were marching against him, and a messenger from Genghis Khan arrived seeking a truce. He said, “The Great Qan sends you greetings and declares: ‘The magnitude of your power is not hidden from me, and you are to me like the dearest of my sons. The kingdoms of China lie in my hand; so forge friendship between us, grant passage to the merchants, and the land will prosper.’”

The Sultan said to the envoy, the Khwarazmian Maḥmūd, “You are of us and belong with us.” He presented him with jewels and asked him to be a sincere adviser, and the man agreed. The Sultan then asked, “Tell me truthfully: has Genghis Khan taken Tamghāj?” He replied, “Yes.” “What, then, is the wisest course?” “Peace,” he answered. The Sultan accepted, which pleased Genghis Khan, and affairs moved forward.

Soon afterward merchants arrived from the Tatar side. The Sultan’s uncle—governor of Transoxiana—greedily coveted their wealth, seized them, and thought them spies for the Tatars. A messenger from Genghis Khan came saying, “You guaranteed the safety of our merchants, and treachery is disgraceful. If you say ‘My uncle did it,’ then hand him over to us; otherwise you will see from me what you already know of me.”

Khwarazm Shah was confounded, yet he put on a brave front and ordered the envoys killed—an appalling deed. He fortified Samarkand and filled it with fighting men, but to no avail; the matter was settled.

When the year 616 AH began, Khwarazm Shah was in retreat and the Mongols advanced like a pitch-dark night. His situation worsened, his luck sank, his kingdom slipped away. He continued to fall back until he neared Hamadan, and his forces dispersed until only twenty thousand remained. He had scarcely swallowed before Mongol vanguards loomed over him and surrounded him. He escaped with his life while slaughter consumed his troops. He fled to the mountains, then to Mazandaran, and took refuge in a mosque on the seashore, praying in congregation, reciting, and weeping.

After a few days the enemy attacked; he fled in a small boat. Their arrows reached him and a party waded after him until he was stranded in midwater. He fell ill with pleurisy and said, “Glory be to Allah! Of all our dominion nothing remains to us but two cubits in which to be buried.”

He reached an island, where he lived as a hunted, lonely, exhausted man until he died. His valet shrouded him in his own turban in the year 617 AH.