Young Ammar was the son of a legendary commander who had served in Sultan Ayzar's army years ago and died in a siege battle during the wars with the Rhodok Kingdom.
Ammar was in her twenties. He was tall and had a very strong appearance. The determined expression in his gaze gave him a striking handsomeness, and his virtues proved that he was the son of a great leader.
His honesty was never in doubt. When he was told about his ability to use a sword with his courage, it would be incredible for the audience. In fact, sometimes there were young people who came to visit him from far away just to see this, and Ammar would entertain these guests with a small tournament in the village square.
First of all, Ammar would start with a single opponent. Then there would be two, and three, four… In the end, they would accept defeat and drop their swords. After the consolation meal, they would go back to the villages they came from to tell what they saw. Ammar's skill with the sword came entirely from within. He had discovered this feature at the beginning of his adolescence. So no one had ever taught him that.
Ammar was the only child in the household. His mother had died so early that he had no memory of her at the moment. He lost his father when he was seven or eight years old. Little Ammar had no other relatives. She was raised in the village by a benevolent old man who had never had children and had lost his wife to illness.
He raised Ammar with great interest, putting him in the place of his own child. Affan was a master of his craft, a humble farmer and taught Ammar very well. Since he could not work in the fields due to the weakness of old age, all the work was left to his adopted son.
The village of Ayn Asuadi, where they lived, was located in a small area in the region of large sand dunes that formed the western border of Sarranid. This part of the country has been under threat and risk for many years due to its proximity to the Rhodok Kingdom.
The main source of income of Ayn Asuadi Village is date palm groves. Its people were known to be hardworking like bees...
March 23, 1257, Village of Ayn Asuadi
It was a very hot Spring day today. I had been working for hours in a small wheat field just by the south entrance of my village. Now that I was overwhelmed by the scorching heat of the sun, I decided to lie down and rest in the shade of an old palm tree at the edge of our field.
While I was watching the deep blue sky, I started to feel the tiredness of working nonstop since morning in every inch of my body. I've also been sleep deprived for the past few days. I straightened slightly and glanced over the field.
I had very little work left; but meanwhile my eyelids were getting heavy. With the intention of sleeping and resting for a few hours, I lay down again and closed my eyes, but involuntarily I fell into the arms of a deep sleep...
While sleeping on my back, I suddenly woke up. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the darkening sky. I was watching the leaves swaying with the wind on the tree next to me with squinted eyes. I noticed the cooling air and the fact that I slept more than necessary. My mouth was dry. Then I stood up and reached for the broken-mouthed jug beside the tree.
There was no water left in it. With the empty jug in my hand, I got up and started walking towards the well outside the village. I was only a short distance away from reaching the water when I noticed a black horse drinking from the trough.
I paused where I was, so as not to frighten him and prevent him from fulfilling his need. But after a short while, looking more carefully, I realized that the horse was not wild, and I approached it with slow steps. There was a situation that I found strange; because although he had a saddle, his owner was not around, and besides, no one in the village had a horse. We usually rode camels.
As I got closer to it, I noticed that there were blood stains on it. I got out and looked around. When I couldn't see anyone, I started running in the direction it came from, following the horseshoe tracks left by the animal on the road; After a while I came across a man lying motionless in the middle of the desert.
This man, whom I did not know, was scarcely clear from his tattered clothing that he was a Sarranid frontier. One of them was a crossbow arrow and the other two were badly injured by being shot with arrows shot from a regular bow and was unconscious; but he was still breathing...
The ruler of Sarranid before Hakim was Sultan Ayzar. He had a slave named Arwa whom he loved like a daughter. Of course, this was a big country and the relationship between Ayzar and Arwa was interpreted differently by many people. It was thought that Sultan Ayzar saw Arwa as a wife rather than a daughter. Although the first of these two rumors was favored, it was a known fact that Ayzar really loved Arwa for whatever reason.
In time Arwa had earned the respect of Sultan Ayzar so much that Ayzar had chosen him as his heir to rule the sultanate. After Ayzar's death, the sun to dethrone the Gospel Emirs and marry General Baybak to die. Arwa was loved and respected by the people. In the death case of Ayzar, which was mentioned in his will before he died.
