On the Banks of the Tigris
Chapter 5: So Close, Yet Ever So Far
Rajab 34, 332 (March 21, 944)
Abdul sat in his hall, upon his throne. In front of him, stretching out across the large garden that he held major events in these days, there were hundreds of people, from loyal ministers to obnoxious vassals, valiant warriors to silk road merchants, and more family members of various types than he cared to remember even on the best of days, all there in attendance to him on this, his 75th birthday. As he sat looking out at the slowly flowing river Tigris below, and then out over the lands that surrounded him, the lemon and orange trees just beginning to blossom, he remembered. He remembered his past, having grown up here. He was given this castle to ‘rule’ from nearly the moment he was born, handed to him out of a sense of nepotism from his brother the Caliph. How foolish he had been. Now he is gone, much of his lands belonged to Abdul. The Caliphate title stands empty, and now the white northern devils threatened all parts of the Muslim world. Not that he minded if the Schismatic from Carthage was taken to Jahannam[1], but if Andalusia fell he may very well be next for their perverted version of the Shallow Jihad. His bones ached. They always ached these days. He remembered his first wedding night. How nervous he had been, particularly as his...desires did not rest in women, but in other men. How sad he had been when his loyal companion, his Jafar, had gone off to battle to protect him, and come home carried on his shield. That had hurt him worst of anything. The last time he saw his Brother the Caliph when he accepted his surrender, the day his father died, none of that compared to losing Jafar. There had been others, of course, here and there. He had always been discreet about his tendencies, though at his age he no longer truly cared. Nonetheless, he had done his duties, and done them quite well. But that was not what made today a good day. No the best was yet to come. He summoned up what strength resided in him, and rose to speak. Nearly at once, all the chatter across the garden silenced, leaving only the birds and insects. No one expected what was to come next, not even the wives of the old Sultan, who sat with the other women inside the nearby pavilion. Abdul could even see his grandson looking worriedly, hoping he wasn’t about to go into one of what he called his “lunacy rants” bah, what does he know, the no violence act was a good idea whether they think so or not. No matter, focus, you’ve left them hanging long enough. And with that, he began to speak.
“My people, dare I say my friends. 75 years is far too short a time to live amongst such incredible people. I must admit, I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve!” People were looking around confusedly, now he had them. The voices in his head may be obnoxious, but the did come in handy for dramatic effect now and then.
“But that is not truly why you are here, not why Allah brought you here today. You are here today to witness a pact. A pact between myself and my children, between myself and my people, and between myself and my faith.” With every passing word his voice drew stronger, taking the last ounces of strength he would have for many days to say.
“Islam itself is in danger! While the Shia cower in North Africa, ever a danger to honest Muslims, an even greater threat lurks to the north. The Christians are making a vengeful return, and no one stands in their way. The Caliphate stands empty. Hindu pagans encroach into Persia, and no one opposes their conquests for long enough to make a difference. Our whole world stands on a precipice, with a choice in front of us! Do we go quietly into the histories, or do we stand tall? Stand proud! Proud to be humble before Allah, humility lacing our pride! We are the sons and daughters (with this he looked over at the pavilion where he knew the women were listening) of great warriors, merchants, and most of all faithful who brought the light of Islam to so many lives. Will we now sit and let all of that fall to dust? No! I cannot allow it, I will not allow it, and anyone who wants that fate is worse than a Kafir! Therefore I pledge to you, my friends, my countrymen, that we will march to the holy cities, to Mecca and Medina. Once they are ours, I will proclaim myself Caliph, brother of the Caliph before me once more, and ensure the future of Islam in this world! But I am old,” and with this his voice fell from thundering majesty to quiet dignity of age “and I very well may not survive our march across the desert. So I charge and command this: may Allah protect and guide my family to the holy cities, and should I not live to see the conclusion of this holy quest, may my children, and their children, and theirs after that, take up this burden I have charged them with, and protect Islam from the dangers that surround it. Pick up the sword of Islam, and march forward for our future, and our children’s future and the future of Allah’s faithful on this earth!” With that, an at first unsure audience broke into thunderous applause, the likes of which Abdul the Undying had never heard before.
الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة الجنة
“Nice speach”
“Wasn’t it thought? I had a devil of a time convincing him to say it, but it was so worth every bit of it.”
“I especially love the hobbit reference” with that she bumped her hip against his, and he had to wave away the guards who in an instant had their weapons pointed directly at her heart.
“I couldn’t resist. Anyway, he has his orders, and he will carry them out diligently. I know he will, after all these years for him. Soon, the first shipments can begin to arrive, and our little nation will survive another long, cold, night. Another threat to our very survival. We may have just saved our people from annihilation. Good work.”
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I swear, you can’t make this up. This guy lived to be 81.
Abdul the undying indeed. Just look at the dynastic score this guy gave me. Sorry Vaniver, no Magus of the Hermetics for you today. And just look at the litany of traits he had by the end. Infirmity and insanity set in in his last years, but still, not a bad mix. Unfortunately, despite their temporal success, my next few rulers wouldn’t be as...impressive... as Abdul the Undying.
So this session I began my march on Mecca, with mixed results. This is the kind of alliance network that existed nearly everywhere around me. In many ways, my decision to go for Mecca and Medina over Jerusalem and Damascus (I already have Baghdad) is more down to practicality than anything else. I simply didn’t have the funds or the manpower to take on the Fatimids and their thousand allies nor Galilee. At least they’re both still Sunni, for the moment.
This is Sultan Al-Muhtadi. He is the first of what I’m calling “The Era of the Decade Sultans.” Neither he nor his next two successors would reign for more than 10 years at most, including the lands they held before gaining the Sultanate. Not great on the dynastic score because they neither accomplished much nor died in large enough numbers to run up my score like Mark did. Nonetheless, just how amazing Abdul the Undying was catapulted me into second place on score, and his descendents would put me on the great power list eventually.
Seriously, every 10 years or so, it was like clockwork for a while.
A look at the Sunni faith when we are on the cusp of eventual victory. As you can see, moral authority is holding, for now. That won’t last. At this point I had to do a bit of realpolitik. Firehound, our Nubian Ibadi player, wanted his caliphate, and for that he needed Medina. He was going to war for it, but not winning very quickly. I still needed my caliphate, but he had more troops and more capacity than me, my only advantage was silk road monies that were blocked off for most of the session by these two counts in literally the first and second silk road provinces that were at war for decades, each with the other sieged down, neither apparently thinking they could win. It was very frustrating. Seriously, they were like that for so long, it lasted into the next session. So I made a deal by which we could swap holy cities for long enough for him to also get his Caliphate (he can’t Jihad me so I don’t really care, and would rather a strong Muslim of any kind as opposed to something else) and I could keep my grip over Arabia. It worked out well, hopefully there can be peace in our time until greater threats are taken care of. That’s it for this installment, come back next time where I will hopefully finally get caught up and finally achieve greatness, for however long that is going to last. More shenanigans and schemes on the way, next time on: On the Banks of the Tigris!
