Pueros
Tamerlane's Boys
Chapters 19-20
Chapter 19 Toqtamish
Tamerlane and a couple of his boys are ensnared by the cruel leader of the Mongol Golden Horde, Toqtamish.
(North Georgia, July 1393)
Nicolai had successfully eluded his own bodyguards, as well as anyone else who might be about around midnight in the small Georgian town, whilst he made his secret way in the moonlight to the local church. There, waiting patiently outside, he saw the dark silhouettes of two horses, only one mounted. As the rightly deeply apprehensive boy approached, he saw that the rider was the man who had, earlier in the day, delivered the message. The 12 years old now also suddenly realised, much to his annoyance, that he had left the vellum behind in the clothing he had discarded back in the tent he had shared with Vissarion.
Nicolai had not meant to leave any clues behind as to his destiny because he did not want Vissarion to do anything dangerous in an effort to rescue him. However, the young Muscovite's intent had been thwarted by a mind befuddled by the possibly dreadful fate that awaited him once he had surrendered himself to Toqtamish. The leader of the Mongols of the Golden Horde was noted not only for his liking for pretty boys but also for his supposed cruelty, especially when securing vengeance against enemies, penchants he obviously shared with Tamerlane. The 12 years old, concerned much more for his brother's welfare than his own, therefore selflessly prayed to God that the man had not yet turned either his sexual attentions or sadistic tendencies towards 8 years old Yaroslav.
Nicolai also knew that Toqtamish would be fully aware of the role the 12 years old had played in Tamerlane's bloody defeat of the Mongols a couple of years previously, and feared what the man had in mind for him. Nevertheless, in order to save Yaroslav, the brave young Muscovite was prepared to sacrifice himself to whatever the leader of the Golden Horde intended as retribution.
Nicolai had only met his brothers during the annual visits to Moscow permitted by the Mongols when he had been one of their boy hostages, and during the later happier family reunion after Tamerlane's great victory. However, he had thoroughly enjoyed their all too brief company, and thereby properly loved the lads as a sibling should.
Certainly, Nicolai's affectionate concern for Yaroslav was more than sufficient to encourage him to proceed with his current highly perilous undertaking. This was despite the fact that the 12 years old fully appreciated that the adventure did not augur well for his future personal wellbeing.
Nicolai's furtive progression, under the cover of nighttime darkness, was so successful that the Georgian adult on one of the horses was not aware of the boy's advance towards him until the young Muscovite spoke, causing the rider to jump in fright. The man, of course, did not know what the 12 years old had said, understanding neither of the lad's two languages, Russian and Turkish, but he nevertheless managed to guess correctly that the words were simply to advise him of the youngster's arrival.
The very anxious man, having calmed a little, then gave Nicolai another piece of vellum, on which was inscribed another message in Russian Cyrillic from Yaroslav.
This read:-
"Dearest Nicolai,
My words are again being dictated to me by Toqtamish. You are to mount the messenger's spare horse and accompany him to where we are located. Please be aware that, if you do not, not only will you receive my head in the morning but also those of the man's family, who are held hostage against the safe delivery of your person to the leader of the Golden Horde.
Your loving brother,
Yaroslav."
Nicolai looked up at the Georgian adult and immediately recognised acute anxiety and fear in his eyes, something that he had previously missed when they had briefly encountered each other earlier in the day. The young Muscovite could tell from the man's look that Yaroslav's words about the messenger's family were true and the 12 years old, regardless of his own personal jeopardy, could not help but feel great sympathy for him.
This reaction only fortified Nicolai's courageous self-sacrificial resolve to obey Toqtamish's summons.
(Tiflis [now Tbilisi], Georgia, same time)
Rezan was lying naked on his back, holding his legs in the air by virtue of wrapping his arms around his knees. At the same time, the beautiful young Persian was trying to relax his sphincter as much as possible to facilitate easier penetration by Tamerlane's rampant cock, which was hovering eagerly just above the pink aperture. The 10 years old knew that the imminent penile invasion would hurt because it always did. However, as usual, he also experienced a strange sense of pleasure at surrendering himself in this manner to a man who had belied his terrible reputation by showing the boy nothing but constant kindness. The youngster's incongruous mixture of emotions was further highlighted by the fact that, pointing back towards his cute navel, his small penis quivered in fullest rigidity in apparent excitement at the prospect of what was about to occur.
As with all of Tamerlane's boys, Rezan's regular evening ablutions were not just designed to remove the day's sweat and dust from his gorgeous young body. This was evident by the fact that such cleansing always included an enema, for the conqueror's catamites always liked to be ready to serve their master overnight in whatever manner he desired.
The absence of Vissarion and Nicolai in north Georgia, and of Arman in Sibur's tent, meant that Rezan was currently the sole nightly object of Tamerlane's sexual appetite, still voracious at 57 years of age. However, despite the accompanying pain, caused because the young Persian's rectum would require a few years' more growth to be able to accommodate his master's erection comfortably, the boy did not mind such exclusivity. He missed his friends, of course, but he had been so starved of parental affection during his early life that he welcomed being the sole recipient of the conqueror's genuinely loving passion. This attitude was helped by the fact that the 10 years old considered his adult paramour to be a father-like figure to him in all but title.
Meanwhile, in a tent nearby, Arman was similarly disported, as Sibur mounted the lovely 16 years old. Soon, low groans were resounding around their canopy too.
(North Georgia, next day)
Having finally had the message, found in Nicolai's discarded silk trousers, translated, Vissarion and his bodyguards immediately rushed on horseback to the local church, hoping to pick up clues as to the young Muscovite's whereabouts. They did not have to search very much because the freshly installed priest handed the young Georgian another piece of vellum, which he had found nailed to the church door. He had not understood the writing, because once again it was in childish Russian Cyrillic, and had thought nothing of it until the appearance of the worried 16 years old, full of questions as to whether anyone had seen his 12 years old friend.
The message was quickly translated because Vissarion had had the good sense to keep the interpreter in his company. He also now perceptively guessed that Yaroslav had once again been forced to write because he must be the only literate person in Toqtamish's entourage, which suggested that the Mongol leader was present somewhere in north Georgia with only a relatively small force, presumably for reasons of mobility.
The interpreter now advised that the latest message read:-
"To whoever seeks Nicolai,
My words are being dictated to me by Toqtamish, leader of the Mongols of the Golden Horde, to whom Nicolai has surrendered himself. However, Toqtamish will be merciful to the boy, and his brother, Yaroslav, who writes this letter, if the great Tamerlane agrees to a meeting. Toqtamish wishes to reach a settlement whereby their respective peoples can be at peace, having honourably reached an agreement to undertake to leave each other's territories alone. For security, Toqtamish suggests a meeting where the two leaders are alone, apart from one servant or bodyguard apiece. Accordingly, Toqtamish will be present, with his servant or bodyguard, and with Nicolai and Yaroslav at the location indicated below, at noon five days from now. Toqtamish promises no tricks, just talk. If Tamerlane does not turn up or attempts perfidy on the day, Nicolai and Yaroslav will die. The boys will also be killed if any attempt to rescue them is made.
This letter is written by Yaroslav on behalf of Toqtamish."
Underneath the Cyrillic script was a crude but recognisable hand-drawn map of a confluence of two rivers, a well-known but remote landmark in the forests to the north, in the southern Caucasus, just beyond the accepted boundaries of Georgia.
(Southern Caucasus, same time)
"Welcome to my camp," Toqtamish, an ugly, middle-aged, bearded, scar-faced man, sneeringly greeted Nicolai, as the brave but fearful boy dismounted from his horse in the forest clearing. "Come close so that I can see what you now look like," the Mongol leader, perched on a tree stump, then commanded.
Nicolai had seen Toqtamish before, when the youngster had been a hostage of the Mongols. He disliked him then, not only for being the main leader of his abductors but also because of the way the smelly man, not renowned for personal cleanliness, carefully appraised the young Russian boy captives.
It had then been evident from the lecherous glint in Toqtamish's eyes that he fancied the prettier young specimens, a fact apparently confirmed by an accompanying regular licking of manly lips. However, probably to the Mongols leader's great disappointment, he had never molested any of the boys, presumably because he did not want to ferment revolts by breaking agreements about the welfare of the young hostages with their families.
It was rumoured that Toqtamish instead obtained compensation for his sexual forbearance with many pretty sons of Russian peasants, who were much less able to cause trouble. Tales of rapes and orgies involving such boys and the Mongol leader were rife.
As Nicolai approached the man he considered to be a monster, being the leader of warriors who had so successfully and brutally subdued Rus in recent years, he prayed again that Yaroslav, only 8 years old, had not already been the recipient of Toqtamish's licentious or evil attentions. However, his younger brother was not yet visible in the small encampment, its size indicative of the correctness of Vissarion's guess that the Mongol leader was not travelling with a large force.
Nicolai began to wonder whether he might have been tricked and that Yaroslav was not a captive of Toqtamish, as he finally came before the Mongol leader. However, the beautiful blonde blue-eyed young Muscovite knew that he could now do little about his peril if he had been fooled.
