Chapter 22: Visit to Ghazna

The Gujaratis were fascinated by the size and style of Shakranta's small fleet of ships. They had not seen anything like them before. His leading ship was a hundred cubits long, its hull comprising several layers of planks assembled without a single nail. Its builders had long and faithfully adhered to that rule as a matter of tradition, with not a small measure of superstition thrown in. Instead, the fastening was achieved by the use of lugs lashed with coconut husk rope, the planks then caulked with tree resin.

Devoid of any outrigger, the vessel was rigged with many masts and sails, to enable it to cope with the challenges of sailing straight across the ocean that lay between the Golden Peninsula and India. It was built to carry fifteen thousand pikul of cargo.

Six crates of assorted spices along with five crates of Langkasukan swords and a small crate of keris, the mystical wavy bladed dagger of the Malay people, were kept in a warehouse in Gujarat port, for Shakranta to take along with him to the entrepot city of Gumarun in Persia. The spices and swords would fetch prices many times their original cost there, while at the same time helping position Shakranta, representing the Dharmakusuma family, as a new player in the region. While the keris would be presented to royalty, selected dignitaries, potential business partners and close friends as a special gift.

The spices, especially pepper, had become a highly sought after commodity among the Arabs, the Persians and the Byzantines, the well to do among whom had recently acquired a taste for the exotic foodstuff from Suvarna Dvipa, the Golden Islands of the Far East. So much so that merchants in Arabia and Persia had taken to calling the new merchandise farmed gold, even as the islands themselves increasingly turned into a battleground in the constantly shifting contest for power, influence and resources between homegrown kingdoms, both agrarian and maritime, and foreign trading kingdoms from further afield.

While the swords, forged by Langkasukan Malay swordsmiths using the best grade of steel from the furnaces of Bujang Valley in Kedah Negara, had for centuries been a product of great renown among Arab and Persian traders. The Arabs had called the blade Saif al-Hind, or so called Sword of India, believing for a while that it was a true product of India, since it was the Tamil merchants of Southern India who had been their regular suppliers. By the time they knew better, the name had stuck and nobody seemed to mind, especially since it had functioned more or less like a seal of good quality.

§

Mahmud's father Sebuk Tigin was an Oghuz prince born in a hamlet near Lake Issyk-Kul, captured as a child by brigands when he was wandering alone in the town's suburbs and sold as a slave in Bokhara. Sebuk Tigin was bought by Alp Tigin, then a leading commander in the Samanid army, who had married a Samanid princess. Sebuk Tigin eventually married a daughter of Alp Tigin. Mahmud had avidly followed in the warrior footsteps of his father, eventually becoming a general himself. His soldiers comprised the best fighters from Persian, Oghuz, Arab, Pushtun, Khilji, Punjabi, Uzbek and Kyrgiz tribes.

"Prince Shakranta!" Sultan Mahmud greeted Shakranta warmly on his entry into the royal audience hall. "For so long have I waited for you. Your name has been talked about by all the traders and merchants from the South East."

"You flatter me too generously, Your Majesty," Shakranta replied. "I'm certainly nowhere near the same league as you. I'm only a puny sparrow in the eagle's shadow, a little mackerel in the shark's wake."

"Oh, come on, young prince," the Sultan countered. "You're just being too humble. We have heard a lot about your prowess. In commerce, as well as on the battlefield. Let me introduce you to two of my most promising young generals. This one is General Tegrud, from the steppes of Turkestan, and this other one is general Ashgar, from the plains of Persia." 

Shakranta berjabat tangan dengan dua Panglima Muda itu. Apabila berdiri menghadap Panglima Ashgar, di antara keduanya seperti saling terpegun seketika.

“Pingat rantai di dada Tuan itu,” Panglima Ashgar bersuara.

“Di dada Tuan juga,” balas Shakranta.

“Asalnya … daripada Panglima Marduniya, bukan?" sambung Panglima Ashgar.

