Chapter 179: You Are My Bosom Friend!

In 932 CE, the third year of Changxing of the Later Tang, on the seventh day of the seventh month, the great army of the Persian Samanid state, which had been storming Balasagun for five days, suddenly collapsed on a stormy morning.

When Abdul Ahmad, leader of the Warriors of God and Grand Imam of the Sufi order of Bukhara, whose forces had suffered heavy casualties and run short of supplies from the fierce assaults on Balasagun, stormed furiously into the command tent of the army's commander, Ali Dullaf, he was instantly stunned.

Because everything was still there — even Governor Dullaf's armor still hung in the command tent — but there was no one.

Immediately after, the believers sent out to search the various areas also came back to report that not only had Governor Ali Dullaf vanished without a trace, but every officer of the Al-Saliyah army above the rank of chiliarch, along with some centurion officers, had all vanished without a trace.

What had left together with them were more than ten tents' worth of troops — roughly two thousand elite soldiers of the Al-Saliyah army.

Only at this point did the Warriors of God and the Mustafa army, who had suffered nearly a thousand casualties in the siege, realize that they had been abandoned, and that the granary had run dry.

The five days of fierce assault, and the promise that after Balasagun was taken, the city would be granted to the Sufi order as a foothold —

all of it had been nothing but false promises thrown at them to cover Governor Ali Dullaf's escape.

The wailing of the abandoned spread rapidly through the entire camp, and at this moment even Ahmad, the Grand Imam and chief convener of the Warriors of God, could no longer control the troops.

The army mutinied at once. Great numbers of the Warriors of God and the Mustafa army first looted what little grain remained in the camp, then furiously charged into the Al-Saliyah troops who had not yet withdrawn, causing widespread clashes.

In the end, the Warriors of God, with their fury nowhere else to vent, turned their rage upon Abdul Ahmad.

After killing their own Grand Imam and a large number of senior clergy, they collapsed entirely under the attack of the elite troops Guo Xuanli had sent out from the walls of Balasagun.

Countless men began slaughtering one another over the slightest scrap of survival resources, and dragging along the few remaining senior officers, they began retreating toward the city of Asbara.

By this time, Bai Congxin, Li Ruotai, and the others, who had long since circled around the Warriors of God's main force, had already linked up with Zhang Zhao.

Zhang Zhao paid no attention to the abandoned Warriors of God. Instead, back when Ali Dullaf and his men had first fled, he had already split his forces into two columns.

One column pursued close behind, giving Ali Dullaf and his men no chance to catch their breath, while the other used the terrain ahead to block them at every step.

At this point, there was no need even for the Divine Arm crossbow — a single stone dropped from above was enough to terrify the fleeing, panic-stricken soldiers out of their wits.

Along the road of little more than a hundred li from Balasagun to Asbara, the corpses of Persian soldiers lay everywhere, and battle flags, great banners, armor, weapons, and all manner of supplies were strewn across the hillsides.

Bai Congxin and the others pursuing from behind did not even need to close in for hand-to-hand combat. They only had to hang far back, easily killing the stragglers and the exhausted, while making sure the men fleeing ahead could get no rest.

The soldiers killed by fear, exhaustion, and wounds outnumbered those who died by the sword more than five to one.

"My lord Wazir, it must be that bastard Ismail — he never cleared the ambushers from the woods at all. He must have simply fled!"

A big-bearded officer who had thrown away all his armor and wore only a single thin garment cried out to Ali Dullaf.

What should have been a smooth, quiet escape, prepared three days in advance, had been turned into this disaster — all because the enemy raiding the supply route had not been cleared out. The enemy in the woods must have been in contact with Balasagun; only that could explain how they had ambushed him so precisely.

Ali Dullaf cast a venomous glance to the west. He swore that if he could only get back to Tashkent, he would slaughter Ismail's entire clan to the last man, leaving not one alive!

"Mas'udi, my loyal general, can we still make it back to Tashkent? If I cannot return to Tashkent, the Grand Wazir Balami of Bukhara will surely send his own trusted man to take over Tashkent!"

