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CHAPTER 4
1240 - 1241 KHIVA
The remains of the caravan straggled into Khiva. Ahmad was mounted on one of the small Steppe ponies used by the Mongols. The pony was far too small for him and his feet were nearly trailing in the dust. He was very angry about the loss of Silver Star. Without Ali to protect him, Ahmad was suddenly aware of his own vulnerability. The remnants of the Saracen guard, however, protected him as they approached the city, the capital of the Khwarizm province, located on a tributary of the River Jaxartes, which empties into the Aral Sea. They were ferried across the slow-flowing Jaxartes, the late afternoon sunshine bathing the river in golden light. Saracen flags and pennants fluttered in the warm breeze and, as they rode into the city, the welcome smell of cooking food filled the air.
All the new sights and sounds could not, however, alleviate Ahmad's mood of depression. He knew he should want Fatima but his thoughts were pervaded by images of the lovely Jamui, he had lost his best friend and protector, who had died to save his life, and he had lost his magnificent horse and all for what? Had he not made the suggestion of the treaty in the first place, he would not be in this godforsaken place, which had nothing to offer him. For the first time in his life, Ahmad felt revulsion at what he was doing, and what he had become - a message-boy for the Mongols.
Khiva, a bustling city, was also one of the major stop-overs on the Silk Road route. Now, however, Ahmad, as a visiting Ambassador, had to pay his respects to the Shah of Khwarizm Province, Shah Faruk al-Din. They arrived in the courtyard of the Palace and dismounted, whilst the camel drivers made their way to the square of the marketplace to deposit what was left of their wares. Ahmad presented himself to the Shah's major-domo, who offered him hospitality, apartments and slaves to attend to his every need, while young Captain Aftab quartered his soldiers in the nearby Saracen barracks. Both mentally and physically exhausted by his travels and glad to be back in civilisation, Ahmad bathed and ate ravenously all the food proffered before retiring for the night, his solitary slumber disturbed by nightmares.
The following morning, presented with new clothing of yellow silk brocade khaftan courtesy of the Shah, he was granted an audience immediately after morning prayers.
Shah Faruk al-Din was a rotund, merry man with sparkling eyes and a reverberating laugh. Ahmad was not in a laughing mood but forced himself into the role of ambassador.
The Shah offered him tea and sweetmeats. "Now," he said, his voice suddenly businesslike, "in what way do you serve Kara Hulugu?"
"I serve Bailio Mas'ud Beg as a tax collector and administrator. Il-Khan Kara Hulugu ordered me to make contact with Nogodar in a bid to unite the warring Mongol factions. I made contact a bit sooner than I anticipated, the murdering devil! His men massacred most of our caravan, stole and spoiled everything! What can you tell me about him?"
"Nogodar is a daring and fearless warrior. His people are of the Karaunah branch of the Kungurat tribe and they have a Tuman (as they call it) of 10,000 warriors, all at Nogodar's command. I have heard that the tribe scoured the Persian provinces before coming to Khiva, and are comprised not only of Mongols but also of renegade Turks, Kurds and so on who joined his army as he raided their homelands. When they came here they laid siege to the city, throwing balls of fire with wooden machines across the river. Our army was seriously outnumbered, so we arranged a truce and offered them land where some of them have now settled nearby. We have hopes that they will move on soon, but for the moment we maintain a somewhat uneasy co-existence. His contingent, as I have said, is large and his contacts with the Great Khan are influential. He is a nephew of Chaghatai and I understand that one of his daughters is soon to marry Kubilai, son of Chingis Khan."
"Indeed." Ahmad replied, pensively chewing a sweetmeat. "Which daughter, may I ask?"
"The one called Jamui."
Ahmad jumped involuntarily at the mention of her name. "Jamui." he whispered, to himself. Aloud, he said "Highness, Jamui is very beautiful."
The Shah's eyebrows went up. "You have seen her? You are indeed fortunate. The Karuanah tribeswomen are renowned for their beauty, but Jamui, I have heard, is beauteous beyond equal. If I read you correctly, you are - interested - in her - am I right?" Ahmad inclined his head in silent agreement, masking the burning desire glittering in his eyes.