"Kira-kiranya ... begitulah," jawab Shakranta. "Melalui seorang anak gadisnya ... Puteri Mardunisa."

"Bererti kita berdua saudara sezuriat … daripada Panglima Marduniya.”

“Dan dengan itu daripada Vishtashpa, Dahyu Ka … dan seterusnya hinggalah ke Raja Kambhujiya.”

"Itu baru di sebelah ibunya Puteri Ardu Zaustri yang berdarah Parsi. Kalau dikira di sebelah bapanya Panglima Gaubaru yang berdarah Madayu pula, ia membawa kita kepada raja-raja Madayu."

“Sungguh mengagumkan. Tidak hamba terduga ... akan bertemu dengan seorang saudara sezuriat dari negeri yang begitu jauh hari ini."

“Begitu juga di pihak hamba,” Shakranta mengiyakan. “Puteri Brndusha, gadis Trakya, memang membawa tuah gemilang kepada Panglima Marduniya."

“Ya," Panglima Ashgar menyambung. "Tuah yang tercipta dengan kelahiran Puteri Mardunisa. Kerana zuriat Puteri Mardunisa bernikah kahwin dan beripar-duai dengan kerabat Wangsa Hakhamanesh. Zuriatnya berkembang ... dengan pelbagai raja dan wangsa yang silih berganti.”

“Hingga akhirnya … di zaman Wangsa Sassan … seorang cucu cicit Puteri Mardunisa … Putera Ardavaz namanya … merantau ke Pulau Singhala dan di sana bertemu dengan Putera Buddhagupta dari negeri Benggala … seterusnya mereka berdua belayar ke Semenanjung Emas ... akhirnya menjadi seorang nenek moyang hamba.”

"Ehem," Sultan Mahmud berdehem. "Begitu asyiknya kamu berdua bercerita tentang zuriat yang terkongsi bersama, hinggakan terlupakan Beta pula. Rasa Beta ... Putera Shakranta belum lagi menyedari ... tentang begitu ramainya zuriat Raja Kambhujiya ... di Ghazna dan seluruh wilayah naungannya."

"Oh, Ampun Tuanku," Panglima Ashgar tersentak. "Patik terleka. Err ... Tuan Putera Shakranta ... untuk makluman Tuan ... Tuanku Sultan Mahmud ... serta Panglima Tegrud juga ... adalah titisan zuriat Raja Kambhujiya."

"Kerana orang Kambhoja ... iaitu cucu cicit Raja Kambhujiya ... adalah kaum berjiwa pengembara," Panglima Tegrud menyelit. "Maka titisan zuriat mereka berkembang ke pelbagai hala."

"Itu memang benar. Hingga ke Suvarna Bhumi dan Suvarna Dvipa, termasuk bumi Langkasuka, pun ada keturunan mereka."

§

The ship lurched forward, the ocean parting before its prow. Then, like a giant cradle, it began to roll and dip to the spellbinding, hypnotic beat of the waves, rocking and lulling the exhausted Shakranta, slowly but surely, into a dozy stupor. Coaxing him to surrender his tired body, his fatigued mind, his entire self, to the bliss of undisturbed peace.

The merchandise he had brought in several ships from Amdan Negara had been all sold in Gujarat a few months earlier. The ships had sailed back from Gujarat to Amdan Negara laden with goods from Ghazna, Gujarat itself, the Deccan, Bokhara and Persia. The goods would be picked up and handled on their arrival in Amdan Negara by his mother and his two uncles. While he himself had stayed behind to explore further trade opportunities in the region and develop business networks to activate the most viable ones among them.

§

As Mahmud strode onward, the press of warriors parted before him. Persian, Turkmen, Tartar, they all revered him to a man.

§

“Prince Shakranta," Sultan Mahmud spoke.