Nicolai again noticed the lecherous glint in Toqtamish's eyes, as well as the regular licking of manly lips, as the Mongol leader once more scanned the young Muscovite's delectable lithe form, now almost three years older than when he had last appraised the delightful vision. Having observed these reactions, the normally modest 12 years old was therefore not surprised when the man declared, with clear admiration, "Well, boy, you've certainly blossomed nicely since I last saw you!"
As befitted the present subjugator of the Russians, Toqtamish spoke Nicolai's native tongue well, although neither the Mongol leader nor any of his current relatively small complement of warriors could write, either in Cyrillic or any other alphabet. The man now used his verbal knowledge of the young Muscovite's language to worry the 12 years old by inviting him to "Come closer, boy, so that I may handle you!"
Nicolai simultaneously noticed, from the corner of his eye, that the adult Georgian, who had led him to Toqtamish's encampment, had also climbed off his horse. The man had then rushed to embrace a clearly frightened woman, surrounded by several young children, sitting morosely outside a large tent. The young Muscovite appreciated that he was witnessing a family reunion and hoped that the Mongols would spare the lives of the people concerned, now that their usefulness was seemingly over.
In fact, the married couple and their offspring were to be allowed to live, although the woman and children would be kept prisoner until their captors' mission was over. This was not only because the man still had work to perform for Toqtamish but also because of the need to prevent the family telling others about the Mongols' activities.
Nicolai hesitated to comply with Toqtamish's requirement, courageously being unwilling to co-operate if only he was in danger. The young Muscovite therefore instead defiantly asked "Where's my brother?" The boy worried that this disobedience might cause instant anger in the fearsome man, but pride was reinforcing his natural reluctance to submit meekly to the will of the hated Mongols.
Toqtamish's reaction was, however, very mild. His sneer also became a smile, for he respected spunk and he had recognised that he was currently witnessing such fortitude in Nicolai's bold deportment, despite circumstances that must have been very frightening to a mere 12 years old. The Mongol leader therefore just instructed one of his soldiers, in his own native tongue, to "Go collect the other young Russian!"
A clearly very scared 8 years old boy, with very similar pretty features to his older brother, was then led out of a nearby tent towards his 12 years old sibling. Both lads immediately hugged each other, whilst tears formed in both sets of sensuous blue eyes and many enquiries were made about each other's welfare. It was a touching reunion that Toqtamish allowed to continue for several minutes before demanding "Now, Nicolai, do as I have commanded. In fact, you will obey me instantly, without any hesitation, complaint or desultoriness in future. Otherwise, not only will you suffer severely but Yaroslav will as well!"
In response to Toqtamish's obviously now unavoidable order, Nicolai reluctantly broke off his tight embrace of his younger brother and slowly and apprehensively advanced further towards the ugly smelly Mongol leader, so that he was eventually within arms' length. The boy then felt the man's strong dirty hirsute hand grab the back of his immaculately clean young neck to force him even closer.
"There, that's better," Toqtamish commented, once Nicolai's magnificent young form was pressing against the seated man's knees. The Mongol leader's grimy hand then reached up to wipe away some tears, which had earlier spilt from the boy's sparkling blue eyes during the heart-rendering reunion with his younger brother, before the manual attentions switched to exploring the very comely, perfectly smooth contours of the 12 years old's face.
Nicolai then felt both of Toqtamish's hands gently stroke his sweet boyish flanks, gradually proceeding downwards from slim neck to pert bottom, before, very embarrassingly, massaging his covered bumcheeks. Laughter arose from the surrounding warriors, as their leader intimately, manually and visually, examined the young Muscovite's splendid clothed body, which developed goosepimples as a result of the unwanted and humiliating attentions. Most of the soldiers wondered how long it would take before the man perpetrated the same on the 12 years old's naked form. They did not have long to find out.
Nicolai temporarily closed his eyes, whilst his sublime face turned bright scarlet in acute abashment, as one of Toqtamish's hands transferred to the young Muscovite's groin to check the local architecture there. As the Mongol leader confirmed what he had already been told, he caused an increase in the adult laughter accompanying his actions, as well as an intensification of the 12 years old's shame, when he announced "I see, boy, that you are indeed a eunuch!"
Nicolai now additionally blanched, not only because of the demeaning revelation but also because of the stench of Toqtamish's breath. His degradation, tolerated because he did not want Yaroslav to suffer for any show of resistance, was further compounded when the man commented "However, I'm sure, boy, that the loss of your balls doesn't make you less proficient in bed. I therefore look forward to enjoying soon what you've been providing Tamerlane these past couple of years!" Some tears then re-erupted from the beautiful 12 years old's wondrous eyes. He had realised that he would have no choice but to service, whenever required, the sexual desires of the leader of his people's main enemies, whose exceedingly hideous, unsanitary, fetid, hairy body contrasted so markedly with his own impeccably beautiful, clean, sweet, smooth young form.
Nicolai's acute distress manifested itself by the appearance of several beads of sweat on his young brow. Nevertheless, the young Muscovite managed to ask a question of Toqtamish, whilst the Mogol leader continued to grope the eunuch's covered, sadly forever flaccid young cock with one hand and the delightful curvature of his 12 years old buttocks with the other.
The deeply ashamed, and accordingly slightly befuddled and distracted, Nicolai inadvertently opened his question with the words "Please….master….", thereby subconsciously verbally recognising the fact of Toqtamish's new status in his life. The young Muscovite then managed to proceed "….why….did you….really….go to all this trouble….to….recapture me? Surely….a boy such as me….is not….sufficiently….important….to justify….such….a well-planned….mission, led by….the leader….of the Golden Horde….himself." Meanwhile, the 12 years old's divine face was now literally radiant, whilst goosepimples still infused his wonderful young body, because the Mongol leader continued to pursue his very intimate fondling.
"You are, of course, right, young Muscovite," Toqtamish answered, as he proceeded relentlessly with his over-familiar manipulations of the exquisite clothed boyish form before him, "for as your brother was just bait to catch a slightly larger fish, you're merely a lure to secure a veritable shark. You see, Nicolai, the scheme I have been planning carefully for many months centres around the use of your very pleasant person to ensnare Tamerlane himself!"
(Tiflis, Georgia, same time)
The priest was walking away from the altar of his newly restored church, along the nave towards the main entrance of the holy building. The man, who was actually an unwise choice by the Georgian hierarchy for his position, was not looking forward to the imminent visit. Nevertheless, he knew that it had to be endured so that appropriate fawning thanks for the restitution of the property, and his own post, could be given to the representative of the dreadful Tamerlane.
The Georgian priest's dislike for the occasion did not just stem from having to be obsequious to the conqueror's young delegate. His distaste was actually more to do with the fact that the 16 years old, whom the man was required to thank, was a Muslim, an Armenian, a homosexual and a male whore, and he intensely hated all four categories of person.
As the priest advanced down the nave, he suddenly saw the main door open and his first incorrect thought was that his visitor had arrived early. However, he was quickly disabused of this when he observed a young filthy street urchin, dressed in sparse rags, enter the church and begin to advance slowly towards him. There were many such sad souls in the streets and countryside, most orphan detritus of Tamerlane's earlier campaigns in Georgia, or simply children abandoned to look after themselves by desperate parents. It was a situation that Vissarion hoped to try to persuade his master to rectify soon, the young eunuch having now seen the tragic evidence during his journeys around his homeland.
The 10 years old urchin was obviously in a bad condition as he staggered towards the priest. It was clear to the man that the boy was at least malnourished, if not starving and also suffering illness.
The priest was therefore not surprised when, after the boy had come immediately before him, the young urchin collapsed to his knees, held his dirty hands as if in prayer and quietly pleaded in a strained voice, indicative of much recent suffering. "Please Holiness," the youngster begged, "some alms for the poor or at least some food for the hungry." The 10 years old was rewarded for his entreaty by a kick in his empty stomach, causing him to sprawl on the stone floor in shocked agony.
"How dare you," the enraged priest shouted, "bring your horrible filthy form into my church. Get out and never come back you dirty beggar!" The man reinforced his point by a vicious kick to the boy's bottom, now vulnerably presented for such a blow. However, it took several more strikes of the ecclesiastical boot to encourage the young, very weak intruder to obey.
The sore boy, several nasty bruises now rapidly forming on his emaciated body, somehow painfully scrambled to his feet and ran back to the main door and into the, for him, very harsh outside world. However, the 10 years old did not go far before he collapsed unconscious at the edge of the external road, along which a troop of cavalry could now be seen approaching.
The priest had also now reached the door of his church but his attention was swiftly diverted, from ensuring that the cheeky urchin had left the ecclesiastical grounds, towards his visitor, for at the head of the cavalry escort was the hated Muslim, Armenian, homosexual, male whore.
Arman dismounted from his splendid steed outside the church to be greeted in a restrained manner by the priest. The 16 years old noticed the bundle of rags in the road but did not recognise it for what it was and so entered the holy building with his host. However, some of the young Armenian's cavalrymen did appreciate that an unconscious boy was lying nearby, although they took no action.
