The Sky Worshipers

by F. M. Deemyad

  The Mongols repeatedly struggled to reach the summit, failing in every attempt. The mountain was simply too steep and treacherous. During one such attempt, horses slipped, and riders fell; screams were heard, but the Mongol cavalry continued its forward progression. Finally, as they approached the gates of the main citadel, cauldrons of hot oil greeted the first few who had dared to reach the gates. For every Mongol soul that was lost, Hulagu’s anger rose until it reached a fever pitch.

  “They shall pay for putting us through this,” he hissed and found no other way but to retreat.

  Finally, Hulagu resorted to the age-old Mongol tactic of waiting out the enemy. He decided to surround the fortifications and wait through the duration of winter until the residents of the citadel ran out of food. As days turned into weeks, life became unbearable for those perched high up on the mountain. The Mongols feasted on slain beasts that they roasted over fires. The wind carried the smell of cooked food to the hungry men and women within the rocky fortifications.

  “I have been sent down here to speak with you, sir,” a thin man with a turban of striped black and white cotton finally came down to meet Hulagu. “I have urged the residents of the citadel to surrender themselves, for I understand the power and the resolve of the Mongols, something they do not seem to recognize. Now it appears as though they have agreed to abide by my advice.”

  “Who are you to address me directly and so fearlessly?” Hulagu asked.

  “I have lived my life sir, and the few remaining years of it are not much to cause fear of death within me,” the man said, his white hair and beard attesting to the credibility of his statement.

  “Wisely spoken,” Hulagu said, “but you are yet to introduce yourself.”

  “I am a scholar from the city of Tus. They know me by the name of Khajeh Naseer or in short, Tusi. I beg you to hear me out. Spilling the blood of the innocent will only bring you infamy. If you seek glory, spare the lives of women and children, the innocents, who are trapped in the compound.”

  “Tusi,” Hulagu repeated, “I like that name but are you not one of them?” he asked, pointing upward at the mountain fortifications.

  “No, I am a mere captive of theirs, kept like a bird in a cage under conditions that truly suppress my soul,” Tusi said, his eyes shining. “When the City of Neyshabur was placed under siege during the early years of Mongol reign, my wife and I were given refuge here. What enticed me initially were the numerous manuscripts held at the Alamut’s magnificent library. I realized too late that leaving the fortifications was not as easy as entering it.”

  “Why is it that they have sent you as an emissary?” Hulagu asked.

  “Under siege, the Grand Master of the fortress saw no alternative but to seek my aid. He knew I would return to him, for my wife is still held there. I told him, sir, that we are facing an inferno that would spare no one as it passes through the walls of the citadel. I also added that I had spent my life in austerity to gain wisdom, and that wisdom tells me that under the circumstances that we are in today, the only way would be to submit to the rule of this superior army.”

  “How would I know that you speak the truth?” Hulagu asked.

  “I studied the science of my time in the city of Neyshabur, and I am well-known for my capabilities there. The Hashishins or as you say, ‘the Assassins’ lured me into their citadel, and I have been held captive by them ever since. I feel no sorrow for my captors, but there are a number of women and children living within the structure. I understand, sir, your intentions to subdue the Assassins, but I implore you to spare the lives of the innocents who are there at no will or design of their own.”

  The man’s plea impressed Hulagu, but he tried not to show it. The scholar had gentle manners, spoke wise words, and had a noble countenance. “How can we reach our objective with minimum loss of life?” he asked.

  “Allow me, sir, if you will. Maybe I can convince the powerful men within the compound to surrender.”

  “All I need is for the Grand Master to surrender himself. Tell him I will spare his life and that of his family if he does so before the sun sets. I will allow the women and children to leave, but those who have and continue to resist us or have Mongol blood on their hands will receive the most severe punishment,” Hulagu stated sternly.

  After hours of back and forth negotiations with the old man climbing the mountain and descending it with the last of his strength, the Grand Master yielded. The men remaining within the fortifications were forced to surrender as well. The Mongols triumphantly crossed the threshold of the citadel, facing little resistance. They swiftly cut down the few who chose to resist by taking part in hand-to-hand combat with their powerful, well-trained foes. Tusi remained in his chamber during the battle and looked surprised to find the great Mongol warrior at his very door.

  “Do you drink this brew?” Hulagu asked as he sniffed a container that smelled like wine.

  “They are for my scientific experiments,” Tusi replied, smiling.

  Hulagu walked around Tusi’s chamber, picked up one of his books and looking at the strange drawings asked, “What is this that you write? It is not in any language that I have ever seen before.”

  “It is a branch of mathematics that is called Trigonometry.”

  “Does Trigonometry have military applications?” Hulagu asked.

  “Trigonometry affects every aspect of life.”

  “And what type of contraption is this?” the Mongol Commander asked, looking at a large metal device.

  “It is an instrument through which I observe the stars,” the scholar replied.

  “Can you read the signs from the stars for the most auspicious times for attacks?” Hulagu asked.