"We are planning to invade the city of Soma Natha. We know from your friends General Ashgar and General Tegrud, that you would adore fighting in battle with our army. We invite you to join the force we have assembled for the Soma Natha campaign."

"Lord Sultan. Thank you so much. I can't even begin to say how honoured I feel."

"Good.We shall attack through the Thar desert. This time, we shall make all of them Muslim. Either they submit, and they shall have peace, or they perish.”

"But what about me, Lord Sultan?" Shakranta queried. "I'm no Muslim either."

"As you are a friend of ours, a true friend, we shall make an exception for you. But I dearly hope that one day you will be a Muslim brother." And then he paused.

"You wanted to say something, Lord, and then you stopped."

"Yes, Prince Shakranta," the king continued. "Just something trivial now. You told me earlier that you are closely related to Mahipala, high king of the Pala Dynasty of Bhangala."

"I am, Lord. My late father, he was a close relative of Mahipala, on the side of his mother, my grandmother. She was, in fact a niece of Mahipala. Is that going to be a problem?"

"Well, it could have been, but I'm glad that it is not going to be. Mahipala did not join the Hindu coalition assembled by his relative, Ananda Pala of the Shahi Dynasty. So, not much chance of the two of us ever coming face to face in battle."

§

So, tell me about the Golden Temple, young man," Sultan Mahmud spoke to Yusufzai, the newly converted Pushtun adventurer from Kabul who had previously spent some time in Soma Natha.

The Golden Temple had the stone statue of an idol, Soma Natha, Protector of the Moon God, after whom the elegant building, as well as the city that housed it, was named. The statue hung in the air, in the middle of the temple, touching neither any surface nor any substance. Nothing held it in place, except the air in which it floated. It was the ultimate magic, a miracle that defied the explanation of any scholar, far or near.

"Naah," Mahmud scoffed. "I'm sure there's a logical explanation. Raihan should be able to give that. Someone, get Raihan to come here immediately."

"Well, Karimzai, don't just stand there," the Captain on Duty spoke to a Pushtun palace guard nearest to him. "Go search for al-Beiruni. Tell him His Majesty wishes for him to present himself here. Right now!"

Anyway, the Hindus held it in the highest esteem. Whoever beheld it floating as such was surely struck first with disbelief, then with reverent awe and amazement, be he Hindu, Musulman or otherwise.

The Hindus believed that the temple was first built with gold by Chandra, the Moon God, after he had his curse partially lifted by Lord Shiva. A curse given by Chandra’s father in law Daksha, to punish him for being overly arrogant about his beauty, which caused the moon to wane, completely. Shiva’s intervention then made the moon wane only periodically.

"Bollocks!" Mahmud retorted. "Great story ... but all complete bollocks. It just amazes me ... the sheer number of people who continue to fall for this kind of crap."

The temple was then adorned further, they claimed, with silver by the demon Ravana, with sandalwood by Sri Krishna, and with stone by Bhima Deva, king of Gujarat, of Solanki dynasty.

"Bollocks again. Except maybe for the part about Bhima Deva."

The Hindus would go to Soma Natha during a lunar eclipse, whence they would gather to exceed many score thousands. They believed that their souls would meet there after separation from their bodies, to be incorporated by Lord Soma Natha in other bodies as and when he deems suitable, in keeping with their doctrine of transmigration. The ebb and flow of the tide, which others believed to be simply the work of the moon, they considered to be the worship paid to Lord Soma Natha by the sea.

"Now, what can I say to that?"

The most precious of all goods they brought there as offerings, and ten thousand villages was endowed to the temple. Between the Ganges, which they hold as sacred, and Soma Natha, the distance separating the two is two hundred parasangs (yojanas?). Every day they would bring water from this river to the temple, and bathe the temple in that water. A thousand pious brahmana served in worship of Lord Soma Natha, while five hundred pretty temple damsels sang and danced in welcome to the visitors, their expenses paid for from the temple’s endowments.