For these reasons, he could ascend to the throne without the approval of the Emirs. However, it was indirectly stated to him that if he did not accept this condition, he would face a civil war. While Arwa took care of Sarranid's diplomatic management, Baybak was the marshal of the armies. Shortly after their marriage, Arwa was given the name "Mother of the Country" and Baybak was called "Commander of the Armies" by the people. However, in the tenth year of their marriage, Baybak was martyred in a field battle with an army led by Janakir Khan from the Kergit Khanate.
Baybak's nephew Hakim, on the other hand, took this opportunity to stage a coup and proclaimed himself Sultan. Sultan Hakim said that Arwa was a slave who manipulated Ayzar and Baybak with her beauty. He argued that the throne would not be ruled by the power of a woman alone, and he claimed that by putting himself in power, he prevented oppression and civil war. Also, Hakim went further and said that Arwa was a sorcerer and controlled the men around him by casting spells.
Even though the judge took the throne without great effort, he was never as famous as Ayzar or Arwa. The majority of the people were very uncomfortable with his administration. The only difference he could make in his reign; He was a ruler who was more respected by the Emirs compared to other periods. Everyone knew what he owed his success to. Especially the Sarranid people, whom they impoverished, were the most conscious of this. Among the things Sultan Hakim does best; There were concessions on land to Emirs whom he constantly corrupted, and expensive banquets he held.
Declaration of War:
Emir Lakhem, the marshal of the sultanate, was trying to gather the army in a hurry, with the order he received from Sultan Hakim. According to the news from a messenger that day, the Khergit Khanate declared war on the Sarranid Sultanate. The conflict between the two kingdoms started when the Kergit caravans were cut off on the roads by the Sarranid Emirs and forced to take tribute.
The army gathered under the leadership of a Khergit merchant, who could no longer bear this situation and started a rebellion, plundered the village of Dhibbain, which was a part of Sarranid. When this turmoil reached Sancar Han's ears, things got worse. When it was learned that Sultan Hakim knew about this tribute from the very beginning and turned a blind eye to it, the war broke out. On the other hand, the Sarranid had been plagued by the Rhodok Kingdom for a long time.
After the preparations were completed, the armies under the command of Emir Lakhem first set out for the first looted area, Dhibbain, to prevent the siege of Jameyyed Fortress and then to suppress the rebellion of the Khergitite merchants and capture the gang leaders. The Sarranid armies had had a major engagement a few days earlier near Weyyah Fortress, which had been besieged by the Rhodoks. The siege had been broken, but by this both Marshal Lakhem and the other soldiers and Emirs were exhausted.
Battle Plan:
The huge army of nearly six hundred people led by Sarranid Marshal Emir Lakhem advanced non-stop until morning that night. They had to travel for about one more day to reach the looted and besieged areas. So Emir Lakhem stopped his army at a small oasis on the road to rest for a while and ordered a rest. According to the news already received, the army of the Khergit Khanate, besieging the Jameyyed fortress, was dispersed in an instant. It was as if they had given up, or they might have just learned that Emir Lakhem was on the way.
While the soldiers were resting, he and his right-hand man, Emir Quryas, and other Emirs were discussing plans for the conflict with the Khergit Khanate. Lakhem, who thought of identifying the hiding places of the rebellious Khergit merchants and making a night raid, was telling Quryas and the others how to do it. Sultan Hakim wanted the mysterious leader of the Kergit merchants to be hanged after he was brought alive in front of the people in Shariz. According to Hakim, he thought that this would discourage others who were plotting rebellion among his own people or among other immigrants.
This, on the other hand, made Lakhem's work difficult. Lakhem loved to secure his business and therefore wanted to put to the sword anyone who stood in his way. Emir Quryas agreed with him. This would settle the matter radically and quickly from Lakhem's point of view. In fact, Emir Lakhem had thought of this whole plan. Emir Quryas, on the other hand, with his usual flattering demeanor, was trying to gain his satisfaction by praising the ideas he heard from Lakhem. Other Emirs were pretending to listen to Emir Lakhem without question. After a while, Lakhem, tired of his right arm that confirmed his every word and the Emirs who were staring blankly at him, said, “I'm going to get some sleep now. Leave me alone." he ended the meeting.