"As I feared. Ahmad, forget her. As I have said, she is promised to Kubilai, the son of Chingis Khan and fourth in line to the accession of the Mongol Throne. If you are caught alone anywhere near her ..." the Shah made a throat-cutting gesture. "She will soon be sent to Karakorum to marry, then none of us in these parts will ever see her beauty again."
"Karakorum! The Mongol capital! It is thousands of farsekhs away!" exclaimed Ahmad in perplexity.
"Enough of this talk - she is not for a Saracen man. You want women? I can give you women, but stay away from Jamui. Is that clear?"
"As my Lord advises." responded Ahmad, again inclining his head.
"Anyway, you will now be returning to Bukhara, yes?"
"Ah! That is the other matter I wish to discuss with you, Highness. The Bailio Mas'ud Beg has instructed me to improve your tax collection system. Under a new agreement, all tax collected for the Mongols will be centralised in Bukhara, where Kara Hulugu can himself distribute funds to all his consorting tribes, which will, of course, include Nogodar's tumen. I have been instructed to spend time here to set up an effective system. Send me some intelligent young men from your Madrasa and I will instruct them in local financial administration."
The Shah's eyebrows raised suddenly in surprise. "My Lord Ahmad, the people are already heavily taxed. Any more taxation will be punitive to the economy of the city."
"I think not, Highness. The revenues from this area are extremely low compared with Bukhara. I can assure you my taxation system will be as fair as possible, but I must be permitted to get to work as soon as possible!"
For the first time the Shah felt the power of Ahmad's character, which was underlined by his stance and the darkness of his commanding eyes. Non-co-operation was pointless, he realised. "Very well. I will give you offices in the palace."
"Excellent. Give me ten of your best economics students from the Madrasa and I will train them. I must send a message to the Bailio that I am safe. Could you arrange that this letter ..." he produced a missive from his belt pouch - "is given to the next Mongol Yam post rider going to Bukhara? The marauding bandits rarely attack their own post rider, so my message should arrive safely."
His message was curt and to the point. "Contact made with Nogodar, though many killed in the process. By your command I am instituting a workable and efficient tax system for Shah Faruk al-Din here in Khiva. Please inform my wife that I will return soon. el-Shazam - any communications can be sent by Yam post rider."
Oh, I have one other request." continued Ahmad. "My Saracen Captain was killed in the desert skirmish and I gave a field commission to the young man Aftab. Could your garrison commander confirm his promotion?"
"That will be arranged."
The first of el-Shazam's payments arrived two days later, despite the fact that he was maintaining his daughter at home until her husband returned. Ahmad realised that his communication could not have reached el-Shazam so swiftly. The post riders had passed each other en route.
Ahmad employed students of mathematics from the College of Learning in Khiva. Time passed swiftly and, over a period of six months, he and his assistants carried out a census of every household in the Province, after which tax money was soon rolling into the city's coffers. Shah Faruk gave Ahmad a house and servants. At Ahmad's insistence, Captain Aftab and the remnants of his patrol became his bodyguards. Also as promised by the Shah, Ahmad was not without comfort during the night. By the end of three months, he had taken another wife, Salina.
---oo0oo---
The task took a little longer than had been anticipated but, after a year, with a treasury of money and gems accumulating in the city's coffers, it became time for Ahmad to return to Bukhara with the first instalment of the tribute. Also, for some unknown reason he had received no payment from el-Shazam since the first instalment reached him shortly after he had arrived in Khiva. He wanted to know why. There was also some unfinished business with Vazir to attend to ...
The time came for Ahmad to take his leave of the Shah. "A thousand thanks for your assistance and hospitality, Shah. I have left men in charge who will continue to operate the tax system. From now on, once every month you will arrange to transfer a percentage of your collection to Bukhara, where I will deliver it to the Il-Khan."
---oo0oo---
He returned to his wife, Selina. "Make preparations, we are leaving for Bukhara in the morning!" he said gruffly.
