Prologue – al Gauti
July 14th, 1063
It was right there, within his reach. Only its head was visible in tall grass, but Bold knew well what this rodent looked like, with its stout body and short limbs covered in fine brown fur. For the past few years, marmot was one of primary sources of food. They’re hard to track down, but once they are, they can be found in bigger numbers, making it easy to hunt them down. One must be careful, though, and skilled archer, for he doesn’t want to damage meat with too many shots, especially shots to the wrong part of the animal. Even worst case is a missed shot, which would only drive animal back to its lair. Bold’s father once told him to only aim for the head, giving the animal a quick, painless death without damaging the body. One Bold was after wandered off from others for some reason unknown to him. Perhaps it was looking for food, or water. Bold didn't care, it was right in front of him.
Animal moved through tall grass with caution, surrounded by tall trees. The forest was unusually dense, thus providing Bold with many covers he used while following marmot for over two hours now, while he found a cover next to the tree with bow at the ready. Another thing he learnt over the years he lived in the steppe was patience. Patience was the key to survival in these harsh conditions.. His gaze set upon the head of a rodent, Bold raised his bow towards it, pulling a tendon all the way to his right ear, with arrow ready to be fired. Taking a deep breath, Bold closed one eye and aimed for the head. His senses sharpened and it seemed his heart slowed down. Releasing the tendon, arrow swished through air and space, and Bold exhaled. Tip of an arrow made a piercing sound as it went through marmot's head. With caution, he stood up and looked around himself for any signs of wolves or any other kind of danger. Proceeding towards corpse of his prey, Bold pulled another arrow from quiver on his back and prepared himself just in case. Steel dagger long as his forearm was sheathed on his waist, sharpened and deadly. Standing above the dead marmot, Bold felt pride for his accuracy as arrow went right through the eye, but felt sorry for animal. He didn’t enjoy killing, but at least he gave it a quick, painless death. And yet for some reason, he felt proud as always when hunt was successful.
‘’Aim always for the head, right father?’’ Bold talked to himself reminding how his father always used to say allowing himself to smirk as he crouched next to the body to pull an arrow out of animal’s head. Some of it’s brains were visible on iron tip of an arrow, which broke as Bold tried to pull it out. Cursing to himself, he pulled out a broken tip from animal and tied the corpse by its neck to the right side of his belt. Turning back, he advanced uphill in the forest, following a small rill which led to a rock behind which his horse was tied to a tree. As Bold approached it, it neighed angrily.
‘’My apologies, lord Aspen.’’ Bold apologized to his mount with an eyeroll ‘’It’s not my intention that you had to wait this long. Blame it on this guy on my belt.’’ Leaning on the saddle with a yawn, Bold saw how Aspen glanced back at him before letting out a soft nicker. Untying Aspen from the tree, Bold attached carcass on side under the saddle, mounting his horse afterwards. Bold rode for quite a long time, proof being the Sun which was much closer to the west than when he left the forest with his prey. Looking forward as he rode, Bold enjoyed the sight of vast plain in front of him, which seemed endless. It was not dead like hot deserts of Persia, but something about it made it even more scary. For past six years, Bold learned so much about this land called the Great Steppe, yet he realized that he knows so little about it. Having to flee to this cruel land with his people played a huge role in changing him as a person. This new, cruel life shaped him up and turned him into a man he was right now. To survive the elements of this strange land was a challenge by itself, but then there are the others. Fierce horselords and their powerful tribes. Same ones Persians fought when they fled here. Bold remembered it as if it was yesterday when they had to fight Cumans in the west before they fled east, towards Mongol hordes and the empires on the other side of the mountains. Memories of those days still cruised around in Bold’s head, reminding him of yet another cruelty his people had to suffer.
