Save the Last Bullet for God (30 page)

Cagatay’s distant personality and incessant
talk always annoyed me. My father clearly had something in mind by
sending him, but I gave it little thought. I already knew that I
wasn’t the crown prince, but Cagatay wasn’t either. This often
caused Cagatay to lose his temper; his behavior was a reflection of
his personality.

Without interfering with each other, we
besieged the city systematically. Whoever approached the city’s
wall was hit by a rain of arrows. Those who managed to approach the
trench were roasted by projectiles of hot oil and fire. It was
almost impossible to send cavalry close to the gate. Cagatay
plundered, set fire to, and destroyed whatever got in his way and
added tens of thousands of slaves to his spoils.

In the first light of morning, we dragged
thousands of slaves to the fortress and put those who tried to
return to the sword. Others were killed by arrows, fire, and
stones. Their corpses began to fill the trenches. The slaughter
lasted for days. The trenches in front of the fortress became
invisible, and the soldiers who guarded the walls ran out of
patience. The soil now was full of blood and the dead bodies of
their own people.

Day and night, crossbows pelted the walls of
the fortress. When we ran out of stones, we used huge soaked
logs—soaking the logs made them heavier and deadlier. We used the
bodies of the injured and resisting soldiers as ammunition for
crossbows. Seeing the flailing bodies of their comrades raining
down on them only intensified the hopelessness of those who
remained inside the fortress. The stone walls turned red from the
blood of those flung against them and the grisly barrage collapsed
the nerve of those under siege.

As holes opened in the walls, damaged and
weakened after months of pounding, our soldiers, who were thirsty
for war, began to spill into the fortress. But the war and struggle
inside were the same as outside. Each stone house was its own
fortress, and each person was a resisting soldier. Sometimes, it
took days to pass through one street and on to the next one. The
people who hid in their houses and caves would attack us at every
opportunity. It became normal to destroy the walls and even the
submerged parts of the city. We set houses on fire and killed those
who tried to escape.

We cut and burned our way through a
community of hundreds of thousands of desperate people. They gave
away their souls, and we gave away our time. As the enemy soldiers
ran away from their destroyed headquarters, scattered to the houses
and continued to fight, we also began to lose people. When the
bridge we had captured in the city was attacked, we suddenly lost
three thousand soldiers. But the city still could not stand against
our sprawling, bloodthirsty army.

Finally, the city was defeated. The army’s
death toll surpassed the number still living, and the survivors
commenced plundering. The people were chased away without being
allowed to take anything with them. Those who were slow, died by
the swords of those soldiers not yet tired of killing. From
therethe plundering took days due to the wreckage and the corpse
barricades in the streets.

Now that the city had fallen, I no longer
had to tolerate Cagatay. I wanted to go further west, away from
this slaughterhouse, so I quickly gathered one division and sent a
message to my father at headquarters. My soldiers and I then set
off for the southeast and did not look back.

Khorasan

During the months of the siege, we missed
our usual movement. But now the soil once again fell from our feet
as we traveled. During the long trip, messengers brought us
periodic war reports. My father’s forces had successfully overtaken
Bukhara. Only twenty to thirty thousand soldiers were put to the
sword, and the city was plundered without a large massacre. From
Samarkand, we had news that the city’s army of seventy thousand
fell into carelessness by attempting to defend their city in the
open air. It was a quick battle that ended in complete destruction
in only a few hours. When the city finally fell, only 150 thousand
of a population of 800 thousand had died.

As we waited for more messengers, we
received unexpected news from Tokucar, who had been set to plunder
Khorasan around Nishapur. My sister was urgently calling me to meet
her. After a journey of only a few days, I met my sister. Her eyes
were swollen from crying and her cheeks were hollow. Her beloved
husband was near death. An arrow had penetrated his armor and he
was now dying in agony.

