(Outside the walls of Baghdad, Mesopotamia [modern Iraq], Autumn, 1396)

The off-duty Arman quietly crept into Tamerlane’s luxurious tent on this cool autumnal evening. The young Armenian knew that the conqueror would not be present, as his master was supervising the end of the mopping up operations of another successful seizure of Baghdad. The business was, at times, bound to be bloody. Those, who had rebelled against local Timurid [i.e. pertaining to Timur, otherwise known as ‘Tamerlane’] suzerainty in favour of the restoration of Sultan Ahmad Jalayir and had been captured, would have to lose their heads.

Arman also knew that his beautiful, beloved Vissarion found such scenes necessary but distasteful and would not therefore wish to witness the sanguine spectacle. Consequently, the young Armenian recognised where his oldest and best friend was likely to be and he was not to be proven wrong.

Arman spied Vissarion sitting alone, cross-legged on the floor of the tent, on top of a rich Persian carpet and writing something onto parchment placed on a low table in front of him. The young Armenian very carefully and silently approached his fellow 19 year-old from behind, knelt and then gently placed his right arm around his beautiful friend’s shoulders.

Despite the gentleness of his embrace, the young Armenian fully expected his fellow 19 year-old to jump in surprise, believing that the young Georgian could not possibly have detected his extremely furtive approach, honed by extensive military practice. However, his beautiful friend simply carried on writing, reacting only by whispering, without looking to see who had arrived, "Hello, Arman!"

"Damn! I thought that was my most careful approach ever," Arman announced, with clear exasperation, "and yet you still sensed me coming. How do you that?"

Arman was rewarded for the question by a turn of Vissarion’s sublime head, crowned wonderfully by a long, silky mane of straight, golden hair, and the appearance, sparkling in the tent lamplight, of peerlessly sensual, shining blue eyes. The young Georgian’s still resplendently boyish face exhibited one of his famous, totally disarming smiles.

"As usual in such circumstances, dear Arman," Vissarion declared, "I didn’t detect your approach with any of my normal senses. Something deep inside instead told me that you were here. You encounter similar peculiar feelings about me, for example whenever I’m out of sight but in danger. Mine simply manifest themselves in happily knowing that you’re close!"

"What do you think causes such feelings?" Arman enquired, although he had asked the same question before and already knew the answer. However, the young Armenian always relished Vissarion’s reply.

Vissarion’s disarming smile grew broader, revealing his full array of perfect white teeth. The young Georgian, still looking not much older than a 15 year-old, then obliged his oldest friend by responding with one word.

Vissarion answered "Love!"

(Janissary school barracks, Edirne, Ottoman Empire [modern Turkey], same time)

Zoran no longer attempted to bully his fellow 8 year-olds, who shared his sparse dormitory and harsh life in the Janissary school, or ‘acemi oglan’. The young Serb had instead fallen under the spell of the naturally pleasant character of his new best friend, the similarly aged Bulgar, Kiril, and so treated the others with affability, respect and consideration.

Zoran had even relocated his bed to be alongside that of Kiril, which, the latter boy being a late arrival at the acemi oglan, was in the least favoured position, adjacent to the large, open window at the end of the dormitory. Although such a situation was pleasant enough during the hot Balkan summers, the reverse was more than true amidst the severe local winters.

Ironically, Zoran’s sudden change in attitude towards his fellow 8 year-olds immensely increased their respect for the biggest and strongest boy in the dormitory. This regard also extended to the young Bulgar who had so obviously been responsible for the happy transformation in the Serb, despite the traditional rivalry between the two respective nationalities. Consequently, the pair, who, like all of the rest, had been freshly circumcised only 6 months previously in official confirmation of their conversion to Islam, inexorably became the natural de-facto leaders of the dormitory.

These developments, along with the obvious intelligence, capability and fortitude of Kiril and Zoran, did not go unnoticed amongst their adult supervisors, who were always attempting to identify future officer material, either in terms of military ranks or palace officialdom.

(Outside the walls of Baghdad, Mesopotamia [modern Iraq], same time)

Vissarion had been rewarded for his one-word answer with a lingering kiss on his rosy lips from Arman before the latter eventually managed to summon up enough dutiful restraint to cease the delicious activity. The young Armenian selflessly did not want to be responsible for distracting his beloved young Georgian from important work.

Arman then asked, whilst glancing at the papers inscribed in Vissarion’s neat handwriting on the table, "What are you doing?" "Why not read it to try to work out the answer?" was his friend’s teasing suggestion in reply.

Arman therefore took up Vissarion’s challenge. He read his best friend’s last written sentences, which stated "The forces of the Transoxianan Barlas tribe and their allies, the Qarauna, were defeated by the Mongols at the Battle of the Mire in 1365. The battle was fought during a thunderstorm, when the ground was bad for the tribes’ big, clumsy, shod horses but good for their enemy’s small, mobile, unshod steppe ponies."

Arman then looked back into Vissarion’s sparkling blue eyes and commented curiously "Isn’t the Barlas our master’s tribe?" "Yes!" his friend answered succinctly but with otherwise further mischievously teasing brevity. However, the young Armenian was bright enough to work out quickly what his fellow 19 year-old was engaged on without further clues.

"You’re writing our master’s biography!" Arman suddenly shouted, excited at both his own correct conclusion and at the project upon which Vissarion had begun. The young Armenian then asked, whilst referring to Tamerlane, "Does he know?"

"Of course," Vissarion replied, "and he is delighted. As you appreciate, our master has never taken the trouble to learn to read or write...." However, the young Georgian was interrupted when Arman, whilst displaying an artificial frown, remarked "And yet he made us suffer all those tutors!"

"You know that was for our own good," Vissarion responded, with equal good humour, "as we can’t all neglect education in favour of conquering the world. Anyway, our master now says that he deeply regrets not being literate."

"You know that he’s talking rubbish," Arman, however, commented, whilst his handsome face restored a broad grin, "because our master thoroughly enjoys having beautiful boys do the chore for him!" Vissarion smiled back, appreciating the truthfulness of his friend’s retort. He nevertheless then continued his description of the reasons for Tamerlane’s delight at the project upon which the young Georgian had embarked.

"Our master," Vissarion advised, "says that he would like his history to be recorded by someone whom he can really trust. However, he also states that he wants no sycophancy, just a fair and objective appraisal of his life and times, warts and all."

"Are you sure such an approach to the project is wise?" Arman next enquired in respect of Vissarion’s literary pilgrimage, his previous grin having been replaced by a genuine expression of concern for his friend’s welfare. "We know that he has a terrible temper," the young Armenian remarked, "and might react dangerously to criticism of some of his past actions, even towards someone he loves!"

"I don’t think so," Vissarion replied. "How do you know?" Arman responded, still with worry etched on his very handsome face.

"Because we’ve already talked, usually in bed, about his life in depth," Vissarion answered, "and I’ve often condemned actions he has confessed to perpetrating before we knew him." "And you still lived to tell the tale?" Arman exclaimed, but with relief rather than incredulity evident in his voice, as he realised that Tamerlane’s reaction had obviously been at least benign if not supportive.

