Bahador is caught up in a losing battle and flees but fleeing is probably as dangerous as staying, because he is soon in the enemies camp – a prisoner. That night the Hittite general, Katuzili, uses him as a sexual toy and introduces him to his traitorous friend.
But Bahador is not lacking in courage or resourcefulness, and hearing their plots to destroy his beloved king he uses trickery to escape and warn his people and his king. When he arrives with his warnings though, it is he who is looked upon as a traitor and must prove his honestly and loyalty to the man he loves above all others.
“Take him to my tent,” the Hittite noble cried as his driver flicked the reins and his chariot moved off, while several of his men stayed behind to carry out his wishes. I remained naked, my linen tunic in shreds on the ground and my armor mostly gone in the hands of the fleeing men, but my wrists were tied, and I was led off to the enemy camp. In spite of my condition I tried to walk with pride, and fortunately I had been left with my sandals, but even so, on the rough, stony ground, I was occasionally staggering.
We did not cross the battlefield itself but skirted it at some distance to reach the Hittite’s camp. But even so I passed many of my fellows lying dead, as well as Hittite soldiers. All so young and brave and their lives cut so short, and I could have shed tears for all of them, but I tried not to. I had my own problems to worry about just then.