Chapter 2

Aurelia’s story: Noble District, Constantinople, a few days earlier.

“Aurelia!!!!” the women called out “Devil takes you Aurelia” she cursed out.   The women had spent a good half an hour trying to find her daughter to inform her of the good news.  The woman has had handfuls of her daughter’s mischief ever since she was young, her disappearing whenever there were important matters related to the family were but one of them.

The woman passed by a household slave.  “Have you seen Aurelia?” the women asked the slave.  “Yes milady, she’s in the courtyard with that Moorish man” the women didn’t bother to thank the slave as she hurried off to the courtyard.  As she made her way down the hallway which led to the courtyard, she heard the clashing of metal on metal.  “Oh dear, I hope she is not exhausting herself again.”

“Downward stroke woman or you die on your knees” the Moorish man said cursing loudly while sweating hard as he swung with his right arm, striking the training sword that she lowered.  “Like hell I will Jamal” she said as she swung the shield strapped to her left arm at Jamal’s head.  He spun on the heel of his foot to dodge the strike and he blocked with his left sword with her right sword strike

“I’ve told you many times before Aurelia” Jamal said with a smile as sweat was rolling down his face “two swords are better than one” he finished saying as he crossed the two swords across his chest.  Aurelia tucked her sword underneath her left arm, as she wiped away the sweat from her face “an excellent swordsmen you are Jamal” she said as she was wiping her neck with a towel she had picked up from a nearby bench “but can you dodge this” she said as she had thrown the towel at Jamal.

She lunged at him with her training sword in hopes of catching him off-guard, but failed to do so as he batted her stroke away as easily as he would bat away a fly and then spun around her with his chest to her back.  “That’s not the first you’ve tried that and yet you still try that trick anyway” he said as she regained her fighting stance.  He tossed the sword in his left hand to her, hoping that she would take his earlier advice.

She frowned at him “I need no favors from a man, especially you Jamal” she responded as she charged at him with a down ward, two-handed slash that connected with Jamal’s sword, forcing the two into a deadlock.  They continued back and forth until Aurelia tripped and fell backwards into the reflecting pool of the courtyard with a loud splash.  The slaves that had been watching either smiled or suppress a giggle, while Jamal laughed out loud as he offered her a hand.

“Another one of my lessons that you have forgotten: always beware of your surroundings” she grabbed his hand with a look of disappointment and self-scorn as she was brought upon the courtyard cobblestone, soaking wet in her leather training outfit that revealed more of her feminine parts than one should.  “Aurelia” a voice shouted that Aurelia hated hearing that voice more often than never.  She turned to see her mother Aria quickstep her way across the cobblestone pavement, which sent the servants away to tend to the duties that they should have been doing, leaving only a few including Aurelia, Jamal and her mother alone in the courtyard.

“Look at you” she sighed “I hope you haven’t been to too hard on the girl Jamal” she said with an accusing stare.  Jamal just looked back at Aurelia “You leave him alone mother” she said with a scornful voice “he was only teaching me more lessons about proper swordplay” she was saying as Aria was wiping away the hair that covered her daughter’s face.  “Well at least she didn’t bruise you that badly, for today’s a very special day for you.”

Aurelia’s gut churned as it always did when her mother told her of special news.  She had been set up with arranged marriage after arranged marriage since she was twelve years old.  She hated being setup with such men.  They were often the same type of men: chauvinistic pigs that had lots of wealth, lots of titles and prestige’s but still managed to treat her like she was some sort of household item rather than a person.

“What bastard son of a whore did you manage to set me up with this time?” Aurelia said as if she wasn’t surprised to know what the news was.  “Cornelius Vorca is nothing of the sort” Aria said with a frown as she grabbed Aurelia’s arm, dragging her away from the courtyard.  “He happens to be connected with the court and his family’s involvement with the military has helped the Byzantine Empire for generations, so you mind your tongue little girl” she finished.  Aurelia was shocked by the course of events that befallen her.

Her mother had never been this serious before, what would motivate her to want to force into the marriage of one of the most important families in the empire.  What was her reason for doing this?  The questions were racing through her mind as her mother had dragged her to the bathing room.  “Help her out of those filthy clothes, clean her and make sure she is dressed in something proper” Aria commanded the slaves.