"Only just!" Vissarion announced, swiftly wiping the renewed smile from Arman’ face. The young Armenian then asked, with restored alarm, "Was he very angry?"

"Often sufficiently so to tickle me until I surrendered once more to his manly needs!" Vissarion declared, making Arman realise that his friend had kidded him once more. "You cheeky Georgian, you’re going to pay for your tease!" the young Armenian yet again declared, as he usually did in such circumstances before setting out to achieve the customary revenge.

When Tamerlane subsequently returned to his tent, with Nicolai, Rezan, Rahu and the new beautiful recruit to his intimate service, Haluk, respectively 15, 13, 13 and 14 years of age, he found the naked 19 year-olds, Vissarion and Arman, asleep, in each other’s arms in his huge bed.

"It seems," the conqueror smilingly whispered without jealousy to the four boys who were still awake, "that my young Georgian scribe didn’t write much of my history tonight!"

(Janissary school barracks, Edirne, Ottoman Empire [modern Turkey], same time)

Zoran was trying to calm Kiril’s excitement as best he could, given the ever-watchful eyes of the adult duty eunuch, responsible for good order and discipline in the dormitory for 8 year-olds. Too much overt emotion or interaction between boys was frowned upon and could be punishable.

Word had filtered through to the pupils of the acami oglan that a large army of Christians from the west had set out on a Crusade. The military pilgrimage had been promoted by Pope Boniface IX and King Sigismund I of Hungary in order to try to expel the infidel Muslim Turks from Europe. They had been stimulated into such Christian militaristic zeal partly by anti-Islamic fervour, partly because of alarm at further Ottoman expansion in the Balkans, this time into Wallachia [in modern Romania], and partly at the request of the beleaguered Byzantine Emperor, Manuel II Palaeologus.

The Crusaders were initially targeting Wallachia and neighbouring Bulgaria, Kiril’s homeland, for rescue from the Ottoman yoke. The Christians then intended to move on to relieve Manuel II Palaeologus’ Constantinople, which had been blockaded by Bayezid I’s Ottoman forces for 2 years.

Although all of the 8 year-olds had been in the acami oglan for over a year and had been subjected during that time to much harsh treatment and intense indoctrination, converting to Islam and being circumcised in the process, none had yet completely forsaken their original national and religious allegiances. Some secret sparks of loyalty to their ethnic birthrights still remained deep within the boys’ souls, and this was as true of Kiril as anyone else.

Accordingly, Kiril hoped that the Crusaders would be victorious and that defeat for the Ottomans, and the consequent liberation of Bulgaria and the rest of the Balkans, would somehow result in his own freedom and return to his homeland and family.

(Gallipoli, Ottoman Empire [modern Turkey], same time)

Someone who was naturally desirous of an entirely different victory scenario in the Balkans was the youngest of the four legitimate sons of Bayezid I, the Ottoman Sultan. 7 year-old Mehmet and his similarly aged personal Slav slave, Vladimir, had left the palace in the current Turkish capital of Edirne on the European mainland to go to a similar residence at Bursa, on the Asian Anatolian peninsula. The journey would by-pass the small remnant of the once great Byzantine Empire, which was now largely confined to the city of Constantinople.

Ottoman-dominated domains now surrounded the formidably fortified Constantinople, whilst the whole of known civilisation waited for the anticipated, apparently logical, ultimate denouement in the region between the rival ancient Byzantine and new Ottoman Empires. The great city had been blockaded by Bayezid I’s Muslim forces for 2 years and many people wondered for how much longer the ancient metropolis could last as the final bastion of Christian suzerainty in the area.

Constantinople’s survival so far had only been the result of earlier humiliating vassalage, payment of hefty tribute and provision of hostages to the Turks, plus the reluctance of the latter to assault the city’s virtually impregnable walls. The later ability of the metropolis to survive the blockade was mainly as a result of the shortcomings of the Ottoman navy and the willingness of Christian allies with superior maritime capabilities, such as Genoa and Venice, to sail in supplies. Such provisions were supplemented by smuggling activities, many of which actually originated in enemy territory.

Mehmet, Vladimir and their large party of guardian Janissary soldiers and attendants, including several formidable black eunuchs, embarked on a resplendent Turkish galley, or ‘kadirga’, fit to host the Sultan’s son, in the port of Gallipoli. This town is located on the eponymous peninsula, which was to become very important 520 years later, during the 1^st World War, to Australian and New Zealand history in particular.

The Gallipoli peninsula is situated on the Dardanelles, which is the 45-mile long, 1 to 5 mile wide strait that connects the Aegean with the Sea of Marmara. The latter is, in turn, linked to the Black Sea by the 18-mile long, ½ to 2½-mile wide Bosporus.

The Sea of Marmara and the connected respectively southern and northern straits of the Dardanelles and Bosporus separate Europe from Asia. Gallipoli had been, 40 years previously, in 1356, the first place on the European mainland to be conquered by the Ottomans.

Mehmet, Vladimir and their protective entourage were about to sail north up the Dardanelles and Sea of Marmara to the port of Mudanya on the Anatolian shore of Asia. Their galley was a long, low, narrow ship of shallow draught, which was propelled, when becalmed, entering or leaving harbour or in battle, by oars protruding from apertures associated with 26 benches, or ‘thwarts’, of rowers on each side. However, in normal breezy cruising conditions, the vessel relied on a pair of triangular lateen sails.

Mehmet’s galley sailed in a little fleet of similar ships, provided as protection for the Sultan’s son against Byzantine or other blockade-runners and raiders. After eventually disembarking in Mudanya, the prince’s party would then make the short inland journey south across the fertile coastal plain to Bursa.

Bayezid I had decided to despatch his youngest son away from Edirne to the relative safety of Anatolia because of the advance into the Ottoman European lands of the Christian Crusade. The Crusaders included 10,000 Frenchmen, 1,000 Englishmen and 2,000 German Knights, who all joined up with the 30,000 strong Hungarian army. There was also an assortment of Austrians, Croats, Lombards, Poles and Knights Hospitallers from Rhodes to support the local Wallachians and Bulgars in their quest for liberation. An Italian admiral additionally commanded a fleet of 44 galleys supplied mainly by the maritime mercantile powers of Genoa and Venice.

Amongst the leaders of the Crusade alongside Sigismund I, the King of Hungary, were John the Fearless, Duke of Burgundy, Philip of Artois and Jean II le Miengre dit Bouciciault, respectively the Constable and Marshal of France, and Friedrich, German Prince of Hohenzollern,. Meanwhile, amongst the ordinary ranks was a very handsome, blonde, blue-eyed 16 year-old from Bavaria, called Johann Schiltberger.

(Outside the walls of Baghdad, Mesopotamia [modern Iraq], same time)

Vissarion and Arman were awoken by the sound of a flute, lute and drum being played respectively, and with harmonic competence, by Nicolai, Rezan and Rahu. Meanwhile, Haluk, currently attired with colourful splendour, although such a clothed status would not last long, was gyrating with expert eroticism to the music in front of Tamerlane’s transfixed eyes. The boy had been delighted to discover that his gelded state did not deter the conqueror from frequently enjoying his lascivious striptease performances or his gorgeous 14 year-old body in bed afterwards.

