Tamerlane's Boys 9

By Pueros

Chapter 9 – Scars

(Forests of Rus, Khanate of the Golden Horde, May 1391)

The mounted abductors of Vissarion and Arman proceeded cautiously but with practised skill through the dark forest. The terrified boys, demeaningly carried naked across the backs of two of the Mongols’ tall steeds, nevertheless found time to wonder how the kidnappers could find their way in the all-pervading blackness. The men’s aptitude was too much for Tamerlane’s soldiers who tried to pursue. They quickly discovered the futility of the chase during night-time and soon gave up to wait for dawn. However, by then, the enemy warriors were far away and the well-disguised trail was so cold that the proficient hounds of the conqueror’s army could not follow it.

Daylight passed as the Mongols relentlessly rode towards their destination, stopping only to rest and water their horses. No consideration was given to Vissarion and Arman, apart from the occasional fondling of the lustrous curves of their backsides by the adjacent riders. Sometimes this degrading practice extended to a fingering of their rectums. The young Georgian’s permanently flaccid but nevertheless still delectable cock was unmoved by this. However, the young Armenian’s penis hardened and pushed into the side of the horse on which he was lying whenever he felt the intrusion.

Vissarion and Arman were eventually released from their degrading and uncomfortable positions as dusk approached and their abductors decided that it was time and now safe to camp overnight. The boys were bound to trees, still denied food and water. The famished and parched 14 years olds were also forced to relieve themselves of their painfully stored up urine as they sat, perched against trunks. Embarrassing little streams subsequently ran away from their groins.

It was well after dusk the following day when the boys’ abductors finally reached their destination, the semi-permanent encampment that they called their home. The timing was fortuitous for Vissarion and Arman. It meant that their arrival in such a humiliating manner would not be greeted by the thousands of Mongol children who inhabited the place for they had long since been put to bed, to be watched over by their mothers or other female relatives. It was therefore only the men of this very patriarchal society who remained up, talking round many campfires, to welcome the young newcomers to their village.

The naked and therefore deeply shamed boys soon found themselves once more in the presence of the scar-faced man in his early forties with long drooping moustache, who had been the leader of those Mongols who had captured the two 14 years olds whilst they had been riding on the estate of Vissarion’s uncle in Georgia almost two years earlier. This time the young captives realised that boasting of their status, and the awful vengeance that their master would reek in response to any harm inflicted on them, would not now save them from whatever the man had in mind for them. It was obvious that they had been abducted for a purpose and this perception was to be quickly confirmed.

The same smirking interpreter who had communicated the Mongol leader’s words to Vissarion and Arman in Georgia was to perform the same function in Rus. He advised the frightened young nudes, whose hands were tied behind their backs and whose delicious naked bodies were being ogled at by many surrounding enemy warriors, “You don’t have to tell us who you are. We of course already know and it is the reason why you have been invited here. You see, unless we do something soon to encourage your master to stop his invasion, we shall be destroyed. We believe that you offer us our last hope of survival.”

The leader rubbed one of his hands against the long scar on his face and continued, via the interpreter “You see this scar? It was infliced by an enemy in battle, just before I decapitated him.” Laughter erupted all around at the recollection. Once it had subsided, the man announced “I propose to create many similar permanent scars on the face and body of one of you. I’ll then return him to Tamerlane with the promise that the other will be sent back in similar shape if he does not withdraw his forces with an undertaking never to come back. It is my belief that your master will not only prefer one of you unharmed to both of you horribly scarred for life but also will keep his word never to intrude on our lands again!”

The appalled Vissarion and Arman were speechless, not only through alarm at the leader’s proposal but also through an unusual, for them, inability to refute the man’s logic. The Mongol concluded his horrific revelation by declaring “The only matter still to be decided is which of you is to suffer.” This stimulated the 14 years olds into sudden response, as they both began to beg simultaneously. However, each boy did not plead for mercy or for the other to suffer instead of him.

The scar-faced man in his early forties with long drooping moustache could not be anything other than impressed at the entreaties being conveyed. His interpreter was advising him that each of Tamerlane’s boys was desperately asking to be the one to be horribly scarred for life, presumably to save his companion from such dreadful damage.

