Khanate Court of the Timurid Empire

[Voshkod]

"Kill him," Khada hissed to his brother the Khan. "Kill the old man, for he has failed you. He has disgraced the memory of those that came before him, Genghis and Timur and Kubla."

Abu Sa'id Yesugai felt his younger brother's new strength in the hand that held his own tightly, saw the new-found anger the desert had given the boy. But the Khan, too, was the scion of Ghengis. "Don't be a fool, Khada. The Marshal did his best, he served me, my father, and my grandfather well. We'll find a nice estate for him away from the city to wile away his time 'til death." The Khan tried to step back, but Khada grasped his hand tightly.

The Khan's guards all pulled their weapons and stepped forward. Khada's men did the same. Bared steel glinted in the firelight while, oblivious, the Hindus continued to cut up the dead men.

"I demand his blood for the sacrifice I saw, my Khan," shouted Khada in Abu Sa'id's face. "For the men and horses that lie in the desert, that will haunt us if not granted this revenge. I demand it!"

"And I refuse it," screamed Abu Sa'id back. "I am the Khan! One more word and I'll have you all put to death!"

The Marshal stood, looking off into some middle distance, awaiting his fate. The men of both sides drew closer. The only sound in the room was the heavy breathing of the Khan and the sound of the knife scraping bone, a muttered Hindi curse.

With the swiftness of the desert wind Orqina was next to the two of them, one fair hand slapping Khada, the other the Khan. "Stop it," she hissed. "We are family. We do not fight each other." Before they could recover from their shock, she pulled the cutting knife from the Khan and plunged it into the Marshal's stomach. The old man's eyes went wide, but the only sound that emerged was a puff of air. He toppled forward into Orqina, driving the knife deeper, and they both tumbled to the floor, she to her rump, he in her lap.

She leaned forward to Akhutai Shirun and whispered. "I am sorry, my father's friend. You were always so good to me." With one weakening hand he motioned her closer. She placed her face next to his and listened for a moment to his dying words, too quiet for the others to hear. New tears poured from her eyes and she pulled him into a close hug. Then the light went out of the Marshal's eyes, and Orqina Yesugai sat on the floor of the cutting room, holding the corpse, in a widening pool of blood.

Both Khada and Abu Sa'id rushed to her side, babbling. "My sister, are you . . . ." She slapped them both again, harder, and stood, her face frozen in an angry mask. Her voice cut across the cutting room like a knife on bone.

"You are both fools. I've kept the peace here. The old man's dead, like you wanted so much, Khada. And Khada didn't slay him, my Khan, so you cannot punish him and bring down the wrath of the returning army." She looked at them both in struggling mixture of wrath and pity. "One man's death can prevent many more." She turned and glided out, leaving behind a trail of perfect bloody footprints.

 

[Voshkod]

Orqina left the cutting room slowly, head held high, until she was out of sight of the others. Then she broke down and ran, feeling the slick blood on her feet, crying and running back toward the last place she had felt at home - the Gnomon Garden.

The moon was rising when she reached the garden, and the sundials all cast spindly weak shadows in her direction, like a forest of accusing fingers. She threw herself to the ground in front of one of the pools and sank her hands deep into the water. The blood washed off in huge billowing clouds, and the golden carp began to nibble at her fingertips. She lay there as the moon passed overhead, and the gnomon shadows shrank around her, feeling the questing lips of the fish on her bloodied hands, and hoping that they might eat the stains away from her palms.

* * *

Back in the Cutting Room, the Khan and the others watched the lady leave. Abu Sa'id broke the silence first. He motioned to his guards: "Send two men to follow her - not too close, she needs to run. Make sure she doesn't hurt herself."

He then turned to Prince Umar and Mirza Mohammad-Reza. "Forgive me. You have both had the misfortune of stumbling into a family squabble." He gave his younger brother a cold look. "One that is now settled, yes, Khada?" Khada nodded without speaking. "We were speaking of your request, Prince Umar."