Despite their different and varied ethnic origins, Nicolai, Rezan and Rahu were all using instruments long associated with Central Asian nomads. As the conqueror often liked to be soothed by music, all of Tamerlane’s boys were instructed by expert tutors in the use of at least one such device, the choice of origin resulting from the Mongol cultural background influencing their master’s travelling court.

Nicolai was playing a type of wooden flute called a ‘limbe’. The beautiful, blonde, blue-eyed young Muscovite’s sweet, rosy lips and fingers had to contend with nine holes along the length of his instrument, one of which was the main blowhole, whilst the others were reserved for tuning. The boy was currently indulging in a technique termed ‘circular breathing’, whereby one note is blown whilst the musician inhales through his nose to collect air inside his mouth. This is then exhaled by the pressure of his cheek muscles, whilst the base of the tongue is used as a valve. The procedure is basically the same as for bagpipes.

Rezan was using a bow of willow and horsetail hair, coated with cedar resin, to play a type of lute, with two strings made of sheep sinew, called a ‘morin khuur’. The body and neck of this instrument was carved from wood, culminating at the top end in the shape of a horse’s head. The sound was similar to that of a violin or a cello.

Various Mongol legends surround the morin khuur, which was originally made from horse ribs and skin. One concerned the origins of the instrument. A famed musician supposedly possessed a beloved, magical steed that could fly. However, one day an evil sorcerer killed the precious animal and the bereaved owner then made a lute from the beast’s remains for remembrance. Some people also say that ewes that initially reject lambs will begin to suckle after being soothed by the music from the device.

Rahu was playing a round, shallow, wood and hide, bass frame drum called a ‘hingerik’, which resembled a large tambourine and could be tapped with hand or stick. The instrument also possessed a detachable pole to enable it to be played standing or sitting.

Despite being, immediately after his enslavement, originally acutely ashamed of his new work as an erotic boy dancer, Haluk had eventually come round actually to relishing and excelling at the role, at least on most of the occasions he was required to perform his duties. His original owner was accustomed to servicing rich, refined clients, and so his young star performer primarily displayed his striptease skills and ultimately naked body only at elegant all-male dinner parties catering for Baghdadis of highly discerning homosexual tastes.

At such select soirées, Haluk would generally be destined only for the bed of the host or sometimes, if the nature of the occasion demanded, principal guest. It was not considered correct etiquette to share one boy around, regardless of his splendours, and his owner also disdained such arrangements, recognising the importance of maintaining the exceptionally beautiful and skilled young slave’s relative sexual freshness for future valuable commissions.

Haluk’s owner knew full well, from unfortunate previous experience, that exposing a boy to too much libidinous manly attention could soon damage the child’s appearance and demeanour, and he had no intention of allowing such a major source of income to be so ruined. Naturally, part of the compensatory supplementary services he provided for his clients was the provision, if needed, of other pretty but less choreographically skilled youngsters.

Haluk had quickly come to appreciate that he was truly very beautiful and attractive to the eyes and groins of the men for whom he danced. The boy also realised that he had a degree of power over many of them, for most of those for whom he performed his exotic gyrations, and who clearly lusted after him, could never have him unless he secretly agreed.

Although Haluk was only a slave, he had sometimes been greatly flattered to be wooed with big compliments and small gifts by adult male admirers, despite his owner’s attempts to discourage such attention. The boy had also occasionally and very selectively succumbed to such obsequiousness, or more succinctly to the presents on offer, and allowed the men concerned to have their wicked ways with him. The child did not consider himself to be a whore in so doing, because he was already that, albeit one of the highest class, but instead an enterprising business person.

Then came the fateful day when Haluk danced for the first time for Ahmad Jalayir. The Sultan of Baghdad subsequently made the boy’s original owner an offer to buy his exceptional young dancer that the man could not refuse, as it involved not only a decent price but also the ability to retain his head. However, the child was initially not displeased by this alteration in proprietorship over him, mistakenly believing that the change might actually result in an improvement in his fortunes.

‘Perhaps’, Haluk thought, ‘sometime, after I have lost my looks, my new owner might find me a good job within his palace.’ The slave boy maintained this notion until the day the Sultan condemned the young Kurd’s balls to oblivion.

Haluk, of course, now had yet another new master, namely the dreaded Tamerlane, whom the boy had actually found to be surprisingly nice for a person of such appallingly fearsome reputation. The young Kurd initially thought that the conqueror’s pleasant disposition towards him might only have resulted from his role in saving Rezan and Teimuraz from Ahmad Jalayir’s evil intentions. However, the 14 year-old’s early supposition was later disproved when he realised that the man was always very kind and devoted to those steadfastly loyal to him, which the recently created eunuch fully intended to be.

Tamerlane had asked Haluk how he wanted to be rewarded for the salvation of Rezan and Teimuraz. The boy appreciated that the conqueror expected him to request gold and comfortable resettlement somewhere amongst his fellow Kurds. However, the 14 year-old was more adventurously ambitious.

Recognising from the lustful look in Tamerlane’s eyes, which Haluk had seen many times on the faces of other men, that the conqueror fancied him, the boy had answered "I would like to serve you, Lord!" The comely 14 year-old then added something that would dispel all doubt about what he meant.

Haluk announced "I’d like to become one of Tamerlane’s famous boys!"

(Damascus, Syria, Mamluk Empire, same time)

Someone who was not grateful towards Haluk was, of course, Ahmad Jalayir. Having been forced to flee again from Baghdad to his Mamluk allies in Syria, the Sultan cursed the young Kurd for his rescue of Rezan and Teimuraz, which had ultimately necessitated his humiliating flight.

"If I ever have that eunuch brat, Haluk, in my hands again," Ahmad Jalayir muttered venomously to no-one in particular, "it’ll be much more than his balls that I’ll have extracted from his body!"

(Outside the walls of Baghdad, Mesopotamia [modern Iraq], same time)

"Whose turn is it tonight?" asked the naked Tamerlane because his rigid, throbbing cock, brought to excited erection by the young Kurd’s just concluded, skilled striptease routine, was more than ready to enjoy one of his boys. Given that the conqueror now had so much choice, in the wonderful shapes of, in alphabetical order, Haluk, Nicolai, Rahu, Rezan and Vissarion, he had adopted a roster system to determine his nightly selection in order to avoid the possibility of creating petty jealousies. He considerately did so even though his beautiful catamites’ lovely characters made such developments unlikely.

Despite turning 60 years of age, Tamerlane’s sex drive was as strong as ever, having been effectively maintained by the rejuvenating presence in his life of his universally gorgeous boys. Whenever campaigning permitted, the conqueror would seek to orgasm at least twice every night. He would usually first cum inside the rectum, previously carefully cleaned by enema, of one of his catamites before having his flaccid penis later revitalised by the skilled lips and tongue of another, who would ultimately swallow the resultant ejaculate without complaint or problem.

Tamerlane had viewed Haluk’s erotic dancing whilst lying naked on his bed, adjacent to Vissarion and Arman, whom he had discovered there earlier. The conqueror had no need to play with his excited cock whilst he watched the young Kurd’s delightful gyrations, as the hands and mouths of the now similarly nude 15 year-old Nicolai and 13 year-old Rahu and Rezan had taken turns to perform that particular task.

