(Samarkand, Uzbekistan, present day)

As the author of this humble saga again viewed the magnificent sights of Samarkand in modern Uzbekistan, he recalled one of the quotations of Tamerlane. "Let he who doubt our power and munificence look upon our buildings," the dreaded conqueror had once suggested.

The writer, however, knew that Tamerlane’s true perpetual historical legacy actually depended more on his taste for certain beautiful boys than for splendid architecture.

(Outside Ankara, Anatolia [in modern Turkey], over 6 centuries previously, July 1402)

Despite his brave front, Mehmet’s hand, which held his unsheathed scimitar, began to shake nervously, as Tamerlane’s numerous cavalrymen closed in for their latest kill. Meanwhile, the sky overhead appeared to forebode the 13 year-old prince’s prospects by becoming dark with black rain-clouds, suggesting not only an imminent thunderstorm but also that one of the awful legacies of the battle of Ankara would be the death of someone particularly important.

(Samarkand, Transoxiana [in modern Uzbekistan], 42½ years later, Winter 1444)

The 67 year-old man, evidence of whose immense youthful beauty was still discernible amidst his ageing features, was again inscribing on parchment placed on his desk. A very pretty 10 year-old boy, with brown hair and eyes, then quietly entered the palatial room and deftly crept from behind towards the busily occupied elderly writer.

The young visitor very carefully and silently approached the old man and then gently placed his right hand on the 67 year-old’s left shoulder. Despite the gentleness of his touch and the fact that he had never yet managed to surprise the writer in similar circumstances, the 10 year-old intruder still harboured ambitions that the sexagenarian would jump in surprise.

The young visitor believed that the writer could not possibly have detected by normal human means his extremely furtive approach. However, the old man simply carried on working, reacting to the touch only by whispering, without looking to see who had arrived, "Hello, Little Arman!"

"Damn! Despite my best efforts," Little Arman announced in response, with clear exasperation evident in his voice, "you still sensed me coming. How do you that, Uncle?" The 10 year-old had asked the same question many times previously and had always received the same answer. However, as he liked the reply, he never tired of enquiring, just as his father and grandfather had also both done when younger.

Little Arman was rewarded for the question by a turn of his honorary great uncle’s head and the appearance, sparkling in the sunlight streaming in from a nearby window, of still peerlessly sensual, shining blue eyes. The elderly man’s refined face then exhibited one of his famous, completely disarming smiles.

"As usual in such circumstances, Little Arman," Vissarion declared, patiently happy to satisfy the boy’s addiction, as he had done many times previously with both him and the child’s father and grandfather, "I didn’t detect your approach with any of my normal senses. Something else deep inside instead happily told me that you were close!"

"What do you think causes such feelings?" Little Arman yet again asked, to receive his usual delicious reward. Vissarion’s disarming smile grew broader, before he obliged the boy by responding with one word, namely "Love!"

Little Arman’s grip on his beloved ‘Great Uncle’ Vissarion’s shoulder immediately became tighter on hearing this word, and dampness invaded his young sensuous brown eyes. The boy therefore decided to move quickly onto a different subject before he became too embarrassingly emotional.

"What are you doing?" Little Arman enquired. "I’ve been writing the formal invitations for February’s 40^th anniversary event but I’ve now moved on to updating my master’s biography in case any of the guests would like to read it," Vissarion replied, referring to just one of the very important legacies he would leave to the world. The elderly Georgian eunuch still called Tamerlane ‘master’ despite the fact that he had, for many years since the conqueror’s death, very loyally and efficiently served two other highly important men, as well as helping others of significance to fulfil their destinies.

"The ink’s still wet on my recent writings," Vissarion added, "so I beg you not to touch them yet. Instead, if you want to read something, my older work is over there!" The elderly Georgian was referring to a large pile of scrolls situated on a nearby tabletop.

Little Arman possessed a natural intellect as excellent as that of his father and grandfather. He therefore appreciated that, after in his eagerness arriving earlier then scheduled to hear one of Vissarion’s famous stories, the elderly Georgian was diplomatically hinting that he would appreciate being left to continue his current work for a while longer before finishing for the day. The boy consequently responded "I’ll happily read some of your older scrolls, Uncle, whilst I wait for you to finish!"

"Please do so then, my dear boy," the still smiling Vissarion politely replied, before turning his noble head back to his current work. Little Arman, who was already proficiently literate, then picked up at random one of the many scrolls on the nearby table.

After unfolding the parchment, Little Arman began to recognise that the record, inscribed years previously in Vissarion’s neat handwriting, referred to Tamerlane’s great victory at Ankara, plus the aftermath.

(Ankara, Anatolia [in modern Turkey], 42½ years previously, July 1402)

No one realistically expected 13 year-old Mehmet, now protected by little more than a similarly aged servant armed only with a knife and two slightly older Janissary cadets, to resist his fate for long, not even the boy himself. However, no one also anticipated the sudden arrival of a golden angel.

Mehmet was again surprised by the sudden withdrawal to a respectful distance of Tamerlane’s warriors, in response to the loud shouted orders of the returning officer in his mid-20s, who had previously invited the prince to surrender. However, on this occasion, the 13 year-old Ottoman was more startled by the dazzling youth with the golden hair and sparkling blue eyes, who accompanied his darker featured comrade.

Mehmet could not recall seeing such a beautiful person of either gender before, even amongst his father’s harem. The startling sight was made even more awe-inspiring by a narrow shaft of sunlight protruding downwards from the ominous black clouds above, which miraculously solely illuminated the gorgeous youth.

"Is this an angel come to take us to heaven?" Vladimir, equally smitten by the marvellous sight, asked of Mehmet.

Accepting the existence of God’s Angels is one of the six key tenets of Islamic belief. The others are belief in Allah Himself, His Other Messengers, His Books, His control over mortal predestination and the ‘Last Day’.

Such a common attitude is exemplified by what was supposedly suggested by Muslim women about the Islamic Prophet Yoosuf. The latter reported in his own memoirs in the third person [12: 31] "When they saw him, they did extol him and….said: ‘Allah preserve us! No mortal is this! This is none other than a noble angel!’"

Consequently, Vladimir, born a Christian but reared in the Islamic faith, was now only following common Muslim practice when he saw the beautiful messenger. However, before Mehmet could answer his Slav servant’s question, the divine vision spoke.

"Majesty," advised Vissarion, "I have been sent by Tamerlane himself to accept your surrender." However, as soon as the young Ottoman prince had recovered from his shock at perceiving that the speaker was mortal, the sublime Georgian then received the same brave refusal that Arman had obtained previously from the courageous Mehmet.

Vissarion, however, had come armed with a weapon to tackle the prince’s attitude that was far more powerful than any of those wielded by Tamerlane’s redoubtable soldiers. The Georgian’s personal arsenal included important knowledge.

"Majesty," Vissarion, who was now 25 years of age but still retained the resplendent looks of a truly angelic youth, an attribute that could also be applied to his character, answered, "your father, Bayezid, brother, Musa, and the Sultana Olivera have all been captured alive." There was then a relative silence in the immediate vicinity, as Mehmet absorbed this appalling news. The local quietude was only disturbed by the sounds of continued fighting elsewhere on the bloody battlefield, plus that of distant thunder, which the prince now thought must truly signal the demise of his imperial house, the Ottomans.

Mehmet finally replied by accusing the human angel of lying, even though somehow he perceptively knew that the beautiful being was speaking the truth. The brave prince then defiantly added "Anyway, I do not propose to let myself be captured. I fight to the death!" However, Vissarion had anticipated such a courageous response and had already formulated his reply.

"With all due respect, Majesty," Vissarion shouted, "the Sultan and Sultana, in the shame of their capture, will need comforting. Are you so selfish that you put your own personal honour and pride above the interests of your father and his wife in their hour of need? Your place is now with them, not needlessly dying here!"

"But Tamerlane will kill us all anyway," Mehmet retorted, not unreasonably given the conqueror’s dreadful reputation, "whilst annexing our Empire." However, Vissarion immediately refuted this charge. "My master, Majesty, has no intention of taking any such action," the Georgian answered truthfully, "but rather intends to treat your captured family well and eventually establish an honourable and lasting peace with your imperial house, as well as with other local nobles."

Vissarion knew Tamerlane’s intent because, in anticipation of victory at Ankara, the Georgian had actually already formulated the future policy that his master had agreed to adopt in respect of the Ottomans and their domains. Subsequent legends that the conqueror had caged the captive Bayezid I and forced the Sultana Olivera to serve her captor naked at the dinner table in front of her husband were nothing but malicious false fables.

It is conceivable that Tamerlane might previously, when younger, have rejoiced in his Ottoman opponent’s capture and humiliation. He might even have enjoyed caging such a prominent prisoner and compounding his misery by insisting that his most beautiful wife should serve him naked at dinner in front of her husband. However, the conqueror was approaching his 67th year and his attitude to such matters was currently strongly affected by feelings of mortality. He now wished to leave behind as decent a reputation as possible as a legacy to posterity, as well as to ease his passage to paradise. He knew that treating fellow Muslim rulers disgracefully might rebound on his posthumous standing in the Islamic world and be insulting to Allah.

Perhaps even more importantly for Tamerlane, there was also the wise and considerate Vissarion to consider and placate. His beloved Georgian now wielded an inescapably immense moderating influence on his master’s actions and the eunuch would have deeply disapproved of the infliction of degrading treatment on the vanquished Ottomans.

"Anyway, Majesty," Vissarion commented to Mehmet, "if Tamerlane wanted to kill you, he would do so now and not bother to despatch me to parley with you about your surrender. I’ve been sent because he recognises that the Ottoman house, including your father and yourself, will, despite today’s defeat, still have a major role to play in ruling this part of the world. My master has no local territorial ambitions, just a desire for peace on his western borders whilst he fights infidels in the east." The Georgian was, of course, referring to the conqueror’s ambitions to attack China.

Mehmet was not entirely convinced by all of the human angel’s arguments. However, one, which suggested that he had a duty to be at the side of the captured Sultan and Sultana at this time of peril for his family, resonated within his young soul. The young prince realised the truthfulness of this assertion and so his resolve to fight to the death now shattered, as was exemplified by his next declaration.

"I refuse to surrender my arms or banner!" Mehmet declared, whilst indicating that he was now otherwise prepared to give himself up. "You do not need to, Majesty," Vissarion replied, "for all I ask is that you and your brave entourage sheath your weapons and come with me to enjoy the hospitality of my master’s encampment. There, you’ll also be reunited with the Sultan and Sultana and your brother, Musa, at the earliest opportunity."