Marshal Emir Lakhem:
Sultan Hakim had no children. That's why Judge Sarranid felt the need to designate an heir after taking the throne. Because when he took the throne, his age was already quite advanced. Among the Sarranid Emirs, he loved only the young Lakhem as his own son. At that time, only twenty years old, Lakhem, whose mustache had just begun to sweat, was favored by Hakim, and in the following years he was adopted and heir to the Sarranid throne.
Lakhem did not have a family, only one sister is known. Emir Lakhem was actually the son of a former Emir who lived in the early days of Sultan Ayzar's accession to the throne. His mother had died while giving birth to him. His father had died in the battle of Halmar five years ago. Sultan Hakim, who now accepted that he would not have children, adopted Lakhem, who was an orphan, in order to transfer his throne and raise him as his own son when he died in the future.
After Emir Lakhem's rigorous training on the battlefields and at the palace for several years, he was elected Marshal of the army by the sole vote of Sultan Hakim. Emir Lakhem, now in his early thirties, was a handsome man with dark skin, short black hair and a drooping mustache. He also had a powerful position in the country and a large fortune.
Unfortunately, despite the training he had received by his stepfather, Sultan Hakim, he was an intelligent man, although his warrior and command was not very bright among the other Emirs, and he dreamed of sitting on the throne of Sarranid in the future. Although, among the Emirs, he had begun to lose his former reputation in Sultan Hakim. All this was just the beginning of the end...
I raced through the south gate of the massive walled capital city of Shariz on the black horse I encountered. I was approaching the palace. When I reached the entrance gate of the palace, I got off my horse and approached one of the guards at the gate, and with a hasty expression, I told him that I had come to see Sultan Hakim, and that I had brought him very important news from the village of Ayn Asuadi. The Kingdom of Rhodok and the Khergit Khanate, which were border neighbors with Sarranid, signed a peace treaty between them and then formed an alliance and started attacking the Sarranid Sultanate at the same time.
They continued their march towards the heart of the Sarranid, looting the easiest target villages and slaughtering the people. That wounded soldier I found on the roadside was on duty in one of the border patrols that was attacked, and was shot while fleeing the Rhodok and Khergitte soldiers who were attacking them. When the injured watchman came to his senses and explained the situation to me, I told the village elders. The people of the village sent me as a messenger to immediately report this news to Sultan Hakim. Because apart from me, there was not a single volunteer among the young people in the village. Of course, when my stepfather Affan heard about this, he was vehemently opposed. He was afraid that something would happen to me. However, after a bit of tinkering, I convinced him.
Receiving the news I brought, Sultan Hakim made a face with a helpless expression. Because a significant part of his army had gone to the northwest to suppress the siege and plunder. He ordered me to wait and immediately convened the city council. After a while, I was called into the meeting room. I entered the meeting room with timid steps, and while I respectfully greeted the members of the council and Sultan Hakim, I understood from the pessimistic gaze of the elders in front of me that something was wrong.
“You command me, my sultan,” I said, taking a few steps towards Sultan Hakim.
After the judge got up by pushing his throne, he approached me with a thoughtful look and touched my shoulder in a friendly manner and said, "Your name is Ammar, isn't it?" asked.
"Yes my sultan"
“I remember your father. He was one of the best army commanders in all of Calradia. Unfortunately, Ayzar's army wasted."
“Thank you, my sultan,” I said.
“I have heard your name a lot. All villages and cities are talking about it. His martial skill is said to be unmatched. I wouldn't expect any less from the son of such a father."
“You are very kind, my sultan.”
The judge smiled contentedly for a moment, and then said, “Anyway…” and returned to the thoughtful state he had just had before.
“Let's get to the real issue. Now I want you to listen carefully to what I have to say…”
“I am listening to you, my sultan.”
“Everything keeps piling up. The majority of our main army is engaged in suppressing the attacks on our lands by members of the Khergit merchant guild under my son Emir Lakhem. The Rhodoks, on the other hand, have had their eyes on our lands for a long time, and on the other hand, we only have enough soldiers left to truly ensure the security of the capital, Shariz. No place outside of the borders of this city is safe anymore. My point is that Ammar should defend himself until our main army is finished, as the village of Ayn Asuadi cannot be more important than the safety of the Capital Shariz and myself. Long story short, I want you to distract the Khergits and Rhodoks as much as you can and buy us some time, understood?”