“So you want me to look and smell like a whore for that sexiest pig?” she said with a scornful remark as she tried to resist having her training clothes removed, but utterly failed as the slaves removed her leather chest guard, cotton skirt and loincloth, that fully exposed her alabaster colored skin on her naked body and large bulbous breasts, that made her the only real reason men wanted her.  “Why don’t you just parade me before him like this? She said thrusting her chest out.  “And make you look worse than in front of the Byzantine court then you already have?” Aria said sternly as she personally started removing Aurelia’s armguards quickly while another female slave was undoing her sandals.

“Besides you forget the fact that if hadn’t been for your uncle, my brother, we would have fallen into poverty if it hadn’t been for his connections to the court.”  “Then why don’t you tell him I don’t want this?” Aurelia cried out.  “Because you’re not getting any younger, I eventually want to be a grandmother and your uncle’s favor with the court can only do so much” Aria said plainly as she grabbed Aurelia and threw her into bath.

Female slaves approached her in the bath just as Aurelia surfaced to give her mother a scorned look but wasn’t able to because her mother just stormed out of the room.  With a look of defeat on her face, Aurelia just stood there in the bath, letting the slaves clean her up and wash her golden brown hair as she waited for her day of doom.

Aria didn’t find Jamal in the courtyard where she had left him; she then figured he would be in his own personal quarters that she and her brother had given him years ago.  She had originally hired him as a bodyguard for Aurelia at the request of her brother Germanus.  Not only was he an expert swordsman and boxer, but also the fact that his particular religion prevented him from being sexually promiscuous and a heavy drinker, both were the main factors that led her to hire him.  Jamal was a Muslim from Baghdad who had fought as a sell-sword for the Seljuk Empire that fought the crusader states and not fellow Muslims.

Aria sneered at that particular thought.  It was because of the crusades that the byzantine had lost so much of its former territory because of those stinking Catholics and their so-called holy war.  She often feared that one day in Aurelia’s life that the Byzantine Empire might be weakened by such a pointless conflict to the point where it would fall and then what would happen? She often asked herself.

She pondered that as she reached the door to Jamal’s quarters.  She knocked on the door several times.  “You may enter” Jamal’s smooth voice said on the other side.  Aria entered his room, it was quite a simple room, with a pray rug in the middle of the room facing the direction of Mecca, an incense burner that hung from a corner along with a suit of armor and a few of Jamal’s personal weapons, a window overlooking the Bosporus that was above his bed and simple desk for him to write next to.  He was stripped down to the waist leaving his ripped chest exposed as he was polishing a scimitar.   Aria couldn’t help admiring the Arab Adonis so much, that it made her cunt wet, but she had to restrain herself on account of the fact that it wouldn’t be fair to Jamal whose faith prevented people like him from being sexually active.  It was then he noticed who had entered his room.

He was about to stand up to make the proper formalities, but Aria gave a dismissing gesture “it’s alright Jamal, no-one’s watching” she said with a smile.  “Apologies madam, it’s how I was raised” he said bowing his head as he put the sword aside on the bed and then rose to his feet.  “Aurelia is arranged to be married” Aria said plainly.  Jamal took a teapot from a small stove next to his bed; he then grabbed to teacups and poured the tea into both cups.  “Forgive me for saying this madam, but Aurelia hasn’t been much for arranged marriages, what makes this one so important that you would come to me?” he asked as he handed Aria a tea cup, clinking the glasses together as they both took sips of tea.

“She’s arranged to be married to Cornelius Vorca” she said as Jamal finished his tea with a concerned look on his face.  “The Vorca family has done some things that most people find questionable” Jamal said “I hear whispers from my people in the Muslim quarter that he practices cannibalism, human sacrifices and  various sexual acts” he finished with a sound of disgust in his voice.  “I also hear talk of him being involved with favoritism of the Crusader states and the Catholic church, which is not sitting well with your Orthodox Church leaders” he finished.

“I know what they say about the Vorca family” Aria said “But after what he said to my brother, I had no alternative but to submit to his demands” she said with what Jamal could tell was there was fear in her voice.  “What could Vorca do to you that I could not prevent?” Jamal asked quizzically.  “I was hired by you on behalf of your brother as a bodyguard for you and Aurelia.  If Vorca was going to do anything to you or Aurelia, he would be greeting whatever pagan god he worships personally” he said with steel in his voice.

