Jan Genghis Khan Baty. Vasily Grigorievich Jan. Baty. V. Yan's trilogy "Invasion of the Mongols"

Wolfgang Kazak, a German Slavist and literary critic, described V. Jan's trilogy as follows: “This epic is based on a thorough study of the sources and performed with great conscientiousness; The trilogy captivates the reader with the fascination of the action.

The historical trilogy "Invasion of the Mongols" consists of three novels:

"Genghis Khan" (1934-1939) - about the conquest of Central Asia;
"Batu" (1939-1941) - about the conquest of North-Eastern Rus';
"To the "last" sea" (1942-1954) - about the conquest of Southern Rus' and the campaign to the west to the Adriatic Sea.
In 1942, an abbreviated version for children of the second novel in the trilogy, Batu, was created. It was called "Invasion of Batu".
The first two books of the trilogy aroused great interest among readers, including at the front, and in April 1942 Vasily Yan was awarded the Stalin Prize. The third book was published after the death of the author, in 1955.
The theme of the struggle of the ancestors of the peoples of the USSR with the Mongol conquerors in the XIII century. proved to be very relevant during the Great Patriotic War.

Vasily Grigorievich Yan (1875-1954)

His real name is Yanchevetsky. He took the pseudonym "Yan" much later, having already become a well-known publicist and author of plays for the city theater in Achinsk, Krasnoyarsk Territory.
The future writer was born in Kyiv in the family of a teacher, teacher of Latin and Greek.
Graduated from the Faculty of History and Philology of St. Petersburg University.
V. Yan's life was filled with many travels, adventures, changes in places and fields of activity. He lived in England, in many places in Central Asia; during the Russo-Japanese War in 1905-1906. worked as a war correspondent for the St. Petersburg Telegraph Agency in the Far East; taught a lot. Then again work as a correspondent, but already a telegraph agency in Turkey, and with the outbreak of the First World War - in Romania.
In 1918-1919. in the rank of colonel, he worked in the field printing house of the Russian army under Admiral Kolchak in Siberia. He was the editor and publisher of the front-line daily newspaper Vperyod (1919). In 1925-1927. served in Samarkand as an economist for Uzbek banks. Returning to Moscow in 1928, he began writing historical stories and short stories.
In total, he created 9 historical novels and stories, about 30 stories, plays and scripts, many essays and articles, as well as poems.

V. Yan's trilogy "Invasion of the Mongols"

The novel "Genghis Khan"

Statue of Genghis Khan in Mongolia
In the first novel, the writer tells the story of the life of the boy Temujin, whom his father named after the enemy he killed. The boy grows up without a father (he was poisoned), the family is in poverty and flees across the Mongolian steppe from numerous enemies. Temujin's brother betrays his family, and the young man kills his brother without hesitation. Temujin has been living in slavery for 14 years, fighting with a man who was his blood brother. And, finally, the Great Steppe proclaims him its only ruler, Genghis Khan.
The main part of the novel covers the period 1219-1220.
The author tells about the formation of the expansionist program of the Horde ruler Genghis Khan, shows the complex preparation of the conquering khan for battles with one of the mature feudal regions of Central Asia - Khorezm. Khorezm is an ancient region of Central Asia, centered on the lower reaches of the Amu Darya River. Irrigation agriculture, crafts and trade were developed here. First mentioned in sources from the 7th century. BC e. The Great Silk Road passed through Khorezm. The state of Khorezmshahs was at that time the richest and was a huge empire that stretched for many hundreds of kilometers, including on the modern map completely Turkmenistan, Iran, partly Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Afghanistan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Azerbaijan.
And now the hordes of Genghis Khan capture and ruin this state. Steeped in political intrigues, the ruling circles of Khorezm were unable to hold back the onslaught of Genghis Khan, and the masses, deprived of experienced leadership, also could not actively resist the conquerors.
This novel is not only about the victory of Genghis Khan, but also about the defeat and fall of the Khorezm Khan and the decline of his then powerful state.

Roman "Batu"

The second part of the trilogy is devoted to the description of the conquests of the grandson of Genghis Khan - Batu, who decided to subjugate the Russian lands.
His great grandfather has numerous sons and grandchildren. And in the Chinese campaign, the Great Khan dies, and the struggle for the Horde throne begins. In the steppe, while hunting, they break their backs (according to Mongolian laws, not a single drop of Khan's blood should be spilled on the ground) to Jochi, the son of Chingiz and the father of Batu. The young prince Batu hides in the steppe for the time being. And now he leads the campaign against Rus'

Batu is the successor to the work of Genghis Khan, the successor to his conquest program. Genghis Khan fulfilled part of the intended goal, capturing half of the world, and Batu must conquer the other half. The novel shows how Batu, having created the center of his Horde state on the southern Volga, moved on to expansion in Eastern Europe.
Before the reader, there are pictures of Batu's preparation for campaigns against Rus', and then the campaigns themselves, which ended with the capture and ruin of Ryazan, Moscow, and Vladimir.
The writer draws attention to the attitude of feudal Rus' to the Horde invaders, to energetic attempts to counter the onslaught of the Tatar-Mongol khans.
In decisive battles, Batu and his Horde won victories. Why? The writer gives the following answer to this question: the feudal fragmentation of the Russian land weakened the forces of the state; the princes and feudal lords did not have a stable national identity, but there was a readiness of many princes (for example, the Ryazan prince Gleb) to betray their country and each other; medieval Rus' was not ready for organized resistance to the invaders.
At the same time, the author sees among the people people who are able to show genuine patriotism in the fight against the enemy: Evpatiy Kolovrat, Toropko, Ratmir, and others.