In initial response to Tamerlane’s question, Vissarion’s immaculate face acquired a reddish hue. The young Georgian then confessed "I’m afraid, Lord, that it is the turn of my bottom to entertain your manhood but unfortunately, at present, it’s somewhat soiled!" The 19 year-old was, of course, referring to the copious sperm that Arman had kindly impregnated him with earlier.

Seeing Vissarion’s abashment, Tamerlane could not prevent his frequently mischievous sense of humour from tempting him to laugh loudly, and he was soon joined in his chortling by the others present. Even the young Georgian subject of the conqueror’s hilarity eventually saw the funny side of his predicament and began to giggle.

When the laughter finally subsided, Nicolai announced that it would have been the turn of his bottom to entertain Tamerlane next and so volunteered to substitute for Vissarion, if the latter fulfilled the oral duties the 15 year-old was due to perform later overnight. This suggestion was soon agreed and shortly afterwards the beautiful young Muscovite eunuch, who was truly looking forward to having his own prostate imminently and deliciously tickled again, could feel the conqueror’s eager, cut cockhead pressing against his pink sphincter.

Meanwhile, Vissarion had gone elsewhere in Tamerlane’s huge, luxurious tent to wash and dress himself. Nicolai’s kind substitution for him as the sexually eager conqueror’s bumboy for the night meant that the young Georgian could go earlier than expected to the tent of the conqueror’s youngest son, 19 year-old Shahrukh. There, he would collect Ulugbeg, who was now a 2¼ year-old toddler and had newly arrived from Tabriz, and tempt the child to sleep, whilst ultimately cradling him under the stars.

The baby prince had followed on slowly from Tabriz in a large, well-protected caravan, after the rapid departure from that Persian city of his father, Shahrukh, grandfather, Tamerlane, and most efficient but unofficial night-nurse, Vissarion, to assist the stalled siege of Baghdad, led by his 30 year-old uncle, Miranshah. The boy’s real nurses had not managed a decent sleep since the young Georgian had departed and were now extremely grateful that the 19 year-old could resume his customary evening chore.

The task would take Vissarion away every evening from the understanding Tamerlane’s tent only for a short period. The beautiful young Georgian would then reward the conqueror for his kind consideration by narrating his always fascinating nightly tales.

On this night, Arman returned to his own canopy, knowing that the arms and delights of either the 26 year-old Sibur or 13 year-old Teimuraz or, more likely, both of them would be waiting for him. In Tamerlane’s tent, the gelded Haluk now lay naked alongside his busily occupied new master and, wanting to do something, began to fondle the similarly beautiful, prone and unclothed Rezan’s intact genitalia. The 14 year-old was soon rewarded for his efforts by the appearance of a full erection on the happily compliant boy who was a year younger. The nude Rahu, unperturbed by such activities or by displaying his own nullified state, sat adjacent on the floor, close to his discarded clothing and weapons. The ‘Little Limpet’ was as content as ever simply to be watchful about the conqueror’s security.

Rahu’s lovely eyes and ears were, however, momentarily distracted by the almost simultaneous sounds of climaxes being attained. Tamerlane, reaching the culmination of his first sexual pilgrimage of the night, was shouting the word "Yes" repeatedly, as his cock erupted deep inside Nicolai, whose prostate-inspired orgasm was more quietly exclaimed. Adjacent to this pair, Rezan had grabbed hold of the bedcovers on either side of him and was groaning, as Haluk’s fingers and now mouth expertly brought the young Persian’s groin to the boil. The resplendent 13 year-old then uttered a vociferous "Ahhhhhhhh", whilst the young Kurdish eunuch was gently rubbing his penile shaft and licking his intact balls.

The young, brown haired and eyed Persian’s cock shot a thin stream of white semen into the air, which landed on his cute boyish belly and chest, only to be quickly licked away by 14 year-old Haluk’s efficient tongue. Vissarion arrived back from his ablutions just in time to see this spectacle and profusely congratulate the 13 year-old. The young Georgian then spoke to Tamerlane, who had removed himself from being astride Nicolai’s rear to collapse instead onto the bed in order to recover from his own intense orgasm. The conqueror had in the process closed his eyes and so had missed the intriguing action taking place next to him.

"It seems, Lord," Vissarion smilingly declared, "that our dear Rezan is now a man. He’s just produced his seed for the first time!"

(Delhi, India, next morning)

The Islamic Sultan of Delhi, Mahmud Tughluq, was setting off at dawn in a large, well-guarded caravan to visit another great city within his domains. He took with him his oldest son, 9 year-old Ahmed, and the boy’s similarly aged slave and companion, Krishnan. The latter child was a Hindu, a title perhaps ironically derived from the Muslims’ original description of them as the ‘Indus’, namely the people living on the other side of the eponymous mighty river.

Mahmud Tughluq proposed to journey southeast from Delhi to the ancient city of Banaras [also now known as Kashi or Varanasi], where he had commissioned the building of a mosque to sit alongside the many magnificent local Hindu temples, which he had left undisturbed and active. Despite his Muslim beliefs, the Sultan was always liberal about and interested in other faiths, which was a characteristic that had upset Tamerlane’s more fervently Islamic ambassador.

Mahmud Tughluq’s trip was a mixture of business, to check on the progress of the mosque construction and continued efficiency of his local administrators, and pilgrimage, as he wanted to revisit the local sacred sites, and not just those precious to his own Islamic beliefs. By this era, Banaras had attracted pilgrims from near and far in search of divine blessings for about two millennia. According to Hindu belief, the ‘City of Light’, which would one day be temporarily renamed Muhammadabad by one of Tamerlane’s Muslim descendants and was sandwiched between the rivers Varuna and Ashi as they join the Ganges, was the cosmic centre of the universe. By dying there, a believer gained instant salvation. The place was also a great cultural centre, especially in the fields of music, learning and the craft of silk weaving.

Banaras was already old when Rome was nothing more than a small hilltop settlement and had been a well-established, flourishing trade centre when Buddha had come to nearby Sarnath in 500 BC to make his first sermon. The renowned American novelist Mark Twain would later suggest that the city was "older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend, and looks twice as old as all of them put together!"

This autumnal season of the year was the ideal time to make the journey from Delhi to Banaras, as the weather was usually dry, sunny and warm. Winters were often foggy and chilly, whilst spring ushered in the torrential monsoon rains and summer was almost unbearably hot.

Amongst the many interesting sights in Banaras that Mahmud Tughluq was looking forward to showing to his oldest son for the first time were the riverside ghats, which were sets of paved steps leading down to the sacred waters of the beautifully meandering Ganges. Each was associated with a temple, with those dedicated to the more powerful gods of the Hindu pantheon forming a serenely lovely backdrop to the whole wondrous setting.

The Sultan particularly looked forward to showing his son the thousands of Hindu pilgrims who climb down the ghats every dawn to offer salutations to the rising sun god. They stood waist-deep in the sacred Ganges to do so, and then bathed in the holy water. The bathers are convinced that their action will be auspicious for them, as the muddy river will wash away all the accumulated sins of their lives. Later, at dusk, oil lamps, or ‘diyas’, and flowers set afloat also make a fascinating sight.

