Part 3 (2/2)
”I understand that,” answered the magician, bowing down to the ground.
”If, indeed, you understand that, then command that in one moment my beloved servant, the Khan of Aidin, shall stand before me; and, if you cannot do this, perhaps you will manage to transplant yourself at least a thousand miles from me, for my hands can reach even to that extent, and may possibly cause your death!”
”It shall be as you command,” said the magician. ”Will you please to order your slaves to bring a vat of water before me?”
”Shacheddin has tried that,” said Timur, with cold irony. ”Bring water to the magician!”
A vat filled with water was placed before the magician, and he jumped into it, still wearing his clothes.
Timur gazed upon him with doubting condescension, thinking to himself at the same time what kind of death he should bestow upon this deceitful mortal. All at once the water was divided and in place of the magician a fine, tall young man, with hanging locks, stood before him.
It was the Khan of Aidin himself!
Timur rose hastily from his seat, and flew to him as a lioness who discovers her lost cubs. He embraced the young fellow and carried him in his arms to a panther skin, where he told him to be seated before him.
”How did you get here?”
”As an acrobat,” replied the Khan of Aidin, with a smile. ”I escaped disguised as a rope-dancer from your enemy's country!”
CHAPTER III
A Prince as an acrobat! Could there be a greater humiliation? Could there be anything in existence calling for more bitter revenge?
”Which way did you come, and what towns did you touch?” asked Timur of the Khan, who was seated at his feet.
”From Smyrna I escaped as a running footman. The people praised my running to such an extent that I felt compelled to prove how far I could go by running away altogether! In Aleppo I was a monkey-trainer! In Bagdad I turned somersaults! In Damascus I climbed by a rope to the Tower of Minarch! At Angora I put sharp swords into my throat; whilst in Szivasz I swallowed burning coals before the son of the Sultan!”
Timur Lenk counted on his fingers the names of the towns as the Khan of Aidin recapitulated them; Smyrna, Aleppo, Damascus, Bagdad, Angora, Szivasz--not one stone of them should remain! And the people who had been so amused by the acrobatic performances of a prince should bitterly deplore this! Little time should be given them to lament!
”And your children?” asked Timur of his _protege_.
The Khan gave a sigh.
”They are kissing the whips of Bajazet's slaves.”
”They shall not do so long!”
Timur called Shacheddin before him, and had another letter written to the Sultan, taking care that every time his name was mentioned it should appear in a line with his in quite as large-sized letters, and not in different ink; whilst, in accordance with his usual custom, he signed his name at the top, not the bottom, of the page. The contents of the missive were not couched in angry terms, though they were written in a haughty manner.
”Do you not know that the greater portion of Asia is submissive to my sword and my laws? Do you not know that my army reaches from one sea to another, and that the world's rulers stand humbly at my doors imploring to be heard! What is your boast to me? A victory over the Christians?
You have been victorious over them because the swords of the prophet--blessed be Allah!--were in your hands. But who will defend you against me? Your only protector is the Koran, whose commands I obey as you do. Be wise! Do not despise your opponent because he was once insignificant. When the locust grows up, and its wings become red, it attacks the very birds who wished to consume it before!”
Timur's envoys carried the message to Bajazet as quickly as Arab horses could gallop. In it he once more demanded that the captured towns of the Khan of Aidin should be restored to him in peace and quietness, and that his wife and children should be set at liberty, and he suggested that the joint armies of the Sultan and himself should afterwards start together and branch off in different directions, one east, the other west--one to destroy the Pagans, the other the Christians. Timur's messengers returned to his camp with Bajazet's reply, also as swiftly as Arab horses could gallop. Hardly had he opened the letter when Timur's face became flushed with anger. Bajazet's name was written in a different line to his, and was at least an inch larger, whilst Timur's name was similar in size to the rest of the lettering, and was in black ink! The name of the Sultan was in historic characters ornamented with gold. Nor were the contents of the letter couched in mild form. Timur saw here no flattering terms. He was not styled Gurgan, or Djeihangir, but ”the Spoiler of Countries,” ”the Thief of the Desert,” ”the Worm,”
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