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SHE OF THE BOOK by Geneva Be cautious of female captives with a magic book! It was the time of Timur, the great conqueror and humbler of kings and emperors. Amuja and I were brothers. Well, not quite. His mother and mine were both wives of Baregu, but that was all the relationship there was. As my mother continually reminded me when I was growing into manhood, my real father had been one of Timur's earliest allies, even a friend, but there had been a falling out, and Timur had my father taken by a ruse and executed. Following the custom of the tribes round Samarkand, my mother, one of my father's younger wives, my sister and I were given to Baregu, who had kept Timur's favor. Amuja was one of his sons by another wife. So Amuja and I had grown up together. He was just a year younger than me, but a real son of Baregu by another wife. Because we were close in ages we had played together as boys, squabbled like real brothers do, got into mischief in the bazaars of the city, learned to ride together, and, as was fit for members of a warrior tribe, had early learned the arts and skills of warfare. We became very close as boys and as we grew into men it was natural we should take up arms together in the service of Timur. Still, my mother made sure I never forgot my father's fate. She need not have worried. The men, and women too, of our clan had long memories. Yet, Timur was the Khan, and feared for his ruthlessness. If he had an inkling of the resentment my mother had instilled in me for my father's death I would not have had long to live. At fifteen my sister was married to the son of a rich merchant in Samarkand. He soon moved away further east along the silk road and I never saw her again. So my mother and I were all that were left of our family. Being regarded as brothers by most, according to the customs of our tribe, it was natural that Amuja and I were placed in the same troop of the Khan's forces. We started out as simple cavalrymen, and soon discovered the exhilaration of combat. Amuja was more reckless and dashing than me, and as Baregu was in Timur's favor, Amuja's prowess was more recognized by our commanders than mine and he soon had a higher rank. Not that Amuja did not deserve his promotion, he was brave, resourceful and cunning, a natural leader. Our advancement started in one of Timur's raids through the south of the Caucasus. Amuja had been given command of a small troop of riders and I was his deputy. During a patrol we discovered an ambush and been able to warn the main party. For that we had received the Khan's thanks and Amuja was even promoted to the command of over a hundred riders. It was natural I went along with him too. I was given twenty men under me, part of Amuja's command In another series of skirmishes and battles too, that began as a defensive campaign against some of the Golden Horde invading from around Muscovy, Amuja's horsemen, my troop included, used some bold moves, routed them and chased them back to their northern forests. After this Amuja was given command of a thousand men, and I had a hundred horsemen under my orders. I was pleased with my progress. I knew I was an effective commander and a skilled warrior. I was also more cautious than Amuja, but I knew too that less of my men died in the skirmishes. In time I knew I could become one of Timur's generals. But it was about that time I began to notice Amuja's attitude to me was slowly changing. He became gradually more overbearing, ordering me about in an increasingly imperious and surly tone, and even criticizing me in front of lower ranks. I tolerated it at first, as we were brothers, but eventually it began to rankle me. In another of Amuja's sweeps we had captured Zernos, a small city just north of the Caucasus mountains. When we appeared before the city gates and demanded surrender it was not long before the city gates were opened wide and we rode in. The inhabitants did not resist us at all and we spared them, but the ruling family were pulled from the palace and dragged before us. From our horses Amuja and I and other captains looked at down at the captives. The king, his queen, a son and three daughters huddled before us. The older woman was barely moving. She seemed very ill, almost unconscious. The younger women, all in their teens, were quite pretty. Amuja sneered at them. "Kill them all," he commanded to some foot soldiers by us. I held his arm, took him aside and whispered. "Amuja, there has been enough slaughter. The city surrendered to us almost immediately. Spare these, then it will be known that those who surrender quickly will be spared." He shook off my arm irritably. "They were the former ruling family," he sneered. "They deserve to die." "But if you kill them it will make others realize they can expect no mercy from us, and resist more. I know we would certainly beat them, like any who oppose us. We have the military skill and might, but that might cost the lives of some of our men." "You are too soft, Seljan," he sneered again. "You are becoming weak, like a woman." I saw one of my subordinates had overheard and began to frown, but I pretended to ignore Amuja's taunt. I felt fury inwardly- now I would have to be harsh with the other man in case he thought me weak-but I forced myself not to react. I just looked at Amuja and laughed as if I had not recognized the insult, that I had only thought it a joke. "Very well." Amuja gave a thin smile. Perhaps he thought I was too afraid to react to his insult. "As you wish." he growled eventually. "I will spare the younger women. They will do for someone's harem. The old one," he gestured to the queen, "is not worth saving. But the men are to be executed." He barked a command to some soldiers and the two men were thrown to their knees and beheaded in an instant. The older woman's throat was slit. The younger women screamed. One fainted. Amuja waved his hand. "Since you are fond of these weaklings, take one for yourself. There, take that one on the right. She should suit the likes of you. I will send the others back to Timur for his harem." "Would you not take one of the women yourself?" asked one of the captains. Amuja sneered. "No, these women are only fit for milksops." He smirked at me. "I prefer the tough women of our tribe." I suppose he had already forgotten he was sending two supposed weaklings to Timur. I noticed the wary look in the captain's eye. Tamerlane would not appreciate that insult if he heard about it. I would remember what Amuja had said, it might be useful in the future. Amuja and the others rode off with two of the surviving women. I looked down at the girl I had been given. She was kneeling, her back hunched. I dismounted and put my hand under her chin to make her look at me. She looked as if she was about sixteen. I thought she was quite pretty despite her tear-stained face and the bedraggled state of her black hair, but I wondered if she would be a suitable woman for me. As a princess she would have had servants. I wondered if she was even able to cook. Now she would have to share my cramped campaign tent until I could take her back with me to Samarkand. I had taken no wives yet. I liked women and had used some, but they were too much of an encumbrance at this stage in my life. I needed to make my mark in battle. Then Timur would favor me, I would become one of his generals and I could have my pick of women. I did not really want this girl, but now I could not leave her either. I swung her up into my saddle and rode to my tent. She felt limp and did not resist. I supposed she was partly in shock. Her clothing was of rich quality, but now stained with the blood of her kin. She did not reply when I spoke to her, but of course she would not have understood me anyway as we spoke different tongues. At my tent I pulled her out of the saddle, prying her