On the horizon, a dark silhouette appeared. The horseman rode in a madly speed to the castle. He jumped off the animal and rushed to the gates. The guardians held him. He pushed them away. Then, when they used force on him, he drew his sword. Vukasin shouted in lack of remedy. His eyes were swelled. He yelled in pain, "Brother!" He looked around like a trapped gazelle, swinging his sword. Kartal approached beneath me. He looked down from the terrace to him. He smiled, contented that everything had occurred as he planned. I was still in shock. How come a man could willingly walk into his death? Kartal got down the stairs, exited the gates and stood still in front of Vukasin. He wore misery on his eyes and folded his hands. "Get off of Prince Vukasin!" The guardians let him go. Vukasin clamered. He faced Kartal, groaning. He approached him slowly and then grabbed him from his collar. "Where is my brother?" he talked between his teeth. Kartal looked at him mournfully. I got down the stairs quickly. Vukasin squeezed his collars even more, "Where is he?" he hollered. Then his eyes turned towards me. The line broke off. The raving perished. His eyes were wide open. His face got pale, and his lips purple. I realized he was not skimming at me. I turned backwards and saw servants carrying corpses covered by white fabric on a wooden bank. They passed right next to me, and Vukasin lost his temper. "No? No, no, no... This cannot..." He strolled back and forth, unbalanced. He covered his face with his hands, then saw me. "Tomris? Who are they? Who are they, Tomris? Tell me," his voice got weaker. He kept peeking at my eyes, pleading. "Tell me, Tomris, who are they? Where is my brother?" Kartal watched him behind, waiting for his pain to pass and our reign to begin. Vukasin collapsed onto his knees. He cried loudly and angrily. I wanted to embrace him, to be his rest. I was crying, too, condemned to watch him from the distance. People could see, they would understand. Vukasin's eyes took shelter at mine. He was still whining. "Where is he, Tomris?" Then, he straightened up and approached the corpses. His fingers were trembling, but he could finally take the fabric off. The bloody face belonged to Emperor Charlamagne. He rested his hand on his heart. He walked to the next one. "I am sorry, Vukasin," I whispered. Seeing him like that was beyond bearing. He ripped the fabric, took a deep breath and raised it above. Kartal eyed me. He knew that there was no turning back. Vukasin would undoubtedly take his brother's revenge on Bayezid, and we would stand by him. 

Abruptly, steps echoed from the halls. I wiped my tears. Vukasin reached for his sword, beholding the big bad wolf that was about to come. His sword fell onto the floor as he saw Jaromir Dragarevic walking towards him. King Jaromir stood still, bewildered to see his brother. Vukasin had a crooked smile. I was stoned. For Kartal, it was like seeing a ghost. Vukasin chuckled, walked towards his brother quickly, and hugged him, hiding his cheer beneath Jaromir's shoulder. "I thought it was too late," he said. Bayezid appeared behind. We all reverenced. He examined Vukasin and curled his eyebrows as if he solved a mystery. He turned to Jaromir again, "Come on, son, we have much to talk about." Jaromir patted Vukasin's back. He grabbed his shoulders firmly. Vukasin was looking at him in wonder. "Everything is fine," Jaromir consoled him. Vukasin nodded, eyeing Bayezid suspiciously. "Kartal, arrange a council meeting for the evening," Bayezid ordered. Brother was too shaken. He was puzzled and didn't know what to do. He looked at me, apologized with his sorrowful eyes, and then nodded to Bayezid. I wished I could tell him that I wanted this. I wished I could tell him that the line of duty and sacrifice had started to blur in my mind - that I had started to live for something more precious and profound than a glorious purpose. Bayezid and King Jaromir disappeared. Kartal gazed at Vukasin but couldn't look me in the eye again. I walked past Vukasin, whispering to his ear, "Meet me at the old stable." He grinned at me.

"For a moment, I thought I lost him," he started. "Guess Bayezid truly care about King Jaromir," I added. He nicked his tongue, looking at me with a grain of salt. He walked near me. I could feel his breath. "I missed you terribly," he said. "I missed you too." He was surprised. I saw him blissful. He kissed me passionately. He kissed my cheeks and my nose and neck. "Vukasin," I said. He had already started to untie my dress. "Vukasin," I repeated. He stopped and looked at me. I touched my belly.