The novel "To the last" sea"

The third and final part of the trilogy is devoted directly to the theme of the expansion of the Horde rulers in Asia and Europe and the selfless struggle of the peoples who fell victim to them. The difficult political situation in Eastern Europe in the early 40s of the 13th century, the growth and strengthening of the Horde state on the southern Volga, Batu's claims to complete the program of Horde conquests on the European continent - access to the shores of the "last" (Adriatic) sea are shown. The novel shows preparations for the campaigns of the Tatar-Mongol hordes, first to the middle Dnieper, then to the lands of Poland, Moravia, Hungary, and the Adriatic.
This is at the same time the story of the ruin and conquest of Rus'. The Mongols advance with the onset of winter, when all roads and rivers are frozen over. The army is divided into tens, hundreds, thousands. Iron discipline.

Mongolian horsemen
The fury of the Mongols is great - and now the whole Russian land is burning. The army goes to the West - to the sunset - to where the great Genghis Khan bequeathed, to the "last" sea. And here is the Adriatic Sea. But the unpretentious Mongolian horse, having tasted the water, snorts and turns its face up: salty. But it is impossible without a horse, and discontent is brewing in the army: the house is farther away, and the ends of the earth are not visible. Discord is everywhere: both in the army and in the distant Mongolian capital of Karakorum - there is a bloody struggle for the Khan's throne.
The Kyiv campaign of Batu is shown by the author in detail. The reader learns about the heroic defense of Kyiv, about the courage and political maturity of the defenders of the ancient Russian capital: all of its population stood up to defend the city, regardless of position, occupation, age, gender. The writer cites the following scene: before the start of the assault, Batu asks a Russian prisoner a question: “How many troops are in Kyiv?” And he answers him: “How many people, so many warriors. Now everyone took up the ax, the horn.” The people of Kiev are ready to defend their city, V. Yan perfectly described the direct preparation of the inhabitants for the siege and the fighting of the people of Kiev with the enemy on the city walls, on the streets, in temples. “It was not with courage, not with strength and valor that the enemies overcame,” the novel says, “but by their innumerable numbers, when for every Russian, and often not a warrior at all, but simply an artisan or city dweller who had not previously held a sword in his hands, there were three -four well-armed, battle-experienced Tatar warriors. However, no one asked for mercy, they only asked God for strength to endure to the end.
But, having taken possession of Kyiv, completely destroyed in street battles, the Tatar-Mongols could not profit from any prey here. The heroic defense of Kyiv is a repetition of the courageous defense of Ryazan and Vladimir, confirmation that the Russian people as a whole, despite all the difficulties and military failures, retained the ability to provide strong resistance to the invaders.
Further on the pages of the novel tells about the advancement of Batu's army after the Kyiv campaign further to the west, about the march of the Horde ruler to the "last" sea, about the military operations of the Tatar-Mongols in a number of countries of Eastern and Central Europe.
But Batu's large-scale conquest program was not implemented. This was prevented not only by the resistance of the peoples of the conquered countries, but also by the growing fear of Batu for his rear. He was worried about the lack of real control over the political life of the Russian lands, the independent behavior of Veliky Novgorod, as well as the intensification of strife in the ruling house of Genghisides itself. Therefore, Batu was forced to abandon further struggle along the coast of the "last" sea and return to the southern Volga to the Sarai he created.
Along with real historical figures, the trilogy shows fictional, generalized characters from the people. Using their examples, the writer shows the life of the common people, their struggle for freedom, love, and their hatred of the enemy.

Vasily Yan

This book is dedicated to the blessed memory of my unforgettable wife Maria Yan, the last one we worked on together.

Reader! This story will show “the selfless valor of man and insidious villainy; desperate struggle for freedom and brutal violence; vile betrayal and true friendship; it will be told how the inhabitants of the conquered countries suffered immensely when the iron detachments of Batu Khan passed through their lands, who, like a chip on the crest of a sea wave, was carried by an avalanche of hundreds of thousands of horsemen and lowered on the banks of the great river Itil, where this swarthy, narrow-eyed leader founded a powerful kingdom of the Golden Horde.

From "Notes of Haji Rakhim"

"... So, let's go on a long journey, to unknown countries, where tomorrow, today, and the day after tomorrow will bring you, reader, something that you don't know yet."

From an old Arabic story

Part one

Testament of Genghis Khan

If grief always smoked like fire

The whole world would be covered in smoke.

Shahid from Balkh, 9th century

Chapter one

In the hut of the eastern chronicler

A swarthy, dry hand quickly ran a reed over a narrow sheet of paper. The faqih read in an undertone the lines that appeared one after another, inscribed in Arabic script.

“... Asking everyone who knows, I wanted to know about the will of Genghis Khan. But misfortune befell me. In Bukhara I was seized by the holy imams.

Declaring that I was a great sinner who did not honor Allah, they locked me in a vile, low iron cage. Crawling in it on all fours like a hyena, I could not straighten up. My clothes had decayed, and I tied the ends of the holes. Once a day, the prison guard poured muddy water into my wooden bowl, but more often he forgot about it. Sometimes he brought a shackled slave, who, cursing, scraped the dirty floor of my cage with a hook. Relatives of other prisoners came up and looked at me with fear - after all, I was “cursed by the holy imams”, “condemned to eternal death and now and after death, where the fire will be his dwelling ...”.

