Hope of Earth

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Hope of Earth Page 45

by Piers Anthony


  “Lord, I know little of royal Mongol attire, let alone the requirements of the Moslem faith. If there could be someone to instruct me, at first—”

  “It will be done. Anything else?”

  “No, Lord. I shall be happy to rejoin my wife now.”

  “That is not possible.”

  Ned stared at the khan, not knowing what to make of this.

  Toqtamish smiled. “No, nothing has happened to her. Nothing will. She must be married according to Moslem rites. She has therefore gone into seclusion until the wedding. You will see her then.”

  Ned realized that any protest would be dangerous. He nodded.

  The khan snapped his fingers. A servant appeared. “Conduct this man to my apartment and see to his comfort.”

  The servant nodded, and waited for Ned. Ned bowed again to the khan and backed away. When the khan averted his gaze, tacitly recognizing that the visitor was now beyond his awareness, Ned crossed to the servant, and followed him out the back. He wasn’t sure what would happen to his sword and dagger, but knew that they would be attended to.

  The servant brought him to an elegant tent suite in the city. The Mongols simply didn’t use buildings the way others did; they were always ready to move on at short notice. But that did not mean that the royal ones suffered privation. This tent was the virtual equivalent of a palace wing. “Sahara will see to your needs,” he said, turning away.

  A strikingly lovely young woman of Mongol stock appeared. “You are the new valet?” she inquired in a dulcet tone.

  “Yes. You are Sahara? I will need instruction in that office, and in the Moslem faith.” Ned remained bemused at his sudden conversion, but with Wildflower’s life at stake he had had no choice. Now he would have to follow through, for he would not cheat in this, however forced the decision had been.

  “First you must dress appropriately. The khan must not be seen in the company of a peasant.”

  “These clothes are all I have with me.”

  “I will attend to it. This way.”

  He followed her through several corridors walled off by hanging carpets and tapestries until they came to a huge bronze tub decorated with the stylized Mongol representations of predators and birds of prey. Ned looked into the hot water, uncertain where to go next.

  “This is for you,” Sahara said. “I will take your old robes.”

  “But this—this must be the khan’s bath,” he protested.

  “It is. So you had better be finished before he returns.”

  “But I can’t use his bath!”

  She eyed him. “I suppose I could wash you standing beside it, but that would not be as effective. I prefer to wash you in it.”

  “Wash me in it!” he exclaimed. “I don’t want you present.”

  “Khan’s orders,” she said. “It would not be wise to evade them.”

  “You’re sure? That he wants this?”

  “Quite sure, Lord Valet.”

  Still he hesitated. “Who are you? I mean, what is your position?”

  “I am one of the wider pool of women who serve the khan in whatever manner he wishes.”

  “A concubine?”

  She frowned. “Unfortunately, I did not achieve that honor. I am a dancer who learned the necessary arts, but was chosen for other purposes. But I am glad to serve in whatever other manner he chooses. Now he has decreed that I prepare you and instruct you in the rudiments of the position to which you have been appointed.”

  “Rudiments? I should learn it properly.”

  “There is no need. His regular staff will attend to it.”

  “But—”

  “You are of course aware that you hold this position in name only. The khan wishes merely to converse with you when he finds it convenient.”

  Evidently the instructions had been a good deal more detailed than had seemed possible. “Then I must trust you to guide me correctly. But is it really necessary that you attend to me in this particular fashion?”

  “Yes.”

  It occurred to him that the khan was testing him. Did the Mongol want him to be diverted by this comely woman, and change his mind about remarrying Wildflower? That would be a convenient way to salvage a princess from marriage to an infidel. But the very notion of hurting Wildflower that way appalled him. So he would brave the khan’s temptation and remain true.

  He stripped his clothing efficiently and stepped into the huge bath. He had to admit it was a pleasure, for he was grimy from travel, and unlike many, he did prefer cleanliness. It was probably a legacy of Flo’s attitude in that respect. He sank into the water, reveling in its comfort. There was a broad stone bench set at a level to allow him to sit with the water up to his chest.

  Sahara disappeared with his old clothing, then reappeared with what looked like a costly robe. She set this on a counter. Then she stood before the bath and began to remove her own clothing.

  Ned was about to ask her what she was doing, but feared she would give an honest answer, so stifled it. He proceeded to wash himself, staying mostly submerged.

  Sahara stood directly before him, stripping to the waist so that her large and well formed breasts were prominent. Then she stripped the rest of the way, and turned around so that he could see every part of her. He looked, determined not to give her or the khan the satisfaction of making him retreat, figuratively. She was as appealing a figure of a woman as he had ever seen. Even Wona had not been this generously endowed. The khan was certainly able to get the best.

  “Now I will wash you,” she said, and stepped into the bath with him.

  How far would she take it? Just as far as he allowed, he suspected. So he tried to ignore the provocation and act as if this were routine.

  She stopped before him, her breasts floating. She reached out and massaged his shoulders and neck. Her touch was expert, and the sensation was wonderful. Then she moved around behind him and went over his back.

  “You know your business,” he murmured.