"Have you talked with your brother about the baby?" He kept staring at me dully. "You need to tell him soon. We won't be able to hide it anymore. We cannot wait till the end of the war. Mehli has long been in Malta Castle, but he will return eventually. He will father our baby if you don't do anything about it." He took my hands. "Don't say such things," he murmured. I let his hands go. "Then what should I say? Do you even care about this child? All you need is to tell the Dragon you will have a baby. No more delays if you won't confess him today; forget about me and the baby." Vukasin looked at me doubtfully. His lips arrayed and interrogated me.

"Why do you force me to make a decision? If I tell Jaromir this, I tell you he will never trust me again. Now, we can finally start all over. I can stand by his side and dedicate myself completely to my nation. You are forcing me to renounce a position I was raised for." The man I loved was a coward. He was just a boy too scared to act on his own. I needed to guarantee myself and the baby. Vukasin couldn't give that to us; he didn't have half of his brother's righteousness. I didn't need him to tell the Dragon. Vukasin tilted his head at me with his bright blue eyes, already had the cloak of innocence. Then he grabbed my wrist, "You won't tell Jaromir either, right?" His heavenly voice begged from me. I kicked his pubic and hit his face to make sure I left a mark. He reached for my hands to avoid the attack. I drew his sword and pointed at him. He grinned, raising his hands. "You are not the father of my child further on. We are nothing to each other until you do what you must do." I eyed his mocking face and messy hair. "You disgust me," I hissed. He laughed hard. "I love you," he replied. I threw the sword away. "I will tell the Dragon by myself." His face got sober. He strode toward me, nicking his tongue. "If you do, darling, I will deny it." I slapped him. His eyes were fed up. "I will handle everything. Why don't you trust me?" I knew he wouldn't. I knew him thoroughly. I didn't feel anger or disappointment. I never did when it came to Vukasin. He hadn't learned any better. I never doubted his love, but I said it - because I needed to hurt him like nobody else did. "Mehli is twice the man you are," he looked at me broken, and then he got that famous crooked smile. "And yet, you still love me," he said wiseacre. 

In the following days, Kartal was more apprehensive than ever. He told me that since he had come, King Jaromir had been sitting on the chair of the King's Hand. Bayezid did not even hear the words of any other in the council. He had revived, more potent than he ever was. King Jaromir didn't let anyone influence or confuse him. Once Kartal was walking to the throne room, King Jaromir caught him and said that his endeavours were appreciated, but he had returned and would never leave Bayezid alone again. He then raised his eyebrows menacingly. Brother couldn't sleep that night. For the first time, he was contemplating whether we had chosen the wrong side to stand by. Two maids came into my room one morning, telling me Prince Mehli would return in a few days. I was alerted. I was determined to confess to King Jaromir. I thought that he was the only person that could save my baby. I needed to tell him before Mehli returned. We must take action immediately. However, angst was ticking my mind. Some of me believed that Mehli would instantly understand the truth as he saw me and my faintly bulged belly. I decided to observe King Jaromir as if that could help me to forecast his reaction. 

I watched him in the castle, walking from room to room, in the garden, talking to Bayezid, saluting the soldiers, guardians and knights. I had never seen anyone having a steeper posture. There was an expression on his face promising both reliance and strength - contrary to Vukasin's delirious stares, lyrical smile and childish fears. Even though he didn't know me, I thought he would protect us. Bayezid's eyes had a warmer gleam when he saw Jaromir, a shimmer that only appears when a father looks at his son. Bayezid looked at neither Mehli nor any of his sons like that. I hadn't talked to Kartal about this. He was waiting for an answer to a letter he sent to Father. I didn't want to make him feel worse. 

