A Crusader with System in the Middle Ages

Hama lies in the heart of Syria, in the transitional zone between the Syrian Plateau and the Mediterranean Sea coast. It is a vital commercial city, controlling the roads and waterways that connect the various regions of Syria.

Hama is renowned for its hydraulic irrigation. Its waterwheels, famous even in the Roman Era, draw from the Euphrates River to irrigate the farmlands, ensuring that famine is a concept forever foreign to this place.

Yajisiyan was the lord of Hama, one of the many Turkic adventurers who had come to the West in the wake of Tughrul’s conquests.

The glory of the other Turkic adventurers who had arrived in Syria in his time, along with the lands they once conquered, had all but vanished.

Yajisiyan was old and learned. At sixty-five, he would spend his days boasting of the glory he had won over the past forty years. But in the dead of night, he fretted over his failing body and the uncertainties of tomorrow.

Hama City was perched upon a highland, overlooking the fertile soil below. It was surrounded by dense olive groves and vineyards, and the bountiful harvests made the land exceptionally rich. There were olives, grapes, figs, barley, and women.

Governor Yajisiyan loved all of it. He had married five times, each wife younger than the last, yet none had borne him an heir. Not even a serving woman had ever conceived his child, though Allah knew he had tried many times.

His childlessness convinced Yajisiyan that Allah had placed a curse upon him. Thus, in his old age, he grew ever more reliant on religion. His domain boasted a magnificent Mosque and dozens of smaller ones, as well as Imams to provide doctrinal teachings to the faithful. Outside the city’s eastern gate stood a Madrasa presided over by a Jurist Scholar.

Yajisiyan also built two new Mosques for the countryside and, on a remote mountaintop, an orphanage and a hospital. The orphanage stood opposite a vineyard, overlooking the vast fields. He also hired several devout Akhunds and spent a great fortune to purchase soil and water from the Holy Land of Medina. He enshrined these before the altar of the castle Mosque, but even this sacred Talisman failed to bring about any change.

Though he did not make it widely known, he also sought the help of Christians. He invited several renowned Ascetic Cultivators. The Christian who introduced them swore that these men were destined to become Saints and that their blessings possessed great Power.

He even sought out several Wizards from the distant steppes. They were renowned Witch Doctors from the Turkic tribes, skilled in the use of herbs, incantations, and mystical rites. With a mixture of curiosity and hope, Yajisiyan invited these Wizards to Hama City to conduct secret rituals in his spacious palace.

Under the Wizards’ guidance, Yajisiyan began to take part in rituals steeped in mysticism—these were not traditional Mosque prayers, but special rites combining the Witchcraft of the steppes. The Wizards steamed his body with herbal vapors and carved sacred symbols from sheep bones and deer antlers, all to banish the ”curse.” At night, they would light bonfires in the desert and chant ancient spells to the dancing flames, hoping to draw upon the power of the steppe gods to grant Yajisiyan an heir.

According to the teachings of the philosopher Aristotle, seventy is the limit of a man’s potency. Yajisiyan was at his wits’ end and about to give up hope.

However, events soon took a turn. Three years ago, his fifth wife—nineteen years old, comely, and healthy—had borne him a son.

This should have been a moment of pure ecstasy for Yajisiyan, but this joyous occasion was marred by the terrible state of affairs in Syria. First, the Old Sultan of the Seljuk Empire, Al-Salan, was assassinated. Then, the New Sultan Malikshah, in his excessive mercy, released Suleiman, which led to the Turkic People of Anatolia breaking away from the Empire. This was followed by the sudden rise of Aziz in Syria, and finally, the repeated invasions by the Fatima Caliphate, which was intent on seizing back control of Syria.

The New Sultan Malikshah was preoccupied with wars in the East and had no capacity to attend to matters in the west. As the Governor of Hama, Yajisiyan was caught between several competing powers, struggling to survive. He understood the importance of political astuteness better than anyone.

So, when he learned that Suleiman Shah was dealing with internal strife while Tutush was leading a great army west, he decisively chose to curry favor with Tutush. He unhesitatingly abandoned his oath of allegiance to Suleiman Shah, even dispatching the majority of his available troops to aid Tutush.

However, flattery is a delicate art, and one is bound to encounter difficulties, especially when the object of one’s fealty is both militarily powerful and formidably well-connected.

Just yesterday, he had received a letter from Tutush. The letter was respectful and humble, yet carried a threatening undertone.

The letter informed Yajisiyan that Tutush was dealing with a rebellion within the Damascus Duchy. His method of usurpation—strangling Aziz with a bowstring—had been so horrific that Aziz’s former subordinates refused to pledge allegiance to him. Instead, they had sworn fealty to the Fatima Caliphate and joined forces with its army, determined to drive Tutush back to Isfahan.

Tutush was now taking all his forces to besiege Jerusalem, which was held by Aziz’s loyalists. The siege had been proceeding smoothly until one night a week ago, when a Shiite madman snuck into Tutush’s tent and nearly slit his throat with a dagger.