Chapter 65: Thunder Before the Storm: A Nation Divided
"I want to express my heartfelt thanks to Falken19, Mustifa_89, no_one_4250, daoist_northsky07, Halil_Barin, Oxzinax, Daoist8ZKfWR, Kameron_Krueger, 00Zero, Nirvana_homeless, and Oxsinus for your incredible support by sending Power Stones to Osman II: Rebirth of a Dynasty! Your encouragement truly motivates me to keep writing and improving this story. I'm deeply grateful for your continued enthusiasm!"
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While dark clouds roamed the sky, tension had become almost palpable in a nomadic camp nestled in the middle of the steppe. Hundreds of tents stood like fortresses amid the swirling sands carried by the wind. The Turkmen chiefs had reached the end of days-long, silent meetings. Each had presented their views, debating what could be done to counter Shah Abbas's tyranny. However, reaching a decisive conclusion was no simple matter. The camp was enveloped in a deep silence; everyone was questioning the long-held strategy of patient waiting.
In the large central tent of the camp, one of the Turkmen leaders, Kara Murat Bey, stood up and took the floor. His piercing gaze and deep voice captured everyone's attention. "You've all heard of Aslan Bey's murder. The Shah's men, my friends, have made their move to snatch away the last remnants of our hope. How much longer will this continue? How much longer will we wait? Will we bow down to this oppression?" he thundered.
From the back of the tent came the calm voice of Şahin Bey. "We will wait, Kara Murat. Every war is won with patience. Yes, Aslan Bey's blood will not go unavenged. But if we act hastily, we risk losing not only our lives but also our tribes."
Murat Bey furrowed his brows and took a step forward. "How long are we supposed to wait under the pretext of patience? We all know Aslan Bey was slain by the Shah's puppets. And yet, no one acts. If we don't unite, Shah Abbas will hunt us down one by one."
As this debate continued, a man standing near the side of the tent listened intently. His name was William, and he appeared to be just another ordinary merchant. However, his silent presence had a subtle yet profound influence on the course of events. William had secretly orchestrated false evidence planted by the Shah's men, ensuring the spread of fear among the Turkmen tribes while subtly channeling this fear into a growing hatred for Shah Abbas.
Sitting beside him, a loyal aide leaned in and whispered, "Master, as you can see, the chiefs' blood is boiling. Many are ready to act, but they need that final push."
With a faint smile, William nodded. "The time has come. With a small spark, we will ignite a fire within this tent. That fire will strike Shah Abbas like lightning in the near future."
Kara Murat spoke once more. "If we don't make a decision here tonight, my fellow chiefs, it may be too late by tomorrow. Shah Abbas grows stronger with every passing moment. What we must do is kindle a counter-fire."
A deep silence descended upon the tent. At that moment, a messenger rushed inside, panting. "My lords! Shah Abbas's new forces are approaching this region. I wanted to bring this to your attention."
The news sent shockwaves through the tent. At this point, the Turkmen chiefs had no time left to retreat. Kara Murat slammed his hand onto the table with a sharp gesture. "If not now, then when? If we do not stand united, Shah Abbas will annihilate not just us, but all our people. Let us begin our preparations. There is no turning back now."
The voices rising from the tent grew louder and louder, heralding the coming storm. Meanwhile, William quietly slipped away from the tent, vanishing into the shadows. Amid all this chaos, only he knew who the true victor would ultimately be.
The heart of Safavid lands, Isfahan, gleamed under the sun with its usual splendor, but beneath this beauty, a sense of unease permeated the palace. The tension was palpable among those gathered in Shah Abbas's throne room, weighed down by news from the Turkmen territories. Seated on his throne, the Shah listened intently to the reports brought by his spy. The expression on his face revealed a calm yet simmering fury.
"Repeat it," Shah Abbas said, his voice low but still brimming with authority. "How dare the Turkmen chiefs defy me?"
The spy bowed his head before responding. "My Shah, we have learned that the chiefs are uniting following Aslan Bey's death. However, there has been no outright rebellion yet. Still, there is considerable unrest in the camps, and this turmoil could turn into a greater problem in the future."
Shah Abbas leaned back slightly in his throne, his fingers tracing the armrest as he fell into deep thought. "Unrest," he repeated mockingly. "It's like a spark waiting to ignite into a blaze. Tell me, who is fanning this spark?"
At that moment, one of the Shah's most trusted viziers, Emir Gazi, entered the room. Tall, broad-shouldered, and with sharp, watchful eyes, he was one of the Shah's most dependable men. After bowing respectfully, he began to speak:
"My Shah, there may be a hand encouraging the Turkmen chiefs' boldness. It could be the work of the Ottomans. However, there also seem to be merchants involved. Aslan Bey's death remains a mystery. When the trail of the assassination is followed, suspicions have centered on the Safavids."