I followed King Jaromir in the distance, hoping to find a moment to talk to him. He had awakened earlier than the birds and the sun. He wandered around the gardens. I thought sitting still was torture for a man like him. I knew that feeling. After fighting for so long, it becomes an addiction, a comfort. I wanted to fight for my people again, not squish out heirs to any throne. All the guards saluted before him. He reached the end of the garden, where there was nothing except grassland, bushes and a white bank. I stood beneath the bushes, reviewing whether it was a healthy idea. Vukasin's words echoed in my ears. I quickly got over the hesitation and attempted to approach him. He sat on the grassland, pinching the weeds, and watched the sunrise. He seemed emotional. Then Queen Oksana got out from the bushes in the corner and sat next to him effortlessly. I was once again set back. I crouched behind the bushes, hoping that the queen would leave soon. She was numb, looking at the sky with empty eyes. King Jaromir took her hand and placed it in his palms. She was soulless. She talked like whistling. 

- You came.

+ I will stay for a while. I have seen rats invade this castle; they misled Bayezid according to their benefits. I won't let their plans come true.

She exhaled like giving out her life.

- I wished you to come for me. I called your name thousands of times daily in that room that hasn't even let sunlight in for more than a month. I held on because I knew my brother would come to save me. He promised to me. My brother always keeps his promises. Do you even remember what you said to me when Mother betrothed me to Bayezid? You said you will take my hand and we will leave this castle together. Today, you tell me that you came here to save Bayezid.

+ You must know Oksana. Bayezid wouldn't lock you in if it weren't for that Karamanian King's Hand. He hooked him, targeting his most vulnerable site, and challenged him to prove how Turkic he was. I don't trust him. I don't trust any of the Karamanians. I know that they are up to something. I cannot prove it now, but I certainly will.

I felt a killing chill on my face, and my hands trembled. The last boat on the sinking ship filled with water and vanished into the deep ocean. 

- Day by day, I am dying. I am so miserable that I cannot even kill myself. Not that I couldn't dare, they don't let me. They put bars at my window. They collected everything sharp, everything that could carry a broken neck. I lived with a dream of us at home, happily feasting, talking about how we made it there. In those dreams, Jaromir, I am your priority. You come to save me before anyone else. I realize that this will always stay no more than a dream.

+ You mistreat me, sister. You must know that you are my priority, and that is not a dream but a future. I will always choose you first. You can count on that. I haven't forgotten anything. I will take your hand, and we will leave this country for good. Still, you must understand that Bayezid is not an evil man. Nothing will happen as long as I am here with you. When we need to go, we will go together. 

All the hope was on the feathers of the flying bird. The arrow pierced its heart. I watched it crash on the ground, ferals tearing it apart till all left of it was those feathers. I crawled till I could stand up unseen. King Jaromir stood up and eyed around incredulously. I ran as fast as I could and leapt into the bushes. I heard horse rears and knuckles following a drifting sound. I quickly walked to the castle. Guardians and soldiers had ordered in the entrance. From the couch, Mehli got out. As he passed the order, all the men reverenced before him. When I turned my side, I saw Vukasin. He was staring at me as if seeing light schemes escape from the dark clouds to enlighten a particular spot on the land, but no matter how hard one tried to reach there, that spot would always be in the distance.

I wondered whether he saw me going after his brother. I killed that thought of caring about him immediately. I walked towards Mehli. He smiled as he saw me. It was neither a cunning nor a fake expression - I felt he was intimate. He took my hand and kissed it, then hugged me. "Welcome," I could say. "I missed you, darling. The next time I went away, you will come with me," he said. I was bewildered. He turned to Vukasin, who was stoned. "You are still here?" he asked. Vukasin approached slowly. "My brother is also here." Mehli turned to me, "I think I ought to see my father now," he kissed me on my forehead. Vukasin tautened his fists. Mehli skimmed Vukasin, "I bid you a good day." Mehli was away for approximately ten weeks. I thought they battered him in Malta. He was different. This made it easier to ignore Vukasin in the castle. I felt that might trigger him to do something. He didn't. I waited for him to appear in the castle with girls swinging off his shoulders one night. He didn't. He attended the court meetings, the barrack training, the swordfights... I waited for my brother to come up with another plan. He was helpless - not letting our paths cross in the castle. I assumed he was too ashamed to tell me he was petrified. I went out of the balcony. The weather was rainy, and clouds were thick dark cotton squeezed by a maid hanging the laundry. I consoled myself that, in any case, I wouldn't be able to return to my land where the mountains, rivers, and all the others in between the legendary sky and the earth scream the songs of freedom. I gave up my life. I had done it before each of the battles I fought in. I couldn't give up my baby. He was an attorney, a fruit of a love untold, a symbol of resistance to the destiny forced on us. Kartal had told me that Danishmenthan would kill anyone carrying the Karamanian blood after the war. I thought that if they thought the child was from Mehli, then they would spare his life because the Karamanian blood wouldn't be the only line he would be a member of. This could guarantee his future. Telling Mehli that I was pregnant with his child could prevent Bayezid from being sceptical about us. Even King Jaromir wouldn't persuade him to mount his guard on us if this baby belonged to Mehli. For once in my life, love brought up duty and sacrifice. 

