July 15, 1173
Prince Theodore Lascaris stretched his aching muscles as he stumbled out of the tent into the bright sunshine. Looking up at the sky he saw a few large white clouds slowly and majestically moving above him. He nodded to the guard, who nodded back while keeping his eyes on the surrounding area of the camp. With a tiny smile the Prince stepped over to the small lake and bent down to wash his face.
The water was cold, and he decided to just thrust his entire head into the water. He arose with a gasp, his hair and beard streaming silvery liquid beads. Theodore was fully awake now and heard the footsteps of Matteo coming up behind him.
“I cannot see why anyone would wish to do that,” he observed with a shudder,” It’s beastly cold.”
“Might as well get some kind of experience,” the Prince slicked his hair back,” This whole expedition has been a complete failure.”
“Indeed,” Matteo splashed a small amount of water onto his face,” Brr, that is cold! No sign whatsoever of a Christian nation within hundreds of miles.”
Theodore combed his fingers through his beard,” His imperial majesty will be most disappointed.”
“At least we will return while the pass to travel through Rum territory is still good,” Matteo peered out onto the lake,” What is that?”
Theodore looked out there,” Looks like some kind of primitive boat.”
The boat held two figures. One was an adult male while the other looked to be a child. Neither seemed to be aware of those on shore. With a start of surprise and an oath the two men saw the man grab the child and throw him into the water. The child cried out in some barbaric tongue as the man paddled away clumsily. The child frantically cried out, but the man ignored the plaintive cries.
“I don’t think he can swim,” Matteo observed quietly.
“Apparently,” Theodore snapped,” Go out and fetch him out of there.”
“Me? It’s cold out there!” Matteo exclaimed.
“It was not a request.”
Matteo shrugged and tossed off his clothes. With a grimace he waded out into the water and began to swim toward the child who continued to scream and try to stay about water. Matteo reached the child and managed to overpower him enough to drag him to shore. With a grunt the man dragged the child onto the sand.
“Happy now?” Matteo shook himself before putting on his clothes.
“Yes,” Theodore observed the child.
Obviously a boy, of some kind of barbaric oriental tribe. He was choking and gasping, water dribbling out of his mouth as he struggled for air. The dark brown hair was past his shoulders and the black eyes were slit nearly closed by the force of his coughing.
“Boy?” Theodore spoke to him gently.
The lad looked at him askance. By this time the whole camp had arrived to look at the spectacle. Twenty men at arms stood away, looking at the hills nearby.
“Could be a spy,” one man offered.
“A boy?” Matteo scoffed,” I doubt that very much.”
The boy spoke up with a string of words the men couldn’t understand, save for the local translator.
“He asks if you plan to kill him,” the man spoke to Theodore.
“No. Ask him his name,” Theodore instructed.
The boy listened as the wizened man spoke to him again. The boy answered.
“His name is Temejin, son of Yesugei.”
“Ask him why that man threw him out of the boat,” Theodore nodded at the boy.
The oldster spoke to Temujin, who answered vehemently with arms gesturing wildly.
“That was the brother of his father’s bride to be,” the man shrugged,” Apparently Temujin won a horse race against him. It made him look bad in front of his own prospective bride.”
“I see,” Theodore rubbed at his eyes,” Ask him if he needs help getting back to his village.”
The two barbarians spoke again at some length. The boy gesturing to the east and the old man shaking his head negatively.
“What is it, man?” Matteo growled.
“He says he is from a place far to the east of here,” he responded tersely,” His father sent him to the village of his bride to be. It would not be safe for him to return there. Nor can he go home, either.”
“Why ever not?”
“Because the ‘uncle’ would kill him. If he returned prior to the marriage his father would also kill him.”
“Barbarians,” Matteo spat.
“We can’t leave him here,” Theodore sighed,” Tell him he will come with us.”
The man spoke to Temujin again, who shrugged. The boy had no weapons with him at all, save for a small knife. Theodore looked at his guide for a moment.
“You will be in charge of him for now,” he ordered,” Teach him my language.”
“As you say,” the man bowed low before speaking to the boy.
The two of them walked away as Theodore turned to face Matteo and the others.
“You aren’t really thinking of bringing him home?” Matteo asked.
“Why not?” Theodore’s eyebrows rose,” You object to that?”
“He’s a barbarian!” Matteo exclaimed,” He’s dirty. He has lice, for God’s sake!”
“He can be cleaned up,” Theodore retorted.
“He’ll still be a barbarian,” Matteo argued.
“We’ll civilize him,” Theodore smiled,” Teach him our language, culture, and religion.”
“So he’ll be a ‘civilized’ barbarian,” Matteo snorted,” What good will he be?”
“One never knows,” Theodore turned to the others,” Strike the camp! We’ll eat while we get under way. I want to put some distance between us and this place!”
The whole area became a beehive of activity as tents were struck and packed away in wagons which were being hitched to horses. Men harnessed and saddled the riding horses while the armsmen donned their armor.
Theodore wore his armor with some discomfort. He had lost some weight during this journey and it made his armor a bit loose on him. Which caused some chafing, which he suffered in stoic silence. Within the hour the entire group was heading west, back toward Constantinople and the Byzantine Empire.