One of the cutters was tugging gently on the Khan's robe. Abu Sa'id turned to the man, his face a scowl. Without speaking, the cutter gave a sidelong glance at the corpse of the Marshal, and motioned toward the cutting table. The Khan belted him with the back of his hand. "No! Damn fiend! Get out. That man gets a proper burial, someone send for an Imam!" The Khan rose. "Khada, Prince Umar, Mirza Mohammad-Reza, we will continue this discussion outside." He left the cold, blood-soaked Cutting Room for the fresh air outside.

 

[unmerged(4271)]

PRINCE UMAR FOLLOWS THE KHAN​

Prince Umar of Fez remained a moment, moved by what he had seen. The young Emir had been taken by the opulence of the palace and the mystique of the Timurids reputation. To see them performing the surgeries reserved for only the the most respected of scholars in Tangiers amplified this mystique.

But then to witness this woman, Orqina Yesugai, so savagely slay the failed Marshall, and to so plainly explain her rationale before the stunned men, he felt as if he had been slapped himself

"Such a contrast," he thought, "What an amazing people these descendants of the Temüjin. Will they be our saviours, or our destruction?"

He held that thought for a moment as the blood ran through the narrow grooves in the floor toward the drain, watching the thick liquid slowly pool around the body.

His host had moved outside, and Prince Umar, Emir of Fez and one of the heirs of Sultan Abu-Mohammed Abdul-Haqq II thought it prudent not to keep him waiting.

"Samarkand...." he thought, still taking in all that he had seen, "and the lands to the East..."

* * * *​

Elsewhere, Prince Abdul-Halim was making the same trek across the plains he had made months earlier, to first solicit the support of the Khan. He was riding to bring his brother news of recent events, and the hard choices they would be forced to make.

 

[Voshkod]

As Prince Umar caught up with the Khan and his brother, he heard the tail end of their conversation. The Khan was coldly berating the youth. ". . . and I trust your childish bloodlust is now satisified? That man used to bounce you on his knee when you were . . . ." He realized the Fezian prince had joined them.

"Ah, Prince Umar, walk with us." He started off at a fast pace. "You are looking for something to do at this, the end of the world, and my brother is looking for a reason to leave again. I think I can accomodate you both." They reached the great Madrassa. The Khan led them inside, to a room, the floor of which was inlaid with precious and semi-precious stones. It took the mind a moment to realize the opulence was being put to a common purpose - it was a map.

The Khan pointed to a diamond set in the floor. "There is Samarkand." He walked a few paces over, across a lapis lazuli river and over some garnet deserts, to a large sapphire. "And here is Delhi. I have been considering sending an expedition to Delhi." He turned to Khada. "An expedition of conquest. Someone will need to lead the van, and this youthful leader will need a wiser advisor." Before he could finish the thought, a messenger tore into the room, gasping for breath. He collapsed to his knees before the Khan retching, and handed him a letter.

The Khan looked to a nearby student. "Get this man some water." He then took a seat, examined the seal with a smile, and broke it. He sat reading for some minutes, his expression first amused, then annoyed, then angry. Finally he put the note down with a bitter laugh.

"Plans change like air currents. Khada, do you remember that Chinese trickster that father kept around, Odchigin Sacha? The rumors are true. He managed to become Caliph. And be named Almohad Emperor, for Akbe Mohammad is dead on the plains of Malaga.

"The Caliph calls us to war. Lays out his justification for a jihad against the Catholic Lord Pope and the Castillans - and the Portugese. Plans change." He got up, crossed more deserts, a low range of amber, toward a vast sea of lapis, to a garnet set next to a river, near the map's edge.

"This is Cairo, the lands beyond not familiar to us. We will answer the Caliph's call. Khada, call all the warlords. Raise all the troops. Open our treasury to the horsemen. We ride for Algeria and Fez with all we can muster. You will lead the van, I will lead the army, and Prince Umar will ride with us to tell us of the ways of the West. We will bring the banners of Ghengis to the shores of al Andalus."

