by L. Todd Wood
As she lay thinking, one of the older women pulled the veil away from her bed and told her to stand up and remove her clothes. Roopa was not ashamed and did so. She wondered what this was all about. The woman pushed her to the bed on her back and forcibly spread her legs. She then stuck two fingers deep inside of her and felt her. Roopa shrieked. Just a quickly the woman removed her hand.
“You are lucky! You are fresh! Otherwise, you would be going to the brothel like some of the other girls. Now you can get dressed.” The woman left her alone.
Sultan Masud was dressed in strikingly colorful robes and a special turban. He stood out from all those hovering around him. He was a timid man. He had inherited an empire that was falling apart. They had lost the western lands decades ago. Now the Ghurids were threatening from the north. He did not have the warrior spirit and command of military tactics and strategy that his predecessors had. He needed help in not just saving his own skin but also in perpetuating the empire. To that end, he needed weapons, and he needed soldiers, lots of them. He was happy that his son Shirzad had returned with such plunder and treasure from India. He was especially grateful for the fresh, young forced recruits and captured soldiers. After a period of training, his army would be greatly strengthened.
His son was with him now. He was not close to him. He did not know how to relate to him, because his own father had not taken a strong interest in him either. It was a tense relationship. He had however told his son he was pleased with his actions. It must have been a surprise upon his return to find his father had been elevated to sultan of the empire. That must have been difficult. His son was standing behind him. He felt as if there was something Shirzad wanted to say to him but would not. So be it, thought Masud.
One of his attendants came up to Masud and whispered in his ear. The women were coming for his pleasure. Masud’s spirits lifted. He loved women. But not for pleasure. He loved the way they walked and talked. They were creatures of beauty. He loved beauty. He had a wife, but she was only for reproduction, and he had accomplished that task years ago. He didn’t need to do it again. No, he got his pleasure from the opposite sex. He had plenty of little boys who saw to it that he was quite satisfied. Of course not many people knew this about him, only his closes attendants. He kept his private life very private.
He saw the girls enter the room then the court company parted so he could have a full view. There were about twenty of them. All were very young. All very beautiful.
He had to go through the motions, he thought. He smiled and put on a hungry manly face.
“Remove their veils,” he ordered.
He walked down the line and inspected them one at a time. They were all virgins he was told. Each was more beautiful than the last. All of them would make any man very happy. Then he reached Roopa.
Her beauty captivated him. She was perfect. Her eyes sparkled like the blue ocean. He had seen it once as a child. The contrast with her dark, silky hair and flawless skin was breathtaking.
She will bring me many weapons and treasure, he thought.
Roopa was terrified. She felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter as she entered the room. What would become of her? Was she to be a concubine for the sultan? It was for someone, but who? Then she saw him: the man who had captured her. Their eyes met once she removed the veil. She was sure he recognized her. Somehow she felt better. He would help her. She hoped so anyway.
Shirzad saw her as well. Instantly he became troubled and excited at the same time. She was mesmerizing, a princess fit for a prince. But what to do? All he could do was wait and see what his father would say. He saw him react the moment he saw her, and Shirzad waited for Allah to show him the way forward.
Masud looked around the room for Shirzad. When he caught sight of him, he motioned for him to come over so they could speak.
“Take them all to Jerusalem and sell them. Trade them for weapons.” He looked at Roopa. “I expect a great treasure for this creature.”
Shirzad was relieved. He still had time to find a way to make Roopa his own.
Chapter Five
The caravan was massive. Wagon after wagon was carrying goods to be sold in the Middle East. Surrounding them were the soldiers, hundreds of them, positioned in a formation around the caravan. The cargo was very valuable. The Ghaznivids could not let it fall into the wrong hands or be stolen. The fate of the empire depended on it.
Shirzad controlled every movement of the convoy. He was pleased to have the trust of his father. He would do his job well and bring back enough weapons to save his kingdom. Perhaps they could even attempt to retake Persia, although that remained to be seen. Perhaps that would be his legacy and not his father’s. His father’s ascension to the throne had whetted his appetite for power. Shirzad dreamed of it. He could taste it.
The sugar was the main cargo to be guarded. The sweet salt would bring the most money. Shirzad had a great deal of the finished loaves, thanks to his cunning and courage. They struck at exactly the right time in India as he had planned. It was a perfect operation. The Indian kings never saw it coming. That was the way he liked it, complete surprise. It was a force multiplier second to none. He had learned this from his grandfather when he was a child. They often spoke of military tactics.
Gold and other precious metals were hidden in the caravan’s wagons. These were stashed along with all of the other valuables stolen on the raid on the subcontinent. Goods produced in Ghazni finished out the cargo; these were to be used for trading, and included sheepskin coats and the like. The caravan was very valuable indeed.
The girls were in two different wagons, which were guarded well. They rode in much better comfort than on their way to Ghazni. Shirzad pitied them for their future, but it was their fate in life. They seemed resigned to this destiny.
His thoughts always returned to Roopa.
