Chapter 23: Byzantine Interlude

Shakranta stood facing his opponents, his eyes looking calm but firm and focused. He bounced, danced and shimmied for a short while to warm up, then stretched his torso, his arms and finally his legs. Having inherited the imposing height of one grandfather and the powerful build of the other, he was big and tall for a man from the Golden Peninsula.

The fight started ... and ended in a few heartbeats ... such was the speed with which it occurred ... that General Ashgar and General Tegrud found it hardly possible to believe what they had just seen before their very eyes.

Shakranta jumped and spinned in one movement towards two of his opponents who were nearest to each other, his two swords spinning along with his body like they were just parts of himself. As he completed one full circle, his right foot shot out sharply, landing right on the face of one man, sending him staggering backwards. Barely had Shakranta touched the ground again than he twisted in the opposite direction and thundered his right elbow into the other man’s right temple.

The first man groaned in pain and went into a swoon rightaway.  The second looked dazed and confused, tried to sit down slowly, but keeled over and fainted before he succeeded. A third adversary, to Shakranta’s left, lifted his sword high for a downward cut that would split Shakranta’s head in two. But just a heartbeat before it reached maximum height, Shakranta surged forward to deliver a massive head butt that shattered the man’s nose and all but broke his face into pieces. Crimson liquid oozed out of the man’s flaring nostrils.

A fourth attacker, now coming at an angle from around Shakranta’s right, ran straight at him, sword held straight out, aiming it at Shakranta’s belly. Shakranta shimmied a bit to his right and caught the man’s sword wrist with his left hand, twisted it hard, then swung a mighty slap on the man’s face around the base of his ear with his right hand that completely stunned his opponent. The man’s sword slipped down from his right hand.

Shakranta then slipped his right leg under the man’s arm, brought that leg back up and hooked it over that arm. He then pressed his leg downward, bringing the man down heavily face first to the ground. As his foe lay spread eagled, Shakranta lifted his leg and struck down with his heel on the back of the man’s head, just hard enough to knock him out cold.

Rising quickly, with his back to a fifth opponent about to slice his head off from behind, Shakranta swung his sword overhead robustly in a graceful arc that carried it toward’s his enemy’s face. The man’s downward slicing stroke suddenly turned into an upward parry in order to counter Shakranta’s totally unexpected move. Shakranta followed up immediately with a powerful back thrust kick at him. Shakranta’s heel landed smack bang right on his attacker’s solar plexus, stopping the man dead in his tracks, his sword sliding off from his hand.

With another lightning fast movement, Shakranta struck a hesitant sixth man with a jumping spinning reverse roundhouse kick, hitting the side of the guy’s head with his heel. The man collapsed with a hoarse groan, tumbling down heavily to the ground like a rotten tree.

A huge dark warrior came charging with a massive club, screaming his gut out, his eyes blazing with murderous fury, seemingly bent on bashing Shakranta to a pulp. Shakranta remained still to the last moment, then bounced a bit as the man came near striking distance. Whipping the whole length of his right leg up and across, Shakranta's entire shin slammed onto the man's broad chest like a pole with a loud thud. The man collapsed like a log, without another sound.

An eighth man came straight at Shakranta, his sword held up high, just about to begin its downward arc which would split Shakranta’s face in two. Shakranta’s riposte was a sharp, swift straight front thrust kick to his groin. The man’s face contorted in pain, the sword still in his arms forgotten momentarily.

Shakranta followed through with three quick flick kicks with his left foot to the man’s ribs as his sword slipped from his hands. Bouncing and shimmying, he made a soft, deft, low, circular sweeping tap with the same foot on his opponent's right ankle, which completely unbalanced him, lifting the man's feet off the ground for a heartbeat. With a loud bellow, making use of the fellow's moment of awkwardness to the full, Shakranta finished his last attacker off with a jumping spinning roundhouse kick with his right foot to the left side of the man’s face.

§

"Greetings, champion," a tall, elegant looking female warrior, mounted over a magnificent Norman charger, approached Shakranta as he surveyed the ships berthed at the port, making him turn around. As she spoke her luxuriant mane of long, thick, wavy, yellowish brown hair, cascading all the way down to her back, bounced about gloriously on her head and shoulders.

"Well, well, well!" Shakranta looked surprised. "Look who we've got here! Greetings to you, fair lady."

“That was a dazzling display of far eastern martial arts you gave, yesterday," the woman continued. "Simply scintillating. I just loved it."

"Did you? Really?"

"Oh yes. Really, I did. You fought even better than a druzhinnik. And the way you dealt with those sword attacks ... both daring and decisive … would worry any droyaska. It was just magnificent."

"Well, it was all prearranged, Milady. Rehearsed again and again."

"Yes, I know. But still, it was brilliant. And those sword strokes were still dangerous."