The faqih straightened the burning wick of the clay lamp and continued to read:

“Once I noticed that near the cage, not afraid of ridicule and curses, there was a girl from a wandering tribe of fire-worshippers despised by the Kipchaks - Lyuli. She gave me a handful of raisins and nuts and ran away. The next day she appeared again, wrapped in a long black shawl that reached to the ground. The girl silently slipped along the prison wall and brought me a tortilla and a piece of melon. Then, grabbing the bars of the cage with swarthy fingers in silver rings, she gazed at me for a long time with her black impenetrable eyes and whispered softly:

- Pray for me!

I thought she was laughing and turned away. But the next day she again stood near the cage and again insistently repeated:

– Pray for me that my warrior returns, my happiness!

“I don’t know how to pray, and why?” After all, I am cursed by the holy imams!

- Imams are worse than the crafty Iblis. They swell with malice and importance. If they cursed you, then you are a righteous man. Ask the mercy of Allah for me and for the one who is far away.

I promised to fulfill her request. The girl came a few more times. For her consolation, I said that I repeat at night nine nine times prayers that bring happiness.

One day a girl - her name was Bent-Zankija - came with a young man who did not know a smile. He had shoulder-length black curls, silver arms, and yellow high boots with pointed heels. He silently looked at me and turned to the girl:

- Yes, it is he ... who does not know cunning ... I will help him!

We looked into each other's eyes for a long time. In order not to ruin ourselves in front of the jailer, who was vigilantly looking at us, we were afraid to admit that we were brothers ... The tall young man was Tugan - my younger brother, whom I lost a long time ago and did not hope to see again! ..

This book is dedicated to the blessed memory of my unforgettable wife Maria Yan, the last one we worked on together.

Reader!

This story will show "... the selfless valor of man and insidious villainy; a desperate struggle for freedom and cruel violence; vile betrayal and true friendship; it will be told how the inhabitants of the conquered countries suffered immensely when the iron detachments of Batu Khan passed through their lands , who, like a chip on the crest of a sea wave, was carried by an avalanche of hundreds of thousands of horsemen and lowered on the banks of the great river Itil, where this swarthy, narrow-eyed leader founded the powerful kingdom of the Golden Horde.

Part one.
GENGHIS KHAN'S WITNESS

If grief always smoked like fire, then the whole world would be wrapped in smoke.

Shahid from Balkh, 9th century

1. IN THE HUT OF THE EASTERN CHRONICER

A swarthy, dry hand quickly ran a reed over a narrow sheet of paper. The faqih read in an undertone the lines that appeared one after another, inscribed in Arabic script. The hut was quiet. The monotonous voice of the faqih was echoed by the monotonous rustle of continuous rain falling on the reed roof.

- "... Asking all those who knew, I wanted to know about the will of Genghis Khan. But misfortune befell me. In Bukhara, I was captured by the holy imams.

Declaring that I am a great sinner who does not honor Allah, they locked me in a vile, low iron cage. Crawling in it on all fours like a hyena, I could not straighten up. My clothes had decayed, and I tied the ends of the holes. Once a day, the prison guard poured muddy water into my wooden bowl, but more often he forgot about it. Sometimes he brought a shackled slave, who, cursing, scraped the dirty floor of my cage with a hook. Relatives of other prisoners came up and looked at me with fear - after all, I was "cursed by the holy imams", "condemned to eternal death and now and after death, where the fire will be his dwelling ...".

The faqih straightened the burning wick of the clay lamp and continued to read:

- "Once I noticed that near the cage, not afraid of ridicule and curses, there was a girl from the wandering tribe of fire-worshippers despised by the Kipchaks. She gave me a handful of raisins and nuts and ran away. The next day she appeared again, wrapped in a long black shawl to the ground The girl silently slipped along the prison wall and brought me a cake and a piece of melon.Then, grasping the bars of the cage with swarthy fingers in silver rings, she gazed at me for a long time with black impenetrable eyes and whispered softly:

- Pray for me!

I thought she was laughing and turned away. But the next day she again stood near the cage and again insistently repeated:

– Pray for me that my warrior returns, my happiness!

“I don’t know how to pray, and why?” After all, I am cursed by the holy imams!

- Imams are worse than the crafty Iblis. They swell with malice and importance. If they cursed you, then you are a righteous man. Ask the mercy of Allah for me and for the one who is far away.

I promised to fulfill her request. The girl came a few more times. For her consolation, I said that I repeat at night nine nine times prayers that bring happiness.

One day a girl - her name was Bent-Zankija - came with a young man who did not know a smile. He had shoulder-length black curls, silver arms, and yellow high boots with pointed heels. He silently looked at me and turned to the girl:

– Yes, it is he... not knowing deceit... I will help him!

We looked into each other's eyes for a long time. In order not to ruin ourselves in front of the jailer, who was looking at us vigilantly, we were afraid to admit that we were brothers ... The tall young man was Tugan - my younger brother, whom I lost a long time ago and did not hope to see again! ..

Looking at the girl and as if talking to her, Tugan said:

“Listen to me, righteous man, damned by the imams, and do as I say. I brought three black balloons. You will swallow them. Then your mind will fly away from here over the mountains to the valley of cool streams and fragrant flowers. Horses white as snow graze there and golden birds sing with human voices. There you will meet the girl you loved at the age of sixteen.