fingers, frozen with fear, from the saddle and carried her in. I laid her on some cushions. Xiang rushed to stand in front of me and bowed. Xiang was my Chinese slave, a prisoner of an earlier raid on China by another minor commander in one of Timur's early campaigns. I had won him in a wager involving a horse race. He had shown himself very valuable, repairing my clothes, cooking for me, running errands and now, as I acquired more rank, accompanying me to the wars. He had even shown a useful knowledge of some herbs, remedies, and healing. "I have been given this woman. Make sure she is fed and wash that blood off her," I ordered. "Get her clean clothes." As I ate some meat I watched while he tended to the girl. I wondered if he felt sympathy at another captive, but his face was expressionless. I was wakened that night with the girl's weeping. She must have come out of her shock. She had not taken any food. I turned irritably on my blanket. I briefly considered slapping her to keep quiet, but I took pity on her. I had not used her. I was too tired from the day's activities. Next morning she appeared to be sleeping when I awoke. I ate some horsemeat and grain that Xiang had prepared for me. He had cooked some green stuff too, even insisting that I ate it. He said it would make me live long. At least he had been able to make it taste palatable with some of his herbs and sauces. I hurried to Amuja to find out our plans for the day. He was sitting with two of our captains around a chart near the remains of the city gate. The occasional shouting and screaming from the background as our troops plundered the city only disturbed us slightly. True, the city had surrendered promptly, but our troops were entitled to some plunder and Timur would appreciate some more gold. We were now planning the next route of our campaign. The next city state was further south, with a river between us. I never liked river crossings. We would be vulnerable, but as always, we were confident, as few enemies had been able to resist us long. The Ottomans to the west were becoming a danger. They were tough, but they had not devised tactics to counter our mounted archers in any of our previous battles, and we knew we had their measure. "So how was your new slave in bed?" Amuja asked. "She is a lively one," I lied. It would not have done to admit that I had taken pity on her. "Better to stick to our own women," he grunted. I was momentarily surprised to see the girl when I returned to my tent that night. With the plans of the day I had forgotten all about her. Her eyes were red with crying and she looked at me in an expression somewhere between terror and despair. At first I was irritated. She must have known she was only a female prize, and should expect to be treated as such, but when I thought more of her situation I felt pity for her. I looked down at her, assessing her. Then I saw that Xiang had chained her to a peg in the tent. I wondered if he had thought she might try to escape. There would have been no place for her to go. She was quite pretty, with an olive skin, and dark hair framing her face. Her hair was shorter than women of our tribe wore theirs. I supposed it was the style in Zernos. There was something about her dark eyes. I saw misery, apprehension, but also determination and calculating purpose. I would have to be careful of her. Her features were regular and her body, what I could see beneath the loose robe covering her, was slim but well shaped. I would relish taking her to my bed. But I was hungry. I called to Xiang for food and drink. It arrived soon and I began to consume it. Then I noticed the girl looking at the food, but she said nothing. "Has the girl been fed?" I asked. "No, master," replied Xiang. "She refused food, but she drank some water." I beckoned to the girl, but she only looked at me warily. I rose and, carrying my plate, went over to her. She shrank back when I bent over her, but I sat down beside her and offered her some food. She shook her head, but I took a piece of meat and held it to her lips. Hesitatingly she took it, chewed it and swallowed it then eagerly consumed the rest that I gave her. I pointed to myself. "Seljan" I said. It was time she knew her master's name. I nodded encouragingly and said it again. Hesitatingly she sounded out the word. I pointed to her and raised my eyebrows in query. The sound she uttered was strange but it sounded like Casja in our language and that is what I called her from then on. I did not take her that night either, but I did the next, twice. She bled the first time, so I knew she had been a virgin. I suppose as a princess she would have been protected from men until a suitable match had been found for her. She was rigid at first, then limp and unresponsive to me, not resisting and fighting as some female captives did, but neither enthusiastic like some women of our tribe. I was annoyed. She would have expected what her fate would be. She should also have had the sense to know that if she objected too much I could have her killed, or given away. She should have realized too that I was a commander of some rank, and that her life with me would be better than with others. The next day I was off commanding a minor raid to some outlying villages near the city and we returned with a good haul of grain and some cattle. They would be useful supplies for our soldiers. Of course Amuja complained that we had no plunder suitable for sending back to Samarkand, but what did he expect from a few mean villages? I suspected he knew too, but was just using it as an excuse to belittle me. I was inwardly furious when berated me in front of my men, but I held my tongue. The time was not ripe for my revenge. Yes, I had decided on revenge, but I would take time to make sure I planned it well. I had not yet decided on the form of the revenge. I might kill him, of course, but in a way that would be too easy. I wanted to humiliate him. During the next two weeks after taking the city we rested in camp, and I started to know Casja better. Her manner softened gradually and she even began to learn some of my language so that we were able to talk. Despite our totally different backgrounds, or perhaps because of them, I began to get more fascinated by her. She had seemed awkward at first, then gradually she took on an air about her that made me aware of my own limitations. She developed a grace that the women of our tribe lacked and she started to take pride in her appearance, even washing her whole body everyday. She appeared more and more beautiful to me and she seemed to be more contented with me as well. Our lovemaking progressed from perfunctory to prolonged and passionate. She had a knack of caressing me that relaxed me after my meeting with Amuja. I realized I had a rare prize. It was about three weeks too, after she had come into my possession, that she started to bleed. I found her looking in misery at a stained pad she had taken from between her legs. She was even weeping. I wondered why she was so upset. She was mature enough. A woman her age must have had monthly bleeding before. "See what you can do for her," I ordered Xiang. He gave her an herbal soup and she seemed to rest easier. As she got better at our language, we began to communicate better, and I soon began confiding in her as we lay in bed at nights. I loved caressing her soft skin and feeling the different textures of her hair, the soft silky feel of her tresses, and the more springy hair between her legs. Often she caressed me too, running her long fingers delicately over my chest and back. She would guide my lips to her breasts, burying my face in her soft warmth, and allowing me to nibble and suck at her nipples, all the time her stroking and kissing my manhood until we were ready and eager for each other. After we made love we would talk on the pillow and gradually she learned