"I don't think we'd have much need for the brahmana, my friend. But the damsels ... now then ... that would be something else. What say you, Tegrud?"

"Oh. I do not dare to think such wicked thoughts, Lord Sultan" Tegrud answered with a straight face. But there was just that tiny gleam in his eyes, Shakranta thought.

The temple’s edifice rose on fifty six pillars of the best teak wood, covered with lead. The shrine of Lord Somanatha himself was dark, but lit by the most expensive jeweled chandeliers. A golden chain weighing 200 maunds hung nearby.

§

“To my dear friend, Shakranta, Supreme Ruler of Amdan Nagara.

It has been a long time since We had the pleasure of your friendship and companionship. You, We, General Ashgar and General Tegrud, we all walked and talked together, ate, drank and fought together, in Ghazna and also in Byzantium, as well as out there in those foreign battlefields, in Soma Natha Punjab. I shall always remember with fondness those great times we all shared together.

       

§

"Mother," Shakranta said. "I'm going to Ghazna only to start some trade, make some friends. Not to find a bride."

“Well, if you marry a girl from there, her family and her relatives will be our friends, and also our potential trade partners,” Kembang Sri Wangi countered.

“You’re absolutely right, Mother. But I can’t promise you that things will turn out the way you’d like them to.”

“Oh, never mind then. Just do your best, all right?”

“All right, Mother.”

§

“Tuanku seperti begitu membenci musuh-musuh Tuanku di wilayah utara Benua Hindi,” ujar Shakranta.

“Ummm, Beta penganut ajaran Islam. Beta sekadar menunaikan kewajipan Beta sebagai seorang raja Muslim … untuk berusaha mengembangkan shiar Islam dengan sebaik-baiknya. Serangan-serangan bala tentera Ghazna terhadap wilayah mereka bukan terpacu oleh sebarang dendam ataupun kebencian, tetapi oleh tuntutan dan tanggungjawab.”

“Tetapi naluri Kita seperti terasa bahawa ada sesuatu yang lebih daripada itu.”

“Tuan seorang yang bijaksana, Putera Shakranta. Baiklah. Memang ada perkara lain yang sedikit sebanyak mempengaruhi perasaan Beta.”

“Pertempuran di antara Sudakh Shina dan Arjuna, bukan? Dendam kusumat yang tak kunjung padam di antara orang Kambhoja dan Wangsa Ikshvaku ... di antara zuriat Sudakh Shina dan cucu cicit Arjuna.”

“Tepat sekali. Sudakh Shina yang telah menumpaskan Arjuna dengan begitu handalnya semasa bertempur mendada, bertentang muka, satu lawan satu, menentang Arjuna. Namun, dia dibunuh dengan cara yang begitu dayus oleh Arjuna, dipanah dari belakang, demi menghalang pihak Kambhoja dan Kaurava daripada beroleh kemenangan ke atas puak Pandava. Pahlawan mana yang tidak terkilan dengan perbuatan sebegitu?”

Shakranta terdiam sejenak. Ada benarnya juga kata-kata Sultan Mahmud itu, fikirnya.

“Maka … barang siapa pahlawan yang di dalam tubuhnya mengalir darah Raja Kambhujiya dan Putera Sudakh Shina … termasuk Beta, Panglima Ashgar dan mungkin juga Panglima Tegrud ... serta Tuan Putera sendiri ... harus ingat itu hingga ke akhir zaman!”

§        §        §

“Seorang kesatria sejati sentiasa berusaha supaya mahir dalam segala jenis ilmu. Dia cermat dan nekad dalam setiap tugas. Juga jujur dan murah hati. Serta mudah berbuat kawan, tidak gemar mencari musuh dan sukar berdengki atau iri hati.”

