'Ai Orsa' – The Hunt, A Saka Novel

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    • Shahrasayr

    Shahrasayr

    Ai Orsa – The Hunt, A Saka Novel
    by Lil'Shah/Shahrasayr​


    “We were hunted by the hunted, who were hunted by the greatest of hunters. We were forced to leave our grazing lands, to leave the lands of our forefathers so we could promise our younger the opportunity to be able to ride freely, to sleep at night peacefully. Now we ride south in search of such a homeland. We are the children of the steppe and we have been hunted for too long. This is now our hunt. We shall become the predator after living as a herd of prey for too long.” ​

    Mogha sat on his horse viewing the city in a distance. He stood there watching the hustle and bustle of the city go by, its walls being manned by men of Greek costume and dress. He just sat there, his horse munching on the luscious grass near the city. As he sat, another well decked Scythian horseman rode up from behind him, in a rush to inform him of something special. He whispered something in his ear, awaiting Mogha’s reply.

    The man merely smirked, before turning his horse around and starting to make it canter away from the city. He was scared inside even though he tried not to show it. His invaders and hunters were coming and he had a feeling they too were running from something, though what it was he dared not dream.

    He had to at least attempt to make a peaceful entry into home for his tribe. He needed less blood to be shed for he needed to keep his promise to his people. Yet if the need came, the Greek blood that would be shed would be nothing compared to the greater massacre the Saka would have to face.

    ************​
    “You mock us barbarian. You think after centuries of barbarism and raiding, we would let your filthy kind into our lands? You claim to lead tribes of Scythians and claim to be fleeing from some greater threat, yet I don’t give a damn who or what you are enemies are Maues. You shall not gain entry the lands of Eucratides, do you understand?” shouted the man in Greek

    Mogha having picked up bits of the sentence due to his tuition by the sages in both dialects of Greek and many other languages. He was starting to lose his patience due to the incompetence of the man in front of him.

    He could tell even the man’s lieutenants were not completely comfortable about the decisions he was making. He was trying to insult Mogha’s honour and heritage, the foolish, wine drunk pig he was.

    Clenching his fists and leaning closer on the table and directly in front of the man’s face, he quietly said:

    “Look yavana, I have had enough of your insolence. I came here with an offer of friendship, an offer that would have made people willingly people become your servants and loyally serve you and your lord Eucratides, who may I remind you is on his death bed, his sons conspiring to usurp each other.

    It’s a shame, as I was raised to consider the realm of Eucratides as the greatest king and his realm as the most glorious one, yet I am now reminded by your behaviour and idiocy that these were foolish thoughts and war combined with bloodshed is the only way to get a message through to you yavanas. Our talks are over. I look forward to greeting you on the battle field and will save an arrow for you.”

    With this Mogha marched out of the room, his entourage of various Saka chiefs in tow. He was now determined to get into lands further south, willing to do whatever it takes to lead the Saka that far south. His sheep could no longer feed of their old pastures and needed greener ones. And such land could be found in the hills of Sughd, in the kingdom of the Yavanas.


    ********************************************

    Yes here I am, writing another TL even though I should be focusing on the Iron Pillar or Khybar Ghati but my interest in the Scythian tribes stops me. This novel dwells on the concept of the Indo-Scythian kingdoms and their culture, and what would happen if a surviving Greco-Indo-Scythian culture remains on the Indian sub-continent.

    Sughd- Sogdiana or Sogdia
    Yavana/s- Greeks, mainly referring to the ones of the Greco-Baktrian Kingdom here. Their falling apart, as the last great king Euacratides is dying
     
    Last edited:
  • Index
    • Mogha I
  • Index
    • Shahrasayr

    Shahrasayr

    A Week Later, On the Fields outside Alexandria Eschate/ Khujanda

    images

    the Plains and Hills of the Battle​

    The men lay ready, containing and whispering words of encouragement to their horses, their oldest and closest friends. They were messing around with their quivers, stringing their bows and watching their own reflections in their swords, perhaps a last glimpse of themselves in these most tough of the times. They were all men of the Steppe, tough born to ride, doing so since the day they were born.