of my own story and my growing resentment of Amuja Some months later, after our campaign was over, we were summoned to Samarkand. Timur had called his commanders back to plan yet another invasion, this time of China, it was rumored. Our path took us back past Zernos, Casja's city, but where she had seen her father and brothers slaughtered, her sisters enslaved, and she herself had come into my possession. I watched impassively as she wept in front of the gates of the city. It was time we moved on, but she asked me to delay. "I need to make my peace with my ancestors who lived here." Her eyes were large and appealing. I shrugged. This was too much sentimentality for me, but I could not resist her entreaties. "Do not be too long," I commanded. "We cannot delay or we might offend Amuja. I have enough trouble with him." I waved her to the city gates, but on second thoughts I swung her into my saddle and took her into the city myself. It was now some months since we had taken Zernos. The city walls were rebuilt, but some buildings were still in ruins from our plunder. The citizens were going about their business as usual. Some looked at me with fear, and ran out of my way. Some looked at me with hatred, but that did not bother me. As a commander in Timur's forces I was quite safe. Casja pointed to the ruins of the palace, and I nudged my horse towards it. Some fools had fired it when the city fell. A pity, it had been an impressive building, with a good sized square in front of it, now partly occupied by the booths of small merchants and the tattered tents of beggars. It looked as if some of the palace had even been plundered by the local citizens. Now our local governor had to take up meaner quarters in another part of the city. If I were governor I would have ejected the merchants out of the square and have the local inhabitants repair the palace for him. Casja indicated that she wanted to dismount and I let her down out of my saddle. "Seljan, I will be only a few minutes. I wish to look in what were my parents' rooms." She was crying. How could I resist her? I watched as she entered the ruins. I turned and looked over the city. My soldier's eye saw that the palace was designed more for administration than fortification. It was set back into a hill. Any enemy only need take the hill and then be able to rain arrows and rocks on the palace below. The hill itself appeared to be of a soft rock. Many swallows were fluttering around the nests they had hollowed in the rock face. I saw a group of horsemen coming my way. I recognized by their style of clothing they were Timur's men too. One of the riders was one of our commanders who had been given the administration of Zernos. Timur usually preferred local governors, as long as they obeyed him unquestionably. It was less drain on his troops that way. I made sure to bow to the governor as he outranked me, but I knew him of old. In fact we were friends. He was a veteran of Timur's wars, now getting on in years, but renowned as a capable soldier, tough and ruthless when necessary. His name was Namagan. "So Seljan, what brings you here? Just visiting, or are you on an inspection for Khan Timur?" He laughed at me and slapped my back, but there was just a touch of forced joviality. Timur was a demanding and sometimes capricious Khan. I laughed to put him at his ease. "No, Namagan, some matters of my own. I was given a woman of this city when we took it. She was a princess of its ruling family. As we were returning this way on our way home she wanted to see her former home, and I am indulging her." He nodded. "Yes, I heard from some of the citizens that the family had one girl and three boys. Careful," he laughed, "One girl, she will have been spoiled. You do not want to spoil any woman." I was slightly puzzled. When we captured the ruling family there had been three girls and one youth. I supposed he had got the information mixed up. It was good to see him again. We soon got to talking about the campaign, past wars, our success, the morale of the men, then the city of Zernos. I waved my arm round. "It looks prosperous again. And I see you have repaired the fortifications already." "Yes, we may need them again sometime. The Ottoman to the west are getting active. If they start pressing on Timur's lands we would have to be in a position to resist them. " "But they are Muslims, like Timur?" Namagan grinned. "I know Timur is a Muslim, but that has not stopped him from invading other Muslim lands, as well as heathen Chinese, or infidel Christian lands. Any excuse at all will do to invade any land where there is plunder to be got." I knew that was true. "Never fear," I said. "We are better fighters than the Ottoman. Maybe Timur will invade their lands and take their gold and jewels too." We got to talking about Zernos more, I was beginning to wonder where Casja had got to. I hoped she had not decided to escape from me. If she had, Amuja would be very amused at my expense. I was relieved when I finally saw her picking her way out of the ruins and approaching us. She did not interrupt us, but stood obediently at the side and waited like a dutiful slave. Namagan looked at her, appraisingly, for too long a time. I felt my jealousy begin to rise at his boldness. "So, she was of the royal house of this city?" he said. "Quite a beauty. My congratulations, Seljan. You know, Seljan." he added. "There is some interesting history here. I have found, with questioning old men, that more than a century ago this city was under the control of the great Khan, one of Genghis' heirs. Then for some reason it slipped from their control. There are legends in the city that it was protected by a witch called Calyxce, who was supposed to be one of the ruling family, a princess, or a queen or something like that. " I saw Casja 's eyes flicker briefly at the mention of Calyxce. "I spoke to some old citizens," Namagan continued, "and they said that there is even a legend that the witch turned the Mongol attackers into women. They were then captured and made into slaves, beautiful female slaves. There are some old legends too of the city, that it was famed for the beauty of its slaves. Yet we were able to take the city easily. The so-called magic must have been superstition, that is all." "Timur was especially pleased to hear of its capture, because it was a century ago it escaped the grasp of Genghis' successors. Timur has always fancied himself as a greater conqueror than Genghis." I had been idly watching Casja. She looked beautiful with her dark hair fluttering in the slight wind. Then her eyes flickered a little as Namagan spoke about the magic. Her cheeks colored slightly and she looked down. Had she understood some of what he said? And what did it mean? Was she embarrassed by the talk of witchcraft? We took our leave of Namagan and his party and I swung her into my saddle and hurried East. I wanted to catch up with our forces before nightfall. She felt warm and desirable in front of me. My arm was around her slim waist and occasionally I slid my hand up to cup her breasts. She did not resist and I even felt her nipple harden. She stroked her hands on the hair of my arm. The slight smell of perspiration at her hair and at her neck stimulated my desire. I thought briefly about dismounting and taking her on the grass of the plains, but I had delayed long enough. We needed to catch up with the main part of our forces before nightfall. Then I felt a hard object in one of my explorations. Casja was clutching an object in a pocket of her clothes. "What is that?" I asked casually. "Oh, just a souvenir of my life in the palace. I picked it up in the ruins." "It is a book?" I asked. "Yes," she hesitated. "My mother had it. I found it in the ruins of her quarters in the palace." I shrugged. I could not read, and anyway I knew that it would be in a different language to