when both you and Tarkhan were not at war somewhere. Not to talk of all the Khanates at once staying quiet."
"How odd", Samsam replied equally amused. "Never mind that you're talking about the hordes that keep taking over more and more of the world. But at least I can assure you I have had my share of conquest now. It will be enough work to keep control over our new western territories when the lands have fully recovered", he added contently.
"The Russians are a stubborn bunch indeed. Hard to believe they will just give in...but they are no longer united. Our Clan will prevail", Yartilek replied confidently.
"I have no doubt of that. More so as the Ezgil suddenly struggle for their lands instead of keeping on pressuring the Northern tribes. Takes out one possible threat, and for quite some time probably."
The year prior, shortly before Kiev surendered for good, Khagan Tiradin of Bolghar succumbed to a wound he sustained in one of the smaller follow-up wars to the clash with Khazaria, which were a negligible threat until then. His brother Goleda was an accomplished man in the Northern Steppes, a veteran to many battles, and considered well prepared for the task by most people in the Ezgil lands.
Unfortunately for him, his supposed vassals High Chief Nydog of Perm and Khan Sevar Dulo, son of the deceased Khagan Batir who was forced to forfeit the crown of Bolghar to Tiradin years earlier, colluded against him and both declared their independence on the ground of Nomadic laws.
After the lost war for an important bit of land and the necessary reconstructions after Tiradin's ascension, the Ezgil were unable to field enough troops and bring the lost territory back under control. The dissolution of their Khaganate would trouble the region for quite some time, this much was assured.
"Come time, the Hekel and Bulçir will try to profit from his hardship", Samsam added. "There's only one reason why they have not yet marched in there."
Yartilek nodded. "Tarkhan talks of little else but the next campaign. And all Zachariah ever wants to know is if there are wolves in Trebizond."
It was an open secret that Tarkhan planned to attack Byzantium once again, with the horde being on the move towards and through Georgia for weeks and the ever more frequent reports about renegades roaming through the border regions freely. It was expected that the Khanates would be called into the war soon after its declaration and no one wanted to miss the opportunity for riches and glory. The southern Black Sea coast was prosperous, and there would be enough booty for everyone.
"To be honest, he's mainly jealous of all the praise you got for beating the Rus", Yartilek snickered. "He goes on and on about how no one cares about swaths of steppe or backwater tribes and it is time to make true history."
Samsam had to laugh. "I'd rather not say that to his face." More serious, he added, "It's also not as if the chances stood bad to polish his image right now. The hordes have recovered by and large, and Basileus Theocharistos is the third man on the throne in a few years. And none of them has been able to stop the decay of the Empire.
Sure, he still fields a large army, but it is worn down by the perpetual rebellions in all parts of the realm. No match for a united Khazar horde."
"I'll take your word for it."
In that moment, roaring laughter sounded from the table a few metres further. Samsam and Yartilek turned around. Khan Yilig of Bulçir was entertaining his entourage, obviously having enjoyed a lot of wine already. The old man was said to be a little too fond of the drink lately, and he sure had a few stories to tell from his almost thirty years at the top of the Khanate, particularly from his service under Zachariah.
What he was going on about after the exhilaration had subsided caught Samsam's ear, though. From the unreliability of wagons, a common trope of Khazarian knee-slappers, he turned to suspiciously familiar theories about some of the more notable 'wagon failures' of the past...and then towards predictions about whose wagon could possibly 'fail' soon.
Samsam walked over with a feigned laugh and stepped beside Yilig. With perfectly gallant expression, he murmured "Are you out of your mind? What on Earth are you thinking to blabber around here?"
The drunk Yilig did not catch on. "Samsam, my old chap! What makes you think I...."
"Ssssshhhh", Samsam interjected. Everyone at the table was looking at them. Samsam sternly looked back, and the Bulçir courtiers turned away. With his face turning back to smiling, he quietly addressed Yilig again. "You fool might not recognize it, but you are just disclosing the Khagan's business to everyone and their sister. Stop talking at once. Find another stupid topic to amuse your lackeys. If I were you, I wouldn't wait for the Khagan himself to order you to."
Khan Yilig only stared at him in visible incomprehension. "Have I...it is...."
Samsam did not want to draw even further attention and left him like this, but the damage had been done. Not only Yilig's own people were among his listeners, and soon the rumour spread that the Khagan himself was behind the series of accidents happening to the remaining Moldavian leaders.
I wonder if a good hoof to the face will break the Byzantines wide open.
In any case, I don't think that the revelation of this plot will hurt Tarkhan too much. That's what being nicknamed "the Despoiler" gets you.
In any case, I don't think that the revelation of this plot will hurt Tarkhan too much. That's what being nicknamed "the Despoiler" gets you.
The Khagan has had a good run lately. He defeated his enemies gaining new lands and enjoying the birth of some children. It does look like a good time to turn his attention on the Byzantium.
Why is there always that one person who ruins a good plot? I wonder if Yilig will keep his head or not.
Why is there always that one person who ruins a good plot? I wonder if Yilig will keep his head or not.