Meanwhile, Temur sent his army under the command of his son to the borders of Karaman. Father wrote a letter to Bayezid, immediately wishing for support. Even though Bayezid gathered an army under the command of King Jaromir to be sent to Karaman, nobody suspected why the enemy didn't get into the borders. However, no force kept them out for a long time until King Jaromir arrived on the land. Kartal knew that Temur wanted to remind us what he was capable of and what he was beholding. It was too late to change sides. Bayezid could win over Temur, but we all knew that Temur wouldn't leave us if we did not stand by his side. We were condemned to lose in any way. I couldn't drag my baby to our inevitable end - always in search of freedom, always in patronage of another. The late-night sneak peeks of Vukasin were degraded into long stares to my window from the garden. Not having the courage to confess tormented him. Still, he believed that everything would be resolved by a magical hand. He underestimated life as a story to tell. A story that always ended with victory. Nevertheless, in those stories, Karamanians were never the good guys. History would never announce us as honourable, heroic or rightful - until we started writing our own stories. 

The door opened, and Mehli got into the room. He took his cape out and lit the candles. "Why are you staying in the darkness?" he asked without expecting an answer. He sat on the bed, undressing his clothes. "Your brother didn't go to the battle. I am bewildered that a Tigrisian fights for Karaman instead of a Karamanian," he yanked. Kartal feared that King Jaromir would understand his attitude against Mongolians. That he would see Kartal retracts himself. Mehli lay on the bed, hand folded on his chest. "Father sees it as a challenge, Temur's son against his son," he sighed. I knew Mehli from the day he learned to walk. He always complained and got jealous, but he never grieved till then. His wrinkles were curved, making him look acrid and innocent. I recalled the time we attended Princess Tuanna's funeral. Bayezid's hand was on his shoulder, Isa and Suleiman were on the laps of maids, and Bayezid's mother was carrying baby Musa. That was the last time I saw Mehli in despair. I crouched next to him on the bed. He looked at me bemused. "You are his successor, not him." Mehli turned to my side. "I doubt that," he said, leaning his head on his hand. "You will be the next King, and your son will be the King after you." "There is no law stating that the first child is the successor," he paused like the lightning struck in his mind; he was speechless. He scrutinized my eyes, and his hand slowly took mine. "My son?" he asked. I took a deep breath; my baby would live even though I may not be able to see it. I took his hand and put it on my belly. He was trembling. His irises were tilting between my belly and my eyes. "We will have a baby." He was stoned for a second, then smiled, perishing all the gloom. He giggled like a little girl. My heart cried out. It was over. "Is this real?" I nodded. He leaned on me, taking the branches of hair from my face. "I am going to be a father," he verified. My heart begged love for forgiveness. "How did this happen?" I repeated what I had rehearsed for numerous times in my head. "I had seen a sanitarian. The baby is ten weeks old." He kissed me on the cheek. "I apologize for mistreating you, my love. With this baby, I promise I will atone all my mistakes." I thought I would never atone for this mistake. He grabbed my wrist, wore his cape and threw me a cloak. He dragged me to the grand saloon where Bayezid was following the battle in the hills of Karaman. Mehli was bouncing on the floor. "Father!" he shouted as the gates were opened. Inside were the Turkic chiefs, Bayezid's commanders, and advisors, and at the end of the table, Vukasin stood, showing a location on the map and ardently telling his strategy. They all turned their heads towards us. Bayezid stared at Mehli. He started to get frustrated. Mehli walked towards him. "Tomris is pregnant," he said, watching over Bayezid's face and trying to catch a glimpse. Bayezid howled loudly. He grabbed Mehli from his shoulder. Mehli swung in the air between Bayezid's strong arms. "I will be a grandsir!" Bayezid kept on yelling. Mehli couldn't hide his euphoria. He hugged him stiffer. 

