Chapter 131: The Greatest Spoils of War

The Karakhanid royal palace in Shule — perhaps it should be called the Shule Garrison Command, or the Shule royal palace.

Its eastern half was the office and residence of the former Great Tang Garrison Commander of Shule, and its western half was the royal palace of the Bai family, the former kings of Shule.

Originally a wall and a separate moat divided the two sections, but after Saktu occupied the place, the wall between east and west was torn down and the moat filled in, leaving it as it now appears.

By now it was fully daylight, and great fires were burning throughout Shule. Decades of suppressed religious hatred erupted completely in this moment!

Those converts of various faiths and the Muslim believers from the west, who had once been so arrogant, now felt every bit as much regret.

Zhang Zhao paid none of this any mind — not because he did not want to, but because he truly could not. The armored soldiers of the Hanshan capital still able to follow him now numbered fewer than fifty, and the Khotan palace guards only a little over a hundred. This was not because the rest had fallen, but because it had been too dark when the battle began, and in the charge some had been scattered.

With only a hundred or so men, trying to stop others from killing and looting was simply impossible.

So Zhang Zhao headed straight for the Karakhanid royal palace in Shule. He meant to strike while the iron was hot and take this final stronghold of Shule.

The pale-faced Itihad was dragged over, and at once the crowd of religious figures in their varied vestments before Zhang Zhao went red-eyed.

Were Zhang Zhao not present, Itihad would not have lived five seconds; he would have been beaten to death on the spot by the monks, Arhats, and priests surging forward.

"You barbarian Hu! Never thought you'd see a day like this, did you! When you destroyed our Great Cloud Temple back then, you surely never imagined retribution would come so quickly!"

A tall monk, his head covered in blood, snarled through gritted teeth — this was the Senior Brother Huitong whom Li Qilang had mentioned.

"Fan Shun, take Master Huitong and hurry to the governor's dungeon in the north of the city to rescue Master Daozhen and the others!"

Zhang Zhao shot a look at Fan Shun, who had just arrived. This Master Huitong was a descendant of the Anxi army, so Zhang Zhao was certainly inclined to treat him with special regard — and he needed to send him away, because what Zhang Zhao was about to do next might not be of any benefit to Buddhism.

Fan Shun nodded. Before he had even moved, Huitong, already blood-maddened, gave Zhang Zhao a solemn salute, then turned and followed Fan Shun toward the north of the city. His master, the old monk Daozhen, was still locked in the dungeon!

As soon as Huitong left, the Manichaean apostle stepped forward. "Noble Duke of Fengtian of the Golden Kingdom, if you will hand this man over to us, you shall receive the friendship and respect of all believers of the Great Father of Light!"

Before his words had even faded, the Nestorian bishop and the foreign monk Rozhiti also hurried forward.

At this moment, Itihad was no mere object for venting rage; clearly he was also a superb tool for rallying the faithful anew.

Whoever could carry Itihad away and execute him before the eyes of the believers would surely restore much of his former prestige.

"Gentlemen, I understand how you feel, but there is only one man. So I have decided: which of you three gets this governor shall be decided by yourselves!" Zhang Zhao smiled faintly, looking somewhat like a cunning merchant.

"We decide?" Rozhiti asked doubtfully, but then his brow furrowed, as if he was beginning to understand what Zhang Zhao was up to.

"Yes! You decide among yourselves, because I do not need the governor — but I do need this!" Zhang Zhao pointed at the palace of Saktu Bughra Khan.

"Whoever helps me take this palace shall have Governor Itihad. And not only that — I will also share with him a portion of the treasures within!"

This was why Zhang Zhao had sent Huitong away first. Had Huitong asked for Itihad to avenge his master, Zhang Zhao would have found it hard to refuse.

At the same time, as the man most responsible for breaking open Shule, Zhang Zhao had not let any of his own men take part in the looting and pursuit elsewhere — all for the sake of this royal city.

He had by now figured out Li Shengtian's style of rule and his character: this was a sovereign extremely concerned with face, and somewhat protective of his own.

Concerned with face as he was, he would not choose to enter the city while Shule was still engulfed in mass slaughter, with blood and fire rising to the sky.

And that protective streak would give Zhang Zhao some room to maneuver. As long as he presented Li Shengtian with most of the treasure in Saktu's royal city and Saktu's consorts and princesses, then whatever remained he could keep for himself.

The Khotan army was about to arrive at any moment. Unlike Zhang Zhao, who had only a few hundred men, once those commanders with thousands of troops entered and took this royal city, Zhang Zhao would have suffered a great loss.

"Please wait a moment, Duke — the believers of the Great Father of Light will be here at once!" Indeed, rich rewards make brave men. No sooner had Zhang Zhao made his meaning clear than the Manichaean apostle hurried off.

Before he had even turned away, the Nestorian bishop and the foreign monk Rozhiti also strode off swiftly; all three went to gather their followers.

"Young lord, the Manichaeans are numerous and strong. Most likely they will be the ones to take the palace. Do we really mean to give them all these benefits?"

Yin Yaozi drew close to Zhang Zhao and asked softly. Dunhuang was a Buddhist land, so Yin Yaozi naturally leaned toward Buddhism as well.

Zhang Zhao shook his head. If he had a choice, he wanted no religion at all; best of all would be to promote Confucian learning in this place.

But conditions did not allow it. At this time, Manichaeism, Buddhism, and the like were still quite formidable, and Zhang Zhao would need to rely on them for a long while yet.

"How could I let any one of them grow dominant? Whoever contributes the most will simply get a larger share."

Having said this, Zhang Zhao patted Yin Yaozi on the shoulder. "Cousin, mount up and ride at once to the west of the city. Bring over our men from the Gold-Splitting Capital, the Divine Mechanism Capital, and the rear camp. The gold, silver, and treasure of the royal city — we give to no one but the Great Sage Son of Heaven!"

Yin Yaozi thought it over and agreed. What did it matter now, Buddha or the Great Father of Light? The most important thing was to swallow the fat meat before them. Shule had been won through their bloody battle, so of course they should take all the spoils.

"Ma Yaozi, take men south and block the road for me. No matter who it is — unless my uncle the Great Sage Son of Heaven comes in person — let no one through. If anyone dares force their way, then damn it, strike to kill!"

After instructing Yin Yaozi, Zhang Zhao sent out Ma Yaozi, the most quick-witted and most shameless of them all, to block the road.

"Wu Yuan'er, go find Li Qilang. The two of you go at once to the west of the city to find some women and physicians, and send all our wounded to the west side.

Follow strictly the method I described for eliminating external evil. Boil all the cotton cloth and the rest — especially for Wang Tongxin. Keep an eye on him for me; I'm afraid he won't hold out."

As he gave Wu Yuan'er these orders, Zhang Zhao's heart was heavy. He had not counted the casualties, because he did not quite dare to.

But Zhang Zhao knew this had been another battle of seven hundred against four thousand, and the enemy's divine warriors had been more tenacious than those outside the city. The casualties were very likely not small.

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