“You can’t protect me and Aurelia from what he has in mind” Aria stated.  “He has connections to the royal court and they would kill you if dared to raise your sword against him” she said quivering “Then he would have the excuse needed to attack me and my brother, as well as Aurelia” she felt weak in the knees.  Jamal took her by the shoulders and helped her to sit down on his bed.  “Then if we can’t raise arms against him, what can be done?” Jamal asked.  It was then Aria gave him her solution.

Chapter 1

The man woke up with a probably what was considered the worst headache he had ever experienced in his life.  He could barely open his eyes without his head hurting worse than it did.  He tried to move, but as he lifted his arms they felt heavy.  When he was able to open eyes completely he saw why.  He had been chained to the wall.  He also noticed that his legs were also chained as well.

He didn’t have to have his eyes open completely to know that he was in a dungeon.  The place was lit with only a single torch come from the cell room door window from the outside and there was an obnoxious smell from with the cell.  The man looked around and then saw a rotting corpse in the corner, being chewed on by rats.  The smell would not have bothered him as much if he didn’t have such a fucking headache.

He once again tested the chains when he noticed how much blood had stained his chest.  He also noted that his left arm had been slick with blood.  It was then he remembered who he was.

The Marmara Sea, off the coast of Constantinople, a few days earlier.

“Pride of the Mongol Empire you are” Kasar laughed at Altan.  “Fuck you Kasar, you may have the sea legs to stand this crap, but you have the brains of a drunken mule” Altan shot back.  Kasar threw his head back and laughed “and damn proud of it you worthless whelp, back when you were just sucking your mothers teat, I was sinking ships faster than our enemies could build them.”  Atlan wiped his mouth “But then again your just a stinking half-breed, not a full bloodied Mongol, Kasar” he stabbed back.  Atlan had said the one thing no man ever dared say to Kasar.

It was true that Kasar was only half Mongolian and the other half Persian, but it still didn’t change the fact that those who mocked Kasar’s lineage wound up facing his wraith and regretting it.  His father had been one of the fiercest swordsmen of his tribe and his mother had been a merchant’s daughter from Tehran.  When Temujin conquered the Persian region of the Khwarezmian Empire, his mother’s family gave her to his father, as well as several fineries, in hopes of promoting peace.

His father had given over the fineries to his troops, but claimed the women for himself.  At first she was frightened of her experience with a warrior as fierce as his father, but she didn’t regret being with him after a while, when she realized how well he treated her.  It was only a year later that they gave birth to their son, Kasar.

“By Tengri” he said snarling as he began reaching for his sword on his left hip.  It was a large Persian Scimitar given to him by his father, who had received it as a reward for his help in capturing a Persian officer.  “The last whelp who dared call me that met his ancestors.”  “Then you should get well acquainted with them” Atlan said as he began drawing his equestrian sword “you’ll be joining them shortly.”  They both circled each other to see which one would falter first.  The crew members watched them with amusement.  Then, the two charged each other; they both swung their swords overhead with their right arms.

 Just when they thought it they would hit each other they then struck a sword that had come out from nowhere and blocked their downward strokes.  “You guys really should stick to wrestling” a friendly voice said.  They turned to see the youthful but friendly face of a comrade with dark brown eyes a fur trimmed hat and a trimmed goatee.  “Besides, how would the representatives of the Byzantine react to see two men bloodied and beaten?” he finished.  “You have a point there stripling” Kasar said as he withdrew his sword and then sheathed it.  “Saved by a whelp, you’re getting old Kasar” Atlan sneered with his sword still pointed at Kasar’s chest.  The young man stepped in front of Kasar with his sword pointed at Atlan, with the tip of it at his throat.

“Anything happens to him and it will be you that joins your ancestors” the young man’s face remained calm and cold.  Atlan lowered his sword, sheathed it and spat in disgust.  “The Khan will know of this Batzorig” Atlan said with a look of contempt.  “He will indeed” the young man known as Batzorig replied as he sheathed his sword “and then you can explain to him why you hold such a grudge against one of the Mongol Empire’s fiercest swordsmen” he finished.  Kasar gave a wolfish smile.  “Besides, haven’t you forgotten that you have fallen out of favor with the Great Khan?” Batzorig finished.

