I was the Queen of Persia

Page 109

They showed no mercy to the enemy's buttocks, each using all their might to twist and shake, squeezing out wave after wave of thick, white fluid, leaving behind a rich and alluring scent.

Abdul was soon brought to tears by this sensual torture, but received no sympathy from those present. In the hearts of all the warriors, he was a butcher with innocent blood on his hands, whose crimes had angered God, and any torture inflicted upon him was justified.

The inhuman screams grew fainter and fainter.

In the end, the evil executioner died from exhaustion, and his anus was wide open because the Persian female "succubi" were not only sucking and squeezing him, but also violently pounding his anus with the handle of a hammer.

For Blackblade cultists who consider themselves devout believers, dying at the hands of a woman and being continuously tortured by her is undoubtedly a great humiliation, and they will naturally be unable to "ascend to heaven" after death.

“Cursed Persian women! You will suffer eternal torment in the fire!” another captured Blackblade officer screamed as he watched his comrade being humiliated.

“Oh, really? I don’t think a blasphemous, bloodthirsty thug who spreads corruption in the world has the right to utter such high-sounding words.” Sahimian continued with a cruel smile.

After saying this, he ordered his soldiers to strip the thief naked and throw him to the male soldiers of the Samanid army to enjoy. After the male soldiers had finished, the thief was then thrown to the servants, grooms, and black slaves to enjoy.

Chapter 254 Hellfire, your final destination!

The sandstorms of the Syrian desert seem to echo the wrath of God, who is also shocked by the atrocities committed by the Blackblade sect and proclaiming his anger to the world.

Behind the dim yellow sandstorm, countless figures appeared indistinctly. As they drew closer, tall camels and bright red armor came into view. It was the Saman camel caravan that had gone to pursue the remaining enemy, and they were also escorting a large number of Black Blade prisoners.

"Reporting to Sadar, we've captured the Black Blade Army's general!" The leading Saman officer reported to Shahinian, then threw a bound man in black off the camel.

It was Alabi.

"Pah! You devilish Persian woman!" Alabi spat out the sand that had splashed into his mouth. Although he had been captured alive, his arrogance had not diminished. He stared at Sahini'an with a fierce look on his face. "I faithfully follow the teachings of Allah and will ascend to Paradise! Hahaha..."

boom--!

Before he could continue his outrageous behavior, a heavy iron fist slammed into his face.

It was Istaheri, a capable subordinate of Sahinian, who had long abhorred the atrocities of the Black Blade bandits. Seeing that Alabi was still arrogant, she directly swung her strong, beautiful hand and delivered several heavy blows.

With her extraordinary strength, she showed no mercy. The Saman Empire's heavy cavalry were equipped with sturdy iron arm guards. The hard armor combined with the powerful force slammed down, instantly causing the Black Blade general's face to swell up and his mouth to twist to one side.

"Cough cough..." Alabi coughed up several mouthfuls of blood on the spot, almost fainting from the pain, and finally shut his mouth.

"Heaven? Heh, I'm afraid you've killed too many people. They've already filled Heaven, and there's no room for you anymore." Sahinian looked at the sinister and tyrannical person in front of her with a very cold expression, but anyone with eyes could see the cruelty hidden beneath that coldness.

"Prepare to send him to Hellfire!" she commanded sternly, looking at Ishtarli beside her.

……

Just as Alabi was captured, another soldier reported that more than a dozen mass graves left by massacres had been discovered in the nearby oasis dunes, and the victims' deaths were extremely gruesome.

Clearly, all of this was done by Alabiwi's Blackblade army. The massacre in the Maadan Valley was just the tip of the iceberg of this series of horrific events.

This further aggravated Alabiwi's crimes and strengthened Shahini's resolve to use violence to combat violence.

……

The stream flows gently, and palm trees stand in clusters.

Dozens of human heads formed a towering mound, a testament to Shahini's orders to build with the heads of Blackblade soldiers, intended to intimidate this cruel and bloodthirsty Blackblade armed force.