Shortly afterwards, Tamerlane, who was still watching the scene from the nearby incline, saw four boys, one of whom was still proudly bearing his prince’s banner, being escorted north towards the conqueror’s base-camp. He smiled broadly and, turning to some of his generals, asked, with clear happiness in his voice and whilst referring to his beloved Vissarion, "Is there a more skilful diplomat in this world than that beautiful young man?"

If the generals concerned had disagreed with the sentiment behind Tamerlane’s rhetorical question, none, of course, would dare to say so. However, as it happens, even the most jealous amongst them could not deny the inherent veracity of the suggestion, for Vissarion had on many other occasions already demonstrated his skilled wisdom in diplomacy and other spheres of high politics.

As a result of Vissarion’s newest diplomatic success, the Georgian would forever be considered an angel of salvation by a certain quartet of boys. His latest achievement also undoubtedly changed history.

(Samarkand, Transoxiana [in modern Uzbekistan], 42½ years later, Winter 1444)

Vissarion laid his latest writing to one side to enable the ink to dry, indicating that his principal work for the day had concluded. However, Little Arman, sitting crosslegged on the richly carpeted floor nearby, was too intrigued by what he was reading to do the same with his own scroll. The pretty boy therefore continued to read, impervious to the fact that his beloved ‘Great Uncle’ was now ready to relate one of his famous tales to him.

Little Arman now simply had to learn what had happened to Mehmet and the other Ottomans after the battle of Ankara. The smiling Vissarion was content to wait for the lovely boy to find out, as well as to learn a lot of other relatively recent history.

(Outside Ankara, Ottoman Empire [in modern Turkey], 42½ years previously, July 1402)

Vladimir, Kiril, Zoran and their young master and fellow captive, Prince Mehmet, were personally escorted by the blonde, blue-eyed ‘angel’, assisted by some of Arman’s men, to Tamerlane’s huge and very busy base-camp. Here, close to the dammed River Cubukcay, the quartet of young prisoners was afforded a large and comfortable but heavily guarded tent.

As promised, none of the boy captives had been disarmed and Mehmet’s banner, held proudly by Vladimir, had also not been taken away. The standard was instead planted in the ground next to their new temporary canvas home.

"Where’s my father," Mehmet had dutifully asked of Vissarion immediately after arrival in the encampment, "as I must see him? As you’ve suggested, he’ll need my comfort at this time."

"I’m sure he does, Majesty," Vissarion answered without sarcasm, "and I’ll arrange for you to see him as soon as possible. However, although I assure you that my news of his capture is true, I’m not certain, amidst the confusion of battle, where he is currently being held."

"I’ll try to find out where he is, Majesty," Vissarion continued, "but your reunion with your father might need to wait until the current battle is completely over, as there’s presently much chaos and still some danger. Please be patient and I’ll take you to him as soon as I can."

Mehmet was unaccustomed to such delays in meeting his requests. However, there was something in the deportment of the blonde ‘angel’ that encouraged the young Ottoman to bite his lip and obey the suggestion to be patient and wait.

After all, the beautiful and pleasant captor, quite reasonably from his perspective, could not realistically be expected to comply with Mehmet’s demands if they endangered the security of the important boy captive. The prince incorrectly believed that the dreaded Tamerlane would surely have the wondrous ‘angel’ horribly executed if, amidst all of the battlefield confusion, he permitted a situation to arise whereby the immensely significant Ottoman prisoners were harmed or contrived escape.

Having reached agreement with his important boy captive, Vissarion then departed from the tent to rejoin his master, who was continuing to oversee the successful conclusion of the battle. Meanwhile, a deeply disconsolate Mehmet turned to Vladimir, Kiril and Zoran and asked "What do you think will happen now? Can the blonde youth’s word that Tamerlane will not harm the Sultan, the Sultana, my brother and ourselves really be trusted?"

Given Tamerlane’s appalling reputation for atrocities, none of Mehmet’s friends actually believed that the dreaded conqueror could possibly be so compassionate. However, they were currently too concerned for their prince’s mental and physical welfare to confess to this conviction.

(Outside Ankara, Ottoman Empire [in modern Turkey], next day)

Another Timurid captive at Ankara was 22 year-old Johann Schiltberger. The young Bavarian had been born of a noble family at Hollern near Lohof, which was halfway between Munich and Freising.

At just 14 years of age, Johann had joined the entourage of the local knight, Lienhart Richartinger, as a baggage attendant and went off on Crusade with him to fight the Turks before being captured by them at the battle of Nicopolis. Now, after the Ottoman defeat at Ankara, the handsome young Bavarian was in the hands of the forces of the dreaded Tamerlane.

Johann stood out from the other Ottoman captives because of his fair, blonde, blue-eyed features, which caused Tamerlane himself to notice him when the dreaded conqueror inspected the large number of prisoners. These pleasant physical attributes now caused the young Bavarian to embark upon a remarkable career of service, which was to involve much travelling.

As was evidenced by the existence of his famous boys, Tamerlane liked handsome young males in his intimate service. Given Johann Schiltberger’s early occupational background, the conqueror therefore enlisted the Bavarian as one of the servants responsible for his personal baggage, including the erection of his huge tent whenever his army encamped.

Johann Schiltberger was also to provide other erection services for his new master. As he had demonstrated when in the service of the Ottomans and would exhibit elsewhere, the young Bavarian was skilled in acclimatising to whatever befell him in life and he therefore quickly adapted to being a menial member of Tamerlane’s wider entourage. The 22 year-old was, of course, stimulated into such speedy, efficient absorption of his latest circumstances by realisation of what the alternative would comprise, which would undoubtedly entail the loss of his very handsome head.

As Johann Schiltberger had additionally demonstrated in Bursa, he was not averse to using his obvious physical allures to better his life. The young Bavarian was consequently quite happy to provide Tamerlane, whom he could tell was attracted to him, with occasional sexual relief, usually by use of his well-practised lips and tongue.

Johann Schiltberger had even taken the lead by initially seducing Tamerlane, whom he had one day caught alone, glancing at him lecherously. The young Bavarian had then possessed the confident bravado to approach the dreaded conqueror to advise him "All you have to do, Lord, is command me and I’m yours!"

The lustful Tamerlane had required no second invitation and he quickly retired somewhere quiet with his handsome Bavarian baggage handler, who was soon on his knees sucking his master’s hard cock for the first but certainly not last time. Johann Schiltberger was, as always, motivated by anticipating rewards for such additional duties and, as previously in Bursa, his expectations were not great, usually consisting of hoping for more favoured treatment, such as a lighter workload and better food. The worldly conqueror, who fully recognised the reasons behind his new servant’s willingness to perform certain extra tasks, did not disappoint him.

Although Johann was a lot older than Tamerlane’s normal previous liking for pretty boys, the ageing conqueror’s tastes had somewhat broadened of late, in line with the gradual ageing of his current cluster of catamites. Accordingly, he delighted in being the recipient of occasional fellatio from such a handsome young man, who was not dissimilar to Vissarion in appearance.

The 66 year-old Tamerlane could accommodate Johann within his sexual schedule because of alternative demands on the time of his other boys. Vissarion had many official duties to perform, as well as continuing his nightly storytelling to the now 8 year-old Ulugbeg, who had accompanied his father and grandfather on campaign. Meanwhile, Nicolai now spent more time with the still hostage Ahmed and Krishnan than he did with his master. Rezan and Haluk had also become the most intimate of friends, a situation that the considerate conqueror did not seek to disturb too often, whilst the sadly nullified Rahu had always been more a highly conscientious watchful young guard than bed-companion.

Consequently, Johann Schiltberger became an accepted member of his new master’s wider personal entourage, with the services he rendered extending to those of a sexual kind. However, the young Bavarian never became so trusted and intimate that he was permitted to live in the conqueror’s tent. He therefore could not be truly regarded as being one of Tamerlane’s boys.

(Inside Ankara, Ottoman Empire [in modern Turkey], 1 week later)

The captured members of the Ottoman imperial family, comprising Bayezid I, the Sultana Olivera and Princes Musa and Mehmet, were eventually re-housed in heavily guarded luxurious confinement inside Ankara. The city had quickly capitulated to the victorious Tamerlane after the outcome of the battle on the adjacent plain had become known.

The opening of Ankara’s gates was negotiated by the wily Vissarion, who had again used the proverbial stick and carrot in the diplomatic interchanges. He was assisted by the fact that the city’s leaders knew that the siege equipment and expertise of the dreaded Tamerlane’s formidable forces would not now take long to launch a successful assault. They therefore believed that it might be unwise to continue to test the conqueror’s patience much longer.

Vissarion had played on these rightful fears, whilst offering relatively generous surrender terms, to obtain Ankara’s speedy capitulation. In return for Tamerlane’s forces refraining from looting and pillaging, the agreement required the city to provide hefty tribute and copious hospitality, including accommodation appropriate to their status for the captured Ottomans.

By now, Mehmet had been reunited with his father. However, the reunion was short, as Bayezid I was too depressed by the disgraceful shame of his defeat and capture alive to spend much time with his family. The Sultan just wanted to suffer his deep melancholy alone, with even Olivera being granted little time in her husband’s presence.

Bayezid I’s depression had been compounded by a short meeting he had with the victorious Tamerlane, despite the fact that the latter acted without any cruelty, haughtiness or gloating. The conqueror was instead rather civil and magnanimous. However, it was the message he conveyed that distressed his most important prisoner.

Tamerlane truthfully informed Bayezid I that he had no ambitions of trying to hold onto conquered Ottoman lands. This declaration resulted from Vissarion’s advice that any attempts to retain such territories might dangerously over-stretch Timurid resources, especially if his master retained ambitions of attacking China. However, the Sultan’s sudden hopes that a return to the previous status quo might instead be permitted were quickly dashed.

"I cannot allow you to have your Empire back intact," Tamerlane had advised Bayezid I in the only meeting that ever occurred between the pair, "in case, regardless of any pledges you might now give to the contrary, you return to causing me trouble on my western borders." The conqueror, in line with Vissarion’s sage counsel, believed that he could not risk a restored Ottoman ruler reneging on a peace agreement and seeking revenge instead for the humiliating defeat at Ankara.

"I therefore propose to divide your Empire up between yourself, your sons and some of the local princely families from whom the Ottomans originally acquired lands," Tamerlane continued, outlining the policy actually formulated by his beloved Vissarion. Bayezid I was politically perceptive enough immediately to realise the clever reasoning behind such proposals.

The Sultan’s ambitious sons and the other reinstated local rulers would undoubtedly be unwilling to give up their fiefdoms once Tamerlane had withdrawn. There would therefore be little chance of a subsequent voluntary reunification of the original Ottoman Empire.

