Chapter 34: Let the city fall
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Chapter 34: Let the city fall
The armies that once gloriously marched from Ctesiphon now returned, battered and scarred, bruised and exhausted. Their banners laying low, with Derafsh Kaviani, the Sassanid Banner, soaked in blood, but carried high in the air, the only banner, together with Farahavar, the symbol of Zoroastrianism. The rest of the banner laid low, as flagbearers struggled to keep them in the air, having their arms go numb. Common folk in Ctesiphon observed the soldiers, who marched behind two men riding on horses, surrounded by a few Aswaran. The army marched in a long line, right inside the city. Some people were rightfully horrified at this sight, while some merely brushed it off. Children observed the soldiers, mainly the magnificent Aswaran with awe and amazement. Boys hoped they'll grow up like them while girls respected and admired them, maybe hoping their future husband will be as amazing as these men. But there was nothing "amazing" about them. About being a soldier. They were the men who escaped the bloodbath, having seen the horrors not many will ever see. What was "amazing" about those ten thousand Persians, who were now rotting away on the battlefield. The only emotion they hoped to receive from other was the recognition. They didn't need respect, they didn't need to be admired. They even didn't need remorse or pity. They wanted their deeds to be recognized, they wanted someone to tell them all of this wasn't in vain and that the battle they fought was for something. That they achieved something. That was something they wanted to know. But will they ever know? n--0VELb1n
Bahman with Andarzaghar were already in the palace, waiting for their Shahanshah to arrive. Although they announced their arrival beforehand, it seemed like their Shah wasn't able to arrive on time. Maybe he overslept. Maybe he had other matters to attend to. Or maybe he was just too lazy to and leisured in his palace gardens. If that was the case, no one would blame him. Gardens in this palace were much bigger and accommodating, than the palace gardens in Istakhr. They sat there, in the big room which served as a place for private discussions, quietly sipping their wine. Bahman was quite calmed and relaxed, while Andarzaghar was anxious and nervous. In his head, he had gone through many scenarios where he would be punished for his incompetence and for the loss he caused. In one scenario, he was stripped of his titles. In other, he was whipped as a punishment and in the last one, he had his head cut down. It was in the middle of May, 633. Andarzaghar would be 43 years old next month. He had two children and a wife. He had a home to return to, titles and wealth. He had properties, connections and friends. He didn't want to die, at least not by the order of his own Shah, to whom he was one of the few loyal from beginning. Bahman noticed his behaviour, and although almost ten years older, he understood his worries.
"Don't worry, Andarzaghar. I don't think our Shahanshah, may he be immortal, is one to punish you so harshly, if he'll even punish you. He'll, at most, strip you of the command over the army."
"Do you think so, Bahman? I hope you are right, because death isn't something I look forward to. And if I were to die, let it be on the battlefield, not by execution."
"Yes, I think so. And if not, I'll stand with you and I'll help you talk your way out of it. But let's hope it won't be necessary."
"Thank you, Bahman. Let us hope."
They continued the small talk for a while, until they heard the knocking on the door. A small figure entered, without waiting for them to respond. It was clear who it is. He entered the room, while the two men stood up and bowed.
"My Shahanshah, may he be immortal."
Yazdegerd smiled on the men, looking very innocent. Only Bahman knew who was hiding behind that fa?ade. Andarzaghar haven't met Yazdegerd yet, so he didn't know what, or rather who to expect. In front of him stood an innocent looking boy, yet Andarzaghar was convinced that isn't all. That his true self is hidden within him. Did anyone truly knew Yazdegerd's true self? Maybe not even Yazdegerd himself knew.
"Generals, welcome back. I was saddened to hear of your loss, but I am glad both of you are alive and well. So, tell me. What happened? Where is the enemy marching now?"
Before Andarzaghar could talk, Bahman interrupted him.
"My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, the enemy used devious and dishonorable tactics to defeat our army. They sent cavalrymen around our flank, under the cover of night and then attacked our rear."
"Most dishonorable, truly. What happened next?"