Shakranta had been chosen by the Byzantines, with Sultan Mahmud’s approval, to lead a demonstration of martial arts from all over the known world. The choice was made after a long series of bruising auditions, in the form of a tournament. Shakranta had emerged the overall individual champion, with the first runner up a young Greek commander from the Byzantine army.

A druzhinnik from Kievskaya Ruska and a Varangi fighter from the ranks of the Emperor’s recently deployed Royal Varangian Guards came through as joint second runners up. While a Gaul, a Saxon, a Frank and an Ethiopian, adventurer mercenaries all of them, made it into the tournament record books as the most exciting new talents.

Ashgar and Tegrud, meanwhile, had both been instructed by Sultan Mahmud to decline from participating, citing injury, in order to avoid the possibility of an awkward matchup between the three men escorting him.

“Thank you, Milady,” Shakranta replied. “You are too generous with your words. But a compliment from a beautiful woman is always sure to gladden a man’s heart. And you weren’t so bad yourself. I was watching you. You were clearly a class above the rest.”

“Thank you in return,” replied the lady. “Apparently, you’re not only a formidable warrior ... but also a gallant gentleman. Someone like you, I am sure, would have many female admirers.”

The women's tournament, meanwhile, had ended a day before the men's. It was won, rather emphatically, by a striking, long limbed, athletic looking warrioress from the north, trapping her opponent in a deadly headlock and choking her into an inevitable submission. Now, Shakranta found himself gazing intently at the same woman. She appeared even more stunning than on tournament day. Good heavens, Shakranta thought. Well might she have been the Goddess of War herself! She looked awesome.

“You are staring at me, champion."

"I’m sorry, Milady. I didn’t mean to. It was ... your beauty. Your remarkable beauty. It's just ... so distracting for me."

"You are flattering me again. Perhaps you haven’t yet seen a woman from Kievskaya Ruska before.”

"I have, actually, Milady. But not at such close range as right now. And none of them anywhere near as stunning as you."

"Thank you again. I am Zvietta, daughter of Mikhail, of the family of Lukaschenko … from the city of Kievska ... in the kingdom of Kievskaya Ruska ... far yonder in the north. I am pleased to meet you."

"The pleasure is much more mine, Milady," said Shakranta. "And I am Shakranta … son of Prabhava and Kembang Seri Wangi … grandson of Adhi Vira … of the family of Dharma Kusuma ... from Amdan Negara ... in the lands of the Langkasukan Federation ... in the Golden Peninsula ... even farther yonder in the east. So ... what business brings Milady to Constantinople then ... if I may?"

“We came here as escorts of His Majesty Vladimir the Great, our king. As part of the expedition accompanying him on his trip here to marry Princess Anna, younger sister of Emperor Basileios. And then to take the princess to Kievska.”

“Sounds fabulous.”

“So what does the name of your kingdom … Amdan Negara … mean, exactly?”

“City of the Valiant."

"What a name!"

"Of course, in those days a big city also had a king, who then exercised authority and power over a certain swathe of territory around that city, which essentially formed his kingdom. So you could also say that it means Kingdom of the Valiant.”

"What about Langkasuka, what does that mean?”

“Land of Happiness.”

“Amazing!”

“So … tell me about your king.”

“Vladimir has only just become a Christian. He had sent his chamberlains and boyarin to visit and survey centres of Judaism, Christianity and Islam throughout this region. But it seemed they all went back most impressed with Christianity ... after gazing in utmost admiration at the breathtaking beauty of Hagia Sofia.”

“Hagia Sofia? Oh. Yes. Such a beautiful name.”

“It means Divine Wisdom.”

“As I’ve heard. So, your King Vladimir decided to choose a new faith based merely on the aesthetic finesse of a stone building. How fascinating.”

"Ummm … I guess it had also partly to do with our kingdom’s trade interests. You see ... Byzantium controls the sea routes of the Black Sea ... thereby also the riverine routes via the River Dnieper which flows to its shores. And ... I hear ... Vladimir is also an ardent admirer of Byzantine high culture."

"I see. So he was also influenced by other things also. What was the faith of your people before, then, if I may know?"

“Our ancestors worshipped various gods and goddesses, who they believed guarded the elements of nature. Do your people keep the Islamic faith ... as do the Arabs, Persians and Turkmen?”

“Not so, actually. In Langkasuka, our people have only recently started hearing about the teachings of Islam. In the main, we are still comfortable with our old ways. Beliefs that blend the teachings of Gautama with the worship of Shiva or Vishnu. My friend, Lord Sultan Mahmud of Ghazna, and the people of his court have indeed often been preaching to me about the goodness of Islam.”

“Sounds like you’re thinking about it,” Zvietta continued.

“It does sound like a fabulous faith. But for the moment ... I feel that I myself ... as also, I would guess, the majority of my fellow Langkasukans ... we’re not yet ready for such a drastic change.”

“It seems that your people would rather take their time in deciding on something important. That’s good."

"Is it? Oh well. Anyway, I hear there's a grand show on by the palace grounds tonight."