"My husband, this is very sudden! I - I'm not sure I will be able to travel with you." She bowed her head subserviently, waiting for the storm. It came.
"What do you mean you won't be able to travel? You are my wife, you come wherever I go! Now, start packing!"
"My Lord - I haven't been feeling well these last few mornings. I went to see a healer and - my Lord, I am with child!"
Ahmad stopped in his tracks. With child! Soon he would have a son! He turned and walked slowly back towards Selina. "I rejoice at the news, but still I must return immediately to Bukhara. You will return with me!"
---oo0oo---
Mounted on a black Arabian stallion given to him as a gift by the Shah, Ahmad, Selina and his Saracen trooper escort, augmented by some men from the Khiva garrison and led proudly by Captain Aftab, rode out of Khiva and back across the Jaxartes into the desert.
---oo0oo---
From nowhere the Mongols appeared again, charging down a slope and led by Nogodar himself. Ahmad felt a cold knot of fear in the pit of his stomach. The Mongols were armed to the teeth with swords and lance poles, longbows slung round their shoulders, and large quivers full of arrows at each pony's side. Ahmad saw that the yurts had been packed onto carts and were being trundled along at the rear of the tribe. They were obviously on the move again. Remembering the acrimony with which they had parted, Ahmad felt foreboding. Nogodar rode up to him. "So, Saracen, we meet again! I went to the kurultai in Bukhara and it was as you said. Now we have money for food and grain. Incidentally, I have something to show you. Beka!" he shouted. A girl, a baby in her arms, rode up and dismounted. "You remember Beka, no? What she has in her arms is yours! She is yours! Go, Beka! Go to your husband!" and he prodded her hard in her back with his lance pole. Leading her heavily laden pony by its reins, she stumbled but kept her footing. As she stood at Ahmad's horse he could see she was crying. She had been rejected by her own tribe through no fault of her own, but simply that she had not borne a Mongol child. He realised that he had accumulated yet another wife. She mounted her horse and silently sat, awaiting developments. Selina's eyes were burning hatred as she looked steadily at her errant husband. Nogodar spoke again. "Good. We go back to Bukhara now to prepare for journey to Karakorum. You travel with us, no?"
The evening drew in and, before darkness descended, the straggling tribe stopped and made camp for the night. To Ahmad's surprise, Nogodar had a spare yurt erected for his use. Selina and Beka, who were unable to speak each other's languages, wordlessly made the necessary arrangements as Ahmad tended to the animals' needs, then returned to the privacy of the yurt. Beka, who was attending to her baby, looked up as Ahmad stood tall over them. He hunkered down and looked at his child for the first time. The baby was asleep. Black haired, with the ruddy complexion of her Mongol mother, Beka lifted the swaddling robe to reveal to Ahmad that the child was female. "She shall be called Cemile!" proclaimed Ahmad, holding the child at arm's length. Cemile, with a fine sense of occasion, cried and promptly wet the floor. Ahmad returned her to her mother. As he did so, Nogodar walked in unannounced. "You and your wives eat with us!" It was a command, not an invitation, so, after Beka had put the child to bed, they followed Nogodar to the chief's large yurt. Aware of a Mongol custom Ahmad, noticing a bottle-necked churn containing koumiss in a horse-skin at the entrance to the yurt, gave the churn-stick three turns to assist in the fermentation of the drink.
"Ah! It is good! You learn Mongol customs well!" observed Nogodar, slapping Ahmad heartily on the back. Before the meal Nogodar again repeated the ritual of anointing the idols of Natigay and his family, then he sat down on the carpet. "Now, food!" and he clapped his hands. Ahmad's eyes went to the tentflap. She came in and he felt his insides churning, his body quickly taut with desire. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, colourfully dressed in a red cotton shift, her glossy black hair trapped under a scarf. He fought to control his emotions. Jamui walked elegantly towards him, knelt before him and gave him a bowlful of food. As she did so her beautiful green eyes looked deeply into his. She smiled at him and his heart leaped. He was driven half-mad with the sight of her and her nearness and these beautiful green eyes and fair skin. He tried to listen intelligently to Nogodar's conversation and prayed to Allah that he would not notice Ahmad's reactions. Nogodar was speaking. "I take my daughter, Jamui, to Karakorum to marry Kubilai after we parlay some more with Kara Hulugu. You may travel with us to Bukhara. We protect you, no?"
