***Warning***
                        ***Contains graphic descriptions of violence, torture,
                                        sexual assault, rape, and murder***

Amir Timur was born in the heart of central Asia. He was known far and wide for his leadership, his ruthlessness, and his massive architectural projects. The fact that a single person could accomplish what Timur did throughout his lifetime is astounding. During his time, Europe was an economic backwater. Many still refer to this epoch as “the dark ages.” In reality, it was dark only for those who lived in Europe. The empires throughout the rest of the world were discovering plentiful raw resources; they also created literature and art. Timur, known to many by his bastardized name, Tamerlane, was born during this period of artistic and economic growth.
	
Central Asia was a diverse area, composed of many different cultures and religions. Timur was what we would call a Tartar, or a descendent from the many nomadic tribes which inhabited the area. They’ve been called Scythians, Turks, or Turko-Mongols by historians. Their lives were incredibly unstable, and this instability would go on to be a defining characteristic of this region through today. To the region’s west are the great inland seas, the Aral and the Caspian, as well as the unbearably hot Qizik Qum and Qara Qum deserts. To the north lies the vast and empty Hunger Steppe. To the east, the Himalayan, Kun Lun, Tien Shan, and Hindu Kush mountains create the natural barriers which divide India and China. Finally, to the south is the Great Salt Desert, utterly inhospitable and deadly. 
	
Were it not for the two great rivers which split up Central Asia, it's highly probable that few could have called this area of the world home. As it stands however, the Amu Darya and the Sir Darya have turned this land into a fertile beacon of growth. Along these rivers stood the great, millennia-old cities, which could trace their lineage back to the hazy start of historical record-keeping. There was the ancient city of Balk, in present-day Afghanistan, the scholarly city of Bukhara, but the most well-known of these cities was Samarkand. Samarkand was the middle of a thriving trade route known as the “Silk Road.” Enslaved peoples from India, spices from China, and silver from Greece were all auctioned off in this city. The gorgeous silks and weaved cloth which were received in return were the envy of the known world. This was the world Timur Gurkani was born into c. 1336, somewhere near the city of Kesh, which was part of the Chagatai Khanate.
	
The Chagatai were new to the area. They made their destructive arrival about one hundred and fifty years before. They were called the Mongols, and they were headed by a man called Temujin, or as we know him, Ghengis Khan. Following the great Khan’s death, his empire, which stretched from China to Ukraine, was divided up amongst his many surviving sons and grandsons. Throughout most of the middle east, the Ilkhanate held sway. To their immediate north, the Golden Horde controlled the vast steppe of modern-day Ukraine and Siberia. Controlling China and Mongolia, was the Yuan Dynasty. The Mongols considered themselves nomads. They disdained cities and walls, preferring the open sky. Additionally, they were warriors who enjoyed taking the offensive. The bloodshed they caused was extreme, killing maybe 50 million people during their rise to power.
	
Timur was a member of the Barlas clan, a minor noble house, which barely registered on the Mongol’s radar. His family was meant to serve the Great Khan in battle only; they were never meant to rule. By the time Timur was a boy, things had changed in his hometown. The Chagatai Khan was defeated in battle and killed by a usurper. This usurper took a fancy to Timur and his leadership abilities. At this time, Timur was a soldier of fortune; he led small war parties miles into enemy territory and attempted to haul off anything that wasn’t nailed down. It was during the 1350s that his first two sons were born of a Mongol princess. He worked at the usurper's side for many years, until the usurper was killed. The new boss was the Khan of the Jat Mongols, or “border Mongols.” Timur chose to work with these men from the north and was quickly given the honorific title of Tuman-Bashi, or “leader of ten thousand.”
	
With these new titles and approval from the head Khan, Timur felt he was safe. This was an incorrect assumption, as his own kin was attempting to kill him and usurp his holdings, in order to take full leadership of the Barlas clan. Realizing the nefarious intentions of his family, Timur rode south. There, he joined forces with his brother-in-law and the Amir of Kabul, Husayn. They marched north together at the head of a body of men, and brought war upon the rebellious members of Clan Barlas. When the Jat Mongols joined on the side of Timur and Husayn, the inter-tribe rebellion quickly ended. Timur was chosen as the new ruler of Samarkand, but the Khan’s son, Ilias, was placed in charge of the entire region. Timur was not pleased by this turn of events; he wished to be his own sovereign. He fled Samarkand with a body of men, bound for the western desert.
	
