The Black Clover 8
USUAL DISCLAIMER
"THE BLACK CLOVER" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.
THE BLACK CLOVER
by Andrej Koymasky © 2018
written on 3rd of April, 1986
Translated by the Author
English text kindly revised by an Australian friend
CHAPTER 8
S'SAAD
We had both recovered our health, but we were still guests in the small garrison of Hims' soldiers. They had kept us with them in exchange for many small services. As ever, in our free time, Amin and I trained. Soldiers were amused watching our physical exercises and sometimes they also fought with us, just for practice. We two became very skilled in the stick-fighting and often we were confronted with attacks, feints and parries where we showed off all our skill doing jumps, pirouettes and rapid somersaults. To tell the truth our training had become almost a performance, halfway between martial arts and acrobatics.
We were, one day, performing in front of a small group of soldiers and local people just outside the city walls, when a knight arrived. He stopped his horse and watched us for a long while, without dismounting. After a while he called a soldier and said something to him. The soldier turned toward his comrades and signalled them to approach. Again they spoke and the knight handed over to them something that looked like a rolled parchment. We two, and also the local people that had stopped to watch our exercises, watched with curiosity. The soldiers placed themselves at the sides of the knight in formation and escorted him into the city. We too followed them. One of the soldiers, when we were about to enter the garrison precincts, barred the way.
"Hey, do not you recognize us?" I asked, astounded.
"You can not enter now: this man is from the Great Mansur, the Sultan General who is about to come with his men from Baghdad. He will stop here in our city, to pass the night..."
"But... what about us?" I asked.
The soldier widened his arms as if to say that he did not know what to do, and said:
"Those are the orders, I can do nothing. You have to find accommodation elsewhere, at least for now."
I understood that it was useless to insist, so we withdrew a short way. I was discussing with Amin what to do, when the knight appeared on the garrison door and, turning to us, signalled us to approach him.
"I noticed you out there, outside of the walls. You are good, really skilled. What is your name?"
"I am Nadim ibn Yussuf and this is my brother Khaled, sir."
"I have heard from the commander that you survived an attack by the badaawin and that you are alive only by a miracle. What do you do now for a living?"
"Nothing, sir. We lost everything when the badaawin assailed us. We helped this garrison's soldiers a little, during our convalescence, to repay their hospitality, but now..."
"Have you ever handled a scimitar?" the man asked.
Before Amin could answer, I quickly said: "Never, sir. We are just a donkey breeder's sons. We just amuse ourselves with the sticks, my brother and I, to pass our time..."
"That is strange... you handled your sticks almost as a saber is handled... In a while the Great Mansur Ul Hajjim will arrive. I would like him to see you handling your sticks. Perhaps he could make two good soldiers out of you, if this appeals to you."
"Soldiers? I never thought about that, sir. I really do not know what to say..." I answered hesitantly.
The man told us to see him in the evening, if we decided his offer to be of interest for us, and went back into the garrison. At that point I consulted with Amin.
"What do you think about it?"
"Why not? It is possible that this is precisely the way Allah has prepared for us in His infinite wisdom..."
The general arrived with his soldiers: there were about two thousand men camped outside the walls, and only the chiefs entered the city. As evening fell we appeared at the garrison and were introduced to Mansur's presence. He was an imposing man - he was not Arab nor yet was he a Turk: we discovered later that he had been a yenicheri of european origins that the Sultan chose and raised to the general rank to control his frontier territories after seeing him fight at his side in the wars against the Russians. Mansur looked at us closely and said:
"Your skill has been highly praised. My man knows that I like to discover youths with a talent for weapons. If your skill is really equal to what I have heard about you, I will take you into my retinue. Here are two sabres. Let me see how you use them."
At that point I said: "Noble and powerful Lord, we never handled sabres, me and my younger brother, but just sticks, and a stick, at the most, bruises, does not wound... Can not we show you what we are able to do with our sticks?"
