The first team consisted of a dozen master seamstresses who would produce three very beautiful curtains made from thick wool.
The second team consisted of a dozen master blacksmiths who would forge a large number of massive shiny balls, both ten and twenty-five pounds.
It was in Jamar’s blueprints that once the curtains and the balls were complete, the ten-pound balls would become interwoven into the tops of all three curtains, while the twenty-five pound balls into the bottom—thus making the three curtains one very thick and solid curtain.
The third and final team consisted of a dozen master engineers who would remodel the entire room into an octagonal shape. Once that project was complete, they were then to create an ingrained slider within the ceiling that the ten-pound balls could fit within, and thus, the guards could slide open and shut the curtain, though it would take more than a dozen guards to do so.
With all these protective measure, not even the fiercest of the desert winds would make these curtains move a single inch. Late that afternoon, he finally delivered the report to the Sultaness that it would take approximately two-to-three months to complete everything, and cost a little more than four hundred thousand parsecs. Immediately after the report was complete, Brishava agreed, and Jamar left to oversee the entire process.
As for the Sultaness, she spent the rest of her busy day diplomatically tending to an ambassador from the Province of Pastra who had just arrived by ship. After the afternoon-long meeting was over, just before sunset that evening, she entered their temporary bedchambers in the old harem room, and placed her head gently upon her husband’s breathing stomach.
When Baltor awoke, perhaps ten minutes later when the sun had set, he was happy to see his wife lovingly and tenderly gazing up into his eyes.
“Good evening my husband,” she greeted, before giving him an ever-so-sweet smile.
“Good evening to you, my wife,” he greeted back, returning a crooked smile.
She sat up in bed, before asking, “So are you ready for dinner—I’m starving!”
“I’m not starving, but I am hungry. What’s for dinner?”
“Filet mignons, the spiced potatoes you love so much, and a nice garden salad,” Brishava answered with a sweet smile. “Oh, and a nice bottle of wine that the Ambassador to Pastra gave to us as a parting gift. He apologized for not staying longer, but had to leave for Thorium right away on some urgent business for their King, business not related to us.”
Baltor replied, “Good to know.”
Brishava rose to her feet, and said, “I’ll meet you in the royal dining hall when you’re done in about a half an hour, okay?”
“Okay,” Baltor said, just before he rose to his feet.
After she had given him a quick kiss, she departed the room.
Baltor first took a quick bath, dried himself off with a towel, put on his drawers, walked over in front of the large mirror, and said, “Assistants—you may enter.”
Two seconds later, his assistants entered from the front doors the exterior guards had opened—two pushed a closet-on-wheels.
Today they dressed him into his new chain mail armor, combat boots and crowned helmet—twenty minutes later, they bowed and departed.
After Baltor had exited the room, his guards escorted him to the royal dining hall, where Chelsea and Brishava were already sitting down at the table set for three—as soon as he taken his seat, the servants began serving them all dinner.
Meanwhile, Chelsea relayed, “If you’re wondering where my husband is, he’s taking a nap—he said before closing his eyes that he was really exhausted from work today, but that he would be up by ten o’clock for sure for tonight’s training session.”
“Okay, thank you,” Baltor said with a smile, just before he sprinkled his special seasoning all over his food, sliced open his filet mignon with his knife, and took a bite into his steak. Delicious!
“You’re welcome, my Sultan!”
In between taking tiny bites of food, Brishava began to relay all the very important accomplishments she had done this day—on occasion, Baltor and/or Chelsea nodded their heads and/or said something to the effect of “Great job!”
Following dinner, the three played an exciting card game that lasted for the next few hours. Precisely at ten, Humonus arrived, and Brishava and Chelsea retired to their rooms and went to bed.
Baltor, Humonus, and a platoon-sized number of palace guards departed the palace by horseback, making their way for the training grounds that was set up just outside the city to the northeast—of course Baltor rode on his prized black warhorse, Grasha.
Despite all of Humonus’s highly detailed briefings, Baltor still became rather surprised and pleased, upon discovering of the expansive training grounds that spanned from horizon to horizon.
Besides the troops that were utilizing the eighty or so various obstacle courses and weapons-training grounds, there were other large clusters of soldiers standing idly by, sitting, or even lying on the ground, while only a few small groups stretched, or did pushups or sit-ups.
In many ways did these training grounds remind Baltor of the Guild’s training grounds, except for the fact that all of these obstacles were above ground without bottomless pits.
With a point of his finger, Humonus directed Baltor toward a large, wooden platform in the very middle of the training grounds that hovered twenty-five feet in the air upon anchored wooden posts—this is where they rode.
A ladder reached to the top of this platform, where rested lit cauldrons at each of the square corners on top—standing to the left and the right side was a trumpeter with a trumpet in one hand and a flag of the Sharia Empire in the other.
Humonus was the first to dismount his horse and climb up to the top. Once there, he faced the troops, and snapped to the position of attention. After his Sultan stood by his side, two seconds later, he stated in a commanding tone of voice, “Form ranks!”