I interrupted the young man:

- And then, when I wake up, I will again gnaw on the iron bars of the cage? I don't need this kind of sleep!

- Wait to argue, indomitable, and listen further ... While your mind will enjoy unclouded oblivion in the mountain valley of white horses, I will tell your jailers that you are dead. According to the laws of faith, your body will be buried immediately. Blacksmith slaves will break the cage, hook the body with hooks and drag the executed into the pit. No matter how painful it is, don't scream or cry! Otherwise, they will break your head with an iron mace... At midnight, when you lie in a pit among the corpses and dogs and jackals crawl up to gnaw your legs, I will wait with three warriors. We will wrap you in a cloak and quickly carry you to our camp. We will start beating tambourines and copper cauldrons, singing songs and calling your mind from the valley of oblivion. I swear life will return to your body and you will wake up. Then, jumping on a horse, you will go far, to other countries, where you will start a new life ... "

Fakih woke up and listened. He thought he heard a rustle behind the thin wall of the hut. For a few moments he remained motionless, then he began to write again:

“It happened as the young man who did not know a smile said. Thanks to courageous help, I unexpectedly found myself free, exhausted, exhausted, but alive. For several days I stayed with the fire worshipers in the sandy steppe, and then headed for the city of Sygnak, where I began a second life. .."

This book is dedicated to the blessed memory of my unforgettable wife Maria Yan, the last one we worked on together.

V. Jan

Reader! This story will show “the selfless valor of man and insidious villainy; desperate struggle for freedom and brutal violence; vile betrayal and true friendship; it will be told how the inhabitants of the conquered countries suffered immensely when the iron detachments of Batu Khan passed through their lands, who, like a chip on the crest of a sea wave, was carried by an avalanche of hundreds of thousands of horsemen and lowered on the banks of the great river Itil, where this swarthy, narrow-eyed leader founded a powerful kingdom of the Golden Horde.

From "Notes of Haji Rakhim"

"... So, let's go on a long journey, to unknown countries, where tomorrow, today, and the day after tomorrow will bring you, reader, something that you don't know yet."

From an old Arabic story

Part one
Testament of Genghis Khan

If grief always smoked like fire

The whole world would be covered in smoke.

Shahid from Balkh, 9th century

Chapter one
In the hut of the eastern chronicler

A swarthy, dry hand quickly ran a reed over a narrow sheet of paper. Fakih 1
Faqih - scholar, well-read, jurist.

“... Asking everyone who knows, I wanted to know about the will of Genghis Khan.2
Genghis Khan (1155-1227) - Mongol commander, the largest Asian conqueror and creator of an empire that stretched from Korea to the Black Sea. The forward detachments of the troops of Genghis Khan under the command of Jebe and Subudai-bagatur (mentioned in this story) reached the banks of the Dnieper, where they met with Russian and Polovtsian troops. The Mongols began to retreat to the Sea of ​​Azov, where a battle took place near the Kalka River (1224), in which the Russian-Polovtsian army was defeated. This offensive by Chebe and Subudai Bagatur was a preliminary reconnaissance made on the orders of Genghis Khan, who planned a campaign to the West to conquer all of Europe.

The plan of Genghis Khan was partly carried out by his grandson Batu, who reached the shores of the Adriatic Sea with his army. Genghis Khan's invasion of Central Asia (1220–1225) is described in the first book of this trilogy.

But misfortune befell me. In Bukhara I was seized by the holy imams.3
Imam is a Muslim cleric.

Declaring that I was a great sinner who did not honor Allah, they locked me in a vile, low iron cage. Crawling in it on all fours like a hyena, I could not straighten up. My clothes had decayed, and I tied the ends of the holes. Once a day, the prison guard poured muddy water into my wooden bowl, but more often he forgot about it. Sometimes he brought a shackled slave, who, cursing, scraped the dirty floor of my cage with a hook. Relatives of other prisoners came up and looked at me with fear - after all, I was “cursed by the holy imams”, “condemned to eternal death and now and after death, where the fire will be his dwelling ...”.

The faqih straightened the burning wick of the clay lamp and continued to read:

“Once I noticed that near the cage, not afraid of ridicule and curses, there was a girl from a wandering tribe of fire-worshippers despised by the Kipchaks - Lyuli. She gave me a handful of raisins and nuts and ran away. The next day she appeared again, wrapped in a long black shawl that reached to the ground. The girl silently slipped along the prison wall and brought me a tortilla and a piece of melon. Then, grabbing the bars of the cage with swarthy fingers in silver rings, she gazed at me for a long time with her black impenetrable eyes and whispered softly:

- Pray for me!

I thought she was laughing and turned away. But the next day she again stood near the cage and again insistently repeated:

– Pray for me that my warrior returns, my happiness!

“I don’t know how to pray, and why?” After all, I am cursed by the holy imams!

- Imams are worse than the crafty Iblis.4
Iblis is the spirit of evil in Arabic mythology, mentioned in the Koran.

They swell with malice and importance. If they cursed you, then you are a righteous man. Ask the mercy of Allah for me and for the one who is far away.

I promised to fulfill her request. The girl came a few more times. For her consolation, I said that I repeat at night nine nine times prayers that bring happiness.5
For many peoples of the East, the number "nine" is considered sacred and happy.

