Last King of Kings

Chapter 7: Turmoil, both inner and outer

"I'm all ears." answered the Shah to Farrukhzad's answer.

"Thank you, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. I have some reports I wanted to show you personally, as these contain confidential information from our spy networks in the land of Romans and Arabs."

"Get to the point." New novel chapt𝒆rs are published on no/vel(b)in(.)co/m

"Of course, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. First, let's review what our spies learnt from the Romans. Apparently, Romans plan to send some kind of envoy to you, my Shahanshah. They also specified that this envoy isn't a mere courtesy from the Basileus, but part of some grander plan. I would advise caution, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. But it seems this information wasn't well guarded, so I wouldn't consider it vital."

Yazdegerd was already lost in thoughts by the time Farrukhzad finished talking. Envoy from the Romans? He didn't know what to make of it. He didn't deem Heraclius to be such courteous man to send envoys just for decency's sake, judging by how he usurped his throne from previous Basileus. But again, the previous Basileus was also usurper, but still. Something didn't sit right with Yazdegerd, as he leant his head against his arms.

"Is something the matter, my liege?" asked Farrukhzad, who was becoming increasingly worried about his Shah not responding.

"No, nothing. Please continue with the report."

"Of course, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal. Now, to our spies in Arabia..."

He fell silent suddenly, as if he read the report for the first time. Yazdegerd became worried.

"It looks like Arabian Caliph is preparing to attack your Empire. He seems to be gathering soldiers and fighters, with using "spread of true faith" as casus belli."

"It seems our worship of fire angers more people than it gladdens nowadays." said the Shah with a pinch of sarcasm. Farrukhzad grinned a bit, but quickly reverted to his normal expression.

"Thank you for the report, my wuzurg framadar. We can't afford another expenses right now, so I shall deal with the Arabs later. For now, focus on the plague relieving efforts. And spread my name far and wide, so people know who helped them. I will count on you."

After that, Shah left and Farrukhzad was left sitting in the room, with reports in one hand and cup of wine in other. After he drank the wine, he left the cup on the table and left the room, instructing servant behind the door to clean up. Then he left in the direction of his office.

----

"Rostam, are you aware of my and your position? I am with the Parsigs, while you are with the young Shahanshah, yet you are asking me to help you?"

"I am not asking or pleading anyone, my dear friend Piruz. I am commanding you, as a spahbed of the Sassanian army to march against G?ktürks and defeat them."

"And you think I will help you? I have no obligation to listen to you."

"Maybe not to me, but you did swear loyalty to our Shahanshah, may he be immortal, and you did recognize him as your rightful liege. Therefore it IS your obligation to listen to me, as I am acting under command of our Shahanshah!"

This startled the man with whom Rostam was arguing. He couldn't believe the child-emperor was capable of giving such orders. At first he thought that these orders come from Rostam himself.

"Our Shahanshah did?"

"Watch your mouth, Piruz."

"May he be immortal." added Piruz Khosrow, a powerful aristocrat, former wuzurg framadar and leader of Parsig faction. It should be noted that, although Rostam's father was leader of Pahlav faction, Rostam stepped away from petty factionalism when he was appointed as spahbed by Yazdegerd III.

"So, Piruz, I shall appoint you commander of the army against the G?ktürks. Your only objective is to hold Merv – no one expects anything more from you, not even our Shahanshah, may he be immortal."

"What if I still refuse?"

"This wasn't an offer, my friend."

Piruz sighed. "Alright then."

Rostam left Piroz to his own after telling him further details about the campaign. He felt relieved. Bahman Jaduya rejected him before he could even tell him the details and there was no arguing with the senile old fool. He was a great general, no doubt, but he was unbearable to deal with. Even his reasoning was outrageous. He didn't even try to come up with an excuse, he straight up said that he wanted to leisure in his residence on the bank of Tigris river. Rostam was glad that his old friend Piroz didn't reject him, although he needed a bit of persuasion. Maybe more than a bit, but it worked out eventually. Rostam then frowned. He now needed to secure logistics for the army, recruit the soldiers army was missing and check on the equipment and its conditions. It was delicate work that needed calm mind, rational thinking, persuasive words and pouch full of gold. At least few of them. He then set off to do his work, never knowing if the results will be worth it.

---

Yazdegerd was lying in his gardens, thinking about the problems he was facing. If all would go well, he would have G?ktürks and the plague done with. The problem is – it won't go as smoothly as it could and it is safe to say that problems will be encountered. But he believed his retainers, that if anything goes wrong they will deal with it accordingly. They, of course, have Yazdegerd's full support. He was also aware of how Zoroastrian clergy is dividing the population. Instead of fire they now worship gold and their followers are losing devotion, as more and more people of the Empire convert to Buddhism or Christianity. He felt saddened that people like these represent Ahura Mazda and Zoroaster's teachings. He had to deal with them after, but it had to wait. At least until G?ktürk threat is vanished. For now, only thing he could was to plan. He had to find someone with devotion strong enough to claim leadership over country's religion. The days where Persian rulers acknowledged themselves as of divine origin were long gone and so was their power over clergy. Still lying in his gardens, a servant ran up to him.

"My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, I bring a message from Jalinus, your hazarbed. He invites you on an urgent conference with him, saying that these matters are of "utmost importance."

Yazdegerd was sick of hearing words like "pressing" or "urgent" matters. And of "utmost importance" made its seat next to them.

"Lead me to him. Quickly."

"As you command, my Shahanshah, may he be immortal."