He traveled with his wife and honor guard until coming upon Husayn, who was now also a Mongol fugitive. After fighting off marauding bands of Khivans, the group of soldiers split up, and both brothers promised they would meet again in Afghanistan. Timur and his wife attempted to find their way to the Khorassan road, but while resting their horses one day, disaster struck. Ali Beg, a local warlord, recognized Timur and his wife. He had them arrested, and both were forced into a vermin-ridden cowshed, at the height of summer. Conditions were terrible for the two. For over two months, they were thus interred. Following their release, Timur swore he would never keep any man as a prisoner, guilty or not.

After spending a month undercover in Samarkand, Timur headed south; he still planned on meeting with Amir Husayn. Timur was once again a warrior for hire, after re-convening with Husayn, they decided to move against several Sijistan tribes who were rebelling against the lord in the area. During one of these small skirmishes, two arrows pierced Timur, one through his hand and one in his foot, leaving him crippled in both appendages for the rest of his life. This is how he gained his derisive nickname, Timur “the lame.” What followed was the early fifteenth century equivalent of a game of telephone, leaving us with the name to which Timur is commonly referred, “Tamurlane.”
With Timur and Huasyn’s men united, they marched north once again, more determined than ever to cast the Jat Mongols back over the mountains. Timur found the Mongols encamped on the other side of a stone bridge. Rather than recklessly charge into the fight, Timur ordered his men to encamp as well. He then led a vast majority of his force to a river crossing, while five hundred men stayed inside camp and tended the fires. When Mongol scouts first became aware of the forces on their side of the river, they checked Timur’s camp, where there appeared to be no change. The Mongols were terrified at the numbers arrayed against them. That night, to complete the ruse, Timur ordered his men on the Mongol side of the bridge to spread to the surrounding hills, and make as many fires as possible. From the Mongols’ perspective, they seemed to be completely surrounded. This gamble on Timur’s part paid off; the Mongols retreated in panic. This was the beginning of what would be a very impressive military career for Timur.

Next, he planned on taking the city of Tashkent. He achieved this using another ruse. Realizing the garrison of the city was much more powerful than his entire army, he spread his forces out in a semi-circle and told his riders to drag tree branches behind them. This kicked up an intense amount of dust – so much dust, that the defenders believed they were facing tens of thousands of attackers. They promptly departed as fast as their horses could carry them. A quote from the Timurid chronicles describes the farce, “The Lord, Timur, always fortunate in war, in this year defeated an army by fire and captured a city with dust.” After finally gaining control of Samarkand, the old alliance between Timur and Husayn was beginning to fray.

Before the final split, they would take the field as allies one last time. Ilias Khan had returned at the head of a vengeful army. On Timur’s side were all the tribes and clans of the surrounding area. It was one of the first times they had all fought together, instead of amongst one another. Both nomadic armies stood across from one another, waiting for the drums and war cries to initiate battle. It was then that the rain began to fall; it would not let up, turning the field into a mire. Horses could barely stand in the muck that was created, and arrows were practically useless in the slick, cascading rain. Husayn was in charge of the right-wing, while Timur placed himself at the front of the weaker left-wing. 
As battle began, Timur’s vanguard plunged into the ranks of the Jats. This vanguard was furiously repulsed with the scimitar and the mace. Trying to stem the route, Timur pitched into the battle with his Barlas clansmen. Horses stumbled and broke legs in the charge, as the Tartars shouted, “Allahu Akbar!” before swords clashed and limbs were hewn. In the chaos, Timur found himself facing the Mongol commander in a fierce fight; the commander was run through with a spear. At the death of their commander, the Jat’s lost their will and turned their horses away from the fight. Now the time was ripe for the coup de grâce. Timur swung his forces around the enemy flank, and engaged the center, which was still fighting. He sent a courier to Husayn to get him involved in this attack. Husayn, for some reason, refused to assist his brother.

