Most surprising to Thorn, he listened as Praetor happily made chirping noises while being groomed, sounding just like a baby bird.
Perhaps a minute later after the grooming had begun, Thorn remembered that he had a few more missions to accomplish with the troops before his shift was over, and so he said, “Well, Traes. I must be off. I promise that the very second the Sultan wakes up, I shall have him straight here.”
“Thank you, general,” Traes said with a respectful nod, while continuing to groom the hawk.
Once the sun had set below the western horizon, only hour later, Baltor awoke, took off the hood protecting his face, and got out of his bunk.
At that moment, he saw Thorn entering the back of the wagon.
Upon seeing that Baltor was up, Thorn reported with excitement, “My Sultan, there is a messenger, named Traes, who has arrived from Pavelus!”
“Excellent,” Baltor replied enthusiastically as he rose out of bed and stood onto his feet.
“Wait until you see what the messenger arrived on, my Sultan,” Thorn added. “Then you’ll really be saying excellent!”
Curious, Baltor asked, “What do you mean?”
“Well, instead of me explaining to you what I mean, my Sultan, I feel it’d be best if you get dressed immediately, so that I can escort you to the messenger and is unique mode of transportation,” Thorn replied. “I will ensure that your servants make your bath for you in one hour.”
“Very well…”
Once Baltor had quickly changed into some casual attire, twenty seconds later, he followed Thorn to the command tent.
After rounding the last corner on the far side of the tent, Baltor’s mouth immediately dropped open in awe upon seeing Praetor, who was perched on the ground nearby.
Even though the hawk was blindfolded, his head still turned toward Baltor’s direction as soon as he had rounded the corner.
Thorn called out, “Traes, this is the Sultan.”
Traes turned his head to look at Baltor for a moment. He then turned back his head, walked over to the saddle, extracted a scroll case, walked over to Baltor, bowed, and said, “My Sultan, I bear a message from Sultaness Brishava Elysian. The message can be found within this here scroll case.”
“Very well.”
Traes handed over the scroll case.
The first thing that Baltor’s nostrils noticed upon opening the scroll case was the smell of the spicy perfume Brishava had acquired in Valakan, perfume that he really loved whenever she donned it—he immediately knew that this letter came from his wife, before even having pulled out the scroll. After extracting the scroll and breaking the wax seal, he began to read the letter.
While his eyes and mind read, he clearly heard an unrecognizable man’s voice say, “I cannot see you, my master, but I can feel your presence…”
Baltor looked up from the letter, and asked, “What?”
Both Traes and Thorn looked at Baltor in total confusion for a moment, and in the next moment, the two looked at each other with that same confusion.
Thorn looked back over, and with a strange tone in his voice, he said, “You were the last to speak, my Sultan!”
For a moment, Baltor’s right eyebrow raised a few fractions—in the next that face instantly cleared. Just as his eyes gazed back down at the paper so that he could continue to read, he said, “Oh…my mistake.”
A few seconds later, he was again interrupted in his letter reading, as he clearly heard that same masculine voice say, which voice was actually inside his head, Even though my birth name is Olifax, my master, it seems that I have recently been given a new name. Actually, I like the name that the pretty lady gave to me much better—my new name is Praetor. What is your name, my master? What do you look like?
After Baltor had looked up at the hawk, he said in his head, My name is Baltor Elysian. Why do you want to know what I look like?
Praetor answered, Why wouldn’t I want to know what my master looks like—my master?
Baltor heard another voice ask, “So, did you finish reading your letter…and if so, what are your initial thoughts, my Sultan?”
He looked over, and saw that the man who had spoken was the messenger. Strangely enough, he had already forgotten this man’s name.
A moment-or-so later, Baltor’s memory flashed on what it was, and so he answered, “No, Traes. I haven’t reading it yet, but it’s because I am just that amazed at this absolutely awesome hawk! He’s beautiful!”
Traes replied, “Please, my Sultan, finish reading your letter.”
Baltor finished reading the letter, looked up, and then said, “Wow—cool!”