The leader pondered the situation for a while, as each boy continued to offer reasons why it should him rather than his friend who was to suffer. The man then announced “I believe that it is appropriate that the decision should be made by whichever of you succeeds in a challenge. See that tree over there.” The now silent Vissarion and Arman turned their heads behind them towards where the Mongol was pointing.

“The one on the edge of the forest that is bigger and taller than the rest,” the leader continued, “is the punishment tree. From one of its sturdy branches, miscreants are suspended to suffer or sometimes to die. One of you will also be suspended there soon to await the infliction of the many cuts that will scar you for life. That event will take place after dawn so that all of my people can watch.” The man paused so that Tamerlane’s boys could pick out the dark, foreboding and unmistakable night-time shape of the tree in question. He could tell by the look of terror in the 14 years olds’ beautiful faces, as they were eventually turned back towards him, that the young Georgian and Armenian had perceived the dreadful distant location looming above the heads of the watching warriors.

“My men will spread out to form a cordon between here and the tree,” the leader concluded via the interpreter, “that will demarcate the route for a race. The first to run around the tree trunk and return to kiss my feet will be permitted to choose who is later suspended from the branch.” The aghast Vissarion and Arman looked at each other, noticing clear disgust at what they were required to do as well as fear in each other’s gorgeous sensuous eyes. They then heard the scar-faced man in his early forties with long drooping moustache issue various orders.

As Vissarion and Arman were being unbound, the many watching heavily armed warriors dispersed to collect torches and then form the necessary barrier round the racecourse. Despite the fact that the tree, for which the young naked runners had to aim, was about 400 paces away, there were so many men that they stood almost shoulder-to-shoulder along both sides of the now well-illuminated route. The two boys therefore realised that an attempt to escape as they raced was not a realistic option.

The interpreter, a smirk seemingly a permanent feature of his face, approached Vissarion and Arman and positioned the young nudes side-by-side in readiness to start their contest. He then withdrew his sabre from its scabbard and raised it into the air, whilst telling the boys that they could begin when he lowered the sword. The man finally looked at his leader, whose nod caused him to commence proceedings.

It would have been easy for either Vissarion or Arman to pretend to be trying to win whilst allowing his companion to succeed and so sacrifice himself. However, the characters of both 14 years olds meant that such a sly cowardly act never entered their minds. Each boy was selflessly and bravely intent on saving his friend from the agony and damage of many cuts. The young contestants therefore ran as fast as they could in order to be the first to kiss the Mongol leader’s feet and, as they proceeded, they were cheered loudly by the watching warrior throng.

The resultant noise woke many of those sleeping in their tents but only one was brave enough to venture outside to investigate, Mongol women and children knowing better than to disturb their menfolk’s night-time pastimes. Nicolai hid amongst the branches of a tree to observe events. The 11 years old Muscovite was astonished to be watching an apparent race between two naked boys.

Vissarion and Arman were almost as fast as each other but the latter had secured a slight lead as the punishment tree was reached and they ran round its wide trunk. Despite the heat and sweat that their exertions had induced within their divine bodies, both boys could not help but shiver as they then passed under the thick branch from which one of them would soon be suspended. It was clearly discernible by the ropes that dangled downwards and the bloodstained patch of ground underneath.

Arman managed to maintain his small lead as the two boys approached the Mongol leader. Vissarion was beginning to tire and he realised that he would therefore find it very difficult to overtake his friend legitimately. It was the sight of the young Armenian’s bare ankles about a pace in front of him that caused the winning idea to enter the young Georgian’s mind before panic did so.

The boys were about 20 paces from the scar-faced man in his early forties with long drooping moustache when Vissarion surprised everyone, not least his victim, by leaping to grab Arman’s legs, bringing both boys to the ground in what today would be called a perfectly timed Rugby tackle. The young Georgian then made use of the young Armenian’s shock at the turn of events by quickly regaining his feet and running to the grinning Mongol leader.