The next day, the rain continued to fall, and the disgruntled Timur decided to face the retreating Mongol hordes alone. He was resoundingly defeated, outnumbered, and forced to retreat from the field. The battle of the Mire was over. It was a tactical defeat for Timur, but it was a lesson learned. He was done trusting Husayn. With a friend like that, he didn’t need an enemy. In a final blow to their relationship, upon his return home, Timur discovered his wife, Husayn’s sister, had died. There was nothing that held the two close to one another anymore. It was a clear sign that Timur would have to go it alone. In honor of his wife’s memory, he constructed the massive Ak Sarai palace. Standing vertical at over two hundred feet, the Ak Sarai was a beacon in a flat place. It still stands, at only about 40% of its original height, but it is awe-inspiring nonetheless. 
Timur’s most admirable quality was the generosity he showed the men under him. He would give out lavish prizes and honorific titles to those who served him well. This generosity gained Timur a serious amount of reverence throughout the region. Amir Husayn, however, was the exact opposite. Following the defeat at the Battle of the Mire, Husayn demanded exorbitant tribute from Timur’s subjects. In response, Timur paid the taxes from his own pockets. Among the jewels and treasures handed over, was jewelry which had belonged to Husayn’s late sister; he pocketed these gems just the same. This was all a part of a grand plan for the strategy-minded Timur. He would spend hours at night playing chess against himself, constantly trying to improve his strategies. Eventually, Timur became tired of the game and ordered that a board be designed that could hold twice the pieces. To this day, this form of chess is called “Tamurlane chess.” 
Following a plague, which killed many of the Jat horses in Samarkand, the garrison retreated. Husayn and Timur rode in at the head of their armies; they now controlled the territory from the border of the Indian subcontinent all the way up to the Aral Sea. However, Husayn demanded more and more exorbitant taxes from the people, causing him to lose followers and popularity to Timur. The people were increasingly hostile toward the southerners, questioning, “what is profit, without honor?”

By 1370, Timur was ready to ride south; he planned to remove the sole obstacle to his absolute rule. During this trip, he passed through the city of Termez, where he met with the Muslim holy man, Sayid Baraka, who promised him success in all of his endeavors. He would stay by Timur’s side, through every fight, and every campaign, until his death. When it was the Emperor’s turn to die, he asked to be buried at the feet of this Imam. When he arrived at Balk, he began his siege of his former brother’s walls. As the Tatars were unleashed on the garrison, Husayn saw his end and put himself at the mercy of Timur; he promised he would never return and spent the rest of his days on Hajj to Mecca. Timur said he would not end Husayn’s life, but – he would not stop one of his officers from fulfilling a familial blood feud. 

Timur was now the sole ruler of Balkh. Even better for Timur, he was in sole possession of Husayn’s harem. He quickly took Husayn’s wife for his own, Saray Mulk-Khanumn; this completed a long-held dream of Timur’s, as Mulk-Khanumn was a princess who could trace her lineage back to Ghengis Khan. During the wedding ceremony, a Kurultai, or Mongol-style conference, took place. They officially granted Timur’s request to be crowned as Amir, and “the Lord of the Fortunate Conjunction.” It would be one of the many names which would be used to refer to Timur. His election was sanctioned by the fighting men, who were satiated with loot and glory, and by the holy men, who found in Timur, a champion of Islam. His wealth was passed out lavishly to his officers and followers in the raucous celebrations which followed. 

Now that he controlled a vast expanse of land, he could not rest on his laurels. Former Mongol Khans who did, found themselves Khans of nothing. Constant campaigning was needed to keep the men’s lust for women and treasure in check. If he let them become complacent, they would soon turn on each other over minor tribal infractions. In no time, Timur would have to fight numerous rebellions and mutinies. This was Timur’s formula for world conquest. It was strategic, as well as advantageous; many Tatars were accustomed to this life. Timur stole artisans and riches, which he used to run Samarkand, his new official capital. First, Timur dealt with the northern Jat Mongols; he drove them hundreds of miles away from the border. By the end, Illyas Khan agreed to recognize Timur’s rule and would even send a sister as a bride, rendering the Jat little more than Timur’s vassals.

Timur then looked north and saw the riches concentrated in Kat and Ugranch. As a pretext for invasion, he asked that the land, which formerly belonged to the Chagatai, be returned to him. The leader of these cities said, “I have conquered [these lands] by the sword, and only with the sword can it be won from me.” Following this incendiary response, Timur took his armies north and laid waste to the ancient city of Kat. He left not one man alive, while all the women and children were sold as enslaved peoples in Samarkand. After a victory in the field, Timur moved on to Urganch, where the leader gave in. He promised to send his daughter to be the wife of Timur’s heir. Their marriage lasted a very short time, as Timur’s heir, Jahangir, became very ill and soon died. This death was more devastating to Timur than anything he had faced in his life. He wept bitterly at the loss of his first born.