ours. Besides, a warrior like me had no need to read anyway. That was for scribes and scholars. I wondered why she wanted a book. The rest of our long journey back to Samarkand was uneventful. As was my duty I took some time to visit my mother and show Casja to her. I would not have bothered with a mere slave, but Casja was now more than that. At the door of Baregu's mansion I made myself known to a slave and said that I wished to speak with my mother. Baregu himself came to welcomed me in. "My son!" He threw his arms around me. "It brings me much pleasure to see you again. I see you are well?" Baregu had never treated me as other than a true son. "And you, father? I hope you are in good heath? Yes, I am well. Father, this is my wife Casja. She is from Zernos in the Caucasus. "I wondered why I had said she was my wife. I owned her as a slave, but I had never taken her in marriage according to the customs of our tribe.. Baregu politely bowed. "It is a pleasure to meet my son's wife." Casja politely bowed back to him. "I am honored to meet you, father Baregu." She would not speak again unless she was spoken to directly. I liked and respected Baregu. He had been as good to me as a real father might have been. He was genuinely interested in me and my progress. I only regretted the manner in which my mother and I had come to him. We discussed Timur's new conquests for some minutes then, "You will wish to speak with your mother?" he asked. "Yes Father, if you will permit it." "Seljan," he replied. "You need not ask." He shouted a command to a slave hovering in the background. Then as a hooded figure approached, he bowed to me "I will leave you now, my son. I am sure you and your mother wish to be alone." I bowed back to him. My mother and I embraced and I introduced Casja to her. At first she looked at Casja with some reserve, even distaste. I was expecting that. The women of our tribe were tough and resilient. They looked down on women of other tribes. I suppose she thought Casja would be too soft. No matter, I was growing more fond of Casja. Even if I did take other wives she would be a good senior wife to run my household. I smiled inwardly. Perhaps I was building too many plans in my mind. Perhaps I had too much ambition. Who knows? I might be killed in the next battle or some skirmish. I looked at Casja appraisingly. She had nice wide hips and full breasts. She would make a good mother. Perhaps it was time I got her with child so I would have descendants. Perhaps Casja understood what I was thinking. She straightened and breathed in to raise her breasts more and swayed her hips slightly. I left Casja with my mother while I set off to the Timur's palace, in another part of the city. In wonder I looked around Samarkand as I made my way through the winding streets. The city was growing fast, no doubt due to the plunder Timur brought it. The streets and alleys were lined with bazaars and small shops, and even several new mosques were under construction. They were quite large too! So Timur was keeping up the pretense of being devout, but I knew he had too much of the nomadic conqueror in him to let religious scruples or principles limit the lands he wanted to conquer. Even the surrounding khanates, fragments from the breakup of Genghis, Kublai, and Batu's empires, were not safe from his ambition. Perhaps to bolster his prestige, Timur's quarters, too, were being faced with light colored marble. They shone in the sun like an Indian temple. That must have been the influence of these builders he had captured in India. I made my way into the main room, and in the crowd of commanders and generals I recognized my own general. Amuja was by his side, along with two other sub commanders like me. Timur himself was seated at a low table, on a dais, a chart in front of him, no doubt talking about his plans for the next year when the winter was over. I studied the man. He was of an allied clan to mine sure enough, but he had more Mongol blood than me. He had much more of an eastern cast to his face and complexion. I had much more of the Turkish race in me, from my mother I suppose. At length Timur stood up to talk to us all. The force and presence of the man was obvious. All hushed almost immediately. He was economical in his movements, possibly to hide the lameness whose description was sometimes added to his name. As he started to pace back and forwards over the dais his limp betrayed itself as a slight rolling step. It may have affected his walking, but I knew it did not affect his prowess as a skilled rider and mounted warrior. He looked round the assembled soldiers as if familiarizing himself with all of the faces of his commanders. At one point his eye caught mine and held there a few seconds. I quailed under his gaze, and I was relieved when his eyes moved on. His face began to flush as he began to describe his plans. The man lived for the excitement of conquest and battle. It was as if he got bored sitting in his palace, no doubt his nomadic ancestry. Samarkand was not great enough for him. He was a man of the open plains and battle camp. There was a low murmur when he told us the target of our next raids and conquest was not China, but Persia. Timur had defeated the Persians some years before, but there had been some unrest. Grimly I thought of the slaughter ahead. Timur would make an example of the rebels to discourage others. He had a rough chart in front of him and his generals, but I knew it failed to account for the territory in between. The way across the plains was long and arduous before there would be not much to support the army. At least it would not involve the even longer trek over the eastern plains and mountains to China. Wryly I thought of the soldiers. Timur would want them hungry. Then they would be more desperate to gain plunder. As usual, his speech became a shout, then almost a scream as it ended with a harangue to fight and win gold, plunder and women. We all cheered at the end, but as I made my way out an aide caught my arm. "Commander Seljan," he said, "Khan Timur demands you come to him." My stomach turned into knots. I remembered Timur had looked at me some time during his speech. Had he remembered I was the son of a man he had killed, or had Amuja spoken ill of me to him? Would I be killed or exiled, or did he want to reward me? I wondered about making a run for it, but I knew I had no chance of escape. There were too many around me. In fear and trembling I allowed myself to be led into his presence. I bowed deeply before him, even prostrating myself an the floor. "Get up, Seljan", he said irritably," these obeisances are for the weak and effete. You are a soldier like me, not a peasant. Stand up like one." So he was in a good mood this time. I remembered how, two years before, he had impaled three men from a neighboring tribe who he said had not shown him sufficient respect when brought into his presence. "How may I be of your service, great Khan?" I asked. He looked at me penetratingly. His eyes seemed black and inscrutable under his folded Mongol eyelids. "Seljan, some months ago, after you took Zernos- that capture was well done- your commander Amuja took some women prisoners. He sent two women to me. In fact I took one as a wife. You may thank him for sending her to me. She is very comely. But she has told me that she is the sister of a woman you took as a slave. She wishes to see her sister again and has asked me if I would permit it. It is my wish that you allow her to see her sister." "Great Khan, it is for you to command." I was almost faint with relief. Timur waved his hand irritably. "I do command it! You are to bring your woman here tomorrow. No, there is too much going on here. I will send servants with the girl to your quarters. Where are you lodged?" "I am at my father Baregu's house. My mother is one of his wives." I thought it better not