The stunned Arman had not even stood up by the time Vissarion was kissing the Mongol leader’s boots. “Congratulations,” the man declared via the interpreter, as the naked boy kneeled to perform the demeaning act that confirmed his victory, “you may choose your fate. Is it you or your companion who is to be scarred?” “Me,” answered the almost breathless young Georgian without hesitation, as he rose again onto his feet. The young Armenian, appalled at his friend’s action, now finally came running up and, without concern for etiquette, began to denounce the deed as cheating, following this up by begging to be declared the winner instead. However, his entreaties were to be dismissed.

“I admire your bravery,” the leader truthfully informed the young Armenian, “and that of your friend. However, I never said that the type of action taken by him to secure success was not permitted. Accordingly, his victory stands. Nevertheless, you will need to maintain your courage as you will be nearby when he suffers the cuts.” The man then turned to some of his warriors and ordered them to suspend Vissarion from the branch of the punishment tree whilst Arman was to be tied to the trunk.

“I’ll see you both at dawn,” the two scared boys heard the leader finally say, via the interpreter, as they were led away. Meanwhile, Nicolai, who had been watching from his distant hiding place in the surrounding forest, clambered down from the tree branches and returned to his tent, where he remained for a few hours until most of the Mongol men had gone to their beds.

Nicolai again managed to creep out of his tent without the other young Muscovite hostages noticing and carefully made his way to the punishment tree, a location with which he was very familiar because it was where he had been whipped over a year earlier. As the 11 years old came close to his objective, he saw the two naked boys again. One was suspended, as he had been, from the sturdy branch whilst the other was tied in a standing position to the trunk. An armed guard sat nearby, close to a fire that gave some illumination to the scene.

Nicolai puzzled at the sight of the suspended young nude for a while, having perceptively realised that there was something different about his form. However, he could not fathom what it could be until amazed realisation suddenly dawned. The boy’s scrotum was empty.

After eventually overcoming his incredulous astonishment at his discovery, Nicolai pondered what to do. The boys were obviously in trouble for some reason. The 11 years old contemplated whether he should take the very dangerous course of trying to help them or just quietly return to his tent. Given his character, there was really only one realistic option.

Vissarion was trying to prevent himself from crying as the rope that bound him to the branch above bit painfully into his now reddened wrists. Arman was similarly attempting not to shed some tears, although these would have been created not through agony but rather anguish at what his beautiful friend was to suffer at dawn, now just a few hours away. The only earlier consolation for the two boys had been the fact that the enemy leader had not threatened them with sexual molestation by his men, as he had almost two years earlier. They both presumed correctly that this was because such action would have been considered incorrect in the Mongol home encampment with the warriors’ families nearby. Nevertheless, many had come to inspect more closely the delicious naked forms of the 14 years olds, causing the young Georgian particular shameful distress as his gelded gentials became a focus of much attention and comment.

Vissarion and Arman were as surprised as their guard to see a pretty younger boy appear amongst the nearby trees before quickly disappearing again in the darkness. The Mongol stood and enquired who was there but no answer came. He therefore withdrew his sabre from its scabbard and began to venture slowly towards the spot where the youngster had appeared. It was a literally fatal mistake as a nimble and courageous 11 years old jumped on top of him from an overhead branch before, after both had fallen to the ground, the man was rendered unconscious by a blow to the head from a short but heavy stick.

Nicolai left the man’s heavy sabre untouched and instead gained possession of his knife, carried in a smaller scabbard. He did not use the blade to kill the warrior, as it would be the very angry Mongol leader who would perpetrate that deed. The 11 years old Muscovite instead used the blade to release the very grateful young Armenian before scrambling up the tree to do the same for the equally delighted young Georgian.

Vissarion fell to the ground harmlessly and tried to thank his rescuer but it was immediately clear that they had no common language, although names were exchanged. Nevertheless, mutual understanding was achieved by use of various hand signals. It quickly became clear to the young Georgian and Armenian that the younger lad wanted to accompany them in their escape, an aspiration Tamerlane's boys were happy to meet. The trio soon found themselves running through the dark forest towards the south-east, a direction the naked escapees had indicated to their clothed companion that they preferred to take and which was judged in clearings from the stars above in a thankfully cloudless sky.