    Mogha, rode in front of the men in pride, his left hand man and symbol bearer, Hora in tow. He was proud of what he saw, all the different men of the Saka tribes together, together to face a common enemy. He could make out the Stag symbol of the Saka Rauka, the Oak tree and the Ram of the Mahs Saka (Massagetae) and he could even see the twin dragons of the Daha tribesmen in a distance.

    He slowly cantered his force around to the approximate middle of his forces, signalling for Hora to blow the Kharinaa, a horn made of a stag’s horns and shaped like a stag. Hora blew on the horn with full force, getting the attention of almost all of the men, the rest being silenced by their comrade’s sudden stop to his chatter.

    Mogha started to canter his horse across the place before finally raising his fist to show his call for might and addressing them with:

    “O scions of Utarvyusa and Ajina, children of Ahura Mazda, I beckon you to heed my words. We have been forced to leave our grazing lands by dark forces, our homes have now been reduced to nothing. I reach out to you to heed my call, for I have taken it as a responsibility lead you to a new homeland.

    The Yavanas before us think themselves great, they think they have true bravery and loyalty, they think they are virtuous warriors. Yet we are the true noble hearted ones. We have led our families and herds away from danger and we will not be able to protect them any further if we do not crush the enemy today. We gave the Yavana a choice, a chance of friendship. They turned it down, now let them taste the steel of Veshparkhar.”

    The uproar sent from the horsemen was wild, the echoes of the war cry sent reaching the Greek soldiers and sending a shiver down their spines.

    The horsemen were starting to flow into their positions, taking formation on the lower part of the Fergana hills. They were opposed by the Greco-Bactrians, who were already waiting patiently for them, the cool air of the Fergana valley flowing through the hills. For at least ten minutes there was no movement on either sides, the birds chirping or some Bactrian camels munching on in the distance. Mogha just stood there waiting for the Greeks to make the first move, hoping to find an instant fault in their tactics.

    No such movement came, flustering Mogha. How could he have been wrong? Had he not studied the classic tactics of the Yavanas for ages? Had he not tried to understand how they thought in the art of war? Yet here he was wrong, his chiefs passing him a look of expectance. He had to take the initiative, he had to define the future of his peoples, he would be the reason either they died or triumphed over these arrogant foreigners.

    He gave the signal for his right wing to start moving forward, the Greeks positioned in an overlapping position on the bottom of the hills. He gave the command in Saka to start the merciless peppering of the Bactrian soldiers with arrows, many of them hills-men armed with axes and daggers, protected by poor quality, often a simple leather vest.

    The Bactrians raised their shields and started a slow march forward, their elite warriors’ hoplons and sarrisas glistening under the vibrant sun. Many a man fell to an arrow, the vicious but effective Saka technique of charging and firing, before retreating just in front of enemy weapons, firing over their shoulders as they rode away.

    The Bactrian soldiers continued to try and march up the hills, going as fast as one could in heavy armour carrying 11 foot long pikes. Any unfortunate Saka archer who didn’t move fast enough while running away was speared by this oncoming hedge of spikes. The rest of the Saka archers had by now joined the fray and were raining hell down upon the Bactrian soldiers.

    Now is when Mogha ordered the charge of his heavily armoured Ysanainu Aysiramja, rich chiefs and great warlords who have decided to form a guard and companion soldiers for their chief. And what a charge it must have been as Mogha shouted charge in chaste Greek for the enemy to understand and these heavily armoured horsemen thundered into the battlefield, their horses being given the horns of mountain goats to keep on their heads and themselves being decked in heavy ornaments and the finest armours.