He stopped at the top of the small hill, overlooking a valley that led into a mountain range that nomads called Altai mountains. In a valley, there was large collection of
yurts where his people lived. He was home. Riding in a trotting pace, Bold slowly approached the dwelling of his people. He spotted three riders galloping towards him from the habitat. Precautionary measure. No one is allowed to enter the habitat without permission. Even if one would leave habitat in morning to hunt, it is essential upon his return that he is checked and verified as a Persian before being allowed to enter. That procedure befalls even the son of great
Said al Gauti.
Riders slowed down to a trot upon approaching Bold, stopping their horses in front of him, sheathing their weapons.
‘’Young master.’’ one of the soldiers greeted Bold to which he replied with a nod ‘’I see Your hunting was bountiful.’’
Bold smiled proudly, happy his father's men recognized his worth, looking down at marmot’s carcass and answered honestly ‘’I was very fortunate considering there aren’t many of them left here.’’
‘’Indeed.’’ Guard nodded and turned his horse around to follow Bold who advanced towards the habitat. Going inside, Bold rode through an organized camp.
Yurts were raised on both sides of a dust road which led to the center of the camp. There were two entrances. One on the west that Bold came in through and another one in the east which lead deeper in the valley and to the Altai mountains. There were ten main streets total, with smaller narrow roads that connected main streets making it easier to traverse through the habitat. Street that led from the western entrance towards the center of the habitat was also known as the
Market street, with several stands built on both sides of it, selling all kinds of goods, from meats through animal pelts ending with weaponry and armors. Some merchants even sold jewelry. Those stands were much more scarce than stands some two years ago, a proof that they will have to find a new place to live.
Yurts that comprised the biggest part of the habitat were mostly gray and white, small circular tents with opening in the middle for a chimney. Persians had many troubles adapting to these new houses when they first arrived. It took quite some time for them to master
yurt building, which was a necessity. The adaption wasn't that difficult though, as most of Persian nomads already lived on the northern border of the former Persian kingdom, neighbouring to the nomadic tribes which they usually had to fight during their attacks and raids.
Market street was calm in the evening, like it usually was and Bold enjoyed slow trot towards his own yurt
. Some of the children could still be seen playing outside, many of them born in the steppe, clueless of life in Persia. Bold envied them, for they didn't know a better life than this. Upon reaching his yurt
, he jumped off Aspen’s back. With marmot tied to his belt he walked towards the entrance of the biggest yurt in the habitat. At least twice bigger than any other in the habitat, it was a home to leader of Persians, Said al Gauti, Bold’s father. Removing the curtains, he stepped inside. Interior consisted of expanding wooden circular frame carrying a felt cover, felt itself made from wool. The frame consisted of more expanding lattice-wall sections, a door frame, bent roof poles and a crown. In the middle of yurt was a fireplace. Wall sections were decorated with luxury cloths and paintings from Persia, but also Zoroastrian symbols, most prominent being
Faravahar just behind the fireplace. Ancient symbol of Zoroaster, some presume the man in the symbol symbolizes
Ahura Mazda Himself. Floor was covered with dozens of pelts making it somewhat warmer. In the middle was a fireplace with a cooking pot above it. His sister Ashraf was nowhere to be seen, though Leila, Bold’s mother, was praying by the fireplace below the Faravahar. Not daring to interrupt her, Bold moved quietly towards the wooden table, having spotted cooked venison on a big metal plate. He was so close, his hand moving on instinct towards meat, fingers spreading to take a piece of it. It was within his grasp.
‘
’Don’t you dare, Bold.’’ this simple order was enough to freeze Bold in space. He backed away.
Leila stood up and turned her back to the fire, facing Bold instead ‘’You’ll eat once your father comes home.’’
Bold nodded sadly, aware that there was no point in arguing with his mother ‘’Yes, mother.’’ She was tall Persian woman, renowned for her beauty. Her black hair was tied to a ponytail and her bronze skin was clean and aromatic. Leila’s penetrating, mysterious black eyes could conquer any man in the world. She wore purple silk dress, with red vines on the top of the sleeves which reached all the way up to her shoulders, ending in what was a revealing décolleté.