§        §        §

Shakranta bertemu saudagar-saudagar Parsi dan juga Turki Seljuk di Patani. Mereka bercerita tentang Sultan Mahmud raja Ghazna dan kemaraan Islam di wilayah-wilayah utara Benua Hindi. Shakranta amat tertarik dengan cerita-cerita mereka, terutamanya berhubung kejayaan hebat Mahmud menundukkan raja-raja Hindu di barat laut dan utara Benua Hindi.

Kebangkitan Mahmud bermula selepas dia menewaskan abangnya dalam perang saudara.

Shakranta membawa kayu gaharu, keris Langkasuka, gading gajah, rempah ratus, sutera Cina dan lain-lain lagi ke Ghazna sebagai hadiah kepada Mahmud.

Shakranta berada di Ghazna hampir dua tahun. Dia belajar bahasa Hindi, Greek, Turki dan Parsi serta mempertingkatkan kemahirannya menonggang dan menjaga kuda. Tentera Ghazna penunggang kuda yang hebat.

Suatu hari …

“Shakranta,” Mahmud menyapa Shakranta selepas sarapan pagi. “Beta bercadang ingin berkunjung ke Konstantinople. Sudah lama beta tidak ke sana. Sudikah kamu ikut ke sana bersamaku?”

“Konstantinople?” Balas Shakranta terperanjat. “Patik dengar ia kota yang hebat, Tuanku. Ajakan Tuanku ini ialah sesuatu yang paling menguja. Kecil tapak tangan, nyiru hamba tadahkan.”

“Ya. Konstantinople. Dulu dipanggil orang Byzantium. Ibu kota kerajaan Rom Timur. Aku ingin melihat-lihat barang-barang dagangan yang ada di sana. Senjata-senjata baru yang diperdagangkan. Kuda-kuda perang baka baru dari seluruh Rantau Barat, Rantau Tengah serta Benua Putih. Ku dengar kuda orang Norman amat besar, bengis dan berani lagi gagah perkasa. Amat sesuai digunakan sebagai kuda penggempur.”

“Norman?” Balas Shakranta lagi. “Bangsa apakah itu?”

“Norman adalah suatu bangsa baru yang muncul hasil pertembungan dan percampuran di antara kaum-kaum Skandi da Varangi dari kawasan pesisir barat laut Benua Putih dengan kaum-kaum Frankis dan Gaul di wilayah tengah dan barat benua itu. Mereka kini sedang bangkit sebagai kuasa baru di Benua Putih. Kekuatan mereka dikatakan bersandar pada kuda perang mereka yang amat hebat.”

Shakranta terdiam sejenak. Mungkinkah kuda Norman itu berupaya menjadi suatu senjata yang ampuh untuk sebuah bala tentera seluruh Langkasuka yang bersatu satu hari nanti? Dia terfikir. “Kalau begitu, patik mesti ikut bersama Tuanku.”

§ 

Sultan Mahmud surveyed the likely Peshawar battlefield, the Punjab Valley site where his Ghaznian army was expected to face the vastly more numerous forces of Ananda Pala, ruler of the Hindu Shahi kingdom based in Kabul, and his Hindu allies. Ananda Pala had assembled an immense army, with hefty contributions of fighters from the kings of Ujjain, Gwalior, Kalinjar, Kannauj, Delhi, Ajmer and others.

Mahmud had faced and defeated Jaya Pala, father of Ananda Pala, soon after Mahmud became king of Ghazni, at the same exact site seven years earlier. In that battle, the Ghaznian army had slain fifteen thousand Hindu Shahi soldiers, captured Jaya Pala himself along with fifteen close relatives, and enslaved five hundred thousand Hindu Shahi citizens.

Mahmud had looted much wealth then, plus two hundred and fifty thousand dinar on top as ransom for Jaya Pala. But the Hindu Shahi king could not cope with the shame of his defeat. He eventually immolated himself, ascending his own funeral pyre in Kabul.

Now that Mahmud had the audacity to attack Peshawar again, the impending repeat battle presented a golden opportunity for Ananda Pala, son and successor of Jaya Pala, to seek revenge for his father's loss and humiliation, as well as vanquish the Turkmen-Persian arch enemy of the whole Hindu realm once and for all.