    The charging horsemen wheeled around a bit and hit the elite Bactrian soldiers, presumably many of them from partial or complete Greek descent, right in the flanks. Mogha crashed into the men and probably trampled one man over in his charge. He was faced by a couple of young men but he easily overpowered them, leaving them alive, a Saka custom in which you could only fight a man of similar equipment, skill and status in close combat.

    After overpowering two or three men like this, Mogha was faced by a suitable adversary. A Greek man of many scars and war-markings approached him, the two men exchanging blows from horse to the ground.

    Suddenly the Greek man whirled to the side, and cut Mogha’s horse right in the underbelly, the beast wheeling around before crashing to the ground. Mogha jumped off just in time to not get his leg crushed and stuck underneath the horse.

    He swiftly picked up his spear and faced his adversary, the Greek already charging in for a hack at Mogha. He parried the blow with his spear, the weapon being cleaved clean in half but at least saving his life. He then drew his Kainyaka a Kopis-like double edged blade. The two traded and parried each other’s attacks for a while before the Greek tripped over Mogha.

    Just as the man was bringing down his sword on Mogha, Mogha rolled over and grabbed the nearest thing he could reach for. He then turned around and smacked the Greek as hard as he could with the object and it landed on the Greeks face, delivering a severe cut and making the Greek drop his shield.

    Mogha got back on his feet and rushed for the shield, grabbing it and knocking out his dazed adversary with it. He dropped the shield after that and shouted out to one of his men to let them ride on the same horse, the man mounting him on.

    Just as Mogha was getting ready to fight further, the Greco-Bactrian forces started to route. It had been an astounding victory, with a few losses yet it allowed the Sakas complete access into the lands further south. Khujanda was theirs for the taking, as the entire ranges echoed with the beating of shields and the ecstatic roars of victorious men.

    ---------------------------------------​

    Utarvyusa- The Saka version of Apollo according to Herodotus
    Ajina- The Saka version of Ares according to Herodotus
    Ahura Mazda- God of the Zoroastrian religion
    Veshparkhar- Sogdian version of Shiva, a Hindu god
     
  • Index
    • Mogha II
  • Index
    • Shahrasayr

    Shahrasayr

    Khujand, 145 BC​

    The two men walked the streets of Khujand, the town going about its usual business, the fact it had just been conquered by a nomadic invader not fazing most town folk. So many of the Saka soldiers freely walked the streets, their bows not on their shoulders.

    It was quite a spectacle for most of the invading warriors as many were young and had never seen a marble building in their life, and when such a concept was sprung upon them they could not help but behold.
    Then there was the Greek fortress inside of Khujand, Alexandria Eschate.

    Many a Saka soldier was delighted at the luxuries Khujand, only a border town of Baktria, could offer and wished to stay, yet the wiser amongst them knew this would be folly. Would the Yahojhi stop just because they had access to the pastures of the Saka? No, they wouldn’t and Mogha knew this fact.

    He was walking with the only other man he could trust besides Hora, a half-Greek and half-Saka Haumavarga man, Zoilos. The times were tough and Mogha knew he had to move and start getting the tribes moving soon. He would also extend the offer to any Sogdian or Greek who would come.

    “Tell me Jhoilasa, what is your opinion? The Yeuzhi approach, when do you think we should leave Khujand?” Mogha asked, himself considering some of these buildings wonders as he viewed them.
    The man considered for a second staring into the huge covered Bazaar in front of them.

    “My lord in all my wisdom I think we should start moving southwards by the end of this week. The men have rested for two weeks already and their families have been satiated for the long ride ahead. Another reason for these sayings is, my spies have reported that Eucratides is dead. He has been granted freedom in Elysium.”

    Mogha sighed. The one chance he had for safe passage was pinned on this one man’s recovery from the jaws of death. Now war was the only way, the only way there could be a new homeland for his people and he despaired all the extra bloodshed. The fighting would be extremely tough and their horses weren’t made for the rockier terrain of Baktria.

