Handling the Aftermath
When Ismail seized Tabriz, the Aq Qoyunlu dynasty fell into chaos, and I took advantage of that opening to occupy Erzurum as well.
Ismail, who might steal another man’s rice bowl but would never let his own be taken, sent five thousand Qizilbash to make me cough up Erzurum.
‘And they got spectacularly ruined.’
Even in the worst outcome Ismail had imagined, there probably hadn’t been an ending where they were one-sidedly annihilated. At most, he must have expected both sides to suffer grievous losses.
His judgment hadn’t been wrong.
The numbers were similar, but in terms of combat strength, the Qizilbash, who already had experience from several wars, were superior.
‘Most of the three hundred casualties on our side were caused by that suicide squad of five hundred, after all.’
Even though they had been ordered to avoid fighting as much as possible, the enemy charged in so desperately that we took those losses.
Although the narrow terrain prevented them from properly using their numerical advantage, it was enough to show just how outstanding the Qizilbash were.
‘Not that it mattered. Most of them died in vain without even getting to shoot a single arrow.’
This was a severe blow to Ismail. To him, the Qizilbash must have been an extremely precious force.
How precious? If he were told to choose between five thousand Qizilbash and his left arm, he would cautiously offer up his left testicle instead.
Of course, this wouldn’t be enough to make him collapse, but it would be a blow big enough to leave him suffering from insomnia for a while.
“Even handling the aftermath is work.”
Leaving corpses for wild beasts to devour was one thing when there were only one or two bodies. If thousands of corpses were left lying around, disease might spread.
On top of that, the spoils to be collected were no small matter.
The weapons used by the Qizilbash, and even the horses that had died together with their masters, were valuable.
‘Since they died like that, they aren’t halal food, so Muslims won’t be able to eat them. But non-Muslims can eat them just fine. We can get horsehide too.’
On top of that, we obtained several thousand perfectly sound spare horses, so even after distributing spoils to the soldiers who participated in the battle, plenty would remain.
Above all, the happiest thing was that I was bringing along a fine gift.
“I can’t wait to give Ismail his present.”
Looking at the box containing Nevazar’s head, Yusuf smiled and took hold of his horse’s reins.
Excluding the soldiers left behind to handle the aftermath, four thousand cavalry headed for Erzurum.
Since the soldiers led by Ismail had likely almost arrived at Erzurum, they moved quickly without overexerting themselves. After five days, Yusuf reached his destination and saw Erzurum half-turned into rags.
“If we hadn’t reinforced it, it wouldn’t have lasted long. Don’t you think?”
“Their commander seems to be no ordinary man.”
Of course not. It was Ismail, after all.
As if he had not neglected to keep watch of the surroundings even while conducting a siege, he was withdrawing his army despite it being midday when we arrived.
That alone was enough to roughly gauge his ability, and Yusuf, who had intended to launch a surprise attack if the enemy had been absorbed in the siege, clicked his tongue.
“Go and give him the gift.”
Near the enemy army, one cavalryman under Arda’s orders left the box behind. A short while later, a cavalryman from Ismail’s side came out, opened the box, then hurriedly returned.
“It’s a shame I couldn’t see him delighted by his surprise gift in person.”
He’ll probably jump for joy.
∗ ∗ ∗
Crack!
“Uaaaaah!”
After smashing Nevazar’s head, Ismail let out a roar filled with rage.
At the sight of Ismail as though he had lost his reason, the commanders remained silent with dark faces. After venting his fury until he was dizzy, he dropped heavily into a chair.
The fact that the enemy cavalry, who had ridden out to deal with his soldiers, had returned together with Nevazar’s head meant one thing.
“Annihilation, is it? Annihilation.”
Since most of the enemy had returned, even if there were any survivors, they could not have remained in numbers sufficient to threaten the enemy.
He felt like asking that shattered head just what on earth they had done to be annihilated without even inflicting proper damage.
After barely suppressing his boiling anger, one of the commanders carefully opened his mouth toward Ismail.
“O Shah.”
“I know. We have to retreat.”
Ismail made the decision rationally.
No matter how furious he was, he was not so lacking in judgment as to conduct a siege with thousands of enemy cavalry at his side.
And what he was pondering now was not something like retreat.
“The enemy commander, that prince—his name was Yusuf, wasn’t it?”
“That is correct.”
“It’s him.”
“…What do you mean?”
To his subordinate, who asked with a puzzled face, Ismail spoke coldly.
“The one who spread those strange rumors.”
It was not a conclusion based on logical evidence, but one relying solely on intuition. Even so, Ismail did not doubt his own judgment.
Because the sixth sense that had saved his life countless times was telling him so.
‘Only fourteen years old?’
Age did not matter.
There was only a two-year difference between them, and at that age, he himself had won a great victory against Faruk’s twenty-seven thousand troops.
Once he acknowledged his opponent, the reason for this defeat also became clear.
‘Unlike an enemy who had prepared thoroughly, I fought without properly knowing my opponent. Of course I had to lose.’
Thinking that, Ismail asked.
“He has seven elder brothers, did you say?”
“That is correct.”
In the eyes of others, he might seem like a prince with no real possibility of becoming master of the Ottomans, but to Ismail, he did not look like someone who would be easily dealt with.
If this was to become a long ill-fated relationship, it was right to prepare in advance.
“You may use merchants heading to Trabzon, or you may bribe those living in his territory. Gather as much information as possible.”
The arrogant king willingly accepted the appearance of a worthy rival.
“And bring our comrades living in Rum over to our side. We must return what we have received.”
Following his trail, his Shiite comrades would shake their lands.
Having foretold Shiite unrest within the Ottoman realm, Ismail rose from his seat.
“We retreat. Revenge will be sought at the next opportunity.”