Shah Abbas straightened in his throne and leaned forward. "If this is one of the Ottomans' games, they will pay dearly for it. But first, I must remind the Turkmen who I am."
Taking a deep breath, he raised his voice, which reverberated through the hall like a thunderclap. "I will bring them to their knees. Not one of them will escape my wrath."
He then turned to Emir Gazi. "Begin preparations immediately. I want an army to surround the Turkmen camps. No one must leave there alive. This rebellion will end before it even begins."
As the Shah's resolute words echoed through the stone walls of the palace, Emir Gazi left swiftly to carry out the orders. Yet the Shah's words had reached more than just the ears of his loyal men. In one of the palace's dark corridors, someone hidden among the shadows listened intently to the conversation.
This individual was an agent of Ali—known to the Safavids as William. With a cunning smile on his face, he etched everything he had heard into his memory. The Shah's anger was exactly the response William had anticipated. The agent murmured to himself:
"With this move, Shah Abbas will only solidify the Turkmen chiefs' unity. Two birds with one stone—this will make the Turkmen more reliant on us while dragging the Safavids deeper into this mire."
Without wasting any more time, he moved quickly, setting off to report to Ali, or rather, William. Everything was in place to fan the spark into a flame within the Turkmen camps. While Shah Abbas prepared to unleash his fury like a storm, William remained the unseen wind driving that storm.
Meanwhile, Safavid forces departed from Isfahan, marching to encircle the Turkmen camps. But nothing could have prepared them for the chaos they were about to face. As plans unfolded, it remained uncertain who would emerge victorious in this game of strategy and deceit.
In the vast steppes of the Türkmen tribes, the leaders representing various clans gathered in the courtyard of an ancient caravanserai. The stone walls of the caravanserai echoed back the heated debates with a resonant murmur. Shah Abbas's oppression had greatly increased the tension among the Türkmen people, yet they had not managed to choose a leader. This posed a significant risk to the future of the tribes.
After the death of Aslan Bey, the Türkmen clans had split into two main factions. One faction was more cautious, opposing the idea of going to war with the Safavids. The other group, however, argued that they must rise against Shah Abbas's oppressive regime, no matter the cost. Amid this chaos, a leader needed to emerge.
Among the beys seated at the table, the most striking figure was a tall man with piercing eyes—Kara Halil Bey. Known for his bravery and charisma, Halil Bey was considered the strongest candidate among the Türkmen leaders. However, two other beys at the table, his rivals, displayed a hesitant stance toward his leadership.
"Halil Bey," said one of his rivals, Süleyman Bey. "We respect you, you know that. But war is no simple matter. Our children will die, our lands will be devastated. Who will pay this price?"
Halil Bey leaned forward on the table, his eyes locked onto Süleyman Bey's. "There is no freedom without sacrifice, Süleyman Bey. Shah Abbas is cornering us more and more every day. If we don't unite now, our tribes will be wiped out one by one."
At this moment, the third candidate for leadership, Bilge Emir, who had remained silent until now, spoke. His tone was calm, but it was clear that a calculating mind lay behind his measured words. "You're right, Halil Bey. But uniting alone isn't enough. The Safavids have a powerful army. If we make one wrong move, it will erase us from history. Are you ready to bear that responsibility?"
The atmosphere in the caravanserai grew heavier. Just then, a young man rushed inside with hurried steps. Introducing himself as one of Halil Bey's men, he spoke breathlessly:
"Shah Abbas's army is nearing our borders! Their movement is imminent!"
This news abruptly ended the discussion at the table. Halil Bey paused briefly, then took a deep breath. His voice echoed through every corner of the courtyard.
"This is no longer a debate. We either unite now, or Shah Abbas crushes us one by one."
Süleyman Bey and Bilge Emir exchanged glances for a moment. Finally, Süleyman Bey nodded heavily and spoke: "Very well. We will support you, Halil Bey. But don't forget, the consequences of this decision will be severe."
Bilge Emir, however, remained quieter. Yet his eyes studied Halil Bey with deep contemplation. "Count me in as well. But I will oversee the strategy. Otherwise, this will devolve into nothing more than a blood feud."
This decision quickly resonated among the other beys at the table. Each of them, reluctantly or not, realized they had no choice but to join this alliance. Halil Bey assumed the role of leader, but he would not walk this challenging path alone.
Soon after, all the prominent figures of the tribe gathered outside the caravanserai. Halil Bey stepped forward to address the crowd.
"My brothers! Shah Abbas is coming to take our freedom. But we will not allow it! We will unite, we will be strong, and we will live free on this land!"
The applause and shouts rising from the crowd ignited the first spark of hope the Türkmen tribes had felt in a long time. However, this spark could soon become the herald of a storm.
But there was one thing no one knew. Among the beys attending the meeting was a spy for William. Every move, every decision would be reported back to him. This sinister game lurking in the shadows was only just beginning.