    “May the Tajhuka guide his soul to a better land my friend. Good men die too fast Jhoilasa, the sinners living to see their work and evils crumble apart. Now I know there will be no peace till I see them begging for mercy on the battlefield. Who has succeeded the Basileos and taken the title of lord of the Yavanas?”

    “A young man by the name of Heliocles. A nephew of Eucratides. The nobles prefer him as he has a much better chance at keeping the fracturing empire together. I have heard the sons of Eucratides were not deserving of the glory and are drunk power hungry fools. One thinks he emulates Alexandros. Another believes himself to be an incarnation of Herakles. I’ve heard a third has run off and tried to rally for support with the Parthians and their Shah Phraates has welcomed him.” came the reply from his companion.

    Mogha looked at Zoilos in the eyes in a look of desperation. His friend was giving him news that was slightly irking him. All doors had closed and the circumstances for a battle against the Baktrians to the south wasn’t good.

    “Rally the tribesmen and the rest of our peoples. We shall leave exactly 700 warriors in Khujand, some of the swiftest of our riders, to keep watch here and keep control. If the Yahojhi get within 5 stades of the city they must abandon it and ride southwards as fast as their horses can carry them. Also give out the edict if any Yavana or Sughdya wants to join our ride south they can join us. I will spare some horses for them.

    will also leave tomorrow with 200 horsemen and seek court with Hilakhlija. I have to give it a chance, too much of a risk lies there if I don’t. You and Hora should stay here and lead the main caravan out and the end of the week.”

    The other man unsheathed his knife and made a small cut on his thumb, pressing it against the forehead of his chief, a symbol of his best wishes for his lord. The two men hugged and then walked their separate ways, the idle chatter and uproar of the bazaar continuing around them, unaffected by what change the future might bring.

    *******************​

    Tajhuka- Saka for Stag. It is vital in the Saka religion and is linked with purity, ride and death, though which are not all synonymous. More on this next time.

    Sorry guys short update, some work sprang up. I will discuss more on the Saka religion. Please critique and comment on what you think.
     
  • Index
    • Mogha III
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    • Shahrasayr

    Shahrasayr

    Nahuya Damaya Tajhuka ​

    The Saka faith was a polytheistic and animistic one at its core. They worshipped gods whose names have by now been forgotten and corrupted or even never documented in literature. A few of the practices, customs and beliefs we do have are from Greeks and there a minimal amount of Persian ones but they seem to have been destroyed. So all information I give here has to be taken as lightly as one can and is open to full criticism.

    ***********​

    Hora walked towards the fire pit, the light of the flame a warming moment and glimmer of hope in this coldest of nights. Tonight was the third after the full moon, a religious moment, a moment to invoke Cahulika, who in the incarnation of a gold and red, black headed snake had been avenging the deaths of evil doers.

    The first of the victims to die to the incarnation of the angry god was a Saka Tigrakauda chief who had attempted to rape the beautiful daughter of a herdsmen. The ill-fated girl was killed in the struggle against her assaulter and by the time Hora and Zoilos had gotten news of the heinous crime it was too late, the tribe had to move further and start migrating again. They had stopped again after about a week’s travelling and were going to choose the punishment for the chief before the divines apparently did. In protection of the Damaya, they gave justice to the family of the girl. Another sinner was a rogue Sogdian general whose death had just reached them a few days ago. Snake bites had been found on his leg. He had been extorting tribute for a safe winter passage and had killed more than 30 people who had refused to pay for their passage, taking the lives of innocent young children. This man too now lay dead.

    While justice had been done, Cahulika was known to continue their fury and not stop their vengeance for a long time. A snake had been caught and had been put in a rich, gilded cage near the fire pit, the priests chanting hymns to calm his anger. While the priests chanted, more holy men brewed the divine drink, Hauma, for tonight was the night of reaching and communicating with the gods. The chiefs would drink it first, the priests next, the tribesmen after that, finally getting to any non-Saka foreigner who wished to drink the sweet nectar.