 

[Voshkod]

Abu Sa'id Yesugai stood before his throne in the full (rather ridiculous, to his mind) regalia of the Khan of the Timurids. Sometimes, you put on the show. His warlords and generals lay prostrate before him, all shouting advice and warnings. Their cautious cries reached him in fragments.

". . . it is too far away, the horses cannot make the journey . . ."

". . . it's an Abbasid trick to lure us away . . ."

". . . who cares what the Caliph wants, how many divisions does he have . . ."

". . . don't throw away the army in the desert . . ."

The Khan glanced over at Khada and Prince Umar, who were granted the grace to remain standing around him. He shot them both a slight smile, then turned on his warlords. He stepped down among them and started kicking them.

"You cowards! You dogs, unworthy of being called Mongols! What would Ghengis say, what would Timur say? They would drag you into the dust and cut your throats." His voice lowered to low menace.

"You will assemble the armies, every man able to ride and fight. The Persians have been told we are coming. Send scouts along our line of march in Iraq, have them warn the locals were are coming through, and if they resist they die.

"Yes, it is a long march. It is a legendary march. When we suceed, we will be hailed in stories forever! The old men will talk of Ghengis, and Kublai, and Timur, and Abu Sa'id and his magnificent army and warlords. If you spurn this chance at immortality, then you are not a man. Now go!"

The warlords rose and backed out of the room.

 

[Voshkod]

As a river is composed of many streams - some of which rise from springs in the rocks, others from the melting mountain snow, still others rising from lowland fens - so is the Horde. From the mountains of Kabul, from the marshes around Basra, from the great plains around Samarkand and the deserts of Khiva, ripped from their farms and homesteads, riding the horses they held in more esteem then their wives, they came at the call of the Khan. The Mongol horsemen were gathering, rivulets flowing into streams, and the streams flowing toward the moving wave of the inexorable river that was the Horde.

At the front of the river rode Khada Yesugai and Prince Umar of Fez, the scouts moving about them like clouds of gnats. Behind, in the main body, rode Abu Sa'id Yesugai, Khan of the Timurids, and with him Lady Chabi, destined for Cairo, and Lady Orqina, riding as her escort. And behind that the camp followers, the farriers and leatherworks, the armorers and bowyers, the whores and the cutpurses.

The tide of Mongol horse moved on across the Timurids lands, growing vaster as new streams fed horseflesh and steel into its ranks, across the border into Persia.

 

[unmerged(31994)]

Some Where in southern Iraq, City of Basrah

A large army was easy to locate in a sense, the problem was, how can he reach the khan?But that dosent matter, much of the populace would gladely help him, as many still kinned the ancient loyalty to their rightful Caliphs.A question here, a question there, and you got the khan.
When he reached the camp of the mongols, he was at first intimidated, the desolaters of Baghdad, but perhaps this war would redeem them.
He approached the first hand of the khan "Assalam Alekum, My Lord, Caliph Hakim, allows you to march into the lands of Egypt and Syria.He is returning to Cairo from the Hedjaz *cough cough* as you may have heard, he shall meet you there my lord.We have already prepared supplies and homesteads for your troops.This is a route map to Cairo, the location of graneries and towns for your troops."The man quickly presented a map of the Caliphate, ranging from Iraq to Gibraltar "Now I must go to Iraq, I have business there, anything else my lord?"

OOC: You are granted ROP through Egypt, accept it in the NS

 

[I Killed Kenny]

To Great Khan Abu Sa'id Yesugai

We've received information that your grace is mustering armies to attack Portugal and stop Our intention to conquer land in Africa. We would like to know if such rumours are true and know why are the mongols of the far-east interesting in the Portuguese business.
We wait for a reply.


Signed,

 

[Voshkod]

Basrah

With sunrise, the tide turned and the wind off the desert began to pick up. Sails unfurled into the warm breeze, and the war dhows of the Timurid Empire began to slip from the harbor, down the Persian Gulf, toward the open water of the Indian Ocean.

Ibn Kamal stood at the prow of the largest dhow and scanned the open water, burnished with the light of the rising sun. Within two days they would meet up with the rest of the fleet out of Hormouz. And then they would attempt the impossible.