Prince Theodore Lascaris stretched his aching muscles as he stumbled out of the tent into the bright sunshine. Looking up at the sky he saw a few large white clouds slowly and majestically moving above him. He nodded to the guard, who nodded back while keeping his eyes on the surrounding area of the camp. With a tiny smile the Prince stepped over to the small lake and bent down to wash his face.
The water was cold, and he decided to just thrust his entire head into the water. He arose with a gasp, his hair and beard streaming silvery liquid beads. Theodore was fully awake now and heard the footsteps of Matteo coming up behind him.
“I cannot see why anyone would wish to do that,” he observed with a shudder,” It’s beastly cold.”
“Might as well get some kind of experience,” the Prince slicked his hair back,” This whole expedition has been a complete failure.”
“Indeed,” Matteo splashed a small amount of water onto his face,” Brr, that is cold! No sign whatsoever of a Christian nation within hundreds of miles.”
Theodore combed his fingers through his beard,” His imperial majesty will be most disappointed.”
“At least we will return while the pass to travel through Rum territory is still good,” Matteo peered out onto the lake,” What is that?”
Theodore looked out there,” Looks like some kind of primitive boat.”
The boat held two figures. One was an adult male while the other looked to be a child. Neither seemed to be aware of those on shore. With a start of surprise and an oath the two men saw the man grab the child and throw him into the water. The child cried out in some barbaric tongue as the man paddled away clumsily. The child frantically cried out, but the man ignored the plaintive cries.
“I don’t think he can swim,” Matteo observed quietly.
“Apparently,” Theodore snapped,” Go out and fetch him out of there.”
“Me? It’s cold out there!” Matteo exclaimed.
“It was not a request.”
Matteo shrugged and tossed off his clothes. With a grimace he waded out into the water and began to swim toward the child who continued to scream and try to stay about water. Matteo reached the child and managed to overpower him enough to drag him to shore. With a grunt the man dragged the child onto the sand.
“Happy now?” Matteo shook himself before putting on his clothes.
“Yes,” Theodore observed the child.
Obviously a boy, of some kind of barbaric oriental tribe. He was choking and gasping, water dribbling out of his mouth as he struggled for air. The dark brown hair was past his shoulders and the black eyes were slit nearly closed by the force of his coughing.
“Boy?” Theodore spoke to him gently.
The lad looked at him askance. By this time the whole camp had arrived to look at the spectacle. Twenty men at arms stood away, looking at the hills nearby.
“Could be a spy,” one man offered.
“A boy?” Matteo scoffed,” I doubt that very much.”
The boy spoke up with a string of words the men couldn’t understand, save for the local translator.
“He asks if you plan to kill him,” the man spoke to Theodore.
“No. Ask him his name,” Theodore instructed.
The boy listened as the wizened man spoke to him again. The boy answered.
“His name is Temejin, son of Yesugei.”
“Ask him why that man threw him out of the boat,” Theodore nodded at the boy.
The oldster spoke to Temujin, who answered vehemently with arms gesturing wildly.
“That was the brother of his father’s bride to be,” the man shrugged,” Apparently Temujin won a horse race against him. It made him look bad in front of his own prospective bride.”
“I see,” Theodore rubbed at his eyes,” Ask him if he needs help getting back to his village.”
The two barbarians spoke again at some length. The boy gesturing to the east and the old man shaking his head negatively.
“What is it, man?” Matteo growled.
“He says he is from a place far to the east of here,” he responded tersely,” His father sent him to the village of his bride to be. It would not be safe for him to return there. Nor can he go home, either.”
“Why ever not?”
“Because the ‘uncle’ would kill him. If he returned prior to the marriage his father would also kill him.”
“Barbarians,” Matteo spat.
“We can’t leave him here,” Theodore sighed,” Tell him he will come with us.”
The man spoke to Temujin again, who shrugged. The boy had no weapons with him at all, save for a small knife. Theodore looked at his guide for a moment.
“You will be in charge of him for now,” he ordered,” Teach him my language.”
“As you say,” the man bowed low before speaking to the boy.
The two of them walked away as Theodore turned to face Matteo and the others.
“You aren’t really thinking of bringing him home?” Matteo asked.
“Why not?” Theodore’s eyebrows rose,” You object to that?”
“He’s a barbarian!” Matteo exclaimed,” He’s dirty. He has lice, for God’s sake!”
“He can be cleaned up,” Theodore retorted.
“He’ll still be a barbarian,” Matteo argued.
“We’ll civilize him,” Theodore smiled,” Teach him our language, culture, and religion.”
“So he’ll be a ‘civilized’ barbarian,” Matteo snorted,” What good will he be?”
“One never knows,” Theodore turned to the others,” Strike the camp! We’ll eat while we get under way. I want to put some distance between us and this place!”
The whole area became a beehive of activity as tents were struck and packed away in wagons which were being hitched to horses. Men harnessed and saddled the riding horses while the armsmen donned their armor.
Theodore wore his armor with some discomfort. He had lost some weight during this journey and it made his armor a bit loose on him. Which caused some chafing, which he suffered in stoic silence. Within the hour the entire group was heading west, back toward Constantinople and the Byzantine Empire.
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