Alone and silently, Mahmud visualised in his mind the various possible scenarios which could develop during the actual battle, then wrote brief notes on how he would want his fighters to respond for each of them.

As the battle commenced the following day, Mahmud commanded six thousand infantry archers to the front to provoke the enemy and at the same time soften it up before his main assault. Ananda Pala, however, was just waiting to spring a major surprise for his foe.

Mahmud's eight thousand strong vanguard, including the archers, were confronted and surrounded by thirty thousand of Ananda Pala's fiercest and meanest fighters, the barefooted, bald headed, curly moustached, heavily armed Ghokars of the Kashmiri highlands. That stage of the battle quickly turned into a massacre, Mahmud's army then losing five thousand fighters in fairly short order.

It was a well known irony that desperation did sometimes spark genius. A cloud of anxiety began to descend on the faces of some of the Ghaznian generals. But Mahmud the seasoned campaigner remained unperturbed. He betrayed absolutely no emotion, his countenance now a frozen mask of composed yet undaunted determination in the midst of the greatest crisis.

"Let's try something different," at last Mahmud spoke. "Something totally unexpected."

The soldiers around Mahmud looked at him, their faces blank.

"Those elephants," Mahmud continued. "Let's attack them ... with missiles."

"I don't think that would budge them, Lord Sultan," a veteran Ghaznian soldier ventured his expert opinion, braving the risk of incurring the king's wrath as he did so. "Their thick hide won't feel a thing."

"But a howdah would still reel under the impact of a good hit," his colleague countered. "And you could kill a mahout, and any archer or spearman riding with him."

"No, not stone missiles," Mahmud clarified. "Try naphta balls this time. Aim the balls at the most vulnerable parts. Then follow up with fire arrows."

The Ghaznians then moved their indigenous missile launchers to attack Ananda Pala's hitherto invincible elephant battalion from the flanks and rear. They launched balls of clay and mud mixed with dry hay, grass, weed and leaves soaked in naphta at the enormous beasts. The archers were then to light up the targets aflame with fire arrows. The other soldiers waited for the outcome of this new tactic with bated breath.

More naphta balls flew across the air, from left, right and centre. One hit a howdah, splattering it all over with oil. A fire arrow lit the howdah up in flames, sending the mahout and three fighters diving to the ground, while the elephant screamed in fear.

A big oily ball struck Ananda Pala's own leading bull smack bang on its backside, soaking that part of the animal with naphta, as its mahout was busy manouvering it for yet another charge on the Ghaznians. A sharp eyed Ghaznian archer noticed the missile strike, carefully took aim with his fire arrow and hit his mark spot on. The mixed mass of clay, grass, weed and oil burst into flames immediately.

The other archers quickly followed suit, loosing more fire arrows onto their targets with greater frequency, their fatigue forgotten and their passions now worked up to a frenzy again. The results were devastating.

Ananda Pala's huge bull fled with all speed as the fire taking hold on its backside spread and seared its tail, anus and genitals. Its loud screams of pain and terror reverberated around the entire battlefield, triggering a mass panic-stricken flight by the rest of the herd, many of them now on fire themselves. The massive beasts bolted in confused fright, trampling and crushing to death many hundreds of Ananda Pala's own soldiers in the melee.

There was just no way now for Ananda Pala, his mahout or the four spearmen riding with the king to calm down his crazed burning elephant. All they could do was hang on for dear life as the desperate bull hurtled its way madly through the fields, while waiting for the right time to jump off, hopefully without getting injured or crushed.

Word soon spread like wildfire through the Hindu Shahi ranks that their king had quit the battle. Ananda Pala's entire army then broke down into complete disarray and retreated in total chaos.

