Chapter 32: The aftermath of an onslaught
"Andarzaghar! What the hell happened there? How is this possible?"
As Bahman regrouped with Andarzaghar and helped him reorganize his army, his joy from seeing his friend returning unharmed turned into anger and sorrow. Anger on Arabs and sorrow for the dead Persians. He wanted revenge as soon as possible, but first had to know what happened. How could a much bigger army be defeated so easily and decisively? This question gnawed at him, in the back of his mind. And he wanted it answered.
"I have to admit, my friend, I was completely unaware of their plot. That Arab general, Khalid was his name, is a someone who shouldn't be taken lightly! He is a worthy foe."
Bahman looked unimpressed at Andarzaghar's attempt to drive the conversation other way and to prevent them talking about something which shamed him so much.
"My friend, I understand that you are ashamed of this, but we won't be able to take revenge unless we know their strategy. So please, tell me, how did that Khalid defeat you?"
Andarzaghar sighed. It looked like he won't be able to dodge this discussion, so he might as well tell everything.
"He sent most of his cavalrymen behind us, under the cover of night. Nobody noticed them, maybe because they're a light cavalry, without the armour ringing on them. And horse steps don't make much sound if muffled by sand, of which was plenty around. And that's basically it. When I ordered counterattack against their retreating cavalry, they sprung out of nowhere, like a eagle spreading its wings and landing upon its prey. Weren't it for your Aswaran, we would become the prey, which was hunted down."
Such simple trick yet used so efficiently. While there was no doubt Andarzaghar also made some errors – maybe his command was a bit rash, or maybe he waited for too long. No one will know now that the deed is done. He started to take Arabs much more seriously than before, especially when being led by this man, Khalid ibn al-Walid. It was clear he will be the biggest obstacle Persia will have to overcome.
"What shall we do now?" asked Andarzaghar. "Arabs will definitely march on Hira now and we'll have no one to stop them. The city is destined to fall."
"Now? Now we march to Ctesiphon. It is not our burden to bear from now on, but our Shahanshah's, may he be immortal. It will be up to him to decide the next course of action."
"Do you think we'll make it there before they capture Hira?"
"We must."
Bahman then sent a report to his Shahanshah, stating the details and what happened during the battle. He also wrote about their march to Ctesiphon, and that they should discuss further details in person. He only thought it wouldn't be too late.
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"Great! Excellent! Superb!"
Usama ibn Zayd, the adopted son of prophet Mohammed was looking at Abu Bakr, current Caliph of Arabs and someone whom he took as a part of his family. Abu Bakr was reading a piece of paper while exclaiming these praising words. They were, of course, reports from Khalid ibn al-Walid, bringing news so good Abu Bakr had to hold onto something while reading them. Thousands upon thousands Persians lie dead on the battlefield Khalid left behind him. Arab army was doing much better than Abu Bakr even expected, so he started planning another campaign. Against the Romans. His goal of conquering Mesopotamia south of Euphrates was nearly done, so he would then delegate Khalid to fight the Romans and Ghassanids in Syria and Egypt. These two regions were the next in row for the Arabian plan of expansion, and since the campaign in Persian Mesopotamia was going smoothly, he was able to plan attack against Romans ahead, maybe even send an army before Khalid was finished in Mesopotamia to start things up. He had yet to decide. But everything else was clear. Syria and Egypt would be theirs.
Usama was still sitting there, looking at Abu Bakr and his joy of reading the reports. He detested it. Thousands enemies laid dead, but thousands of Arabs too. Was it really worth it? Was it worth it, killing so many of Persians? After all, was this really what Allah wanted? To spread his name using sword and arrow? By spilling blood and burning villages? He didn't think so. He detested this form of spreading their holy religion. After all, all are equal in the eyes of Allah, but how come some are more equal than the others? How come its cheering when ten thousand Persians die, and its mourning when thousand Arabs die? Is this the equality Allah wanted? The equality they all believed in? It wasn't and he wanted this unnecessary war to stop. To stop the bloodshed. It was only a matter of time before Persians will understand what's going on, before they make their stand and crush the Arabs. He was sure of it. And so he aimed for the position of Caliph of Arabs. He had Abu Bakr's support, and even support of few other influential people, members of the Mohammed's company. Abu Bakr was old and weak. He already mentioned a few times to Usama he would resign and support him in the election. He, Usama, and Umar had the biggest chance to win. And while Usama wanted to stop this aggressiveness, before Persians bite back, Umar wanted to push and continue on, conquering Persians completely. They were like fire and water, and it was up to the weather to decide, who would prevail.
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Rostam stood eye to eye with Endraghar, the leader of the rebellion. They knew each other personally, after all, they all were members of the same faction once. But not anymore. He came before Rostam with an offer. He wanted to negotiate. And so, they both stood there, on their horses, looking each other in the eyes.
"Rostam, long time no see. So now you're serving our Shahanshah? How low have you stooped?"
"Dear Endarghar, at least I am not pacting and rebelling against my rightful liege."
"Rightful liege? He's just an incompetent kid. Even my horse would rule better than him!"
"In this half a year, he has ruled better and more competent than you ever will. This negotiation is over."
Endarghar looked at Rostam, angered, but then ordered his men and rode back. Rostam had no intention to listen to any offers that came from this mindless fool. It was clear as ice that man had never met his Shahanshah, but he still talked as if he knew him very well. Rostam didn't need to hear any more words from his, as his answer would remain the same. Prepare for battle.
The source of this c𝐨ntent is freewe(b)nov𝒆l