They had been on the road for weeks now and were approaching what is now known as Baghdad. The confluence of the Tigris and Euphrates lay ahead. It was a rich area, full of water, fruits, and other crops. They would eat well here; he knew the soldiers were looking forward to this.
Shirzad had not spoken to her yet, but he caught her looking at him many times as he rode by. He was sure she saw him looking as well. He wanted to be with her. He made up his mind, tonight he would talk to her, once the expedition stopped for the night.
They camped near a village that had access to water. The soldiers rounded up food and drink from the local population. They were especially wary of irritating the local militia, so they paid for what they took. Shirzad did not have enough of a force to take on an army. He wanted to get through this territory as stealthily as possible. The peace with the Seljuqs was important to his kingdom. The Ghaznavids needed to become stronger before they could take on their old antagonists and regain their territories to the west.
The sun set and the temperature dropped. It was cold now. The women were lodged in their tents with soldiers guarding them.
There was another man who had been watching Roopa. He was the appointed leader of one of the Indian brigades that had been captured. He was also Shirzad’s brother, Arslan. Arslan knew it was dangerous but he could not help himself . He too watched Roopa at every turn. He was a savage man and did not care about the consequences. He wanted her. He was in charge of the group of soldiers who were guarding the girls. As the light disappeared from the sky, he stood near the tent and waited. He told his subordinates to ignore what was about to happen.
When she left the tent to relieve herself for the night in the desert, he followed.
There was an obvious conflict between the male heirs of the Ghaznavid dynasty. There was no love or trust lost between them. The father Masud was a weak man. He would not last long in power, and the empire was at risk. The sons knew this. They did not love him, and they wanted power for themselves, now that their father had been elevated due to the sudden death of his predecessor.
The sons had always been competitors, but now this competition was
being taken to the next level. Now they competed for the future chance at absolute authority. The relationship between them was tense and distrustful.
Arslan walked silently through the desert towards where he had seen Roopa stroll into the night. It was time. He was excited. He could already feel what it would be like to take her. Nothing would stop him now.
He saw her stand in the desert. She turned toward him. Arslan ducked down into a wadi that was between them and waited.
As she walked near him, oblivious to his position, he pounced. He put his hand over her mouth and pushed her down to the ground. She tried to scream but no sound could get past his hand. He slammed her facedown into the sand. His hand reached up her dress and felt her. She tried to scream again to no avail.
She did however manage to kick her leg up towards her attacker and hit him in the groin. His grip loosened for a moment. Then she was able to scream.
Shirzad walked towards her tent and asked the guard outside to go and find the female attendant guarding the girls. He wanted to speak to Roopa.
The guard was nervous. He was loyal to Arslan. He ducked inside the tent and stalled for time then returned outside.
“Your Highness, the girl Roopa is not here, she took a walk in the desert.” He gestured with his eyes to convey some hidden meaning. Shirzad took it to mean that she was attending to her personal business and smiled as he turned to leave. Then he heard a woman scream in terror. He rushed in the direction of the noise, sword drawn.
Arslan slammed the girl’s head down into the sand again. Now he would hurt her as well. His hand again went up her skirt to her backside. Now he would sodomize her. She screamed again. He would take her here so as not to spoil the merchandise. He pushed up her skirt and spread her legs as he simultaneously lifted his robe. She would pay for hurting him.
Shirzad bounded toward the screams and saw a man in a white robe on top of a girl in the sand. With murder in his eyes, he pulled the attacker off his prey and reared back his sword, preparing to strike.
“Arslan,” Shirzad cried as he recognized his brother. He lowered his sword and tried to catch his breath. His younger brother was shocked as well and scurried away in the darkness.
Shirzad carried Roopa back to her tent. She was weeping. Through her tears, he could still see her beauty in the moonlight. He was entranced. It was true what they say, he thought. Men love with their eyes, women with their hearts. And he was definitely in love. She felt good in his arms. She clung to him. He did not want to let her go; however, he released her near her temporary dwelling and let her walk the rest of the way. She turned to look at him before entering the tent. They did not speak but looked at each other once more. They had an understanding.
The next morning they left the mountains and descended into a rolling plain covered in grasses. Slowly the vegetation became more lush as they made their way towards the valley between the infamous Tigris and Euphrates rivers. The Garden of Eden opened before them. To the south was a vast marshland, which had receded somewhat since the rains stopped. To the north was a continuation of the mountain chain that they had exited; it made its way up into what is now known as Turkey.
Roopa was worried the girls, including her, would be sold into prostitution at one of the cities en route to Jerusalem. The Silk Road was a famous thoroughfare, and the travelers dreamed of girls in the cities after weeks in the desert. Over the long trip, she had grown and her beauty increased. She had seen the men look at her when they passed through a populated area. Perhaps they think they can get more for us in Jerusalem.
The weather was changing. It was getting colder and colder, especially the nights. Roopa wrapped herself in the many warm blankets she was provided as they traveled during the day. She dreamed of Shirzad, she knew his name now. They had not spoken yet, but ever since that evening, they often shared knowing looks. The connection between them was unmistakable.