One day a girl - her name was Bent-Zankija - came with a young man who did not know a smile. He had shoulder-length black curls, silver arms, and yellow high boots with pointed heels. He silently looked at me and turned to the girl:

- Yes, it is he ... who does not know cunning ... I will help him!

We looked into each other's eyes for a long time. In order not to ruin ourselves in front of the jailer, who was vigilantly looking at us, we were afraid to admit that we were brothers ... The tall young man was Tugan - my younger brother, whom I lost a long time ago and did not hope to see again! ..

Looking at the girl and as if talking to her, Tugan said:

“Listen to me, righteous man, damned by the imams, and do as I say. I brought three black balloons. You will swallow them. Then your mind will fly away from here over the mountains to the valley of cool streams and fragrant flowers. Horses white as snow graze there and golden birds sing with human voices. There you will meet the girl you loved at the age of sixteen.

I interrupted the young man:

- And then, when I wake up, I will again gnaw on the iron bars of the cage? I don't need this kind of sleep!

- Wait to argue, indomitable, and listen further ... While your mind will enjoy the unclouded oblivion in the mountain valley of white horses, I will tell your jailers that you are dead. According to the laws of faith, your body will be buried immediately. Blacksmith slaves will break the cage, hook the body with hooks and drag the executed into the pit. No matter how painful it is, don't scream or cry! Otherwise, your head will be crushed with an iron mace... At midnight, when you lie in a pit among the corpses and dogs and jackals crawl up to gnaw your legs, I will wait with three warriors. We will wrap you in a cloak and quickly carry you to our camp. We will start beating tambourines and copper cauldrons, singing songs and calling your mind from the valley of oblivion. I swear life will return to your body and you will wake up. Then, jumping on a horse, you will go far, to other countries, where you will start a new life ... "

Fakih woke up and listened. He thought he heard a rustle behind the thin wall of the hut. For a few moments he remained motionless, then he began to write again:

“It happened as the young man who did not know a smile said. Thanks to courageous help, I suddenly found myself free, exhausted, exhausted, but alive. For several days I stayed with the fire-worshippers in the sandy steppe, and then went to the city of Sygnak,6
Sygnak - in the XIII century, a rich trading city on the Syr Darya, the original capital of the Dzhuchiev ulus. Now only deserted hills, pits and several ruins of arches and mausoleums, which speak of the former wealth of Sygnak, remain from it.

where he began his second life ... "

Chapter Two
Guest from darkness

Fakih Haji Rahim stopped again, carefully placed the writing reed on the copper tray, and ran his hand over his graying beard. Behind the thin wall, through the noise of evenly falling drops, a rustle was clearly heard.

“Whose steps could be in the darkness of this cold autumn night? Only an evil person, pushed by an evil intent, will wander in a damp fog ... "

A clay lamp on a bunch of old books cast a dim light on uneven, smoky walls, an old carpet, and a haggard, motionless scientist. The piece of motley cloth covering the narrow window wavered slightly.

The big white dog, curled up by the door, pricked up his ear and growled low. A swarthy hand reached through the window and lifted the edge of the curtain. Black eyes gleamed in the darkness.

- Who is there? asked Haji Rakhim and put his hand on the head of the jumping dog. - Lie down, Akbay!

- Warm up the one who lost his way! Let your wet clothes dry! The stranger spoke in a barely audible whisper.

“He says that he is afraid of noise…” thought the faqih. “Can you trust him?”

- I see you have books ... Are you a teacher Haji Rakhim?

- You're not mistaken - it's me!

“Then let me in!” The Grand Vizier Maverannagra Mahmud-Yalvach sends salam to you...

- This name will open the door of my hut to the visitor, which is closed to everyone else.

The faqih drew back the wooden bolt, and the stranger, bending down, stepped through the door. Tanned, stocky, in Mongolian style, he straightened up and looked around. Hadji Rakhim, holding back the snarling dog, watched the newcomer. Confidence and authority were felt in all his movements. He untied his belt, took off his outer garment, and hung it on a wooden nail. Pulling off his wet yellow boots with difficulty, the night visitor threw them aside and sank down on an old, worn rug near the dying hearth. Then, just as calmly as if at home, he wiped his wet hands on the sheepskin coat lying on the carpet.

- We must put out the fire! - The Mongol pinched the smoking wick of the clay lamp with his fingers. It became completely dark, only a slit in the window lit up in place of the curtain.

- Why did you do that? whispered the faqih.

“Armed men are chasing me, the murderers of my father,” the Mongol replied in a whisper. “They want to kill me too. Your luminous window can be seen from afar; so, despite the dark night, I found you... Get the dog out!

This dog is my only protector...

- Get her away! She growls and makes noise all over Sygnak.

Don't be afraid of the Defender!

The dog will walk around the house and warn us if vile people come here.

Fakih, involuntarily obeying the authoritative guest, opened the door and pushed the shaggy dog ​​out into the darkness. Haji Rakhim stopped, hesitating whether it would be better to run away, but a strong hand pulled him back. The guest himself pushed the wooden bolt, without releasing the faqih, led him to the carpet and knelt down with him. He began to whisper hastily, interrupting his speech and listening when the dog behind the thin wall began to grumble:

- Don't open the bolt. They can jump up and watch the door. They treacherously killed my father, breaking his back, and I will boil them alive in a cauldron. By the eternal blue sky, I will do it!..If you try to run away from here, I will strangle you!..