to remind him that Baregu was only my stepfather. "Long life to you, Great Khan, I said in leaving, and bowing low, I backed out of his presence, my knees knocking in relief. I wondered what Casja's reaction would be when she knew she was to see her sister. When I reached Baregu's house that night, I called for Casja, but instead a slave led me to her. She was sitting with my mother working on a large rug. My mother beamed at me. "Casja has never woven before. So I am teaching her. She is learning fast." I felt an inward relief. They had become friends. That would make it easier if I wanted to leave Casja there when I went to Persia with the army. "Casja," I said, "I have spoken to Timur. Your sister is one of his wives. She wishes to see you." Casja gave a small scream of joy, and sank to her knees. "She will be brought here tomorrow." I said. Casja could hardly sleep that night. To try to quiet her I took her on the furs of our bed, but it was no use. She was still bubbling with excitement and before dawn I finally arose and went up to the flat roof of the house, watching the stars disappear and the flush of dawn light up the eastern sky. Then I was aware of her behind me. Her hand stroked my hair and into my robes caressing me intimately. I swept her up and carried her back to bed. I wondered if her small cries would waken the rest of the household, but I did not care. Casja's sister was brought to us before noon by an elderly female and a eunuch of Timur. Both women were veiled of course, but when in our room Casja's sister threw off her coverings and embraced Casja. "Ionope! It is you!" Casja cried. Impassively I watched the women?s' tears. I was glad for Casja's sake, but I soon took my leave. It was women's business and I had things to do, like getting my weapons ready for the upcoming campaign. I liked to do this myself. I did not trust others, not even Xiang, to do a good job. Some hours later I had my weapons in order, and feeling thirsty, I reentered the house. Timur's servants were now beginning to make nervous sounds. It was time for Casja's sister to leave. I looked at the women. They were sisters sure enough. They looked similar, but whereas Casja seemed to have bloomed since she became mine, her sister seemed drawn and thin. There was bleakness in her eyes. I wondered why. She would have a better life in Timur's harem than Casja would, my single wife. Casja looked at her sister and exchanged nods. They approached me. "Seljan, this is my sister Ionope. I wish to thank you, and so does she for allowing us to meet once more. Please forgive me, but we have two things to ask of you. The first, please allow us to meet again." I shrugged. "I grant you that willingly, anytime, but it is not my doing only. It must meet the approval of Khan Timur as well. If you wish, I will say that you thank him for his generosity. But I warn you, it is not often I have his ear." The women nodded. Casja spoke again. "There is one more thing too. We had another sister, called Xenobia. She was sent to Timur too. She is not part of his harem. Do you know what has become of her?" I shook my head. "No, I have been on a campaign. Cannot you ask Timur yourself?" "There was a fleeting expression of distaste over Ionope's face. She said nothing but just bowed to thank me. The women embraced once more as she was led away. Casja was in tears, and I was moved enough to hold her. Fortunately Xiang was not in sight. It would not do to show any emotion in front of slaves. "Is your sister not happy?" I asked Casja as we lay in bed that night. We had just made love and I was feeling lazy and satisfied. "Why do you ask?" "It is just her appearance. She looks worried or moody." I wondered why I was concerned. Even if the woman was not happy, what concern was that of mine? She was a wife of a great conqueror. "Seljan?" Casja stroked my hand." No, she is not happy. She does not love him and he is cold to her. He takes her to bed, but there is no affection. He forces himself on her." "But he is ruler of men. She should be proud of Timur's power and her status. If she has children they will be nobles. She has little to worry about." "Seljan, women are not cattle to be seized or traded to men." she replied hotly, but her tone softened. "No Seljan, I am sorry. You are right. Women of my former status are just like trade goods. They have little choice in their mates. Women of my family would like to choose their husbands, like the common women of Zernos could, but because they are princesses, valuable in making alliances, they did not have that freedom. In fact Ionope was about to be betrothed to a prince of a city to the north of us, in Georgia. Then that all changed when you captured Zernos, and Ionope was sent to Timur. I have been fortunate. You are kind to me and I have come to love you. I am proud to be your wife, but Ionope was not as fortunate as me. She frets under Timur." She hesitated. "I think she hates him." I flinched at the words. That was treason. My duty as his vassal was to inform Timur myself but then the woman might be executed. Such a waste! She was pretty and well formed, meant for breeding. I would probably also turn Casja against me. Then I remembered the destruction Timur had caused my family. As I lay awake that night, with Casja's soft breathing next to me, I idly wondered if I could use Ionope's help for my long awaited revenge on Timur. She hated Timur, but she would have access to him at his most vulnerable moments. Next day I told my idea to Casja. "That is the beginning of a good plan," she said. "I must think about that." She was quiet the next few days. I thought she was getting into better spirits, then one day at our morning meal she vomited. I was concerned for her and wanted to find a physician, but she squeezed my hand and smiled at me. "There is nothing serious, Seljan, at least no illness. Many women undergo this. It is just that I am with child." She put my hand on her belly. In there is something of yours. In eight months or so I will give you a child. Perhaps if a son he will be a great warrior like you." She took my arm. "Dearest Seljan, you are a good husband to me. Earlier you called me your wife. I thank you for that. Not only do I owe you my life, but you have treated me well. I know that you will take more wives. I accept that. I am your woman and I must follow the customs of your tribe. You are my master and I wish you success." I looked into her eyes and saw it was the truth. For some reason I felt overwhelming affection for her. I embraced her clumsily then drew back in case Xiang saw my weakness. Our forces left three days later. I started off in a good mood. I was to be a father, and we were on our way to battle and plunder, but as the first day wore on my mood changed. I would miss my Casja and who know, perhaps the campaign would not be successful. Perhaps our enemies would have learned our tactics. I need not have worried. We met the first of the enemy in a week, and easily scattered them. Two cities fell to us. The first resisted us, but we took it in a day and as a lesson to others slaughtered all in it except for a few who we allowed to escape to spread panic and terror in the country ahead. Later I rode through the city, looking at the bloodied bodies lying in the street, understanding for the first time that I was tired of the killing. My life with Casja had shown me that these were people too, families that we destroyed. Timur was no empire builder. He might destroy people, cities, or nations, but he built nothing in their place, save for the plunder that he carried to Samarkand. Only Samarkand benefited from his depredations. Whole regions in Persia had been laid waste by his actions. The news of the killing must have worked, as the next city surrendered immediately our summons were made. I expected Timur to spare the inhabitants this time, but