Stories thread - King of the Romans PBM

[flyd]

Outside of Damascus, 1228

It would be nice to say that the Khan of the mighty Horse Lords was a mighty man. That he was ten feet tall, and that the ground trembled when he spoke. He was not. The only thing that separated him from the other Mongol prisoners was his highly fancy armor. It was probably worth more than his life.

It would also be nice to say that the German commander and the Khan could engage in an emotional conversation after such a battle. A heated argument, perhaps. Insults, would be thrown! However, they were separated by a series of no fewer than three translators. It's the best that could be arranged on short notice. I think the intermediate languages were Arabic and Persian. In any case, little was said, but it took a very long time to say.

"Tell the Khan that I am considering accepting the ransom offer, but am worried that he will raise another army and attack us again."

The tedious process started. It would be a few minutes before the response came. The 2nd and 3rd translators had especial difficulty in understanding each other, I don't think either of them were very fluent in Persian.

Fredericus walked out of the tent, and looked at the battlefield. The wind had kicked up a lot of sand, and it was not possible to see very far, but as far as it could be seen, the ground was covered in bodies of men and horses. The final count was not in, but this piece of desert would be the final resting place to some 400 Germans, and a countless number of Mongols. Not a long distance away, up the hill to the south, would be the location of another mass grave in the future. At the present, occasional cries of men or horses could still be heard from up there, to say nothing of the sounds coming from this battlefield.

The German soldiers who remained had by now largely rallied at the camp. Most were sitting or lying, being extremely tired from having fought two battles within the span of a few hours. Damascus was not far away, and another would be coming soon. They were still roughly grouped with their regiments, and it was obvious that none of them were even close to full strength. Still, I expect the men would be ready to march given the order. They could be considered happy to be in a regiment which was still at one third strength. Their commander and most of his bodyguard had died, and their new commander now formed a one-man regiment, after his entire bodyguard had been wiped out. Though the troops were inspired, this created some administrative difficulties for Fredericus, as he did not know anyone.

"Hey, you. What was your purpose, again?"

"I was ordered to count the troops, sir."

"Oh. Right. Well, what is the count?"

"596 so far, but there are still men out there."

"Has Leopold's body been found?"

No. No, it hadn't. Everyone had seen it happen, but no one now knew where. They all had different versions of the story too. Some say he dropped his sword in the middle of the battle, and wanted to die. Others say he dropped his sword because he was wounded in the arm, and killed three Mongols with his bare hands before being killed. Others say he killed five. At least a few claim they saw him bite the Khan's head off, although I would dispute that one on the grounds that the Khan is sitting over in the tent.

By this time, the tedious translation process was over, and the Arab translator was ready to deliver the Khan's response. In broken German, the following was roughly delivered:

"The Khan says that it would be in your best interest to accept the offer of ransom. The Khan says that this attack that he has led was merely a scouting party. The Khan says that the real army is now forming in Persia, and that it is ten times bigger than all the armies you have seen, combined. The Khan says that unless he reports that there is nothing here worth conquering, that you will be attacked by this army. The Khan also says that if he should die, nothing will save you from the wrath of his brothers. He says that he was impressed with the fighting skill and bravery of you Germans, and that he may yet be convinced to spare you. But the Khan wants to make clear that if you choose to face the full might of the Mongol army, that you will be destroyed. That is all the Khan says."

Everyone was a bit stunned at this reply. It was common knowledge that these Mongols possessed a vast empire, one that stretched well beyond the point where everyone's knowledge of geography stopped. Where the hell was Transoxania, anyway? But how big of an army could they really field? Was this man telling the truth, or was he merely trying to save his worthless life?

Some of the guards started to quietly discuss these considerations, when they were interrupted by a soldier entering the tent, on his horse. For some reason, the guards outside had not stopped him, and it soon became clear why: he had with him the body of Leopold. It was clear that he had come here for the Khan. As he jumped off his horse and grabbed Leopold's sword, he was restrained by the guards, but just barely, at least two of them being injured in the process. Though not happy by Leopold's death, the guards were worried about the Khan's threat.

After a short pause, Fredericus spoke up:

"Today, just one of our armies destroyed three large armies of our enemy in the open field. We only needed to do that because we were in a hurry, for we wanted to reach Damascus before them. When and if they come for the second time, we will be ready. We will have many armies, and with each of them being three times better than an army of the enemy, we cannot lose. I don't care how many armies they have. Let them come."

Nobody found further reason to protect the Khan.