Zhenjin Arrives at Quorasan

  The moment Khazan Zhenjin and his vassals arrived at Quorasan, the military nature of Hulagu's court was oppressive. Most of Persia lay in ruin. The palace itself was built upon the ruins of Persepolis, and while Hulagu had attempted a remodel, the original stone architecture could not be matched. The magnificence of the ancient stonework only exaggerated the inferiority of the new, hastily placed slabs—ugly, functional masonry that spoke of haste and martial priority. The entire city was a military state; platoons marched in rigid formation, and the palace was filled with monks, armed and ready for battle.

  Upon arrival, the uncles of Rajiv began their complaints anew, their fear palpable.

  "We have entered a war zone! Zhenjin is leading us to death," they grumbled. "We are old. Does he expect us to bear arms? My wife is terrified! We should never have left Xanadu!"

  "You were the one who wanted to come," Mahintha reminded them. "I thought we were going to Shangri-La. This is not what we bargained for."

  The Emperor's Burden

  Zhenjin's final stop was at Hulagu's Palace. Quorasan, built on the ruins of Persepolis, at least boasted running water. Further south, the Desert Order (the DO) and many other factions were at constant war with Hulagu.

  Hulagu's wife, Doquz, was a Messiahnist, and in an effort to please her, Hulagu persecuted the people of Baghdad. He searched relentlessly for the Prophet, but the Prophet had retreated to the desert, organizing the DO into a guerrilla force. The DO fought only at night, possessing exceptional night vision. It was a war Hulagu could not win.

  A tired Hulagu greeted his nephew. "Welcome! Welcome, Crown Prince Zhenjin Khagan!"

  "Hail Emperor Hulagu, conqueror of Baghdad! May I present my traveling companions?"

  The vassals were presented one by one, as though these introductions had not been made a month ago at Kharakhorin. Zhenjin then presented his gifts: barrels of wine and beer, tallow wax, lard, crates of dried fruits, pickles, preserved meats, sacks of grain, bales of fresh hay, rope, and pearls from the Tawalesi.

  "Welcome to Persia. We will break fast with our soldiers. Some of them will depart this evening for Baghdad."

  At the dining hall, Zhenjin and Hulagu were seated together. "How goes the war, Uncle?" Zhenjin asked.

  "Same as always," Hulagu sighed.

  "You conquered Baghdad."

  "Yes, they fell like leaves in autumn. They were dying before we got there. Pestilence, disease, and drought had brought them to their knees." Hulagu sounded bored, not boastful.

  "So we will move farther west, Amca Dayi?" Zhenjin used the affectionate term.

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  "No, the enemy comes to us beyond Baghdad. I have lost too many men in the desert to venture farther. It is a stalemate. I have asked for reinforcements, but Ariq won't send any."

  "He is busy administering the steppes."

  "Hahahaha! The steppes need administration? At least Khublai sends me supplies, but no men."

  "The Song-Xinese are not fighting men, Uncle," Zhenjin noted. "They are farmers. Without them, we can't supply the Khanate with grain. They are fishermen, miners, and artisans. M?ngke's people are miners; you would have no armory if he sent you his men."

  "M?ngke has no army. The cold north is a desolate place. Though I admit they are capable fighting men... And Ariq? Leader of the Golden Horde? All he does is complain and drink."

  "But he administers the steppes," Zhenjin repeated.

  "The Grand Royal Administrator of the steppes! No one need administer those steppes. The grasses grow, the horses breed in the south, sheltered by the tribes as they have done since ancient times. Ariq is useless! Calls himself Emperor now, I hear."

  "Yes, Uncle."

  "And what do you call him? That useless, spoiled stable boy! He is no warrior. He is a Khan, not a King... he is a confused boy. Let's open those barrels of plum wine your father sent."

  "Do you receive your supply of grain, Uncle?" Zhenjin asked, changing topics.

  "Yes. That stupid king of the stables takes a toll on my supplies when the caravans pass through his part of the steppes. I'd have to go on a wide, circuitous route to avoid him."

  "I shall tell my father."

  "Little help that will do. He has his own war. He is planning to invade Annam."

  "With the help of the Goryeons," Zhenjin said, grimacing.

  "It's an ambitious plan. You don't like it?"

  "Annam can give us nothing, Uncle. Not grain, not horses, not boats. They are not worth conquering," Zhenjin's voice was firm.

  "Baghdad wasn't worth conquering. They have nothing but addicts, librarians, dancers, and fortune tellers."

  "But the location of Baghdad is strategic," Zhenjin argued.

  "Maybe. My wife fled from Jerusalem. She's a Messiahnist, you know, and very beautiful."

  "I know, Uncle. I saw her at Kharakhorin. And you, Uncle, are you now Messiahnist?"

  "It is very interesting. Sometimes. Khan just conquers, but a quarter of a mile from the steppes, and all Kharaks change. We desire to conquer and claim. We should have all stayed in the Barren Hills." Hulagu sounded genuinely mournful.

  "If Genghis stayed home, he'd never have become The Great Khan. And you, Uncle, what do you desire?"

  "I desire to destroy them. I defy their rule. It is my destiny. I am the lynchpin of the world. I am God's sword."

  "Is there no other solution? As a leader, you always have a choice," Zhenjin challenged.

  "No man walks away from what he knows how to do. War is what I know. If I don't fight this war, what will I do? Go live in Kharakhorin? Drink with that detestable Ariq? And Doquz—they judge her unfairly. They call her an outsider, but she is a Kerait Princess, a Khan of the Eastern Church of Prester John. She wouldn’t marry me while I was married to another. I threatened to drown my five wives for her, but her gentle heart could not take it. We married. I still have them, but if they misbehave, I’ll drown them in the Tigris. I’m a jealous man."

  After dinner Hulagu showed them telescopes. Loot from Baghdad.

  ”I have long wanted to build an observatory” pinned Zhenjin

  “Yes The stars reveal much. But these are the last telescopes from the observatory. There are no more”.

  The Vassal Heirs, Dusshela and Sumita took turns peering through the telescope and marveling at the night sky.

  “I have seen my death through this telescope. I have seen winged demons in the sky. My wife fears that I will not go to heaven. She labours to erase my sin. I have seen thousands of deaths and I know that I will win this war for god.”

  Zhenjin left his uncle's presence that night convinced that Hulagu's war against the creeping invasion of the grassland was necessary. More than ever, he was certain the war with Annam was unnecessary. But he was also convinced that Hulagu was becoming mad. War takes a toll on us all.