Through this tragedy, events throughout the rest of the world started to play right into Timur’s hands. A banished prince of the Golden Horde, Toktamish, arrived in Timur’s court, asking for help to claim overlordship of the northern domain. Timur accepted Toktamish as a son and outfitted him with men, provisions, and weapons. Whenever Toktamish advanced, however, he was met with defeat, forced to return to court, begging Timur for more resources. Timur dutifully obliged this wandering prince, and following the death of the Khan, Toktamish was finally successful; he was made the new Khan of the vast Golden Horde.

Toktamish went to work spreading dissent among Timur’s followers. Loyalty died a hard death on the Asian steppe. One of the places he began to sway was Ugrench. They rebelled against Timur’s leadership. Timur turned his armies on the city. The city's leader brought a message to Timur saying, “Why should the world face ruin and destruction because of two men? Why should so many faithful Muslims perish because of our quarrel? Better that we two should find ourselves face to face on the open field to prove our valor.” Timur agreed to this request for personal combat. He was outfitted by his servants, with his composite bow, his shield, and his scimitar. He brazenly rode to the front of the walls as hundreds of enemy archers looked down on him and his stallion. As he waited for his opponent, it became clear that this duel was nothing but a delaying tactic. Timur yelled in anger, “He who breaks his promise, shall lose his life.” As if to confirm this prophecy, the leader of Ugranch would be dead within three months. Ugranch would surrender, but they would rebel once more in 1388. Timur now turned his attention to the destruction of the city; he murdered anyone he could find and ripped down the buildings. A single mosque was left standing. Where the city once stood, Timur had his men plant barley. Ugranch ceased to exist. This was the price for going against Timur. 

By 1379, Timur was growing restless. His vision veered westward toward the rich lands of Persia. One of the jewels of Persia was the city of Herat. It was a massive city for its time, boasting a population of over 440,000 people. Comparatively, London consisted of 40,000 inhabitants, while Paris had barely 70,000. These numbers say nothing of the culture and philosophical schools of thought present there. The ruler of Herat, Pir Ali, was sent a letter requesting his presence at the annual Kurultay. This was Timur’s way of saying that Herat was now considered a part of his empire. To stall, Pir Ali requested an armed guard escort him to Samarkand. When Timur’s officer arrived, he was barred entry and noticed that Herat’s ruler was actively strengthening the city's walls. Timur marched for Herat, marking the beginning of three years of war and devastation which would follow. Pir Ali’s armies marched to reinforce the garrison which was held up in Fushanj. They attempted to hold against an all-out Tatar assault. When Timur’s hordes finally broke through, not a single man was spared. As Timur’s armies marched to Herat, the people called wildly for the city's surrender. Pir Ali had no choice; he surrendered Herat, and in a show of gratitude, the city was spared. The inhabitants, instead, had to pay a massive ransom to Timur. 

With Herat’s near-bloodless capitulation, Timur was more confident than ever in his horsemen. They remained the most powerful military entity on earth up until the invention of mechanized warfare. Expert riders, most of the men had been riding a horse since they could stand. So proficient, they could time their arrows with their horse’s strides. Their weapon, the composite bow, was hewn from the branches of large trees and then strengthened with steel or animal bone. It was as deadly, if not more so, than the vaunted English longbow, with the added benefit of not being as cumbersome. The composite bow required immense strength to pull back; most men in Timur’s armies could only pull the string to their noses, but Timur was well-remembered as being able to pull the string back as far as his chest. 

Turning north-west, the conquering Tatars marched to Mazandaran. This region was inhospitable to any invading force, consisting of marshes and seventeen-thousand-foot-tall mountains. For a time, the local ruler withstood repeated attacks, but soon he would be abandoned and left to fend for himself. Once he was tracked down, his head was brought to Timur as an offering. It was during these fights, that Isfizar rebelled against Timur’s rule. In one of the most horrifying acts in all of history, Timur kidnapped over 2,000 enslaved peoples, and rather than execute them in the normal fashion, he decided an example should be made. They were led to a large pit, and once inside the pit, the 2,000 were buried alive in concrete and mortar.