The stranger lay down on his side, muttering something, but did not let go of his master's hand, squeezing it tightly with hot fingers. He was shaking with a fever. Suddenly he jumped up, listened, and went back to the wall.

- It's them! he whispered. “Death has caught up with me!” Look, don't betray me!

Outside came the furious barking of a dog. Someone approached, arguing voices were heard. A strong blow shook the wall.

- Hey, master! Open the door.

Haji Rahim replied:

“Who dares to disturb the clerk of the district chief at night?”

"Open it soon, or we'll tear your lair to pieces!" We're looking for an escaped criminal.

“For two days I have been lying sick, no one has come to kindle a fire and warm water for me. Look for the criminal in the reeds, and not in the house of a peaceful copyist of books.

Rough voices continued to argue, someone knocked on the door. Suddenly a wild cry, like the roar of a wounded animal, covered the noise. There were screams and groans. They began to move away and fell silent. Hadji Rakhim wanted to speak, but the visitor's hand covered his mouth.

"You don't know how treacherous they are," he whispered in her ear. They do everything on purpose. Some have gone to hide in ambush, and others may lie in wait outside the door. We must wait and prepare for battle.

Both went to the narrow window, holding their breath, trying to see something in the darkness of the night. Indistinct rustles were heard, sometimes the light rain rustled more strongly on the leaves.

Chapter Three
A weak man without a horse

When the curtain of the window turned pink from the first rays of the sun, the stranger pulled on his boots, examined his wet blue chapan 7
Chapan - long, below the knees, outerwear, caftan.

And threw him into a corner. Without asking the owner's consent, he removed an old, faded cloak from a wooden nail and with difficulty pulled it over his broad shoulders.

- I feel bad without a horse! It will be difficult to slip away... Perhaps your torn cloak will help out. I pretend to be nothing...

He went to the door and peered through the crack. He quickly pulled back and leaned against the wall. After hesitating, he made a sign to the faqih to open the door.

A faint knock was heard. Hadji Rakhim pushed back the bolt and the door swung open.

On the threshold, in the light of the pink dawn, stood, smiling, a girl, almost a girl, in a long, to the toe, orange shirt, with blue beads on a swarthy neck. She held an earthenware jug covered with a wide green leaf. On the sheet lay three freshly baked, toasted cakes.

- As-salaam-alaikum, Haji Rahim! the girl said carelessly, and two merry dimples played on her cheeks. “My venerable benefactor Nazar-Kyarizek sends you freshly milked milk, these hot cakes, and asks if you need anything else.

Having accepted the jug with words of gratitude, Haji Rakhim followed the girl out of the hut. The brambles gleamed with raindrops. The old dog Akbay sat on the path, squinting with bloodshot eyes.

A man was lying on the damp grass. He was covered by a gray woolen cloak, such as Arabs wear. A white saddled horse tied to a lasso was nibbling the grass in the distance. He impatiently raised his small head with black lively eyes and shook his silky mane, driving away the curly horseflies.

Fakih returned to the hut. The night visitor was waiting at the door:

- Farewell, my teacher Haji Rakhim!

The faqih held the stranger by the sleeve:

- Take food for the road!

"Don't you recognize me by now?" the guest asked, hiding the hot cakes in his bosom. “Ten years ago you taught me how to keep the kalyam. 8
Kalam is a pen for writing made from reed.

And write difficult Arabic words. I forgot a lot, but I won’t forget two words: “Cihan-gir” - the conqueror of the universe ... Soon you will hear about me! I will send for you...

He stopped on the threshold and looked at the girl with surprise:

- What is your name? Where are you from?

My name is Yulduz. 9
Yulduz is a star.

I am an orphan, I live with Nazar-Kyarizek.

He quickly stepped over the threshold and saw a white horse:

“Here is the horse sent to me by heaven!” It will be the horse of my victories, like the white Seter, the marching horse of Genghis Khan. Now I'm strong again.

With a soft, predatory gait, the young Mongol slid across the grass to the white horse, noiselessly pulled the iron pin out of the ground, and, curling the lasso into a ring, easily climbed into the saddle. The hot horse took off at a gallop and disappeared behind a poplar grove.

The girl looked with surprised eyes after the stranger, then turned her brilliant gaze to Haji Rahim. He stood motionless, thoughtfully putting his hand on his beard.

- Is that a robber? the girl asked.

- This is an extraordinary person!

- Why? Did he steal someone else's horse?

- He will conquer kingdoms on it ... Go home, little star Yulduz! Tell the venerable Nazar-Kyarizek that the sick faqih thanks and remembers his care and mercy.

The girl quickly turned and ran a few steps, then walked sedately along the path, trying to hold on like an adult.

The gray cloak stirred. The old dog jumped back and barked hoarsely. From under the cloak appeared the head of a young man with black curly hair. He quickly jumped up, raised the swirling blue turban and pulled it over his right eyebrow. It was a warrior, with a curved saber and two daggers on his belt.

- Where is my horse? he shouted and, running up to the place where the white stallion had just been grazing, he leaned to the ground, looking at the tracks. - I know: a man in Mongolian boots approached the horse ... He stole my war horse! Why my bright saber, if the thief is far away! .. Without a horse, I am weak, like a falcon with broken wings! What a warrior I am now! - And, clutching his temples, the young man fell to the ground with a groan.