It was no secret that Atlan and Kasar hated each over there birthrights.  Kasar being the son of a Mongol Cavalry officer and his mother a Persian Merchant’s daughter and that Atlan’s family had served as the Khan’s Kheshig for generations.  However, Atlan himself had fallen out of favor with Kublai Khan when he picked a fight with another Kheshig over the matter of some stolen horses to trade for a women’s hand in marriage.  The other man had no idea what he had been talking about, but Atlan had still chosen to pursue the matter to the point where it lead to swords being drawn.

By the time it could be broken up, the other man had lost his left eye and Atlan his honor.  The Khan had made it clear to Atlan that if he ever wanted to reclaim his place of honor, he would have to be amongst those who did the most in fighting and dying long enough to know what being a real Mongol was, to not cause disputes based on just a pointed finger and not to be greedy like most of the so-called civilized folks in other parts of the world.

Kasar just simply despised of Atlan because he felt the most of the Kheshig were too civilized to be considered true Mongols.  Only being half-Mongolian made him ever more proud of his heritage.  He had known civilized folk as well as Batzorig.

“Very well then, boy” Atlan cursed as he stormed down the decks of the ship.  Batzorig sheathed his sword and turned back to Kasar.  “Showed him well there lad” Kasar grasped Batzorig’s hand in friendship.  From another person’s point of view, the two could be considered father and son, but with two differences.  The first being their choice in facial and head hair styles: where Batzorig had a trimmed goatee and long hair with four locks of braided hair that came down to his shoulders, and that Kasar had a handle bar mustache with a single lock of braided hair down the back of his otherwise shaved head.

The second being the fact that Kasar was not Batzorig’s father, but more like an uncle to him, Batzorig’s father had been killed in battle against the Song Dynasty troops.  His father had made a pledge of brotherhood to Kasar and promised that if one should fall, the other would look out for their family.  Kasar had taken in the young Batzorig, along with the lad’s grandfather, who also helped raise him in the Mongol ways. By the time Batzorig had come of age to serve the Khan, he had already been well trained in the arts of war both on and off a horse.

Sword, spear, lance and bow, it didn’t matter what part of the empire the weapons came from.  He also learned wrestling and what his Mongol brothers had called “Chinese Boxing” from Kasar and his shipmates.  Despite the fact that he had no clan to claim of his own, Batzorig was destined for greater things.  So much so that he caught the eye of the Mongol court.  Ever since then, he had been in service to the Khan as something of a one-man army.

“Kasar I have a question?” Batzorig asked as let go of his grip on Kasar.  “If we are here as emissary’s for the Khan, why are the Byzantine having us make port so far south of the other ports?”  Kasar spat in contempt “It’s because those Byzantine are a bunch of civilized curs that think us Mongols are nothing but a rabble of filthy dogs” he maintained a look of contempt “they think because they have fineries, wealth, fancy clothing and what they call religion” he said sneering “that they are better than us.”

“Then why doesn’t the great Khan just have us ride in on horseback where real Mongols belong and burn this pathetic part of the world down to the ground, right after we take all that it’s worth?” a Mongol sailor said.  Batzorig smiled “Because if the great Khan wanted us to do that, he wouldn’t be sending us out in the first place, no would he?”  The sailor shrugged “I suppose so, but when it comes to religion, don’t give me any of that crap about this God they talk so highly about."  Batzorig raised an eyebrow “I don’t follow”.  The Mongol pointed his left thumb towards a dark skinned sailor.  “That there is Abdul, best sailor I have ever shared the deck with.  He comes from Lebanon and he can’t go back.”  “Why can’t he go back?”  Batzorig asked.

“Because those servants of god” he rolled his eyes “are butchering and slaughtering people of his religion, because they think that will appease there god and the reclaiming of their so called holy lands.”  Batzorig still had a look of confusion, but Kasar gave him a slap on the back that snapped him out of it.  “Give me Tengri any day” he gave a hearty laugh “at least he doesn’t ask much from us Mongols.”

Batzorig smiled at that notion as he looked back at the sea.  He could see the docks and the Haiga Sophia was in view.  “Never in my life have I seen such a wonder” Batzorig said surprisingly.  Kasar put his hand on Batzorig’s left shoulder “That’s one thing civilized folk are good at, impressing us barbarians.”  Batzorig laughed along with Kasar.