he still executed its ruler and family, all of its nobles and its garrison. His taste for blood was not lessening. About that time several new riders were sent to join my group. One of them caught my eye. He was quite small, but wiry and tough. He was heavily bearded, but with intelligent eyes. I caught sight of his use of a sword in some fighting. He was very skilled. He would make a good captain at some time. He name was Merisraw, one of Timur' s kin. I would have to keep an eye on him. It would not do to have a kinsman of Timur annoyed. Our invasion's route now led us into a hilly area. I was leader of a group of about two hundred riders sent to probe the enemy's defenses. Amuja dispatched us into the hills to check the terrain ahead. An hour or so into a secluded valley my scouts spotted a large Persian force waiting in ambush. I saw that we could bottle them up instead. My two hundred cavalry were not enough so I sent back to Amuja to suggest a plan. We would attack and hold the enemy while he brought up our main force and wipe them out As planned, I attacked with my two hundred, but soon the Persians started to push us back as expected. It would lead them into our trap. But where were Amuja's men? We fought well but we were now losing ground steadily, and my men were falling from their horses. I pulled my sword from the side of one Persian and desperately looked round to see if Amuja was coming with our main force as planned. Soon we would have to retreat to save ourselves. The Persians had almost broken through before finally Amuja's men arrived and we were reinforced. The Persians were eventually routed, but it was at sore cost to my own two hundred men. Half had been killed and most carried wounds, including myself. A spear had ripped along the muscle of my left forearm. Once the thrill of battle wore off I was almost fainting with the pain. When Amuja finally rode up I protested to him. "What delayed you? We were almost wiped out." "What do you mean?" he asked. "You were supposed to wait for us to get nearer and into position. You were too careless. I suppose you thought to get all of the battle glory for yourself." I looked at him in astonishment. The trooper who had brought me the message from Amuja had been killed in the action. "With your impetuosity you could have lost us the battle. I am sure Khan Timur will not be pleased to hear of this. I will report it to him." He pointed to my arm." Maybe that will be a reminder of your ineptitude in war." I forced myself to keep my temper under control. I could not prove Amuja a liar but I knew he had deliberately left me exposed. I saw Merisraw looking at me, as if gauging my reaction. He himself had a cut on his forehead. I would have challenged Amuja, I was so angry, but I was now in no condition for any more fighting. I had lost too much blood from my wound. It needed attention. Merisraw supported me as I rode to my tent, almost falling from my horse, I dismounted, almost collapsing. I could barely use the arm. Xiang rushed out to help me muttering his concern He helped me from my horse and led me to my bed making disapproving expressions, and furrowing his brow. I watched as he, took some clean water, washed my wound, and with a needle and some silk thread sewed the edges of my wound together. I had to grit my teeth with the pain, but I made no sound. He looked at me in pity. "No, Master, no shame to show pain," but showing such emotion was not the fashion of my tribe. Afterwards he shook some herbs from a pottery jar, laid them on my wound and wrapped all in a cloth. He followed this with a drink of some foul bitter concoction he said he had brewed from willow tree bark. Xiang always collected strange herbs and stuff on our expeditions. I had to force the dark liquid down, but in some minutes it removed some of the pain. I had expected it would work as I had tried some of the same drink previously after my leg had been bruised in a horse race. Even so I spent an uncomfortable night with the throbbing of my wound. Xiang removed the cloth and looked at it in the morning. The wound had turned a fiery red. "How is it, you heathen?" I gasped. The cloth had stuck on some blood and as it pulled away there was a fresh flow of blood and a stab of pain. I was very concerned. If I lost my arm I would be finished as a warrior. Even if I kept the arm, it might be weak and almost as useless. I cursed Amuja anew. Xiang smiled at me, showing yellow teeth. "Serious, Master, But you will live." "Will I lose the arm?" "No, Master, you will not lose the arm, but I think it will always be weak." He dressed the wound again with fresh herbs. The next three days were very painful, and I did keep my arm, even as Xiang had said, but the muscle was badly torn. I knew I would be left at least with a noticeable scar. After a week's rest I attempted to hold my bow, but I barely managed to bend it. My shield was too heavy as well. At least I still had strength in my sword arm. A week later we were deep into Persia. I had kept with the army, hoping desperately that my arm might regain its strength. Fortunately for me there had been no serious fighting. I was sitting by my tent, flexing my arm and lifting a shield when I heard a clatter of hooves and Timur rode up. As before, my stomach began thumping at his sight. "You are useless now for fighting, Seljan" he said." you cannot lift that shield." I wondered if, as I was no use to him he might have me killed. "I am sorry, great Khan. I am trying to strengthen my arm." "Show me your wound!" he ordered. I undid my bandage and held it up to him, trying to keep from wincing when he pressed it. He snorted in disbelief. "I think your fighting days are over." he said. "Now, your female slave, the one you call Casja. Where is she just now?" "She stays in my father Baregu's house, with my mother back in Samarkand." "I have been told she was from Zernos." "Yes, great Khan, she was a princess of that city. Her father was king. He was slain and his daughters enslaved. Lord Amuja gave her to me. Her sister Ionope is in your harem. You allowed them to meet before we set out on our campaign." He scowled. "And a poor acquisition she is too. She is cold to me in bed. I think I will give her away, maybe to some camel herder in the desert! I hope for your sake her sister is better in bed. But that is not what I wanted to tell you. My governor, Namagan is aging, and has taken sick. He wishes to return to Samarkand. I need a new governor. Do you think you are capable of that? Your slave understands the language. That way you can govern them more effectively. Perhaps she can spy out rebellion for you." I thought only briefly about it. I had hoped to become a great general. Now with my maimed arm further progress through the army was unlikely. In my condition, governor of a small city on the fringes of the empire was acceptable. I bowed. "Your humble servant thanks you, great Khan. I shall be your most loyal vassal." Amuja was mounted on his horse just behind Timur. I noticed Merisraw there too, discretely surveying the proceedings through half closed eyes. Little escaped him. Amuja smirked fleetingly. Now I would be out of his way and no longer be a rival for his own ambition. At that moment I swore an oath mentally that I would make him pay for his treachery, but I needed to use guile. Later that day I made my way to his tent and asked to see him. He received me warily. "My brother and commander," I said. I even bowed. "I am sorry that I cannot serve you in battle any longer. My arm is too weak now, and as the great Khan has given me the governorship of Zernos, now I must take my leave of you. I wish you success in your battles and long life. It has been an honor to serve under you. I will remember your advice." He was completely taken aback, and made no move to resist me when I embraced him. "I wish you