A Prince as an acrobat! Could there be a greater humiliation? Could
there be anything in existence calling for more bitter revenge?
"Which way did you come, and what towns did you touch?" asked Timur of
the Khan, who was seated at his feet.
"From Smyrna I escaped as a running footman. The people praised my
running to such an extent that I felt compelled to prove how far I could
go by running away altogether! In Aleppo I was a monkey-trainer! In
Bagdad I turned somersaults! In Damascus I climbed by a rope to the
Tower of Minarch! At Angora I put sharp swords into my throat; whilst in
Szivasz I swallowed burning coals before the son of the Sultan!"
Timur Lenk counted on his fingers the names of the towns as the Khan of
Aidin recapitulated them; Smyrna, Aleppo, Damascus, Bagdad, Angora,
Szivasz--not one stone of them should remain! And the people who had
been so amused by the acrobatic performances of a prince should bitterly
deplore this! Little time should be given them to lament!
"And your children?" asked Timur of his _protégé_.
The Khan gave a sigh.
"They are kissing the whips of Bajazet's slaves."
"They shall not do so long!"
Timur called Shacheddin before him, and had another letter written to
the Sultan, taking care that every time his name was mentioned it should
appear in a line with his in quite as large-sized letters, and not in
different ink; whilst, in accordance with his usual custom, he signed
his name at the top, not the bottom, of the page. The contents of the
missive were not couched in angry terms, though they were written in a
haughty manner.
"Do you not know that the greater portion of Asia is submissive to my
sword and my laws? Do you not know that my army reaches from one sea to
another, and that the world's rulers stand humbly at my doors imploring
to be heard! What is your boast to me? A victory over the Christians?
You have been victorious over them because the swords of the
prophet--blessed be Allah!--were in your hands. But who will defend you
against me? Your only protector is the Koran, whose commands I obey as
you do. Be wise! Do not despise your opponent because he was once
insignificant. When the locust grows up, and its wings become red, it
attacks the very birds who wished to consume it before!"
Timur's envoys carried the message to Bajazet as quickly as Arab horses
could gallop. In it he once more demanded that the captured towns of the
Khan of Aidin should be restored to him in peace and quietness, and that
his wife and children should be set at liberty, and he suggested that
the joint armies of the Sultan and himself should afterwards start
together and branch off in different directions, one east, the other
west--one to destroy the Pagans, the other the Christians. Timur's
messengers returned to his camp with Bajazet's reply, also as swiftly as
Arab horses could gallop. Hardly had he opened the letter when Timur's
face became flushed with anger. Bajazet's name was written in a
different line to his, and was at least an inch larger, whilst Timur's
name was similar in size to the rest of the lettering, and was in black
ink! The name of the Sultan was in historic characters ornamented with
gold. Nor were the contents of the letter couched in mild form. Timur
saw here no flattering terms. He was not styled Gurgan, or Djeihangir,
but "the Spoiler of Countries," "the Thief of the Desert," "the Worm,"
"the Crippled Man," &c.; and he had to read how his fame was disparaged,
his guns ridiculed, his requests mocked at, and his threats ignored.
"What I have conquered belongs to me, quite as much as does my own
country. Those whom I have captured are my slaves. If you want them,
come for them! Come, and bring with you your million soldiers with their
miserable arrows, who will be quickly scattered by my heroes as chaff
before the wind! Come, and find me face to face! Come! If not, may you
be thrice separated from your wife!"