I wasn't going to look at his eyes. I wasn't going to see him, wasn't going to be impressed, wasn't going to feel regret - but he was already looking at me with pupil eyes full of dismay and frustration. The men around the table stood up and congratulated us. He needed to do the same. He passed the table and walked directly to me, still taking deep breaths, and then changed his way to face Bayezid. I wanted to fear that he would tell Bayezid the truth. I wanted to feel nervous with all my skin and bones. I wasn't because, unfortunately, I was completely aware that he hadn't got the guts to own any responsibility. "Congratulations, King Bayezid," he said lastly, not even peeking at Mehli. "I'll leave you alone with your family now," he reverenced and left the room. Bayezid hugged me. He was cheering, preaching prayers and melodies to me, Mehli and the baby. I blackouted and heard all of them but as sounds rather than words. 

I was looking at the ceiling when Mehli got off of me. He leaned on the bed again, exhaling. He growled happily and turned to the other side of the bed. The indigo night was reflected on the dark ceiling. I thought it was absurd that one cannot inherit freedom but captivity. I wished from all my heart that my baby was a boy; otherwise, I knew that I couldn't tell my girl that she could not choose what to do with her life, that she wouldn't decide who to marry, and that she wouldn't lead people on her own - she wouldn't fight in a war with her skin and bones even though she could beat half of the men in the army just a moment of her wrist. 

The next day was crueler. Bayezid sent another army to Karaman. He had received a letter from King Jaromir mentioning the elephants and the highly populated enemy's lack of fear of death. Mehli was pleasant to me. He showed glimpses of thoughtful approaches, which I consoled myself as foreshadowing of his attitude towards his child. First thing in the morning, Kartal had caught me walking in the hall and dragged me into a cellar. "Are you out of your mind?" his words were yelling, but his voice was low. I missed the times we could shout as loudly as we could. "You wrote your death sentence," he continued. His face got sour and then reddish. "Nobody could save you. I cannot hide you from the brutality of Danishmenthan. They might win over Temur. They really can - and we played the wrong pawn. It is too late now. I thought that Tigrisians could protect you. I felt that even though we all die, you will be safe. This was my only solace - to know you are safe," he was silenced. "Why, Tomris?" he whispered. I put my hands around his shoulder. "Bayezid thought I carry his grandson; even King Jaromir cannot provoke him towards Karamanian further on. You don't know if Karaman is the only Turkic group in touch with Temur. We must win for all the times we have lost, and if we won't, how could you, except me, not be there when you mock the angel of death at the gates of Ocmah? I needed to save my baby. As long as one of us lives, we will never lose." He nodded soulfully and leaned his head on my forehead. 

I was determined to spend those precious days before my acrid death in the most magnificent way. I ate what I wanted. The whole kitchen of the castle was at my disposal. Cakes, patties and steaks. Eating dispersed hurtful thoughts, like where Vukasin went and whether he would ever return. Kartal tried to be with me as much as he could. Mehli liked me better with the bulge of the baby and the deserts. Bayezid attempted to go to Karaman several times, but the advisors prevented him. His presence in Edre was essential, they said. Mehli never offered to go instead of him. Bayezid kept swearing to them that if Temur attended the battlefield, he would go - yet it was evident with his frowned eyebrows and sulking lips that he was distressed. He tried to gather as many men as possible to send to Karaman weekly. His days were spent making strategies and sending letters to King Jaromir. One night, Mehli returned to the room whining about a letter Bayezid had just received from King Jaromir. 

"We are successfully defeating the enemy continuously. They hadn't even stepped on Karaman. On the other hand, they are too crowded, and it feels like the war is everlasting. I observed that Mongolians had no fear of death. They are fighting like hounds.