“Yes, my Sultan, he’s yours. Gifts from King Amnion and Queen Tessa, as am I,” Traes said.
“May I please see his eyes?” Baltor asked.
“Of course, my Sultan, but I will need to hold onto his reins first, so that he doesn’t decide to fly away,” Traes answered.
“Trust me,” Baltor countered with a nonchalant wave to his hand, “that won’t happen.”
“If you insist, but please don’t hold it against me if he does take off, okay?” Traes asked.
Baltor confidently answered, “No problem.”
Traes first undid the straps, and then removed the cap covering the hawk’s head.
Baltor and the hawk’s eyes gazed at each other for a few minutes, but the hawk never did try to take off, which amazed the heck out of Traes!
Baltor’s mind heard Praetor’s voice say, It truly shall be an honor to serve you, my master—Sultan Baltor Elysian.
But a moment later, Baltor’s physical ears heard Traes ask, “So, are you ready to learn how to fly this hawk, my Sultan? There’s a lot for you to learn about Praetor.”
“Yes I am, and yes there certainly is,” Baltor said with a very appreciative smile.
Not even one minute later, thanks to Traes’s expert-yet-quick tutorials, Baltor was already a master at steering Praetor, even without using the reins at all, which utterly astounded Traes and everyone else! After all, they didn’t know about the telepathic-link between hawk and master.
As for the troops, by the order of Han, they had just begun to either unset camp or make hot chow...
The following hour, while sitting in the saddle of Praetor in front of all the assembled troops, Baltor called out through his megaphone, “Forces of the Sharia Empire, tonight is the night we make our attack on the city of Scarthan and destroy the gnomes occupying it!”
“Huuuah,” came the emphatic response from the troops.
“No matter their numbers, and no matter whether the cowardly dragon decides to show up, which she probably won’t, we will all fight our best until the moment death should overtake us…for beyond death is Elysium!”
“Huuuah!!!”
“Fortunately for us, Forces, we now have an incredible advantage that we didn’t have before today—that advantage is this hawk that I now sit upon. Therefore, my brand-new battle plan is for our Forces to spread our ranks out and surround the entire city!
“Once this is so, I will fly over the city, drop acid bombs over the largest congregations of the enemy, and then wave a lit torch. Wherever I am waving my torch in the air, this is the area that the assault team will go, fight quickly, and then retreat back out of the city before the enemy can regroup.”
After taking a deep breath through his mouth, Baltor continued, “As we have discovered before, there is the possibility that the enemy shall be using optical illusions, whether they be dark clouds or actual images. Nevertheless, you must all trust in my intuition as it continuously guides me, as you must trust in yours! Do you all understand, Forces?”
The troops boomed out, “Yes, my Sultan!”
Baltor set the megaphone down in the saddlebag, before unsheathing both swords in one movement. As he held them crossed over his head, he yelled out, “For the Sharia Empire!”
The troops boomed out, “For the Sharia Empire!”
This time, Baltor yelled at the top
of his lungs, “For the Sharia Empire!!”
The troops boomed out even louder, “For the Sharia Empire!!!”
After sheathing back his swords, Baltor continued to yell, “I have one last important thing to mention before we execute—Major-General Thorn is hereby given a field promotion to Commanding-General!”
A strong look of pride crossed Thorn’s face upon hearing this most surprising news about the promotion.
Speaking at a normal tone of voice, Baltor ordered, “Commanding-General Thorn, order the troops to march to Scarthan. Once there, Commanding-General Petrol shall lead the assault team. You will be in charge of the defensive team that surrounds the city—ensure that no dark gnomes escape from any direction. Are my orders clearly understood?”
“Yes, my Sultan,” both Thorn and Petrol snapped aloud, while throwing a sharp salute. Once the salutes were returned and dropped, Thorn ordered the troops, “Forward march!”
The army marched.
About two in the morning, the army finally arrived a quarter of a mile away from the ruined city of Scarthan.