He then traveled to Sistan, in modern-day Afghanistan. He had a personal vendetta against the people of this region. In all likelihood, these same mountain-men had given Timur the two wounds on his right side which had incapacitated him. The battle for Zaranj was particularly deadly. Timur’s horse was even shot out from under him. When the city finally capitulated, Timur gave the order to exterminate the entire population. “From persons to a hundred years old to infants in the cradle,” none escaped Timur’s fury. As a final disgrace to the empty city, the heads of all the inhabitants were collected and formed into massive pyramids. The city itself wasn't spared, either. Irrigation ditches and windmills were ripped to pieces. A place where hillocks of green grass and streams once provided an oasis to tens of thousands, was now a ghost town, and remains so to this day. Next was Kandahar. Their governor was chained and hanged, but the population was spared the sword. Timur’s reputation for violence and magnanimity were growing in equal measure. To those loyal to “the scourge of god,” he bestowed untold wealth, privileges, and women. Those who exhibited disobedience or cowardice were dealt with ruthlessly.

Sultinya was the next city to fall; the governor packed up shop and left as fast as he could upon seeing Timur’s armies. It was another bloodless conquest. This positioned Timur on the edge of the Caucasus mountains. The next city in Timur’s way was the opulently rich city of Tabriz. At the time, this city collected more tax revenue than the entire country of France. Its riches were awe-inspiring, and its location was incredibly strategic. Before Timur claimed this city for his sprawling empire, another had sacked it and usurped their riches. Toktamish, leader of the Golden Horde, had stormed over the mountains with his armies. This was a direct challenge to Timur. It was clear that central Asia wasn’t big enough for the two of them. Timur bided his time to strike. He had made a point to campaign in the spring and winter in Samarkand. Here, he held exquisite banquets and oversaw massive building projects. The builders and architects from across his empire were imprisoned and sent to Samarkand to improve it. Likewise, Imams, holy men, and intellectuals were spared the sword and given a chance to ply their trade in the cosmopolitan city.

As spring began, the drums of war sounded once more. Before dealing with the Golden Horde, Timur first dealt with the tribes of Lur, who were harassing and raiding pilgrim caravans on the way to Mecca. Timur tracked down these men and had them thrown from their mountain strongholds. Now was the time to take Tabriz. Seeing the Tatar flags encroaching on their position, the leaders of Tabriz left. After begging for their lives, the populace was spared, and one of the great cities of the Middle East fell without the loss of a single man. Now to his north, stood the Christian Kingdom of Georgia. 
This Kingdom was especially appealing to Timur for several reasons. Because it was a Christian state, Timur felt it was his duty to introduce them to Islam. Additionally, capturing this land would give him access to the Black Sea. The men of Georgia stood defiantly by their walls. They would not give in to this “barbarian” invader from the south. The walls were stormed and the slaughter was ostentatious. When Timur captured the Georgian King, he forced him to convert to Islam and sing the words, “La ilaha illa’llah Mohammedan rasul’ Allah,” which translates to, “there is no god but Allah and Mohammed is his messenger.” In spite of his conversion to the Muslim faith, the King of Georgia would not remain subordinate to Timur for long, nor would his sons. Timur, in fact, would have to return to Georgia no less than six times throughout the course of his life in order to put down numerous uprisings sparked by the uneasy Christian population. After he was finished with it, Georgia was a depopulated wasteland, most of the inhabitants being either dead or enslaved. 