"The cavalrymen met with my Aswaran. That happened."
"Great. So I can take it they surrounded Andarzaghars army before you merged? Was that why you weren't in command, Bahman?"
"Yes, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."
Andarzaghar became visibly more and more nervous, and so did Bahman. They tried to talk their way out of it, but couldn't just straight up lie.
"I see. Very well then. Where is the enemy headed next?"
"To Hira. But they suffered a lot of casualties, so I'd reckon they're still reinforcing and recovering now."
"Is that so? Alright then. Tell me, general, what is the best course of action in your eyes?"
Yazdegerd stood up and looked out of the window. Andarzaghr could tell this was no mere boy. He was already corrupted with politics, intrigues and warfare. He thought of his own son, when he was Yazdegerd's age. His sweet, innocent face wasn't physically able to show such calm and assertive face. His way of talking was much more child-like than Yazdegerd's and his behaviour was innocent and childish. He pitied the Yazdegerd, not being able to enjoy the childhood as every other children of his status could. Bahman, on the other hand, was surprised that his Shahanshah wants an advice from him.
"My Shahanshah, I think we should let the city fall. We aren't able to defeat the Arabs, not with our army in this state and their army fully reinforced and recovered."
"Yes, you are right Bahman. But I won't let them have it all."
Bahman didn't understand.
"What do you mean, my Shahanshah?"
"Evacuate Hira and let the city fall."
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Chapter 34: Let the city fall
The armies that once gloriously marched from Ctesiphon now returned, battered and scarred, bruised and exhausted. Their banners laying low, with Derafsh Kaviani, the Sassanid Banner, soaked in blood, but carried high in the air, the only banner, together with Farahavar, the symbol of Zoroastrianism. The rest of the banner laid low, as flagbearers struggled to keep them in the air, having their arms go numb. Common folk in Ctesiphon observed the soldiers, who marched behind two men riding on horses, surrounded by a few Aswaran. The army marched in a long line, right inside the city. Some people were rightfully horrified at this sight, while some merely brushed it off. Children observed the soldiers, mainly the magnificent Aswaran with awe and amazement. Boys hoped they'll grow up like them while girls respected and admired them, maybe hoping their future husband will be as amazing as these men. But there was nothing "amazing" about them. About being a soldier. They were the men who escaped the bloodbath, having seen the horrors not many will ever see. What was "amazing" about those ten thousand Persians, who were now rotting away on the battlefield. The only emotion they hoped to receive from other was the recognition. They didn't need respect, they didn't need to be admired. They even didn't need remorse or pity. They wanted their deeds to be recognized, they wanted someone to tell them all of this wasn't in vain and that the battle they fought was for something. That they achieved something. That was something they wanted to know. But will they ever know? n--0VELb1n
Bahman with Andarzaghar were already in the palace, waiting for their Shahanshah to arrive. Although they announced their arrival beforehand, it seemed like their Shah wasn't able to arrive on time. Maybe he overslept. Maybe he had other matters to attend to. Or maybe he was just too lazy to and leisured in his palace gardens. If that was the case, no one would blame him. Gardens in this palace were much bigger and accommodating, than the palace gardens in Istakhr. They sat there, in the big room which served as a place for private discussions, quietly sipping their wine. Bahman was quite calmed and relaxed, while Andarzaghar was anxious and nervous. In his head, he had gone through many scenarios where he would be punished for his incompetence and for the loss he caused. In one scenario, he was stripped of his titles. In other, he was whipped as a punishment and in the last one, he had his head cut down. It was in the middle of May, 633. Andarzaghar would be 43 years old next month. He had two children and a wife. He had a home to return to, titles and wealth. He had properties, connections and friends. He didn't want to die, at least not by the order of his own Shah, to whom he was one of the few loyal from beginning. Bahman noticed his behaviour, and although almost ten years older, he understood his worries.
"Don't worry, Andarzaghar. I don't think our Shahanshah, may he be immortal, is one to punish you so harshly, if he'll even punish you. He'll, at most, strip you of the command over the army."