‘’I see your hunt went well.’’ she said to change the subject ‘’I was beginning to worry where you are. You left early in the morning.’’
Bold frowned and untied the carcass from his belt, placing it on a table, receiving a strict look from his mother for doing so. ‘’I don’t even know how I found this one.’’ Allowing himself to sit on a set of pillows in the corner of the yurt, he asked ‘’Where is father?’’
‘’He’s out somewhere with Armin and Hormuz.’’
‘’I hope they are going to agree that we should find new pastures. It’s taking them too long.’’ he said, rolling his eyes while he leaned backwards, staring at the ceiling.
‘’Don’t question decisions of your father, Bold. He’s knows what’s best for us.’’ Leila answered in angry tone, forcing Bold to gaze at her with annoyance. ‘’We still didn’t recover fully since Cumans attacked us.’’
Bold could still remember that day. Cuman horde entering their habitat in the west, killing everyone on their way. Over two thousand Persians died in conflict with Cumans, which was more than a fifth of total population of those that followed Said to the
Great Steppe. It was a devastating blow to the Persians, but one they had to live through. It was this war where Said earned the nickname
Al Gauti for leading Persian counterattack which dealt a huge blow to Cuman horde
. It had a lot of meanings in steppe languages, most of them translating to a warlord and such. The Great Steppe consisted of countless tribes, large and small. Persians were considered one of largest tribes in the steppe which could muster many horsemen who outnumbered majority of the other tribes. And as such, they posed a danger to other tribes which would usually unite to try and destroy them.
It was quiet in yurt for a while, until a peace was disturbed by laughter that entered inside in the form of Said and Ashraf on his back. Bold’s little sister was laughing her lungs out when Said threw her on the pillows next to Bold, provoking another eyeroll of his son.
‘’Bold.’’ Said said, adding a nod.
‘’Father.’’ Bold greeted back, staring right into Al Gauti’s distinct yellow eyes.
Set of arms wrapped around Said from behind provoking his grin. Leila kissed him on the neck before he turned to give her a passionate kiss.
‘’Cover your eyes, Ashraf.’’ Bold ordered as he felt the urge to puke before he turned from a horrific sight himself.
Said, leader of Persian nomads and known as al Gauti throughout the Great Steppe.
Most of evening was spent at the table. Venison was gone in a less than hour and marmot Bold hunted down was getting ready for skinning before it rots away. Bold was meaning to ask Said about his day with Armin and Hormuz, but feared what his mother would say remembering her outburst on the comment he made earlier. He kept his mouth zipped. He knew better than to question the decisions of his father right in front of him. Said earned his monicker
al Gauti with reason. Cumans, Mongols, Kirghiz didn't defeat themselves. In just six years, Persians have become quite a force in the steppe.
‘’I decided something today.’’ Said announced out of blue as he held a metal cup filled with black brandy in his hand. ‘’I will ride out to find a wife for Bold.’’
Leila laughed at this while Ashraf stared at her father in confusion. Said was smirking himself and tried to hide it with a sip of black brandy. Bold was quiet.
‘’What do you say, Bold?’’ Said asked after some time ‘’You are unusually quiet.’’
Boy shook his head ‘’Well.. I’m a.. why?’’
Said leaned towards his son, but looked at everyone separately ‘’As all of you know, peace with Cumans is very fragile and we are on brink of another war, one we cannot win. We need allies. And you all know that there is no easier alliance than marriage.’’
Bold nodded, still shocked by his father’s decision, but trying to keep his calm ‘’Where are you going to look for my future wife?’’
‘’In one of Kirghiz tribes in the south, ones Hormuz visited last summer.’’
Bold nodded in acceptance, keeping emotionless face in front of his father without giving away any reaction to what his father just announced. After that his mother suddenly decided it was right to tease him about it, and Said joined right in, while little Ashraf just stared at them without a clue of what’s going on.