Even though there wasn’t a single manmade light at all in the entire city, everyone could clearly see the ruins of what this once-beautiful city had been. After all, both moons were nearly full in the night sky, which actually gave off an incredible amount of light!
After Thorn had ordered all the defensive forces to surround the entire city, and they had done so, Baltor then ascended his hawk to about two hundred and fifty feet altitude, which was just out of range from the most powerful of gnome archers, and then flew over the city itself.
Meanwhile, he keenly scanned for the largest congregations of dark gnomes, and once discovered, he would drop an acid bomb down into the congregation, which caused around eighty-or-so fatalities and wounded dozens upon dozens more. Once dropped, he would wave the lit torch in his free hand.
Thus, the assault forces guided by Han knew exactly where to charge into the city, attack the disorganized gnomes, and then charge back out of the city before the dark gnomes could regroup or outflank!
For the next two days and nights, non-stop, Baltor’s army valiantly fought this way against one hundred fifty-two thousand, one hundred fifty-four dark gnomes at Scarthan—never was there a single sign of the black dragon! Because this battle was fought non-stop, Baltor ordered his forces to fight for twelve hours, sleep for six hours, and then fight for the next twelve hours.
On the third day of fierce combat, the Vispano Forces arrived—fifty thousand infantry soldiers, fifteen thousand archers, and thirty thousand knights.
With these additional forces, Baltor and his army quickly decimated the gnome army, especially through the continuous volleys of arrows shot through the day and night into the city!
Two nights later, once the last gnome was dead, Petrol delivered the report to Baltor that he had lost eighteen thousand, one hundred fifty-two men and women upon the battlefield … and that very few of the dark gnomes had escaped.
The following night after the victory at Scarthan, Baltor’s army of one hundred forty-six thousand, eight hundred forty-nine troops began to march southeast toward the Galgaa Jungles, but per the report by Travail, they wouldn’t arrive there for at least two months.
While Baltor slept the following day, he had a very disturbing dream, and though he could not recall most of the details, he did see Humonus and some other man riding on a giant hawk, all engaged in a ferocious battle with the black dragon! And that somehow, Humonus had gotten mortally hurt, but Baltor could not remember how or if he had survived!
For this reason alone, Baltor’s first order upon awakening was for Thorn to locate Traes and tell him to prepare the hawk for departure as soon as possible, and once ready, have Traes land outside the command tent. The second order was to have the troops assembled in formation, and ready to go, in thirty minutes.
Thorn saluted, before leaving to carry out the orders.
Twenty minutes later, Praetor was perched outside the command tent—with Traes standing on the ground and holding the reins. Already had quite a few of the soldiers gathered, and many more were on the way.
Baltor used this time to gingerly place the last two cloth-and-box wrapped “acid bombs” into Praetor’s saddlebags, one in the left and the other in the right. No one got in his way.
Once done with that cautious task, nearly five minutes later, he began to lovingly stroke his hawk’s face while staring eye to eye the whole time, and smile. Praetor definitely appreciated the attention he got from his master. Meanwhile, Traes had already strapped himself into the back of the saddle, which saddle also had three small pigeon cages strapped onto it, and patiently waited.
Precisely five minutes later, Baltor sensed that the time had come for formation, so he stopped petting and talking to his animal. He next looked over and confirmed that his Forces were now assembled and in the position of attention. Travail, Han, Petrol, and Thorn stood in the front of the ranks—each before his own division of soldiers.
After climbing into the saddle and buckling himself in, Baltor picked up the megaphone and called out, “Forces….I must leave you all at this time, as I shall be exploring the road ahead and get to the war against the gnomes and the dragon even sooner…the sooner, the better.”
After taking a very deep breath through his nose, he added, “If I see-or-learn about any threats coming your way of any kind, I shall send word via one of the pigeons…
“Until I return, which I will, listen and obey the orders of your superior officers, who are speaking on my behalf. Senior-Commanding-Knight Travail, as well my Commanding-Generals Travail, Han, and Thorn—you know all my other important orders from our last commanders’ meeting, and you are now in charge…
“Finally, for all that you do, no matter whether general or private, do it for honor…do it for glory… Do you understand, Forces of the Sharia Empire?”
