Chapter 220

The current situation was this: Nasr II had three thousand Alka Citadel guards on his side, plus eight thousand ghulams from Herat and Samarkand, and with the noble sons who had come out of the city with him armed up, that added a few hundred more.

Prince Hamid, meanwhile, had stirred up more than fifteen thousand men out of Bukhara, and after subtracting the three thousand needed to hold Bukhara, about twelve thousand followed him out of the city.

The two sides were roughly equal in numbers, but the advantage did not lie with Prince Hamid.

Although he used the pretext of purging evil ministers from the ruler's side, in truth everyone knew that was nonsense — they were simply rebelling.

Rebellion, in any age and any land, is the most thrilling of undertakings. When it goes well, it often produces miracles, but when it goes badly, morale collapses all too easily.

Nasr II occupied the Stone City with numbers equal to Prince Hamid's. If Prince Hamid could not take the Stone City, within a day or two at most his army's morale would plummet.

And at the same time, the El-Saliya standing army and armed iqta levies coming to the ruler's aid from all over would gather, and at that point his defeat would be certain.

Nor was that all. Inside the Alka Citadel there were still two thousand emir guards, and once they figured out the true situation, they would not simply stay holed up defending the Alka Citadel.

Bukhara held more than two hundred thousand people. Whom they would help was also a huge question.

So Prince Hamid could not afford to wait. Time was extremely precious to him.

The first to enter the battlefield were the Bukhara ghulam horse archers.

Although Nasr II had withdrawn into the Stone City, more than ten thousand troops and over a thousand nobles could not all withdraw inside.

If that many people all withdrew into the Stone City, it would be a disaster — if nothing else, the lack of water alone would break them completely.

So after letting five hundred-odd Alka Citadel guards escort Nasr II into the Stone City, the rest of the army formed up outside the Stone City under the organization of their officers.

They also made a point of holding a small path leading to the Namik River, ensuring they would not be cut off from their water source first.

By the time the Bukhara ghulam guard horse archers arrived, the Herat ghulam horse archers had just finished assembling as well.

The horse archers of both sides immediately began battering each other with the same tactics, right there on the hillside ground where they had been feasting together.

There was no probing. After the two sides' horse archers exchanged two volleys, they immediately drew their long swords and closed in to hack at each other.

Right there, where all kinds of splendid banners were still planted and the roasting meat still gave off its aroma, blood flew in all directions — a deeply ironic sight.

While the cavalry were locked in combat, the main body of infantry also arrived. Prince Hamid, desperate for battle, immediately drove his ghulams forward.

Hussein had just been about to counsel caution, but Hamid could no longer heed anything. He had never been so consumed by desire — the desire to sit on the emir's throne at once.

As a result, the Bukhara ghulam guards advanced to a point five or six hundred meters from the hill before most of the men even began donning their armor.

But from the opposite side came a roll of drums, and a dark mass of at least seven or eight hundred fully armored Alka Citadel guard cavalry rode straight out.

"Quick! Form ranks! Spearmen hold steady! Archers prepare saturation fire!"

Hussein, heedless of rank and propriety, shoved Prince Hamid aside and bellowed at the top of his lungs.

Prince Hamid, shoved aside, stood there utterly dumbfounded, his mind nearly shutting down. For the first time he felt that war was nothing like he had imagined.

They still had not donned their armor. If seven hundred fully armored cavalry crashed into them, they might well be smashed straight through!

The dense thrum of bowstrings sounded. Fortunately, the archers Hussein had hastily organized were fairly reliable.

More than two thousand arrows did not fly directly at the armored cavalry, who had already broken into a trot, but were given a bit of lead, saturating the path of the armored cavalry's advance.

Three consecutive volleys of saturation fire had decent effect — at least forty or fifty armored cavalry, their bodies bristling with arrows, toppled to the ground.

But it was of no real use; it could only slow the enemy's speed a little. Losses of less than five percent could not suppress the enemy's charging momentum at all.

As the armored cavalry in their traditional pagoda-shaped pointed iron helmets drew closer and closer, the Bukhara ghulams, who had not had time to don their armor, were compressed flatter and flatter like a sponge.

Piercing screams rose one after another from the front ranks, though these infantry, whose armor was not even fully on, miraculously did not break.

The enemy armored cavalry did not smash into them all at once either, but casualties began mounting at a rate visible to the naked eye, and morale kept falling.

"Your Highness!" Hussein still had considerable courage. He stared fixedly at Prince Hamid.

Prince Hamid knew what he meant. He simply shut his eyes, drew the gold-inlaid, jeweled sword at his waist, and howled, "Warriors, follow me!"

At this moment, only the few hundred personal guards under Prince Hamid had finished donning their armor, and only the prince personally taking the field could steady the line.

And so, at the very front, four or five thousand infantry and more than seven hundred armored cavalry ground together in a death struggle. The infantry, their armor incomplete, were hacked down and stabbed to death, stabbed to death.

The armored cavalry that had charged in, astonishingly, could not break through such an infantry square. They were not shattering the enemy formation at all, but rather relying on their full-body armor to drive their horses forward, pressing ever onward.

Behind them, Nasr II's infantry, their formation loose and ragged, began closing in, shouting slogans.