‘’A
wife?’’ Bold asked himself as he walked outside, enjoying in a chilly summer night. He still required a fur cloak not to freeze, though. Nights in the steppe weren’t as forgiving as in Persia. An occasional guard would walk past Bold. Before he realized, he found himself at the western edge of the camp, taking a seat on a grass behind a last yurt, which revealed a large valley in front of him, drowned in darkness. Silhouettes in a shape of mountains could be seen in a distance above which moon hung in the clear sky, enlightening the earth in a dark manner. He began to wonder about things as many thoughts raced through his head.
What is my wife going to look like? Is there going to be another war? Where are we going to move next? South? East? Perhaps even west towards the Mongol hordes? But there are Cumans in the east just waiting for our return to finish what they started.
Time passed rather quickly and before Bold realized, it was midnight. Making himself stand up at last, he gave one last glance in the valley which led into Altai mountains. It was dark and quiet which made it somehow terrifying. Who knows what could lie there in dark? Bold was not afraid of dark.
Turning around, he headed deeper into habitat, his head still filled with thoughts. He stopped turning his head back towards the darkness of the Altai valley, gaze of his yellow eyes set upon it. For a moment, there was nothing, just eerie silence. But he knew he heard it. The familiar sound sound of hoofs.
Am I imagining things?
He stared in the darkness, hairs on his hand raising of dread. He could not possibly imagine those sounds, they were getting louder. All of the sudden, dark shapes emerged out of valley. Dozens of shapes riding horses towards Persian home. Galloping towards it. At first it seemed like dozen, but number increased to hundreds. Bold ran.
‘’We are under attack!’’ he shouted at the top of his lungs ‘’Brace yourselves, we are under attack!’’
In a matter of moments,
streets of the habitat were filled with soldiers saddling their horses and preparing to defend their home and their people with swords and torches in their hands. But it was not enough. Turning around, he saw riders entering the camp, already beginning the slaughter, beginning with a volley of arrows fired at unprepared Persians. They were screaming and taunting in a tongue Bold couldn’t comprehend. Bold asked himself same question over and over
Who are they? What happened to the sentries? Where was the warning for the attack? For a first time in years, he felt truly terrified. He was being pushed away by passangers and riders who rode to fight the invaders. One of riders galloped right into Bold knocking him on the ground, followed by others who stepped on him and kicked him almost unconscious. He felt warm blood rushing down his nose into his mouth. Grasping what strength he retained after his own kinsmen assaulted him, although not on purpose, Bold stood up and looked towards the valley, but he lost the sight of invaders because of dozens of yurts in the way. There was a rising light in their direction, producing smoke which rose high in the sky. Western side of the camp was burning. He was lost when he looked around himself. Terror and panic were ruling in the habitat. Those who could not fight rushed towards eastern end of the settlement in hope to survive, carrying their crying children. And then he remembered.
Where is father?
As he approached his yurt, he recognized a rider who rode past him.
‘’Hormuz!’’ he called out to him, prompting rider to stop and ride back to him, looking down at him with worried face ‘’Where is father?’’
‘’Said is organizing defence in the Market street. He was looking for you. Run back, Bold. Now!’’
Bold didn't like the authorative tone in Hormuz's voice when he commanded him, but nontheless he obeyed the order of his father’s right hand without question and ran towards the what was probably most important part of Persian habitat, while Hormuz rode to gather the survivors and fight off the invaders, followed by ten other riders. Leila's eyes were filled with tears when she spotted Bold running towards them.
‘’I thought I lost you.’’ she said as she embraced her son and pointed at the bruises on his face and blood rushing down his nose ‘’You are hurt.’’
He shook his head and looked around himself, seeing only women, children and elders. These were no warriors, and what was most important, his father was nowhere to be seen. ‘’Where is father?’’
‘’He is riding with his warriors around the settlement to flank them.’’
