Part 5 (2/2)

CHAPTER VII

Timur Lenk did not hasten. He had time to look through the towns in which the Khan of Aidin had been made to turn somersaults. He also had a little account to settle with the Sultan of Egypt. It was a short and gory one. He only took with him the metal gates of the towns--the others he left behind amongst the ruins. He did not leave one stone upon another, but he piled up the heads of the inhabitants in heaps.

This was his style of architecture!

When Damascus was burnt down, the tops of the burning cypresses and cedars and the smoking resin perfumed the plain with their odour ten miles around. Of the holy town, only one minaret was left standing. It was that of the altar of the Ommiads, which was covered with lead, and the metal from it streamed down into the street. The top being of wood, remained standing. It was this tower which the Khan of Aidin had ascended by means of ropes, and, according to the Turkish saying, when the day of resurrection comes, it will be here that the Lord will descend and give judgment as to life and death.

Whilst Bajazet was collecting his lightning forces, Tamerlan had time to destroy the three Iron provinces, and as many regiments, together with the Egyptian Mameluks. The heroic Syrians could not bar his way, and he made them fly like a cloud of mosquitos or a flock of swallows. Kings disappeared before him. The only one who escaped--and that by mere chance--was _Ferndzs_. In token of homage he sent gifts to the great Shah, nine, in number, of every kind, according to the religious system of counting in vogue with the Tartars: nine horses, nine camels, nine female slaves, and eight men slaves. Timur understood by this that it was intended to represent the sender himself as a ninth fraction, and for this reason he showed him mercy. Drunk with victory, thirsting for revenge, and loaded with treasure, Timur left Syria to meet his mightiest opponent, to whom he had now given time for preparation; and in the 804th year of the Hedjir, on a bright summer's day, he crossed the Araxes river!

Bajazet, the ”lightning,” dreamt a waking dream of revenge as he sat by Maria's side, and caused his forces to be collected together to await his opponent's arrival on to the battlefield which was to decide the fate of the world. Under such a roof of sweet delight no one could talk of battles. Here even the Sultan did not deplore his lost son; Maria did not even know that he was the father of sons--men like himself, but minus grey beards! The Sultana found in her returned husband a return of all her happiness, and at this joyful moment she remembered the promise he had made to her before his departure, ”Whatever your desire may be, it shall be fulfilled.” And when her husband asked of her ”What do you desire?” she replied:

”Oh! my dear Djildirim, when will you next start against the _Dzsins_?”

”This year, perhaps this very month.”

”Oh! how I should like to see a living _Dzsin_.”

”That is impossible. A _Dzsin_ is not a doll, my darling. Do you not know, from the tales your women tell you daily, that if you tread upon a talisman you will force a spirit to appear who will be always at your bidding, but who will rend you asunder if you do not keep him continually employed?”

But she was so delighted with this new idea that she would not allow herself to forget it for a moment.

Next day she said to Bajazet, ”Bring me a _Dzsin_, and be here to order him about for me!”

”It is impossible. _Dzsins_ do not tolerate the presence of another man near a woman.”

”What idiots the _Dzsins_ must be!”

The third day she said to Bajazet: ”My lightning, my love, I have a desire which I want you to fulfil.”

”It is already fulfilled, if you really desire it.”

”What I wish is this, that when you next start against the _Dzsins_ you will take me with you.”

Oh! tempting heart of woman!

”My morning star, my darling, what would you do in the midst of battle?

It is a cruel tempest, where lightning rages. The glittering stars have no place there. The thoughts of your heart are alluring songs heard amidst the thunder and tempest of the battle. There is no room there for your sweet soul. If you pa.s.s a mown meadow, you weep over every flower which has been trampled under foot. The battle blood flows from the cut-down human flowers. How could you see this? You would die at the sight of it.”

But women do not give way.

”I want to see how thousands of Dzsins melt away at your glance; to note how they fall to the ground when you only look at them. Does not the song say this? 'They are numerous and come in great numbers. Their noise, like thunder, makes heaven tremble. My Djildirim steps forward, and they fall to the ground, and their voices fill h.e.l.l.' Does not the song say, 'The opponents' leader is a metal idol, but Bajazet is the lightning, and the lightning melts the metal.' Does not the song tell the truth?”

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