The men's attitude was not caused because they were all very hard hearted, for some had great sympathy for the plight of Georgia's itinerant children. However, such a spectacle was not uncommon in a cruel world and there were limits as to what they could personally do to help. Lines therefore had to be drawn and, accordingly, the boy was left alone. After all, some of the Muslim soldiers conjectured, the filthy urchin might just be sleeping, having had his young belly filled by the kind Christian priest of the church they were visiting.
Inside the church, Arman was perceptive enough to judge from the priest's attitude that he was not welcome, although the man had tried to disguise his distaste for the young Armenian. The 16 years old, who could speak Georgian fairly well because he had picked up the language over the years from his closest friend, Vissarion, therefore decided to make his visit as short as possible, not wanting to remain anywhere he was not wanted.
Accordingly, after accepting, on behalf of his master, the priest's far from heart-felt thanks, and briefly quietly praying to Allah before the Christian altar, as a mark of respect to the holy sanctuary, Arman turned to walk back down the nave to exit the place. However, the young Armenian caught sight, out of the corner of his eye, of a large ornate book on a nearby lectern. The 16 years old, ever curious about such treasures, went to inspect the leather bound tome.
Arman quickly discovered that the book was a beautiful Bible, clearly new and magnificently handwritten in colourful formal Georgian lettering. The 16 years old asked the priest about the volume's source and was told to his surprise that it was actually Armenian.
"The previous Bible was burnt in the wars," the priest replied, " and no monastery in Georgia could supply a suitable replacement in time for the church's reopening. We therefore had to purchase one from the Spadonis Monastery in your homeland, which produces works in both Georgian and Armenian." However, the man uttered his reply with such an air of disgust in his voice and face, presumably in disdain at having to source the book from Arman's hated nation, that the 16 years old did not follow up his initial enquiry with further questions. The young visitor instead politely thanked his host for his hospitality, although that had been barely existent and very begrudging, and left the premises, whilst wondering whether follow up his instant interest by making a visit to the place where such wonderful tomes were produced.
As Arman passed through the church door, he noticed that the bundle of rags, which he had seen earlier, was moving. The young Armenian suddenly realised in shock that the small heap represented a child and so approached the decrepit pile.
Arman now saw that the filthy rags were actually a young boy, stirring slightly in his unconsciousness, but the young Armenian had previously been forced to adopt the same attitude as his cavalrymen when it came to such urchins. The 16 years old therefore began to back off the sad sight to return to his horse.
Arman was halfway towards his steed when he stopped to look sideways at the church. A voice then entered the young Muslim's mind, begging him not to abandon the child. The young Armenian tried to shrug off such impractical thoughts and advanced a few more paces towards his horse. However, the voice within was relentless and, before the compassionate 16 years old could really appreciate what he had done, he found himself riding back to Tamerlane's encampment with a little heap of rags, once more motionless, sprawled in front of him over the back of his tall mount.
Sibur was later initially surprised when he returned to the tent he shared with Arman to find that a corner was now occupied by the young Armenian and one of Tamerlane's best physicians, apparently attending to a dirty pile of rags. The young man then realised his visual mistake when he saw the boy's face, recently wiped clean to reveal a deathly shade of white, and remembered his young lover's caring nature.
Cloth compacts, drenched in cold water and applied to the boy's brow, had brought the filthy young patient back to consciousness, and spoons of delicious filling broth introduced to 10 years old lips had then restored more life. However, it had subsequently been a struggle to persuade the young urchin to discard his rags in favour of a hot bath, provided in a large wooden tub brought to the tent for the purpose, and some of Rezan's clothes.
The unselfish young Persian was the same age, and about the same size, as the young Georgian urchin and had been happy to give up the garments for the boy. The considerate Rezan also helped to overcome his fellow 10 years old's shyness by bravely and apparently unashamedly stripping first to plunge into the bath, challenging the young guest to be courageous enough to follow.
The young urchin did not want to appear cowardly and so obliged the naked Rezan, who was soon helping Arman to wash the now similarly nude newcomer. The latter later emerged to be a potentially very attractive brown haired and eyed boy by the name of Teimuraz. His latent bodily beauty was currently only marred by bruising that would heal and a scrawniness that would cure through good regular diet, which his new master was intent on supplying.
Soon afterwards, the priest who had caused the boy's bruises lost his new parish. Meanwhile, Arman, not normally one for airs and graces, including servants, now decided that it was time that he acquired a young squire.
(North Georgia, same time)
Vissarion contemplated the implications of the latest vellum message, obviously prepared well in advance for leaving at the church on the presumption, proved correct, that Nicolai would bravely surrender himself to Toqtamish in order to save his younger brother. The young Georgian had wisely decided not to undertake any immediate, potentially rash action to try to resolve the situation. Instead, he would first use the wisdom that had often previously belied his tender years to work out the correct way forward.
Vissarion appreciated that immediate deployment of his very capable but small group of bodyguards to seek out Toqtamish, his band of warriors and their hostages would be too dangerous for both the boy captives and his own cavalrymen. Not only were the Mongols likely to be more numerous and expert at forest conflict but also the approach of the 16 years old and his small force should be easily detectable by well-prepared opponents. He had too much respect for the capable leader of the Golden Horde's obviously careful planning to believe that advance northwards would go unnoticed.
Vissarion, however, had wanted to keep Tamerlane ignorant of the situation, fearing his master's reaction. The young Georgian did not want to be the source of bad news that would cause the conqueror to relapse into depressive mental illness.
Nevertheless, after giving the problem careful thought, Vissarion eventually despatched one of his bodyguards on the two-day horseback ride back to Tamerlane's encampment near Tiflis. The cavalryman carried an urgent message.
(Southern Caucasus, same time)
"Neither my brother nor I will be party to such infamy," Nicolai shouted in anger, as he released himself and backed away from Toqtamish, "as we would sooner die!" The petrified Yaroslav, shocked at his sibling's reaction and terrified of the consequences, nevertheless remained silent, despite wishing that the 12 years old had consulted him before making such a bold declaration. The 8 years old did not know Tamerlane, nor did he care for him. Consequently, the youngster would have preferred not to have been offered up for death in place of the dreaded conqueror.
Toqtamish was once again remarkably tolerant, given his awful reputation. The Mongol leader simply replied to Nicolai quietly, but still menacingly, "You're too late, young Muscovite, because you've already played your main role in my plan. By arriving here, I'm sure that you've set in motion a sequence of events that will lead to Tamerlane's capture, if my spies' observations concerning his deep regard for his boys and their welfare are correct. Your only hope of retrieving the situation is by escaping and I assure you that I'm not going to be foolish enough to present you with the slightest opportunity to achieve that. Please also be aware that, if you even make the merest attempt to flee, your brother will take many days to die excruciatingly, probably starting with his emasculation so that his genitals are like those of his older sibling!"
Nicolai looked round the compact encampment, crowded with fierce Mongols, armed to the teeth, and appreciated that successful escape would be improbable, even in the middle of the night if he was left unbound, which he correctly surmised was an unlikely scenario. He also shivered, as he envisioned Yaroslav suspended naked from a tree whilst his pleasant 8 years old form was tortured to death over many days.
"I now actually need you no more," Toqtamish continued, "but I'll be merciful for now because I'm excited by the prospect of enjoying your body, which you'll offer me willingly if you do not want me to debauch your brother instead, before killing you both, very slowly and agonisingly!" Nicolai's protestations immediately ended, and his body language, as his shoulders slumped, correctly suggested total defeat and despair of the proud young Muscovite.
"You will therefore ready yourself for my bed now," Toqtamish commanded, whilst pointing to the largest of the nearby well-guarded canopies, "by stripping and then going naked to that tent. Within, you will stand, facing the entrance, next to the bedding you will find inside, hands on head and with legs slightly apart. I shall join you there shortly to impregnate your orifices with my seed, and you'd better prepare your mouth and anus to be invaded by a phallus that I'm sure will prove superior in every dimension from that of your former master!"
The horrified Nicolai glanced at Yaroslav, now tearful again, and thought once more of his brother suspended from a tree, as the screaming 8 years old's tiny scrotum was being sliced open. The 12 years old therefore no longer hesitated in complying with an order from his cruel new master and reluctantly began to strip slowly, his shame evidenced by the deepening redness of his beautiful young face.
Toqtamish did not mind the slowness of Nicolai's disrobing. He was thoroughly enjoying the spectacle as the gorgeous young Muscovite's sublime nude body gradually came into view. First to be discarded were the boy's expensive leather travelling boots, worn without socks in summer, followed by his sturdy riding jacket and silk shirt, so exposing the 12 years olds delightfully lithe upper torso for the first time.
Nicolai hesitated momentarily to pull down his trousers until another vision of Yaroslav being horribly physically tormented entered his mind. The garment was then soon resting on top of his other shed clothing, leaving the boy in his last cover, a skimpy pair of tight black silk briefs, which contrasted nicely with the healthy pink of his skin and deliciously highlighted the magnificent mounds that comprised his young buttocks. Also evident was the clear outline of a surprisingly large cock for a 12 years old eunuch.