"Do you think so, Bahman? I hope you are right, because death isn't something I look forward to. And if I were to die, let it be on the battlefield, not by execution."
"Yes, I think so. And if not, I'll stand with you and I'll help you talk your way out of it. But let's hope it won't be necessary."
"Thank you, Bahman. Let us hope."
They continued the small talk for a while, until they heard the knocking on the door. A small figure entered, without waiting for them to respond. It was clear who it is. He entered the room, while the two men stood up and bowed.
"My Shahanshah, may he be immortal."
Yazdegerd smiled on the men, looking very innocent. Only Bahman knew who was hiding behind that fa?ade. Andarzaghar haven't met Yazdegerd yet, so he didn't know what, or rather who to expect. In front of him stood an innocent looking boy, yet Andarzaghar was convinced that isn't all. That his true self is hidden within him. Did anyone truly knew Yazdegerd's true self? Maybe not even Yazdegerd himself knew.
"Generals, welcome back. I was saddened to hear of your loss, but I am glad both of you are alive and well. So, tell me. What happened? Where is the enemy marching now?"
Before Andarzaghar could talk, Bahman interrupted him.
"My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, the enemy used devious and dishonorable tactics to defeat our army. They sent cavalrymen around our flank, under the cover of night and then attacked our rear."
"Most dishonorable, truly. What happened next?"
"The cavalrymen met with my Aswaran. That happened."
"Great. So I can take it they surrounded Andarzaghars army before you merged? Was that why you weren't in command, Bahman?"
"Yes, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."
Andarzaghar became visibly more and more nervous, and so did Bahman. They tried to talk their way out of it, but couldn't just straight up lie.
"I see. Very well then. Where is the enemy headed next?"
"To Hira. But they suffered a lot of casualties, so I'd reckon they're still reinforcing and recovering now."
"Is that so? Alright then. Tell me, general, what is the best course of action in your eyes?"
Yazdegerd stood up and looked out of the window. Andarzaghr could tell this was no mere boy. He was already corrupted with politics, intrigues and warfare. He thought of his own son, when he was Yazdegerd's age. His sweet, innocent face wasn't physically able to show such calm and assertive face. His way of talking was much more child-like than Yazdegerd's and his behaviour was innocent and childish. He pitied the Yazdegerd, not being able to enjoy the childhood as every other children of his status could. Bahman, on the other hand, was surprised that his Shahanshah wants an advice from him.
"My Shahanshah, I think we should let the city fall. We aren't able to defeat the Arabs, not with our army in this state and their army fully reinforced and recovered."
"Yes, you are right Bahman. But I won't let them have it all."
Bahman didn't understand.
"What do you mean, my Shahanshah?"
"Evacuate Hira and let the city fall."
Chapter 34: Let the city fall The armies that once gloriously marched from Ctesiphon now returned, battered and scarred, bruised and exhausted. Their banners laying low, with Derafsh Kaviani, the Sassanid Banner, soaked in blood, but carried high in the air, the only banner, together with Farahavar, the symbol of Zoroastrianism. The rest of the banner laid low, as flagbearers struggled to keep them in the air, having their arms go numb. Common folk in Ctesiphon observed the soldiers, who marched behind two men riding on horses, surrounded by a few Aswaran. The army marched in a long line, right inside the city. Some people were rightfully horrified at this sight, while some merely brushed it off. Children observed the soldiers, mainly the magnificent Aswaran with awe and amazement. Boys hoped they'll grow up like them while girls respected and admired them, maybe hoping their future husband will be as amazing as these men. But there was nothing "amazing" about them. About being a soldier. They were the men who escaped the bloodbath, having seen the horrors not many will ever see. What was "amazing" about those ten thousand Persians, who were now rotting away on the battlefield. The only emotion they hoped to receive from other was the recognition. They didn't need respect, they didn't need to be admired. They even didn't need remorse or pity. They wanted their deeds to be recognized, they wanted someone to tell them all of this wasn't in vain and that the battle they fought was for something. That they achieved something. That was something they wanted to