S'SAAD
We had both recovered our health, but we were still guests in the small
garrison of Hims' soldiers. They had kept us with them in exchange for
many small services. As ever, in our free time, Amin and I trained.
Soldiers were amused watching our physical exercises and sometimes they
also fought with us, just for practice. We two became very skilled in
the stick-fighting and often we were confronted with attacks, feints and
parries where we showed off all our skill doing jumps, pirouettes and
rapid somersaults. To tell the truth our training had become almost a
performance, halfway between martial arts and acrobatics.
We were, one day, performing in front of a small group of soldiers and
local people just outside the city walls, when a knight arrived. He
stopped his horse and watched us for a long while, without dismounting.
After a while he called a soldier and said something to him. The soldier
turned toward his comrades and signalled them to approach. Again they
spoke and the knight handed over to them something that looked like a
rolled parchment. We two, and also the local people that had stopped to
watch our exercises, watched with curiosity. The soldiers placed
themselves at the sides of the knight in formation and escorted him into
the city. We too followed them. One of the soldiers, when we were about
to enter the garrison precincts, barred the way.
"Hey, do not you recognize us?" I asked, astounded.
"You can not enter now: this man is from the Great Mansur, the Sultan
General who is about to come with his men from Baghdad. He will stop
here in our city, to pass the night..."
"But... what about us?" I asked.
The soldier widened his arms as if to say that he did not know what to
do, and said:
"Those are the orders, I can do nothing. You have to find accommodation
elsewhere, at least for now."
I understood that it was useless to insist, so we withdrew a short way.
I was discussing with Amin what to do, when the knight appeared on the
garrison door and, turning to us, signalled us to approach him.
"I noticed you out there, outside of the walls. You are good, really
skilled. What is your name?"
"I am Nadim ibn Yussuf and this is my brother Khaled, sir."
"I have heard from the commander that you survived an attack by the
badaawin and that you are alive only by a miracle. What do you do now
for a living?"
"Nothing, sir. We lost everything when the badaawin assailed us. We
helped this garrison's soldiers a little, during our convalescence, to
repay their hospitality, but now..."
"Have you ever handled a scimitar?" the man asked.
Before Amin could answer, I quickly said: "Never, sir. We are just a
donkey breeder's sons. We just amuse ourselves with the sticks, my
brother and I, to pass our time..."
"That is strange... you handled your sticks almost as a saber is
handled... In a while the Great Mansur Ul Hajjim will arrive. I would
like him to see you handling your sticks. Perhaps he could make two good
soldiers out of you, if this appeals to you."
"Soldiers? I never thought about that, sir. I really do not know what to
say..." I answered hesitantly.
The man told us to see him in the evening, if we decided his offer to be
of interest for us, and went back into the garrison. At that point I
consulted with Amin.
"What do you think about it?"
"Why not? It is possible that this is precisely the way Allah has
prepared for us in His infinite wisdom..."
The general arrived with his soldiers: there were about two thousand men
camped outside the walls, and only the chiefs entered the city. As
evening fell we appeared at the garrison and were introduced to Mansur's
presence. He was an imposing man - he was not Arab nor yet was he a
Turk: we discovered later that he had been a yenicheri of european
origins that the Sultan chose and raised to the general rank to control
his frontier territories after seeing him fight at his side in the wars
against the Russians. Mansur looked at us closely and said:
"Your skill has been highly praised. My man knows that I like to
discover youths with a talent for weapons. If your skill is really equal
to what I have heard about you, I will take you into my retinue. Here
are two sabres. Let me see how you use them."
At that point I said: "Noble and powerful Lord, we never handled sabres,
me and my younger brother, but just sticks, and a stick, at the most,
bruises, does not wound... Can not we show you what we are able to do
with our sticks?"
"If you are interested in being soldiers with me, you use those blades
or you leave: to be soldier is not a game." Mansur answered looking me
straight in the eyes.