    After an hour of worshipping and praying before the snake, the bowl of Hauma was passed around. Zoilos drank it first, sitting cross legged before slowly drooping into a state of transcendence and an all-round high. He drifted away, and then the bowl was passed to Hora. He let the nectar pass through his mouth and waited a few seconds. The Hauma took its time on affecting him, since he had consumed it since his childhood and it had been a core part of his spirituality.

    Then his eyes drooped and everything blacked out, leaving nothing behind but emptiness.

    ***************​
    When Hora opened his eyes he was lying on an open field, covered in dirt and dust. The sun was shining down brightly upon him, the glare taking some time to get adjusted to. He stretched and picked himself up of the ground. He stood up and started walking around, staggering around a bit. When his eyes adjusted he tried to see what was around him. There was a clear blue sky and flat plains of lush grass as far as the eye could see. He noticed even though the place was completely lit and looked like a normal day, there wasn’t a Sun. The only light that seemed to be there was emitting from his right. He turned and looked seeing a single beam of light rising from the ground far away. Without thinking he started walking towards it. He kept walking for what he thought an eternity, before it started to come into sight.
    There was a tree in the distance, unlike the kind he had ever seen before in his life. He started to run towards it, picking up the pace into a full blown sprint within minutes. He soon reached the tree panting, out of breath and was surprised at what he saw. The branches of the tree were rising out of the ground [1] apparently. He was fascinated at what he saw before realised that there was a man there as well. The man was in a cross-legged position and was sitting with his eyes closed. Hora looked a bit further to his side and saw a stag on the ground resting under the shade of the tree.

    He looked at the markings on the stag and looked at the saddle that was on it. The saddle was made from a tough greyish looking cloth and some other types of leather. The deer had stripes round its neck and the hair right around its hooves was a darkish red. He couldn’t believe it; this was Tajhuka incarnate in his visions. Then realization slowly creeped onto Hora, suddenly becoming aware if Holy Tajhuka was before him the man himself must be Yamisa himself, lord of death and diviner of the fate. Hora fell to the ground with his head bowed towards the man and he started randomly chanting prayers that he had heard the priests say over the years, not having a single clue what anyone of them meant.

    The man opened his eyes and looked at the man kneeling at his side. He smiled and tapped Hora on his head. Hora slowly rose and seated himself next to the man. The man gestured towards the ornate stick next to him. Hora picked it up and passed it to the man. The man gestured towards the fire pit in front of him and Hora looked. He noticed that the beam of light he had seen earlier was actually the smoke from the burning incense glowing a divine radiance. Then out of the corner of his eyes Hora saw that the man had started to draw with the stick into a pile of ash he had laid down in front of him. First he drew what looked like the tree they were sitting under. The next drawing was something Hora had never seen before. It was the most handsome man he had ever seen, his face utterly serene, his garb a simple one and sitting in a similar position to the god beside him. The final drawing was a deer that looked like Tujuka, yet its horns were extremely short [2]. And it’s shoulders stauncher. The man then looked at Hora and said:

    “The day you see all three of these figures together, you must settle your people there. They can for once pitch their houses there a life, never having to burn their houses and leave their homes again.”

    The man put his hand into the fire pit from which the incense light was rising. Hora followed without thinking and as soon as his hand touched the rising smoke a searing pain went through his arm and he let out a howling scream.

    *************​

    When Hora came around he was in his tent, Zoilos sitting next to him sipping on a drink. Hora slowly tried to rise out of the bed, but the pain in his right arm was too much. He dropped back down.

    “Jhoilasa, what happened? Why does my arm feel like it’s been crushed by a boulder?” Hora said while making another failed attempt to get up.
    Zoilos sighed and put his cup down.

    “I came out of my trance before you and looked around. One second you were sitting there completely still, the next you were leaning into the fire with your hand held out. You fell in but your hand stopped you from falling in completely. The priests dragged you out and bathed your hand with cold water from the lake. You have been sleeping since last night and didn’t even come out of your trance when you got burnt. What did you see?”