"If you are interested in being soldiers with me, you use those blades or you leave: to be soldier is not a game." Mansur answered looking me straight in the eyes.
I looked at Amin. He nodded faintly, more with his eyes than with a gesture. We took the two sabres, balancing them in our hands, then we started to use them as if they were our sticks. At first we made them circle for a while in order to get used to their weight and their different way of cleaving the air, then we started with one of our games. Years had elapsed since we used real sabres, but as little by little we felt more confident, we started to shift to more daring exercises. We were so accustomed to our games with the sticks that our movements were perfectly synchronized and each of us knew exactly what the other was going to do, and how and when. Little by little everyone's attention was attracted by our performance and even the soldiers who had seen us doing these exercises many times, using just innocuous sticks, started to shout amazed "oohs" and "aahs" at our skilled skirmish. After a while, in unison, we stopped and turned towards the general.
He nodded solemnly and said: "Yes, you really are skilled, it seems you were born with those weapons in hand. You succeeded in not even brushing each other, in spite of nearly always being in contact with the other's blade. Not bad, boys, a nice performance. But the real fighting is something else, war is not a game, a show. However, I will take you on. Tomorrow morning you can leave with us. In Istanbul you will be enlisted properly."
We happily accepted. That night we slept in the open, on bare ground, and the morning after we were ready to leave. We were then allotted two horses and temporarily allocated to a platoon of arab soldiers, natives of the El Gohr area, whose chief was named Annah or Hanah, I do not exactly remember. These men were coming back from a military campaign at the frontiers east of Baghdad, where they had tamed the revolt of a local Shaikh. Several men had died, so they had with them some horses without riders. Their manners were rough, but a kind of comradeship and a strict honour code were in force, so that it was not bad being with them. We rapidly got used to this ambience, thanks also to the fact that, even if with an accent different from ours, these men were speaking an arabic very close to that of our land.
The travel to the capital lasted a little more than one week. When at last we reached Istanbul, the vision of the city was something that took my breath away. If Damascus seemed to me marvellous, this town that was the center of the Empire, of the arts, of the islamic culture, seemed to me the quintessence of all wonders.
The army had been dissolved along the way, hence when we arrived at the city gates, we were little more than two hundred soldiers, veterans that were part of the regular army that was in the capital. Mansur led us with him and entrusted us to an enlisting officer, commanding him to assign us to his personal guard. We received uniforms, weapons, and equipment and were accompanied to Mansur's Palace, which stood near the Old Imperial Palace. Here we were entrusted to a young officer who's duty it was to train recruits. For several days we did nothing but training in fighting and getting used to the fellowship of our guard comrades.
At night, we had a wide board with a single straw mattress which we shared with three other soldiers, two Turks and a Thracian. The Turks were in their thirties and were enlisted about ten years before, so they were veterans; the Thracian, on the contrary, had been enlisted only a few months before and was the same age as myself.
We had to learn turkish, a strange and difficult language, very different from arabic even if it used many arabic words. Istanbul was a cosmopolitan town, where could be heard different languages and idioms and where could be seen people of all kind and races: asiatics, europeans and africans. It was fascinating for that also. But to speak turkish remained fundamental: it was the official language.
We had been living in the barracks of Mansur's guards for a few days when, during the night, one of the two turks that was lying near me, in the darkness started to feel between my legs trying to persuade me, without words, to have sex with him. I rejected him and he did not insist. Afraid he could try also with Amin, from the following night on, I made my Lord sleep between me and the wall. The turk, during the day, behaved as if nothing had happened, but at night he tried again a couple of times. His attempts to play with my member annoyed me, but at the same time provoked in me a strong arousal. To my relief, the turk finally gave up and did not try again. I soon discovered the reason why he had ceased to try with me: the thracian boy did not oppose any resistance to the silent proposal of the man, and soon, during the night, I often heard them unite and have sex.