I continued to listen in silence with an uncomfortable and confused expression. Sultan Hakim must have noticed this as well, for he waited a short while to see if I would object. He then continued:
“If you can do what I say, it will be very good for you and for our country, which is going through difficult times. I will greatly reward your services. This is the situation and for now we have no choice but to implement this measure.”
After hearing what Sultan Hakim had to say, I was extremely surprised and disturbed; But I also knew that there was nothing else I could do. Without wasting time, I immediately set out to convey the Sultan's order to my village. A day later, I reached Ayn Asuadi and informed my villager of Hakim's order. Some people, like me, were shocked at this news. But most of them got angry with the Judge and uttered all the curses he knew behind his back. The village leaders, including my stepfather, decided to meet in the evening to discuss the issue, as a result of their joint decision to talk about what we should do in the face of this situation.
I went to my house with my step-dad Affan to take advantage of the opportunity to rest and relieve longing.
Ever since the armies of the Khergit Khanate and the Rhodok Kingdom had stepped on our lands with their war cries, they had been sacrificing all the Sarranid villages, peasants and caravans they encountered and slaughtering our people on every road they passed. Sooner or later they would reach the village of Ayn Asuadi. When our Sultan could not get support from Hakim, the people of Ayn Assuadi were confused as to what to do. For this reason, the elders of our village were also very nervous and had to take a vital decision on behalf of the townspeople.
After the negotiations that started in the evening but lasted throughout the night, they decided that resisting the enemy armies was no different than committing suicide, and they decided to immigrate to the northwest, somewhere in Swadia or Nordic lands, without wasting any time, defiant of Sultan Hakim's order. There was no war in the regions of those kingdoms and they were at peace for a long time. The land of the Vaegirs was not chosen because of its cold climate. In short, the farther they got away from the great war that had come to our door, the better for them.
While these were being discussed, I was curiously listening to what was being said behind the door. Unfortunately, I did not agree with this unfortunate decision made. I entered in a fury and insistently repeated that we must obey Sultan Hakim's order and fight; but the elders did not listen to me and announced to all the townspeople that it was decided to emigrate.
For a while I wandered aimlessly in the secluded corners of the village and went home in great sadness. I sat on the threshold of the door and silently watched Affan preparing for emigration. The people of the village hurriedly loaded the necessary clothing and food onto the camels. I was thinking about how we can fight the enemies.
Noticing that I was sitting in front of the door with a sad and thoughtful gaze, my stepfather Affan said, "What are you waiting for, son?" said. “You take the other camel and I'll take the other one. Let's start loading our stuff on the animals with a hand at these. Come on, hurry, Ammar, let these preparations be finished as soon as possible.”
I was angry in Affan. At least I expected him to give me credit. He had to understand that I would be angry about this, but he was more than willing to leave the place where he had lived for over half a century without fighting for it. Reluctantly, I stood up and walked in with heavy steps and sat in my room. After a while, Affan called me again from outside:
“What are you waiting for, Ammar, I have prepared our camels. The villagers have started to gather in the square, now we have to go. You know, son, I have no strength left. If we don't catch up, we'll be left behind. They won't wait for us."
“Okay, dad, you go with them!” I called. “You go with those traitors. I have a few more items to buy; I'll come when I get them too."
"Don't talk like that, son. We are farmers. None of us know how to use the sword like you. What do we know about war? Come on, don't be too late. Time is precious. We must get away from here before the enemy armies devour our little village with us.”
I didn't want to leave my house. This was not just about Sultan Hakim's order to us. The main reason; I could not take my pride in escaping from the Rhodoks who martyred my own father years ago and the Khergits who collaborated with them and massacred our people. I couldn't control my anger when I thought about the helplessness I was in and the decision made by the elders. I walked into the living room of the house with quick steps and took out the war clothes that my father had entrusted to me from my wardrobe.