Bold cursed under his breath as his eyes moved around the habitat looking for a horse. He didn’t even spot Ashraf who cried behind her mother, while Leila knelt next to her to console her. And he spotted one at last, tied to a wooden pole on the edge of the camp. He raced towards it, ignoring his mother’s protest and orders to come back. There was much at stake here, and Persians needed every man who could fight.
I’m sorry mother, but I am useless here, Bold thought as he mounted his horse after cutting down a rope which tied it to a pole with his steel dagger, only weapon he had at hand. Kicking the horse with his heels, he rode outside the habitat to the darkness of the night, and around it following his father. Fire was spreading fast and almost reached the center of the habitat, but Bold was unswayed by it. Clashing of metal could be heard as Bold entered from the west where invaders galloped in, burning and killing everything in their path. Numerous corpses of both men and horses were lying on dust painting it red as battle moved deeper inside. Picking up a sabre from one of the corpses, he proceeded towards heat of the battle, avoiding fires and coughing from smoke. His horse reacted to blood and corpses and hesitated to ride deeper inside in some occasions. This was no horse bred for battle and Bold cursed to the disobeying animal. When he reached the heat of battle, he was lost completely that he had to stop. There was no way he could comprehend the difference between Persians and invaders. He could tell the difference only if one of invaders would attack him directly, as one did by firing an arrow aiming at his head. It whistled right past his right ear, prompting him to join the fray at last. He galloped towards that rider, avoiding to collide with other warriors and with his dagger held high. Taking a full swing, he cut the rider on his chest knocking him on the ground. Rider still held his bow in hand, too slow to react to Bold's slice. Stopping to turn his horse around as he faced the yurt, he smiled, proud of his first kill. Or at least he thought he killed. Rider he just cut down raised to his feet with another arrow at the ready aiming towards him. Tip of the arrow hit Bold’s horse to the head, and he fell, his leg trapped beneath the corpse of fallen horse.
Bold punched the corpse in agony, trying to free himself and escape a death in form of footsteps which approached him. It was all in vain. He could not free himself. Horse was too heavy.
‘’Damn this bloody horse!’’ he cursed to himself as he looked above at warrior drawing out a blade from his sheath. He grinned a bloody smile at Bold, a smile which told him
I am not dead yet, boy. Confidence he felt, determination to defend his people, it was all gone in a second. After all, he was just a
boy. And there he was, trapped below corpse, waiting to be killed. It was amusing in a way. A son of great
Said al Gauti, dying such a stupid death. Such an embarrassment. One clean slice was enough to remove warrior’s head from his shoulders. His corpse fell towards Bold and he could see the opening of his neck, as dark blood satiated the ground beneath him.
What has just happened?
‘’Hormuz. Help me with him.’’ al Gauti ordered after he jumped off his horse, followed by Hormuz, to remove corpse of Bold’s mount and free the boy. Bold made a grimace from a pain in his leg.
‘’How are you feeling?’’ Said asked in a cold voice, looking Bold right in the eyes. His face was emotionless and covered in blood of his enemies. Bold felt the urge to apologize to his father for being useless. He felt embarassed and humiliated Receiving no answer from his son, Said helped him get on his feet and placed him on a back of his horse behind him. Only now, feeling safe behind his father, Bold saw that the fighting was calming down. In this particular area, invaders were all killed, but Said and Hormuz were followed just by a dozen of riders. Casualties were already heavy. Said wasn’t talking, which made Bold uneasy. He wanted him to shout at him, to yell at him for being useless, to say something at least. His wish wasn’t granted. All of warriors who followed his father had determined, emotionless faces. Their eyes gave away their determination and tension could be caught in the air. Gazing on burning yurts around him, Bold realized that he just lost his home, again.
When is this going to stop?
By now, invaders have cut their way through habitat all the way up to those who could not fight, in other words, to Bold’s mother and sister.