Nicolai grabbed the sides of his last diminutive cover but again dallied before pulling the item downwards, this time for considerably longer than previously. Toqtamish, now very keen to have the remainder of the boy's perfect form revealed to his eagerly expectant eyes, therefore intervened to hurry matters.
"Now, Nicolai," Toqtamish advised, "don't go all shy on us or I'll order Yaroslav flogged forthwith!" The Mongol leader was rewarded when the 12 years old's fingers finally pushed the briefs down immaculately proportioned smooth boyish thighs and legs. Young feet eventually stepped out of the attire, which was then placed on top of the other discarded garments. However, the sight of the young Muscovite's gelded genitalia was all too brief for most observers, as protective hands quickly covered the scene. Nevertheless, the previous laughter from the warriors around now changed to murmurs of clear admiration, as the youngster's magnificent nude perspective was closely scrutinised by many pairs of eyes.
Most of the observers' cocks had already hardened during the delectable young Muscovite's unintentional, but actually very erotic, slow striptease and several of these rampant organs involuntarily spurted cum into underwear at the sight. Many of the watching Mongols were especially intrigued by the boy's lustrous bottom, wishing that they could somehow soon participate in the pleasures of separating the bumcheeks in readiness to invade the orifice protected by the sublime curvature.
Toqtamish remained discontent, however, for he now wanted to inspect visually the amended architecture of the boy's groin. He therefore advised "Now, Nicolai, don't go all shy on us once more or Yaroslav will truly be flogged forthwith. Place your hands on your head and show us all what they're currently trying to hide."
The protectors of Nicolai's shame therefore reluctantly abandoned their duty to relocate to the required position, with most of the watching eyes now straining to see what the boy possessed, or perhaps lacked, between his legs. Meanwhile, the young Muscovite's distress at his disgrace was so intense that he became light headed, almost causing him to faint. However, the 12 years old somehow managed to prevent this further embarrassment and maintain his demeaning new position.
"Come closer once more," Toqtamish now ordered and, spurred by a wish to end the whole appalling experience as quickly as possible, Nicolai, mind close to trauma, complied without delay. The boy then quickly felt his gelded groin again receiving the Mongol leader's manual attentions, this time in their shamefully uncovered form.
"Excellent work," Toqtamish announced, referring to the proficiency of the gelding, as he fondled Nicolai's empty ball sac, devoid of noticeable scar, before moving the action to the boy's pleasant penis with one hand and to the 12 years old's now bare bottom with the other. Something then happened that the young Muscovite had not experienced since his castration two years earlier, despite the previous careful sexual attentions afforded to his delectable form by Tamerlane and occasionally Arman. The youngster's supposedly forever flaccid penis began to grow remorselessly.
When Nicolai was subsequently ordered by Toqtamish to turn around so that the Mongol leader could manhandle the boy's naked pert posterior more intimately, the young eunuch was exhibiting a fulsome erection. The 12 years old experienced a strange mixture of acute abashment and intense wonderment at the penile display.
Meanwhile, the obviously complimentary murmurs from nearby intensified, undoubtedly increased by undisclosed jealousy of the exciting manual exploration being indulged in by Toqtamish. However, Nicolai's shameful torment was soon brought to an end because the Mongol leader, his own massive but filthy member throbbing frantically underneath his own garments, was now desperate for sexual relief.
Toqtamish therefore ordered one of his warriors to shackle Nicolai's feet together, to make the young Muscovite incapable of trying to run away, before ordering the boy to fulfil the second part of the Mongol leader's original instruction, to proceed to the nearby tent. However, before the naked 12 years old departed, he was required to kiss his new master's dirty boots, as a symbol of his complete subjugation in all matters to the obnoxious man's will.
Nicolai obeyed these instructions whilst enduring another strange mixture of emotions. The young Muscovite was, of course, deeply hurt at having to perform the initial degrading homage. However, the boy also wanted to end the shame of his public nudity as quickly as possible and so complied rapidly in order to turn to move towards the tent, his leg shackles forcing him to shuffle degradingly rather than walk the short distance. The naked 12 years old then additionally felt great trepidation as to what would now take place under the waiting canopy.
Nicolai had only recently become accustomed to accommodating comfortably Tamerlane's hard cock in his orifices. Accordingly, the young Muscovite appreciated that, if the size of Toqtamish's penis was as great as the man had boasted, the boy could expect not only an unpleasant time, given the revolting nature of his new master's body, but also a very painful one.
Nevertheless, Nicolai, personal unprecedented erection humiliatingly maintained, rushed as fast as he could to the cover of the well-guarded tent, amidst a cacophony of raucous comments from the Mongol warriors. The young Muscovite could not, of course, understand the comments but he could guess the undoubted gist.
Inside the gloomy canopy, which was pervaded by the obnoxious smell of Toqtamish's bodily odours, Nicolai took up the required degrading position. The immaculate young Muscovite stood as commanded, legs apart and hands on head, besides the filthy and untidy roll of bedding on the floor, facing the leather flaps that represented the entrance of the tent. The gelded boy's cock miraculously quivered as he awaited the imminent arrival of Toqtamish.
(Delhi, India, same time)
5 years old Krishnan had had a remarkable change in fortune, for his life was now much nicer. The young very pretty Hindu was still a slave but he had been bought, because of his age, looks and pleasant temperament, by an agent of the latest Muslim Sultan of Delhi, a member of the dynasty founded by Tughluq almost seventy years previously. The boy had been purchased to be the servant and companion of the current ruler's similarly aged son, just as the 3 years old Slav, Vladmir, had been, thousands of miles away in Edirne, for the heir to the Ottoman throne, Mehmet.
Krishnan, however, who was presently serving a fresh fruit juice to his young master before trying to defeat him at a game of hide and seek in the resplendent lush gardens of the Sultan's palace, had so far kept his balls, unlike Vladimir. Nevertheless, despite his tender years, the young light brown Hindu appreciated that this happy state might not last forever, as it was customary for male servants to be gelded before they became a sexual danger to the many girls and women in the ruler's family, harem and wider household. The boy therefore hoped that he might eventually be moved to a less precarious post before his superiors decided that his testes had to be forfeit.
What both Krishnan and Vladimir did not, of course, appreciate, as they played with their young masters, one in Europe and one in faraway central Asia, was that they were destined to be the closest of friends. They were, in fact, to become just as close as Vissarion and Arman, people with whom they would also become intimate.
(Southern Caucasus, same time)
Toqtamish, huge cock still rigid and now exceedingly keen to achieve sexual relief, did not take long to follow Nicolai into the tent, or to then undress himself after he saw the beautiful young naked eunuch awaiting his fate. On his part, the 12 years old almost fainted again at the resultant sight.
Nicolai's reaction was caused by the revelation of not only Toqtamish's revolting form, covered with a foul mat of dark hair, probably inhabited by many fleas, but also his long thick hirsute penis. The man's massive member, which the young Muscovite was expected imminently to entertain, was already vibrating and drooling copious amounts of precum in eager anticipation. The boy now recognised, to his acute horror, that the Mongol leader's boast about the size of his cock was not idle because the potentially dangerous implement appeared to be half as big again, in all directions, when compared to Tamerlane's substantial penis.
"Kiss my feet," Toqtamish now ordered, "as another symbol of your submission. You may then remain kneeling to lick and suck my cock to make it grow into its maximum size, ready for your rectum!"
Nicolai momentarily considered trying to capture Toqtamish's now discarded sword or dagger, with his still free hands, in order to strike the obnoxious man down. However, the young Muscovite demurred, but not through any cowardice.
Nicolai realised that Toqtamish was not so desperate for sex that he would be relaxed about his own safety by being unwary of an attempt to snatch his weapons. The desperate gamble would therefore be most unlikely to succeed, particularly given the careful positioning of the weaponry, on the far side of the Mongol leader's revolting hirsute body. The 12 years old boy therefore perceptively appreciated that all he would achieve by making the effort would be to instigate terrible deaths for himself and his brother.
Nicolai would have self-sacrificingly preferred such a dreadful demise, even if his younger brother shared his fate, to the capture of Tamerlane by Toqtamish, but only if the young Muscovite was still needed to complete the subterfuge that would entrap the conqueror. However, as it seemed that the boy was no longer an important cog in the nefarious scheme, the 12 years old decided that it would serve his former master better if he bided his time.
Nicolai instead intended to wait for a better chance to try to rectify the dangerous situation he had been responsible for creating, by foolishly, albeit with the best of intentions, surrendering himself to Toqtamish. Unfortunately, such an opportunity was never to arise, as the Mongols and their leader were not to let their vigilant guard over the young Muscovite slip, fully recognising that it would be very foolish to do so given the stakes for which they were playing.
Meanwhile, Nicolai somehow successfully prevented himself from vomiting, as he knelt to begin to comply with Toqtamish's latest command.
(North Georgia, four days later)
Tamerlane arrived in the small north Georgian town four days later, escorted only by a contingent of Sibur's men, led, despite only being 16 years of age, by Arman, who was not himself accompanied by his current lover but by his new young squire. The conqueror was greeted affectionately by the expectant Vissarion and respectfully by the young eunuch's small troop of bodyguards.