Ali Dullaf fixed Mas'udi with a burning gaze. He knew he could not run any farther — he had already vomited twice from running just now. If he kept on like this, even if he was not killed, he would certainly collapse from exhaustion.

Mas'udi stood stunned in the cold drizzle for a long moment. He understood what Governor Ali Dullaf meant: he was to stay behind and hold the rear.

Because the military aristocrats of the Tashkent governorate, led by Ali Dullaf, had deep conflicts with the Grand Wazir Balami in the capital of Bukhara.

Balami had several times tried to summon Governor Ali Dullaf to Bukhara so he could send his own trusted man to take over Tashkent, but had never succeeded.

But if Governor Dullaf died in battle this time, then Tashkent would absolutely, one hundred percent, be taken over by someone sent by the Grand Wazir Balami.

And a man like him — a Tashkent military aristocrat counted among Governor Ali Dullaf's trusted men, who had suffered such a crushing defeat and then died in battle himself — would certainly be the designated scapegoat.

Mas'udi knew he had no choice. Because if that happened, his family — his beautiful wives and concubines, his sister, and his well-behaved son — would all be lost, and would surely become someone else's spoils of war.

Only by letting Governor Ali Dullaf return to Tashkent alive could he possibly preserve his family.

"My dear Mas'udi, my brother, rest assured — I will certainly protect your family. I will raise your son, and tell him that his father was a great hero!"

"My lord Wazir, please mount your horse!" Mas'udi bowed crisply to Ali Dullaf, then turned to a crowd of his utterly demoralized comrades and shouted.

"If any of you still wish to keep a warrior's honor, still wish to protect your families, then come with me! Give the horses and food to the others!"

Mas'udi still commanded great respect in the army, and even at this point he managed to gather a force of more than four hundred men willing to hold the rear.

"May God protect you, my brother!" Ali Dullaf's face was wet all over — whether from tears or rain, no one could tell.

"Without me, you cannot return to Tashkent, and you cannot survive. But if you are willing to cooperate with me, then... glory and riches are within reach!"

In the endless fine rain, I, the Duke of Zhang, stood proudly with hands clasped behind my back in the bloody water. Before me stood a burly, big-bearded man — a chiliarch of the Samanid Persian Mustafa army.

The Mustafa army was the fubing militia of Samanid Persia. A man who could rise to the rank of chiliarch in such an army was generally one of some ability, from a family of local great landowners.

Such a man had far more ties and attachments than a bare, penniless common soldier.

"Why are you willing to help me return to Tashkent? We are your enemies!"

The big-bearded chiliarch asked in a low voice. He did not believe this infidel nobleman would be so kind-hearted.

"I know we are enemies. But we also have a common enemy — that Governor of Tashkent, Ali Dullaf.

I think that without that greedy coward Ali Dullaf, you would never have come here to invade us.

So strictly speaking, you are not really my enemy. My enemy is Ali Dullaf — and your enemy is also Ali Dullaf."

Zhang Zhao smiled, lightly wiped the rain from his face, and his voice grew deeper and more seductive.

"And I can also tell you this: Ali Dullaf is already tied down by my soldiers. He cannot get far.

So all you need to do is pour your fury onto the head of that cowardly governor who betrayed you."

At the mention of the name Ali Dullaf, the big-bearded officer's eyes went red.

In this war, he had already lost a younger brother and three of his closest friends — and all of them had died in those final five days of utterly meaningless siege assaults.

Had it not been for Ali Dullaf's betrayal, they might still have died, but they would not have died so meaninglessly.

"Very well, noble dihqan. I am willing to accept your help — as long as you let me kill Ali Dullaf, that cowardly, venomous fox!"

Yan Jin watched Zhang Zhao in puzzlement, and only after the big-bearded officer had walked far away did he speak.

"Duke, that Ali Dullaf is nothing but a wild dog fleeing in panic, already at the end of his rope. We can crush him easily ourselves — why do we need these Warriors of God to help?

And the glory of capturing the enemy commander alive should belong to us. Bai Congxin and Commandant Li have been straining at the bit to win this great merit."