As the sun was setting over the southern docks and the Mongol ship was in the process of docking, many of the local citizens were closing their shops, heading home or out to indulge themselves in questionable vices of the evening.  Around the docks were mostly ships from other parts of the world that wanted to trade with the Byzantine.  Most of the people around at this particular time were the merchants and sailors that had arrived from long journeys, dockhands finishing their tasks for the evenings, fishermen coming in with the latest and last catch of the day and the local sentries that were assigned to patrol the docks for any suspicious activity.

None was more suspicious than the man who was hiding in the shadows between the warehouses that were on the docks.  The man had been an assassin had been hired by a powerful family to observe the movements of the Mongol emissary’s arrival.  He didn’t know who he was looking for just yet, but he had had been informed by his informants, that it was young Mongol.

He observed the men disembarking from the ship, looking for the youngest person amongst them.  He then noticed a Mongol that looked no older than twenty-one years.  The assassin smiled coldly in the dark.  He then melted back into the shadows of the early night to report back to his master.

Batzorig once again tested his chains to see if he could break them like he had broken many chains in times past, but to no avail.  He once again looked around his cell for some that could be used to break the chains, but he couldn’t move very far within the cell without feeling the tightness of the chains or the pains from his wounds.  Just as he thought about giving up, he heard footsteps coming to his cell.

He had hoped that whatever civilized cur that came in would stupid enough to get close enough to him to grab the keys and break loose the chains.  He went back to the corner where he had originally had woken up and pretended he was still unconscious.  The strangest thing was, is that the footsteps sounded too soft for that of a man.  “These civilized folk must be as soft with their walking as they are in life” Batzorig said to himself.

The moment the cell door opened he prepared himself to launch himself at the guard.  “Almost” as the chains to arms were undone.  Then the chains to his legs were undone “Now” as he threw himself at the guard.  The person he tackled yelped as Batzorig tackled the guard.  He was about ready to kill the guard by strangling the life out of him with his bare hands, when his knee felt something funny on the guard’s chest.

“What?” he said out loud as he lifted himself off the struggled guard.  As the guard rose to his feet, he removed his helmet to see that he was a she.  She had the most beautiful sea green eyes, something Batzorig had rarely seen east of the Mongol Empire and the most luscious looking hair that was tied into a bun on the back of her head.  She had the look of someone who was civilized, but also that of wealth and nobility.

 “Sending a woman to do a man’s job, is this how you civilized dogs plan to escort a man to his execution?” Batzorig said with a sneer.  “I am not here doing a man’s job and I am not here execute unless you give me an excuse not to.  My name is Aurelia and I am here to break you out.”

description

On April 4th 2012, I came across an online empire building game entitled “Uprising Empires” where you had to choose from four civilizations.  The Byzantine Empire, Ottoman Empire, Kingdom of Jerusalem and the Mongol Empire, naturally I choose the Mongol Empire due to the fact that the my field of work involves working with East Asian Studies.  It got me thinking about writing a historical fiction novel having to do with a fierce warrior from the steppes that meets a beautiful woman from the Byzantine Empire, who flees from an arranged marriage because she prefers a life of swordplay and adventure over a chauvinistic husband who desires money and power more than anything.

I plan to write a trilogy (or maybe not, let’s see where the story goes) filled with hot chicks, bloody gore, bloody battles and brawls, comical lines and plenty of adventure.  This particular series will leave you asking for more.

I plan to write the Mongol and the Maiden as the first installment in a series of novels.

Story

The main character of the story as I stated earlier is a Mongol warrior by the name of Batzorig (Meaning Strong Courage http://www.mongolia-travel-guide.com/mongolian-names.html) who has no clan of his own, yet serves the mongol horde in any method they deem fit.  He is sent by the horde to negotiate a treaty with the Byzantine Empire.  Upon arriving within Constantinople, he gets captured by a group of knights (or cataphracts) who serve a corrupt nobleman, bent on overthrowing emperor Michael VIII and expanding the Byzantine Empire by waging war on the Mongols and nearby Arabic kingdoms.  He is able to escape with the help of Aurelia, the fiancé of the man who captured him. 

She does so because she is a very free spirited woman, who desires a life of adventure and fighting.  Despite her lack of knowledge beyond what he calls “the softness of civilization”, he takes her along with him because he can tell that she has the eyes of a fighter.

I mainly want to do this as an amatuer's attempt at historical fiction