well too, brother," he said. I left his tent satisfied. He no longer perceived me as a threat. Perhaps he thought he might even trust me. I started my journey back to Samarkand the next day. I had expected I would have to make my way alone but I had been given an escort of six riders. When Amuja joined my party I looked at him in surprise. "Why do you come with me?" I asked. "Perhaps the Khan fears for your safety, with that useless arm of yours. Besides. I have some booty to take back to Timur's palace. Also Timur sent me with some orders for his deputy there. He trusts me with important matters and, see, he has given me this as a token of his esteem." He drew a small knife. Its blade looked sharp and efficient, but it had an ornately carved ivory handle. "Timur says that is my name." Amuja said haughtily, pointing to some markings on its side. "How can you tell that?" I asked. "Is it the pattern of these marks?" I could not read myself, but I knew the letters meant some sounds. May I see it?" I asked. Its ornate carving intrigued me. "Oh, that is beautiful." I lifted it "It is well balanced too." I liked well made weapons. "Yes, I think Timur had it made by a craftsman he brought from China." Again I felt a tinge of jealousy at Amuja's present but my fighting days were over. At some point in the future I might impress Timur as a governor and get a similar token of his esteem. Just then my horse stumbled slightly when it slipped on some loose rocks. I knocked my arm accidentally on my saddle and I gasped. Amuja noticed. "Your wound is your own fault. You sought the glory, rather than wait for me. You were foolish. Now your battle days are over. So," he added, "you are going back to Zernos. I suppose you will have that woman with you." His tone was superficially polite, but underneath was contempt. There was a mixed mood in the reunion at Baregu's house. Casja and my mother were in tears at my wound, but then Casja was overjoyed at the news that she would be returning to Zernos. That night when Casja and I were alone in our chamber she took my hand. "Seljan, can I see your wound?" I unwrapped the bandage I still wore. The wound was healing but the skin was still red at the edges of ugly scabs. The muscle was ripped and torn under the twisted skin . "It is ugly," she said. "Does it still hurt?" I shrugged. "I am now used to it." Ugliness mattered little. I was, or had been, a soldier, and wounds were to be expected. "I have something to try, Seljan." She went into a small box that held some of her clothing and from the bottom lifted out a small package. She unwrapped a small book, covered in a yellowish-brown fine hide. "Do you recognize this?" she said. "Yes," I said. "Isn't it the book you retrieved from the palace, that time I took you there after you were given to me?" "Yes, I retrieved it that time you let me wander in the ruins of my parent's palace in Zernos. I had gone looking for it specifically. I said I wanted to commune with my ancestors, but I lied. Please forgive me, Seljan, but I needed the book." "But the palace was burned. Much was destroyed." "My mother had the book hidden well, in an alcove in the women?s' quarters. It was behind stone so it was well protected from the flames." I examined the book. It was quite small, no wider than my hand. I peered at its leather covering closely. "Is this the skin of a swine?" I asked suspiciously. "No." She gave a small shudder. "It is human skin. It helps the spells work." "Spells?" I grimaced. "Yes. It is magic." I opened up the pages. I do not know why, as I could not read, but I looked carefully at the symbols. I handed it back to Casja. "Do you see that the sounds of the letters are different on one side of each page from the other?" she said. "No, you know I cannot read." "I have been thinking about that, Seljan. If you are a governor you should learn to read." "But what are scribes for?" I asked. "How do you know you can always trust them to write what you want?" she said. "You will be able to send your own messages back to Timur in Samarkand." "He cannot read either," I pointed out. "Then he will have to rely on scribes. If he can trust them." She pointed out the letters in the book to me. "One here," she said. "is my language. It tells us what the spells do. But the other are the actual spells. I do not recognize the sounds but my mother said they correspond to an ancient language, one that is more than two thousand years old. The words of the spells are written in the sounds of our language that correspond to them. " "Why were you so concerned about the book? What do you need it for?" She took my hands. "Seljan, this magic book has strong powers. It gives a man or a woman who possesses it great powers. It can be used to heal illnesses, cure deformities, among other things. It originally belonged to my grandmother's grandmother. She was called Calyxce. She was queen of Zernos. " " Where have I heard that name Calyxce before?" I asked. "Namagan, your predecessor as governor of Zernos mentioned it to you when you spoke with him. He said she was known as a witch." I looked at her, so soft and appealing. She was very desirable even though her belly bulged with our child. "So, my wife is descended from a witch?" I thought it was hilarious. I burst out laughing. "You do not look witch-like to me," I grinned. Casja colored slightly. "No, she was not a witch and neither am I." "Where did Calyxce get the book, or the spells?" "There is a legend, too, of a necromancer in Zernos, and that she got the book from him. I do not know if that is true, but I wish to try something in the book." She turned to a page and folded it flat. "I have never tried any of the healing spells before. I may stumble over the language." She began to read the old writing, all the time holding my hand. I did not recognize anything she said. The sounds were neither of my language nor of Zernos. "It should start soon." she said. I gave a small start. The partly healed wound on my arm had begun to sting. It was not painful, more of a prickly feeling. It got stronger, then my wound began to feel warm. In a short time, as I watched the scabs fell off and the scarred skin began to even out. Even more wonderful, the scarred ridges of the muscle underneath became smoother. The surface of my arm almost appeared to shimmer. After some minutes I looked at it. All that was visible of my wound was a thin pale line. "Aiee." I shouted in jubilation. I flexed my fingers and swung my arm. It felt strong and supple. "Wonderful!" I shouted, embracing her. ?I am whole again. I can get back to the army. I....." I stopped when I saw Casja's face. She was beginning to cry. I wondered what had upset her. I thought about my future in bed that night. If I was back with my cavalry I could help win great victories. Then I thought of Casja, her dead parents, and all of the uncounted others that Timur's sieges and campaigns had destroyed. I realized I no longer wanted a part of the killing. I also realized Casja was awake beside me. I slid my hand over her breast. She held it there, rubbing her soft cheek on my healed forearm. "Seljan," she said, "you are my husband, or my master or whatever status you are, but I beg you, I did not heal you to help further Timur's ambitions." "Hush, you are right. I have had enough of killing. I will not tell Timur my arm is healed, nor Amuja. I will be a governor, and try to help the people of Zernos." Then I remembered Timur's message. "Oh yes, I am sorry. I forgot. When I had my audience with Timur, he said that he is dissatisfied with your sister. He says she is cold to him. Yes, I know she hates him, but she should be careful. He may give her away if he becomes tired of her. Her life may not be as pampered if he does that." I knew that as Timur's wife Ionope would have servants or slaves and be richly clothed. "Thank you for warning