There would undoubtedly also be friction between the new rulers, as they manoeuvred for more land and power. Consequently, they would be too occupied in regional squabbles to be a major threat again to Tamerlane, just as the shrewd Vissarion had surmised. The proposals additionally provided useful religious propaganda to improve the conqueror’s reputation amongst fellow Muslims because, by returning some territories to the previous ruling families, they presented him as playing the role of regional Islamic legitimist.

In view of his current role, it is perhaps ironic that Vissarion was, along with another former enemy of the Ottomans, later to play a significant part in ensuring that his own policy for the region was eventually reversed. Such a volte-face by the Georgian, which stemmed from a new close friendship, was to represent another of his key legacies because it was to have considerable repercussions for subsequent history.

(Outside Ankara, Ottoman Empire [in modern Turkey], shortly afterwards)

After visiting Bayezid I inside Ankara, Tamerlane returned to his huge tent, located within his vast military encampment outside the city. Vissarion had accompanied the conqueror to the fateful meeting and still remained at his master’s side, although both were now naked and situated on top of the famous bearskin on their exceptionally large bed.

As Vissarion teasingly gently stroked Tamerlane’s rampant cock, between providing the rigid member with occasional oral titillation, he advised his master "I could tell, Lord, that you fancied the younger prince and his three brave servants!" The Georgian was referring to the fact that, in addition to visiting Bayezid I, the conqueror had politely paid his respects to the other important Ottoman captives, including Mehmet, who was, of course, attended by Vladimir, Kiril and Zoran.

"Yes," Tamerlane replied, whilst displaying a broad grin, which was not just associated with the pleasant manual and oral attention Vissarion was providing to his needy cock. The conqueror then added, with deliberate falsehood, "It’s therefore personally distressing that you’ve persuaded me not to rape and pillage after my latest victory!"

Tamerlane was rewarded for his fib by the sight of Vissarion’s peerless blue eyes happily peering at him above one of his favourite boy’s completely disarming smiles. "I’ll therefore have to compensate you, Lord, for your forbearance," the Georgian eunuch then announced, before affording his master’s cock prolonged and ultimately productive oral attention, whilst the conqueror gently caressed the long silky blonde hair on the gorgeous head providing such immense pleasure.

(Outside Ankara, Ottoman Empire [in modern Turkey], 1 week later)

For the first time since his capture, Mehmet was laughing. The pretty 13 year-old prince, along with the similarly aged Vladimir and the slightly older Kiril and Zoran, was also naked, as were 25 year-old Vissarion, 21 year-old Nicolai, 20 year-old Haluk, 19 year-old Rezan and the two 15 year-olds, Ahmed and Krishnan.

The five eunuchs amongst this youthful and energetic group were, in such company, completely unconcerned about displaying the gelded nature of their sexual organs. After all, the other, genitally whole quintet of pretty boys, in the form of Mehmet, Kiril, Zoran, Rezan and Ahmed, were now quite accustomed to such sights.

Mehmet, Kiril and Zoran had shared their burgeoning sex lives with each other, as well as with the castrated Vladimir. Rezan had frequently experienced the favours of Tamerlane’s eunuchs, whilst Ahmed had Krishnan and now Nicolai often in his bed. The ten were therefore cooling off on this very hot summer day, by swimming in a lake temporarily created by the damming of the River Cubukcay, without any regard whatsoever about who possessed balls and vice-versa.

There was something special about Mehmet that had encouraged Vissarion to take particular interest in the captive boy’s welfare. Since the conclusion of the battle of Ankara, where the Ottoman prince had demonstrated much bravery, the Georgian had therefore regularly visited the young prisoner.

At first, such visits were cordial but strained. After all, Vissarion and Mehmet represented different sides of an argument, as well as respectively gaoler and prisoner. However, the Georgian’s personality proved as disarmingly sparkling as his gorgeous blue eyes and smile and soon the emotional barriers to burgeoning friendship were being removed. This development was to extend to Vladimir, Kiril and Zoran and was also to prove fateful.

Despite the increasingly good welcome his visits gained from Mehmet, Vladimir, Kiril and Zoran, Vissarion had recognised that the Ottoman prince was understandably becoming very morose within the confines of his palatial prison inside Ankara. The 25 year-old had consequently on this day secured Tamerlane’s permission to let the boy and his personal entourage ride in the surrounding countryside, accompanied by the Georgian and some of his own friends, Nicolai, Haluk, Rezan, Ahmed and Krishnan, who were not currently engaged on duties elsewhere.

Vissarion, who was a good judge of character, naturally secured Mehmet’s word of honour that he would not try to escape. The Georgian correctly assumed that this particular Ottoman prince, unlike Musa whom he did not trust, would not disgrace himself by breaking his oath. As for Vladimir, Kiril and Zoran, it really did not matter whether such currently relatively inconsequential boys did flee, although the 25 year-old eunuch somehow rightly appreciated that they were too loyal to their young master to make any such attempt.

The horseback ride on the arid Cubukcay plain, under the unrelentingly hot overhead summer sun, readily made the appearance of the temporary lake, located in a quiet, secluded setting, a very inviting prospect for ten sweaty young males. Even the two young princes in the party, Mehmet and Ahmed, did not demur from accepting Vissarion’s invitation to go swimming, happily stripping off their clothes to do so, and the lengthy joy and laughter filled event represented the culminating change in the relationships between them all.

Whilst some of the ten entered the refreshingly cool water already friends and even lovers, others were basically strangers. However, when lovely, glistening naked bodies subsequently briefly sunbathed to recover some energy and to dry their damp young skin in order to be able to redress after their fun, the situation had become different.

None were now strangers but instead all were friends. This happy situation would later fatefully become closer and prove to be lifelong, a circumstance that would eventually extend to the currently missing 25 year-old Arman and the two 19 year-olds, Teimuraz and Rahu, who were presently engaged elsewhere, performing duties for Tamerlane.

(Trebizond, Anatolia [modern Trabzon in Turkey], same time)

The great trading centre of Trebizond, on the southeastern shore of the Black Sea, was the capital of a small Greek empire, founded by Byzantines, led by Alexius Comnenus, who had been expelled from Constantinople by the Great Crusade of 1204. The city’s importance was due to its location, which was where one of the chief trade routes to Europe from Persia, Central Asia and China descended to the sea.

Trebizond’s relative safety during such bellicose times was assisted by its situation, as a barrier of rugged mountains separated the city and its narrow hinterland from the rest of Anatolia. The local watershed was so complete that no rivers passed inland beyond these ranges and there were few easy routes from the coast to the interior of Asia Minor.

Local geographical security was also increased by the fact that Trebizond was located on a narrow sloping tableland, or ‘trapezus’ in Greek, from which word the city’s name derived. Protective steep, rocky valley precipices ran to the sea on the east and west sides of the metropolis.

Massive walls edged these cliffs and the northern seafront, whilst at a southern high point of the tableland on which medieval Trebizond stood, a castle supported the defences. Further up, at the peak where a neck of land stretched between the two valleys, there was an additional formidable keep, supported by other satellite towers beyond the bridged ravines.

Trebizond was also relatively fortunate with the local climate. Conditions were generally temperate, albeit often humid, unlike that of the inland regions, which were exposed to great extremes of summer heat and winter cold.

The caravans to the east began their long journeys from the easterly harbour, where at certain times of the year long trains of mules and camels could be seen, as wheeled vehicles could not traverse the surrounding mountains. The route followed by these slow convoys invariably headed first for the inland city of Erzerum, from where wagons could then be used.

By 1402, Trebizond’s awkward location and formidable defences had enabled the city to defy all enemies and remain independent for almost two centuries. Even Tamerlane had decided to leave the place alone in return for some tribute.

Trebizond’s happy situation would continue for another 59 years until the forces of the grandson of a major character in this saga finally captured the city and absorbed it within his own growing empire. He was aided by the rather cowardly early surrender of the last ruler, Emperor David.

Trebizond’s imperial family had earlier assisted the survival of their fiefdom in several wise ways. For example, they never became too ambitious about increasing the size of their state beyond its natural borders and they tried to remain on friendly terms with neighbours. The latter objective was aided by their famed familial physical beauty, which made their princesses much prized, enabling them to use such pleasant attributes to forge important marital alliances with other regional rulers.

The ruling family lived amidst much luxury and elaborate ceremonial in a palace that was renowned for its magnificence, as well as for being a hotbed of intrigue and immorality. They were also patrons of art, architecture and learning, thereby attracting to Trebizond many people eminent in these fields. Consequently, many magnificent paintings, frescoes and statues decorated both their residences and their city’s public amenities, whilst the imperial library was full of valuable manuscripts and the whole metropolis was adorned with large numbers of splendid buildings and open spaces. Writers of the time speak with enthusiasm of lofty towers, attractive churches and monasteries and, most especially, the copious verdant gardens, orchards and olive groves.

Amongst the commentators who was to put his plentiful praise of medieval Trebizond into writing, as one of own his legacies to posterity, was Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo. The Spaniard was presently disembarking from his galley onto the quayside of the city’s harbour.

Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo had wisely decided not to land elsewhere in currently war-torn Anatolia in his effort to visit Tamerlane’s court as ambassador for King Henry III of Castile. He had instead encouraged the captain of his galley to sail from the Aegean, through the Dardanelles, Sea of Marmara and Bosporus, briefly visiting Constantinople as he did so. The vessel then entered the Black Sea and proceeded along the northern coast of Asia Minor to the peaceful enclave of Trebizond.

Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo intended to stay in Trebizond until he deemed it safe to travel beyond its borders, when he proposed to join one of the caravans heading east. The city was a logical choice for such sanctuary, and not just because it currently enjoyed peace, whilst many locations elsewhere in Anatolia suffered grievous strife, or was the terminus of an important trading route. The metropolis also had many links with the Spaniard’s homeland. This situation had origins in the fact that some Iberian mercenaries had helped the ruling family to capture the place and had subsequently settled locally, providing the area with a significant Hispanic minority.

Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo conjectured that Tamerlane would eventually return to Samarkand after concluding his war against the Ottomans. The Castilian envoy had therefore sagely concluded that he should seek to present his ambassadorial credentials in the conqueror’s Transoxianan capital, for reasons of both diplomatic decorum and personal safety. He believed that the alternative, of trying to intercept the infamous man whilst he was campaigning with his army, was simply too dangerous.

Consequently, Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo settled in decent accommodation within Trebizond’s Iberian quarter to await the right time to venture east to exotic Samarkand.