Tamerlane then entered Vissarion's tent to confer with the young Georgian and Armenian. Meanwhile, news of the dreaded conqueror's arrival spread rapidly around the town, including to the ears of the adult Georgian whose family were still held as hostages by Toqtamish against the man's continued co-operation, on this occasion as a spy.
Accordingly, the news of Tamerlane's arrival, with only a relatively small military force, also quickly reached the ears of Toqtamish, who happily began to believe that his entrapment of the conqueror was about to materialise. The very thought subsequently encouraged the Mongol leader's very substantial cock to invade and impregnate Nicolai's throat and rectum with extra aplomb, worsening the bloody bruising already present in the boy's oral and anal orifices.
That night, Vissarion chatted in the tent that he had previously shared with Nicolai. His guests now were Arman and the now soundly sleeping Teimuraz.
"Armannnnnnnnn!" Vissarion whispered accusingly, albeit with a broad grin, as he looked at the pretty face of the peacefully somnolent Teimuraz, whose attractive body was already physically filling out nicely.
"It's not what you think," Arman pleaded in response. However, the retort was another knowing exclamation from Vissarion of "Armannnnnnnnn!"
"Oh, alright," Arman then confessed to his friend, who probably knew him better than he knew himself, "yes, I do fancy him but that's not why I've adopted him as my squire, and I wouldn't make any attempt to bed him unless I believed that's what he truly wanted."
"I know," the wise Vissarion advised, "because I know you. I just wanted you to confess that you liked his body. However, does that mean that you no longer like mine?" The seriousness of the young Georgian's question was undermined by his maintenance of a wide smile. Nevertheless, Arman decided to seek revenge.
"You cheeky Georgian," Arman declared, before attacking his oldest and best friend with his fingers, which knew all of Vissarion's most ticklish spots. However, after the initial foray, which succeeded in securing the young Georgian's complete abject surrender to young Armenian desires, the digits progressed towards much more intimate areas.
Meanwhile, the commotion had caused a nearby 10 years old eye to open. After the initial shock at furtively observing such debauchery for the first time in his young life, Teimuraz, own hidden cock hardening, secretly became quite jealous at missing out at the sex play, which his older companions were clearly thoroughly enjoying.
The wish of Vissarion and Arman to enjoy the warmth and pleasantries of each other's splendid bodies was not, however, solely induced by mutual lust. Shared comfort was also desired because they knew that the next day might be their last together.
(Southern Caucasus, mid-morning next day)
Nicolai, when not required for Toqtamish's sexual entertainment, had been kept uncomfortably chained in the man's tent, hands fastened to his feet behind him, so that he had to lay constantly with his knees bent backwards and his upper legs upwards. The young Muscovite's hands were released only to enable him to eat, and then toilet and bathe in the nearby river once a day. The latter action might seem incongruous, given the Mongol leader's apparent indifference to personal cleanliness. However, the obnoxious lecher liked to enjoy clean boys' bodies whilst not having any regard for the state of his own.
The daily trip to the river had given Nicolai no chance to escape, as his feet had remained shackled to force him to shuffle slowly rather than walk, much to the loud amusement of any watching Mongols. The young Muscovite was also kept both under heavy guard and shamefully naked, the latter circumstance creating even more ribald excitement amongst the observing warriors.
Toqtamish's sexual appetite had proven robust and Nicolai had had to service the man's massive cock, both orally and anally, several times a day, as the Mongols patiently awaited the denouement of their plan. The young Muscovite had himself experienced no pleasure in return, just acute mental and physical distress, exemplified by the profound soreness of the boy's respective bodily orifices.
Nicolai's only compensation was the fact that Yaroslav appeared not to have been the centre of any similar sexual attentions from anyone. The 12 years old reasoned that this was probably because his captors' still wanted, if possible, to honour their agreement with his family over the 8 years old's welfare. Unless the Mongols were forced to harm the boy because of disobedience on the part of his older brother, such consideration should avoid the unnecessary distraction of future trouble with a minor Muscovy princedom, easily suppressed but nevertheless an inconvenience.
The first inkling that Nicolai had that the day must have arrived when Toqtamish's trap was to be affected was when, after washing in the cold fast-running mountain water of the nearby river, he was given his clothes back. The young Muscovite's guards even unshackled the boy's feet to let the 12 years old put his trousers back on. However, they did so whilst surrounding him with swords drawn, and so any realistic prospect of trying to escape never materialised.
Nicolai did momentarily consider a suicidal attempt to flee, in case he had been deceived and he was still to be an important integral part of the plot to entrap Tamerlane. However, the young Muscovite inadvertently took too long to make his critical decision, delayed by awful thoughts of what would happen to his brother if he went ahead. Consequently, before the boy could make his fateful choice, his hands were bound with rope behind his now fully clothed body. The 12 years old therefore prayed that his dithering inaction would not prove fatal to the conqueror.
(Spadonis Monastery, western Armenia, same time)
The 14 years old reluctant monk-to-be had been given up to the large local monastery, a rather forbidding and ancient structure located on the top of a tall mountain crag, by his father several weeks earlier. The countryside had still not yet recovered from the devastation caused by Tamerlane's conquest several years earlier and the boy's parents had decided that they could not feed their large family adequately, especially as another baby was on the way. They had therefore offered the local abbot their third son, who was just the right age to become a novice of his particular unique order.
The boy's parents thought that his entry into the monastery was better for all concerned, although their son begged to differ and tried to run away. However, the pretty 14 years old had been caught, stripped naked and flogged by his father for his impertinent reluctance to join holy orders. Later, despite his desperate protestations, he had been handed over to the monks in their walled hilltop citadel, from which only a narrow vertiginous path led to the plain far below.
The boy's new location, along with the fact that he was kept under very close supervision whenever he was not kept in his tiny windowless monastic cell under lock and key, meant that making a further attempt to escape his religious destiny was impossible. The 14 years old was also threatened with further beatings and a diet of bread and water only if he did not submit to his training for his initiation as a novice monk. Accordingly, the young Christian Armenian, determination to resist now completely crushed and therefore sadly resigned to his fate, meekly succumbed to the inevitable.
It was now the day of the boy's formal initiation as a novice and he was escorted into the main chapel of the monastery by the two stern adult monks who had been training him for this defining moment and for his future life. Loud droning incantations emerged from the many other monks present, lining the walls of the chapel, as the 14 years old advanced towards the gloomy altar, illuminated only by a vast array of candles.
The altar was decorated by a huge golden cross and an icon depicting a Biblical scene, perhaps appropriately showing Abraham, knife raised, about to sacrifice Isaac at God's request. Unusually for a religious painting, the pretty child in the picture was naked.
An old sturdy trellis table was also temporarily positioned before the altar and the boy was soon led in front of its dark surface. The 14 years old's body visibly quivered at the close-up view, for he knew full well what the sanguine ingrained stains on the tabletop represented.
The boy was terrified but nevertheless now followed his instructions well, being even more fearful of the consequences, of which he had been appraised, if he did not. The 14 years old therefore knelt before the table and altar to pray briefly before standing again and allowing his pair of attendant monks to remove his crude short sleeveless habit, which represented his only cover.
The boy's sublime naked form now came into view in the candlelight, his cock incongruously rigid. The 14 years old was shocked at this humiliating phenomenon and not just because of the frightful circumstances he found himself in, for he had spent a lot of time during the previous sleepless night, whilst alone on the bed in his tiny locked cell, masturbating. He had been very grateful for the presence of a cloth and bowl of cold water in which to wash, in his otherwise sparse accommodation, because he had produced so much sperm by his actions. The creamy white substance was only a recent product of his genital pleasuring and he had been surprised to discover how much he could generate if he put his mind and body to the task.
The nude boy knelt and prayed briefly once more before allowing his pair of attendant monks to help him lay himself face up on the waiting table. The petrified 14 years old, penis still hard and throbbing, then meekly permitted his spreadeagled limbs to be bound securely to the leather cords located at each corner of the cool wooden surface. A gag was firmly inserted into his trembling young mouth, not primarily to silence him but rather to prevent his teeth causing any harm during the dreadful ritual to come. Meanwhile, the loud monastic chanting continued remorselessly.
The boy, now barely capable of movement, then felt his ball sac being tightly tied, before his attendant monks stepped to one side and the abbot approached the scene.
The abbot knelt before the table to utter his own prayers before standing at the side of the nude splayed boy. The man's arm was raised into the air and the 14 years old saw for the first time the ancient knife that had emasculated all of the monks present, and their predecessors, and was now about to do the same to him.
The boy had not wanted to join a monastic order that consisted only of eunuchs, so that their devotion to and work for God would not be disturbed by sinful desires of the flesh, but, in the end, he had no choice. Nevertheless, tears formed into his eyes, as the abbot introduced his knife to the middle of the 14 years old's ball sac, just underneath the vertically erect throbbing penis.
The boy had overcome his natural fears and masturbated so much in recent days in order to experience his final genital pleasures. However, the 14 years old was now to discover that his life was to offer one last penile orgasm.
