20 Home sweet home

Piruz's and Farrukhzad journey continued on. Two weeks on road in front of them, they still talked and discussed different matters and topics.

"So, tell me, Farrukhzad. How is it? To be Empire's wuzurg framadar? How are the responsibilities?"

"Piruz, I am wuzurg framadar for only half a year. I don't think I experienced it sufficiently. But if I had to answer, I'd say I feel with more authority than before. But you should know how it is better than me. You were wuzurg framadar yourself."

"I was. I sure was. But I was serving under a man both irresponsible and incompetent man who got his throne through a coup but wasn't able to hold it. I'd dare to say that our current Shahanshah, may he be immortal, is much more competent than him, despite the age gap."

"Maybe you're right. Anyway, I was thinking of helping our Shahanshah in terms of reforms. This country needs those, if it want's to survive."

"Reforms, huh? What about those of Khosrow I.? Those should still be in use, although modified by clergy and nobility to suit them."

"Khosrow I. used these reforms to weaken the nobles and clergy, which also greatly upset them. And Yazdegerd III. isn't Khosrow I. He doesn't wield as much power as Khosrow I. held. Don't you think that such drastic reforms could lead to his demise?"

"Maybe. But he has to risk if he want's to succeed."

"Hmmm. Maybe you're right, my friend. Maybe you're right."

They rode in silence when the conversation died out, enjoying the rocky drylands around them. This was central Iran, dry and desolate yet somehow beautiful. It was land of high mountains, dry deserts and wonders alike. In the mountains, you could find temples built into a mountainside, in the deserts you could find huge cities. Truly a wonder of a land. People who lived there were diverse – from Persians to Daylamites, from Parthians to Lurs. But all of them called themselves Iranians, with one Empire, one Shahanshah and one religion uniting them. Farrukhzad was overwhelmed by the nature, looking around and enjoying the view. Piruz wasn't that kind of person, but he too wouldn't disregard such a view.

When nearing Istakhr, they stopped at Ardakan, a town which was known for its religious importance. Ardakan literally means "a holy place." They visited the Chak Chak temple, one of the most sacred temples of Zoroastrianism. Well, not directly as the temple didn't have the space for a few thousand soldiers. So, they stayed under the temple, praying in its direction. They prayed to Ahura Mazda. Everyone had their own prayer, their own wish. But all of them prayed to the same god, Ahura Mazda. It was a beautiful moment of people of different backgrounds, ethnicities and status, all kneeling together and praying to one god they had in common. When facing god, nothing but good deeds mattered.

After that, they continued their journey, with a burden in form of stress lifted and good feeling in their hearts added. A week passed and they arrived at Istakhr. A magnificent city, most important one in the history of Sassanid family. It was here where the first Sassanid ruler, Ardashir I. was crowned as Shahanshah of Iran and Aniran after defeating the Parthians. Sassanid Empire started here and some would say that it may end here. They entered the city and parted their ways, with Piruz heading into the barracks to discuss the remaining soldiers and ensure them housing. Farrukhzad headed right to Yazdegerd.

Palace guard let him in easily and he walked the corridors he missed so much. He met only a few servants along the way, quickly arriving in front of Yazdegerd's room. He knocked.

"Come in."

He opened the door and entered the room, closing the door behind him. He then knelt, looking onto the ground. In the room, a figure sat on the armchair. It was undoubtedly his Shahanshah.

"My Shahanshah, may he be immortal, I have returned and I bring the promised reports."

"Farrukhzad, my wuzurg framadar. It's great to see you again. Please, stand up and fill me in."

"Right away, my liege. I have been to all three cities you sent me to. I have ensured they follow the quarantine and –"

"Dear Farrukhzad, I do not care about that. Tell me about your objective. Have you fulfilled it properly?"

"Yes, my liege. I have made it so your fame is spread far and wide in these regions. But this could take effect in a few weeks, maybe months."

"It would be strange should it work instantly. Well then, I am very grateful to you, my wuzurg framadar. You should rest, you deserve it."

"Thank you, my liege. I also would like to inform you that Piruz Khosrow will come to see you shortly after me. We travelled together from Zarang."

Yazdegerd frowned.

"So I'll have to deal with those poor souls next. Alright. You can go."

"Yes, my liege."

Farrukhzad then left Yazdegerd to his own and made his way to his room, tired and battered. He wanted to jump into bed and lie down for a bit. And when he arrived in his room, he did just that. Lying in his bed, all sorts of thoughts drifted in his mind, until they eventually drifted him to sleep.

---

Arabs were marching from Arabia into persian Mesopotamia. Under the command of general Khalid ibn al-Walid. They were planning to attack in spring, taking over the border town of Hira and using it as a base for further exploits. Khalid discussed the plan of attack many times, with both Umar and Abu Bakr, who was in Mecca, ruling from there, taking care of official business. Khalid was preparing the army for the invasion, which was meant to take place in a around a month, in March. They wanted to use Iranian new year, which Persians celebrated to attack them startled and in surprise. The plan was good and Khalid was experienced commander who knew what he was doing. His army was still preparing, but the preparations were in late stages. He only needed to take care of the logistics and supplying the army. And supplying such an army through desert without proper planning and organization could result into a catastrophe. He had to be careful. And so he was.