What really did amaze me a little is that hearing, or better to say guessing, from the light rustling, from the rhythm of their breathing and from the movements no more than a handspan away from me, that the two were having a sexual intercourse, always aroused in me a condition of strong excitation. Perhaps it was due to the fact that I had no sexual intercourse even if my body desired it. The thracian and the turk became inseparable. The other soldiers, at times, went to certain premises where you could get women for a few coins. But I did not feel the least attracted by these vulgar and mercenary creatures, painted in tragicomic masks and covered with fake jewels and stifling perfumes.
DDAAD
We had been there for some months when the Sultan again sent Mansur on an expedition: this time to Armenia to suppress a rebellion. Mansur, who had followed our progress during the long training sessions, wanted us with him: it was to be our initiation into war. So we had to prepare for the journey. As always, along the road the soldiers of the provisional army would be enrolled from the many villages and cities through which we would pass. Each province was due to give us men, weapons and horses. Not a few young men came as volunteers, in the hope of distinguishing themselves and becoming enlisted after the battle.
When we left Istanbul we were about two hundred. When we left Asmara we were about one thousand and each of us regular soldiers became chief of a nucleus of men. At the beginning I had five men under me and the Amin had the same. After passing through Samsun we had about ten men each, at Ordu around fifteen, at Rize twenty and when we arrived at Karkose our army counted five thousand men. We immediately clashed with the rebels: they were less than us, but knew very well the land and were supported by the local population. We killed several of them, but also several of our men were killed.
We had been at war for about three months when a spy informed us that the rebels were gathering in a small valley not far from the site of our camp. Mansur gave orders to leave immediately to catch them by surprise, before they had the time to organize, and we entered the small valley. Immediately battle raged, obstructed by the steep and uncertain ground where our horses had difficulty manoeuvring.
I was fighting against two rebels when I saw Amin running at full gallop pursuing some rebels. From some bushes three of the enemy jumped out, attacking him. Amin valorously defended himself and he seemed to get the better of them, when one of his enemies succeeded in giving him a big sabre stroke on the leg and I saw him falling from his horse. Shouting, I rushed to his rescue and my men also followed me, so that in a short while we had surrounded Amin with our horses interposed between him and his assailants and soon we got the better of them. I then dismounted and helped Amin, who was bleeding heavily, to remount his horse. The battle was at that point won, the few surviving enemies were fleeing so I could immediately bring back my Lord to the camp, to get his injury treated.
Amin's wound was not really deep, but my Lord had lost very much blood, so he had to remain in his tent for several days. When I could I spent my time with him. It seemed he was healing, when his leg became seriously infected and very much swollen. He got a raging fever and often was delirious. I arranged it so that a soldier was always near him when I could not assist him, being engaged in a battle; it was really difficult for me be far from him, but I could not avoid my duty.
Whenever possible, I was at his side for hours, wiping his forehead with a wet piece of cloth and praying to Allah to help him. Since we were fighting in the mountains and autumn was coming to an end, it was becoming ever more cold, especially at night. I was really worried for Amin, I did not know what more I could do. But after a few days, soon after a battle, while dismounting my horse, I saw a herb I knew: my mother used this herb when I was a child to heal our infections! I gathered as much as I could and immediately went back to the camp. I used it following the recipe I vaguely remembered, hoping that my memory did not betray me.
Little by little Amin seemed to recover. His leg was deflating and he was having periods, longer each time, of lucidity. I had managed to place him in a small tent where only he and I slept, with the excuse that he would be less likely to disturb the others with his moans in his delirium. One night, in one of his moments of lucidity, he said:
"Nadim, I feel so cold!"
"It is the fever. Soon you will feel better. Do you want me to look for another rug?"
"No... I would like you to lie near me to warm me, as you were doing during the nights we were fleeing..."
"All right, I am coming."
I lay near him, under the same rug, and embraced him tightly. He pressed against me as he did as a boy, thanked me in a weak voice and fell asleep. I was still worried about him, so I caressed his body, almost as if hoping to alleviate his pain and suffering, and in the meantime I prayed Allah to help him to heal. After that night, I went to sleep near him every night, even when he improved and started to slowly recover. One night when at last he was healed, I went back to sleep under my rug. After I put out the lantern, he said: "I hope to worsen again..."