The two trumpeters blew out the three-toned signal, while they raised the flag in their other hand high into the air, just before waving that flag around in wide circles over their head.
Despite the fact that Humonus had explained to everyone the proper way to “form ranks” in their very first formation earlier this day, only a third of them went to their assigned spots and properly performed the position of attention. The second third went to their assigned spots, but looked sloppy, and the remainder couldn’t figure out where to go or what to do.
While all this chaotic formation-assembling was going on, Humonus looked over at Baltor and quietly asked, “So did Mistress Tricia come to visit you earlier this evening?”
Baltor nodded his head, and just as quietly he answered, “Yes. Shortly after dinner when Brishava and I were sitting on our thrones, she arrived—she even delivered a gift-wrapped box containing the world map. After she and I left to talk in private, we had a nice and professional chat about the future of Shadow Force…
“Just before she left, perhaps thirty minutes after her arrival, she informed me that she was very optimistic about all our plans, both short term and long term.”
After purposefully clucking his tongue against the roof his mouth one time, he added, “In the meantime, as you can see, we have a little over a two hundred thieves of all ranks in our ranks, not including thirty-five Drill Instructors and twelve Senior Drill Instructors. They will help us with the martial arts training for our troops, and they will fight with us when Emperor Vaspan and his army arrives.”
Humonus replied with a rather surprised tone of voice, “Outstanding work, my Sultan.”
Baltor replied with a wink, “Thanks, my friend.”
By this time, everyone had filed into ranks, some thanks to the assistance of others. Meanwhile, the members from the former thieves’ guild had all spread amongst the rest of the ranks, so they could assist.
By the handle, Humonus picked up a three-foot long, cone-shaped, steel object off the platform, put the smaller end near his mouth with the larger
end facing the soldiers, and his voice was magnified three times like a megaphone as he said, “Troops of the Sharia Empire—introductions are all over now, so I don’t need to reintroduce myself…
“What I do need to restate is the fact that in less than five weeks from now, we all shall be facing an army that is vastly superior to us in numbers, training and experience.”
After taking a deep breath, he added, “It is therefore my intention to ensure that before this time comes, we will not only be combat ready, but ready to claim our first victory together—no matter the odds stacked against us!”
Cheering and whooping erupted from amongst the ranks!
Once silence reigned again, about twenty seconds later, Humonus continued, “Additionally, our Sultan has graciously volunteered his time and services to assist with your training—as you all will soon come to know, he is a master in the combative sense, like I am.
“Once I give the command, I want each of you to find a random partner near your location. After the Sultan and I have finished demonstrating a technique, I want all of you to practice this technique upon your partner, and he or she upon you…
“Even though you may not master a single technique for quite some time—that is okay. We will continue on, as we have hundreds of battle techniques for you to learn, practice and master… some techniques will be very difficult and other will be very easy.
“Know and remember that each and every technique that we use begins in the basic ready stance—your feet must be at a ninety-degree angle at all times. Your hands need to hang loosely by your sides. Your knees slightly bent. Your body weight evenly distributed between your feet. Now, go find your partner.”
While the troops sought out a partner, Humonus pulled the megaphone away from his mouth and set it on the ground before he suggested, “My Sultan, please allow me to remove the sheaths strapped on your back, so that your swords do not become damaged. Furthermore, let me also strongly suggest you never do somersaults with your swords in their sheaths—for the same reason.”
“Good point, my Ruling General, yes,” Baltor replied, before performing a left-face so that his back was facing Humonus.
Right away Humonus unlatched the sheaths, before setting them near the corner of the platform and then returning to his original position.
After everyone had found a partner in under a minute, and silence once again reigned within the ranks, Humonus performed a left-face. He called out in a very loud tone of voice, “My Sultan, throw your best punch at my face with your right hand!”
Even though Baltor instantly threw a fast-and-furious punch with his right hand, Humonus still managed to catch Bator’s wrist in both of his hands. Right away he twisted both of his own wrists until Baltor’s body literally flew over his head and slammed hard into the ground!
Humonus didn’t stop there, and while continuing to grip firmly Baltor’s twisted-up fist, he twisted even more, which caused massive spasms of pain to instantly cross Baltor’s face as his body twisted up into a pretzel—Baltor tapped the ground hard with his right fist several times.
Humonus let go only a second later, and Baltor stood back to his feet and faced the troops. Humonus had followed suit, after he had picked up the megaphone and put it near his mouth.
Meanwhile, just about all of the troops, even the experienced ones, except for the thieves, gasped in shock at seeing this amazing spectacle—not so much because their Ruling-General had just body-slammed their Sultan, but because they had never seen anyone do martial arts … ever!
Humonus explained, “What I have just performed is a defensive technique that automatically turns into an offensive technique…
“It matters not your strength, but only the speed and skill to know how to throw around the weight of your opponent! Now try it on your opponent and vice-versa…you have one minute to practice.”