Copious amounts of white cum oozed out of the boy's cockhead slit, and down the sides of his rigid penile shaft, like lava from a volcano, as his beautiful young body spasmed in intense ecstasy whilst the abbot began his delicate expert incision. The man ignored the not uncommon final ejaculation of semen, when the substance began to flow over the 14 years old's smooth scrotum, and instead concentrated on finishing his cut down the middle of the sac.
The abbot then exposed the tiny cord that connected the boy's body to a white testicle that, with its partner, made the owner a true male. However, the man did not allow the new novice, lovely form still quaking in final acute orgasm, to wait long to have his sexuality ruined permanently, because he quickly used his razor-sharp blade to sever this initial orb. The first little organ was then quickly followed in the monastic leader's bloody spare palm by the second.
One of the two attendant monks now held a small bowl, in which he collected the small testes harvested by the abbot from the new boy eunuch, whilst the other had gathered the red-hot cauterising iron. The 14 years old's delightful body had somehow bravely remained conscious throughout the appalling surgery on his hairless genitalia, despite suffering the awful trauma and delirium of acute mental and physical anguish. However, the smell of burning flesh and the accompanying intolerable agony now pervading the scene thankfully brought the sanctuary of darkness to both his eyes and mind.
(Delhi, India, same time)
Krishnan was also humiliatingly naked and having his hairless genitalia manhandled.
The Sultan's chief eunuch was inspecting the 5 years old's tiny sexual organs with another man. "What do you think?" the former asked, whilst handing over the fondling of the boy's scrotum to the latter. Meanwhile, Krishnan's little light brown penis was embarrassingly horizontal as he stood before the men.
"He's in between," the court craftsman advised, "as his balls are too big to crush without danger of potentially fatal infection and I'd prefer his sac to be a bit bigger to guarantee efficient cutting. I therefore recommend that we wait a year or two to let the scrotum grow before I geld him."
Krishnan might only have been 5 years old but he knew fully what the men were talking about. The boy therefore breathed a mighty sigh of relief when the chief eunuch agreed with the castrator's suggestion.
(Southern Caucasus, a few hours later)
Tamerlane, accompanied only by the unarmed Vissarion, carefully advanced on horseback through the lonely forest towards the pre-arranged rendezvous point. The pair knew that they were taking a great risk in testing Toqtamish's supposedly honourable intentions in seeking the meeting but they had been unable to formulate any better way to try to rescue Nicolai and his brother from the clutches of the Mongols. They also appreciated, from instinct rather than actual detection, that they were being watched as they arrived, just before noon, at the place indicated on the vellum map.
After Tamerlane and Vissarion had halted their horses, initially allowing their resplendent chargers to drink, from the bank, some of the very rapidly flowing river water, they noticed four other steeds emerging from the trees directly ahead. An ugly bearded scar-faced man was on one, whilst a pair of gagged boys, hands bound behind them and feet tied together underneath their mounts, were being led on another two by a mounted Mongol warrior.
Both Tamerlane and Vissarion immediately recognised Nicolai as one of the boys and presumed that the other had to be Yaroslav, judging by his likeness to the older child.
Toqtamish had never seen Tamerlane before but the dreaded conqueror's presence was confirmed not only by the man's magnificent rich uniform and splendid horse but also by his appearance, which was identical to the descriptions provided to the Mongol leader by his spies.
Accordingly, as he approached, the smiling Toqtamish opened the conversation by greeting Tamerlane in a Mongol Turkish dialect that was supposedly familiar to his great enemy. "Welcome, great conqueror," the leader of the Golden Horde said.
"Greetings," Vissarion responded pleasantly on behalf of his master and himself, "are we to presume that you are Toqtamish? "Yes, I am indeed he," the Mongol leader confirmed, ignoring the slight caused by the fact that Tamerlane had chosen not to reply personally.
"Well, then," Vissarion continued, "please release Nicolai and his brother from their bondage and pass their custody safely to me. My master will then be prepared to talk to you about peace, presuming you are intending to honour your undertaking that this is what this meeting, held under your guarantee of safety, is about." However, the Mongol leader was neither willing to oblige with the young Georgian's request nor to provide any reassurance about the circumstances of their rendezvous.
On the contrary, Toqtamish now revealed "I'm afraid that I won't release the boys because I've changed my mind about the purpose of our meeting!" He then raised his arm in the air and immediately his carefully concealed and camouflaged mounted Mongol force emerged, as if from nowhere, from the trees that surrounded the scene on three sides. The ambush had now been satisfactorily achieved because the raging river torrent on the fourth side presented no real avenue of escape.
"I've decided to capture the great Tamerlane instead," Toqtamish now announced with a broad smirk, "and, by the looks of you, boy, another of his beautiful catamites as a nice bonus as well. You'll do nicely as a replacement for poor Nicolai here. You see, my people want revenge on the young Muscovite for what he helped to perpetrate on them in recent years. He's therefore to be publicly flogged in our capital until the skin's flailed from his formerly gorgeous body. He will then be cut and dismembered bit by bit whilst every effort is made to keep him agonisingly alive until, after many days, there's nothing left to extract from his devastated form apart from his heart!" The 12 years old had not previously been acquainted of the dreadful destiny planned for him by the Mongol leader, and his beautiful gagged face immediately turned white at the awful news.
Meanwhile, Tamerlane and Vissarion appreciated that Toqtamish had not only deceived them but also acted appallingly in respect of this unprecedented meeting. His trickery was a complete betrayal of the code of honour normally associated with Mongol promises.
Toqtamish, however, did not seem to care. Instead, the leader of the Golden Horde sneeringly added to the unease of Tamerlane and Vissarion by stipulating "The other young Muscovite will only be spared the same fate as Nicolai if the great Tamerlane, and his sweet talkative bumboy, now surrender to me without a fight!"
Chapter 20 Habits
Arman and Teimuraz encounter some nasty habits.
(Southern Caucasus, July 1393)
"I don't think that you will succeed in your aims," Vissarion retorted, very boldly given the circumstances. However, his remark wiped the smile off Toqtamish's ugly face and caused him to ask "Why not?" "Because of this," the young Georgian answered, as he reciprocated the Mongol leader's recent gesture of holding his arm aloft.
Toqtamish's visage then bore an expression of horror as his warriors were now surrounded on all sides, apart from the riverbank, by a similarly sized contingent of Tamerlane's cavalrymen, bows and arrows ready to fire. The Mongol leader noticed that the commander of the fierce mounted enemy troop incongruously seemed to be a youth, who was accompanied by a young boy. The man, of course, did not appreciate the fact that the latter young squire was not prepared to be separated in any circumstances from his new master and saviour, and had therefore resolutely insisted on being part of this very dangerous escapade. The 10 years old had even somehow learnt how to ride a horse reasonably well, miraculously within a day, to be able to come.
Toqtamish was not the leader of the Golden Horde for no reason, and he quickly re-gathered his composure at the unexpected and highly disturbing turn of events. As a result, he now managed confidently to threaten "I assure you that Tamerlane will die first in any battle!" However, his disposition was again to be undermined, for Vissarion replied "I don't think so because the gentleman currently accompanying me is not the great conqueror. My companion is instead an ordinary soldier known for his remarkable resemblance to my master, who is safely bivouacked back at Tiflis, totally unaware of what is happening here. He has, in fact, been told nothing about Nicolai's abduction or your request for a meeting."
Despite this terrible revelation, Toqtamish still managed to retain some composure and responded perceptively "I suppose, boy, that this is the reason why you're doing all the talking?" The question was, of course, rhetorical because the shocked Mongol had already recognised the sagacity of his suggestion. He therefore continued, without waiting for an answer, by enquiring "Am I correct in assuming that you must be the wise young Vissarion of whom I have heard and the youth over there, leading your cavalry, is the very capable Arman?" His query was accompanied by the return of a broad smile, for, as with Nicolai five days earlier, the man liked and respected spunk.
"Your assumptions are correct," Vissarion advised, "but now you must ask a question of yourself. Do you want to die here and now for the sake of some of Tamerlane's boys because I can assure you that, if battle between us now commences, you will be the first to die? Arman's men have been instructed to rain their arrows initially on you and I can assure you that they will be deadly accurate!" Toqtamish nevertheless maintained his broad grin whilst he contemplated his response, having realised what the young Georgian was, in fact, hinting.
"We do indeed seem to be in some form of stalemate," Toqtamish remarked, "given that my forces and your own seem to be matched in numbers. I therefore presume that you intend to suggest that we peacefully back off each other and go our separate ways, lives intact." "You are again correct," Vissarion answered, "but only if you hand Nicolai and Yaroslav over to me."
"They're of no real consequence to me now," Toqtamish truthfully replied, before ordering his accompanying warrior to hand over the reins of the two young Muscovites' horses to the fake Tamerlane. The Mongol leader was rewarded with a polite "Thank you!" from Vissarion. The young Georgian then continued "There's also one other request. I'd like you not to disturb Nicolai's family again in future. In return, I shall not acquaint the conqueror of what has happened here for I think that you can appreciate how he would react if he ever learnt about your perfidy. He would hunt you to the end of the world!"