Amongst the other interesting sights in Banaras that Mahmud Tughluq was looking forward to showing to his oldest son for the first time were the local naked holy men, the ‘Sadhus’. Some of these saintly people ceremonially mutilated their own publicly exposed genitalia, as a demonstration to their gods of their faithful chastity.

(Outside the walls of Baghdad, Mesopotamia [modern Iraq], same time)

Vissarion woke up alongside the still somnolent Tamerlane. On the other side of the conqueror were the sleeping Nicolai and Rahu, whilst Haluk and Rezan had retired together to another bed.

Vissarion could still taste Tamerlane’s cum, which he had lured into his throat from his master’s revitalised cock by skilful and well-practised oral manipulations several hours after the penis concerned had erupted ejaculate into Nicolai’s curvaceous rear. The naked young Georgian therefore now quietly climbed out of bed, trying not to disturb anyone and intent on acquiring a drink to eradicate the salty flavour in his mouth.

Vissarion’s magnificent, nude, gelded form then shivered noticeably, as the autumn nights in Mesopotamia were cold. By the time that the young Georgian had secured his drink and returned to the bed, he was freezing. However, this discomfort did not last for long.

Regardless of Vissarion’s best efforts not to disturb anyone, both Tamerlane and the ever-alert Rahu were now awake. Both could also see, despite the dimness of the tent lamplight, that the returning young Georgian’s divine form was not only shivering but also covered in goose pimples.

The smiling Tamerlane, revelling again in the fine spectacle of his favourite boy’s impeccable physique, lifted up the bearskin bed cover to invite Vissarion to lie once more alongside him. The bearded 60 year-old’s hirsute body was then soon proficiently warming the completely smooth frame of the young Georgian.

As Vissarion experienced Tamerlane’s warm embrace, he felt a little droplet fall from the conqueror’s face onto his sublime body. The shedding of a tear temporarily worried the young Georgian and he asked his master in a whisper "Are you upset about something, Lord?"

"No," Tamerlane answered, as he held Vissarion even closer to him, "it’s just that I love you so much!" The young Georgian rewarded his master’s comment with a kiss and a tightening of his own hold.

At that moment, both Tamerlane and his favourite boy wished that their loving embrace could last forever.

(Nicopolis [modern Nikopol], Bulgaria, shortly afterwards, 28^th September 1396)

Turnovo, the capital of Bulgaria at the time, had fallen to Ottoman control 3 years earlier in 1393. The last Bulgar King, Ivan Shishman, had subsequently been killed by Turkish forces in July 1395, whilst defending Nicopolis, a fortress on the River Danube.

In a reversal of the situation over a year previously, Nicopolis was now occupied by the Muslim Turks and being besieged by the Christian Crusaders. The objective of the latter was to take the fortress, along with that of Dorostolum, and use them as strongholds from which to chase the Ottomans out of Europe.

The Tukish garrison of Nicopolis, however, successfully withstood the siege for a few weeks, which allowed Bayezid I time to come to their relief with an enormous army of about 130,000, including Serbian, Albanian and Arab mercenaries. The Sultan’s forces eventually took up a provocative defensive position, inviting attack, about 4 miles away from the fortress, straddling the local main road and with the flanks protected by ravines.

The imminent battle between the two sides in the vicinity of Nicopolis was to be the first major engagement in which the Ottomans encountered a western European army. The impending clash was also to be one of the most important in history.

At a military council before the battle, King Sigismund I of Hungary advised a cautious approach, proposing use of his own horse-archers in the first attack, with the other Crusader cavalry in reserve, waiting to deliver a decisive later blow against the Ottoman lines. However, the French arrogantly refused any role that denied them the glory of being amongst the first to enter combat.

Ignoring the local advice of the Hungarians, as well as that of the native Bulgars and Wallachians, who all had recent, sobering experience of fighting the Turks, the French, conceitedly fancying their chances in battle against foes who were supposedly mere Islamic infidels, attacked the enemy head on. They charged the centre of the Ottoman forces, initially brushing past the first of the enemy defensive lines, which mainly comprised horse-archers and Arab light cavalry. They then approached the second defences, which consisted of Janissaries.

The first encounter between western European forces and the redoubtable Janissaries was to end in disaster for the former, for they rushed straight into a trap, involving enemy archers well dug-in behind several rows of sharpened wooden stakes. Ottoman arrows rained down on the French Crusaders, causing large numbers of casualties amongst both men and horses. Many of the latter had to be finished off by their riders in order to put the poor, fatally wounded animals out of their misery.

The military pilgrimage against the Ottomans, preached by the Pope, apparently did not have the blessing of the Christian God, whilst the Islamic version of the omnipotent deity had inspired the Muslim forces to victory. Boniface IX’s Crusade was to be the last of its kind in history. The defeat, caused as much by Crusader disorganisation, disunity and selfish bravado as by the worthiness of the Turkish forces and Bayezid I’s leadership, also condemned much of the Balkans, including Bulgaria, to half a millennium of Ottoman rule.

The defeat was also most foreboding for the future of Constantinople.

(Banaras, Sultanate of Delhi, India, same time)

Mahmud Tughluq had already anticipated that 9 year-old Krishnan would wish to follow the customs of his Hindu people and fulfil his own pilgrimage by walking down a ghat to bathe in the Ganges. However, the Sultan had not expected that his same-aged Muslim son would ask to be allowed to accompany his slave and best friend.

Ahmed maturely justified his desire to do so by advising his astonished father that he believed that there was only one God, but that the almighty was worshipped in different manners by different people and that these ways must all be both respected and revered. The 9 year-old felt that, by his action, he would be paying homage to Allah, who just happened to be represented locally by the pantheon of Hindu deities. After considering the matter carefully, Mahmud Tughluq concluded that he could not fault his clever son’s enlightened religious perspective. Nevertheless, the Sultan initially refused to countenance the boy’s request.

Mahmud Tughluq’s initial refusal stemmed not from Islamic distaste for a Muslim performing a ritual of another faith, as his attitude towards religion was too liberal to permit such a stance, but rather from a desire not to affront the sensitivities of local Hindus, who might not be so tolerant. However, the Sultan’s denial was also short-lived, as his young son’s completely disarming smile, which only that of Vissarion could match in the opinion of those who eventually came to know both boys, easily overcame parental objections.

Consequently, as Krishnan subsequently bathed in the sacred Ganges, covered only by a little loincloth, Ahmed, similarly sparsely attired, was standing alongside him, waist-deep in the holy water. Mahmud Tughluq and a large entourage of bodyguards and courtiers, as well as local dignitaries of both Muslim and Hindu faiths, looked on from on top of the adjacent ghat, which had one of the most resplendent riverside temples as an immediate backdrop.

Mahmud Tughluq had had no need to worry about Hindu sensitivities. The key local personalities associated with that religion had fully understood and accepted Ahmed’s desire to perform the ritual with his slave. Their attitude was aided by considering the delightful boy’s wish to be pleasantly symbolic of the peaceful co-existence that currently existed between the two faiths within the Sultanate ruled wisely by his father.

