On Kowtow III

Shamir ‘the Fat’

Ioseph had never had that happen to him before. As he awoke he saw the wide eyes of the guard and Adalbert, but he could not hear them. They had helped him up and the ringing in his ears had gone, but everything sounded damp. He screamed and as more gathered around him their eyes were wide open too, some of their mouths as well. Ioseph cursed at them, thinking himself in a dream and fell to his knees, screaming at the ground until he slowly began to hear things again. Breathing heavily, one of the guards simply said ‘Here, Basileus, let me help you to your carriage…’ and another two guards came quickly, and just as quickly other guards told the courtiers of the caravan and merchants to make way or disperse.

As he sat in his tent and a fire was being prepared, he sat at the makeshift desk in his fold-able chair, staring at two candles as they danced upon their wax. He was sunk into the chair, leaning on one of his hands and he fumbled with his mustache, staring at the fire hoping to get an answer. He heard them mumble he was possessed as he passed them, those foolish courtiers. He wasn’t possessed! He just had… a slight weakness of body for the moment. He would swear them all to secrecy, that would do it… Perhaps… Perhaps they already spoke among themselves, among the merchants that passed towards the East, or from the East to the West. It would reach the Capitol in no time, yet he knew due to his status no one would say a word to his face. He would be saved that embarrassment at least.

Ioseph stripped off his royal regalia and went down onto the rug near his bed that had been assembled for him in the tent. His torso was bare and he began to do push-ups. Ten. Twenty. Forty push-ups he had done, all the while cursing under his breath.

“I’m the…”

Sixty-six.

“Basileus…”

Sixty-seven.

“Hell upon them…”

Sixty-eight.

“…who…”

Sixty-nine.

“Doubt my power!”

Seventy. Seventy-one. Seventy-two.

“I am the hammer!”

Seventy-three.

“Of…god!”

Seventy-four. Seventy-five.

Ioseph stopped, as he heard the guards speaking outside. Sweat glistened upon his chest lightly, as beads formed around the middle of his hairy chest. He flexed a few times, admiring his arms as he waited to hear if someone wished to have his audience. He was a strong man, not weak. Surely the fools will connect his momentary lapse of physical weakness to his mental stability, not his physical prowess. That satisfied Ioseph as he smiled, turning his right arm back and forth. There was no doubt all knew he was strong, but perhaps a bit mad. He could handle that, but if they questioned his physical strength… they’d have to fight him!

A guard entered, noticed he was bare, but kept a straight face and maintained eye contact with Ioseph. Ioseph smiled.

“What is it?” Ioseph asked and turned away, grabbing a cloth to wipe his brow.

“A rider has arrived my Basileus. He stopped well outside the camp, but has brought forth a message from his liege.”

“Well, what is it?” Ioseph asked impatiently.

“Bring him in!” The guard had turned and shouted out to the tent. The other personal guard of Ioseph’s entered with a merchant Ioseph had seen once, who was accompanying their caravan towards the East. He bowed deeply before Ioseph after removing his hat and spoke in broken Greek:

“Basileus, King of Kings, I have translated the message from the envoy. He comes from the Ahmadid Emirate, led by Emir Shamir III.”

Ioseph looked surprised, still shirtless, at the merchant. The merchant looked at the ground, then continued after a short pause.

“Uhm, the Emir has heard of you passing through his lands. Upon hearing that you are staying nearby, he has invited you to stay with your party in the warm castle of Tashkurgan. What shall I inform the messenger, Basileus?”

The merchant then looked up, but upon seeing Ioseph’s bare chest, averted his eyes back to the ground. Ioseph turned around, walking around the tent a fair bit, scratching his chin. “Hmmm… Emir Shamir III… Warm castle… I could use a warm castle again. I miss the stone floors, the maidens… Ah the young maidens... Perhaps, I could also make a friend?”

Ioseph smiled and turned to the merchant who met his gaze. Upon seeing Ioseph’s smile, the merchant smiled as well.

“A warm bed and a hot meal are most welcome. Inform the messenger that I look forward to staying with the Emir.”

The merchant nodded and exited the tent quickly, followed by the guards. Ioseph nodded as he watched them leave, only to get back on the ground to continue the push-ups.

One…two…three…