The news of the fall of Hamadan no longer stirs much commotion in Tarsus.
The army led by Ali Atabeg was disastrously defeated beneath the walls of Hades City, with fewer than three thousand returning out of an army over sixty thousand strong.
The iron hooves of the Franks press on the borders, unstoppable wherever they go, already poised at the gates of Tarsus, leaving no one to care about the distant Tatars.
Mustafa stood beneath the laurel tree at his residence, this elder statesman who served through two generations of Kings of Kings, feeling quite desolate at heart.
"Father, what did His Majesty say to you, was it more details about the evacuation?"
Mustafa shook his head: "Everything will be discussed once we return to the estate."
"After I die, remember to proceed with caution,"
"Father, why do you say such things?"
"His Majesty has met with the Frankish Basileus."
"What? When!"
"Just before His Majesty summoned me."