As Mahmud Tughluq proudly watched the serene spectacle, in a setting made even more beautiful by the sight of the two lovely boys bathing in the river, the Sultan silently prayed to his God that such religious harmony and tranquillity would become universal and last for ever.

(Nicopolis [modern Nikopol], Bulgaria, next day, 29^th September 1396)

Bayezid, enraged by the heavy losses to his own Muslim army during the previous day’s horrendously bloody battle, afforded little mercy to Crusader captives. The captured Duke of Burgundy, John the Fearless, would eventually be spared, being ransomed for a large sum. However, most of his fellow Christian prisoners were today vengefully butchered, many having their genitalia sliced away before being disemboweled and beheaded in a lengthy ceremony involving many such sanguine executions.

Nevertheless, a few young Christians did survive, mainly because of their youth, and were instead enslaved. Amongst them was the 16 year-old Bavarian, Johann Schiltberger, who was now to embark on an adventurous life of servitude in the Muslim east.

(Janissary school barracks, Edirne, Ottoman Empire [modern Turkey], a few weeks later)

Zoran tried to console Kiril as much as circumstances would allow, given the continued ever watchfulness of the adult duty eunuch. Word had eventually filtered through to the acemi oglan about Bayezid I’s great victory at Nicopolis against, what would turn out to be, the last Christian Crusade of significance.

The school’s various adult supervisors, as well as those older pupils who had now been completely brainwashed in Janissary ethics and Islamic beliefs, were naturally exultant at the news, especially as their corps had played such a vital role in the victory, albeit at high cost. However, those boys, like Kiril and Zoran, who still possessed a modicum of their former national, Christian personas, felt somewhat different, although they knew better than to display such emotions publicly.

Kiril’s hopes for the liberation of Bulgaria, and his own return to his homeland and family, had sadly been dashed. Meanwhile, Zoran, whose country was still nominally independent, whilst being an Ottoman client state, had been acutely embarrassed to learn about the key role Serbian mercenaries had played in Bayezid I’s immensely important victory.

The boys were, of course, not to know at the time that their loyalties in such matters would someday radically alter, and not just because of the indoctrination that was an integral part of their existence within the acemi oglan. Rather, the advent into their lives of one particular person, who was actually younger than them, would be the main cause of such transformation.

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

John, a pleasant, pretty 6 year-old boy with golden hair and sky blue eyes, was setting out on another unauthorised adventure. The second of what would eventually turn out to be the seven sons of his father, Manuel, did so by initially evading his attendant servants and bodyguards.

Having finished his lessons for the day, and instead of remaining within his palatial quarters, the bored John had somehow cleverly escaped his guardians without being seen. The ever-curious boy had then begun to wander the palace, seeking interesting sights.

Constantinople’s Great Palace was like a city in miniature, being a vast collection of highly impressive buildings, courtyards and gardens. It was close to the ancient hippodrome and adjacent to the great cathedral of Saint Sophia, whose tall, golden dome dominated the city skyline and could be seen glistening in sunlight far out into the Sea of Marmara. The palatial complex sloped down in terraces towards, aside the sea, a large, colonnaded forum, whose towering columns were also prominent from a maritime perspective and which was adorned, like the harbours and quays, with copious statuary.

Continuing astutely to avoid detection by the many officials, soldiers and servants present in the palace, John eventually entered a huge audience hall, or ‘magnaura’, which was currently empty apart from a bearded man sitting on a prominently located throne, with his head buried, apparently despairingly, in his hands. The suddenly worried boy would have recognised the adult form anywhere. Consequently, temporarily forgetting that he was engaged on a forbidden pursuit, the very concerned 6 year-old rushed towards the 46 year-old shouting "Father, are you well?"

Manuel II Palaeologus looked up in surprise to see his lovely second son running towards him. Despite the appalling news that he had just received and appreciation that the boy had again naughtily escaped from his quarters to explore the vast palace, the Byzantine Emperor could not help but smile at the pleasant vision.

Soon afterwards, after mildly scolding the boy for embarking once more, without permission and dangerously alone, on an expedition around the Great Palace, Manuel informed John, who was now sitting on his knee, about the basics of the terrible news that he had just received from Nicopolis. The long hoped for relief from Ottoman encirclement had been dashed. In response, the 6 year-old tried to comfort his parent by suggesting "Don’t worry, father, God is on our side. Constantinople will still be safe from the infidel Turks!"

Manuel II Palaeologus, however, was too wise an Emperor to believe that issues could be so simple and that divine blessing alone could save his great Christian city, whose 2-year blockade by Muslim Turks would surely now continue remorselessly and probably gradually become more effective. He thought that the Ottomans were bound to try to eradicate the clear deficiencies in their navy and that therefore other, more worldly factors would eventually need to intervene to rescue Constantinople.

Manuel II Palaeologus was to prove partly correct in his assumptions. The Emperor was, of course, not presently to know that one of the major factors that would result in the salvation of Constantinople during his lifetime was currently sitting on his knee. He was also understandably ignorant of the fact that the boy must truly have been cherished by the Christian God, as the deity was to grant the child’s wishes in respect of his city for as long as he too lived.

(Bursa, Anatolia, Ottoman Empire [modern Turkey], same time)

The Anatolian city of Bursa, located in the shadow of Mount Uludag, formerly known as Mount Olympos of Mysia, had been the Ottoman’s first capital and had been where Bayezid I had spent much of his boyhood. To the Sultan, the magnificent local palace therefore seemed to be a suitable luxurious refuge for his youngest son to live and continue his education, whilst supremacy over the Balkans was bloodily contested between European Christians and Turkish Muslims.

Bursa, sometimes called the ‘Emerald City’, was renowned for its verdant gardens and parks, in one of which stood the mausoleum of Osman, the founder of the Ottoman dynasty. One of Mehmet’s first actions after arrival was to take Vladimir, as well as the compulsory large protective escort, to pay his respects at his ancestor’s tomb. The boys then ventured to see one of the warm mineral springs for which the environs was also famous and which fed several of the local baths.

Mehmet, as well as Vladimir, would have loved to strip in order to frolic adventurously naked in the warm water and freedom of one of the open-air springs, as opposed to the privacy of a sheltered bath. However, the prince’s supervisory black eunuchs had diplomatically dissuaded the 7 year-old, advising that the act would have been entirely unsuitable for the nominated heir to the Ottoman throne, even if the area had been cleared of the public.

Mehmet was currently now free from hands-on parental control, as his mother had remained in Edirne whilst her husband campaigned further north in the Balkans. The boy’s black eunuchs were therefore now responsible for the princely child’s daily welfare in Anatolia.

Mehmet appreciated that the black eunuchs had been given a degree of authority over him by his parents. However, the clever boy also realised that such command had limits and he intended gradually to test these to the full.

The disgruntled Mehmet currently believed that the authority of his adult gelded servants over his actions should not extend to denying him innocent playful pastimes, even if they were conducted outside the security of the palace. The boy therefore thought that the mineral springs might be a good starting point to demonstrate defiance of his eunuchs’ rulings, although not so soon during his stay in Bursa. The 7 year-old was prepared to bide his time and await a suitable chance to show his independent spirit by sometime secretly bathing naked, with his similarly aged slave, Vladimir, in the warm waters.

