BOOK II OF III: The Reign of the Sultan Read online

  Once there, each sat down in their assigned seats—Baltor to the left and Brishava to the right. As soon as they were seated, the trumpeters finished their tune.

  As Brishava had earlier instructed Baltor, thirty seconds of silence passed before he issued the command, “You may all rise.”

  Once everyone had risen, Ruksha then announced, “And now, it is my sovereign duty and privilege to introduce to you all….Ruling-General Humonus, and his lovely wife, Lady Chelsea.”

  The two trumpeters began to blow out a different tune—every single officer in attendance snapped to the position of attention, each snapping his sharpest salute! The nobles simply watched.

  All the while Humonus and Chelsea continued to walk to the spot that Brishava had earlier instructed them to go, which was near the head table.

  Once they had arrived, Humonus returned the salute to the officers, and then he and his wife stood by their seats, both silently and patiently, as had also been instructed to them.

  A few moments later, a servant came out from the side area bearing a golden tray that beheld two golden goblets and a jug of wine. Before the opportunity came for Baltor or Brishava to take the goblets, however, still another man came out, and visibly took a sip from the jug.

  Thirty seconds later, when that man appeared fine, he then bowed and left.

  The servant began to fill both goblets. Once filled, he extended out the golden tray, to which Baltor took his goblet. The servant then walked over to Brishava, and she took hers.

  Once that servant had departed after a low bow, Baltor raised his goblet of wine high into the air with his left hand, and declared with a smile, “As your new Sultan, my first order is that we immediately commence to celebrating! We’ll deal with any and all business tomorrow.”

  Baltor took a deep drink of wine from his goblet.

  “Hooray!” most of the nobles and officers cheered, raising their beverage-filled glasses into the air, and then drinking heartily.

  The orchestra recommenced to playing the celebratory music. Meanwhile, the nobles began to head back to their original positions, as the dancers simultaneously headed back to the dance floor.

  Once the floor was clear of the last noble a few minutes later, the dancers began to dance in perfect synchronization to the music. The rest of the celebratory night was spectacular, filled with wonderful food, ales, wines, songs, poems and dance!

  Like always, Baltor used his personal season shaker, spreading it over any food or drink that he consumed. This seasoning consisted entirely of the dried red berries from the cah-su-cahn bush, which was one of the two only ways his special vampiric hungers could be quenched. The only other way was by drinking human blood. Of course, no one in the world knew that he was an immortal vampire, other than the one who had made him into this undead creature in the first place.

  Around two in the morning, or so, Baltor and Brishava departed for their bedroom, but they did not go to sleep right away. Instead, they played a nice game of voo-span—Brishava won.

  An hour or so before sunrise, the palace guards kindly but firmly escorted the last of the drunken guests out of the throne room, so that the servants could clean up the mess before their Sultaness had awoken.

  At sunrise, booths were set up outside the outer palace walls, and throngs of citizens had surprisingly come up to volunteer. Shortly after sunset, the last of the recruited volunteers had left, and so the recruiters began the process of tallying up their numbers.

  Once the grand total of new enlistees was tallied, nearly fifteen minutes later, the lead-recruiter personally delivered this number to Humonus, who had been overseeing the entire process, along with his two top generals—Hawkins and Han. Once these three men knew the number, they forthwith entered the palace.

  Inside the courtyard, Humonus saw that the general-in-charge of the palace and grounds was patiently waiting for their return.

  After salutes had been exchanged, Humonus asked, “Where are the Sultan and Sultaness, General Gray?”

  Gray reported, “Sir, the Sultan has recently woken up, and is currently in the former Sultan’s bedchambers getting dressed for the night. As for the Sultaness, she is still listening to the nobles’ inquiries, concerns, and complaints in the throne room. From what I understand, she’s been very busy almost all day long.”

  Once Humonus had returned the salute, as did his top generals, he replied, “Thank you, general—carry on.”