Meanwhile, Toktamish was sending his own men to Georgia, raiding and pillaging the borderlands. Timur was furious. He was getting a taste of his own medicine. He wrote to Toktamish, “How comes it that your prince, whom I regard as a son, uses me so ill…” By 1387, Timur’s armies were sweeping into Asia Minor. They captured numerous cities, but the most remarkable capture was the mountain stronghold of Van. This city had never fallen in all of its history, but Timur was inside the walls within only forty-eight hours. The garrison retreated to the citadel and put up a stubborn resistance for nearly a month before it was finally overrun. Those who weren’t killed in the fighting had their hands tied behind their backs, and they were flung from the thousand-foot mountain precipes, to their ends. Then, as quickly as he had arrived, Timur changed direction and headed south, back into Persia. This constant change of direction left his many enemies completely bewildered. Tatars were soon camped outside the shimmering city of Isfahan.
Isfahan’s governor, on seeing the bringer of death and destruction outside his city, promptly surrendered without a fight. However, the people refused to be occupied; in the night, they slaughtered the three-thousand-man Tatar garrison. The morning came with “the recognition that they had signed their own death warrant,” says Justin Marozzi. This crime would not go unpunished. To state what happened to the people of Isfahan, the following is from a Middle Eastern chronicler, Arabshah, “...and when he came in sight of the city, [Timur] ordered bloodshed and sacrilege… “ In the carnage that followed, 70,000 were butchered, their heads turned into ominous beacons of Timur’s presence. Those who escaped the night attempted to flee into the desert, but they were hunted down by marauding Tatars. In a final horrifying move, the young children and new mothers of Isfahan were gathered outside the city walls. Timur ordered his men to run through the crowd of over 7,000 with their horses. At this order, even the most bloodthirsty of Timur’s soldiers balked. In response to this insubordination, Timur mounted his own horse and ran down a group of children. Then he screamed out to his men, “Now I shall like to see who will not ride after me…” The meaning was clear – follow his lead, or join the victims. 

After the annihilation of Isfahan, a courier arrived to hasten a devastating piece of news. Back in Samarkand, Toktamish had officially invaded. His armies were pillaging and killing at whim. They made a point to pillage in the valley where Timur was born. The former “son” of Timur had now made himself Timur's single biggest enemy. When Timur arrived back in Samarkand, Toktamish had vanished, disappearing into the vast Hunger Steppe and leaving his allies in Ugranch to suffer their aforementioned fate. Timur spent the rest of the year driving the Jat Mongols back over the mountains. A Qurultay was called near the place where Timur was born; he laid out his plans for an offensive into the Golden Horde. He demanded 200,000 men be brought to arms. In spite of this, Toktamish commanded slightly more men than him. Timur could not underestimate the man who had been his protégé. His invasion would need to be flawlessly planned and executed. The journey there was treacherous, and provisions were sparse. For hundreds of miles, the land may be barren, bereft of water or cover from the elements.
From the Georgian mountains, to the deserts of Persia, over the mountains of Afghanistan, and from the heartland of Tatar country, the men came to answer their Amir’s call. Refusal would bring with it a fate worse than death. Justice was swift and exacting, at the point of the sword. Timur damned those he struck with dishonor and eternal hellfire. He considered himself the exacting flame of Islam. He considered the countless Muslims he killed to be “bad Muslims.” This was his justification for his endless life-long conquests, and re-conquests. Additionally, with each territory conquered, its riches and intellectuals were transferred to Samarkand. They built glorious mosques, buildings, and universities. Timur sanctioned this and gave lavishly to charity and building projects. When Timur returned from the campaign with his treasure train, stretching for miles, there were joyous city-wide celebrations that lasted an entire week. During these bacchanalian celebrations, Timur and his men would get incredibly drunk and stumble out of the palace incoherently with whatever wife or concubine was close by.

To state from “Tamerlane: The Earth Shaker,” by Harold Lamb, Timur’s invasion, “...invited disaster. But he was right. He acted upon his knowledge of human nature, and not by bravado… Toktamish had lived at his court for some years, and had twice fled from a pitched battle.” Timur would invade in the middle of January and brave the Russian winter head-on. There are countless examples of why this is a bad idea, but Timur made the strategic decision to do this. The Tatars always invade in the springtime, so what would be more surprising than invading during the winter, through the most inhospitable way possible? This gave the initiative to Timur. Toktamish sent a diplomat with an offer of peace. Timur responded, “When your master Toktamish was wounded and fled from the enemy, I received him like a son. I took up his cause and made war on Urus khan on his behalf. I made him so strong he became khan of the [Golden Horde], and he mounted the throne of Jochi [Ghengis Khan’s Son]... but… he forgot his obligations to me… to betray me, sending troops to ruin the borders of my empire… Now when Toktamish has heard of our march, he begs pardon, because he knows no other way to save himself from the punishment he deserves…” His invasion continued as planned, and the scouts of the Golden Horde gave way to his Tatars, falling back deeper into the Steppe.
After four months of endless marching through a vast and empty landscape, the scouts searched the horizon in expectation, but Toktamish’s forces were nowhere to be found. Food was running low. At first, they ate a meager meat stew cooked with some  flour. When the meat ran out, it was simply a muddy broth. Finally, the flour disappeared; they were left with only water and herbs. Additionally, the horses were suffering from the below-freezing weather. This was Toktamish’s plan; use the environment to starve the enemy, and destroy them once they weaken. Timur had traveled these same steppes as a youth and a mercenary. He called a Tatar hunt. His massive army spread itself out through a vast expanse of land, forming a human circle. Then, the men would ride into the center, corralling any animals into the confines, where they could be picked off easily. Timur had the privilege of shooting first. In spite of his hand injury, he was an excellent shot and brought down several deer in the course of a few minutes. The men had eaten. Now it was time for the grand review. The 200,000 horsemen formed into their Tumans, or corps. Justin Marozzi says Timur “...appeared before them on horseback, wearing a golden crown encrusted with rubies and carrying an ivory baton tipped with the carved golden head of a bull…” The officers threw themselves down in worship of their emperor, pledging their lives and the lives of their men to their terrifying and mighty ruler.