‘’
Azwash!’’ Said cried out an old Persian warcry, unsheathing his sword to destroy the enemies of Persia as they charged at warriors slaughtering civilians in the Market street. Dozens of warriors followed behind as Persians surprised their enemies from behind. Another party of Persian warriors joined the fight from the east, flanking invaders on both sides. But they were still outnumbered. Bold recognized many faces lying in dirt, bloodied with blank stare into nothingness. A deep part of him was still asking
What is happening? Who are these enemies? Seeing Leila impaling one invader with her sword before being surrounded by six others approaching on foot, Bold poked his father in his ribs and pointed towards them.
‘’Damn!’’ Said cursed as he turned his horse in their direction while battle raged around them. Hormuz, who caught his gaze from behind, nodded his head in approval acknowledging al Gauti’s need to protect his family. Said charged towards his wife and daughter. Bold picked up a spear sticking out from one of the corpses and pointed towards one of warriors while Said took a full swing from the left to cut one down. Synchronizing their attacks, father and son defeated two warriors, Said slicing through one’s neck, while Bold impaled another one through the back. Blood sprayed his face. He could taste it on his lips, the taste of iron. There were still four of them left.
‘’Go to your mother.’’ Said ordered and Bold jumped from the horse, making a painful grimace as he landed on the wrong foot. Limping towards his mother, he turned to face their enemies as Ashraf stood behind. A battle ensued with invaders as father, mother and son fought for their lives. Said managed to take down three of them on his own from horseback with ease, circrling around them with his horse without allowing them to approach his family while cutting them down one by one, while last one was taken down with combined efforts of Leila and Bold. Stabbing last one through neck, Leila taunted as she got into his face, screaming as she ended his life Her silk dress was covered in blood and Bold could barely recognize his mother, who was more terrifying than ever before.
‘’Armin is nowhere to be found.’’ Said cursed as he approached his family ‘’I fear he fell in battle.’’
Now that Said mentioned, Bold noticed the absence of his father’s best friend. A man probably most respected after Said, he contributed a lot to Persians, being their second in command after Said. His fall would be a devastating blow.
‘’Bold.’’ Said said in a strict voice ‘’Protect your mother and sister. Lead them outside with others. I’ll order Hormuz to follow you with few warriors. Do you understand me?''
Boy nodded his head and turned to his mother for a look of approval before obeying his father’s order. When Leila gave him a serious nod, he proceeded away from the battle, feeling proud and excited for being granted such an opportunity to prove himself to his father and people. When invaders noticed them leaving the battleground, they charged for them but their advances were blocked by Said and his warriors. Not long after, those who could not fight followed Bold, their numbers increasing moment after moment until it reached numbers of several hundreds. They were at the edge of the habitat with a vast plain in front of them. Bold dared not to look back at habitat for his father, knowing it would sway his determination to obey the orders and save his people.
I will lead them, he thought as mass of Persians followed behind him, burdening him with greatest responsibility of his life. Upon reaching a small hill west of the habitat, they were joined by Hormuz who rode to them with several dozens of warriors and survivors.
‘’Are you well?’’ Hormuz asked Leila with worry in his voice, unmounting his horse and offering it for her and Ashraf. When she nodded her head, he continued ‘’Said ordered us to retreat to the forest until he deals with invaders.’’
‘’But they are still outnumbered.’’ Bold protested allowing himself to look at his burning home.
‘’al Gauti won harder battles, boy.’’ Hormuz said seriously ‘’He’ll join us soon.’’
Bold frowned on being called a boy and gave Hormuz a cold look which older warrior ignored.
‘’You did good, Bold.’’ Leila said caressing the cheek of her soon, provoking a slight smile. ‘’We should go now. We aren’t safe in the open.’’
Persians’ retreat was, however, interrupted by another party of invaders who galloped from the west, surprising them and disrupting their last resort for survival. It happened in flash. Hormuz was shot down from his horse which he took from another warrior, presumably killed. Persians all around him were slaughtered. It seemed hopeless, as if it was end of the world. Swingings his sabre, one of riders was galloping towards Bold and his mother and sister. To take one last thing they got left. Their life.
No.