I looked at Amin. He nodded faintly, more with his eyes than with a
gesture. We took the two sabres, balancing them in our hands, then we
started to use them as if they were our sticks. At first we made them
circle for a while in order to get used to their weight and their
different way of cleaving the air, then we started with one of our
games. Years had elapsed since we used real sabres, but as little by
little we felt more confident, we started to shift to more daring
exercises. We were so accustomed to our games with the sticks that our
movements were perfectly synchronized and each of us knew exactly what
the other was going to do, and how and when. Little by little everyone's
attention was attracted by our performance and even the soldiers who had
seen us doing these exercises many times, using just innocuous sticks,
started to shout amazed "oohs" and "aahs" at our skilled skirmish. After
a while, in unison, we stopped and turned towards the general.
He nodded solemnly and said: "Yes, you really are skilled, it seems you
were born with those weapons in hand. You succeeded in not even brushing
each other, in spite of nearly always being in contact with the other's
blade. Not bad, boys, a nice performance. But the real fighting is
something else, war is not a game, a show. However, I will take you on.
Tomorrow morning you can leave with us. In Istanbul you will be enlisted
properly."
We happily accepted. That night we slept in the open, on bare ground,
and the morning after we were ready to leave. We were then allotted two
horses and temporarily allocated to a platoon of arab soldiers, natives
of the El Gohr area, whose chief was named Annah or Hanah, I do not
exactly remember. These men were coming back from a military campaign at
the frontiers east of Baghdad, where they had tamed the revolt of a
local Shaikh. Several men had died, so they had with them some horses
without riders. Their manners were rough, but a kind of comradeship and
a strict honour code were in force, so that it was not bad being with
them. We rapidly got used to this ambience, thanks also to the fact
that, even if with an accent different from ours, these men were
speaking an arabic very close to that of our land.
The travel to the capital lasted a little more than one week. When at
last we reached Istanbul, the vision of the city was something that took
my breath away. If Damascus seemed to me marvellous, this town that was
the center of the Empire, of the arts, of the islamic culture, seemed to
me the quintessence of all wonders.
The army had been dissolved along the way, hence when we arrived at the
city gates, we were little more than two hundred soldiers, veterans that
were part of the regular army that was in the capital. Mansur led us
with him and entrusted us to an enlisting officer, commanding him to
assign us to his personal guard. We received uniforms, weapons, and
equipment and were accompanied to Mansur's Palace, which stood near the
Old Imperial Palace. Here we were entrusted to a young officer who's
duty it was to train recruits. For several days we did nothing but
training in fighting and getting used to the fellowship of our guard
comrades.
At night, we had a wide board with a single straw mattress which we
shared with three other soldiers, two Turks and a Thracian. The Turks
were in their thirties and were enlisted about ten years before, so they
were veterans; the Thracian, on the contrary, had been enlisted only a
few months before and was the same age as myself.
We had to learn turkish, a strange and difficult language, very
different from arabic even if it used many arabic words. Istanbul was a
cosmopolitan town, where could be heard different languages and idioms
and where could be seen people of all kind and races: asiatics,
europeans and africans. It was fascinating for that also. But to speak
turkish remained fundamental: it was the official language.
We had been living in the barracks of Mansur's guards for a few days
when, during the night, one of the two turks that was lying near me, in
the darkness started to feel between my legs trying to persuade me,
without words, to have sex with him. I rejected him and he did not
insist. Afraid he could try also with Amin, from the following night on,
I made my Lord sleep between me and the wall. The turk, during the day,
behaved as if nothing had happened, but at night he tried again a couple
of times. His attempts to play with my member annoyed me, but at the
same time provoked in me a strong arousal. To my relief, the turk
finally gave up and did not try again. I soon discovered the reason why
he had ceased to try with me: the thracian boy did not oppose any
resistance to the silent proposal of the man, and soon, during the
night, I often heard them unite and have sex.