  “Yes, sir,” Gray said while snapping yet another sharp salute.

  Humonus and his two top generals returned that salute, just before making their way to Baltor’s location on the top floor—as for Gray, he was already gone, continuing his mission to oversee palace affairs.

  Once the three commanding officers had arrived at the room with the balcony a few minutes later, the two exterior guards stationed outside the double doors snapped a salute—once those salutes had been returned, the guards simultaneously opened his individual door.

  Humonus was the only one to enter the room—Hawkins and Han waited outside. A moment later, the interior guards had already closed the doors from the inside.

  After entering the chambers and looking around, Humonus observed that Baltor was standing in front of a large ovular mirror that hung from the wall, and was just getting finished being dressed and groomed by his assistants.

  Baltor, who had observed Humonus enter the room through the mirror, asked, “So…how many enlistees do we now possess?”

  Humonus reported, “My Sultan, you have thirty-eight thousand, one hundred twenty-eight new soldiers under your command, which makes your new grand total to seventy-nine thousand and three.

  “By your command, we accepted only those whose ages ranged from thirteen to fifty and looked capable to fight—not surprisingly, nearly twenty thousand candidates didn’t fit your prerequisites.”

  At this point, the assistants had just finished their last task, which was placing the crown on their Sultan’s head, and so they silently bowed for a moment, just before they exited the room while pushing the portable closet on wheels.

  Still gazing at himself in the mirror, Baltor really liked the horizontal-striped black and silver robes, which snugly fit around his muscular body, barely missing the floor by a half an inch only because of the inch-high padded sandals he wore. Meanwhile, his ears continued to listen attentively to Humonus’s report.

  Perhaps three seconds after he had stopped speaking, Humonus continued, “Instead of just letting them go, however, what we did was to recruit their services in whatever talents and skills they possess that can best serve the Sharia Empire.”

  “Excellent work,” Baltor congratulated. He turned around, clapped both hands together, and then said with pride in his voice, “I know that you are the best in finding the best in people, my best friend!”

  Humonus couldn’t help but release a chuckle as he glanced toward the ground. Looking back up with a smile still upon his face, he then said, “Thank you, my Sultan! I have more information that should please you even greater still…”

  Nearly five seconds later, Humonus’s expression turned quite serious as he added, “I have taken the liberty to inform the newly-enlisted soldiers, both men and women, as well our regular army and navy, that we shall begin training precisely at ten thirty tomorrow night.

  “Following, each and every night, our training times will constantly vary in length—sometimes during the day and sometimes during the night—it is my intention to ensure that we are prepared for war… no matter the time!”

  “Most excellent,” Baltor replied. “Did I forget to mention that I will be assisting you with the training whenever possible?”

  Humonus answered, “Yes, you did forget to mention this to me, but I already assumed that you would want to be there whenever possible, so that you can learn and understand the forces that are yours to command, my Sultan!”

  “Absolutely,” Baltor replied enthusiastically.

  After darting a quick glan
ce back toward the exit, Humonus asked, “If you will excuse me, I still have some important technical issues to go over with all my generals, my Sultan.”

  Thirty seconds of silence passed without an answer from Baltor. On the thirty-first second, he answered, “My Ruling-General, before you go, I will need five more minutes of your precious time.”

  Humonus’s right eyebrow angled a bit farther upon hearing Baltor address him solely by his rank for the very first time. Despite his curiosities, he remained silent and unmoving.

  Baltor found he had to clear his throat a couple times, before he could say, “Ruling-General, I have a personal problem that requires an immediate solution. I first became aware of this problem last night, but have been deeply brewing about it non-stop ever since. Only tonight has my solution revealed itself in my thoughts—something that I’m about to go and resolve in about ten minutes or so.”

  After taking a deep breath through his nose, he added, “Have no doubt that this top-secret mission shall be for the honor, glory, and the future of this empire—my Ruling General! Once accomplished, this will prove to quite a few particular people, who shall remain nameless at this time, that I am not just a common peasant or thug, yet the Sultan of the Sharia Empire.”