me," she said. "I will try to see her in some days. I will tell her what you said. Seljan, I am glad that you no longer have to bear the insults of Amuja. Seljan, you have a new life ahead of you. Feel this" She put my hand on her belly, and I felt a soft fluttering of my unborn son or daughter. "I am glad too that I no longer have him to command me. You know, Timur has given Amuja an ornamental knife, one even with his name on it, as a supposed token of his esteem." I said grudgingly. "He showed it off in front of me to taunt me. I have had enough of that man, even though he is my brother." "Would you wish to kill him, or humiliate him?" asked Casja. Her tone was calculating. "Humiliate him, I think, so that he may long rue his insults. Also, if I killed him I might get the displeasure of Timur. My mother too might suffer some consequences. She is the wife of Amuja' father." "I wish it too, Seljan." I would like him dead to avenge my slaughtered parents and brother, but I would be satisfied to humiliate him. You mother says Amuja has a bad reputation with women. He insults them. He has even abused women. He does not keep to the customs of your tribe." I shook my head. "Unfortunately I cannot think of a plan." Casja said nothing. I assumed she had gone to sleep. Next day, when we began to start loading our supplies I was irritated when I saw Casja holding some long conversation with Xiang. This was no time for delays. "Xiang?" I shouted. "I need you here. You are supposed to be checking our supplies." Xiang had been excited at my new post. I suppose it gave him more prestige too. He still prepared most of my food and was very particular about his spices and his pots. In fact he was a much better cook than Casja. I suppose as a princess she had servants or slaves to cook for her. He nodded to Casja as if in some agreement and ran to his work. I glared at him. "There are things to do," I snapped. "Yes, indeed Master," he said "and plans to be made." Then he merely bowed and went about his work. Amuja had been given a hero's welcome when he arrived home. There had even been a banquet in his honor. I pretended to be as pleased as anyone at his success, even giving a speech in his praise. I had kept my healed arm hidden. By the end of a week we were ready to leave to take up my governorship. Timur had given me an escort of two dozen riders as an escort, as now befitted my new title. I thought they might be useful if the populace of Zernos was restive. I watched Xiang supervising the loading some last-minute supplies outside Baregu's house. He was very efficient, but very fussy. We were almost done when I saw a group of riders approach. My hackles rose when I saw Amuja come out of Baregu's house to meet them. I drew Casja closer to me. "I hate that man," she muttered. "He is rude to me. Your mother says he abuses women, even those of your tribe." Amuja mounted his horse and then rode up slowly to us. He looked down at me. "You are too weak to use your weapons. Can you even ride?" His tone was only just polite. "I can, I thank you for your concern, brother." I pretended that I was grateful. I squeezed Casja's hand to keep her quiet and pretended not to notice his contempt. Amuja stared at her. "She is a weakling, like all of the women not from our tribe. Your son or daughter will be weak too." "Thank you for your concern, my honored brother. She is not a weakling" "As you wish." His face twisted slightly. "And thank you brother, for seeing me safely here," I said. "You will always be welcome as a guest in our palace at Zernos." Amuja brushed past me on his way back to the house to make his farewells. He deliberately brushed past my wounded arm, but it no longer hurt. He embraced his father. I gathered he would be returning to the army. I was outside, checking our supplies one last time. I saw Amuja go back into the house, then come outside and search his bag. He came back to me. It looked as if he had lost something. "Have you seen my knife?" he asked. "I had it this morning." "What, the knife you showed me earlier?" "Yes, The one that I was given earlier from Timur. The one with an ivory handle with my name carved on it." "No." I shook my head. "I have not been inside for hours." "Maybe one of the servants took it." I ignored the rudeness. "I am sure your father's slaves and servants are honest. Mine too. Come, I will help you look for it. Xiang!" I shouted, "have you seen Lord Amuja's knife?" "No master, but I look for it." Xiang bowed to us and entered the house. Soon he brought it to us. "It was lying under a cushion, master." Amuja's face reddened with embarrassment, but he did not apologize. I saw Xiang looking at us from a doorway, a slight smile on his face as Amuja climbed on his horse. With a clatter of hooves he and his party rode off. I felt a twinge of nostalgia, but I knew that I was sick of battle and blood. As I was reviewing the events of the last few weeks, I remembered Timur's comments about Ionope. In fact Ionope was brought to our house some days later. I saw the women embrace tearfully. I hoped for Ionope's sake Casja remembered to pass on the message about her performance in bed . I was slightly curious when I saw Xiang pass a small package to Ionope. "What is that?" I asked. "Oh, Ionope suffers from a small malady. Xiang has given her some herbs for its treatment." I nodded. That was good. I knew Xiang was a skilled herbalist as well as a cook. Perhaps he used the same herbs. Our way to Zernos took us west out of the hills around Samarkand, then west to Bokhara and across the Oxus. Then it was a miserable journey for some days across the dusty plains to the great inland sea. This time we were to sail across the sea to the Caucasus and to Zernos. Timur had ordered us to go that way to save time. I was nervous on the boat. I am a man of land, and hate rivers, lake or sea crossings, but this time the water was almost calm. It was almost pretty, with small wavelets shimmering in the sun, and the snowy peaks of the Caucasus growing before us as a galley took us safely across the sea to a small peninsula on the Western shore. We had saved many days on our journey. I was glad we had not gone through the mountains at the south of the lake. Winter was approaching and Casja would find the traveling uncomfortable. Our son was born two months after we arrived in Zernos. His delivery went smoothly and Casja was soon on her feet again. Not that she had much to do. We had slaves including Xiang to cook for us, and Casja now had three women attendants to care for her. She loved to hold our son and I loved to see him in Casja's arms, sucking contentedly at her breast. As he grew, I thought how much like her he appeared. It was early in a late winter night, one of my guards came to our chamber door. "Lord Seljan," he said, "there is a visitor wishes to see you. We have escorted him here from the city gates." "Who is it?" I asked. "He did not give his name. I did not recognize him as he was cloaked. " Casja looked at me with concern as I was belted on my tunic. I took a sword as well. I was suspicious. It might be an assassin from Timur. "Do you wish me to stay?" asked the guard. "Yes, until we know who it is. I may need some protection. Call some more guards as well." I strode into my council chamber. The figure entered. "Seljan," it began. I held up my hand. "You may leave," I said to the guards. When they had left the figure threw back his hood. It was a shock, but I soon recovered. "Amuja," I cried, pretending pleasure. It was indeed a sort of pleasure, as my enemy had now delivered himself into my hands. I threw out my arms and embraced him. "My beloved brother! Welcome, what brings you here?" He was almost crying. "Seljan, I am in trouble with Timur. For some reason he accuses me of plotting against him. I do not know how he thinks this. I have always been loyal to h