Behind him, Hussein, having pushed his master to the front, immediately began frantically lashing his own infantry, making them armor up at once and then form a second line of defense on the spot.

This truly was a chaotic battle! One side came charging in with desperate haste, the other frantically organized its defense.

Both sides perfectly displayed what one might call the excellent matchmaking mechanisms of Transoxiana. A battle of nearly thirty thousand men, astonishingly, turned into a tangled brawl from the very start.

Nasr II's armored guard cavalry, miraculously, could not break through an infantry square with only partial armor.

And Prince Hamid was no better. The Bukhara ghulams, their armor not even fully on, were dragged by him straight to the front to take a heavy blow.

If anyone said this was not Crouching Dragon and Young Phoenix dancing online together, Bai Congxin would be the first to disbelieve it.

"Commandant, do we go in now? That Persian princeling looks like he's about to fold!" Ma Shacai stood on his warhorse, gazing into the distance.

"What's the rush! Send two men out first, to report to the Great King: there is no trap, Prince Hamid and his father have already started fighting!"

Bai Congxin sneered and shook his head, then pointed at Prince Hamid's great banner in the distance.

"See that? It's been squeezed flat, but the banner has not retreated. He won't collapse just yet. Let them fight a while longer — the ones dying are all Persians. Surely you don't feel sorry for them?"

Although in the eyes of Bai Congxin and Ma Shacai these two armies were flailing about like Crouching Dragon and Young Phoenix, for Prince Hamid this was the cruelest bloodbath he had ever witnessed.

The two armies, wearing nearly identical equipment, fought with every ounce of strength they had, because this was unlike fighting an external enemy, where defeat only meant losing your own life — or even keeping it, by becoming a captive or being absorbed into the victor's ranks.

But not this time. What both sides had staked was not just themselves, but their families as well. Whichever side lost, from wives and children to parents, all would be utterly purged.

While the great battle raged outside the city, inside the city was no easier.

Bukhara was divided into three parts: the South City, the North City, and the Alka Citadel. The Alka Citadel was a city within the city of Bukhara, with high walls and thick ramparts, and even its own independent moat system.

So even though Prince Hamid had stirred up the ghulam guards in the city to rebellion, he could only control the South City and the North City. The Alka Citadel, still guarded by more than two thousand guards, remained beyond his reach.

And inside the Alka Citadel, the person in the most difficult position was the emir's queen, Aishe.

She was several years younger than Prince Hamid, yet very close to him, because she was the half-sister of Prince Hamid's deceased mother — same father, different mother.

This queen was exceedingly beautiful and deeply favored by Emir Nasr II. She and her daughter, Princess Sefiye, were Prince Hamid's most steadfast supporters in the inner palace.

It could be said that Prince Hamid had managed to hold on until now under Nasr II's suspicion first by controlling the ghulams of Bukhara, and second through the support of Queen Aishe and her daughter.

"Safiye, my daughter, what are we to do now? Your elder brother has already begun fighting with your father. What are we to do?"

Princess Safiye was fourteen this year, a renowned sprite of the Alka Forbidden City — sweet-faced, intelligent, and well-mannered, beloved by all, including Nasr II.

"My mother, I think we have no other choice. If I had not come myself, I do not think the guards outside would have let anyone through!"

Though only fourteen, having grown up in the oppressive palace environment of Nasr II, Princess Safiye already had some understanding of politics.

"You mean—?" Queen Aishe trembled all over.

"I am the queen! How dare they treat me this way? The traitor is your elder brother, not me!"

Princess Safiye sighed helplessly. "Mother, everyone knows we are supporters of Brother Hamid, but the guards of the Alka Forbidden City are not.

If Brother Hamid succeeds, these guards — especially the officers — will lose all their positions and wealth, and perhaps even their lives."

"They have already made their attitude clear to you, haven't they?" Queen Aishe had also keenly sensed the implication behind Princess Safiye's words.

"Yes!" Princess Safiye nodded.

"The generals of the palace guard hope that you will go out and persuade the ghulam guards outside, at least to make them remain neutral, so that the city guards can leave the city and join the battle!"

Queen Aishe was stunned for a long while, then her body trembled slightly, uncontrollably.

"But... but I have no son! Only you and your younger sister, two daughters. If your elder brother is gone, my daughter, who will we have to rely on in the future?"

Princess Safiye fell silent as well. That her mother, Queen Aishe, had no son was precisely the reason they mother and daughter gave their full support to Prince Hamid.

If one day Nasr II passed away, a queen without a son would not have many good days ahead.

"Mother, we have no choice. Though the princes of the Alka Forbidden City have all gone to attend the Eid al-Fitr, the consorts in the city are still here. They all have family living in Bukhara, and the palace guard can act in their names as well.

Brother has no chance of victory. Father has long been on guard against him. There are two thousand well-equipped palace guards here, and the retainers of the nobles in Bukhara can also muster several thousand men."

As she spoke, a few glistening teardrops suddenly slid from Princess Safiye's bright eyes.

"I do not understand. Brother has only the support of some ghulams in his hands. How did he dare launch a rebellion so directly? And he did not reveal even the slightest hint to us — we supported him so much!"

"Very well! It seems we can only choose the less despairing of two dead ends. Summon the palace guard officers in. I agree!"

A few minutes later, Queen Aishe made her choice. She chose to stand with her husband.

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