One of Timurtaş's older lovers, a woman whose presence commanded attention even in her age, leaned in with a knowing smile. "Oh, İlkay Hatun, you're always so smart with your conclusions. But listen, ladies, I've seen Martha—I've seen her walk with Timurtaş through the gardens, in the training grounds of Constantinople, right there where the great warriors trained and prepared for war. It was a sight, let me tell you. Timurtaş, despite being such a feared conqueror, was so knowledgeable about every piece of equipment in that camp. Marta, with her curious mind, couldn't help but be intrigued. She wasn't just interested in the man with a sword, no, no—she wanted to see inside the brain of a conqueror. She wanted to know what made Timurtaş, the Kutlu Warrior, tick."
The other women murmured in agreement, their curiosity piqued as the older woman continued, her voice filled with reminiscence.
"Marta, you see, had been reading all these stories—you know, the tales of conquest, of empires rising and falling. But what she wanted was to understand how these legends thought, how they made decisions that changed the course of history. And Timurtaş, being who he was, didn't just give her some vague responses. Oh no, he was different with her. There was a time, a particular period in their relationship, where Martha would bombard Timurtaş with questions. She wanted to know everything—the politics of his empire, the reasons behind his conquests, the rules that governed his kingdom, and most importantly, his religion, the way he viewed the world as a man of Tengriism."
The older lover's eyes sparkled as she spoke, remembering the intense discussions that must have unfolded between Martha and Timurtaş.
"Marta was always direct. One day, she asked him, 'What kind of man are the Turkish people, Timurtas? Tell me about these lands. I've read in the old stories they were once called Oğuz El, but now you've turned them into Türk-il. How did you do it? What makes your people different from the others? What's the secret of your power?'"
The ladies leaned closer, hanging on every word, as the older woman recounted Timurtaş's response.
"Now, here's where Timurtaş started talking about his culture. He told her how it was so very different from the West. Over there, lineage was everything, right? In the West, if you didn't have the bloodline, if you weren't an heir, well, you didn't have much of a chance to rule. Everything was about who your parents were, who your ancestors were. But with Timurtaş and his people, it was a whole different story."
"'Here,' Timurtaş said, 'it's not about bloodlines alone. It's about who can lead. It's about power, control, and the ability to command respect. We're like a pack of wolves, and in every pack, there's only one alpha. One leader who has to rise above the rest and unite the pack. And if you fail? Well, the wolves devour each other. That's the nature of our world.'"
The room went quiet for a moment, the metaphor sinking in. Timurtaş, as always, had a way with words—both powerful and chilling.
"Then," the older lover continued, "he went on about his army and his commanders. 'Uluç, my son, commands my armies,' he told Marta. 'But you have to understand, when he goes to war, he spends 40% of my income on it. Forty percent! And even when he's not at war, he continues spending. Why? Because he doesn't just pay his soldiers for fighting—he supports their lives too. He pays for their weddings, he helps raise their children. He ensures that they're not just faceless men in his army, but men of influence, men with stories, men who are bound to him for life.'"
The older lover chuckled softly. "And then he gave examples. He mentioned Kara, of course. And Kılıç and Togay, Uluç's son. All these men—they're powerful in their own right. Men who, in any other empire, would be rivals, enemies even. But in Timurtaş's empire, they are all bound together. Bound by loyalty, by respect, and by the fear that without him, they'd be devoured by the other wolves."
The women around the room nodded, some with admiration, others with awe.
"And that's what Martha found so fascinating, you see," the older woman continued. "She realized that Timurtaş wasn't just a conqueror because he could win battles. No, no—he was a conqueror because he understood how to control these wolves. How to make them loyal to him. And in that moment, Martha saw a side of Timurtaş that no one else had ever seen. The man behind the armor. The mind that controlled an empire."
The other women exchanged looks, their admiration for Timurtaş deepening. He wasn't just a warrior—he was a man who understood the intricacies of power and loyalty, a man who knew how to unite the most dangerous men in the realm under his command.
"And that," the older lover concluded, "is what makes Timurtaş truly unstoppable. It wasn't just his strength or his conquests. It was his mind—his ability to understand people, to control them, and to turn even the most dangerous wolves into his loyal followers."
The room buzzed with murmurs of agreement, the legend of Timurtaş growing even larger in their minds.