Лео Франковски - Conrad's Last Campaign

Working on the future also kept my mind off my pope problem. It was getting harder to maintain a relationship with a pope who was getting more fanatic by the day. Now he was pushing the concept of baptism by sword. He wanted the people we conquered to be baptized at the point of a sword or dispatched with the blade of one. It was only under discussion so far and I was hoping it would never come down as an order. I’m as good a Christian as anyone, but I won’t kill a man for praying in the wrong church.

It also kept my mind of that nagging thought that kept bothering me. I’d always had a concern about the Mongols returning to Poland. We had barely beaten them twenty years ago, by dint of some modern organization and technology, nine years of hard work, and a little help from my time traveling Uncle Tom.

But what with all the slave girls they’d captured in their invasions, the average Mongol now had a half-dozen wives, and nobody there had ever heard of birth control. During a cold winter, sex just about was the only amusement available. If you assume four children from each wife, and half of them being boys, the next time, they might be able to hit us with a dozen times as many men as they did last time.

And all the lands they had taken gave them room enough to graze a sufficient number of animals to feed all of those people.

They were also more dangerous. The first time they came to Poland, they bypassed most of the fortified towns because you can’t get much siege equipment on a horse. Places like Tver and Moscow held out if they kept their wits about them and kept the gates tightly closed. Of course, the Mongols still ruled the countryside and killed everyone not behind walls.

Now they would have Chinese engineers in the baggage train. They would probably have cannon and rifles too. They had captured an entire supply train of mine during the last battle, and they were well-known for developing any technology they came across.

In my own timeline they had come back about every twenty years and as we approached the twenty year mark I found my self thinking about them more often .

I walked down to the radio room, and had them get in contact with Sir Piotr, my “viceroy” in Okoitz, which was the Christian Army headquarters, and also my personal palace. Sir Piotr spent a quarter hour filling me in on various things.

Then I made my obligatory call to my main wives, Francine and Cilicia, and they later put me on to talk with some of my former harem girls who were living at the palace. It was a bit boring, but you have to talk to them to keep them happy.

It had been a long day, and I was getting hungry. I went downstairs, where my harem girls, fourteen of them just now, had a hot bath ready for me. Three of them were soon in the big tub with me, as nude as I was, scrubbing, shampooing, and shaving me.

I’d maintained a decent harem ever since we’d conquered Timbuktu. This tends to be a short-term occupation for the girls when you are traveling in wartime. You can’t very well take a pregnant woman into battle. I’d made a practice of sending expectant mothers back to my palace in Poland, where they would get the best of care.

It’s a good life.

Dinner was served western style at a big table that I’d found in the city. It had probably been left behind by the last bunch of Crusaders who’d owned this city.

The food was good, and the entertainment, music and dancing provided by my naked ladies, was very relaxing. Often, I had friends over, but not tonight.

Eventually, it was time for bed. One of my girls was new, and I was eager to try her out.

The Army used a twelve-hour day, with sunrise being at zero o’clock. Our hours were twice as long as those in my old time line. It might have been ten in the morning, long before dawn, when one of my stunningly beautiful, if not quite human, bodyguards shook me awake, a kerosene lantern in her hand, frightening the shy young lady that I was with.

“Please excuse me, my lord, but you have a radio call from Baron Boris Novacek. He says that it’s very urgent!”

Boris Novacek commanded our Commercial Corps, and was in charge of the sales of all of the army’s civilian products, across much of the world. He was also my secret chief of spies.

“Tell him that I’m coming,” I said, grabbing an embroidered silk robe.

In the radio room, bleary eyed, I said, “Boris, this had better be good!”

“It’s not, my lord. It’s very bad. The Mongols are getting ready to move on Europe again. Their departure date is set for three months from now.”

Twenty Years Ago in China

Polymaths, geniuses in multiple fields, are rare in history, but China in the tenth and thirteenth centuries and the Ottoman Empire for a few centuries afterward produced more than their share. In a few rare lifetimes, more than one existed simultaneously. Su Song was a polymath working for the great khan.

In his younger days, Su Song had written an extensive book on pharmacology, cataloging hundreds of medicinal compounds and herbs. As with other polymaths, he also wrote books on engineering, metallurgy, military strategy, mineralogy, chemistry, and diplomacy. His most famous achievement was a forty-foot high clock built for the Song emperor. It was water powered, chain driven, regulated by an escapement four hundred years ahead of its time. In Conrad’s home time line, it was famous a thousand years in the future.

As with most Chinese polymaths, he rose to prominence during the civil service exams and spent most of his life in Imperial posts. It was his diplomatic expertise and knowledge of history that caused him to end up in Mongol Imperial Service.

He was on a diplomatic mission to the Jin dynasty in 1237 when the city he was in came under Mongol attack. The city held out for two months, until captured Chinese sappers exploded nearly two tons of black powder under the city walls.

Because the city had resisted, the Mongols imposed the usual penalty; death to all inhabitants. However, the khan had learned by now that some people were as valuable as horses and land. The engineers who had sapped the walls and the gunpowder they used were, after all, Chinese engineers and a Chinese invention.

In spite of his fame, Su Song was kneeling in front of a raised sword when he was recognized and saved. It was an even closer call for his wife.

From the Secret Diary of Su Song

It has been five years now since I entered the service of the great khan. For the last three years, I have served the new khan, Ogedei, by improving siege machines, trebuchets, and gunpowder weapons and planning supply chains for his military campaigns, but today things became much more interesting.

Early in the morning, two palace messengers summoned me to a meeting with the khan himself.

I remember that my wife fussed with my collar unnecessarily, her fingers lingering when they brushed the skin of my neck. I knew what she was thinking. When one was summoned by the great khan, one could return showered with wealth or wrapped in a shroud.

I tried to reassure her, “My dear, you have been fussing over my clothes for the past ten minutes. I’m more likely to be executed for keeping the great khan waiting than for wrinkled clothes”. I immediately regretted the jest as her eyes teared over. Like most husbands, I am better at reading the stars than I am in reading my wife’s mind.

Several of my assistants were waiting at the heavily guarded door to one of the grand halls.

Of course we dropped to our knees and began the ceremonial crawl to the throne. We had not gotten more than a few chi [^1] when the khan announced loudly, “Su Song, you and your men will have to stand to see what we have to show you. We have important business to attend to.”