Nicolai was happy to follow his companions’ suggestion, as he now preferred to seek revenge on the Mongols for what they had done to him and his people than return immediately to his family in Moscow. He somehow instinctively knew that the boys he had rescued would be able to help him in respect of this deep-seated desire.

Nicolai had managed to make it known to his companions that he feared for their chances of a successful escape because he knew, from personal experience, that their eventual pursuers would be mounted and would be accompanied by hunting dogs. He consequently conveyed the importance of somehow disguising their trail. It was therefore with great joy that the boys fortuitously came, as the sun rose in the sky above, to the banks of the fast running upper reaches of the river Don, flowing in the direction that they wished to take because Tamerlane’s main base was situated downstream. The waterway would not only hide the route they had taken but also considerably speed their progress.

Nicolai had no hesitation in joining his new friends in nudity and soon all three were in the cool water, not really having to swim but instead just having to keep afloat as the Don took them towards safety. It was with amazed and shared exultation that three naked, dishevelled and very hungry boys were found two days later, walking along the banks of the river, by one of Tamerlane’s cavalry patrols. However, the trio’s distressed condition was soon rectified, although the spare military attire in which they were first dressed was much too big for them, a situation none was particularly worried about in the circumstances.

Nicolai was astonished at subsequently discovering the status of the 14 years olds he had rescued, as he was granted an audience a day later with Tamerlane, about whose terrible reputation the young Muscovite was fully acquainted. The 11 years old was politely escorted to the dreaded conqueror’s tent, where he found the man in the company of Vissarion, Arman and a translator. All three boys were now resplendently dressed, had been well fed and had enjoyed a good night’s undisturbed sleep.

Tamerlane, ecstatically happy at another miraculous escape for his beloved boys, asked Nicolai, via the translator, how he wished to he rewarded for saving the 14 years olds. However, the 11 years old’s answer was rather unexpected. “By serving you, Great Lord,” he announced, “in the same way that Vissarion and Arman do, whilst you clear the Mongols from my homeland.” The young Muscovite had gained an appreciation of the true role of the young Georgian and Armenian since his arrival in the conqueror’s huge camp. He was unconcerned about the sexual part, believing that it was a small price to pay for being close to the man who would surely secure his long-desired revenge.

Tamerlane was surprised by Nicolai’s request but far from displeased, as the blonde-haired blue-eyed youngster was extremely attractive. However, he thought that granting the young Muscovite his wish would be poor reward for the salvation of his catamites, although he did not want to upset the 11 years old by turning him down flatly. The conqueror therefore tried to put the lad off the idea by advising “But you are a Christian and all non-Muslims who serve me in the manner of my boys are castrated, like Vissarion was.”

Tamerlane did not like hurting Vissarion’s feelings by making this comment and would make up for it later by apologising to the young Georgian whilst also eventually relating his motive. The conqueror then continued by telling Nicolai that “It is a custom that I’m not prepared to forego.”

Tamerlane actually knew that turning Nicolai into a eunuch was something that he would not pursue, especially as he now deeply regretted having Vissarion gelded. The conqueror also recognised that, even if that was his true desire, the young Georgian and Armenian would undoubtedly persuade him otherwise. He was looking forward to being at the receiving end of their imminent attempts at dissuasion, wondering what pleasures they would be offering in return for his ultimate compliant surrender.

Tamerlane eventually terminated the audience by suggesting to Nicolai that he considered the issue further, adding that he would grant the boy another audience on the following afternoon to conclude matters. Vissarion and Arman were later fully occupied for the rest of the day within the cosy confines of the conqueror’s tent, making unnecessary entreaties before, having secured victory, indulging in lengthy three-way lovemaking. It was therefore the next morning that they set out to find their new Muscovite friend to tell him the good news.

Whilst his boys were away, Tamerlane granted the unexpected and unusual request of the camp’s full-time surgeon and part-time castrator for an audience. As the man entered the conqueror’s tent, his leader was surprised to notice that he was carrying a small bowl.

“Why do you wish to meet me?” Tamerlane enquired. “Great Lord,” the man answered, “I just wanted to confirm that your order has been carried out. I carry the young Muscovite’s testicles in my dish!”

(To be continued in chapter 10 – ‘Samarkand’)