“Do not grieve,” said the faqih, coming up. “A man left on your horse who will give you a thousand mares in return ...

The young man lay motionless, and Haji Rakhim consoled him:

- Believe me, you have not lost anything, and maybe you have gained a lot ...

- It was my faithful, tested friend! .. On it I rushed into battle, and more than once it saved me from death. Woe to a warrior without a horse!

- I know the one who is riding your white horse now, and I say that your horse will return to you! This is as true as my name is faqih Haji Rahim.

The young man stood up, with a sharp movement picked up his cloak from the ground and bowed before the scientist:

- If I see in front of me the faqih Haji Rahim, famous for his knowledge, nicknamed al-Baghdadi, then I believe your words. May there be comfort, space and grace in your home! I ask for mercy and wise advice to a wanderer who has come from the distant mountains of Kurdistan. Greetings from Jalal ed-Din, 10
Jalal ed-Din Mengburni, a talented commander, the son of the last Shah of Khorezm, fought stubbornly against Genghis Khan and the Mongol conquerors all his life (see the first book of the Genghis Khan trilogy).

The bravest of heroes!

- My young brother! Faqih said. “You passed unscathed through the abyss of disasters in terrible days when the universe is shaking, and brought me words of greeting from a distant illustrious hero – in this you gave me double joy. Come into my humble home!

Chapter Four
Dzhigit's life path

I tied my life and my age

To the point of my spear.

Poem "Jangar"

The young warrior entered, crouching, through the narrow door of the hut and sat on his heels at the very entrance. Hadji Rakhim sank down on an old rug near the hearth. Both stroked their cheeks with their palms, then, as decency requires, they were silent for a long time, examining each other.

Finally, with the dignity and sadness of a man who has seen many people in his lifetime, the faqih joined the ends of his fingers and said:

- Who are you? What kind of? What name did your white-bearded father give you? In which distant country did you first see the light of the sun? Although you speak Kipchak, your movements and clothes show that you are a foreigner.

The warrior, coughing politely into his hand, spoke in an even, quiet voice:

- My name is Arapsha, but my comrades gave me the nickname "An-Nasir", 11
An-Nasir - victorious (Arabic).

Because in battle, they say, I lose my mind, become angry, rush into the most dangerous fights and put the enemy to flight ... Although I told you that my name is Arapsha, but how my venerable father called me and where I spent my childhood - I swear ! - I do not know. I vaguely remember that I lived in a forest near a lake, swam with my father in a boat and saw how he poured many silvery fish out of the net into a basket. I remember how warm it was to lie in my mother's arms and listen to her songs. I still remember my little sister... Then it all ended. Robbers attacked and took me and my sister to a big city, where they sold us to a sailing ship. There were a lot of boys and girls on the ship. The shipbuilders stuffed us into the hold of the ship and locked us up with a herd of great white geese. The geese nibbled and pecked at us. The ship sailed along a wide river, then across the sea. The shipbuilders sold the children at the market. I never met them or my sister again.

- All this is due to the disastrous passion of merchants for wealth. Blinded by the glitter of gold, greedy merchants seized children and threw them into foreign cities, where they will have to drag out the painful yoke of slavery all their lives! Faqih sighed.

“Probably, I am from some northern country: Mordvins, Saksins or Uruses,” continued Arapsha, “because these slaves, especially the Uruses, are famous for their strength. And Allah rewarded me with a great fortress. I was sold at the slave market in Derbent, where the Caucasian Iron Gates are located. I have moved from one owner to another. When I grew up, they forced me to perform the most difficult work: together with a donkey, turn a wheel to draw water from a well, with a block around my neck, dig up the earth dried up like a stone, carry logs. And the sky during the years of my slavery seemed to me so black and dry, like a foreign land dug up by me! ..

Haji Rahim bitterly said:

- The owner would rather pity a four-legged beast than a gifted slave!

“I was seventeen years old when the path of my life turned the other way. Once I pastured on the slope of a high steep mountain the rams of my master, the Azerbaijani Khan. Suddenly, a detachment of horsemen appeared over the steep. Ahead, on a beautiful black horse, rode a young warrior. Suddenly, the earth washed away by rains settled under the horse, and he rolled into the abyss. Dodging like a cat, the warrior held on to a bush. I dropped the end of the lasso and pulled out the warrior. I said, "I can save your horse too!" The knight replied: "If you save my black one, you can ask me whatever you want." The jigits loosened two lassoes, with one I tied myself around my waist and slid down the cliff. The horse miraculously stayed on the very edge of the abyss and calmly plucked the grass. The angry stallion snorted when I approached him, but I wrapped him in a lasso, and the horsemen dragged the horse onto the path. It was difficult for me to climb back, the fetters on my legs interfered with me ...

- Brave young man! The sky kept you! exclaimed Haji Rakhim.

- The warrior began to ask me about the road. I told him about all the paths, warned him about the places where the Kurds usually ambush and attack passers-by, and advised him on the best detour. Then he asked me: “What do you want now?” - "To be free!" I replied. The knight said: “Follow me, and you will earn fame with your sword! ..” The warrior turned out to be the famous wanderer Jalal ed-Din, who was not afraid to fight the Mongols and defeated them at Pervan. 12
Pervan is a city in the northern part of Afghanistan, near which Jalal ed-Din, commanding the Turkic troops, defeated the stronger army of the Mongols.