The convoy stopped near the Issos River to camp earlier than their usual time. It was an offshoot of the Tigris. The sun was still high in the sky. The soldiers seemed excited. Once the camp was set up, they remounted their horses and rode a short distance to the banks of the river. There they dismounted and began to collect a black, liquid substance oozing from the ground around the banks of the Issos. Bitumen had been used for thousands of years in the fertile crescent of ancient Babylon. Nowhere on Earth was the substance more prevalent than here in its natural form bubbling out of the ground. It was the early version of today’s asphalt, a thick petroleum tar embedded with bits of rock.
Today the soldiers were using it to coat their armor, repair their weapons, and shine their swords. However, elsewhere in the Middle East it was already being distilled and refined for use as fuel. It was also used to line baskets, for medical purposes, lighting, early hand grenades, other flammable weapons, and to lube wagons. It was also extremely useful as an adhesive. The Tower of Babel had been held together with bitumen. King Nebuchadnezzar used it to build an entire city, paving the early roads and such. It was even used to prepare the dead for burial, to embalm the body. The Persian word for bitumen was moom, hence the word mummy.
Today the soldiers were content with just their equipment repairs.
Roopa watched the sun set from the sky as she shivered in the cold. She wished she wasn’t alone.
Shirzad sat alone on his horse, overlooking the valley ahead of him. He could look south and barely make out the beginning of the marshlands created over time by the mountain runoff. He burned with desire for Roopa. She was always on his mind. It angered him. His father still controlled him by demanding he sell her and not take her for his own. He dreamed of holding her body, touching her, and of her touching him. He dreamed of kissing her, of having her.
Again, the anger rose within him. He was the heir to the throne! He should act like it. He knew his father was weak; however, he needed to build up more loyalty within the army before he made any move against his father. And Arslan, he didn’t trust Arslan at all. He would need to deal with him first. He was sure Arslan would try to tell a different tale to his father than what actually happened the other night. Yes, he would deal with Arslan in due time.
But Roopa! What to do. I will be sultan! I will defeat my enemies! And I will take what I want! I will have her soon, he thought to himself.
The following days turned into weeks as they made their way across Mesopotamia and into the desert. During the day, the temperature rose, but at night it dropped and made the evenings very uncomfortable. The daily change in conditions challenged everyone. The trip was brutal, and they were exhausted as they entered Assyria on their way to Jerusalem.
Chapter Six
The convoy made their way west and eventually passed to the north of the Dead Sea, the lowest point of water in the world. The environment they had been living in all of their lives slowly began to change. Soon, they entered strange forests of olive, almond, and pine trees. The terrain became rolling hills as the Judean Mountains made their presence known. Shirzad could feel the excitement building among his troops as the thought of finally reaching Jerusalem became closer to reality. They dreamed of wealth and glory, returning to their kingdom with weapons and treasure. Shirzad dreamed of becoming the sultan of the empire.
Eventually, the forests abruptly stopped. They entered an area obviously cleared by human hands. It was like walking out of a darkened closet. In the distance, they could see the city walls on the southern finger of a plateau. Over the centuries, the people had cleared the land in a wider and wider circle around Jerusalem. The erosion that followed spurred the building of stone terraces, which made their way down the slope from the city walls. It was a splendid sight! The fortress was overwhelmingly large. Shirzad smiled as he thought of the arms he would be able to purchase and bring back to Ghazni. Roopa and the other girls wondered to themselves what would happen now that they were here.
The Fatimids, a Muslim caliphate that presided over northern Africa and parts of the Middle East, ruled Jeru
salem. They had captured the city only the year before from the Seljuqs. Shirzad knew he would be welcomed here and sent messengers telling of his imminent arrival. Then they entered the city. The date was March 8, 1099.
Weeks passed and the Ghaznavids were enjoying their newfound surroundings. Iftikhar ad-Daula, the Fatimid governor of Jerusalem, entertained Shirzad and his entourage. Shirzad enjoyed himself so much that the burning desire he felt to be with Roopa subsided somewhat as he was distracted by other pleasures, including those of the flesh. There was plenty of pleasure to be found in Jerusalem. However, Roopa was always in the back of his mind. He knew she was safe; he had been parading the girls around the town to build up a bidding war among the many merchants and royalty. He knew the girls were desired, and the Ghazniavids needed to get the best price. Shirzad knew what he was doing, at least he hoped so.
Slowly a plan developed in his mind to ease his concerns about upsetting his father. He would buy Roopa himself. He would buy her at the auction. He had the money after the gratuity his father had given him for his successful campaign into India. Yes, he would buy her. She would be his slave. A slave he loved. He began to plan the auction in a few weeks’ time. Shirzad was pleased with his ingenuity. He felt as though a weight had been lifted, and he worried about Roopa and his father no more.
The morning of the auction, Shirzad was happy; finally he would be with her that evening. He enjoyed the anticipation and savored the thought of undressing her. The thought made the day pass quickly. The sun rose high in the sky as the noon hour approached. It was June 1, 1099 and a fine summer day. A hot breeze blew in from the Mediterranean coast. Shirzad climbed the city walls to look out over the terraced rolling hills beyond the city. It was a magnificent sight. He could see forever.