On the contrary, our men want to live. Even though we are more disciplined and trained than the enemy, I cannot forecast whether we can repel them any longer, considering the elephants that had just arrived at the battleground." Mehli imitated his voice and jumped on the bed. I watched him with wry. "Father hasn't even told him we will have a baby," he complained. "As if all those people giving up their lives on that hill were too curious about our baby," I murmured. He looked at me dully, then crawled next to me. "My dear, this would finally show Jaromir that we are a family he is not a part of." He got under the blanket. "I wish his brother could take him where they belong after all this, yet Vukasin seems like getting used to this place, too. Luckily, he had joined his brother in the battle, which relieved Father. I hope an arrow pierces the vagrant prince's heart. I swear to Tengri that I would make a statue of him." I abruptly stood up. "Prince Vukasin went to the battle?" I asked, trying to calm my voice. He nodded. He had heard my words, not my voice.

Every breath of mine became a prayer to Tengri to protect him. Months passed, and the food that had tasted like flowers and sunlight turned to stone and moss. I could feel my baby. He constantly reminded me that he was there. Seven months later, the battle ended all of a sudden. Both sides retreated simultaneously, and the remaining armies, one by one, started to return. The soldiers reunited with their families. They were bewildered and thankful. I heard that grass was painted red wherever it grew. The breeze carried redness to the North. The rivers brought redness to the dinners of innocents. The flesh of elephants was covered by vultures and ravens even before some gave out their last breath. King Jaromir wrote to Bayezid that he would return after the last soldier on the ground was carried back to his homeland. He mentioned nothing of his brother. I panicked, had no one to ask, had no one to console me. I couldn't talk to Kartal. He would think that I still love him, and he would feel peccant. He wouldn't understand why I did what I did if I still loved him. I decided to ask the knights to return to their service in the castle. They hadn't fought in the same unit; most had been sent to Edre before the war ended. 

I helplessly took my chance to prey on his God. I preyed on him to bring Vukasin back to me, only to not see him again. One of the knights in the barracks told me that most of the soldiers who fought as frontiers were in the city with their families or resting in inns. Someone out there must know whether he was safe and sound. I headed to the city before it got too late, before Mehli started to search for me. Tired but renowned faces welcomed me. They were dancing with their bandages and cutten arms, singing the songs of victory. They were too drunk to trust. I couldn't risk my baby by being seen in the inn, so I kept walking forward, trying to escape the narrow streets as much as possible.

I heard music coming from the streets like a calling from darkness. I encountered a group of people crowded around a man with one leg stepping on a chair. He hollered to the crowd, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am a vessel of this legend of the Dragon and the Elephant. Come close to listening to the heroic tales of a Dragon in command of a Wolf. Come close to listening to the epic of King Jaromir Dragarevic!" It was neither the legend nor the epic that attracted people. I knew it was the blood. They were interested in who shed whose blood. All I could think about was the blood of my man. The bard started to yell the story as fancy and pompous as he could. 

"The shallow breeze flitted the sashes of the soldiers. The harsh weather was mocking us. Spears were drawn, and swords were whetted. The Dragon stood at the head of the army; his eyes were made up of golden, and his heart was of iron. He watched the horizon with his flaming stare. Beside him, Commander Utar was leading the main army. He was the most honourable Artunchack who drowned the Artuncha riots. The Dragon took out his silver sword as he saw the monsters ahead. An army of hungry hyenas four times the number of our soldiers. He saw the son of the crippled. He showed him what terror feels like. The stern encounter happened in just seconds. After a while, the fighters were not separable from the distance. They were all covered with blood. The Dragon sliced their throats, made them a thousand times regretful to ever step on our land. He killed ten men in one strike. He killed twenty more with his fearful gaze. The breed of the crippled hid beneath his hyenas while the Dragon risked his life to save his soldiers. He defeated the enemy. Warriors warmed up by the divine light shimmering from the Dragon's golden eyes. Hyenas breed faster; they are raised to die. So the moment Dragon thought he won, new armies were sent from the hell well of the East, but with gigantic creatures that could smash a hundred men under their foot. The warriors were scared, but when they saw the fierce look on the Dragon's face, they knew that all the enemies would flutter to escape from the justice of their weapons. Dragon fought for days continuously. The army withstood without enough food; nobody thought the battle would take that long. The Dragon refused to eat while his men were starving. The supporting units were on the way, but the crippled's son crossed their way and temporized them as our main army got weaker each day. The Dragon realized that only arrows could get through the skin of those creatures, so he ordered the frontiers to be drawn back and gave the archers enough space to target the animals. Most of them got hurt, and one of the dying ones fell onto the soldiers who couldn't escape in the crowd. The Dragon's left arm stuck under the creature. The hyenas swarmed around to those who were stuck under the corpse."