As the men traveled further north, they entered the foreboding Siberian tundra. This area was called “the Land of Shadows'' by famous traveler, Ibu Batuta. Time was not on Timur’s side. He was suffering losses every day. Men were losing appendages due to frostbite. His army continued to trample everything they came across. As they rode on, they discovered more and more signs of life. They followed these signs until they came upon Toktamish’s vanguard, near the Samara river. Both generals spent the rest of winter and spring maneuvering and skirmishing, trying to gain any advantage they could. As summer began, rain fell in buckets, for days and weeks at a time. The deluge was accompanied with heavy fog, making visibility extremely low. Timur’s men had marched over 1,800 miles over five months. With the seasons changing, the sun now stood in the sky all day and well into the night. The men were exhausted. They had been in battle formations since first encountering Toktamish’s vanguard. Regardless, their morale was high. The sky had finally cleared, and the battle was drawing nigh.

The right of Timur’s army was his crack force. They consisted of the “tula bahatur,” or the madly valiant, akin to the berserkers in Viking culture. His sons and grandsons headed his corps, and he led the reserve center, which would end up deciding the coming battle. As the two armies stood arrayed against one another, Timur suddenly struck camp and ordered his seven divisions to do the same. They did this, and held a magnificent banquet right in front of Toktamish’s forces. Justin Marozzi called this “...a deliberate show of contemptment for the Horde, and an exercise in psychological warfare typical to [Timur’s] imagination and audacity.” Additionally, this rested his soldiers and boosted their morale. The next morning, June 18, 1391, was overcast and dreary – the calm before the storm. With his armies assembled in their seven divisions, Timur rode to the head, dismounted, and lay prone on the ground, giving his thanks to Allah. The mighty war drums began to pound, and the kourrouns, seven-foot-long trumpets, bellowed their awful cry. Sayid Baraka, the holy man, then laid prostrate and gave a final prayer to Allah for victory. Grabbing a clump of dirt, he turned to face the Horde’s army. He threw the dirt and shouted, “Your faces shall be blackened through the shame of your defeat!” He turned to his emperor and said in a whisper, “Go where you please, you shall be victorious.” Then the charge was called.

What follows is a brutal, unyielding, three-day-long fight. A great black dust formed when more than 400,000 human beings and horses careened into each other at full tilt. This battle began on Timur’s right, when his son, Miranshah, charged impetuously into Toktamish’s left. The combat raged indecisively, as both armies pushed their centers forward in support. On Timur’s left, Omar Shayk was being overwhelmed by the superior forces of Toktamish. Toktamish was here with his men, pushing them forward into the maelstrom. Timur saw the Khan’s standard and plunged his reserves into the flank of Toktamish’s honor guard. Gripped with fear at seeing Timur’s standard, Toktamish panicked and fled, right at the point of victory. Seeing their leader run, the standard of the Golden Horde fell. The Mongols became disheartened and attempted to flee. This is where the true slaughter commenced. Now in command of the field, Timur’s men were unleashed. Those who were not killed were enslaved. He had captured Toktamish’s camp, with its many horses and provisions and could leisurely loot the countryside to his heart's content. The battle of Kunduchar river was over, and 100,000 men and women had lost their lives.