  “I am no soothsayer, sir,” Tusi replied, “but I can demonstrate to you the importance of science in practice and what knowledge can do for mankind.” He then picked up a glass jar from a nearby shelf and dropped it in front of them, shattering it. Hulagu just watched, obviously wondering what the old man was trying to prove.

  “You are not startled, sir, for you are aware of my action, and you are confident that it is a harmless move. Had this same act happened in the dark, taking you off guard, it would have surely alarmed you. Science is light. It illuminates our path, allowing us to see what is otherwise obscure.”

  Hulagu touched the long metal tube tilted toward the sky. He moved his finger across the round glass piece at the tip of the tube.

  “We do share the love of the eternal sky,” Hulagu said, as if talking to himself.

  “But we see it in two different ways,” Tusi said. “You see it as a supernatural being to be worshiped, and I see it as an open space to be explored. My contributions are to all humanity, and my struggles are for the promotion of science.” Tusi looked around his chamber, and as if realizing for the first time that he was no longer a prisoner to the Assassins, he added, “I have suffered long and hard during over two decades of virtual captivity within these fortifications, sitting like a jewel upon a ring of despair.”

  “You are a jewel indeed,” Hulagu smiled in admiration, “and you can be of great assistance to me. I have found you, Tusi, quite an intelligent man.” Hulagu then looked straight at the scientist and added, “I would like you to serve me as an advisor at my palace or accompany me during my missions.”

  “Do I have a choice to refuse the offer?” Tusi asked, looking nervous.

  “My decisions are not subject to the will of others. Consider it an order,” Hulagu replied sternly.

  “I suppose it is not difficult for one to leave one form of captivity for another,” Tusi said, looking crestfallen.

  “No one dares to address me in such a way. But I have to admit, I admire your audacity, and your honesty and integrity have had a bearing on my decision to retain you as an advisor as I move against Baghdad.”

  “You are a world conqueror, sir,” Tusi replied, �
�and I am not a man of war, nor a schemer of strategy and concocter of tactics needed to achieve victory. I know my opinions will have no bearing on your ambition to conquer the world. Of all the things that God has created, what interests me most is the vast sky. At night, I look through my instruments at planetary rotations, the stellar formations, and the wonders of the universe. All I want is access to scientific manuscripts, and a means to observe the stars, an observatory.”

  “And all I want from you is that you provide me with the clarity you speak of, at times when matters become obscure. You will have access to all the amenities that you seek in order to monitor the stars. I will build an observatory that will not only house your current instruments but any future ones that our engineers can build for you. I intend to bring scientists and men of knowledge from every part of the world to assist you in your endeavors. In addition, all the manuscripts containing scientific information that are held within the compound’s libraries will be at your disposal. But before you gain access to them, you have to learn to obey my command.”

  “Yes sir, I understand,” the genius replied. “I also know that at one point wars will end, and humanity would need the light of knowledge to continue. I can help you when the day comes that you would need to administer the conquered lands and oversee the welfare of the inhabitants.”

  When Hulagu left, Tusi’s wife, Narges Khanoom, who said she had heard their exchanges from her small bedroom chamber, objected. Age hadn’t erased traces of beauty from her face. Her long braids, white as that of her husband’s beard, embellished her floral house-gown.

  “Are you going to collaborate with those Mongols against the Caliph of Baghdad? Are you not a man of piety who seeks wisdom through living austerely? Do you now seek to use such wisdom against Providence?”

  “It is not Providence,” Tusi replied, “that is bringing Baghdad to its knees. It is the Caliph’s vanity, his false notion of invincibility, and his want of wisdom that is soon to unleash the Mongol tidal wave. Let the detractors say what they may. The observatory is my hermitage where I can find solace and focus on the future because it is my hope that through my discoveries and contributions, the world will one day witness an age of enlightenment.”

  “Are you telling me that you condone this war?”

  “Far from it,” Tusi replied resolutely. “It is just not within my power to prevent it. I see the matter as inevitable, for large parts of Europe are already devastated by the Mongols. China is under their rule, so is Persia, and Baghdad is the only remaining power. The Mongols will not rest until they conquer it. My only hope is to prevent a large number of casualties and mitigate the intensity of the war.”

  “This is just so hard for me to accept,” she said, looking miserable.

  “I am wise enough to distinguish between that which is inevitable and that which can be changed. I know there will be those who will belie me and even blame me for the actions of Hulagu and the invasion of Baghdad. But in acceptance of this responsibility, I was not given a choice. It is not that I value my life more than my human obligation. But I do know that the loss of my life will not change Hulagu’s mind about what he is determined to do. It will merely deprive the world of any scientific contributions I am able to make during my lifetime and take away any chance I may have at mitigating crises.”

  His wife just looked at him with concern and sympathy in her eyes.

  Lifting his finger as if reading the mind of the woman who had shared his joys and sorrows for decades he said, “I will use whatever power that is vested in me to dissuade Hulagu from carrying out his most brutal missions, and to promote the proper administration of conquered lands to preserve as many lives as possible.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The Siege of Baghdad

  1258 C.E.

  La Elaha Elallah, the familiar chant of “There is no God but One God” was heard as the funeral procession carried the body of a deceased man in mid-afternoon through the main streets and alleys of Baghdad. What would have normally attracted some attention received little notice, however, since a greater calamity would soon befall the inhabitants of the city. News of the impending war had already spread from mouth to mouth and from town to town.

