Ilkay Khatun leaned in, her voice low and full of the dramatic flair she was known for among the women of the court. The flickering light of the room cast long shadows on the walls as she began her tale, drawing everyone in.
"Well, ladies," she said with a sly smile, "you asked how Timurtaş kept all those independent wolves under his command. Let me tell you about the time he showed them all exactly who was the true alpha. It was during one of those grand festivals, a celebration of his birthday. And let me remind you, Timurtaş, though an old man by the calendar, was as fit and strong as any warrior in his prime. You all know what I'm talking about," she added, winking knowingly at the women around her.
The women exchanged glances, nodding. They all remembered how Timurtaş, despite being over 100 years old, still looked like a man in his fifties. His body was still taut with muscle, his posture as straight as ever, and his eyes full of the fire of youth. They had all seen him at court, moving with a grace that seemed impossible for a man his age. It was said that the gods had truly blessed him with the Kut, the divine life force that connected all life, especially to the warriors of Ashina.
Ilkay continued, her tone growing more animated. "So there we were, in the middle of the festival. The whole court was there. The warriors, the merchants, the nobles—all gathered to celebrate his birthday. And Timurtaş, being the grand figure he was, decided to give everyone a bit of entertainment. He announced that he would take on anyone who dared challenge him to an arm-wrestling match."
A murmur of excitement went through the women. They knew this story was about to get good.
"Now, Timurtaş, as you know, was tired of these petty challenges. He had fought a thousand battles, led countless men to victory, and yet, these young warriors thought they could test him in something so trivial. So, one after another, the men stepped forward. And one after another, Timurtaş finished them off in seconds. Three seconds, four seconds—that's all it took. Most of the time, it was even less than that. Two seconds, and it was over."
Ilkay gestured with her hand, mimicking the quick, decisive slam of Timurtaş's arm, as if to emphasize how quickly the matches ended.
"And you should have seen the looks on their faces!" she continued, eyes wide with glee. "These young, strong warriors, men in their prime, who had been training all their lives—humiliated in front of the entire court. And each time, Timurtaş barely broke a sweat. He just smiled that sly smile of his, the one that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing. He was showing them, reminding them, who was really in charge."
One of the younger women leaned forward, her face flushed with excitement. "But what about Uluç?" she asked breathlessly. "Did he challenge him too?"
Ilkay smiled, clearly enjoying the attention. "Ah, yes, Uluç," she said, drawing out the name. "The Shield of Bukhara, the warrior who had swept Baghdad off the map and destroyed the Caliphate. He was in his 40s then, at the peak of his strength. But you have to understand something, ladies—Uluç may have been one of the strongest men in the realm, but he lived under his father's shadow. Timurtaş, the Kutlu Warrior, was the best at everything. Uluç could never compete with him."
The women nodded, understanding. It was hard to imagine being the son of such a legendary figure, constantly living with the knowledge that, no matter what you did, your father would always be better.
"Uluç did challenge his father," Ilkay said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "He stepped forward, and for a moment, the entire festival fell silent. Everyone knew this was going to be the match to watch. Uluç was strong—stronger than almost anyone in the realm. But Timurtaş—" she paused for effect, "Timurtaş was beyond strength. He had the Kut coursing through his veins, the power of the gods themselves."
The women leaned in closer, hanging on Ilkay's every word.
"The match began," Ilkay said, "and for the first time that day, Timurtaş seemed to take it seriously. He leaned in, his eyes locked on Uluç's, and the tension in the air was palpable. Uluç's muscles strained, his face turned red with effort, but it didn't matter. Within seconds, Timurtaş slammed Uluç's arm down onto the table. It was over just like that. Two seconds, maybe three."
Gasps echoed around the room as the women imagined the scene.
"And you should have seen Uluç's face," Ilkay added, shaking her head. "He was furious, of course, but there was nothing he could do. His father was better. Always had been. Always would be."
Ilkay leaned back in her chair, satisfied with the story she had spun. "So you see, ladies," she said with a smile, "that's how Timurtaş kept control. Not just with power, but with the force of his presence, with his ability to remind everyone, even the strongest warriors in the realm, that he was not to be challenged. And that's why, even now, decades later, his legend lives on."
The room was silent for a moment, each woman imagining the scene, picturing the great Timurtaş, the indomitable Kutlu Warrior, standing victorious over every man who dared to challenge him.