know. But will they ever know? n--0VELb1nBahman with Andarzaghar were already in the palace, waiting for their Shahanshah to arrive. Although they announced their arrival beforehand, it seemed like their Shah wasn't able to arrive on time. Maybe he overslept. Maybe he had other matters to attend to. Or maybe he was just too lazy to and leisured in his palace gardens. If that was the case, no one would blame him. Gardens in this palace were much bigger and accommodating, than the palace gardens in Istakhr. They sat there, in the big room which served as a place for private discussions, quietly sipping their wine. Bahman was quite calmed and relaxed, while Andarzaghar was anxious and nervous. In his head, he had gone through many scenarios where he would be punished for his incompetence and for the loss he caused. In one scenario, he was stripped of his titles. In other, he was whipped as a punishment and in the last one, he had his head cut down. It was in the middle of May, 633. Andarzaghar would be 43 years old next month. He had two children and a wife. He had a home to return to, titles and wealth. He had properties, connections and friends. He didn't want to die, at least not by the order of his own Shah, to whom he was one of the few loyal from beginning. Bahman noticed his behaviour, and although almost ten years older, he understood his worries. "Don't worry, Andarzaghar. I don't think our Shahanshah, may he be immortal, is one to punish you so harshly, if he'll even punish you. He'll, at most, strip you of the command over the army." "Do you think so, Bahman? I hope you are right, because death isn't something I look forward to. And if I were to die, let it be on the battlefield, not by execution." "Yes, I think so. And if not, I'll stand with you and I'll help you talk your way out of it. But let's hope it won't be necessary." "Thank you, Bahman. Let us hope." They continued the small talk for a while, until they heard the knocking on the door. A small figure entered, without waiting for them to respond. It was clear who it is. He entered the room, while the two men stood up and bowed. "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal." Yazdegerd smiled on the men, looking very innocent. Only Bahman knew who was hiding behind that fa?ade. Andarzaghar haven't met Yazdegerd yet, so he didn't know what, or rather who to expect. In front of him stood an innocent looking boy, yet Andarzaghar was convinced that isn't all. That his true self is hidden within him. Did anyone truly knew Yazdegerd's true self? Maybe not even Yazdegerd himself knew. "Generals, welcome back. I was saddened to hear of your loss, but I am glad both of you are alive and well. So, tell me. What happened? Where is the enemy marching now?" Before Andarzaghar could talk, Bahman interrupted him. "My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, the enemy used devious and dishonorable tactics to defeat our army. They sent cavalrymen around our flank, under the cover of night and then attacked our rear." "Most dishonorable, truly. What happened next?" "The cavalrymen met with my Aswaran. That happened." "Great. So I can take it they surrounded Andarzaghars army before you merged? Was that why you weren't in command, Bahman?" "Yes, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal." Andarzaghar became visibly more and more nervous, and so did Bahman. They tried to talk their way out of it, but couldn't just straight up lie. "I see. Very well then. Where is the enemy headed next?" "To Hira. But they suffered a lot of casualties, so I'd reckon they're still reinforcing and recovering now." "Is that so? Alright then. Tell me, general, what is the best course of action in your eyes?" Yazdegerd stood up and looked out of the window. Andarzaghr could tell this was no mere boy. He was already corrupted with politics, intrigues and warfare. He thought of his own son, when he was Yazdegerd's age. His sweet, innocent face wasn't physically able to show such calm and assertive face. His way of talking was much more child-like than Yazdegerd's and his behaviour was innocent and childish. He pitied the Yazdegerd, not being able to enjoy the childhood as every other children of his status could. Bahman, on the other hand, was surprised that his Shahanshah wants an advice from him. "My Shahanshah, I think we should let the city fall. We aren't able to defeat the Arabs, not with our army in this state and their army fully reinforced and recovered." "Yes, you are right Bahman. But I won't let them have it all." Bahman didn't understand. "What do you mean, my Shahanshah?" "Evacuate Hira and let the city fall."