"Yes. There'll be lots of singing ... and dancing  ... and all that stuff."

"Are you coming?"

"Umm ... I don't know ..."

“Go on. Please do. I'd like you to."

"I thought you'd never ask."

"Oh yes. Of course I would. I'm not going to let you get away so easily."

"That silky eastern charm again. Is there no end to your chivalry? But I just love it. Give me more.” Zvietta teased.

"I shall, Milady," Shakranta responded. "I certainly shall. You can bet your last drachma on it."

"Can I?" Zvietta chuckled. "Wow! Alright, alright. That’s enough. For now."

“Splendid,” said Shakranta. “We’ll meet at the main arch then, shall we? Just after dusk?”

“All right. I'll see you there. Would you have any friends coming with you?”

"I think I would. Ashgar and Tegrud. I don't think they can stand just sitting around at home moping while the whole city is having a carnival."

“Great,” said Zvietta. “Amazing. I’ll see you all later then. Doh svidaniya, smoothtalker.” She left him just standing there, in absolute thrall, the smile adorning her face rich with promise.

“That’s me,” Shakranta concurred, rather proudly, smiling back in response. "Doh svidaniya."

What a woman, Shakranta thought. Her casual easygoing style, contrasting with her imperious good looks, totally captivated him.

Shakranta started trudging home to the residence he shared with his two friends, General Ashgar and General Tegrud. The people of this city were so friendly, Shakranta thought. And their girls were so beautiful. Especially the ladies from Kievskaya Ruska. Well, that’s if Zvietta was a typical Kievskaya lass, he noted. Ashgar and Tegrud would surely be delighted with the latest developments.

§

The moon glowed in its fullest glory, its shape as perfectly round as in a painter’s piece, its gilded rim as sharp as the edge of a Byzantine warrior’s sword. The clouds parted before it, like court maidens parting before a princess. The city bathed in brilliant silver light.

The crowds milled and thronged, as new arrivals kept coming in. The place seemed to swell and grow before Shakranta’s very eyes.

“Three strong, handsome, exotic-looking warriors. I’m impressed.” A vibrant melodious female voice interrupted Shakranta, Ashgar and Tegrud from their focused attention on the happenings in the city centre. The face that met their gaze as they turned was equally engaging. “Greetings, gentlemen. I am Demetrea, and I’m happy to meet you all.”

“The Goddess of Fertility!" Ashgar blurted. “We must all be so blessed. So are we to meet you, Goddess. Greetings to you, too. It’s been a very long time since I’ve been fortunate enough to meet a lady as beautiful as you.”

“And I to meet a gentleman as good looking as you,” Demetrea replied with her usual calm confident tone, taking the Persian man's gushing admiration for her smoothly in her stride. Born of a Byzantine Greek mother and a Kievskayan Rus father, she had that arresting, intriguing look of a woman from a mixed union.

"Oooh, I see exciting times ahead for you, Demi,” Zvietta poked her friend gently in the rib, then turned to her right.

"Sure, Zvi. Like there isn't going to be any for you." Demetrea gave a playful retort.

"Well then, Shakranta," Zvietta continued. "Don’t just stand there. Let’s introduce your other friend. He looks rather quiet and shy."

“Ummm … I like to pretend sometimes,” Tegrud murmured with a smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry, girls,” Shakranta finally spoke. “This is Tegrud, my Oghuz friend. He’s the strong silent type. Well, at least initially. But when you get to know him better, he can be as boisterous as any young man.”

“And meet this equally reserved friend of mine, Alonna,” Zvietta continued.

“Hello, Alonna,” Tegrud ventured.

“Hi, Tegrud,” Alonna answered.

“Hey, Shakranta. They look like they’ll make a nice pair, what say you?” Zvietta started teasing.

“I think so too, actually,” replied Shakranta, concurring.

Ashgar and Demetrea seemed to fall under each other’s spell from the moment their eyes met. So strong was the attraction between them, it was almost palpable.

Alonna and Tegrud, meanwhile, appeared content to keep chatting constantly, subtly sizing each other up, generally getting to know each other gradually. Nevertheless, the warmth between them was no less strong and kept growing steadily, inevitably pulling the two closer and closer together.

§

The six quickly became fast friends, spending many days away from their homes, sleeping outdoors in the hills, in the emperor's vast fruit groves and on the beaches, whenever they obtained leave from duty. Ashgar and Tegrud, both of them master archers and riders, taught the girls how to shoot an arrow while riding at speed. Zvietta, Demetrea and Alonna were just delighted to learn from the two men, gamely taking their share of tumbles and falls in the process.

While Shakranta trained them in the most basic moves of silat, the full-ranged fighting style of the Golden Islands, spelek, the four limb boxing form of Amdan Negara, and kalari payattu, the warrior art from the Kerala region of southern India which his Bhangali father had taught him. The girls were especially impressed with Shakranta's deftness with the keris. They were pleased beyond belief when he presented each of them with one and taught them how to wield it.