What really did amaze me a little is that hearing, or better to say
guessing, from the light rustling, from the rhythm of their breathing
and from the movements no more than a handspan away from me, that the
two were having a sexual intercourse, always aroused in me a condition
of strong excitation. Perhaps it was due to the fact that I had no
sexual intercourse even if my body desired it. The thracian and the turk
became inseparable. The other soldiers, at times, went to certain
premises where you could get women for a few coins. But I did not feel
the least attracted by these vulgar and mercenary creatures, painted in
tragicomic masks and covered with fake jewels and stifling perfumes.
DDAAD
We had been there for some months when the Sultan again sent Mansur on
an expedition: this time to Armenia to suppress a rebellion. Mansur, who
had followed our progress during the long training sessions, wanted us
with him: it was to be our initiation into war. So we had to prepare for
the journey. As always, along the road the soldiers of the provisional
army would be enrolled from the many villages and cities through which
we would pass. Each province was due to give us men, weapons and horses.
Not a few young men came as volunteers, in the hope of distinguishing
themselves and becoming enlisted after the battle.
When we left Istanbul we were about two hundred. When we left Asmara we
were about one thousand and each of us regular soldiers became chief of
a nucleus of men. At the beginning I had five men under me and the Amin
had the same. After passing through Samsun we had about ten men each, at
Ordu around fifteen, at Rize twenty and when we arrived at Karkose our
army counted five thousand men. We immediately clashed with the rebels:
they were less than us, but knew very well the land and were supported
by the local population. We killed several of them, but also several of
our men were killed.
We had been at war for about three months when a spy informed us that
the rebels were gathering in a small valley not far from the site of our
camp. Mansur gave orders to leave immediately to catch them by surprise,
before they had the time to organize, and we entered the small valley.
Immediately battle raged, obstructed by the steep and uncertain ground
where our horses had difficulty manoeuvring.
I was fighting against two rebels when I saw Amin running at full gallop
pursuing some rebels. From some bushes three of the enemy jumped out,
attacking him. Amin valorously defended himself and he seemed to get the
better of them, when one of his enemies succeeded in giving him a big
sabre stroke on the leg and I saw him falling from his horse. Shouting,
I rushed to his rescue and my men also followed me, so that in a short
while we had surrounded Amin with our horses interposed between him and
his assailants and soon we got the better of them. I then dismounted and
helped Amin, who was bleeding heavily, to remount his horse. The battle
was at that point won, the few surviving enemies were fleeing so I could
immediately bring back my Lord to the camp, to get his injury treated.
Amin's wound was not really deep, but my Lord had lost very much blood,
so he had to remain in his tent for several days. When I could I spent
my time with him. It seemed he was healing, when his leg became
seriously infected and very much swollen. He got a raging fever and
often was delirious. I arranged it so that a soldier was always near him
when I could not assist him, being engaged in a battle; it was really
difficult for me be far from him, but I could not avoid my duty.
Whenever possible, I was at his side for hours, wiping his forehead with
a wet piece of cloth and praying to Allah to help him. Since we were
fighting in the mountains and autumn was coming to an end, it was
becoming ever more cold, especially at night. I was really worried for
Amin, I did not know what more I could do. But after a few days, soon
after a battle, while dismounting my horse, I saw a herb I knew: my
mother used this herb when I was a child to heal our infections! I
gathered as much as I could and immediately went back to the camp. I
used it following the recipe I vaguely remembered, hoping that my memory
did not betray me.
Little by little Amin seemed to recover. His leg was deflating and he
was having periods, longer each time, of lucidity. I had managed to
place him in a small tent where only he and I slept, with the excuse
that he would be less likely to disturb the others with his moans in his
delirium. One night, in one of his moments of lucidity, he said:
"Nadim, I feel so cold!"
"It is the fever. Soon you will feel better. Do you want me to look for
another rug?"
"No... I would like you to lie near me to warm me, as you were doing
during the nights we were fleeing..."
"All right, I am coming."
I lay near him, under the same rug, and embraced him tightly. He pressed
against me as he did as a boy, thanked me in a weak voice and fell
asleep. I was still worried about him, so I caressed his body, almost as
if hoping to alleviate his pain and suffering, and in the meantime I
prayed Allah to help him to heal. After that night, I went to sleep near
him every night, even when he improved and started to slowly recover.
One night when at last he was healed, I went back to sleep under my rug.
After I put out the lantern, he said: "I hope to worsen again..."
"What? What are you saying? Why?"
"At least you would come back to sleep with me... I like so much to fall
asleep feeling your warmth..."
I smiled in the darkness and said: "You do not need to be ill. If you
wish... I come."
"Do you think that I am not behaving as a man? That I am very naughty
like a child?"
"No. I too feel good near you," I answered, and slipped under his rug
and embraced him.
>From then on we always slept together. Some could have thought us
lovers, notwithstanding we were brothers, but nobody ever said anything.
Also, all things considered, it was not rare for two soldiers to share
the same mattress and sometime also they preferred to have sexual
intercourse, especially when they were at war and there were no women,
so it was really rare that somebody made jokes on that subject.
The war lasted all winter long and was very hard, both for the
inclemency of the weather and the determination of the rebels. But
finally, in spring, their last stronghold was taken in bitter fighting
and the revolt was put down. I thought that soon we would travel back to
the capital, but Mansur summoned me to his presence. He said that he had
noticed how I had behaved during all the fighting and that, for this
reason, he had decided to appoint me his lieutenant and to leave me
there with a garrison of five hundred men to keep the situation under
control. I was to establish my headquarters in the rebel capital just
conquered. I would receive the needed money to rebuild the fortress and
I would have supported the civil governor with my soldiers.
After consulting with Amin, I accepted, asking to be allowed to choose
the five hundred men who had to remain with me. Mansur agreed without
hesitation. Of course, the first I chose was Amin and with him, after
asking who wanted to stay as a volunteer, we chose the garrison
soldiers.
Amin was very proud of me: "Now you are my chief!" he merrily exclaimed.
"No, you always remain my Lord, even if the others do not know that."
"But here you are the chief! You can rely on me, and you know it!" he
replied firmly.
I ruffled his hair tenderly.
Once Mansur and the army left, I immediately set to work. The civil
governor was a cultivated and clever man and I immediately reached a
good understanding with him. Beside rebuilding the citadel quickly, we
decided to set to work anything possible to pacify the population.
Initially we convened all the mullah and explained to them our
intentions, asking them for their support. They, I did not know how
sincerely, declared themselves to be ready to do so in order that peace
would come back to their land, not only between men but also in their
hearts. Anyway, they collaborated.
We spent there two long years. Often from the capital came officials,
and twice also Mansur returned. Each time we received praise for our
work and also received authorization to hold back a part of the taxes we
were collecting for the Sultan. This was important to execute the works
we had in mind: roads, bridges, wells, cisterns that would be of benefit
for all the population. That period was very useful for Amin and I,
because it allowed us to see personally, and experiment with, the
problems of administering a territory subdued by a bloody war.
Amin and I lived in the citadel, where we had had some rooms tidied for
us, and where we also carried out our duties as military administrators.
The civil governor on the contrary preferred to install himself in an
elegant building in front of the principal masjid, where he administered
justice and collected taxes. Often we were his guests: it was always a
delight to spend our time with him.
So, two years later, Mansur returned and told us that the Sultan, having
heard about me, wanted to meet me and therefore I was summoned at
Palace. With Mansur had come the new military commander that had to take
my place. I asked him if Amin could come with me: I did not want to be
separated from him. The general answered that he had guessed that, so he
had arranged that the summons to the court was also for my brother.
I passed my final orders to the new commander, and we returned to
Istanbul with Mansur. Here, he had the right clothing for our rank made
for us, in order to be received at court. Then Mansur accompanied us to
the Sultan's audience.
|