The forces boomed out, “Yes, my Sultan!!!”
“Good…carry on.”
With that, Baltor launched Praetor high into the skies, just before flying southeast at top speed.
CHAPTER XVII
In the middle of the Galgaa Jungle—
three days and one hour later…
Cheo, Humonus, Yaush, Salami, Stormea, and Ray all ate dinner in silence and exhaustion, while sitting around a large rectangular table set up in the command tent, which dinner consisted of a small portion of dried jerky and a quarter mug of water. All the while, the rest of the army, as well the giants, continued to set up the rest of camp or the temporary stables—they had already eaten.
Once Cheo saw everyone was done eating, only a few minutes later, he stood up out of his seat, and then began the commanders’ briefing by signing, “Gentlemen, just so you all are aware, I know exactly where we are, even without a map or having rode the hawk today, as it was Ruling-General Humonus’s turn…
“Currently, we are camped sixty-six miles due west of my village, once proudly known by my citizens as Chao-chu-sha-maen—it should be only about a day-or-two until we arrive, depending upon our speed. Really, that is all I have to say right now,’ Cheo signed before he sat down.
As always, Humonus verbally translated all that Cheo signed.
Salami, in turn, interpreted to Yaush. In turn, Yaush nodded.
Following the nod, Humonus stood up out of his seat as he declared, “Thank you, King Cheo. Now, before I say what I have to say, I first need to know—how are the morale and the stamina of the troops, Commanding-General Stormea?”
Salami interpreted.
Stormea stood up and replied, “Sirs, for the most part, the morale and stamina surprisingly aren’t all that low—there are the occasional negative complaints that the troops make to my commanders, who in turn report everything to me. I have personally talked to any of those who expressed complaints, and attempted to boost their morale. For the most part, my strategies have worked.”
He purposefully gave a lengthy pause. Meanwhile, Salami interp
reted to Yaush, not only through this pause, but also through every pause.
Once Stormea saw that Salami was done, he then continued, “One of the most common complaints from the troops is the fact that our water and food supplies have been strictly rationed, and that they are still hungry, or thirsty, after having consumed their rations…
“The troops are quite aware, or made to be aware, of the important reasons, sirs, for the rationing—one, we’ve received no new supply wagons carrying food and water supplies for nearly two months…
“Two, we haven’t received a single drop of rain since we entered the Galgaa Jungle a month ago, not even enough morning’s dew to collect from the leaves. Which leads to three, your direct order not to refill canteens or water bags at any of the lagoons or small streams we’ve passed, as they’ve probably been poisoned by the gnomes…
“Most of the other complaints relate to the harsh jungle conditions we’ve been enduring rather well—the non-stop hot and sticky weather, the dense vegetation and trees that oftentimes become very difficult to traverse, especially for those soldiers driving horse-drawn wagons or chariots…
“Oh, and of course they complain about all the leeches, snakes, ants, and all the other sighted predatory jungle animals—you get the picture…”
After clearing his throat, Stormea concluded, “Again, sirs, I’d like to reiterate that, for the most part, the morale and the stamina of the troops isn’t bad.” He sat back down in his seat.
While Salami interpreted, Humonus waited until done. Once so, he stood up, looked over at Stormea and said, “Thank you for your report, Commanding-General Stormea. I know all-too-well that this is a very tedious war we’re waging. We’re all hungry. We’re all thirsty. We’re all tired. We’re all homesick. We need to stay strong and focused…”
Salami interpreted.
Casting his gaze over at Ray, Humonus next said, “Major-General Ray, for your information, as you were asleep all day long, there hasn’t been any sighting of the gnome army on this day—by the advanced scouts, or by myself scouting around on the hawk. Just because we’ve only had one encounter with the enemy, this does not mean that a major battle can’t erupt at any moment, so ensure the troops remain on yellow alert!”
BOOK II OF III: The Reign of the Sultan Page 26