"Your request will be met," Toqtamish, appreciative of the reality of Vissarion's threat, advised before asking "but please tell me one thing before I depart. What would you have done if I had been serious about meeting Tamerlane to discuss peace?" "I'm afraid," the young Georgian responded, "that I never seriously considered that your offer was genuine, despite any falsehood clearly breaking your people's code of honour. Your personal history told me from the beginning that the whole enterprise was a trap. However, I also reasoned that, if I was wrong and you were truly interested in securing peace, you would not have minded my exploratory expedition to prove that my master would be safe or another 5 days' wait for the conqueror to be summoned from Tiflis."
Vissarion did not have to add why he really thought Toqtamish would be prepared to dishonour himself. The perceptive young Georgian simply knew that the Mongol leader would be prepared to sell his soul to the devil in return for capturing Tamerlane.
Despite the obvious admonition of Toqtamish's actions in Vissarion's words, the Mongol leader again retained his composure and instead complimented the young Georgian. "I see, boy," the man announced, "that tales that you are wise beyond your tender years are indeed true. I could use such wise council. I'm therefore prepared to offer you vast lands and great wealth to return with me to Rus." However, the 16 years old did not hesitate to provide a polite retort to what he appreciated was a genuine invitation. "My loyalty remains with the great Tamerlane!" the young eunuch declared.
Despite this further disappointment, Toqtamish's admiring smile did not falter. The Mongol leader instead commented "Faithful, as well as beautiful, brave and wise. I'm afraid that I can't help but be very jealous of Tamerlane, having such estimable young servants." Vissarion blushed at the compliment.
"Well, boy," Toqtamish now announced, "it seems our business here is done. I have a feeling, though, that we'll meet again some day. However, next time, I'll know that I'll be up against truly worthy adversaries, and I'm not just referring to Tamerlane. Farewell!" The Mongol leader then signalled to his men, who grouped themselves round him before setting off in a northerly direction.
Arman, reacting to a signal from Vissarion, regrouped his own cavalry to permit the Mongols to pass peacefully. Meanwhile, the young Georgian and fake Tamerlane had dismounted and were busy untying Nicolai and Yaroslav. Both young Muscovites had tears of thankfulness in their eyes at their narrow escapes.
Vissarion and Nicolai subsequently hugged each other, whilst the lachrymose young Muscovite repeated "Thank you!" several times, with immense thankfulness. Arman then joined in the reunion celebrations before Yaroslav was formally introduced to his brother's friends by the older sibling.
(North Georgia, that night)
Nicolai was lying face down and naked on the camp bed in the tent now shared not only with Vissarion but also with Arman, Teimuraz and Yaroslav. The 12 years old Muscovite's gorgeous face exhibited a pained expression, as one of the 16 years old Georgian's fingers gingerly entered his hurting rectum.
Vissarion's digit was covered with proficient healing salve, designed to help to repair the damage caused to his fellow eunuch's anal walls by Toqtamish's mighty member. Earlier, all the lads had related their recent experiences, as well as confirming that the conqueror would never be told of what had happened. The 16 years old Georgian was intent on keeping his word to the Mongol leader. Tamerlane's boys were also still fearful that their master might relapse into mental depression if he learnt that one of his young catamites had been seriously endangered once more.
Vissarion's bodyguards had been appraised of his plan of subterfuge so that they would react appropriately when the fake Tamerlane arrived in north Georgia with Arman. The man might have fooled Toqtamish but he would have been unable to repeat the same feat with his fellow soldiers, many of whom knew him well. The young Georgian had also acquainted Arman of his plans when he had sent his message to the young Armenian, which particularly highlighted the need to keep their master ignorant about events.
Accordingly, Arman had left Tiflis supposedly on a hunting expedition, with a few of Sibur's cavalry as bodyguards. This was why the numbers reinforcing Vissarion's small force and been so few.
Sibur had not been told of Arman's true purpose in leaving Tiflis either. The young man was required to remain behind because his primary duty, and that of his men, was to protect Tamerlane.
Arman therefore felt it best not to tell his lover of his real intentions, in case worry might somehow make the young cavalry officer unintentionally indiscrete.
(Tiflis, Georgia, two days later, July 1393)
Vissarion secured the silence of his own bodyguards and those of Arman, on their return to Tiflis and the conqueror's main army, through a subtle mix of reward and threat. The young Georgian furtively obtained some gold from his master's mobile treasury, the guardian not daring to question one of Tamerlane's highly trusted boys when the request had been made. This largesse considerably enriched the men, who themselves knew better than to defy the 16 years old's accompanying warning as to what might accrue if any later proved unwisely indiscrete.
Vissarion actually believed that the men would have remained silent anyway, out of respect for the wishes of Tamerlane's highly popular boys and worry about the consequences if they did not adhere to the lads' known desires. However, the gold was a reasonable reward for their help and the verbal warning was a useful reminder about the possible results of disloyalty. The young Georgian had not liked using such a threat to loyal warriors but they had been financially compensated and, after all, his master's health was more important than soldiers' sensibilities.
One awkward actuality to explain to Tamerlane was, of course, the sudden appearance of Nicolai's younger brother. However, the conqueror was not told any lies about the 8 years old's sudden arrival in Georgia, far from his home. He was instead simply not advised about the whole truth.
The clever Vissarion, who despised being untruthful, told Tamerlane that Yaroslav had been taken from his family by the Mongols as a replacement hostage for Nicolai. The boy had subsequently been taken to the Caucasus and northern Georgia, where he had somehow miraculously escaped from his captors and, even more miraculously, come across his older brother.
The tale's outline was, of course, essentially correct but there were many dangerous questions that Tamerlane could have asked of Yaroslav about his literally fantastic adventure. However, Vissarion suggested, again not untruthfully, that the 8 years old had not fully recovered from the trauma of his experiences and so it would be best not to ask the boy to recount them. Fortunately, as ever, the conqueror followed the beautiful young Georgian's advice.
Tamerlane's boys, however, could not help but smile between themselves when, during their happy, embrace-filled reunion with their master, the conqueror made what was, to them, a very amusing remark.
Tamerlane declared "Well, apart from the wondrous miracle involving Yaroslav, I'm glad that my boys had a quiet, safe time on their travels!"
(Spadonis Monastery, western Armenia, August 1393)
Tamerlane and his army had relocated to Erivan [now Yerevan], Armenia, once more before intending to return to winter in Persia. This gave Arman the opportunity to visit the Spadonis Monastery, a few days west of the capital city. His interest in the beautiful Bible he had seen in the church in Tiflis had encouraged him to make the trip, accompanied by his young squire and bodyguard, to see the local monks at their excellent work. The other three boys of Tamerlane had remained behind to look after their master and the newcomer, Yaroslav.
The abbot was expecting the visit because of an exchange of correspondence between him and Arman, conveyed by one of Tamerlane's mounted messengers, of whom there were many to keep the conqueror in touch with the various parts of his large Empire. The young Armenian had politely sought permission for his trip and the monastic leader had granted the youth's request.
The abbot had acquiesced for two reasons. He did not consider it wise to refuse one of the boys of the dreaded Tamerlane. He also wanted revenge.
The abbot was fanatical about his unique brand of chaste monastic Christianity and, like the priest in Tiflis, he consequently hated Muslim homosexual male whores. He also despised Arman in particular, even though he had never met the youth, because he was not only one of the boys of Tamerlane, who had earlier so devastated Armenia and his monastery, but also the son of the last Emir, deposed and beheaded by the conqueror.
Although the Emir, during his reign, had respected local Christian institutions, the abbot had deeply despised the fact that Armenia had been subjugated to Muslim rule. The arrival of Arman at his monastery therefore provided the man with the ideal opportunity to reek vengeance on an appropriate symbol of all his resentment, namely the youth himself.
The abbot had already prepared Arman's accommodation, where he proposed that the youth would spend the rest of his life. It was a large gloomy dank cellar, dominated by a wheel three times the size of a man, which used human leg power to draw water up to the hilltop monastery from a deep well.
The arduous task to provide the necessary energy to fill up the monastery's water tanks was generally allocated to miscreant monks, with the new 14 years old eunuch amongst their number recently spending much time operating the facility. The boy's genital wound had healed but he had found that adapting to the harsh new monastic regime was very difficult. Accordingly, he was allocated much punishment at the wheel.
Those turning the wheel were always naked, their habits having being set aside. Despite their shame, most were actually grateful for this because, otherwise, the heat and sweat engendered by their bodies would have been intolerable, despite the coolness of their surrounds. The abbot therefore did not propose to waste any clothing on the new permanent operator of the facility at all once he permanently commenced his difficult demeaning duties. Arman would always be kept nude after his painful, damaging initiation, as would his younger co-worker.
The abbot had been delighted to discover that Arman would be visiting the monastery with his young squire, as the younger boy would provide the leverage with which to induce the young Armenian to acquiesce to his dreadful fate. Naturally, both fresh recruits to the order would afterwards be converted, like all other monastic residents, into eunuchs.