(Aksehir, Anatolia [in modern Turkey], 8 months later, 8^th March 1403)

Vissarion was as good as his word in respect of the continued good treatment of Bayezid I, his youngest sons, Musa and Mehmet, and the Sultana Olivera. Nevertheless, the distinguished captives were occasionally required to undergo the inconvenience of a change in palatial accommodation whilst Tamerlane sought to consolidate his temporary supremacy over Anatolia.

For security reasons, Tamerlane did not want his important Ottoman prisoners detained too far from where his main army was located. Such an unwise situation might have stimulated an attempt by loyal Turks to rescue the captive members of the imperial family.

As Tamerlane succeeded in his aim of squashing local resistance in Anatolia, he forced Bayezid I’s older sons, Suleyman and Isa, to flee with the surviving remnants of the Turkish army from Asia over the Dardanelles onto the European mainland. Here, the escaped Ottoman princes began to conduct their affairs from their father’s capital, Edirne.

Amongst the challenges now faced by Suleyman and Isa was trying to retain the remaining Ottoman lands in the Balkans. The latter would undoubtedly suffer fresh attacks from European Christian princes determined to regain suzerainty over the territories.

As Tamerlane moved through Anatolia, strengthening his position on the peninsular, Bayezid I, Sultana Olivera and Princes Musa and Mehmet eventually ended up southwest of Ankara in Aksehir. This town was near a large lake of the same name.

Aksehir is still famous as being the town where the 13th century humorist, Nasrettin Hoca, lived most of his life and where his mausoleum stands. The local Ulu Mosque also dates from the same period.

Nasrettin Hoca was famous for his humorous stories, many of which involved his wife. For example, one tale related how he was once very ill, apparently close to death. His spouse was very concerned and came to his bed crying. When her poorly husband saw her sobbing, he said "Why are you crying my dear? Go put on your best clothes, do your hair nicely, put some colour on your face and smile!" "But why," the woman asked, "as I can’t do that, not while you’re in pain!" The man grinned back and advised "My dear, I want you to do it because, if Azrail [the Islamic Angel of Death] comes, he will see how beautiful you are in these fine clothes, looking like an angel or a peacock. He therefore might take you instead of me and leave me here!"

Like many similar towns of the era, Aksehir possessed protective walls and a castle. The latter was, by March 1403, 8 months after the battle of Ankara, the temporary home of Bayezid I, Sultana Olivera and Princes Musa and Mehmet. All of these important prisoners, contrary to later false rumours, remained very well treated.

Bayezid I, however, remained very depressed. The nature and humiliation of his defeat and capture by Tamerlane had shaken him to the core. He also despised the thought that the victor was going to dismantle his empire, which his Ottoman family, including himself, had literally fought so hard to garner.

Bayezid I’s depression was further exacerbated by recognition of how unpopular he had become amongst certain Islamic sections of Turkish society. He now appreciated that it had ironically been the ethnic Christian elements of his army, in the form of the Janissaries and his Serbian allies, who had fought most valiantly on his behalf at the battle of Ankara. Meanwhile, many of the pure Muslim contingents had either deserted to the enemy or been amongst the first to flee, even before the Sultan had given orders to Suleyman to conduct a tactical withdrawal.

Bayezid I now realised that such treacherous and cowardly actions were partly indicative of his unpopularity amongst certain Muslims. The Sultan was the product of a Christian mother and he also possessed wives of that faith, such as the Serb, Olivera, and some of the hostility exhibited towards him by fellow adherents of Islam was stimulated by his supposed favouring of such infidels.

Bayezid I’s alleged liking for Christians was said to be exemplified by the fact that three of his four sons possessed names with Biblical associations. Suleyman equated to Solomon, Isa to Jesus and Musa to Moses. The fact that many holders of key posts in the Sultan’s court, wider bureaucracy and military were, like the Janissaries, of infidel birth also caused much resentment amongst the Islamic hierarchy.

Many of the Muslim upper classes believed that Bayezid I allowed people with Christian origins far too much influence at the expense of true believers. The Islamic aristocracy, some of whose personal fiefdoms had been forcibly absorbed within the Ottoman Empire, also did not appreciate the Sultan’s autocratic style of government, which had at least substantially reduced if not eradicated their own power and influence.

By the time that Bayezid I was imprisoned in comfortable confinement in Aksehir’s castle, his mental distress was rightfully alarming his captive wife, Olivera, and youngest son, Mehmet, who both tried their best to console and comfort the Sultan. Their attempts to do so were notably not assisted by the much less concerned but highly ambitious Musa. Their efforts also ultimately and unfortunately proved in vain.

On the 8^th of March 1403, Olivera found her husband dead in bed. Bayezid I had taken some poison that had been secreted amongst his possessions.

Later, all sorts of untruthful rumours circulated about how Bayezid I had met his end. A few eventually consolidated into false legends that are believed by some people today. For example, there are tall stories about how the Sultan, imprisoned in his entirely fictitious cage and in despair at his humiliation and that of his captured family, especially Olivera, beat his head so savagely against the bars that he inflicted fatal wounds on himself. Other tales suggest that Tamerlane poisoned his rival ruler.

The truth is that, amidst his depression, Bayezid I killed himself, leaving behind his four sons to squabble over his severely damaged legacy. Few expected the Ottomans to be resurgent, at least in the foreseeable future. However, such pessimists presently did not realise how certain boyhood friendships would help to prove them wrong.

(Trebizond, Anatolia [modern Trabzon in Turkey], a few months later, Summer 1403)

Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo had enjoyed life in Trebizond for almost a year before deciding that it was now safe to attempt to fulfil his mission.

By now, Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo, who was of the Roman Catholic faith, had seen all of the varied sites of medieval Trebizond, including the Byzantine churches, such as that of the ‘Panaghia Chrysokephalos’, or ‘Virgin of the Golden Head’. The latter was a large but rather plain building, which is now a mosque.

Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo had also ventured to the other side of the eastern ravine that formed one of Trebizond’s natural defences, where the smaller but nicer church of St. Eugenius, the patron saint of the city, stood. This is also now a mosque.

About 2 miles to the west of Trebizond, Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo additionally visited the more important Haghia Sophia, which occupied a prominent position overlooking the sea. Although nowhere near as big or splendid as its namesake in Constantinople, this church was rather handsome, with ornamented porches and a tall campanile, the inner walls of which were partly covered with ornate religious frescoes. However, the most remarkable local sight that the Castilian emissary was to see during his stay was situated about 25 miles away from the city.

Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo went to look at the ancient monastery of Sumelas, which was located at a height of approximately 4000 feet above sea-level. Its position at the side of a rocky glen was most extraordinary, for the ecclesiastical retreat occupied a cavern in the middle of a 1000 feet-high perpendicular cliff.

The monastery’s white buildings offered a marked contrast to the brown rock that formed the backdrop. They were approached by a zigzag path at the side of the cliff, from which a flight of stone steps and a wooden staircase gave access to the monastic establishment. The valley below was filled with rich, colourful vegetation, the undergrowth being largely composed of azaleas and rhododendrons.

42 years prior to Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo’s visit, the Emperor Alexius Comnenus III of Trebizond had rebuilt the monastery and richly re-endowed its various buildings. His associated ‘Golden Bull’, which contained portraits of the monarch himself and his empress and thenceforth became the new foundation charter of the monastic retreat, is still preserved in modern times and is one of the finest specimens of such documents.

Later, the grandson of a certain principal character of this saga presented a ‘firman’ to the monastery. Despite his own Muslim faith, this edict accorded his protection to the Orthodox Christian monks after he had become master of their country.

Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo was finally setting off from Trebizond in a caravan that would ultimately take him to distant Samarkand, to where Tamerlane, after successfully subduing Anatolia, was also reported as now returning, albeit by a different route. The Castilian ambassador, of course, never knew that one of the people he would eventually meet in the conqueror’s capital could be linked to the future issuing of the firman to the monks of the Sumelas monastery.

The link was the fateful influence that the person concerned would have on the present and future career of a particular boy, who was the grandfather of the issuer of the firman.

(Manisa, Anatolia [in modern Turkey], same time)

Manisa in western Anatolia is situated on the northern slopes of a similarly named mountain, adjacent to the meandering River Gediz. The city, mountain and river were in ancient times respectively known as Magnesia ad Sipylum, Sipylus and Hermus and the locality had been the scene of a defeat by the Romans of the dangerous Seleucid king, Antiochus the Great, in 190 BC.

Due to Manisa’s location on the edge of a fertile plain, agriculture had traditionally been the main industry in the region. Magnesia ad Sipylum was also once famous for the cult of Cybele, whose priests castrated themselves. 12^th century BC rock carvings of the goddess are still visible in the area today.

Manisa had recently been taken by Tamerlane, whilst he had been on his way to capture, from the Christian Knights Hospitalers, the strategically important port of Smyrna [modern Izmir in Turkey]. The latter city was just to the southwest and was again the scene for later falsehoods about the conqueror’s local actions.

For example, a subsequent legend suggested that the population of Smyrna, terrified at what might be perpetrated on them and their city by Tamerlane, despatched their children to welcome the conqueror, who then had the youngsters massacred before embarking on a slaughter of the adults. Towers of skulls of the slain were then supposed to have been constructed.

Such a scenario might indeed have occurred if Vissarion’s own delectable skull had ended up, as originally destined 16 years previously, on a similar tower outside his own home city of Tiflis. However, such an unfortunate fate thankfully did not befall the beautiful young Georgian concerned, nor did it to most of the inevitably less well-endowed forms possessed by the people of Smyrna.

The city had resisted Tamerlane and, when its defences finally fell, many people were killed, as his forces vengefully poured into the metropolis to loot and plunder. Captured civic leaders, whose unwise policies had led to the disaster, were also later executed, whilst much of the surviving population was lucratively enslaved, as was usual in such circumstances in order to provide another lesson to counterparts elsewhere. However, Vissarion’s influence on the conqueror ensured that large-scale, brutally needless massacres did not occur. There was no slaughter of innocents offering welcome or erection of towers of skulls at Smyrna, except in the imaginations of later slanderers.

Meanwhile, Manisa, which had wisely surrendered to Tamerlane without a fight, was to experience much better fortune than Smyrna. The city was also hereon to be known as being an administrative training ground for Ottoman princes, many of whom would subsequently be appointed to govern the area.

This tradition began because the now 14 year-old Mehmet had been so appointed, albeit at Tamerlane’s, or perhaps more concisely at his new friend’s, Vissarion’s, behest as opposed to that of any Sultan. Meanwhile, Musa, as the slightly senior in age of the two captured sons of Bayezid I, was allowed to escort his late father’s body to Bursa, which was the traditional scene of entombment for senior Ottomans.