  The mourners carried the body, shrouded in white, stopping only when they reached the door of the Grand Mosque. The pallbearers had wrapped keffiyeh around their heads, covering their faces save for their eyes.

  One man slipped away and placed a note which everyone assumed to be the location of the funeral service on the door of Baghdad’s main prayer hall. People ignored the writing for they were bound to see it during evening prayers.

  One of the mourners chanted the names of God and prayers for the dead in fluent Arabic. But as the wind blew aside his shawl, he displayed features not seen in those parts. Lucky for him, only one street vendor seemed to have noticed this when he looked up and stared at him for a moment or two, but the matter was so subtle that it was quickly overshadowed by the incredible news of war on the horizon.

  As the sound of Adhan called for evening prayers and people flocked to the main prayer hall, a handful got close enough to read the posted message:

  To the people of Baghdad:

  After sending several delegations, communicating our desire that the Caliph must pay regular tributes to the Mongols, and each offer being flatly rejected, this final missive is dispatched by Hulagu Khan to the Caliph and the inhabitants of Baghdad. Resistance will be futile. Any assemblage to confront the Mongols will be crushed. Therefore, I urge all citizens to refrain from any attempt to gather with the intention of warding off the newcomers or resisting their command. In due time, provided the inhabitants fully submit to Mongol wishes, Baghdad will be allowed partial autonomy.

  Signed –Hulagu, Commander of the Mongol Forces

  Despite the numerous territories conquered by the Mongols, Hulagu had remained unsatisfied, his grandfather’s task being left unfinished. He wanted the Mongol banner raised in every capital of the world, and his craving for revenge against those who had defied him remained unfulfilled. He had found the idea of a European invasion quite tempting, yet, the riches of the Muslim world had prompted him to look eastward toward Persia and Baghdad.

  Hulagu was heir to an empire and like the child of the practitioner of medicine who strives to be like his father or the offspring of a sailor who grows up dreaming of becoming the captain of a ship, Hulagu envisioned expanding the territories that his grandfather, Genghis, had conquered.

  As he stood under a burning torch in the Mongol encampment outside of Baghdad, it appeared as if flames were bursting from his head and his crown was on fire. He addressed the most prominent members of his inner circle in his husky voice.

  “There are those who claim that the Mongol Empire is on the decline. I shall teach them that my grandfather’s reign is not over yet, and the Mongols are alive and well. I will watch with pleasure when the day comes that I defeat my foes. I will pull the rug from underneath them so hard that they will fall and break their crowns,” he proclaimed loud enough for the large crowd congregated around him to hear.

  He paused as if enjoying the sound of silence as all held their breath not to miss a single word of their commander’s speech. He then added, triumphantly, “We shall empower the minorities in order to sow discord among the inhabitants. The Christians who live there have been devoted to their homeland and many of their young men may be inclined to join forces with the Caliph. But there are disgruntled ones among them, and we shall be able to create division within the ranks of the defenders. We will enter Baghdad as liberators of the Christian minority.”

  Trepidation cast its shadow upon the Caliph’s land as the war commenced. On the 29th of January 1258, to the sound of drums, the Mongols proceeded toward the gates of the city. Siege engines stood tall at the barrier walls, allowing the Mongols access to their enemies. With their scouts and spies informing the
m ahead of time regarding the Caliph army’s capabilities and weaknesses, they moved fast and ferocious, inflicting irreparable damage on their foes at the onset of war. The defenders of Baghdad who lacked the resources they had repeatedly requested from the Caliph and were denied, found themselves facing a well-trained, sophisticated army.

  A reddish hue had formed on the horizon. Ashen clouds sprinkled with a mixture of copper rays from the sun, lazily rolled from one side to the other, little heeding the calamity that was taking place below as if tired of the atrocities of men against men. It was another bloody chapter in human history that nature had no desire to witness. No animal, no natural disaster could do unto man what he could do unto his own.

  Each side pitched their standard. The Mongols lifted their sulde ornamented with yak tails, and the defending army displayed red flags bearing a black crescent and star. Each side saw the other as the personification of the fiend or some evil omen. Steam rose from the dilated nostrils of Mongol war horses as their front hooves rose at the command of their riders. Their eyes bulged, but their hind legs remained firmly on the ground, ready to take on the Caliph’s army. The Mongols had meandered through the hills and valleys of the land like wild waters. With stealthy moves unprecedented in the history of the region until that time, they crept up to enemy lines. They broke embankments, flooding the land behind the army of the Caliph.

  Hatchets beheaded fallen warriors who were wounded by the sword. Flames destroyed what swords could not. A great civilization was brought to its knees, its wealth stolen, its dignity crushed. Grazing lands and forests were set afire as the Caliph’s Empire turned to dust.