At a sudden, I felt a terrible swagger on my groin and shrivelled up to the ground.

"Fortunately, the Dragon's brother was there to help him. He dragged the Dragon out of the creature. The Dragon kept on fighting with his injured arm. When the night came, he heard nothing but screams and felt the boiling, sticky and itchy blood on his face. He climbed up a hill near the field with his brother to observe the battle."

The pain increased, and the faint mourns grew out to be yelling. People turned their heads towards me. "What happened to Vukasin Dragarevic? What happened to the prin..." I cried out. Then, I bit my lips to shut my mouth. The hesitated bard kept telling.

"The war had no aim. Mongolians wouldn't pass the borders of Karaman. The Dragon wouldn't kill that endless horde. It was a loop, a nonsense blood river. He waited for the son of the crippled on that hill. The coward dismounted his horse and faced the Dragon. Our Dragon said he wouldn't lose; he could keep fighting forever, but it was no good for both sides. The crippled's son hissed like a snake, 'It is not our war.' Our Dragon replied as the blue moon rose in the sky, ' Yet.'.." 

I tried to find someplace to rest, but nobody saw me. Nobody cared about a woman in a black cape yelling at a bard in a narrow street. I hardly headed to the castle; meanwhile, the faces on the streets had changed and became crooked and vile. I clung to my cape, held my hand on my belly, whispering to my baby, "You are safe." Walking got even more challenging. I felt my knees stopped beating. Sudden nausea made me dim, my eyes blinded by dark curtains. I kept opening them, yet the vision kept changing. Then I felt an arm embracing my shoulder. The warm and gentle touch of one skin to another took my distress away. He carried me to the depths of darkness. At that moment, I found the strength to flee from him. I kicked him and jumped off the ground. I felt a dagger stabbed into my belly and couldn't help but whimper. He took my wrist, and we faced each other.

I was startled. His right eye became bloodshot. There were cuts and slices on the face that once belonged to an angel. He was looking at me blended. "Vukasin," I whispered. I felt like I had already gotten the answers to all of my questions. His face was turned to darkness, hiding his red eye. "You were looking for me," he started. I attempted to touch his cheek, but he turned away tenderly. He sighed, looking into my eyes in loathing. "Trust me. It hurts less than what you did to me." I approached him. He set back. "I came here to tell you that I will take my son from you, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I will," talking gave him pain. I straightened up and locked my eyes on his horrific face. "Bring it on. His father won't let that happen." I saw him shudder at my words; he had said things he didn't mean to, and now they had become real. He got closer as if to kiss me.

"I - will - kill - Mehli," he whispered to my lips. I upbraided, tightened my fist and held it under his chin. "Then you'll have to kill me, too," I snarled. He looked at me from above with heartsore eyes. "I can't harm you, Tomris. Not even close," he stared at the luminous lights coming from the houses. "I was wrong. You never loved me. A Turk cannot love one of us," his voice was not even hesitant. He meant when he said it. I wanted him to go away, and he would. He left me behind and walked out of the street. I had a few steps forward. I shrivelled up on the wall, took a deep breath and tried to go on, but then the water broke. My baby was coming, I shouted. "Not here! Not now!" I cried and tried to move, but the pain reached my brain. I crawled on the ground. People were not even looking at me. Yonder, I saw a repentant silhouette coming at me. The silhouette paused in close distance. Then he started to run madly towards me. "Tomris? Tomris?" he hollered. He had returned. He always returned. 

He carried me to the castle, where the servants and maids took me to my room and brought the midwives and the head sanitarian. He couldn't get into the hall. I saw him looking at me from behind helplessly. 