He had few illusions. The sea was not friendly to the Mongols. The attempts to cross the narrow waters between China and Japan had shown that. As adept as they were upon horses, most Timurids rightly feared the sea. But the trip by sea paled in comparison to the challenges at the end of the water journey.

He was different. Born into a fisherman's family, raised on the waves, he held the ocean in healthy respect, but did not fear it. Horses, of course, he could not stand; the waves were his steppe, the dhow his steed.

Ibn Kamal set a course toward the straits.

[EDITED to reflect reality.]

 

[unmerged(4271)]

PRINCE UMAR RIDES WITH THE ARMIES OF THE KHAN

If there was but one thing the Berber Emir might be able to contribute to the battle effort of the fierce riders it was horsemanship. He would not presume to tell the descendants of the greatest horsemen in the history of the world how to battle. However, the Stallions of Fez, though quite different from the short, stout horses of the Steppes favored by these people, were the backbone of his nation's military.

He brought new tactics and new techniques, as alien to those in this part of the world as their ways were to him. Though the steeds were different, he would be able to serve competently. Contributing a new view when asked, and respectfully following orders when his opinion was not solicited.

The men of Khada Yesugai taught him things he had never known possible. Simple things that, once learned, seemed basic, but which had never been employed by his people. Silk shirts under their tunics were crafted so that enemy arrows would spin through the cloth, carrying it with the arrow head, allowing for a cleaner and safer removal.

The winds ripped past his covered face as he rode into the unknown, riding as if alive for the very first time, unaware of his brother in Samarkand and the news that would not reach him. Part of him wished he was riding East, rather than West. But perhaps one day, he would live to see that dream, too.

 

[Voshkod]

The Timurid fleet rounded the last headland. Before them lay the dusty town of Suez, baking in the sun. Ibn Kamal steered past the docks, ran his dhow right up on the sandy beach. All about him, dhows were riding the waves onto the desert shore.

He leapt out, shouted some orders and, like butchers on a cow, the sailors began to attack their ships. The masts fell first, then the rudders, then the hulls, breaking them down into smaller parts, dragging the wood up into the dunes. It took days of frenzied activity, but soon the entire Timurid fleet was resting on dry land in pieces.

Now the difficult part, thought Ibn Kamal as he looked deep into the eternal desert before us. The Khan is either mad or a genius. Or both. He turned to his crew. "Well, come on you bastards, this ship isn't going to move itself! The other ocean is that way!" He pointed out across the dunes. "Let's find it!"

The great portage of the Timurid fleet had begun. Sailors hefted parts of their ships, camels dragged the masts and larger hull sections, and the dhows set out across a dry, alien sea, among the great dunes.

 

[Voshkod]

Iraq - the tip of the spear

The scout troop approached the town on the riverside at a gallop. Terrified peasants wisely scattered before the Mongol outriders. The scouts rode into town, where some of the town leaders were gathering, collecting weapons. They reined in their horses.

"What town in this?," bellowed the scout leader in accented Arabic.

"Fallujah," replied a man brandishing a pitchfork. "What business have you here?"

"I am a herald of the Great Khan, Abu Sa'id Yesugai. The army of the Timurid Empire will be marching through here in a few days. You will not interfere with their progress, or you will all be killed and your town returned to dust. You have been warned." With that, he spurred his horse and the scouts rode out of town, down the dusty road, toward the next village.

Persia - The head of the army

The horses rose and fell over the softly undulating ground - or did the ground rise up and fall away from the horses? After so many hours riding through Persia, Khada Yesugai was no longer sure. He had slipped into a dream of riding, the world collapsed into a space no bigger than the wind, himself, and his steed. Now and again he would rouse himself from this strange stupor, make sure that Prince Umar and the others still rode with him, and then sink back into his own world of horse, rider, and speed.

Persia - The Khan's encampment

"But what if I don't like him?," Chabi whined for the tenth time.

Orqina sighed. "What's not to like, dear sister? He rules a powerful nation, he has several wives - so he probably won't come to you very often, though you should learn to enjoy his attentions - and is said to be a kind man."