Yusuf’s victory was now certain.
∗ ∗ ∗
Ismail was not an easy enemy to the very end.
‘To think he’d retreat to Erzincan.’
As if he knew I was growing greedy, Ismail retreated to Erzincan, entered without bloodshed, and planted his banner there.
Erzincan had to choose between the Safavids and the Ottomans, and with an army driven mad by defeat at Erzurum arriving with axes in hand, they had no choice but to open their gates.
They were so murderous that even asking who they were would have been enough to get everyone slaughtered on the spot.
‘It’s also our fault for just watching his retreat in a daze.’
We had already gained everything we needed, so why poke the tail of a viper whose venom was fully roused?
We simply saw him off on his way so that he wouldn’t try anything foolish.
‘Besides, Ismail can’t collapse just yet. He has to throw the empire into confusion for me.’
Although I had achieved an extraordinary result, there were still many old fossils who were conservative when it came to succession, so it was more accurate to say that I had only now reached the same starting line as my other brothers.
To surpass my other brothers, I needed an opening to squeeze through.
There was also something else I gained as a bonus.
[Great Victory, Score +10]
I did think the score was stingy for a great victory, but the system had always been like this.
Adding that to the 30 points I had received earlier thanks to smallpox made 40 points, so I could now obtain one more trait. That alone was enough to be satisfied for now.
The next one was 80 points, so who knew when I would gather that much.
“In any case, what matters right now is that the war is over.”
Trabzon, which had already heard the news of the great victory, was in a festive mood, and I entered the city amid all sorts of cheers.
There were men waving gold ornaments taken from dead Qizilbash in their hands, and others patting the horses they had received as their share while flirting with women.
Well, if they were going to increase the population, I had no intention of stopping them. As long as they didn’t commit any crimes.
“Welcome back.”
“I have returned.”
Fatima, who looked even thinner than when I had left, carefully stroked Yusuf’s hand, and Ayşe, who had been standing elegantly beside her, said,
“The Hatun prayed earnestly at the mosque every day for Your Highness to return safely.”
She had seen off her son calmly as he went to the battlefield, but it seemed that was not how she felt inside.
To think she had worried enough to grow thinner.
At Ayşe’s words, Fatima gently furrowed her beautiful face.
“Do not say unnecessary things. More importantly, you have grown a great deal while I have not seen you.”
“Have I?”
Perhaps because I was at the age to grow quickly, even though it had only been a few months, I had grown quite a bit taller.
Thanks to that, I had at least reached the point where I could clamber onto a horse with some effort, whereas before I had not been able to mount properly without someone’s help.
For some reason, Arda, whose arrow wound was wrapped round and round in bandages, was acting pathetic by himself, saying, “Lord Burka, the prince has grown this much.”
‘Anyone seeing that would think Burka was my father.’
Honestly, when he was alive, we hadn’t even been on such good terms.
After enjoying a brief reunion with Fatima, Yusuf looked at Şemsi, who was standing quietly.
“Pasha, there were no particular problems while I was away, were there?”
“What problems could there have been for me in the rear?”
Though Şemsi spoke modestly, being responsible for supplies from the rear was no ordinary task.
Because Şemsi, a seasoned pasha, had taken charge of it, I had been able to focus on the war without worrying about supplies even once.
“I know well that it is thanks to you that we were able to fight this war safely. Your merit in this war is by no means small. I will see that you are rewarded for it.”
“I will not refuse.”
Yusuf gave a faint laugh at Şemsi’s light banter and thought back on the hardships of the past few months.
Although the result had been good, as befitted all the preparation that had gone into it, being in a place where one could die at any moment if one let one’s guard down was mentally exhausting.
He had returned home, where he could rest, but—
‘Not every war is over yet.’
Yusuf’s eyes gleamed.
∗ ∗ ∗
Even if I had won the battle against Ismail, the great mountain standing right before me, this was not the end.
‘If I received Samtskhe’s help, I need to pay the price.’
Even if my relationship with Mzechabuk was close, if I only took what I needed and then kept my mouth shut, he would naturally be offended.
That price was punishing the other Georgians who had sided with the Safavids.
‘In any case, Ismail, having lost a great number of Qizilbash, has no leeway to pay attention to Georgia.’
If I joined forces with Samtskhe, conquered the other Georgian states, and squeezed taxes out of them, the job would be done.
There was no need for me to personally take part in this war with any difficulty.
If I simply entrusted it to Arda and sent troops, those cowardly Georgian states would spit out money on their own.
“At this rate, my path is almost exactly the same as Selim’s.”
Though there was the difference that Selim occupied Erzincan, while I occupied Erzurum, and that I produced results five years earlier.
As Yusuf lay on his bed organizing his thoughts, the sound of knocking reached his ears, and with his permission, the door opened.
“Ayşe, what is it?”
Ayşe, who had come to him late at night, approached with light steps and carefully sat on one side of the bed.
“You returned, but I felt we had barely spoken, so I came to see you. In truth, together with the Hatun, I also prayed every day that Your Highness would return safely.”
“I see.”
Smiling shyly as she twisted her blond hair with her fingers, Ayşe gently loosened the outer garment draped over her shoulders.
Showing off the dress that revealed the lines of her body, Ayşe softly embraced Yusuf.
“The Hatun told me to ease Your Highness’s weariness.”
Breathing in the scent of skin that teased the tip of his nose, Yusuf placed a hand on Ayşe’s shoulder, which trembled slightly as if she were nervous.
“Tonight will be short.”
At those words, Ayşe said playfully,
“Will there not be many more days for us to spend together from now on?”
She was right. A loosened rein would not be fastened again.
‘Come to think of it, I think there was also a trait related to children.’
That was not what mattered right now. For the moment, soothing his heated adolescent body came first.
The night deepened.