"What? What are you saying? Why?"
"At least you would come back to sleep with me... I like so much to fall asleep feeling your warmth..."
I smiled in the darkness and said: "You do not need to be ill. If you wish... I come."
"Do you think that I am not behaving as a man? That I am very naughty like a child?"
"No. I too feel good near you," I answered, and slipped under his rug and embraced him.
>From then on we always slept together. Some could have thought us lovers, notwithstanding we were brothers, but nobody ever said anything. Also, all things considered, it was not rare for two soldiers to share the same mattress and sometime also they preferred to have sexual intercourse, especially when they were at war and there were no women, so it was really rare that somebody made jokes on that subject.
The war lasted all winter long and was very hard, both for the inclemency of the weather and the determination of the rebels. But finally, in spring, their last stronghold was taken in bitter fighting and the revolt was put down. I thought that soon we would travel back to the capital, but Mansur summoned me to his presence. He said that he had noticed how I had behaved during all the fighting and that, for this reason, he had decided to appoint me his lieutenant and to leave me there with a garrison of five hundred men to keep the situation under control. I was to establish my headquarters in the rebel capital just conquered. I would receive the needed money to rebuild the fortress and I would have supported the civil governor with my soldiers.
After consulting with Amin, I accepted, asking to be allowed to choose the five hundred men who had to remain with me. Mansur agreed without hesitation. Of course, the first I chose was Amin and with him, after asking who wanted to stay as a volunteer, we chose the garrison soldiers.
Amin was very proud of me: "Now you are my chief!" he merrily exclaimed.
"No, you always remain my Lord, even if the others do not know that."
"But here you are the chief! You can rely on me, and you know it!" he replied firmly.
I ruffled his hair tenderly.
Once Mansur and the army left, I immediately set to work. The civil governor was a cultivated and clever man and I immediately reached a good understanding with him. Beside rebuilding the citadel quickly, we decided to set to work anything possible to pacify the population. Initially we convened all the mullah and explained to them our intentions, asking them for their support. They, I did not know how sincerely, declared themselves to be ready to do so in order that peace would come back to their land, not only between men but also in their hearts. Anyway, they collaborated.
We spent there two long years. Often from the capital came officials, and twice also Mansur returned. Each time we received praise for our work and also received authorization to hold back a part of the taxes we were collecting for the Sultan. This was important to execute the works we had in mind: roads, bridges, wells, cisterns that would be of benefit for all the population. That period was very useful for Amin and I, because it allowed us to see personally, and experiment with, the problems of administering a territory subdued by a bloody war.
Amin and I lived in the citadel, where we had had some rooms tidied for us, and where we also carried out our duties as military administrators. The civil governor on the contrary preferred to install himself in an elegant building in front of the principal masjid, where he administered justice and collected taxes. Often we were his guests: it was always a delight to spend our time with him.
So, two years later, Mansur returned and told us that the Sultan, having heard about me, wanted to meet me and therefore I was summoned at Palace. With Mansur had come the new military commander that had to take my place. I asked him if Amin could come with me: I did not want to be separated from him. The general answered that he had guessed that, so he had arranged that the summons to the court was also for my brother.
I passed my final orders to the new commander, and we returned to Istanbul with Mansur. Here, he had the right clothing for our rank made for us, in order to be received at court. Then Mansur accompanied us to the Sultan's audience.
CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 9
Please, donate to keep alive Nidty site, that allows you to read these pages, Thank you - Andrej
In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is
http://andrejkoymasky.com
If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help me revising my translation into English of another of my stories, send me an e-mail at
[andrej@andrejkoymasky.com](mailto:andrej@andrejkoymasky.com?subject=Your Stories)
(I can read only English, French, Italian... Andrej)