After donning the shield and sword, I mounted my black horse, which was waiting in the garden of the house, and rode quickly towards the town square. A great friendship was formed between me and this horse in a short time. I named it Storm. Due to the desert climate of our land, we did not prefer horses. Because the horses would quickly tire and slow down in the desert. Camels, on the other hand, were much more resistant in this regard due to both the water and the food they ate.
Of course, I have seen Mamluks riding horses in our armies. Also, my late father was a master horse rider, known even by the Khergits. I think it was in my blood to wield a sword and ride a horse. In the dark of the night, I suddenly appeared on the road to the square. The clatter of my metal armor, my gun, and the sound of hooves seemed to accompany me from behind, splitting the air as I galloped over the Galloping Storm. Most of those who saw me for the first time were surprised when they noticed the armor and weapons on me.
Ignoring their astonished looks, I rode into the middle of the crowd. I had to give a long but impressive speech and convince them to fight no matter what. Otherwise, Sultan Hakim would call us "cowardly immigrants" behind our backs; Even thinking about it made me feel proud. With my usual firm demeanor, I began to call out to the townspeople, over my horse standing in the middle of the crowd:
“You are betraying our homeland! You are fleeing, leaving the lands entrusted to us to live and protect as a result of the price paid by our ancestors with their blood, to foreigners who massacred our people. You are afraid, you are weak! Be sure that after you leave here, in your new life and in your new surroundings, people from other peoples will talk about you with these insulting adjectives. They will begin by saying cowardly Sarranidians or cowardly immigrants.
If you see such a life easier than death, I have nothing more to say to you. You can go away to seek refuge in the kingdom of your choice. If you really think so, don't hesitate to jump into the arms of that disgraceful life, even for a moment. But I would never join this journey of a handful of helpless people like you. I will stay and fight alone in this village where my late mother and I were born. No one can take away the land where I was born without killing me. And death is an easier and more honorable end for me than living among people like you.
I believe with all my heart that my late father and mother would have preferred me to do the same. Finally, remember that I will not do this for a sultan who has left us alone in our difficult times and clearly does not care if we die. I will do this to set an example for my predecessors and future generations who lived with dignity like me. Now those of you who agree with me will come after me, or maybe live a little longer, regretting it forever in deep shame. ”
After I finished my speech, without giving anyone the right to answer and without looking back, I quickly reared my horse and left the square and disappeared into the darkness of the night, driving towards the south entrance of the town.
"When it was all over, it was still night. They came suddenly and surrounded us before we realized what was happening. Things got out of control and running or fighting was no longer an option. After a while, the sky was covered with dark clouds. Then a heavy downpour began. "Yes, it was raining in the desert. It shouldn't have been that surprising. At certain times of the year, our land was saturated with rain, but it would take a few days or weeks at most. Then the scorching heat would not abate above us for the rest of the year."
The voices of the groans had ceased now, and no one was moving. The rain was pouring down on the dead bodies of those who died here today, and it was cleaning small pools of blood from their corpses, which were formed by the wounds of swords, spears and arrows. It wasn't our fault, we didn't even know why. But for the sake of an irrational war that we do not know why it started, the people of Ayn Asuadi painted the village square with their own blood. Despite everything, we preserved our dignity. But this thing we lived in was not called war. They had us trapped and slaughtered like pigs waiting in the slaughterhouses without knowing anything. The amazing thing is, the funny thing about this is that it wasn't me who gave that encouraging speech to my villagers a few hours ago. That old Ammar self in my memories was gone when I witnessed the real face of war. I acted like a stupid kid who didn't know what he was talking about.
I was in the middle of the square. I was in the open field, soaked by the rain, on the floor, collapsed on my knees, covered in blood. Everything was like a nightmare from which I wanted to wake up immediately. The droplets on my eyelashes were starting to feel heavy on my eyelids. I was trying hard to open my eyes again, but I just couldn't afford it. I could smell the rotting corpses mixed with the heavy smell of earth, and it brought images of the massacre that I wanted to erase. As I straightened up with heavy movements, I felt as if I weighed a ton. I tried to look around with my tired eyes to remember where I was.