“Brother,” she said. “I have never asked you
for anything,” she said in a voice hoarse from mourning, “but I ask
you now for one thing…”

“Revenge,” she said, now in a stronger
voice. “A revenge that will never be seen again in history, one
that will be burned into the hearts of our people. Only this can
decrease the pain I feel.”

“I promise,” I whispered to her. “Their
punishment will be unique, and everyone will hear of it. But have
pity on the child in your belly. Pull yourself together and
survive.” I hugged Tokucar and calmed my sister.

Her tears dried on her face. She blinked and
nodded quietly.

Tuluy accepted the call of his sister as
well. With the permission of my father, he quit his post, set off
in our direction with two divisions of soldiers and gathered twenty
thousand raiders and bandits along the way. Leaving Tokucar safe in
the camp around Nishapur, I headed to the east to welcome Tuluy. We
met near the city of Merv and immediately laid siege to it.

I always considered myself quick tempered,
but my brother redefined the word “rage.” We didn’t send a
messenger to the city. The black tent was pitched in front of the
gate immediately, and we waited only a few days until all our
forces had arrived and settled.

On the third day, the city opened its gates
for a small attack, and the enemy soldiers were massacred on the
spot. Before the gate was closed and locked, the pitiful attack was
over. After that, we unleashed a storm. We attacked the walls of
the fortress without a break and weakened them with every means
available. When we entered the city, we commenced a massacre, the
likes of which had never been seen in history. The city streets
became a blur of swords, human flesh, bone, and blood.

We killed without rest. Our cold iron turned
warm with human flesh and bone, then grew hot from the fires and
roasted blood. Flying bone fragments cut into our skin and our Army
became a red army as we were soaked in the blood of our enemy.
Tuluy and I killed two or three men with a single blow and tripped
over the corpses that lay beneath us.

When the massacre was over, only a few
children were taken as prisoners. It took thirteen days and nights
to count all the victims. Each soldier in our army had killed three
to four thousand people. We realized that killing that many people
took less time than counting the bodies.

Supporting forces arrived soon after and we
continued north on our journey of revenge.

I didn’t want to be slowed down by the
children, so I took a few guards with me and approached a Turkish
nomad that was attempting to flee.

“I’ve seen a lot of death,” I told him, “but
I do not wish to fight now. You do not want this, either.”

The nomad took me to his prince, and I
stayed in the nomad camp as a guest. I gave a small bag of gold to
the eldest of the captured children and entrusted them to the
prince.

“We are in a long war, and we have a long
way ahead of us,” I explained. “We have taken an oath of revenge
but these children survived their city’s massacre and they deserve
to live,” I said.

The prince of the nomads, a man who had the
nose of an eagle, nodded.

“Because of what I have entrusted to you,” I
continued, “I give you my leave for one night. I swear, though,
when the sun rises, we will advance again.”

After a few days of travel, we rejoined my
sister at the camp near Nishapur. Her health had improved, and her
cheeks were less hollow. Along with Tuluy, we spent the night
talking, but most of our words were sorrowful.

The news of our revenge in Merv had already
reached Nishapur, and the city sent messengers with offers of
surrender. But our thirst for revenge would not be sated. When the
city fell, every living being was taken out of the city and
beheaded. As my father had commanded, no stone was left unturned,
and no head was left on its shoulders.

Two giant hills higher than the walls of the
city were erected. One was made of the heads of men, the other of
the heads of women and children. No one in the city was left alive,
not even the cats and dogs.

The city of Herat was the last stop on our
revenge campaign, but, it was time for me to depart and join the
campaign in the West. So, leaving my siblings to their revenge, I
said goodbye to Tuluy, and set off to join Cebe and Sobutay.

The Far West

While our entire army stayed behind to
plunder the land of Harzem and the Indus valley, Cebe and Sobutay
had set off for the west in pursuit of the Shah and had crossed
beyond the Caspian Sea. The shah took refuge on an island, but soon
the news of his death arrived. When I reached the armies of Cebe
and Sobutay, the war had already ended.

