Yasak - Forbidden (A Goktug Alp/Kongar Love Story)

Chapter 2

Sogut was a usually busy town, but at night it was as quiet as a mouse. It was dimly lit with small lanterns, yet the most light it was getting was from the inn. Ertugrul Bey had conquered Sogut years ago from the rule of the tyrant Bilecik Governor, which brought plenty of relief to the inhabitants of the town. They had been worn down with extreme and insensible taxes that nearly dried them out, yet Ertugrul's famed justice brought them ease and comfort as traders and merchants. Although betrayal, double-crossing and schemes were commonly done, they were just as caught and put to justice whether it was by severe punishment or death. The Kayis were strict when it came to justice, freedom and equality, and made sure the people who they looked after were well and comfortable.

In that particular dimly lit and quiet town at the peak of midnight, a tall stranger in a hood and cloak skulked along the dimly lit streets of Sogut along with his two companions, glaring at anyone who looked at him. His companions were rather short for men, yet kept the same air and attitude as he did, one of them at the lead. They often made absurd and odd grunts, groans and snorts whilst their tall friend followed along silent and stealthy. Despite his companions' odd noises, the taller man stayed quiet and almost mute, and the only sound coming from him was his large footsteps.

The three entered the inn once they reached it, and were greeted by the portly and small innkeeper who welcomed them warmly. "Should I cook you dinner, Sir?" he asked. The hooded man leading the three threw a pouch of coins at his feet, and said, "I just want the biggest and most beautiful room." The innkeeper nodded and said, "Follow me then, Sir." The tall man looked around as the innkeeper led them upstairs to a dimly lit but large room. The inn was well kept, clean and busy. The Kayis took care of this place well, he thought to himself. "Here you go, Sir," said the innkeeper as he scuffled out of the room to leave the three hooded men to their privacy.

They loosened their hoods a little, although not completely; as they lit the room, their faces became more visible. One man, who was evidently their leader, was lighting candles from the fireplace. He had a gloomy and dark face with shaggy and unkempt facial hair, and odd, ship-like noises were being made in his throat, his lips slightly parted for them to be audible to others. The second man, who was even shorter than he was, took out a bunch of incense sticks and then poured water into a large metal bowl. His mouth hung open as if he were a thirsty dog, his bulging yet slanted eyes leering into his ugly reflection in the bowl of water. Unlike the other man, he barely had any facial hair, except for the barest ghost of a mustache. He sat down cross legged, and gestured to the last man to sit opposite him.

The taller man sat down opposite him and crossed his legs too. Though the room was dimly lit, his face was clearly seen; he was a lot better looking and evidently younger than the other two, his beard was neatly trimmed and his face was cleaner, although still rather smudged. From his height and bulk under the cape and hood, it was evident that he was powerfully built and his face was devoid of any emotion; instead his expression made him look as if he would pounce on the slightest movement or sound. His striking ocean blue eyes wandered around the room, whilst waiting for his leader to join them sitting down on the floor of the room. He soon walked over and sat down between the two, the noise in his throat getting louder as he passed his companions a lit candle each, whilst saving one for himself. He murmured a strange chant in Mongolian, and the other two joined in, their deep voices chanting and growling in unison. When they were done chanting, their head took out a dagger and cut his own hand.

"There will not be a piece of land left that is not under Gengis Khan's shadow," he announced in his deep, hoarse voice. He passed his dagger to his tall companion, who did the same. "We will be questioned for the souls of our soldiers which the dark soil does not give back," he said, his voice deep as well, yet smoother than his leader's, who grinned at him and said, "Osman and his Alps will live with this nightmare forever. Vilely, without a soul or skin..." "We will raid their tribe tomorrow, make wine from their blood, boots from their skin and jewels from their honour, Commander Balgay," snickered the last companion as he slit his own hand, and nodded to his shaggy-bearded leader. Balgay held up his hand at his bulge-eyed soldier and said, "I want you to bring the Beys of the Tribes and Sogut here to me tomorrow, Cerkutay." Cerkutay nodded in obedience, as his leader continued, "Do not forget; every Turk gives up 12 Pieces of Gold in tax. It is stupid to kill the chicken that gives the golden eggs... Do not forget why we came." His men grinned at him before he announced, "For wealth, and for blood." He smiled a haunting smile at his blue-eyed companion, who repeated after him; "For wealth, and for blood."