  “Yes.” She drew herself close to him so that her slick soft breasts pressed against his back, and reached around to massage his chest. She lifted her legs and sat behind him on the bench, her firm thighs embracing his hips.

  Ned had controlled his reactions somewhat up till now, but this contact overwhelmed him, and he was suddenly fully aroused. Fortunately the water concealed his state.

  Her hands worked down to massage his belly. He remained still and silent, determined not to protest.

  Then her hands found his member, and grasped it with authority. Now there was no secret; she knew what she had accomplished. “Would you like to face me?” she inquired in his ear. “I will do whatever you wish.”

  “I wish simply to finish this bath and get dressed.” It required effort to keep his voice level.

  “Would you prefer to have me on a bed? I serve completely at your convenience.”

  “I am a married man. I prefer to be only with my wife, in that manner.”

  “Your wife is surely fortunate.” She finished washing him, and allowed him to emerge from the bath. His erection had not diminished, but she took no further note of it as she used towels to dry him. He had either passed a test—or failed it.

  The robe was quite warm and comfortable. Sahara tied his belt and brushed out his hair, making him presentable. Just in time, for now the khan arrived.

  The woman disappeared. Ned, uncertain what to do, followed his best judgment. “Lord, may I help you with your clothing?”

  “Don’t bother. The staff already knows you are to be my companion, not a servant. Only in public will you stand ready to carry my coat.”

  “I hope I can live up to your expectation.”

  The khan led the way through a bewildering maze of interconnecting carpeted corridors and tents until they came to another pavilion. “Now we shall eat.” Without seeming signal, servitors arrived with steaming platters. The khan indicated the table where they were being set. “You will sit always at the foot. In public you will sample my f
ood first, but in private don’t bother. I have many guards against poisoning.”

  “As you wish, Lord.”

  “The title—only in public. Likewise speech: You need not wait to be spoken to. If there are things you feel I should know, mention them, and I will decline if I wish.”

  Ned experimented. “This seems like unusual favor for a stranger whose presence is imposed by the whim of a willful girl.”

  Toqtamish laughed. “I think I like you already. I tell you privately: I was close to Wildflower’s mother, who did me many favors, and I was sorely grieved by her death. Her daughter favors her, as I remember her as we both emerged from childhood, and I can deny her nothing within reason. Both seem to have had good judgment in people.”

  “My family felt that Wildflower was a good match for me. They are surely correct.”

  “Ah—so it was an arranged liaison.”

  “To a degree.”

  “You have reservations?”

  Ned hesitated, and caught a sharp look from the khan. “I dislike the notion of marrying for social or political advantage, but I seem to be guilty of it. I am here because of it.”

  “But my cousin surely loves you.”

  “She is fifteen. Love comes readily to that age.”

  “This interests me. A lovely young princess throws herself at you, and you hesitate?”

  “I hesitate to use her for commercial purpose. I respect her too much for that.”

  “I have one chief wife, a dozen secondary wives, and I have lost count of the number of concubines. All of them came to me for political or commercial advantage. I have no problem with it, so long as they are beautiful, accommodating, and loyal.”

  “You are the khan.”

  Toqtamish nodded. “A fair answer. Why did you not take Sahara?”

  Ned had seen no dialogue between the woman and the khan, yet clearly the khan knew what had happened. “I am married.”

  “She knows that. She would be discreet.”

  “I would die before I would be false to my wife.”

  “You could have Sahara as a second wife.”

  Ned felt a chill. This was potentially considerable mischief. “Is this your desire?”

  “Is it yours?”

  This remained treacherous ground. “I mean no affront to your hospitality or to the charms of Sahara, who tempted me sorely. But a Christian takes only one wife.”

  “You are no longer a Christian.”

  Ned had lost track of that, in the welter of new impressions. “True. Though as yet I know too little of my new faith.”

  “Sahara will instruct you. She is well versed in scripture and protocol. By Moslem law and custom, you are not yet married to Wildflower.”

  “By Christian law and custom I was married to her, and my loyalty to her remains. I would not hurt her for anything.”

  “Neither would I. That is one reason you are here, instead of without your head.” The khan made a gesture, indicating that the matter was of little consequence. “But you must marry her by Moslem custom, if you are to have royal favor.”

  “I am prepared to do that. Once I have mastered the requirements.”

  “She made a sacrifice, indulging your Christian ritual. She knew she was agreeing to prostitute herself. But for you, she was willing.”

  “She is no prostitute!”

  “I speak figuratively. She is a princess. But Mongol passions run strong.” Toqtamish shrugged. “Speak to me of strategy.”

  Ned did not question this abrupt change. He plunged in. “You have recently won your kingdom, because of the help of Timur. If you could organize and fight as he does, you could greatly magnify your domain.”

  The khan’s interest quickened. “How so?”

  “To your west is the khanate of Kipchak, the Golden Horde, whose domain is greater than yours. You can make it yours, if you act expediently, thus reunifying the territory of your forebears.”

  “I am not so great a fool as to tackle a superior army. The territory would be unified at my expense, and my head would top a pyramid of heads of my family and supporters.” He smiled grimly. “I have had some experience against superior armies, as you know.”