The four divisions of soldiers who had
chased the runaway shah for seven months had suffered almost no
losses. The shah’s treasure caravan had been caught, and more
spoils than expected had been captured. It was a victory, but it
had been won without battles, and our soldiers and commanders
disliked the idea of going back without fighting. They were
surrounded by enemies everywhere. They had even crossed beyond the
western sea of Genghis Khan.

When I got to the camp with a few guards, I
was welcomed with enthusiasm. Everyone wanted to hear news of the
revenge campaign, the battles we won, and the stories of the cities
we plundered. Cebe was now middle-aged and a superior commander,
and Sobutay was about to leave his youth behind. I was the only one
from the family Khan who could lead them.

The weeklong festivities were filled with
koumiss, conversation, and nights with prisoner girls. In no time,
my fatigue and tension were gone.

As we gathered together and began to talk
about war, we discussed the conditions of the soldiers and the
numbers of horses, prisoners, and tribal warriors that had joined
us during the campaign. Cebe explained what no one wanted to hear:
we would soon cross beyond the Caspian sea, reach the main army
from the north, and the war would be over.

As Cebe spoke, I said nothing. I only
listened and waited. Finally, the other commanders were sent away,
and, when we were alone, I spoke to my brothers.

“You have been on the frontier of the
greatest campaign of all time, and you had great results. You
should be rewarded, right?” I asked.

My brother-generals smiled sadly.

“Cebe, you’ve been with me since I was born.
Sobutay, you are probably my only true friend. As my friend, tell
me honestly, what do you want?”

In the silence, their eyes shined with
hope.

“My friends, if you follow me, I will give
you the greatest wish of a soldier, a chance to fight,” I said,
trying to enjoy the moment.

“We will only do what we enjoy, without
capturing spoils, lands, or political goals,” I continued. “We
won’t even pursue revenge. We will only fight who we want, and we
will fight for ourselves. It will be a unique campaign. No one will
ever dare do the same.”

Sobutay’s beaming smile was the only answer
I needed.

In the morning, willing soldiers and
commanders, rested and enthusiastic, set out with us on our unique
campaign. We were on our way west, to do what we wanted, and create
a hurricane of destruction.

Our campaign was fearless and bold. We
incessantly attacked vastly superior armies. We fought two
different enemies simultaneously. We conquered the city of Tabriz
and then gave it back to its army in exchange for a huge tribute.
We returned to cities we conquered and massacred survivors and
runaways. The shockwave of fear we created spread far and wide.
Everyone feared that we would target the region’s largest city,
Baghdad, but as I was tired of the heat, we headed north
instead.

From prisoners and caravans, we learned that
we were entering the land of Georgia. The lands extending from the
Black Sea to the Caspian belonged to them. They had a strong
regular army and powerful weapons and were rumored to be cruel.

We headed directly toward their capital,
Tbilisi where the armored Georgian troops welcomed us in the open
air. Like so many before, their numbers vastly exceeded ours. We
attacked the middle of the formation like an arrow and, while
withdrawing, surrounded the enemies who gave chase, then destroyed
them in the middle. It was a war tactic the Georgians had never
seen before, but no one would be left on the battlefield to tell
about it.

Without delay, we headed towards Azerbaijan
and set fire to their city of Maragheh, killing all those who
dwelled inside. We effectively erased them from the map.

One day, as we were plundering a small
village, a poor, elderly man appeared at my feet in the village
hall. He crawled, cried, and screamed. Tears mixed with his saliva,
and I couldn’t understand him. When his hand suddenly grabbed my
foot, I drew my sword with a quick movement and cut off his arm. I
then stepped on his bleeding wound with my full weight so that
blood loss wouldn’t overtake him before I satisfied my
curiosity.

I called over a translator, who told me the
old man’s words: “You came here, plundered our house and our land.
You killed everyone. You owe us blood. You must kill those in the
Alamut Fortress who have kidnapped my son. You must save my
son.”