    Hora continued looking at the ceiling for a few moments, before slowly he slowly started raising his right hand and stared at his palm.

    “If we can safely reach further south quickly, it seems like the gods have graced us with a destined homeland. Say, have you ever heard of a tree which has multiple trunks rising from the ground?”

    ------------------------------​

    [1] Banyan Tree
    [2] A neelgai, a type of antelope native to South Asia
     
    Last edited:
  • Index
    • inawarminister

    inawarminister

    N-no, my ancestors... What are you doing? Baktria is dying...

    Subscribed!
    Are you going to finish up to when Indo-Saka kingdom is finally established - or until the Kushans come?

    It'd certainly be ironic.
     
    Shahrasayr

    Shahrasayr

    inawarminister said:
    N-no, my ancestors... What are you doing? Baktria is dying...

    Subscribed!
    Are you going to finish up to when Indo-Saka kingdom is finally established - or until the Kushans come?

    It'd certainly be ironic.
    Click to expand...

    Well I am doing this novel/play style so I guess act/chapter 1 will end when the Indo-Saka kingdom is established.

    As for Baktria............ Let's just say ITTL the Hellenistic Kingdoms in the east will survive one way or another;)
     

    Orisha91

    Very interesting time-line. Don't think I've ever come across a Scythian centered TL. I'm gonna have to do some digging to find out more about the Saka now.

    Can't wait to see how this develops.
    :D
     
    Mogha IV
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    • Shahrasayr

    Shahrasayr

    Baktra: Phainó Fáros​


    Baktra, 144 BC

    Mogha was here. The capital of the Yavanas. And he was impressed. Khujand was nothing compared to Jariazpana/Balhdika [1]. The tribe had finally reached the gates of around a month after he had reached, the strange events that had taken place told to him by Hora. He kept this in mind, but he was not as superstitious as his companions and was cynical of the priests and the clergy.

    He was now headed for the great temple of Dionysus where he would discuss the terms for a passage or possible homeland for the Saka peoples in the lands of the Yavana. He started walking up the steps of the temple, three banner riders in tow. The building itself was impressive, columns upon columns of white marble, with carvings of nymphs, spirits and other divinities. Walking inside a simple man of the steppe could not help but feel awed at the colossal structures inside, everywhere he looked, there were marble statues and miniatures of gods, their attendants and the lord of wine himself. And when he looked up on the roof was the greatest spectacle itself. A massive mosaic of the deer footed goat sitting on his throne, attendants all around him and filling his cup with wine.

    Mogha soon snapped out of his sightseeing demeanour and walked towards the inner shrine where the meeting was to take place. The shrine was quite different to the rest of this amazing structure. It was in fact built with a reddish stone instead of the beautiful marble used in the rest of the temple. Even the design wasn't slightly Greek in any way, resembling more of a Persian style of architecture. The guards moved their spears to give way and let the royal party in. Inside Mogha noticed that the bricks were inlaid with sacred inscriptions in a language he could not decipher. There was a statue of a mounted man, resplendent on each side of the shrine. In the middle was a fire, in a fire pit with six steps leading up to it. On the other side of flame sat the young blonde Greek king on the lavish and comfortable klinai [2], flanked by his guards on either side.

    The man smiled at the sight of the slightly scruffy looking Scythian that had just walked into the room. He smiled and gestured the man to sit in the opposite klinai. Mogha did as he was asked and tried to get as comfortable as he could on this foreign piece of furniture. Seeing tis uncomfortableness gave the Greek a bit of a chuckle. He leant forward to start the discussion.