Several groups of Samanid soldiers riding camels traversed the oasis pastures of various tribes.

"Muslim shepherds!"

The leading officer, speaking in a loud and resonant Arabic voice, declared: "The bloodthirsty apostates will be justly executed in the Maadan Valley! Sadar Shahini has ordered that every tribe must send a representative to witness this! All tribes are to comply immediately!"

To make an example of someone and establish authority.

This was Sahini's tough approach, and also the supreme will of Empress Shahzani.

As for the neutral Bedouin tribes living in this area, on the one hand, they feared the power of the Saman Empire, and on the other hand, they were indeed driven to the point of no return by the brutality of the Black Blade Cult. Therefore, after hearing the news that the Black Blade cultists were to be executed, they all gathered together.

Before long, a large crowd gathered at the execution site, including tribal chiefs and sheikhs, lower-class herders and slaves, and traveling merchants, all waiting.

The imposing Samanid army stood all around, their mere presence enough to inspire awe.

A large crowd of onlookers was cleared out, and Alabi was bound hand and foot and pushed to the center by two soldiers.

“Confess your sins!” A Persian Horamitian cleric accompanying the army, holding scriptures and hadiths, slowly stepped forward. “At least you will suffer less on the road to Hell!”

"Bah!" Alabi remained unabated in his arrogance, or rather, he used the outburst of anger to mask his inner panic. "I am a devout believer! I will not submit to you heretics! Kill me or torture me as you please! Do it!"

"Heh, still resisting, huh?" Sahimian maintained her alluring smile, but her heart was already churning with rage. "Very well, very well, then I'll show you what true brutality is!"

“Begin!” Sahinien said, turning to the executioner, Ishtarhri, and the Nassak interrogators.

Keng——!

Ishtarhi nodded silently, then drew the saddle axe hanging from his armored belt and slowly walked toward the bound prisoner.

The intimidating presence of female warriors from the Iranian Samanid Empire often terrified criminals.

In the realm of pleasure, they are alluring and seductive succubi; on the battlefield, they are war machines ready to die for their cause; and on the execution ground, they are ruthless executioners.

With firm steps, his iron boots left deep footprints in the sand, and the distance drew ever closer.

“What…what are you going to do?! Damn it! Don’t you have any men in your army?! Let men carry out the executions! True believers must die by the hands of men!” Alabi’s psychological defenses finally collapsed, and he shouted in a panic.

Ishtar remained unmoved, raising her armor-piercing saddle axe, its blade gleaming with a dazzling iron light.

With a swift swing of the axe, his right forearm, bone and all, was cleanly severed, blood gushing forth and staining the yellow sand red.

The Bedouin people watching were immediately terrified and instinctively lowered their heads. Mothers wearing veils and face coverings quickly covered their children's eyes.

But the execution did not stop. Ishtarhiri's battle axe rose and fell continuously, and amidst Alabi's inhuman screams, he shattered and severed both of Alabi's arms and legs, and the gushing blood pooled together.

"Oh God..."

"Are they apostles of the devil...?"

"This is how the Blackblade Cult treats us. They do this simply to retaliate and suppress evil. God help us, God help us..."

Despite their rough nature, the Bedouin tribesmen had never witnessed such a terrifying and awe-inspiring force. Gazing at the bloody scene, they murmured prayers for protection.

Alabi's screams were drowned out by the repeated sounds of hacking and dismemberment.

Ishtarhiri remained energetic and undeterred, reveling in the brutal torture and execution of the most heinous criminals who took pleasure in cruelty, the most tyrannical thugs, and those who had committed inhuman crimes. She felt no remorse for this; on the contrary, she considered it the duty of the defenders of the Saman Empire and the warriors of the Khorami faction.

She continued to strike and chop, the sounds of bones shattering and flesh separating from bone seeping into people's hearts. There was no intact flesh or bone left on Alabi's cheeks, and his torso was also dismembered, with his intestines spilling out and bone fragments scattered everywhere.