I roared, I cried, I shouted, I strained. I was soaked in sweat. They wiped my forehead. All surrounded the bed. The sanitarian kept repeating, "Push!" I was about to choke him. Mehli opened the door and walked in nervously. "Get out!" I shouted, and he quickly fled. It felt like it was never going to end - but it did. I saw my baby in the arms of the midwife. "He is so beautiful, my princess," she said happily—a boy, I thought, my boy. I started to laugh, then couldn't stop myself from weeping. "Give him to me," I said ardently. I felt his tiny body on my chest, his little fingers exploring the blanket. He was mine - he belonged to me. He was blond. His head was covered with very short golden strands of hair. I thought he got his nose from me. Then he opened his eyes, and everything changed. They were a striking navy blue, bright as the moon, deep as the ocean. Little Durad, I thought. I was bewildered that I called him like that. His skin was softer than a petal. His lips were plump. He looked so angelic like he had just fallen from the gardens of Ocmah. I could tell he was at rest on my lap, watching me peacefully. He knew who I was. I wondered whether he knew who his father was, too. 

I cleaned him by myself. I didn't let anyone carry him till the evening. Then Bayezid came to meet him. He took Durad from my arms and let him grab his finger. Bayezid chuckled. "He looks just like me," he said delightfully. "Have you given any name to him?" he asked. Mehli jumped to the answer before I did. "No, father. We thought you might want to decide his name." Bayezid nodded gladly. He swung Durad for a while. He watched him with intense love. He owned him just the moment he had seen him. "His name is Murad. He will become a fierce king just like my father."

Mehli cheered, "That exactly fits him, doesn't it, Tomris?" Durad fretted. I took him immediately from Bayezid's hands and nodded faintly to them. I caressed his golden hair. He didn't resemble Bayezid, even though he had similar features. He got Vukasin's eyes, that was for sure, but the feeling on his face was something else. Something familiar. He was confident, gleaming a luminous light. He was looking just like King Jaromir. He had the same noble regard in his eyes. He was my miracle. He would be my gift to the world - an extraordinary boy who would do all the goodness his mother couldn't. Then, I thought he didn't need to be successful or be too honest, royal, or excellent. He didn't need to become someone that changed the world. All I wanted for him was to be happy. I wanted him to be loved, even at the times that I wouldn't be here any longer. I saw it on Bayezid. I could trust him to love Durad. 

Bayezid wanted to start the celebration after King Jaromir arrived. The moment Mehli heard Bayezid calling "Murad", the future king. He followed his father wherever he went, hoping that he would imply such a succession again. Meanwhile, I was breastfeeding Durad in my room, candles lit. His crib had just been brought. The rustles from the fireplace and the licking sound from Durad's lips filled the void of silence. I leaned on his ear and whispered, "You are Durad," for the first time. I felt a great imposition left my back. He would never be the Durad of Danishmenthan or the Durad of Karaman - he would never ever become the Durad of Tigrisia. He would always be the Durad of Tomris. The Tomris of Durad. 

The door vaguely knocked and then arrayed. I immediately reached for the iron bar near the fireplace when I saw Vukasin walking inside and closing the door beneath him. "You can't take him, I will kill you!" He stared at Durand, helplessly reaching for my breast hanging from the low neck of the dress on my lap. His eyes were soaked and reflected the orange of sunset as he walked past the fireplace. "Where are the guards?" I shouted. He approached, not escaping his eyes from Durad. "I made them go away for a while," he whispered. "Do not even consider taking another step!" I warned him. He tilted his head to the side, scrutinizing Durad. He smiled, holding his breath. He raised his arms like he was about to have him. He looked at my eyes, pleading for mercy.

"Can I... can I... Can I hold him? Just for a bit." He couldn't kidnap him, then his brother would know. I stood up and left the baby in his arms. He carried him like he was made of glass. He giggled shyly and faced me. "He is too tiny." He took his little fingers and touched his cheeks and little nose. "He has your nose," he whispered. He hid his face from me, tilting his head to the baby. I heard sighs. He was crying. "What is his name?" he asked finally. I hesitated for a moment, then confidently I replied. "Durad. They will call him Murad, but his name is Durad." He looked at me, bemused as when I had yelled his name in the tournament years ago. "Our baby is beautiful," he said. The delight concealed the severity of the scars and his bloodshot eye. He looked angelic once again - but a fallen one.