On the fourth day the caravan-bashi came up to the khan.
‘We are very grateful for your hospitality, O Great Khan,’ he said. ‘But it is time for us to continue on our journey before the winter snowfalls close the mountain passes.’
‘The pleasure was all mine,’ the khan answered. ‘I will tell my djigits to show you the shortest way through my lands and to make sure that you are safe. On your way back I will be happy to see you again.’
The khan knew that the word about his hospitality would spread among the merchants and they would prefer to take this new route, knowing that it was safe and they had a place to rest.
So the khan ordered to build a big caravanserai in this valley. He saw to it that his shepherds always had fresh meat and kumys for the exhausted travellers and his djigits guarded them from bandits. Very soon many caravans were coming to this great caravanserai—and they were paying the khan handsomely for food and protection. They also brought exotic goods from far away lands and the khan enjoyed fine silks from the East, lovely furs from the North, precious stones from the South, and beautiful carpets from the West. His whole country was prospering like never before. The caravanserai was always crowded and the word about it spread far and wide, to the envy of the khan’s neighbours.
Then the khan got old and died and his son became the ruler of the land. The young khan was spoilt and greedy and he decided that the merchants should pay more. And more. And even more. They should pay just for the right to pass through the khan’s land. And for the protection of his djigits. And, of course, they should pay for food and lodging at the caravanserai. The charges became so high that fewer and fewer caravans chose this route. Then the young khan decided that, one way or another, he would get what he wanted. Instead of guarding the travellers, his djigits started robbing them.
‘Why get only a part of their wealth?’ the young khan thought. ‘I can take all of it!’ And he did.
That’s when caravans started to avoid his land altogether and chose another route, through his neighbour’s country.
‘He’s getting what should be rightfully mine!’ the young khan thought and went to war with his neighbours.
But his army was defeated, the khan got killed and the caravanserai was forgotten for now travellers followed a different route. And so it stands, half ruined and deserted, in a small valley, away from the main road.
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