Musa subsequently moved on to his own allocated Anatolian fiefdom of Balikesir in western Anatolia. As part of his plan to split up the Ottoman Empire, Tamerlane, or again more succinctly, Vissarion, then negotiated the award of the Bursa region to Bayezid I’s second oldest son, Isa, whilst leaving the eldest, Suleyman, unmolested in his European refuge.

In order to foster diplomatic alliances, Ottoman princes usually wed several wives. For example, the Sultana Olivera had been the fifth spouse of Bayezid I.

The marital process normally began when the Ottoman princes were in their early teens, if not younger. Mehmet, despite his current sexual preferences for certain other boys in his closest entourage, was not expected to be an exception.

In fact, the history of the Ottomans is littered with examples of bisexual princes with many wives and children, whilst their private predilections were often reflected in harems containing beautiful boys as well as girls and women. The family was also not alone in the Islamic world of the past for exhibiting such tastes [as will eventually be demonstrated in some later historical stories by Pueros].

Given his current tastes, Mehmet was not looking forward to being married or having subsequently to try to consummate the union. Initial teasing from Vladimir, Kiril and Zoran did not at first help matters. However, in the absence in Edirne of his own mother, Bayezid I’s second wife, the Sultana Devlet, and having consoled each other over the Sultan’s suicide, the childless Olivera took the young prince under her own protective maternal wing. She diplomatically advised and instructed the 14 year-old in the duties of a husband, both in and out of bed, cleverly using his boy companions to convey the more sexually candid elements of such tutoring.

The happy result was a successful wedding night with 14 year-old Shehzade Kumru and a young prince who afterwards became confident enough to entertain his new young wife in bed regularly, whilst still frequently indulging in similar play with certain boys. Such a development meant that Mehmet now had boasting rights and could exact teasing revenge on his closest servants and friends, Vladimir, Kiril and Zoran, who were forced to remain chaste as far as the female form was concerned.

Vladimir was, of course, incapable of proper sex with a female because of his gelded state. Meanwhile, Kiril and Zoran were not allowed to dabble in such activities because of their Janissary status, which required members of the famed military order to remain celibate.

The apparent success of young Mehmet’s marriage quickly encouraged his entry into another similar union, although again primarily for reasons of diplomacy. The 14 year-old prince now needed as many regional allies as he could acquire, given that the four sons of Bayezid I had already begun feuding over their father’s territorial legacy.

The period during which there was no recognised Ottoman Sultan was to become known to posterity as the ‘Fetret’, or ‘Interregnum’, and it was Mehmet’s slightly older brother and former fellow captive of Tamerlane, the highly ambitious Musa, who first tried to break the impasse. From his own base in Balikesir, he now attacked Isa in Bursa.

Meanwhile, Mehmet was lined up to marry Emine, who was the daughter of the leader of the important Dulkadiroglu clan, based in southeast Anatolia. However, circumstances would soon prompt the young prince to move to the home city of his first wife, Shehzade Kumru.

Perhaps symbolically for what was later to happen, Shehzade Kumru’s home city of Amasya happened to be the capital of the ancient kings of Pontus.

(Great Palace, Constantinople [modern Istanbul in Turkey], same time)

13 year-old John was tearfully hugging an elder sister. The delightful young Byzantine prince’s tears were being shed for three main reasons.

Firstly, John strongly disapproved of the situation to which his sister was being despatched for reasons of state. Secondly, the young prince despaired that he was likely never to see the girl again. Thirdly, the beautiful boy was appalled that the man to whom she had been betrothed was now a potential dangerous enemy of his friend, Mehmet.

John’s sister was being sent to Edirne to marry Suleyman, eldest brother and prospective serious rival for the Ottoman succession of Mehmet, because his father, Manuel II Palaeologus, was cementing a strategic alliance with the new ruler of the late Bayezid I’s European domains. The Christian Emperor was receiving the province of Salonika, as well as an important new Muslim son-in-law, in return for his daughter and diplomatic and military friendship.

John recognised that Suleyman was only forming such alliances in order to strengthen his ambitions to eliminate his brothers so that he could then lay sole claim his father’s empire.

(Samarkand, Transoxiana, Timurid Empire [in modern Uzbekistan], over ½ year later, Spring 1404)

A long caravan journeying along the Silk Road from the east arrived in Samarkand. Most of the travellers were Chinese traders on their way west, although the most important of them comprised a senior diplomat and his servant for whom the Timurid capital represented their destination.

The long and bloody civil war in China, caused by Zhu Di’s attempts to usurp the Imperial throne from his nephew, had finally ended during the previous year. The Prince of Yan had succeeded in his aim of becoming the third Ming Emperor and he now wanted to stabilise his country, which meant that a priority was to try to ensure that the dreaded Tamerlane did not attack from the west.

Zhu Di, who had adopted the formal title of Yung-lo Emperor, therefore despatched his most capable adviser, 33 year-old Ma He, on an embassy to Tamerlane’s court in Samarkand in an effort to establish peaceful relations. The nullified eunuch appeared particularly qualified for the task not only because of his excellent diplomatic abilities but also because he shared the dreaded conqueror’s Islamic faith. The emissary, who had been given a prestigious new name by his master, was, of course, accompanied on his mission by his own, similarly emasculated loyal servant, 18 year-old Chi Li.

Unfortunately, Ma He, despite being a fellow Muslim, was to receive the same type of treatment from Tamerlane as suffered by previous Chinese Ming ambassadors. He and Chi Le were imprisoned without meeting the dreaded conqueror.

Tamerlane’s action was driven by a desire to display his disdain for the Mings, whom he considered had usurped the throne 36 years previously from the rightful Mongol Yuan dynasty, which had been established by Kublai Khan, the grandson of Genghis Khan, from whom the conqueror falsely claimed descent. He therefore considered himself to be a much more legitimate candidate to assume the Chinese imperial throne, especially as the first Emperor of the new imperial house, Zhu Yuanzhang, had emanated from lowly Han peasant stock and had become a Buddhist monk before turning into a rebellious army leader.

Now, as far as Tamerlane was concerned, another rebel of dubious background had seized the throne. This only encouraged him even more to want to emulate his illustrious alleged ancestor, Genghis Khan, by successfully attacking China. The ageing conqueror perceived that a victorious jihad against the Oriental infidels, who had displaced the rightful dynasty with whom he had claimed familial associations, would crown his career and ensure that Allah later granted him a copious welcome in paradise.

Ma He’s imprisonment demonstrated for all to see Tamerlane’s refusal to recognise the new Ming regime. The conqueror also now took positive action to fulfil his bellicose ambitions by formulating plans to invade China, which he proposed to launch at the start of the next year, despite Vissarion’s contrary advice.

Vissarion had never previously counselled against Tamerlane’s ambitions for conquest and glory, as he realised that such desires formed an important integral part of his master’s character. The Georgian correctly believed that to seek to deprive the man of such urges would also remove his ageing lover’s lust for life and he had no intention of being responsible for any such unfortunate development. However, he had hoped that, approaching 70 years of age, the conqueror might be less ambitious, as a successful invasion of China would surely be a lengthy process.

Vissarion was concerned for Tamerlane’s continued wellbeing, which he felt might be ill served by long and arduous campaigning against a clearly capable enemy such as Zhu Di. However, his master’s ambitions to emulate Genghis Khan as the glorious pinnacle of his career of conquest were too fervent to be denied. Consequently, the Georgian abandoned his contrary counsel and instead used his formidable intellectual skills to assist the preparation for war. He concentrated on logistical organisation, whilst his oldest and best friend, Arman, applied his ample military talents to devising the invasion strategy.

Such duties did not, however, prevent Vissarion from remembering the plight of the unfortunate incarcerated Ma He, for whose release he eventually began to beg his master. The Georgian successfully argued that the reason for the ambassador’s imprisonment had by now been fulfilled and therefore there was no longer any purpose in keeping the poor emissary in custody anymore.

The political point that Tamerlane was seeking to make by imprisoning Ma He had been fully recognised by all, undoubtedly not least by the emissary’s Ming master. The envoy, whose mission had proved a sad failure, should simply be allowed instead to return to China, unharmed apart from the hurt to his dignity and perhaps that ultimately to be suffered as a result of his own Emperor’s fury.

Vissarion subsequently appraised Ma He about the good news of his release by visiting the ambassador in his prison. The latter scene was actually not too unpleasant, as it consisted of decently appointed but closely guarded accommodation in an isolated wing of Tamerlane’s main palace in Samarkand.

Vissarion, now a 27 year-old, was accompanied by the interpreter who would be necessary to translate the conversation with the imprisoned ambassador. The discussion was subsequently opened by the Georgian, who first diplomatically apologised to Ma He for his detention, although in doing so he used the emissary’s new name of honour, granted by the Emperor Zhu Di for his valour at the battle of Zhenglunba during the recent Chinese civil war.

Vissarion politely declared "I’m deeply sorry that you found yourself temporarily imprisoned by my Lord, Ambassador Zheng He!"

(Great Palace, Constantinople, Byzantine Empire [modern Istanbul in Turkey], same time)

20 year-old Petŭr was finishing his dressing of his beloved beautiful Byzantine prince, John. The garb was very formal, as the now 14 year-old boy was due to attend yet another of the many ceremonies that intruded into the lives of the members of the imperial family.

As usual, John was complaining about the discomfort of his formal ceremonial attire. The young prince’s outer garments consisted of an ornate alb, which was a vestment extending to his feet, partly covered by another splendidly decorated sleeveless item without armholes that was a hybrid mix of stiff cope and long chasuble. Meanwhile, the golden hair on the boy’s sublime head was literally crowned by a richly bejewelled but heavy diadem, from which string rivières of diamonds and other precious stones dangled at the sides.

"Your clothing might be uncomfortable," Petŭr commented in response to John’s complaints, "but at least you won’t look as ridiculous as the Emperor at the forthcoming ceremony!" This remark caused his prince to recall, from similar Easter Sunday rituals in previous years, that his father would be appearing swathed in white bands, with his face painted a deathly pale and his holy person surrounded by people representing the twelve apostles. Such remembrance then resulted in the appearance of a broad grin on the immaculate boy’s face and the commencement of loud giggling, which the 20 year-old servant could not help but match in return.

In the Byzantine Empire, the Emperor, or ‘Basileus’, was considered Christ incarnate. Consequently, the current incumbent of the position, Manuel II Palaeologus, would on this Easter Sunday in the Orthodox calendar imminently be ceremonially reliving the Son of God’s resurrection. However, his delightful son did not consider the religious seriousness behind the occasion sufficient to deny him a little amusement at his father’s expense.

During the current outbreak of mutual hilarity, John’s giggling caused his lovely head and body to shake so much that his diadem fell off. Fortunately, despite sharing the amusement, Petŭr was sufficiently alert to catch the crown before it crashed onto the tiled floor, which undoubtedly prevented the priceless object from being damaged.