Arman and Teimuraz had already been acquainted with, and had accepted, the fact that military personnel, as represented by their bodyguard, would not be permitted into the holy sanctuary. The 16 and 10 years olds had also agreed to enter the monastery unarmed. Having learnt about the young Armenian's character, the abbot was therefore confident that he could blackmail the youth, with threats to his young squire's life, to announce to all and sundry, including Tamerlane and his other boys, that he had seen the true light as a result of his visit.
Arman would declare his sudden miraculous conversion to Christianity and desire to remain as a monk in the Spadonis Monastery, a wish to be shared by Teimuraz. Members of the order were renowned not only for their literary artwork and chastity, enforced by a knife, but also for their obedience to the requirements of silent solitude. Only the abbot was allowed to speak and receive guests, whilst his colleagues were expected to refuse to meet any outsiders.
Hence, after their coerced entry into holy orders, no-one outside the monastery would expect to be able to see Arman and Teimuraz again. The abbot therefore smiled as he mulled over his clever evil plans once more. He now believed that they could not fail to achieve the retribution he felt was his due against a young person who was not only a Muslim, and one of Tamerlane's boys, but also the son of the last Emir of Armenia.
(Erivan, Armenia, one week later, August 1393)
Vissarion was shocked to receive Arman's letter, delivered by his friend's bodyguard contingent, who had returned sadly to Tamerlane's encampment in Erivan, without the popular youth they were supposed to protect. However, the writing, in Armenian, was definitely that of the 16 years old.
The letter described Arman's miraculous conversion to Christianity and desire to remain as a monk in the Spadonis Monastery, a wish shared by Teimuraz. However, Vissarion simply could not believe the veracity of the message and so set out for the monastic establishment, with both his own and his friend's bodyguards, to check.
Vissarion did not want to trouble his master with the news until he had ensured that Arman's appalling announcement was true. Fortunately, the conqueror was away from his encampment on a lengthy bear hunting expedition, accompanied by Nicolai, Rezan, Yarolsav and Sibur. Tamerlane had decided that it was time to acquire at least one fresh bearskin for his huge bed for the winter ahead, given that he now usually slept with three boys. The conqueror was also aware that it appeared that the delightful younger Muscovite was to stay on a long-term basis.
Vissarion had remained behind in Erivan to await the return of his oldest closest friend, intending that he and Arman would follow his master later. However, the young Georgian instead sent a truthful message to Tamerlane stating that, for now, he had decided to visit Spadonis Monastery first because the young Armenian had embarked on an extended stay there.
Naturally, Vissarion did not indicate, in his message to the conqueror, how prolonged Arman intended his stay to be.
(Spadonis Monastery, western Armenia, a few days later, August 1393)
Vissarion and his similarly mounted bodyguard had negotiated the narrow vertiginous path, which climbed the crag on which the grim foreboding Spadonis Monastery was perched. The beautiful young blonde blue-eyed eunuch was now looking up at the walled battlement above, from where Arman, Teimuraz and the abbot peered down at him.
Arman had already shouted down, in Georgian, a language the abbot knew, that, although the youth could speak, as he had not yet been fully initiated as a monk, he was not permitted any guests because he had begun his training to be a novice. Apparently for this purpose, the young mounted visitor now noticed that his handsome young Armenian friend was already wearing a coarse short-sleeved habit, which extended to just below his unclothed loins. The 16 years old had also had his once lovely long dark brown hair cropped short, in a rather ugly fashion.
Teimuraz's voice and appearance then confirmed the same circumstances for him too. It was accordingly frustratingly obvious to Vissarion that he was as close to his friends as he was going to achieve and that therefore their discussion would have to proceed in these awkward inhospitable circumstances.
Nevertheless, Vissarion, ignorant that all of the members of this particular monastic order were eunuchs, proceeded with his delicate interrogation of Arman and Teimuraz with great care, trying to avoid upsetting any delicate sensitivities whilst, at the same time, reaching the truth about his friends' positions. However, the response from both 16 and 10 years olds concerning their situations was bravely convincing, given their perilous predicament. They even proficiently gently repudiated their young visitor's attempts to change their minds about the action they proposed to take, despite the fact that the 16 years old Georgian had delivered his genuinely heart-felt entreaties with skilled diplomacy, necessitated because he was challenging decisions supposedly induced by people's religious convictions.
The stance of Arman and Teimuraz was, however, considerably reinforced by the fact that arrows, in bows carried by certain senior monks within the monastery, were not only furtively aimed at their backs but also at Vissarion's chest. The abbot's courageous young captives actually felt little trepidation for their own welfare but cared much for that of their friends, sufficient not to want to endanger them in any way. Their acting was therefore nobly proficient, much to their captors' delight.
Vissarion, having finally been convinced about the truth of his friends' intent, and his inability to dissuade them, eventually made his distant, heart-rendering farewells to his oldest and newest friends, before leaving the scene, unashamedly crying profusely. As the sad young Georgian and his bodyguard made their way back down the crag to the plain far below, the 16 years old's thoughts centred round Arman's last-ever words to him.
"By staying," Arman had announced with confidence, "I follow the old Georgian proverb that 'Heaven expects loyal prayers'!"
(Western Armenia, the next night, August 1393)
The deeply unhappy Vissarion and his bodyguard had advanced halfway back towards Erivan and had camped for the night. The melancholic young Georgian eunuch was now alone in his tent, incapable of eradicating Arman's last words from his mind.
Vissarion kept hearing over and over his oldest closest friend declaring "By staying, I follow the old Georgian proverb that 'Heaven expects loyal prayers'!" Meanwhile, unknown to the young Georgian, back at the Spadonis Monastery, Arman was gaining an early introduction to his awful new existence, as the naked 16 years old Armenian approached exhaustion whilst turning a huge wheel.
Arman, hands chained to stationary posts either side of the wheel, was encouraged to work well by a monk behind him, holding a vicious multi-thonged whip, which had already left a number of sanguine lines on the youth's bare back and bottom. Nearby, a nude and much more diminutive Teimuraz waited fearfully for his turn to operate the dreadful contraption.
(Spadonis Monastery, western Armenia, the next night, August 1393)
Arman was escorted into the main chapel of the monastery by the two stern adult monks who had been training him for this defining moment and for his future life. Loud droning incantations emerged from the many other monks present, lining the walls of the chapel, as the 16 years old advanced towards the gloomy altar, illuminated only by a vast array of candles.
The petrified Arman noticed that the altar was decorated by a huge golden cross and an icon depicting a Biblical scene, showing Abraham, knife raised, about to sacrifice a naked Isaac at God's request.
The customary old sturdy trellis table had also been temporarily positioned before the altar and Arman was soon led in front of its dark surface. The 16 years old's body visibly quivered at the close-up view, for he knew full well what the sanguine ingrained stains on the tabletop represented.
Arman was terrified but nevertheless now followed his instructions well, being even more fearful of the consequences for Teimuraz, of which he had been appraised, if he did not. The 16 years old therefore knelt before the table and altar to pray briefly before standing again and allowing his pair of attendant monks to remove his crude short sleeveless habit, which represented his only cover.
Arman's sublime naked form, genitalia recently shaved of all hair, now came into view in the candlelight, his cock rigid. The 16 years old was not shocked at this humiliating phenomenon, despite the frightful circumstances he found himself in, for he had been prevented from securing final sexual relief through masturbation, whilst resting in chains on the cold floor next to the terrible wheel.
The nude Arman knelt and prayed briefly once more before allowing his pair of attendant monks to help him lay himself face up on the waiting table. The petrified 16 years old, penis still hard and throbbing, then meekly permitted his spreadeagled limbs to be bound securely to the leather cords located at each corner of the cool wooden surface. A gag was firmly inserted into his trembling young mouth, not primarily to silence him but rather to prevent his teeth causing any harm during the dreadful ritual to come. Meanwhile, the loud monastic chanting continued remorselessly.
Arman, now barely capable of movement, then felt his ball sac being tightly tied, before his attendant monks stepped to one side and the abbot approached the scene.
The abbot knelt before the table to utter his own prayers before standing at the side of the nude splayed Arman. The man's arm was raised into the air and the 16 years old saw for the first time the ancient knife that had emasculated all of the monks present, and their predecessors, and was now about to do the same to him.
The abbot introduced his knife to the middle of Arman's ball sac, just underneath the large vertically erect throbbing penis. Copious amounts of white cum then shot, like a fountain, out of the youth's cockhead slit, to land all over his chest, belly and legs, and down the sides of his rigid penile shaft, as his beautiful young body spasmed in intense ecstasy whilst the abbot began his delicate expert incision. The man ignored the not uncommon final ejaculation of semen, when the substance began to flow over the 16 years old's smooth scrotum, and instead concentrated on finishing his cut down the middle of the sac.
The abbot then exposed the tiny cord that connected Arman's body to a white testicle that, with its partner, made the owner a true male. However, the man did not intend to leave the new novice, lovely form still quaking in final acute orgasm, waiting long to have his sexuality ruined permanently, as he aimed his razor-sharp blade to sever this initial orb.
Meanwhile, nearby, Teimuraz again waited fearfully for his turn to follow Arman.
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