While fighting with my horse Storm with the enemies, I was hit by an arrow and I lost my balance and fell to the ground. As I fell off the horse, I hit my head against a large stone and received a heavy blow. That's why all this seemed unreal to me. I was sheltered amidst the dead that had piled on me dramatically. I was shocked at first when I came to myself. I was not conscious. Dream and reality were intertwined. Then I was startled by the pain I felt in my right arm, where the arrow had pierced. It brought me a little bit of reality and awakened me. With horror-filled eyes, I looked at the bodies on the ground again and again. What I saw in those few seconds seemed like a lifetime to me. I remembered the arrows that Kergit and Rhodok soldiers rained down on us with their treacherous looks and laughter. These men had destroyed my home, my family and my neighbors, in short, my life. Meanwhile, there was a fact that I ignored; I had lost a lot of blood. My consciousness seemed to go away again.
As a child, I enjoyed watching lightning strikes. Since this situation is rare as I said, I would love this time of year more and always wait. While the other children in the village were scared and hiding, I would find peace in the sounds of lightning strikes. They would descend to the earth like the whips of the Creator. But it was the first time I had seen lightning up close. One after another, it crashed very close to the village, briefly illuminating the looted village of Ayn Asuadi in the dark. I was walking around the square, checking everyone one by one as if it would help; But just as I already knew that I was about to die, I also knew that none of them were alive.
I hadn't cried for anything in my life, not even my mother's or my father's death. I couldn't hold back my tears, I was suffocating in them, overwhelmed by them. I kept wandering aimlessly through my involuntarily trembling body. My vision was misty with the drops of my tears. I entered a forest. I continued my walk with nowhere to go, even though I bumped into the huge trees that came over me. Small pieces of twigs were persistently wrapping around my feet. All this upset my balance even more, which I had barely achieved.
I was falling apart a few feet apart. I was trying to lift myself uncontrollably, covered in mud. I didn't want to die, but I just didn't want to die without getting our revenge. So I was trying with my last strength to hold on to life in the hope of finding someone who could help me. I don't know how I did it, but I was out in the clearing beyond the forest. Vast green areas caught my eye. The image of this area was like a portrait of an artist who painted that there is still beauty in the world. Thinking that there might be a city or a town nearby, I tightened my steps by pushing my limits. I couldn't tell if the tears streaming down my eyes and cheeks were because it was still raining or because I was crying.
Then, even though I couldn't see their lines clearly on the horizon, big structures caught my eye. It was a vast area with great walls, castles and fields around them. But I was in no condition to go any further in the soil that became muddy and heavy with the pouring rain. The magnificent view of the morning sun just beginning to rise, disappearing behind my closed eyelids, the last thing I felt and heard before I passed out; It was the voice of a girl who grabbed me with both arms and pulled me to her as I fell facedown. As I surrendered my soul to nothingness, a miracle had happened.
I couldn't make out his face in the sunlight. But I knew from her voice that it was a girl. Somehow he had grabbed me with both delicate hands, wrapped his arms around me and laid me on his knee. While I was trying to look at him with an empty expression with my tears, I was sad because I couldn't see his features. But I'm sure your eyes are beautiful. The girl smelled like roses and daisies from the most beautiful gardens. Suddenly I began to feel a comforting feeling rushing over my body and then through it. In her fragrant arms, all the pain and troubles were gone. All the bad things I've been through are now distant and forgotten scraps of memory..."
There was a deep silence in the square. The townspeople were startled by the words they heard from me and began to think about them. But this silent waiting lasted all night. I had fallen asleep on the edge of a tree where I had unwittingly tied my horse. I opened my eyes to the new day with the effect of the terrible nightmares I had towards the morning. While I was trying to come to my senses and interpret what I saw, I was startled by the noise of the arguments approaching from the village. I saw a justified expression in the eyes of the young and old, who were in favor of running away at night, as they approached me. I saw my stepfather among them, and even he seemed to have the will to fight against my determination.
The assembled townspeople quickly drew their weapons and held them out towards me, then in unison:
“We came here to die with you.” they said angrily.
In the face of this unexpected support, I had quickly forgotten my terrible nightmare. Because now I had a hundred other people behind me who were brave enough to defy death together. We built trenches and put the men there. In my dream, I was not going to let the disaster of the village of Ayn Asuadi happen. In this village where I was born, we were going to write a legend with my little army.
This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.