"Thank you for saving my crown," John then smilingly said to Petŭr. Neither boy, of course, knew at the time that the prince would one day have cause to repeat these same thanks to the same person, albeit in completely different and far more serious circumstances.

(Samarkand, Transoxiana, Timurid Empire [in modern Uzbekistan], same time)

Tamerlane’s attitude to the newly arrived ambassador from the King of Castile contrasted markedly with that afforded the emissary from the new Emperor of China. The conqueror welcomed Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo with copious warmth and hospitality, his temperament influenced strongly by the fact that the envoy had once rescued Nicolai from certain death amidst the forests of southern Rus.

Tamerlane and Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo were currently sharing a lavish banquet, originally attended also by all of the host’s present boys, plus one of the conqueror’s past catamites in the still very handsome shape of Arman. Sibur and 21 year-old Teimuraz, who had recently been promoted, entirely on merit, from groom to junior cavalry officer, naturally accompanied their Armenian friend and lover to the dinner.

Until the linguistically gifted Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo became conversant with the main Turkic dialect spoken at Tamerlane’s court, Nicolai acted as translator for the conversations with the Castilian emissary. As the young Muscovite had discovered in the forests of southern Rus, the envoy could speak his native Russian tongue rather well.

Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo was later to spend a couple of years at the Timurid court, becoming thoroughly acquainted with Tamerlane and his family and boys, as well as with many other people and places within the dreaded conqueror’s empire. One legacy of the ambassadorial stay was to be the written record of who and what the Castilian emissary encountered, which survives to this day.

Vissarion had eventually slipped away from the lavish banquet to meet the unfortunate Chinese ambassador. Whilst he subsequently concluded his conversation with the imprisoned Zheng He [alternatively spelt ‘Cheng Ho’], Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo, Nicolai and Teimuraz were recalling for the benefit of Tamerlane, in freer and more opulent surrounds, their joint adventure in southern Rus. The conqueror then again took the opportunity to thank the emissary for the salvation of his beloved young Muscovite, backing up his gratitude by presenting the Castilian envoy with a magnificent solid gold drinking vessel, made in the shallow but broad-brimmed Mongol style.

The day’s conversation eventually concluded with Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo’s description for the highly interested Tamerlane of recent naval expeditions launched by Iberian powers. These included the Castilian Atlantic voyages, of 1400 and 1402 respectively, to Morocco and the Canary Islands. However, neither envoy nor conqueror ever learnt about the six momentous voyages of discovery to be undertaken between 1405 and 1433 by a certain person, who happened to be temporarily imprisoned nearby.

Nevertheless, coincidentally as another legacy of his ambassadorial stay, Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo was to have his own major, albeit indirect, role to play in future naval expeditions of discovery. The emissary’s reports, which were presented on his return home to his King, Henry III of Castile, were to have a profound effect on the future of exploration because he described in his works the difficulties inherent in traversing the important Silk Road from Europe to China.

For example, in his report Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo declared "Now, from the city of Samarkand, it is six months’ march to the capital of China….and, of this six months’ journey, two are passed going across a desert country entirely uninhabited, except by nomad herdsmen." Such statements, along with others suggesting the immense size and wealth of Chinese cities, stimulated Iberian monarchs to commission voyages to find potentially highly lucrative alternative sea routes to the rich Orient.

The Portuguese prince, Henry the Navigator, who was the nephew of Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo’s King, later launched expeditions along the West African coast. Isabella I, Queen of Castile, who was Henry III’s granddaughter, and her husband, Ferdinand V of Aragon, subsequently sponsored Christopher Columbus, who was seeking a western sea route to China when he discovered the Americas.

As Tamerlane’s banquet concluded, the Chinese ambassador simultaneously prepared to depart from Samarkand at dawn with his young servant, Chi Le. However, Vissarion would undoubtedly have adopted an entirely different stance towards Zheng He’s release if he had been aware that his master’s oldest surviving son, Miranshah, had held a furtive meeting with the emissary, just before the envoy left the Timurid capital.

In the meeting, Miranshah and Zheng He had reached a secret agreement about certain future actions.

(Samarkand, Transoxiana, Timurid Empire [in modern Uzbekistan], a few months later, June 1404)

Zheng He and Chi Le had long since departed down the Silk Road to China by the time that Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo, despite being a Christian, was amongst the witnesses to the consecration of Samarkand’s newest and greatest mosque, plus some simultaneous weddings. Tamerlane had intended the holy building, which was still not completely finished, to be the biggest and most splendid of its kind in the Islamic world. The conqueror had also originally teased his Eldest Queen, or ‘Bibi Khanum’, Shadi Mulk Aka, by suggesting that he was having the edifice constructed in honour of his boys, although several of them were not of the Muslim faith.

In fact, Tamerlane never had any such intention. At the present ceremony, he instead honoured his formidable Eldest Queen by having the place named after her. Today, this superb legacy of the conqueror’s architectural tastes is still called the Bibi Khanum Mosque.

Much of the long-planned construction was eventually supported by loot brought back from Delhi in 1398. For example, almost a hundred plundered elephants helped to haul marble for the mosque back to Samarkand. Many capable architects and artisans, captured over the years amidst Tamerlane’s many conquests and despatched to help adorn his capital, were also involved in the mammoth project.

The result was a grandiose building occupying a rectangular courtyard, 130x102 metres in size. On the west towered the main mosque, whilst smaller versions graced the northern and southern sides, all three possessing resplendent azure domes. The spacious internal enclosure, with sheltered gallery, was covered with marble.

The entrance to the courtyard was designed as a high portal, flanked by two round minarets 50 metres high. The facade of the main mosque was also decorated with another majestic portico, or ‘iwan’, with another two lofty towers possessing projecting balconies for muezzins to proclaim the hours of prayer.

The outside walls of all of the buildings were richly adorned with multi-coloured glazed bricks, displaying religious quotations or simply forming whimsical geometrical ornamentation. The magnificent and rich internal decoration consisted of ornate patterns created from similarly lustrous mosaic, carved marble and gilt.

Tamerlane was today celebrating the great mosque’s consecration by also solemnising marriages of some male members of his family, all of whom were permitted by Islamic law to have several wives. Such multiple unions were frequently not love matches but were instead undertaken to cement diplomatic alliances, usually with other important Turcoman tribal clans. However, because of his tender age, newly 10 year-old Ulugbeg was amongst those now being wed for the first time and, of course, he would not yet be expected to consummate his new marital status for a while yet.

Besides Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo, amongst the other Christians watching the weddings inside the new mosque was Vissarion, to whom the understandably nervous Ulugbeg occasionally glanced for reassurance. The pretty boy was always rewarded in return by the sight of the beautiful Georgian’s completely disarming smile, which invariably managed to relax the 10 year-old.

Also proudly observing their 10 year-old son’s wedding were his parents, Prince Shahrukh and his principal wife, Gohar Shad. The latter was close, in terms of both current proximity and permanent relationship, to the redoubtable Bibi Khanum, from whose example she was to develop her own well-deserved reputation for formidableness over the years ahead.

Tamerlane’s desire to link the consecration of his great mosque with some family weddings was associated with his recently reinforced sense of mortality and consequent wish to expand, as his human legacy, the number of offspring possessing his direct bloodline. Not only was the conqueror ageing but also he had just been sadly reminded of the common nature of early death in this unhealthy era and how such tragedies could affect his personal lineage.

Tamerlane had recently sadly presided over the internment of his senior and second favourite grandson after Ulugbeg, Muhammad. The latter, who had been in his early 30s and was the offspring of the conqueror’s already deceased eldest son, Jahangir, had just died of natural causes.

Tamerlane’s senior grandson was now Khalil, who was in his early 20s and was the offspring of the conqueror’s eldest surviving son, 38 year-old Miranshah. The young man’s mother was Jahangir’s re-wed widow, Khanzada.

Muhammad had been interred in the also recently completed Gur-Emir, or ‘tomb of the ruler’, mausoleum in Samarkand. This fabulous octagonal structure was dominated by a peerless fluted azure dome, possessing 64 separate ribs.

The great mausoleum was also soon to be the eternal resting-place of someone much more important than Tamerlane’s grandson.

(Amasya, Anatolia [in modern Turkey], same time)

Under Olivera’s continued kind and expert guidance, Mehmet had also sexually entertained his second young wife well, so much so that Emine was soon sporting the obvious signs of pregnancy. However, given the nature of fighting currently prevalent in Anatolia, it was thought best if she did not serve her confinement in Manisa nor in her own clan’s southeastern border homeland, both of which were currently vulnerable to attack from various enemies.

Emine, accompanied by her husband, therefore went to give birth in the home of Mehmet’s other wife, Shehzade Kumru. The city of Amasya was considered safer for such a potentially very important event because of the protection afforded by the difficult local geography.

Amasya, birthplace of the ancient Greek geographer, Strabo, was located in a narrow cleft of the River Yesilirmak, which was known as the Iris when the Hellenes controlled the area. The city possessed a cliff-face citadel, which contained the local palace. Nearby were the impressive rock-face tombs of the Kings of Pontus. Mehmet’s first son, Murad, was therefore born and was to spend his early boyhood in the local palace in Amaysa. In subsequent years, whilst Shehzade Kumru would sadly remain childless, Emine would also produce with her husband another four boys, Mustafa, Ahmed, Yusuf and Mahmud, and two daughters, Fatma and Selcuk.

Mehmet, who was himself only 15 years old at the time, named his first son after his paternal grandfather. Murad was, of course, the most likely nominee to inherit his parent’s legacy but currently whatever this would be did not look too promising, as the feuding between the four male offspring of Bayezid I continued.

Musa had succeeded in displacing Isa from Bursa. The latter older brother therefore fled across the Dardanelles to seek an alliance with the eldest sibling, Suleyman, who controlled Ottoman Europe.

Suleyman, who was wily enough not to endanger himself, equipped Isa with a fresh army and returned him to Anatolia to retake Bursa. He intended treacherously to order his soldiers, upon whom his second brother now largely relied, to reward his sibling for success by having him murdered.

Suleyman would thereby gain Isa’s Anatolian domains with little risk to himself. However, his devious plans were thwarted when Bayezid I’s second son was unsuccessful in his efforts to recapture Bursa and was instead taken prisoner by Musa’s forces. The third sibling then had his captive older brother strangled with a bowstring.

To safeguard his own position against possible eventual counterattack from Suleyman, Musa now sought his own alliance with his youngest brother, Mehmet. Fearing for his own future and that of his family and supporters, the latter prince agreed to the association, despite his deep distaste for what had been perpetrated on Isa.