Mehmet regarded his transfer to Bursa, from his palatial but highly closeted, parentally controlled existence in Edirne, from which he had rarely been allowed to emerge, as an invitation to indulge in adventures previously denied to him. The boy also had a companion audacious spirit, in the delightful shape of Vladimir. Unfortunately, the 7 year-old’s previous sheltered life had not properly prepared him for how truly dangerous the wider world could be, although he was to remedy this deficiency, albeit in a manner not to his liking.

Mehmet’s daring spirit was someday to lure him into serious trouble.

(Ikhtiman [in modern Bulgaria], Ottoman Empire, 9 months later, Summer, 1397)

Ikhtiman was the penultimate caravan stop on the road north from Edirne to Sofia and, as a result of recent Ottoman conquest, the nature of the town was changing fast. New Islamic buildings were being constructed, whilst many Turkish immigrants came to live and work in the environs, often replacing displaced Bulgars.

The newly built ‘zaviye’, which was a lodging house for members of the Muslim Sufi sect and was later converted into a mosque, was unusually, for a Balkan Ottoman structure, t-shaped. It had actually been constructed by local craftsman, skilled in late Byzantine techniques, and accordingly additionally possessed irregular but attractive exterior brick and stone work. The nearby domed baths, or ‘hamam’, also recently erected and containing walls decorated by colourful pictures, added to the attractions of what was otherwise originally a rather dreary, small provincial town.

Most of the local Bulgar aristocracy, who still lived after the conquest and crushing of the subsequent Crusade, had been deprived of their landholdings, which were instead given to Turks loyal to the Sultan. Many of the native nobles, who might otherwise form a focus for discontent and revolt, had then been dispersed to Ottoman territory in Asian Anatolia.

Bulgars whom the Ottomans found useful were contrastingly nurtured, especially the more prosperous peasants and merchants. The latter became local intermediaries between the new Turkish authorities and the native poor, who comprised the bulk of the population. These collaborating ‘squires’, or ‘chorbadzhi’, in Ikhtiman included an ugly, obese, middle-aged man called Dimitŭr, much of whose prosperity actually stemmed from secretly arranging the smuggling of goods into blockaded Constantinople.

For such illicit trading, Dimitŭr’s new Ottoman overlords would undoubtedly have beheaded him if they had discovered his two-faced perfidy. However, in Constantinople’s beleaguered circumstances, his wares fetched exorbitantly high prices.

Dimitŭr therefore felt that the associated risk was worthwhile. His viewpoint was encouraged by the obvious current inadequacies of the Ottoman navy and the fact that the recent combat against the Crusaders had necessitated the withdrawal, in order to face the new enemy, of many of the Turkish forces blockading Constantinople. The consequent substantial weakening of the city’s isolation had been temporarily increased by the terrible losses of Bayezid I’s forces in the war and subsequent forced defensive military redeployments on the northern borders. However, such a change in circumstances, which made the detection and deterrence of smuggling into the great metropolis even more difficult, was, like the naval inadequacies, likely only to be temporary until the Muslims re-organised. Consequently, the fat merchant proposed to enrich himself whilst the window of opportunity allowed, with his motives owing nothing to any interest in the welfare of beleaguered fellow Christians but everything to his love of money.

Dimitŭr had recently returned to Ikhtiman, having fled when the Crusaders looked as if they might capture the town. He had believed, probably correctly, that the surviving remnants of the Bulgar nobility who would be accompanying the Christian army might not like the chorbadzhi, who had so demonstrably collaborated with the Turks. The fat merchant had been amongst many of his class who had feared aristocratic retribution and therefore run away until Bayezid I’s victory at Nicopolis had made return safe.

Dimitŭr’s central business, as a merchant of agricultural produce, provided him with the core of the goods he smuggled. However, he did not restrict himself to such items, as he supplemented these wares with other types, acquired legitimately at low cost in Bulgaria to be re-sold at high prices in Constantinople’s needy markets. As was soon to be proved, his voracious desire for profit would also encourage him to traffic in the occasional human being.

Dimitŭr shared Tamerlane’s taste in boys, although his parsimony encouraged him to recruit into his service only one such delectable young creature at a time. His current catamite, who acted publicly as his indentured trainee assistant, was the very pretty, fair, blue-eyed Petŭr, who would have run away from the horrible adult long ago to return to his family if he had not been so selfless. However, the 13 year-old knew that his parents, who had thought that they were doing the best for their offspring by apprenticing him to the fat merchant, not knowing the man’s sexual tastes, had enough mouths to feed in the form of his many siblings. The child’s considerately sacrificial attitude had not even changed after he had learnt that he had lost a younger brother to the dreaded devshirmeth.

Petŭr had been in the ugly, fat Dimitŭr’s service for 2 terrible years, during which time his lovely body had suffered much abuse, from the man’s leather crop as much as his short but wide cock. The naked boy was now attending to his master, who had adopted several Turkish lifestyle practices, in the new hamam, helping to wash the similarly nude merchant’s repulsive, obese, hairy body.

As Petŭr performed his distasteful chore, which he considered a complete waste of time because the ugly, fat, hirsute form would invariably quickly return afterwards to its usual sweaty and smelly state, Dimitŭr noticed another patron of the Turkish baths closely eyeing the boy’s delectable frame. The merchant was not someone who liked to miss out on a commercial opportunity. Consequently, he entered into conversation with the obviously lustful spectator, intending eventually to bring the chat discreetly round to selling him some of the 13 year-old’s time, to be spent in a quiet, discreetly steamy corner of the warm, wet and misty hamam.

Dimitŭr was good at concluding profitable commercial transactions and so Petŭr soon found himself in such a quiet, steamy corner. The boy’s hands rested on the wall just above him, whilst he leaned against the brickwork, having adopted a posture, bent slightly at his slim waist, which nicely presented the lustrous curves of his bottom for the imminent attention of his customer’s rampantly large cock.

As Dimitŭr inspected the coins that his fellow bather had presented to him in return for Petŭr’s temporary services, he could hear grunts from nearby, amidst the misty water vapour pervading the atmosphere. Some of the sounds clearly suggested a man’s gradual progression towards ecstatic orgasm, whilst others reflected a boy’s intense discomfort, as a large penis was thrust in and out of his anguished and shamed body.

Nevertheless, Petŭr was also experiencing other emotions because, simultaneous to sodomising him, his current debaucher was masturbating the boy’s own cock, which had consequently become vigorously hard. Then, as the 13 year-old, ultimately impaled on the man’s penis, eventually felt his insides being impregnated with much adult ejaculate, his own divine body began to vibrate ecstatically. Some of his own more youthful sperm, which he had recently managed to start creating, subsequently splashed onto the wall in front of him.

Dimitŭr detected the change in tone of his fellow bather’s grunts, which had reached an apparent crescendo, indicating that he had fulfilled his aim of having his wicked way with Petŭr. The fat but perceptive merchant also noticed an alteration in the boy’s vocal modulations that alerted him to the fact that the young whore had also orgasmed and undoubtedly cum. The sadistic man would, of course, check the scene for visual proof for his belief and then use his harsh crop on the brat’s tender backside for his impertinence in seemingly gaining, without permission, some pleasure from his demeaning assignment and despoiling the new hamam in the process.