The executions have entered a critical stage.

The Nassaks around them, unable to contain their excitement, surged forward with great enthusiasm upon receiving Sahinnian's command, drawing their swords and axes, and utterly chopped Alabiwi's remains into a pile of minced meat and blood.

"Muslims!" Shahinian grabbed his spear, lifted the shattered heads, and surveyed the crowd. "The most sinful have gone to Hellfire; they will no longer oppress and ravage you!"

"Thank you, Saman Empire! Thank you, Great Queen Shahzani!" The Bedouins knelt and kowtowed.

"Sadar, what should we do with those Blackblade prisoners of war?" the officer beside him asked.

“They were all buried alive,” Sahimian said.

The Samanid army dug a huge pit, drove the Blackblade soldiers in like cattle and sheep, filled it with sand, and buried them all alive.

Sahimian stood with one foot on the gravel, gazing at the scene, and nodded slightly.

She knew that after this battle, the Black Blade forces in the Ubaid River region had been completely crushed, and the local Bedouin tribes would soon be brought under the influence of the Saman Empire.

The next task, of course, is to appease the Bedouin tribes. For those tribes that have voluntarily submitted, they should be treated with benevolence.

written request for leave

I need to take one day off. (As the title says.)

Chapter 255 Ferdowsi and the Shahnameh

The results of the battle at the Ubaid River oasis were compiled into a battle report and transmitted back to the heart of the empire—Khorasan Province—through the well-established postal system across the empire's territory.

Royal Palace in Jahanshahr, the capital city.

"Good! Sahinnian did a great job, she taught those Blackblade cultists a lesson." Shahzani looked at the memorial with a pleased expression.

She has always advocated using violence to combat violence. This way of thinking might have been criticized in her previous life, but it was still applicable in ancient times when morality and social security were more backward.

Shahzani's principle was to deter atrocities and extremists, and to instill obedience in the hearts of all her subjects through deterrence. For this, she did not mind bearing the reputation of a tyrant like Timur, Nadir Shah, and Agha Muhammad Khan.

Of course, her executions were principled. She never killed innocent people indiscriminately. Those she killed were thugs who disregarded human life and were heinous criminals who deserved to die. In a sense, she still belonged to the category of "benevolent but tyrannical rulers".

"Your Majesty, the Blackblade Cult has been driven out of Ubaid. Should the Governor of Iraq Province send military officials to take over local defenses, establish local government offices, and incorporate them into our territory?" a court official asked.

“Let’s hold off for now,” Shahzani said.

She glanced at the assembled officials and said calmly:

"As you, my ministers, know, the Bedouin people in the desert are crude and barbaric. Their robes cannot be called clothing at all. They do not yet have concepts such as nation and government in their minds. If we rashly bestow upon them the system of a mature civilization, it will probably become a burden to us."

"Moreover, Iraq Province already has a limited number of troops stationed there, and they bear heavy responsibilities. Not only do they have to support their Syrian Alawite allies at all times, but they also have to deal with the backstabbing of the Loum (Eastern Roman Empire) at any time. It is not worth changing deployments for the not-so-fertile and barren oasis of Ubaid."

Ultimately, it all comes down to the cost of governance.

Although the Iranian Samanid Empire had a vast territory, strong national power, and a complete oasis-style centralized system, the Arabian Desert was remote and isolated, with diverse ethnic groups, poverty, and undeveloped customs. Establishing rule there would likely have required a great deal of effort with very limited returns.

At least, given the current level of productivity and organization, the returns are still quite limited.

Although Iraqi and Khuzestan provinces are also predominantly Arab, both provinces have mature social systems, prosperous urban commerce, and advanced irrigation systems. The Arabs living in these provinces are generally more civilized and can easily integrate into the Samanid Empire's ruling system.