General Abdullah Ta'ie, leading a battalion of six thousand Arab and Persian cavalry on their hardy, agile desert stallions, and General Arslan Jadzib, commanding a combined infantry of ten thousand battle hardened Turkmen, Pushtun and Khilji, pursued and harrassed Ananda Pala's retreating soldiers with not the briefest respite. Abdullah's fast mounted fighters would chase and round batches of stragglers among the fleeing enemy and strafe them with arrows, spears and javelins, then Arslari's footmen would pounce on those still standing to deal the final blow, killing them and seizing weapons, horses and belongings from their fallen enemies.

Many Ghaznian infantry, being the highly adaptable soldiers that they were, then simply took horse and changed into mounted warriors, merging into the cavalry and swelling its size even more. The same cycle would then be repeated over and over again.

Twenty thousand soldiers of the Hindu Shahi army were slain. Thirty of their elephants and much gold, silver, jewellery and other booty were brought to Sultan Mahmud as spoils. Peshawar and Gandhara were conquered and incorporated into the kingdom of Ghazni. What had at one stage threatened to end in a disastrous defeat for the Ghaznian army had instead turned into a smashing victory.

§

Clouds of light grey covered the normally bright morning sun of Ghazna. A slight drizzle had been falling since dawn, after a rather balmy night. A light breeze blew, the air suddenly feeling cooler than usual for early autumn.

Shakranta was finishing a long slow breakfast with Sultan Mahmud, accompanied by two of the ruler's most trusted commanders, Abdullah Ta'ie and Arslari Jazib, and two fast rising young generals, Ashgar the Persian and Tegrud the Turkmen, in the Sultan's palace. To his surprise, as well as pleasure, Shakranta had been urged by the king to stay on in Ghazna, in a luxurious guest mansion near the palace quarters, for as long as he wished.

The previous day, Shakranta had visited Tapar Sardar, the expansive temple site which comprised a big hilltop stupa surrounded by a row of smaller ones. It had reminded him of what he had heard from travellers about the famed Borobodur of Java, built by Maharaja Samara Thunga of the Sailendra. He had not seen Borobodur with his own eyes yet, and he wished to visit it some time. He had then spent the entire afternoon in deep contemplation before the Pari Nirvana Buddha, a huge reclining statue of the Great Guru close by.

The merchandise he had brought in several ships from Amdan Negara had been all sold in Gujarat a few months earlier. The ships had sailed back from Gujarat to Amdan Negara laden with goods from Ghazna, Gujarat itself, the Deccan, Bokhara and Persia. The goods would be picked up and handled on their arrival in Amdan Negara by his mother and his two uncles. While he himself had stayed behind to explore further trade opportunities in the region and develop business networks to activate the most viable ones among them.

“Shakranta,” the Sultan lounged easily on his stately sofa.

“Yes, Your Majesty,“ Shakranta answered.

“We’ve been thinking about visiting Constantinople some time. It’s been quite a while since We went to the place. Would you like to accompany Us on Our trip there?”

“Constantinople?” Shakranta looked surprised. “I've heard it’s a grand city.”

“Yes, it is,” Mahmud continued. “Constantinople. The grandest city right now, by Our estimation, in the whole of Christendom. It used to be called Byzantium, after King Byzas. It was later renamed Constantinople by Emperor Constantine. But many people still refer to the entire kingdom under its rule as Byzantium. The Arabs though, for reasons known only to them, still call the whole realm just Rum.”

“Your Majesty, this invitation is a most fantastic one. I would be most happy to accept. This would be a very important mission then, I guess.”

“Of course. Because Byzantium is a very important power. Not only politically, but also in trade and commerce. If Ghazna can make friends with Byzantium, it would lead to many great benefits for Us. As well as, We believe, for Byzantium. For example, Ghazna and Byzantium could cooperate directly with each other to enhance trade between them, as well as trade with others, such as China, as well as the many small kingdoms in Suvarna Bhumi, the Golden Continent and Suvarna Dvipa, the Golden Islands.”

“That’s very interesting, Your Majesty. But then, would not being friends with Byzantium somehow compromise Ghazna’s relations with Persia?”

“We believe that’s a risk Ghazna will have to bear. Oh, just a small one, anyway. On the other hand, just because Ghazna is a close ally of Persia does not mean that Ghazna cannot be friends with any other kingdom that’s a rival of Persia. It's always good for a man to have another friend. Likewise, it's always good for a kingdom to have one more ally. Having just one good friend is never a good idea. Just like Byzantium and Persia each has their own many allies, so must Ghazna. It’s always good to have many friends and few enemies. Anyway, Ghazna must always act in the best interests of Ghazna.”

“A most prudent view of things, Your Majesty,” Shakranta had to concur with the Sultan.  

“Our intelligence has reported to Us that Emperor Basileios will be hosting a grand ceremony for the wedding of his sister, Princess Anna, to Vladimir the Great, the king of Kievskaya Ruska. Now, therefore, would be a very opportune time for Us to visit.”

“Have Your Majesty received a formal invitation to attend?”

“Unfortunately, We have not. But We won’t allow such trivia to cloud Our judgement on much bigger matters. Perhaps, Byzantium does not yet consider Ghazna of enough significance. That’s something Ghazna has to make an effort to change. We shall arrive in Constantinople with plenty of time to spare. We shall make Our presence known, by some indirect means, as soon as We get there. Hopefully, that will eventually be enough to get Us an invitation.”

“You keep astounding me with your wisdom, Your Majesty. I still have so much to learn from you.”

“We also want to look at new merchandise which might have become available there. New weaponry, like the Norman crossbow and the  Saxon longbow, and the powerful fortress smashing ballista. New breeds of war steeds. I hear the Normans have bred a huge, brave and fierce charger. The destrier, they call it. Could suit Our requirements for Ghazna.”

“Normans?” queried Shakranta. “Who are they?”

“The Normans are a new tribe. The result of mixing between the Skandi and the Varangi, from the far northwestern shores of the White Continent, with the Franks and the Gauls from further south in the centre and the west. Guys say they also carry some Roman blood in them. They have, quite suddenly, emerged as a most formidable power in the White Continent. And that power is said by many to be founded upon their magnificent war horses.”

“And what’s a charger, Your Majesty?”

“A big, strong and fierce war horse especially bred and trained to fight and kill. They say it's so huge that it dwarfs a tall man in height at its shoulders, and it can grow to a weight heavier than twenty big men.

"Great Lord! That's really massive."

"It is. It can charge, bite, kick, trample and crush enemy fighters to cause severe injury or even death. In addition to carrying its own heavily armoured rider, of course. Created for brute strength and sheer ferocity, a well trained, well equipped cavalry force, comprising mostly the destrier, has been known to cause such fear and despair in the enemy army that victory was obtained, effectively, without a fight.”

Mahmud’s words hit Shakranta like a bolt. He went quiet for a while. Retreated into a brief private contemplation. His family's own Kambhoja war steeds, brought by his late father from Bhangala and Singhala years before, were certainly much smaller. So were those Mongolian horses of Sujita Raja, king of Nagara Sri Dharma Raja, bought from Pagan, capital city of the Bhama kingdom of Arima Dhana, as well as the horse markets of Champa Nagara. He had never imagined that horses could be bred to such gargantuan size and be used effectively as such formidable weapons of war.

Could this be the elusive answer he had been looking for all this time? Could those big Norman chargers provide the new potent weapon a future united pan-Langkasukan force could use to defeat the vast armies of Palembang? And to overthrow those Sumatran imperialists from the kingdoms of the Langkasukan Federation, or even the entire Golden Peninsula? Shakranta almost drooled at the thought. If there was even the slightest likelihood of that, then there could only be one answer to Mahmud’s offer.

“If that be the case, Your Majesty, then I shall definitely go along with you.”