Mehmet and Musa were actually half brothers. The former was the son of Bayezid I’s second wife, Devlet, whilst the latter, like Suleyman and Isa, was the offspring of the late Sultan’s first spouse, Germivan.

Musa did not expect his alliance with Mehmet to last. His long-term hope was to use his half-brother to help him eliminate Suleyman, just as the latter had manipulated Isa in his efforts to gain supremacy over his other younger siblings.

After disposing of Suleyman, Musa proposed to turn treacherously on Mehmet in order to be paramount and succeed to Bayezid I’s empire.

(Amasya, Anatolia [in modern Turkey], a couple of months later, late Summer 1404)

Mehmet, currently in Amasya, was concerned about the activities of his older brother, Suleyman, whose armies had finally re-crossed to Anatolia from their secured European base, centred on Edirne, and had already caused Musa to flee.

All of the four sons of Bayezid I had received different degrees of civilian and military factional support, with the various adherents keen to see their own protégés succeed to a unified Ottoman throne. With certain notable exceptions, such as Vladimir, Kiril and Zoran, such people usually gave their allegiances not through friendship or selfless altruism and a desire to regain previous imperial glories. Their frequently changing loyalties instead generally arose from a need to see someone succeed who could represent their particular interests, which were often associated with selfish ambition and personal greed for position and wealth.

Nevertheless, even Mehmet needed the help of such supporters, simply in order to survive in these early years after his father’s death. The boy was originally not especially ambitious, other than in his wish to reinstate his father’s legacy. However, his attitude gradually changed, as he learnt more about his half-brothers. Encouraged by his own closest adherents, who included his wives and their families, as well as Olivera, Vladimir, Kiril and Zoran, he began to think more about advancing his own position. He was stimulated into doing so by finally correctly judging that he would be the best person to achieve his aim of restoring Ottoman pride.

At present, Suleyman had gained the upper hand because he ruled the richest part of Bayezid I’s empire, namely the European element. He was helped in maintaining his authority by support from two very important and influential officials from his father’s court, namely the senior Janissary Aga and the Grand Vizier, who respectively controlled much of the Ottoman bureaucracy and military.

The Grand Vizier, Ali Cenderli, also came from a family that had important commercial interests and was allied to several other similarly significant clans. The chief bureaucrat therefore additionally had great influence over the highest levels of the wealthy mercantile establishment.

As mentioned earlier, Suleyman had strengthened his position further by forging an alliance with the Byzantine ruler, Manuel II Palaeologus, surrendering Salonika and marrying one of the Emperor’s daughters in order to cement the relationship. He also accumulated other important allies, such as the current maritime power of Venice, which possessed significant influence throughout the Mediterranean and Black Seas. However, he did not have the benefit of the friendship of his young brother-in-law, Prince John, or of servants called Vladimir, Kiril and Zoran, or of someone named Vissarion.

Mehmet fatefully possessed such crucial friendships.

(Great Palace, Constantinople [modern Istanbul in Turkey], same time)

14 year-old John, with 20 year-old Petŭr at his side as always, furtively watched the scene as his father, resplendently attired in his full imperial regalia, concluded his formal reception of the Ottoman prince, Musa. The latter had fled to Constantinople to avoid undoubtedly fatal capture by his older brother, Suleyman.

Little would be said at the current ceremony, which was based on the Byzantine conviction that the Emperor, or ‘Basileus’, was the reincarnated Christ. The Muslim prince, Musa, was therefore being formerly introduced not only to the local ruler but also to the Christian Son of God, with whom he would have to conduct business at a subsequent banquet.

The current setting was in the Great Palace’s large octagonal audience chamber, which was capped by an immense cupola. An arch surmounted each wall so that the hall contained eight apses. Many chandeliers hung from the ceiling and there were a number of exotic carved gilt furnishings, including depictions of golden birds on trees, griffins and lions. However, the most magnificent sight was the place where Manuel II Palaeologus was sitting. The throne was located in a recess, reached by three porphyry steps, overhung by a purple canopy and veiled at the sides by similarly coloured curtains.

John waited in eager excitement to see the reaction on the important guest’s face when confronted with what would now happen. The beautiful 14 year-old was not to be disappointed in his quest for amusement.

Musa’s face exhibited great shock when he was almost deafened by a loud uproar. After Manuel II Palaeologus had gestured that the audience was over, machinery had been set in motion so that the beaks and mouths of the animal furnishings opened. The birds sang, the griffins whistled and the lions roared. The throne on which the Emperor still sat then began to rise into the air, in a symbolic re-enactment of Christ’s ascension to heaven.

An incredulous Musa soon found himself looking upwards to where Manuel II Palaeologus now gave the sign of the cross, indicating the end of the reception audience. The senior eunuch, who acted as master of ceremonies, then uttered the word "keleusate", meaning ‘if you please’, and helped the bemused Ottoman prince to walk backwards out of the chamber, with his arms crossed across his chest in appropriate reverence.

Musa would, of course, normally scorn adherence to such ritual. The Muslim prince not only considered himself to be superior to the Byzantine ruler, whose remaining domains were smaller in area even than those allocated to Bayezid I’s third son by Tamerlane, but also regarded his Islamic faith to be the only true religion. However, he presently felt obliged to disguise his real attitude and observe the ceremonial niceties, as he desperately needed the Emperor’s help.

Musa had not fled to Mehmet in Amasya, as he incorrectly distrusted his younger half-brother. In doing so, he viewed his current predicament only from his own perspective as, if the situation had been reversed, he would certainly have made use of the opportunity to eliminate his weakened rival. He anyway considered it likely that Suleyman would now go on to perpetrate the deed for him.

Giving Mehmet up as lost to the deadly might of Suleyman’s currently apparently irrepressible forces, Musa had fled to Constantinople. Before doing so, he had already sounded out the Emperor’s willingness to switch allegiances.

Despite being Suleyman’s father-in-law, Manuel II Palaeologus was indeed now prepared to swap his support in the war between the late Bayezid I’s squabbling sons. Such disloyal changes were commonplace in medieval times, and the Byzantine Empire had gained a reputation over the centuries for adopting devious strategies that often supported weak against strong rivals in order to try to maintain their division by preventing anyone from prevailing.

Manuel II Palaeologus had begun to fear the growing power of Suleyman and so supporting Musa had the benefit of hopefully keeping the Ottomans divided and busy fighting each other instead of turning their forces against Byzantium. However, the Emperor proffered no help to Mehmet, whom he too considered probably lost.

Manuel II Palaeologus’ attitude towards Mehmet was maintained despite some entreaties from John that the youngest of Bayezid I’s squabbling offspring should be supported too. The Emperor had been surprised that his own second son had not only taken an interest in such matters but also appeared to be concerned about the welfare of the Ottoman prince in Amasya.

Manuel II Palaeologus would, of course, have been even more surprised to discover that Mehmet had once briefly and bizarrely been John’s slave. However, the Byzantine Emperor’s second son still kept his secret about being an acquaintance of the youngest Ottoman prince.

(Amasya, Anatolia [in modern Turkey], a few weeks later)

Mehmet had just read the latest carefully worded letter sent by Petŭr to his younger brother Kiril, which also contained the usual coded message from young Prince John to his Ottoman equivalent. He then advised his entourage "Despite the best efforts of our friends in Constantinople, I never expected Byzantine assistance. I’m sure that Manuel II Palaeologus is too astute to help what he considers to be a lost cause. We’ll therefore just have to prove by our own efforts that the Emperor’s perception of our standing is incorrect!"

Mehmet’s current, small, young but remarkably mature entourage comprised, as usual, Vladimir, Kiril and Zoran, who now all contributed to a debate as to what to do about Suleyman. The latter was gradually successfully retaking the lands in Anatolia allocated by Tamerlane to his three brothers and other minor rulers and it seemed only a matter of time before he cornered his youngest sibling, whose forces were much weaker.

"We could flee like Musa," Vladimir, who was always concerned more about his beloved prince’s welfare than anything else, suggested, "either to Constantinople or to Tamerlane’s court. I’m sure that we’d receive a decent reception, given the friends we now have in both places." However, Mehmet rejected the young Slav’s proposal for now, announcing "I think that we should be patient and remain here in Amasya to see what unfolds. It’ll be quite a while before Suleyman can safely reach here and we should therefore still have time to consider options such as diplomatic flight if it appears that he might be on the verge of entrapping us."

Vladimir, Kiril and Zoran were not entirely convinced by Mehmet’s argument but they accepted their young prince’s judgement, hoping that it would eventually prove to be wise as opposed to being folly.

(Otrar, Timurid Empire [near the modern village of Shaulder in Kazakhstan], about ½ year later, February 1405)

The ancient Central Asian town, or ‘tobe’, of Otrar was located at the confluence of the mighty River Syr Darya with its Arys tributary. The former waterway flows west 1400 miles from the great Tien Shan mountain system to the immense lake now known as the Aral Sea.

Otrar, which comprised an elevated fortified citadel, or ‘shahristan’, surrounded by a lower town, or ‘rabat’, was also situated at the centre of a large agricultural oasis whose fertility was boosted by clever irrigation involving many canals and dams. The tobe additionally benefited from being at the conjunction of several important caravan routes.

The ‘Great Silk Road’, extending from Europe to China, was, in fact, not one single thoroughfare but a complex of basically three inter-linked and parallel trade routes traversing Central Asia and Otrar gained by having the central one passing through the town. However, the tobe’s position, at the periphery of the southern lands of sedentary populations with the territories of nomads to the north, had brought a lot of trouble in recent centuries.

Otrar had suffered much devastation through assaults by nomadic Mongols, after which many of the population still alive were enslaved. However, unlike some other similarly severely damaged towns and cities of Central Asia, the oasis tobe had later risen from the ashes to regain its former prosperity, aided by its favourable location.

Otrar had also been one of the places that had actually benefited from conquest early in his career by Tamerlane. Having peacefully allowed itself to be absorbed into his Timurid Empire, the town had subsequently gained further in prosperity because of the protection now afforded by the new status. Many new and magnificent public buildings of brick had then been erected to supplement the otherwise largely earthen infrastructure.

The new buildings included a madrassa, or Islamic school, and mosque. Tamerlane had also built a mausoleum over the grave of the holy Arslan Baba, who had been the teacher of his hero, Sheikh Hodja Ahmad Yasewi. As described in an earlier chapter, the latter Sufi poet and scholar was now resting for eternity in his own similar, recently constructed edifice in Yasi [modern town of Turkestan in Kazakhstan], which was about 40 miles away to the north of Otrar.