After weighing the pros and cons, Shahzani did not want to extend her territory beyond civilized society into the Arabian wilderness for the time being. As for controlling these Arab tribes, she had devised another method adapted to local conditions and drafted an edict to send back to the border regions.

……

The court session ended quickly.

After having her royal meal, Shahzani, surrounded by guards and servants, went to the royal garden in the center of the palace to rest and enjoy the scenery, and also to visit Princess Farukzad.

This is a grand Persian-style garden with symmetrically arranged fountains and canals, and orderly rows of pavilions in the style of four-cornered towers. When the flowers bloom, roses and tulips compete to bloom, their crimson colors vibrant. More importantly, the environment is serene and tranquil, making it perfect for composing poems, reading, and cultivating one's mind.

The exquisite four-cornered pavilion, with its four sides open to the Persian arched doorways, is covered with fine and luxurious Persian carpets. Copper pots are filled with fine wine, and trays are laden with dried fruit. I opened Mansur Barish's version of the Shahnameh and began to read it with great interest.

Soon, Shahzani was completely absorbed in the epic saga of ancient Iranian heroes, lingering there for a long time.

at this time.

"Let the great Shahsha begin."

A Divan minister, dressed in fine clothes, approached and bowed: "In the name of the merciful and almighty God Huda, there is a wise and illustrious old man in Khorasantus named Ferdowsi, whose wisdom is as bright as the stars in the sky and whose talent is as vast as the ocean. He is now outside the gate of the Royal Garden and requests an audience."

"Who?" Shahzani almost thought she had misheard. She looked up and showed a surprised expression.

“Report to Shahsha, Ferdowsi,” the minister repeated.

Swish-!

Upon hearing this momentous news, Shahzani immediately stood up, not even bothering to put on her shoes, and walked barefoot towards the door, shouting, "Quick! Take me to see him!"

This is a national hero who created a gem of Iranian literature, one of the historical figures Shahzani has long admired most. Several years ago, during her campaign against the Ghaznavid dynasty, she had narrowly missed him in Tus, a fact she deeply regretted. Now that he has come to visit her, how could Shahzani not be overjoyed, as if she had found a priceless treasure?

……

Near the garden entrance.

A sprightly old man stood quietly among the flowers, wearing a Persian felt hat and a headscarf wrapped around his head. He held a heavy book in his arms. Time had left its mark on his face, but it could not erase the light of wisdom shining in his eyes.

Before long, three court poets dressed in fine clothes appeared opposite them. They were Onsari, Farossi, and Asjadi. They walked slowly with smiles on their faces.

"Is the visitor Master Ferdowsi of Khorasantus?" Onsari asked with a smile, bowing respectfully.

“Exactly.” Ferdowsi returned the greeting, his spirits high, yet neither humble nor arrogant.

“Oh, we have long heard of your great name. Praise be to God! Your hard work has left an invaluable treasure for our Iranian nation! We are truly ashamed of our own in comparison. So, may we have the opportunity to appreciate your talents more deeply?”

It must be said that the words of cultured people are exquisite. On the surface, this sentence is a compliment to the other party, but in reality, it is a challenge. More precisely, it is a poetry contest and a competition of talent among Persian literati.

According to the tradition at the time, if a Persian poet wanted to enter the palace to meet the emperor, he had to compete in poetry with other court poets. By demonstrating his talent, he could gain the qualification to meet the emperor. This was a kind of test and interview, and of course, it also contained the implication of mutual exclusion among the literati.

“Alright,” Ferdowsi stroked his white beard and readily agreed. “Please give me a challenge, sir.”

“Hmm.” Onsari nodded slightly. “Her Majesty Shah Shah is a woman of great literary and military prowess, and of unparalleled beauty. Let us compose a poem praising her beauty.”

After speaking, he recited the first sentence with intonation:

"Even the moon cannot compare to her glory."

Asjadi followed up with the second sentence in perfect unison:

"Even the flowers in the garden cannot compare to her face."

Farossi uttered the third sentence with exquisite skill: