Bajazet was at this time just starting on an expedition against the Greek Emperor, whose empire was then limited to the extent of the walls of Constantinople, which were being bombarded by his adversary.

CHAPTER VI

One morning the Sultan was awakened by what seemed to him to be the voice of a nightingale, and, looking up, he saw Maria near him kneeling down, with bent head and arms crossed. The Sultan gazed long upon the childish figure. He could not understand what she was doing.

Finally he interrupted her. "Morning Star, what are you doing?"

The girl started. "I am praying!"

Bajazet had never seen anything like this before.

"To whom do you pray?" he questioned her, with astonishment.

"To G.o.d!"

The Sultan shook his head, for amongst Mussulmans it is not customary for women to pray.

"And why are you praying?"

"That G.o.d may be with you when you start for battle, and that He may grant you victory!"

The Sultan was overcome with joy at the idea that Maria should pray to her own G.o.d when her husband started for battle--a battle which was to cause the destruction of her G.o.d's own altars. This idea was sweeter to him than the thought of the blood to be shed.

"Pray for me. Pray fervently, with all the orthodox prayers to which you are accustomed. I do not understand them, but your prophets will know how they can persuade the ruler of good and evil to act differently to what he had intended, perhaps, a million years before. Tell me about your prayers. I find delight in them. I do not believe in them, but you do, and that is pleasurable to me. And I swear to you by the name of my own prophet Allah, and in the name of your G.o.d, that when I return from the battle, concerning which you pray, you shall have whatever your heart desires. In the meantime think of some desire which is as yet unfulfilled--a desire which is yet hardly existent--which may be only a fancy--waken it into life, demand it, and I will fulfil it!"

Soon afterwards he left to bombard Byzantium.

The Sultan was right in his belief that the world's history does not depend on the tears of women. It was decided a million years ago that this rotten country was to fall to pieces, but no one man was empowered to hasten the destruction before the allotted day and year. Just when the siege was completed the frightful news reached Bajazet that the avenging Timur had accepted his challenge. Impregnable Szivasz had fallen, and his greatest hero, his son, had been killed by the enemy!

Bajazet at once suspended the bombardment of Byzantium. He had neither time nor desire to attack the Christian Churches when an enemy, mightier than himself, approached. Byzantium, therefore, had for a short time to be spared the fate of having its name changed to Stamboul, just as, 450 years later, it was spared from being rechanged to Byzantium, though the change was already looming in the distance.

Bajazet was quite certain that he would take Byzantium. It was a dream from which he could not free himself until it was fulfilled. Every one was against the war. The soothsayers prophesied evil to come. His leaders warned him not to commence the bombardment until he had finished with Tamerlan. But he would not be dissuaded. The soothsayer who advised him to start against Timur before proceeding to Byzantium was dismissed from his presence.

When Timur approached towards Szivasz the Sultan's advisers again implored him.

"Do not let Szivasz fall, or your son be lost!"

When he was tired of hearing this he had a few of them killed, but the warning did not die with them. Though his advisers could no longer speak to him, a sad and moaning song was heard amongst the soldiers, the refrain of which was, "Do not let Szivasz fall, or your son be lost!"

The Sultan had to listen to this nightly from his tent, and when he forbade it to be sung in his camp, it was pa.s.sed on to the shepherds in the Izmid mountains. In the silent night, and in the far distance, the wailing of the shepherds' horn was heard from the Pontus as far as the Sultan's tent, "Do not let Szivasz fall, or your son be lost!"

Bajazet had the shepherds driven into the mountains, or killed, in order that he could no longer hear the cursed song! But he heard afterwards what he little wanted to believe, that both Szivasz and his hero had fallen, and had been destroyed by the hands of his enemy. Bajazet strewed ashes on his head! This was his own fault.

He no longer attacked the gates of Byzantium. He left the subways in the midst of their construction, crossed the Pontus with his army, collected his generals and all his war-utensils, and was ready to start on his big and revengeful expedition. As he anch.o.r.ed near the Izmid mountain, a shepherd was seen close by, resting on his crook. Bajazid exclaimed to him: "Now blow with your horn that song to me: 'Do not let Szivasz fall, or your son be lost!'" The shepherd obeyed his commands and blew the sad and melancholy sounds, which were re-echoed in the mountains. They found an echo in the heart of the Sultan, who cried out, with grief and despair, that he had let his bravest son die; and from that moment the trumpeters were ordered to constantly play the melancholy song during the expedition to Szivasz.

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?"