Tamerlane also built a palace in Otrar. However, as the conqueror had since been busy elsewhere, he had not used the residence for years, although the place was now to acquire great significance for him, after he temporarily housed himself and his closest entourage within its palatial interior, having finally set out to conquer China.

The prospect of a very long march ahead had caused Tamerlane to embark on his campaign unseasonably early. Instead of his usual habit of waiting for spring, the conqueror set off in winter.

69 year-old Tamerlane intended to attack China via the central of the Silk Roads, which benefited from passing through well-established Timurid territory, including Otrar. Vissarion’s clever logistical skills had been applied, amongst other matters, to rendezvousing en-route with large numbers of fresh conscripts and volunteers for his master’s latest military adventure. Many of these newly enlisted warriors, along with much provisioning, were gathering at the riverside town, which was ideal for the purpose, being in the middle of the large, verdant oasis.

The military enterprise now to be undertaken, involving the biggest-ever Timurid army, was likely to be Tamerlane’s biggest test yet. However, it also promised great glory and rich rewards for success, a veritable crowning end to the dreaded conqueror’s career.

(Palace of the Ming Emperors, Nanjing, China, same time)

The new Ming ruler, Zhu Di, now termed the ‘Yung-lo’ Emperor, did not intend to retain his capital at Nanjing but to relocate his headquarters to his previous fiefdom of Beijing, following the example of the Yuan dynasty. However, he had not yet done so by the time that he heard from spies about the garnering of the vast Timurid host about to invade China.

Zhu Di was genuinely very fearful about the outcome of the imminent war. However, his concerns did not extend to any animosity towards the returning Zheng He, who had failed to placate the dreaded Tamerlane.

The apparent failure of Zheng He’s embassy to Tamerlane, although disappointing, had not been unexpected by Zhu Di. After all, the Emperor had the lamentable experiences of previous similar missions to go by to judge that the lack of success was undoubtedly not attributable to any fault on the part of his highly capable and loyal nullified eunuch. The imperial attitude was boosted by what his emissary told him about the secret agreement with Miranshah.

Zhu Di therefore received Zheng He in his current capital of Nanjing with both warmth and relief that no harm had befallen his most precious servant, whom he now ordered to go on another urgent assignment to distant parts. The Emperor appointed the nullified eunuch to the position of ‘Admiral of the Western Seas’ and commanded that he organise a large fleet of huge, flat-bottomed junks to sail across the South China Sea and Indian Ocean to Islamic western Asia and northeast Africa.

The vessels were to be deliberately impressively big in order to carry the necessary supplies for a very long voyage and to awe the rulers of the countries visited, thereby making them more susceptible to being influenced. The aim of the trip, for which Zheng He appeared particularly suited because of his excellent command of men, diplomatic skills and Muslim faith, was twofold.

The first and most immediate reason was to try to enlist allies in western Asia and northeast Africa who could threaten Tamerlane’s westerly empire and so perhaps encourage the conqueror to withdraw prematurely from his invasion of China. The Emperor had too must respect for the military capabilities of the imminent attacker to expect anything other than a momentous campaign that could easily result in his defeat. His pessimism was increased by the fact that the dreaded man would probably be assisted by many of the Chinese enemies that the new Ming ruler had acquired during the recent civil war, not least amongst his own family.

The second and more long-term reason was the previously unprecedented priority the new ruler afforded to foreign policy. The outward-looking Zhu Di intended to provide China with greater world influence for purposes of both commerce and prestige. The Yung-lo Emperor proposed to achieve this by developing a huge fleet of massive ships, capable of sailing to all parts of the globe.

Zhu Di recognised that despatching Zheng He on the initial costly voyage was a big gamble as far as trying to stop the imminent invasion of China was concerned. However, the journey did not represent the Emperor’s only attempt to try to deflect Tamerlane from his imminent intent or otherwise prepare for the feared event.

Zhu Di initiated a lot of other diplomatic activity, designed to attract allies against Tamerlane. He had also already embarked upon a crash programme to buy and breed military horses, of which there was a shortage in China after the recent civil war. He appreciated that he would have to rectify this particular supply problem if he was to stand any chance against the anticipated host of fierce Timurid cavalry.

Zhu Di felt obliged to believe that Zheng He’s secret agreement with Miranshah might not prove practical or otherwise reliable. However, the Emperor also still hoped that Tamerlane’s oldest surviving son might somehow be able to fulfil his part of the bargain and so remove the need for the other desperate efforts to prevent imminent Chinese disaster against the most formidable army and general in the world.

(Otrar, Timurid Empire [near the modern village of Shaulder in Kazakstan], same time)

As mentioned earlier, Vissarion worried that Tamerlane was being too ambitious for his own welfare to be embarking, at the advanced age of 69 years, upon so massive a campaign as the conquest of China. The Georgian’s worst fears appeared to materialise in the palace at Otrar, where his master took ill, whilst waiting for the latest contingents and provisions for his huge gathering army to arrive.

Tamerlane began to suffer from an ever-worsening fever, shortly after he had dined alone with Miranshah at his 38 year-old elder son’s unusual request. Vissarion immediately suspected that his master might have been poisoned, even though all of the food and drink at the private dinner had as usual been thoroughly tasted. However, the Georgian’s suspicions could not be confirmed by the conqueror’s best doctors, who were perplexed as to the cause of the illness.

Tamerlane was taken to his bed in the palace but, as his condition worsened even more, he retained sufficient lucidity to order that he be relocated to his army’s great encampment and the large tent that he had often shared with his beloved boys. If he was going to die, the conqueror wanted to do so within that splendid canopy and on top of the huge bearskin that Vissarion and Arman had been responsible for acquiring as boys.

The whole scene within the tent brought many happy memories back to Tamerlane. During previous winters, the conqueror had often wanted to remain forever inside his canopy with his beloved boys and, amidst his fever, he now began to pray to Allah to grant his wish.

Tamerlane’s past and present boys, who could be mustered at short notice, gathered within their master’s tent, all of them displaying distraught if not tearful faces. Places of honour at either side of the conqueror’s bed were granted to the soon-to-be 28 year-olds, Vissarion and Arman, each of whom gently held one of the man’s hands. The latter Armenian was accompanied by his male lovers, his fellow general, Sibur, and the soon-to-be 22 year-old junior cavalry officer Teimuraz.

Also present nearby, in descending order of age, were Nicolai and Haluk, who would soon be 24 and 23 respectively, and the pair of imminent 22 year-olds, Rezan and Rahu. Other special guests within the canopy included the still hostage Prince Ahmed and his slave, Krishnan, both of whom were rapidly approaching their 18th birthdays.

Tamerlane’s youngest surviving son, Shahrukh, who would soon be 28 like Vissarion and Arman, was naturally present, with his own offspring, Ulugbeg, now a 10 year-old. However, Miranshah, who was 11 years older than his younger brother, was strangely absent.

The whole setting was disturbed at times by copious vomiting by Tamerlane, which produced large volumes of horrible green bile, as his stomach appeared to want to reject much internal nastiness. However, none of the medicines given to the conqueror by his doctors could help their patient’s innards to achieve their aim.

Tamerlane, perhaps thankfully because of the pain and distress he was suffering, eventually lapsed into a coma, during which his breathing became increasingly shallow and he occasionally foamed at the mouth. "Is our Lord dying?" the fearful and tearful Arman then whispered enquiringly to the similarly lachrymose Vissarion. The wise Georgian replied to the despairing question of his oldest and best friend, with whom he still shared some sessions of highly pleasurable sex, with his usual brave candour and correct perception.

As a vicious storm began outside, with forked lightening pervading the dark sky and loud thunderclaps reverberating in the heavens, Vissarion answered "Yes!"

(Ankara, Anatolia [in modern Turkey], same time)

In an apparently rather significant move, Suleyman’s forces retook Ankara, the scene of his father’s devastating defeat and capture by Tamerlane. He now proposed to march on Amaysa to corner and destroy his young half-brother, Mehmet.

(Samarkand, Transoxiana, Timurid Empire [in modern Uzbekistan], same time)

Tamerlane’s Eldest Queen, or ‘Bibi Khanum’, was at prayer in the finally completed, huge new mosque in Samarkand that had been named after her. The Eldest Queen had spent much of the previous year trying to persuade her husband not to embark on his expedition to China. The formidable woman’s own instincts were like those of Vissarion. They told her that her spouse was unwise, at his advanced age, to undertake the project, and her view had been supported by her soothsayers, who predicted disaster, not for the Timurid army but for its leader. However, as was common, the conqueror had been too stubborn to accept his wife’s counsel, not least because he felt that destiny was drawing him east.

Shadi Mulk Aka currently appreciated that Tamerlane had not long departed Samarkand and was probably now only in the environs of Otrar, which was not too distant from the Timurid capital but very far from China. Nevertheless, the Eldest Queen’s conviction that impending disaster was about to befall her husband had become acute. The Bibi Khanum could simply somehow feel deep within her own elderly soul that the feared event was imminent. However, it was not within the formidable woman’s character to mope about such matters.

Consequently, after prayers, the Bibi Khanum left the mosque named after her to visit the also recently completed Gur-Emir mausoleum. Shadi Mulk Aka’s secret mission to the tomb was to ensure that a suitable burial place was arranged to accommodate her husband’s body, which she was somehow sure would soon be returning to her.

The reason for the Bibi Khanum’s pessimism appeared to her to be confirmed whilst she was within the mausoleum, for the very ground shook ominously. A significant earthquake was taking place, which would seriously damage many buildings in Samarkand, not least the new mosque named after the Eldest Queen. However, Shadi Mulk Aka was safe inside the Gur-Emir tomb, which had been built so well that it was little affected.

Nevertheless, despite her personal survival, Shadi Mulk Aka’s unease increased, as she was positive that the earth’s movement represented her husband’s simultaneous end.

(Otrar, Timurid Empire [near the modern village of Shaulder in Kazakstan], same time)

Amazingly, the eyes of the dying and apparently comatose Tamerlane, whose breathing had become almost inaudible, momentarily flickered and then opened. The conqueror’s gaze then slowly surveyed the whole scene within his huge tent, coming briefly to rest on everyone present before finally settling on the still immensely beautiful face of Vissarion.

Tamerlane then displayed what was, given the circumstances, a rather incongruous smile before he croaked in a low voice "Vissarion, bury me only under a stone with my name on it!" He subsequently managed to add mysteriously "Later, when you’re ready too, we’ll winter together forever!" To much accompanying grief-stricken wailing from all round, the eyes of the dreaded conqueror then closed and his breathing permanently ceased.

The hand of the conqueror that had been held by the angelic Vissarion then became awash with the tears of Tamerlane’s favourite boy.

(Part 2 and the end of the concluding chapter 40 will follow shortly)