Ahmad felt his stomach tighten at the name of Jamui. He would be near her throughout the journey!
"That is very kind of you, my Lord."
"My daughter Jamui will have to run the finances of Kubilai's court. You have experience of that with Bailio Beg, no?"
"I do, my Lord." conceded Ahmad.
"Very well. Jamui will learn from you of the intricacies of financial administration. You may instruct her while we travel."
"Lord Nogodar does me great honour." Ahmad bowed deeply, his heartbeat racing. He could not believe his good fortune. He would spend time with her, and maybe ...
---oo0oo---
For Ahmad, the journey back to Bukhara passed too quickly. This time there were no adverse weather conditions, and they were travelling under the protection of the marauding bandits. Every evening, when they made camp, Ahmad would go to Jamui's tent and teach her numbers and how to use them. He made her practice writing figures, his large hand over her small one as he helped her trace the outlines. Her nearness made it extremely difficult for him to control his impulses. Jamui, however, was an intelligent woman and, although young, still was old enough to recognise his signs of desire. She saw he was perspiring a lot, even when the night was cool, his respiration more rapid than it should be and his eyes, those penetrating black eyes. She became a little afraid of him but was also strongly attracted to his dark good looks. She always let him do the talking as he instructed her, only pausing to ask salient questions as they occurred to her. But, the night before they reached Bukhara, circumstances contrived against Ahmad. Jamui was working out a problem he had set her about quantities of food that would be necessary to feed an army for so many days when, quite unexpectedly, she gasped.
"What is the matter?" he enquired politely.
"My thumb! A piece of wood from the stylus has entered my thumb and it hurts!" She held it up for him to see and, in the candlelight, Ahmad noticed a small sliver of wood along the thumb's tip. As the need to extract wood from fingers was a fairly common occurrence, he carried his pouch a small utensil for extracting such a sliver. Producing it, he said "Allow me!" and took her hand in his to steady it as he gently tweezered it out, her small fingers instinctively holding his hand. The warmth of her touch inflamed him. She was so small, so vulnerable. He wanted to protect her, to hold her tightly. Blood spurted as the offending object was removed and he suddenly found himself holding her tightly. He heard a small sound behind him, then felt cold steel pricking the nape of his neck.
"Stand back, sister! This Saracen cur will die for his impertinence!"
Ahmad released her and spun to face the intruder, whose sword was already on the downward swing towards Ahmad's neck.
"No, Rodan! Don't hurt him!" Jamui threw herself between him and her furious Mongol brother, deflecting the swinging sword at the last moment before it cut deeply into Ahmad's unprotected neck.
"Get out of the way!" Rodan bellowed, recovering himself and again swinging the sword to plunge it this time into Ahmad's heart.
"No! He was only trying to assist me! See - my thumb!" and she showed Rodan the still oozing wound. "He removed the sliver of wood for me, and I was grateful! Now, go!"
For a moment Rodan stood, undecided. Then, with a growl of annoyance, he sheathed his sword and strode out of the tent.
Ahmad released his pent-up breath sharply in relief. "My Lady, thank you. I must - apologise - for my impulsiveness."
"Ahmad - sit down." She indicated a chair and Ahmad complied. She stood before him, nearly as tall as he was when seated. "Ahmad, I have realised for some time that you are attracted to me. I'm sorry if I have given you any cause for hope. I respect and admire you. You have taught me well and I am grateful."
"My Lady, I ..."
"Please, let me finish. I go now to be married to Kubilai. It is a great honour for our tribe and, when I go to him, I must be pure, and loyal to him alone. I will bear him sons who will be in line for the Khanate. They must be his sons. Do I make myself clear?"
"My Lady, you do. I will go now, and you will never see me again."
"That need not be, Ahmad. Some day in the future, I may yet have need of you."
---oo0oo---
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