Front legs of his horse were shortened with one full swing of Bold’s blade, and rider’s life was ended by a thrust through the back of his skull.
‘’Fight on, Persians!’’ Bold encouraged, full of fire and confidence.
No.
‘’For freedom!’’
Persians were fighting back.
‘’For Persia!’’
Battle was hard, but Persians fought back. Leila fought as she protected her daughter, cutting down another warrior from his horse, sending him to the underworld.
‘’
Azwash!’’ he cried his lungs out as Persians fought for their lives, for their freedom and their people.
Not today.
Whistling through the air, an arrow grazed Bold’s shoulder as he dodged barely in time, reminding that even though Persians are fighting back, it’s still stalemate. Exchanging blows with one of enemies who surprised him from the side, Bold held his ground until Hormuz, who survived the fall, sepereated invader’s head from his shoulders. Nodding to Hormuz gratefully, Bold turned to his mother and sister and found them, widening his eyes as he saw Leila fighting two men at once. Rushing towards them, leaving Hormuz behind fighting with another warrior, Bold felt his heart jumping out of his chest seeing Leila fighting them, screaming in agony. It was not good.
Just a little bit, he reassured himself, trying to run towards his mother as one of the warriors knocked the blade out of her hand, leaving her without means to defend herself. Bold’s fingers reached towards his mother as second of the two warriors impaled her through abdomen, soaking her silk dress in black blood.
‘’
NO!’’ Bold screamed in anguish swinging from behind, having stuck his blade in the neck of the soldier who impaled his mother. Before the other one could react, Bold jumped on him and stabbed him with his dagger, knocking both of them on the ground. He was dead in instant. Bold’s look immediately turned to his mother whose eyes stared into unknown as blood poured down her mouth and nose. Behind her, he found his sister, lying on ground with arrow sticking out of her heart, painting her white dress red. Her face was emotionless and tears dry. Bold felt frozen in time and space. World felt numb to him. Everything felt so slow and sound of fighting was distant to him. For a moment, he asked himself why are they fighting at all?
Because we need to survive. Right, he remembered as if it was something of no great importance. His look raised towards habitat lost in fire and he stood up, as Said charged in with his warriors, right into the heart of invaders. Bold couldn’t miss that one last gaze Said gave to his wife and daughter, before switching it to Bold as he rode past them. It was a gaze he’ll remember for the rest of his life. The look of the hopeless man who's got nothing to lose. Arrows were flying everywhere, clash of metal was deafening to the ears as much as screams and shouts. Following his father with his yellow eyes, it was not hard to see when one loose arrow took him down from his horse. But one arrow was not enough to kill
Said al Gauti.
On his feet, great saviour of Persian people cut down dozen of invaders with arrow sticking out from his shoulder. He seemed invincible, undestructible. Right until that part when one of the enemies stuck his sword into Said’s ribs from behind, followed by two spears which impaled him from the front. Yet again, he was not done, choking the one who stabbed him from behind to death with his grip of steel while slicing one to pieces with sabre in his left hand. He roared as he destroyed his enemies. Bold walked forward, making step after step, no matter how little. Said, his father was right there. His hero, saviour of Persian nation.
Yellow eyes of Bold teared up.
No.
al Gauti, leader to many, father to Bold fell.
‘’Forward, brothers!’’ Hormuz ordered one last charge to wipe out the enemies. His people fought on, fighting the hardest battle yet. Persians have slain their enemies to the last one and won the night, paying a tremendous price for it. Eventually, survivors gathered around Hormuz, seeing him as the most experienced warrior among them, waiting for his instructions on what to do next. Thousands died and just a bit over a half of those who embarked on this exile survived. Many cheered as the battle was won. Bold didn’t feel victorious, though. He found himself on the battlefield, on his knees next to his father closing his eyes with his fingers, staring into vast nothingness of the
Great Steppe as Sun rose in the east marking new beginnings, whispering to himself ‘’I will kill them all.’’