From that day on, I became a warrior in his squad. Jalal ed-Din gave me a crooked saber and a warhorse, which I lost today, shamelessly falling asleep! And the young man groaned again.

- On the day when I, free, on a hot horse, found myself in the detachment of the glorious Jalal ed-Din, I saw that the sky above me was not black, but was shining again, blue, like turquoise, as in my distant childhood, when I sailed on a boat on a forest lake with his father. And then I realized that there is nothing sweeter than freedom in the world!.. For three years I followed the brave commander everywhere, protecting him in battle, and became famous as "An-Nasir - victorious." Jalal ed-Din told me more than once that in Khorezm, enslaved by the Mongols, he knew one scholar, faqih, the brightest of the bright and valiant people, a seeker of truth, Haji Rahim, nicknamed al-Baghdadi. “If,” he said, “a black cloud of trouble approaches you, tell him my name, and he will extend a hand of mercy to you ...”

Hadji Rakhim got up, went up to Arapsha and held out both hands to him:

- The name of Jalal ad-Din shines for me like a bright star in the dark night. Sit next to me!

Fakih and Arapsha joined hands, pressed their shoulders together and then sat down next to each other on an old rug.

- Tell me now, my young friend Arapsha An-Nasir, why did you part with the valiant Jalal ad-Din? Is he alive? Did it fall into the hands of the merciless Mongols? The wind of surprise often turns a person's life around. Sometimes a brave warrior, it would seem, has already reached the pinnacle of perfection, but suddenly falls into the abyss of misfortune and returns to where he started ...

- It happened to me too! – said the young man. “After an unsuccessful clash with a detachment of Mongols for Jalal ed-Din, I escaped with difficulty and barely escaped capture. After that, I no longer met with my brave patron, who had gone far to the west. I headed east along the mountain paths, fought off a band of wild mountaineers, and finally joined the caravan leaving for Khorezm. I was burning with the desire to see new countries and therefore agreed with the merchants to guard their caravan. On the way through the desert we were attacked by robbers. I went mad with rage, cut down a few robbers and put the rest to flight. However, the merchants did not appreciate this. Arriving safely in Khorezm, they gave me so little for their salvation - may Allah punish them! – that I hardly got here, to Sygnak. Here I decided to look for you, torch of wisdom and beacon of knowledge, venerable Hadji Rahim. When I drove up to your house last night, I heard in the dark that some people were breaking down your door. I gave them my battle cry, attacked them, wounded three, cut off the ear of one, and the robbers ran without looking back.

Mongol invasion - 2

Reader!
This story will show "... the selfless valor of man and insidious villainy; a desperate struggle for freedom and cruel violence;

Vile betrayal and true friendship; it will be told how the inhabitants of the conquered countries suffered immeasurably when they passed through their lands

The iron detachments of Batu Khan, who, like a chip on the crest of a sea wave, were carried by an avalanche of hundreds of thousands of horsemen and lowered on the banks of the great river

Itil, where this swarthy narrow-eyed leader founded the powerful kingdom of the Golden Horde.
From "Notes of Haji Rakhim".

PART ONE
GENGHIS KHAN'S WITNESS

If grief always smoked like fire
The whole world would be covered in smoke.
Shaheed from Balkh, 9th century.

Chapter 1
IN THE HUT OF THE EASTERN RECENT

A swarthy, dry hand quickly ran a reed over a narrow sheet of paper. The faqih recited in an undertone the lines that appeared one after another, inscribed

Arabic script.
The hut was quiet. The monotonous voice of the faqih was echoed by the monotonous rustle of continuous rain falling on the reed roof.
- "... Asking everyone who knows, I wanted to know about the will of Genghis Khan.
But misfortune befell me. In Bukhara I was seized by the holy imams."
Declaring that I am a great sinner who does not honor Allah, they locked me in a vile, low iron cage. Crawling in it on all fours like

Hyena, I couldn't straighten up. My clothes had decayed, and I tied the ends of the holes. Once a day, the prison guard poured into my wooden bowl a cloudy

Water, but often forgot about it. Sometimes he brought a shackled slave, who, cursing, scraped the dirty floor of my cage with a hook. fit

Relatives of other prisoners looked at me with fear - after all, I was "cursed by the holy imams", "condemned to eternal death and now

And after death, where the fire will be his dwelling..." - the faqih straightened the burnt wick of the clay lamp and continued to read:
- "Once I noticed that near the cage, not afraid of ridicule and curses, there was a girl from a wandering tribe despised by the Kipchaks

Fire worshipers Luli. She gave me a handful of raisins and nuts and ran away. The next day she appeared again, wrapped in a long black

Shawl. The girl silently slipped along the prison wall and brought me a tortilla and a piece of melon.
Then, grasping the bars of the cage with swarthy fingers in silver rings, she gazed at me for a long time with her black, impenetrable eyes.

Eyes and whispered softly:
- Pray for me!
I thought she was laughing and turned away. But the next day she again stood near the cage and again insistently repeated:
- Pray for me to return my warrior, my happiness!
- I don't know how to pray, and why? After all, I am cursed by the holy imams!
- Imams are worse than crafty Eblis. They swell with malice and importance. If they cursed you, then you are a righteous man. Ask for the mercy of Allah and

For me and for those who are far away.
I promised to fulfill her request. The girl came a few more times. For her consolation, I said that I repeat at night nine nine times

Prayers that bring happiness.