"It's not what I want," Chabi said with as much finality as she could muster.

That was it. Orqina spun about. "It's not about what you want, Chabi! That has never been a consideration. Your blood and your womb is all anyone cares about - the fact that you share our father's blood and that you can bear male children that will have the same blood. You're a brood mare, sister, nothing more, and the Khan - your brother - has found a useful stallion to mate you to. So shut up, stop whining, and sit down by your sister and learn a few things about men."

 

[unmerged(4271)]

In Samarkand

Having received the news of the Sultana's elevation to Emperess, Mirza Mohammad-Reza sought out whomever among the advisors of the Khan would need to record and sign the treaty proposed by Yasmine Mohammed..

Winding his way through the elaborate palace he finally found the appropriate counsellors, to whom he presented the following:

War Time Rights of Access through the Maghrib Trade (January 1455)​

I. The Almohad Empire grants wartime rights of passage to the Timurid Empire through the provinces Algeria, Fez, and Morocco. War time is defined as a period whereupon a declared state of war exists against either the Timurid Empire of the Almohad Empire.

II. During wartime conflict when both empires share a common enemy, Timurid and Almohad Navies, Armies, and Merchants are granted safe passage and quarter in each others' respective lands during periods of declared war. They shall not allow the armies of non-signatories to travel in their realms during war time.

III. This treaty shall expire and be subject to renewal in 10 years.

 

[Prince Eugene]

An Official Proclamation from the Osmanli Empire can be found in the courts of the Caliph, of the Pope, of the Portuguese & Castilian kings, of the Egyptian sultan & Timurid khan, and in various important courts in Algiers, Fez, and Morocco.​

Unto the Participants of the Western Mediterranean War

In the year 832 of the Prophet Muhammad, PBUH​

Your Majesties,

For too long has a great war plagued humanity that has threatened the already weak balance of peace between Christianity and Islam. Unless we wish for this balance to finally break and for a massive religious war to ensue, certain steps must be taken to end the great war in the western Mediterranean sea. Many Turkish volunteers have risen to the banner of the Almohad emperor to fight for his cause, and many have been slain at the hands of Christians. I see the effects of this war in the form of those dead men who will never return to my nation and who will never see their families again.

No one cannot forever fight on without cause, but as it is now everyone is forever fighting a war fueled by bitter hatred and malice. Akbe Mohammed was slain at the hands of the forces of Christianity. The man who started all of this lives no more, and there is no reason to continue this conflict which constantly provokes me to intervene on behalf of my people - the Islamic people. Let us set aside our differences and seek to once again live in a balance of peace between the two great religions, even if that balance be shaky.

I propose that the following measures be taken to rid to eliminate the aminosities that came into being when the Almohad Empire struck the Kingdom of Aragon:

-that the Balearic islands be turned over to the Holy See, to govern them or distribute them to another nation as his Christian Holiness sees fit.

-that the sultanate of Morocco, which was illegally invaded and conquered by the Almohads be restored as a sovereign nation and that the authority of its rightful ruling house of al-Muwahhid be reinstated.

-that in exchange for the Almohads ending the illegal occupation of Morocco, the house of Osman recognize the Almohad Emperor and all of his successors as determined by the Emir-Electors as the sole and legitimate heirs to Idris IV (d. 1269), the last legitimate Almohad emperor.

-that in order to provide appropriate compensation for warring the nations of Iberia, the Almohad Empire turn over the port of Tangiers to the Kingdom of Portugal

-that the Kingdom of Portugal renounces all claims on the African continent other than Tangiers and promises not to seek further aggression against the Almohad Empire.