  During the first half of Baltor’s answer, Humonus’s keen mind had begun to suspect that his ears were about to hear “something” that he wouldn’t like hearing. By the end, regardless of his personal opinion in the matter, he couldn’t refute the reign of the Sultan.

  Upon drawing this conclusion, perhaps twenty-two seconds after Baltor had stopped talking, Humonus could only reply with his right eyebrow raised, “Yes, my Sultan?”

  Baltor first looked down to the ground, and a few moments later, he added, “Actually, to be honest with you….I wasn’t even going to tell anyone at all about this until my mission was complete, too include you and the Sultaness.”

  After taking a deep gulp of air, he added, “However, solely because I have known you most of my life and we have been best friends for most of that, I’m going to tell you.”

  Humonus’s left eyebrow joined the right eyebrow, as he asked yet again, “Yes, my Sultan?”

  As Baltor looked back up until he was staring at his friend eye-to-eye, he began, “I cannot allow the Thieves Guild of Pavelus to exist the way it is anymore, and for a quite a few important reasons! The greatest reason, as you once told me long ago, there is a fifty thousand parsec bounty on my head, which I’m pretty sure has multiplied by now.”

  Humonus not only nodded his head in understanding, yet his right forearm came to rest upon his stomach while his left elbow rested upon his right hand. Right away, he began to gently stroke his whiskerless chin. Still, he spoke not a single word, as he knew there was more to come, of which he was about to hear.

  Baltor, after a few seconds of pause, continued, “Another reason why the Guild can no longer exist is because there are children going through these obstacle courses, in order to become thieves instead of what they should really become—a Special Forces Guild working for the Sharia Empire.”

  After taking a deep breath through his nose, he added, “Yet this ‘top secret guild’ will be known to only a very select few—you, the Sultaness, Chelsea, and I for sure… and of course, the students, instructors and the masters who join up! Thus, I am going to call this Guild’s forces, ‘Shadow Force.’”

  With an ever-growing smile on Humonus’s pleased face, which smile even caused the thin scar on his left cheek to slightly twist out of alignment, he extended the palms of both hands into the air and exclaimed, “That is an absolutely wonderful idea, Baltor, my Sultan!”

  Still bearing a very serious expression on his face, Baltor extended his left hand and index finger into the air in front of him…

  Humonus’s face immediately sobered up as he realized he was just about to hear the part he wouldn’t like hearing.

  “What you are not going to like hearing,” Baltor confirmed, “is the method I’m going to use in order to accomplish my mission—I’m going alone!”

  Humonus asked incredulously, “Why on earth would you want to go alone instead of simply sending a division of our best soldiers with you and I at the helm, and capture the Guild through force and numbers?”

  Baltor answered, “Because my desire is to not only take control of the Guild, yet also as many of the members as possible—students, thieves, instructors, master thieves, even the Secret Chief, if possible!”

  “I see…” Humonus answered. “So, how exactly are you going to prove anything by going to the Guild alone? At the very least, let me go with you, as I once bore the title of ‘Drill Instructor Thief’ as you well know—not only might I have a little pull, yet I can also watch your back while you watch mine!

  “You also know all-too-well how malicious and backstabbing thieves can be when they learn that their way of life is about to change permanently…”

  Baltor looked down the ground as he pondered the words of his mentor, best friend, and teacher. Finally, he responded, “If you go with me, then the Guild will see me hiding behind you as if I was still a student, instead of fully respecting me as their Sultan! Basically, in a nutshell, they will see me as a coward.”

  Humonus countered, “My Sultan, you are certainly one of the best fighters I’ve ever seen in my life, and certainly no coward—in a few ways, you are even naturally more skilled than I am!

  “Nevertheless, the odds of you winning single handedly against them are a thousand to one, especially for the fact that most of the Guild are equally trained, some far more in our martial arts. A few of those master thieves I know are better than the both of us put together, which I don’t like to admit, but they are!”