Spoils were divided, and great festivities were held on the Volga, where Jochi, son of Ghengis Khan, once held his imperial nomadic court. However, Toktamish was still alive. It would be three years before he would rear his head to challenge Timur once again. Timur was busy in Persia. He put down rebellions in northern Iran before sacking Tiflsisi, Georgia. He then captured Baghdad and Shiraz without a fight. Then he heard news that Toktamish was plotting against him. He was raiding and pillaging in Georgia; but that was Timur’s job. He would put an end to the Toktamish problem once and for all. He wintered near the Caspian sea, having his many wives brought to him for company. When Spring began, he prepared for war. He would invade the Golden Horde one last time. He sacked Georgia’s capital before he left. In this mountainous and hilly area, Toktamish’s forces had very little maneuverability. The chase would not take five months and thousands of miles. At the Terek river, Toktamish attempted to make a stand.

Seeing Toktamish in charge of favorable ground, Timur marched along the river, trying to cross and outwit Toktamish. However, Toktamish followed Timur’s movements, and a complicated ballet involving hundreds of thousands of men marching and counter-marching began. Timur showed himself to be the craftier leader. He ordered the women at the camp to adorn armor and keep fires burning. Timur and his men marched to a suitable crossing point, and Toktamish was fooled. As the two armies were now on the same side of the river, battle would begin without hesitation. As the fight began, Toktamish attempted to turn the Tatar left. Seeing this serious threat to his flank, Timur counter-charged his reserves. Their attack was so successful the emperor found himself isolated as the Mongols re-grouped all around him. Timur’s chronicler, Yazdi, says, “His arrows were all discharged, his half-pike broke to shatters.” The emperor was holding on, but he was completely isolated in the maelstrom on the left when one of his officers rode to the rescue with fifty men. They formed a circle around the emperor and used captured enemy wagons to build an impromptu fort around which they could rally. It was then that Muhammad Sultan, commander of the Tatar right, descended on the Mongols. The Mongols fought bravely, but the assault was unrelenting. The left wing of the Golden Horde was completely shattered. Next came the center. They met head-on in a violent charge. Pools of blood spouted from gaping wounds, and people were trampled by horses. Holding on the left, and victorious on the right, the Tatar center won the day. Toktamish was defeated, and his men were completely shattered. 

Tens of thousands of people were dead on the field. Timur now had free reign to enslave, loot, and desecrate the entirety of the Golden Horde’s territory. He chased Toktamish into the Bulgar forests and then turned to the major urban areas. He would have sacked and razed Moscow, but he had much bigger targets in mind. Moscow was a relatively small settlement at this time. Tana, where the Don river meanders into the Black Sea, was the first to feel the wrath of Timur. He separated the inhabitants by religious affiliation. Muslims were spared, while the large Christian merchant population was exterminated. Saray, the Horde’s capital, was the next to be given to the flame; its inhabitants were left to freeze in the snow. In removing Saray and Tana from the maps, Timur committed a not-so-subtle coup. Both cities belonged to the northern-flowing half of the Silk Road. As these cities disappeared, the trade route fell into disrepair. All trade was now funneled directly through Timur’s empire. Timur forever wrecked the Golden Horde, and this would eventually indirectly lead to the rise of Moscow.

Toktamish was a husk of his former self. He would ride the remnants of the horde he once led as an outcast, attempting to garner followers from the devastated country. Timur had shown himself the master of north, west, and east. His empire now sprawled from the Don river to the Gulf of Persia, from Lake Bacal to Baghdad. His hunger for power, wives, and plunder would not cease. In fact, in the coming years, Timur would prove he was just as blood-thirsty as ever, if not more so. In these last years of his life, Timur would not just be the “scourge of god;” he would truly become the shadow of death. His empire bulged past the borders of Europe and Africa and penetrated into the Indian subcontinent, until he finally ran out of time at the gates of China.
Timur’s rise from lesser noble, to rustler, to emperor was truly an extraordinary feat. It showed how devastatingly powerful someone who instilled fear in their many followers could become. He played with human life and conducted himself as if he were a god, all in the never-ending search for “more.”

In the conclusion of this series of “Turning Tides,” we’ll discuss how Timur went on to be tested by vassals and enemies alike. He would build towering monuments to knowledge and faith and towering pyramids of human skulls, and in the end, his conquest would only be thwarted by time. I’m your host, Joseph Pascone; thank you so much for listening.