Dictated in Bursa,

Sultan II. Mehmed Han bin-Murad, Padishah, Hünkar, Ruler of Both Lands and Both Seas, Sovereign of The Osman Family, Sultan es Selatin, Khakhan, Khan of the Ak Koyunlu, Padishas of The Three Cities of Istanbul, Adrianople, and Bursa, of the Marmara Sea, the Black Sea, Anatolia, Rumelia, Kurdistan, Armenia, Daghestan, Trebizond, Karaman, & the Crimea

 

[unmerged(8054)]

- EVENT -

Right Of Passage

​

The mongol horde is on the move. Thousands of horsemen are massed at the border of the Kaliphate, which untill only recently were included in the Timurid possessions.
The citizens of Baghdad arm for a final, desperate fight for independence, when emissaries from the Timurids inform them that the army only wants to march through.
The threath of thousands of armed men, and the call for jihad so recently issued by the Caliph, combine to open the borders of the small state.
Baghdad is safe, but the surrounding countryside pay the price as the marching army lives of the land.

RESULT:
The Timurid Empire gains Right of Passage through the Kaliphate for the duration of the called Jihad.

 

[von Streusser]

EVENT

The Impossible Portage

​

Desperate times, desperate measures. The Timurid fleets, useless in their home waters, will try to go to war. Sailing from the Persian Gulf to the Red Sea, they make landfall at Suez. The sailors break apart their beloved ships - sails, hulls, rudders - and begin to drag them into a new sea, one of sand and dunes. The Mediterranean and the war stand over the horizon, but the desert is a harsh ocean on which to sail.


MODIFIERS: None
Timurid Empire spends 2 SM with possibility to be returned unspent in either Red Sea or Mediterranean.


TABLE:

1. The men die among the dunes. The ships stay stranded in the desert, a sight of wonder for future travellers.
(-2 SM to Timurid Empire)

2. The absurdity of this plan becomes plain too late. Boats don't sail on sand.
(-1 SM to Timurid Empire, 1 SM returns unspent in Red Sea)

3~4. Trying to drag the hulls even a few yards in the desert proved to be impossible. The plan is abandoned almost before it begins.
(2 SM returns unspent in Red Sea)

5. It's difficult going, but a partial success.
(-1 SM to Timurid Empire, 1 SM returns unspent in Mediterranean)

6. This will go down in the annals of military engineering.
(2 SM returns unspent in Mediterranean)

ROLL: 3

RESULT: Trying to drag the hulls even a few yards in the desert proved to be impossible. The plan is abandoned almost before it begins.
(2 SM returns unspent in Red Sea)

 

[Cecasander]

A short note written by prince Hasan of the Hedjaz confirmed that he would return the scimicar to the Caliph when the next diplomatic convoy heads to Cairo.

 

[Voshkod]

Khada and Prince Umar, riding with the advanced scouts, reached the dusty dry river bed that was the apparent border between Egypt and Tunisia. Tunisian soldiers stood along the far side of the gulf, grim faced. The returned horsemen told the story; not acceptance, not rejection, but a madding silence from Tunisia in response to the Khan's request for passage.

Khada rode his horse up and down the river for a moment, trying to tamp down his urge to charge across it and cut the Tunisian fools down. He settled for a verbal attack.

"If your Sultan cannot even give the Khan of the Timurids the courtesy of a reply to his request, if he can't rouse himself to open his borders to an army riding to the aid of a besieged ally, then to hell with him! The borders of Dar al-Islam no longer encompass Tunisia. May the crusaders slay you all!"

Being defeated by silence was worse than defeat in war. The advanced scouts of the Mongol army retreated to the verdant plain around Cairo, to rest and await development.

 

[Arilou]

A man dressed in traditional mongol garb arrives on horseback at the camp of the Timurid Khan.
"Greetings oh Great Khan, from an equal in exile! I am Yildiz and once i was called Khan, though now I am merely the Grand-Vizier of a pebblestone Emirate. I bring you tidings of friendship on behalf of the glorious Emir Murat I of Dulkadir!"

 

[Voshkod]

Yildiz is brought before the Khan in his camp on the banks of the Nile. The Great Khan, still angry over the Tunisian debacle, does not look happy.

"So, you are Yildiz who was once Khan, and you claim to be my equal? What were you Khan of?" The Khan rose, swept his arm in an gesture encompassing the Horde that was encamped around him. "Could you have raised this force?"