"Of course we don't need these Warriors of God to capture Ali Dullaf. I just want them to get their own people's blood on their hands.

Don't worry! The glory of capturing the enemy commander alive belongs to all the men of the Hanshan Unit. Using these Warriors of God to wear him down a bit isn't a bad thing either!"

Zhang Zhao patted Yan Jin on the shoulder and explained in a low voice, but Yan Jin only looked at him with even greater confusion.

"Lord of the Commandery, do you actually intend to fight all the way to Talas? I see no need for that at all!

Because we simply don't have enough men to garrison that place—unless you're willing to become the Great King or Khagan over the territory from Balasagun to Talas!"

Zhang Zhao was not at all surprised that Yan Jin would say such a thing, because Yan Jin's ultimate dream ran in step with his own.

Zhang Zhao wanted to go back, revive the Guiyi Army, and open the route through Ganzhou and Liangzhou (on the surface), and Yan Jin thought the same way.

Because his greatest wish was to open the Ganzhou-Liangzhou route and then return to Taiyuan once, to carry the spirit tablet of his ancestor Yan Chao back to the Yan family ancestral hall in Taiyuan, and tell all his kinsmen what a hero Yan Chao, the last Military Governor of Hexi under the Great Tang, had been!

Yes, in Yan Jin's heart, although Guo Ziyi had briefly held the Hexi Military Governorship in absentia after the An Lushan Rebellion, that simply did not count, because Guo Ziyi had never once taken up the post.

At the same time, the Zhang family's Guiyi Army had never been granted the office of Military Governor of Hexi, so his ancestor Yan Chao was the last Military Governor of Hexi under the Great Tang.

"Commandant Yan, you know my heart!" Zhang Zhao exclaimed, then on a sudden whim he looked at Yan Chao.

"How about I give you a courtesy name!"

Bestowing a courtesy name was a matter of great importance in ancient times, ordinarily given by a senior of high virtue and prestige to a junior.

Zhang Zhao came of distinguished birth, and was also Yan Jin's superior and benefactor; though younger than Yan Jin, he was certainly qualified.

Yan Jin was thoroughly baffled, but also very pleased. When he had come down from the mountains, only a scattered handful of the Yan family remained; he had not even had a given name, and the name Jin had been given to him by Zhang Zhao. Now to receive a courtesy name—of course he was delighted.

"Among all the brothers under my command, you alone know me, and know my soaring ambition. I too know the great wish in your heart, and understand even better your desire to make the integrity of Lord Yan of Taiyuan known to all.

You carry on the heroic spirit of your ancestors and wish to display their integrity—then let us use the two characters Chengjie, 'Inheritor of Integrity,' as your courtesy name!"

"I thank the Lord of the Commandery! From this day on, I shall be called Yan Chengjie!" Yan Jin immediately performed the grand rite of kneeling on both knees before Zhang Zhao, and Zhang Zhao hurriedly helped him up.

"You two are lord and vassal, yet your bond is that of brothers. From now on, in life and death you share one fate, in wealth and honor alike!"

This was the first time Zhang Zhao had used the words "lord and vassal" without any concealment. Yan Jin, of course, merely thought Zhang Zhao meant the lord of the Guiyi Army Military Governorship. Deeply moved, he trembled ceaselessly in the rain.

"The Lord of the Commandery's treatment of me is as high as the mountains and as deep as the sea. I am resolved to follow the Lord of the Commandery and accomplish the great enterprise!"

"Good! Then I will tell you now: I intend to let these Persian routed troops plunder, and even slaughter, the Karakhanid people west of the city of Asbalas and as far as the city of White Water Hu.

Whether they are Uyghurs, Karluks, or anyone else, they must all be taught a lesson they will never forget!

Best of all, make them abandon the faith they have just converted to!" A ruthless gleam flashed in Zhang Zhao's eyes.

"That way, when the Persians come again, they won't dare act as guides for them anymore. Under such a blood feud, Balasagun will stand firm as a rock!"

All chapters have been cached for you. Download the APP to view them.