  “The key term is expediency,” Ned clarified. “There is a time to wait, and a time to act. I believe that you have an opportunity now that will be lost if you delay. The Golden Horde is struggling to quell the revolt of its Russian vassals. Khan Mamai has his hands full at the moment.”

  “Mamai is a Mongol and a kinsman.”

  “So were the chiefs you vanquished in order to assume your present position.”

  “I see you do understand politics. But Mamai is more competent than those who governed the White Horde.”

  “He can defeat the Russians. He can defeat the White Horde. He can not defeat Timur. He can not defeat any combination of those forces. If you move against him now, coordinating with the Russians, you can prevail. But you must be careful. You must make certain that Timur approves your effort. You must never cross Timur.”

  “Because he is my benefactor.”

  “Yes. And because he is matchless in the field.”

  “I see we understand each other. Even so, the resources of the Golden Horde are greater than mine.”

  “Yes. You must not meet it directly in battle, yet. You must have patience, and wear it down, while the Russians continue to distract it. You must have military forces that are responsive in the manner of Timur’s forces. You must practice the art of strategic retreat, though it may look like cowardice.”

  “I am no coward!”

  “Neither was Genghis Khan. He was master of strategic retreat. When his enemies thought they had prevailed, and lost their formation, he turned and destroyed them. He did not care what they thought at the time; he made them fools.”

  “I like the way you think. We will speak more of this at another hour.” Toqtamish snapped his fingers, and in a moment an extremely comely young woman appeared, evidently a concubine.

  “I should depart,” Ned said.

  The khan didn’t answer. A hand touched Ned’s elbow, making him jump. It was Sahara.

  He followed her back to the bath, and beyond it to a separate chamber. “This will be yours for the duration. Take your ease, but if this bell rings, report immediately to the khan’s chamber.” She gave him a sharp glance. “Immediately.”

  “I understand.” He had seen how quickly others had responded. If he was in dishabille, he would have to repair it as he could on the run.

  “And for anything you require, I will serve. Do you prefer me with you, or in my own chamber?”

  “Where is your chamber?”

  She indicated a smaller one opening onto his from the east. Mongol women were always on the east, and the men on the west. “I will always be at your service, in any way you desire.”

  He was getting on top of this situation. “You understand, Sahara, that though I find you desirable, I do not wish to use you in any way other than ordinary. I am married.”

  “I understand.”

  “Then retire to your own chamber. But if you feel there is something of which I should be advised—”

  “Of course.” She hesitated. “May I comment?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think Wildflower is marrying well.” Then she turned and entered her chamber.

  Ned found himself quite pleased by her flattery. It meant that she appreciated his forbearance. She had to accommodate him in any way he wished, but understood his stance. Perhaps she had a man of her own, for whom she preferred to reserve her favors, if given a choice.

  But in a moment she emerged. “It is time for the ablution.”

  “The what?”

  “We Moslems pray to Allah five times a day.”

  Now he made the connection. “Of course.”

  She showed him the ritual posture, wherein each person of the true faith bowed in the direction of Mecca, the Moslem holy city, getting down on knees and hands, touching the head to the gr
ound. He had seen it done, but it was different actually doing it. But the physical forms were the simplest to follow; it was the intellectual forms he considered to be the challenge.

  Thereafter there were many conferences, and the khan seemed to be increasingly influenced by what Ned had to say. He formulated careful plans for a sustained campaign against the Golden Horde, but did not announce them. Now was the time for quiet preparations, the training of good officers and good troops, and the acquisition of accurate information on the disposition of the enemy.

  Betweentimes, Sahara acquainted him with the intellectual aspects of the Moslem faith and practice. She took him to elders of the faith, who explained the nuances and showed him the sacred texts. Ned found himself enjoying this. He loved to learn, and there was much to learn here. Much of the Moslem faith was similar to the Christian faith, for both derived from the foundation of Judaism. But while the Christians believed Jesus Christ to be the Savior, the Moslems believed him to be merely another prophet, while Mohammed was the true prophet. Thus Ned did not have to renounce his faith, merely amend it.

  Then came the day for Ned’s Moslem wedding. It was to be a royal ceremony, with full honors. Ned hesitated to demur, though he would have preferred something less conspicuous. He just wanted to get back together with Wildflower, for he felt most comfortable with her.

  The bell sounded. Ned hastened, half-dressed, to attend the khan. The man was lying comfortably amidst the fair nude torsos of several concubines, but seemed to take no note of them. “Something I thought you should know,” he said without preamble. “Wildflower offered her life on your behalf.”

  “But she had no need to—”

  “Ah, but she did. I had forbidden her to marry you. She disobeyed me, then came to pay the penalty.”

  “But she indicated to us that you had acceded!”

  The khan nodded. “She truly loves you, Ned. When I intimated that I might have you killed, she intimated that she would die the hour after you did. She is a Mongol; she was not bluffing. So I made the best of it, and gave you the chance to prove yourself. You have done so. But you owe it to her. Remember that.”

  “I shall.” Indeed, Ned was shaken. He had had no idea that Wildflower had done such a thing.

 

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