  Without the slightest hesitation, Baltor evenly replied, “Trust me—I know what I’m doing, and I will win. I am not destined to lose now after I have come so far!”

  Realizing that Baltor had already made his decision, Humonus promised, “As you command, my Sultan, but you better come out of this alive, or whenever that time comes for me to die, my ghost will haunt your ghost for all eternity!”

  With a humored smile and a slight chuckle, Baltor patted Humonus’s right shoulder several times with his right hand, while replying, “I will. By the way, will you and Chelsea be free in two hours hence? Brishava and I would very much like to have a late dinner with the both of you.”

  “As you command, my Sultan,” Humonus said, though there was still a very worried expression on his face.

  Baltor noticed the look, but only ordered, “Tend to your affairs, my friend and Ruling-General….dismissed.”

  Humonus bowed, and then replied, “Yes, my Sultan.”

  He then turned and headed for the doors that the guards had just opened for him—he and his two top generals headed for the commanders’ meeting, and the soldiers stationed outside closed the doors.

  As for Baltor, he turned back around, and silently stared at himself in the mirror for about five minutes. Once that timeframe was up, he turned around until he faced the two guards stationed at the double doors.

  He then said just loud enough so the guards could hear, “Guards, in a moment, I want the two of you to exit my room, and to not come back in here until I have delivered that vocalized command. Before the two of you go, I command that no one—not even the Sultaness—enters this very room until you hear me deliver my next command for you two to enter…

  “Finally, anything that you may have just heard between the Ruling-General and I, you are never to speak to anyone. Are all my commands clearly understood?”

  Even though neither guard understood why their Sultan wanted to be alone in the dressing room, nor had they heard a single word, both guards cried out, “Yes, my Sultan!”

  They then opened their respective door, exited the room, closed the doors behind them, and then relayed their Sultan’s orders to the two guards stationed on the other side of the doors—not a single guard voiced out their curiosities and questions, howe
ver.

  CHAPTER III

  Once alone, Baltor walked over to the walk-in closet and entered for the very first time.

  He observed that this angular hallway zigzagged back and forth every twenty feet, was made of a light-stained cedar that smelled pleasantly sweet and contained hundreds of luxurious outfits and coats for any occasion fathomable—everything was hanging spaciously and neatly on hangers, which in turn hung on a single brass coatrack. Tons of shoes, boots, socks, belts and hats sat stockpiled on shelves ... above and below the coatrack.

  Nearly a minute later, he finally spotted a plain, black outfit that he felt would not only fit him perfectly, yet be perfect for his “top-secret mission”—a pair of boots, pants, shirt and a velvet cape with hood.

  He took off his clothes, hung them neatly upon an unused hanger, donned the black clothes and boots, secured the cape around his neck, and drew the hood completely over his head, which cast his face deep in dark shadows.

  After exiting the closet and walking back over to the mirror, he took one final glance at himself in order to make sure he would be totally incognito … he was.

  Right away he walked over to the edge of the balcony, and looked out across the palace grounds … as he saw the coast was clear right then, Baltor climbed over the rail and jumped off the five-story balcony headfirst.

  The second his hands made contact with a concrete sidewalk, only four seconds later, his body rolled out the shock with a somersault and he was once again on his feet!

  Stealthily and speedily, he ran through the palace grounds and up to the eighty-foot palace walls, all the while avoiding the patrolling palace guards—once he arrived at the wall, perhaps a minute later, he hid behind a large bush as two such guards passed on by.

  As soon as those guards were gone, Baltor scaled his way up to the top of the wall. Once at the top, perhaps fifteen seconds later, he ensured the coast was clear on the other side of the wall, and as it was, he climbed over and dropped the eighty feet down to the ground, this time feet first. Upon making contact with the ground, perhaps six seconds later, his powerful legs easily absorbed all the shock!