    "Well lord of the Scythians, what would you wish talk about? Your people have been harassing the civilized folk of Bactria ever since the time of Megas Alexandros and now you have come to ask for our aid. You hoped you would deal with my father, aaah, don't try to hide it, you did didn't you? But you'll find I am as merciful a man as him. So tell me why you flee south Scyth? Hurry, and say or can you not speak?" the Greek lord spoke, especially saying the last few words in a malicious tone. Mogha ignored this and kept his composure.

    "Oh Yavanaramja [3], we flee from a far greater threat than any Saka or Surmuta can pose to your....'civilized' way of life. These peoples are the children of the moon and they descend from the north east, wiping out all resistance that they are faced with. There was a village to the north of my tribe's lands, one of the few settlements beyond the Yukza Artu [4]. I remember a trader that had been sent to collect the textiles for the
    Hudkaulir [5] festival. He reached the village, collected the items bringing them back. He then told me that he had forgotten 20 bales of the cloth back in the village. He headed out again and came back a day, silent and pale. He then described to the rest of us what he had seen. These demons had built a tent for their lord with the heads of the dead enemy acting as an archway. That is when we decided to head south."

    When Mogha had finished reciting his story he looked up to see what the Greek king thought of it. To his surprise the Greek was entertaining himself with his sword, sheathing waving it about, before sheathing it again. Mogha was infuriated by the insolence this man in front of him was showing. He rose from his seat and drew his dagger, looking at the man in front sternly. In response the Greek guards drew their swords, causing the three Saka banner riders to do the same. Mogha swore before sheathing his dagger, yet unrelenting in his fury.

    "Yavana, you think this is a joke? I have seen hundreds massacred in front of my eyes in the fury of these riders from the east and you, you treat me like I am a madman? I came here asking for friendship and also to warn you of the dangers coming from the north. I thought if I told you about this peril the glorious kingdom of Sughd could together with the Saka people fight them off. You disregard my words, so your cities too shall be trampled underneath the hooves of their million horsemen. Merciful are you? The Yahojhi won't be when they find a miserable scoundrel like you living in a luxurious palace." Mogha thundered, the words sounding like a tidal wave of fury as they came out of his mouth.

    This time it was Heliocles who rose. He just smirked and looked the Saka man in the face, who was easily an inch or two shorter than himself. He drew his sword, once again triggering both parties to draw their weapons. He held the blade in the fire in front of them before whipping it out. He then slowly put it into his wine, causing steam to rise out.

    "I did take you for a madman, yes. For who else would think that the might of Bactria cannot face a group of roving barbarians?" he drew closer and talked in a more softer yet more nefarious tone. "Listen to me Scyth, there is nothing that my armies cannot rival. Great powers like the sons of Seleucus have challenged my ancestors kingdom and all have failed. I do not feel threatened by a few swarthy and filthy barbarians coming from the east. They too shall perish should they face me, graced by Zeus and descendent of Iason [6]. So let them come for if they try to trample us with their hooves, we shall simply put down a few pikes they can't jump over. " finished Heliocles, sitting himself back down.

    "You are not half the man I thought you were. Yet you are twice as deluded as I guessed you could have been Yavana. Your so called army and might is divided, your authority holding no sway and your brothers and generals vying for power. You are simply just a fool that thinks the world is as simple as the tasteless wine you drink. I swear on Cahulika that the injustice you bring upon your family name shall be avenged. Hopefully then someone with less of a clouded head can sit upon that throne."

    With this Mogha and his guards stormed out of the temple and within an hour out of the city as well. War was coming and at the end of it, no matter the outcome Baktra would not stay a shining beacon of knowledge and culture.


    ----------------------------------------------------​

    [1] The various Saka names for the city of Baktra. While the Persian for it was Balkh
    [2] A type of Couch
    [3] Yavanaramja- Saka word for Greek king
    [4] Saka name for River Jaxartes
    [5] Saka festival, Hudkaulir is the binding of the Earth and the Sky. A dead Falcon is to be hunted and cremated in a sacrificial pit.
    [6] The royal family of the Greco-Bactrians claimed descent from Jason.
     
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