After everyone, except for he and Baltor, had attempted the maneuver for the next minute, only a few hundred succeeding in the process, Humonus soothed, “Don’t worry if you failed just now…you will get a five minute-long practice in just a minute. But listen up and closely for now, this same exact technique can be used even if your opponent should happen to possess a dagger or sword…that is, if you can get close enough and grab the wrist just before the moment of strike! Very, very important combat technique, just remember that…”
At this point, Humonus took an elongated pause in order to take in a deep breath, release it, and suck in another deep breath. While breathing out, he concluded, “One last thing—during your practice sessions, we will allow you to ask each other questions and-or share information, but only about the specific technique we’re covering. Do you understand, Forces of the Sharia Empire?”
“Yes, sir!” was the highly motivated cry from the troops.
“Practice.”
For the next five minutes, they practiced, but only about five hundred people could get it right by the end of that five-minute period.
Finally, after having picked up a wood training sword near the small stack of other training weapons, Humonus yelled out through the megaphone, “Attention!”
The trumpeters blew out a two-toned sound.
Except for the troops already standing on their feet, the rest joined in. They immediately clicked their heels together, put their hands at his or her side and silenced up.
“At ease,” Humonus called out.
The troops clasped their hands behind their backs, spread their legs out a bit until they were comfortable, but still, they did not talk.
Humonus turned back to Baltor, set down the megaphone, picked up the wood sword and handed it over to Baltor, and asked loudly, “My Sultan, will you follow the same path as your previous punch, but…take a very, very slow swing at me?”
Baltor nodded, drew back his sword, and took a very slow swing at Humonus.
This time, as Humonus just-as-slowly demonstrated this disarming technique, he also explained how to make it work as loud as he possibly could.
By the end of this particular demonstration, which took a little more than two minutes, Baltor was disarmed of weapon and once again twisted up like a pretzel, slapping the ground with hand.
After both men were facing the troops, Humonus picked up the megaphone, put it to his mouth, and ordered, “For the next five minutes, practice this technique with a completely different partner.”
The troops called out, “Yes sir!” They then found another partner to practice with.
The two men watched from on top of the platform for the next five minutes. Once that time was up, Humonus yelled through the megaphone, “Attention!”
The trumpeters blew out the two-tone sound, and the troops went back to the position of attention.
Humonus continued, “The next maneuver we will learn is…”
It wasn’t until four in the morning that the exhausted troops were finally dismissed and allowed to get rest—after having been taught a dozen techniques—and most being so exhausted that they couldn’t even remember a single one!
The next night, Baltor and Humonus had yet another training session with the troops, but this time it began at eleven.
This night, just like the night before, they trained exceedingly hard (stretching exercises, workout exercises, obstacle-course exercises and reiterating the combat-technique exercises they had learned the night before) with the utterly exhausted troops until six in the morning, when they were dismissed to eat and sleep ... they were also given that night off.
As had already become a custom for many years, they—Baltor, Brishava, Chelsea and Humonus—all shared dinner together that night.
It was during the course of this particular dinner that Brishava and Chelsea both volunteered their services in assisting with the training of the troops during the daylight hours whenever Baltor was asleep—after all, they too had mastered the martial arts fighting style back in Chao-chu-sha-maen.
So, for the next five weeks, training occurred at all different hours an
d with varying lengths of sessions—sometimes as short as three hours, and sometimes as long as twelve.
During these five weeks, the four grew exceedingly proud at the rapid advancements that their seventy-nine thousand and three troops made, and the troops quickly grew just as proud of all their leaders!
CHAPTER V
Finally, the evening came when Baltor awoke to see Humonus standing near his bed with “a distant look,” his eyes gazing deeply into the pool in the middle of the room—he sat up in bed and looked over.
Humonus heard the sound, and so he looked over and reported, “My Sultan, late this afternoon, our scouts reported that Emperor Vaspan’s army has begun to set up camp about three miles away from the city!”
After a nod, Baltor replied, “Excellent…then that means they will be expecting to get some rest tonight after a long day of traveling, which they will not get, for we attack tonight. Line up the troops in formation immediately outside the city, Ruling-General Humonus.”
“Yes, my Sultan!”
After Humonus had left the room, Baltor got out of bed, took a five-minute bath in the pool, dried off with a towel, put on his drawers, walked over to the large mirror, and called out, “Assistants.”
Only a second later, the assistants entered, once again pushing a closet-on-wheels. After arriving and bowing, they opened the closet doors, revealing a prototype battle-armored suit neatly hanging on hangers—the very first ever completed but a week ago.
This suit had two different layers, actually. The inner layer consisted of a quarter-inch thick padded hat, shirt, pants and socks that allowed him one hundred percent flexibility, and even better, it was one hundred percent impenetrable from the sun’s rays when he pulled the hat all the way down below his neck!
The outer layer consisted of a thin spandex-like suit that covered over the inner layer and contained loosened latches, which latches were attached to pre-molded/waterproofed steel plates that were a half-inch thick. There were plates for the inside and the outside of the forearms, the outside of the upper arms, chest, shoulders, back, thighs, and even the kneecaps.
BOOK II OF III: The Reign of the Sultan Page 7