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

Having retaken and subdued Baghdad, and beheaded all of Ahmad Jalayir’s supporters who could be found, Tamerlane wintered in the environs of the Mesopotamian city before returning in the Spring, with the bulk of his army, to Samarkand. If the conqueror had been a dutiful husband, he would, of course, have spent the winter months in his capital with the wives he kept there. However, he much preferred spending the cold nights with his lovely and obedient boys alongside him in his bed, rather than his invariably nagging and squabbling spouses.

Tamerlane also did not linger long with his wives in the Samarkand springtime, for he possessed the perfect excuse to depart with his boys and a protective contingent of his best bodyguards. The now 61 year-old conqueror intended to embark upon a pilgrimage, for which he first set off northeast from his capital to go to Tashkent. The latter was another important city within his vast empire, located on the very ancient, arterial trading route from Europe to China called the ‘Silk Road’.

There had been a settlement at the green oasis on the Chirchik River, fed by mountain melt-water, for at least twelve hundred years, although it was not to be known as Tashkent, or ‘stone town’, until the 8th century. Here, within sight of the foothills of the western Tian Shan range, Tamerlane paid his respects to the local head of the city’s main ‘madrassa’.

A ‘madrassa’ is a Muslim school, occasionally residential, attended by both boys and girls, albeit in carefully segregated classes. The curriculum invariably involves the interpretation of the Koran, as well as the frequent requirement to memorise the whole of the holy book. Instruction in the ‘Hadith’, which is a body of highly meaningful stories about Mohammed’s life, plus Islamic history and law, is also generally compulsory. Depending upon the liberality or otherwise of the particular establishment, the likes of literature, languages, mathematics and science might additionally be taught. Some male pupils progress into religious careers, becoming Imams and Mullahs, although many others are often destined for service in government or the judiciary, a practice that Tamerlane respected for the purposes of his local bureaucracies, as long as the graduates remained loyal to him. Hence, the conqueror’s interest in Tashkent’s Islamic educational institution.

Later, Tamerlane sat in the resplendent gardens of the palace of his local governor. He was attended and fussed over by the now 16 year-old Nicolai, 15 year-old Haluk and 14 year-old Rezan, whilst being guarded by the ever-wary ‘Little Limpet’, 14 year-old Rahu.

Tamerlane was watching some of his bodyguards indulge in bouts of ‘Kurash’, which is a type of wrestling. Amongst the competitors, who only wore trousers, cut off just above the knee, were the soldiers’ principal officers, Sibur and 20 year-old Arman. Even Vissarion, who was also now a 20 year-old although he still looked boyishly much younger, managed to drag himself away from writing his master’s lengthy biography to watch the spectacle. The young Georgian joined those many warriors who were not participating but were enjoying both the sport and, at their leader’s expense, the copious array of food and wine generously provided for the spectators.

Arman’s eventual opponent liked the Armenian, an attitude he shared with all of Tamerlane’s other bodyguards, despite the fact that the young man was of different ethnic origin and was unusually youthful to be the holder of a senior military command. The soldiers appreciated the 20 year-old’s well-proven skilled and brave leadership, which was sensibly not reckless but infused instead with genuine interest in the welfare of his troops.

Nevertheless, the clean-shaven Arman’s older, taller and apparently stronger, bearded opponent was today intent on not only beating his young officer but also embarrassing him. The man wanted to do so not out of dislike, spite or a desire for increased personal glory but rather in support of traditional ways. He longed to tell the young Armenian, once he had humiliated the 20 year-old by easily tossing him to defeat, that he might fight better if he grew some facial hair rather than espousing his modernity by daily using a razor. He knew that most of his military colleagues of similar age or above, who were all of similarly conservative attitude, would support his aim.

If the clean-shaven Arman expected any of Tamerlane’s other boys to give him unquestioning support when he now faced his motivated and proud opponent, he was to prove mistaken. As the young slim Armenian tackled the bigger, sturdy warrior, all the 20 year-old could hear from his friends, amidst the loud, raucous shouts from the many spectators, was mischievous criticism.

"You can do better than that, Arman!" and "Pathetic, Arman, you’ll soon be flat out on the ground at this rate!" were typical of the unhelpful remarks uttered from the amused, sweet rosy lips of Nicolai, Haluk, Rezan and Rahu, as the young Armenian struggled with his opponent. Even Tamerlane and, the ultimate betrayal, Vissarion joined in such commentary, albeit associated with much laughter. In fact only Sibur, awaiting his own bout, provided the younger combatant with unflinchingly positive support.

As the red-faced and almost exhausted Arman was eventually entrapped in a strangling headlock from the rear by his apparently superior opponent, the young Armenian managed to glance firmly at the grinning Vissarion and croak "You’ll pay for your attitude, you treacherous Georgian!" He was rewarded by an even broader, disarming smile on the immaculate face of his fellow 20 year-old, plus the retort of "I’ll pay up only if you win!"

Vissarion and Tamerlane then exchanged amused glances. However, their temporary distraction from the fight made them miss the sudden denouement, despite quickly looking back towards the scene when the loud crash of a body thudding onto the grass, plus related vociferous cheering from all around, alerted them to a momentous happening.

To their mutual amazement, Vissarion and Tamerlane now saw Arman still standing, whilst his dazed opponent lay prone at his feet. The young Georgian eunuch and feared conqueror were later to discover that the young Armenian had somehow contrived a manoeuvre that had somersaulted the formidable soldier over his shoulders.

Having being declared the winner of the contest, Arman now considerately helped his recovering and shocked opponent back to his feet, checking that only the man’s pride remained hurt and receiving his generous congratulations in return. The young Armenian, sweat oozing from his very handsome bare upper body, then approached Vissarion in triumph. He had previously furtively sought with his eyes and obtained the nod that indicated that Sibur was happy for his younger lover to enjoy some more intimate time with another very close friend, whilst the older officer fought to maintain his own wrestling reputation.

"As I said," Arman, who was now the one to be smiling, announced as he came close to Vissarion, "you’ll pay for your attitude, you treacherous Georgian, and you’re committed to paying because I won!" The young eunuch glanced again at Tamerlane, whose eyes looked up into the cloudless blue sky above, as if to say ‘Here we go again!’ However, it was the conqueror’s simultaneous broad grin that alerted both 20 year-olds to the fact that they had obtained their master’s permission to indulge in another bout, albeit one not involving combat but rather something much less violent.

Vissarion smiled back at Tamerlane before looking again at Arman, to whom he then extended his hand. "Come on then and let me pay you," the young Georgian declared, not without eager anticipation, to his oldest and best friend. Soon afterwards, the two 20 year-olds disappeared into the innards of the gubernatorial palace, whilst holding hands and being totally unconcerned about the associated, loud, ribald commentary from the conqueror’s observing soldiers. After all, their master’s bodyguards were well accustomed to such scenarios.

"It seems," the conqueror smilingly declared without jealousy to the four boys who were still with him, "that my young Georgian scribe again won’t be writing much of my history today!"