BOOK II OF III: The Reign of the Sultan

by J. Eric Booker

  “I don’t know, but I hope that you’re—” Nova answered, just before her mouth cut itself off in mid-sentence as she clearly saw two giant hawks, each bearing two riders perched on the ground about forty feet away from the command tent.

  Because she had been told to expect at any time the arrival of one giant hawk but not two—she called out to the guards around her, “Surround them with weapons drawn!”

  Approximately two dozen guards that were in the immediate area did as ordered. Many more were on the way.

  Once both hawks had been surrounded, they observed that there was a “bandaged up” rider slumped forward in the rear saddle unconscious, which body looked shockingly like Humonus—even more shocking was that the front rider looked like Baltor!

  On the other hawk they saw and recognized Darius, but not the other man … nobody had tried to unbuckle their straps, yet.

  Nova called out, “Halt! Who goes there?”

  Baltor answered, “I’m your Sultan.”

  Just to be on the safe side, especially because of the optical illusions she remembered seeing before, she asked, “How do I know that you’re really the Sultan? How do I know that you all aren’t another ploy by the dark gnomes who are using an optical illusion to deceive our eyes, and then to attack us blindly and kill us all?”

  “Very good questions, captain. Though I know not your name.”

  “My name is Captain Nova.”

  “Nice to meet you, captain…yes, I am indeed Sultan Baltor Elysian the Fifteenth.”

  Two seconds later, Nova replied, “If you are the Sultan, then I sincerely apologize—okay? But, I do need to know for sure that you are who you say you are, first.”

  Baltor replied, “Even if I was to show you the insignia ring upon my left index finger, bearing the Symbol of the Sharia Empire, you would probably still suspect me as an optical illusion.”

  Just then, Ray silently arrived in the area, along with sixty more guards following right behind him! Strangely, however, Cheo had not woken up from the alarm.

  Ray, who had just stopped in his tracks, extended his left gloved fist up straight up into the air, which stopped the guards in their tracks, and then they began to listen, while also fully assessing this “most unexpected situation.”

  All the while, Baltor continued to say, “Even if I were to reveal both of my swords, which are currently located upon my back, and then crossing those swords high over my head, which is the very Symbol of the Sharia Empire, you just might still remain suspicious…right?”

  “Possibly,” Nova answered.

  “So what can I say or do to prove to you that I am who I say I am?” Baltor asked, revealing but a tiny fraction of the pain that he felt deep inside. “Would you like to feel the pain and grief that has torn my heart into pieces at the death of your Ruling General and my best friend this very night? If only I could show you my heart—then there’d no longer be the doubts or suspicions, would there?”

  During the course of Baltor’s last series of questions, Nova’s sword-bearing arm had dropped to her side.

  Once Baltor made a lengthy pause, Nova dropped onto her knees in the mud, bowed her head, and answered just above a whisper, “No, my Sultan. I am so sorry for doubting you… Please forgive me!”

  Ray was the next one to speak as he hesitantly asked, “My Sultan, what would you like to do regarding Captain Nova’s doubts and suspicions regarding your identity? Have her flogged?”

  “No,” Baltor replied evenly, “I want Captain Nova promoted to major, effective immediately. She did an outstanding job!”

  Immediately Nova’s eyes shot up with shock and disbelief!

  “Yes, my Sultan,” Ray responded. “Major Nova, command all the guards to return to their posts, and then take charge!”

  After rising back to her feet, and wiping off a bit of the mud that had accumulated on her knees, she said with a whole lot of pride in her voice, “Yes sir! Guards, make it so.”

  All the guards but Ray headed back to their posts. Meanwhile, he delivered his sharpest salute, stating, “Welcome, my Sultan...I am so sorry to hear about Ruling-General Humonus.”

  “Me too,” Baltor huffed out with a slightly crackling voice, as he quickly threw his gaze over at the safety straps holding him in place on the hawk, so that he could unbuckle them and keep his grieving emotions under control by thinking about something else. Darius and Traes followed suit by unbuckling theirs.

  Because Baltor was busy with this task, he was unaware of the fact that a single teardrop had just formed at the corner of Ray’s right eye. As soon as that teardrop had gotten large enough that it actually cascaded down his cheek, he quickly rubbed away the remnants of moisture with his right hand.

  Ray said with a whole lot of pride only a moment later, “Just like you, my Sultan, the Ruling-General Humonus will forever be remembered as an honorable warrior and leader!”

  More mournful emotions surfaced in Baltor’s mind, but there wasn’t a single bloody tear that formed. He couldn’t lose control of himself now, not in front of his men, even though it was hard … very, very, very hard!

  Once he had finally regained a mental control over himself, about ten seconds later, he cocked his head over to Humonus’s body behind him, and said, “Please, General Ray, ensure that King Cheo, Yaush, Salami, and all the rest of my forces become aware of my arrival, as soon as possible. Please, however, don’t tell them about the Ruling-General’s condition—leave that up to me. Understood?”

  Despite the fact that Ray had been field-promoted since they had left Pavelus, now bearing the rank of Major-General, his only empathetic response was, “Yes, my Sultan!”

  By this time, Darius and Traes now stood on their feet, each holding onto the reins of a hawk—Baltor climbed down to the ground, and began to unbuckle Humonus’s straps.

  All the while, Ray briskly walked over to the command tent, where two of the posted guards were stationed.

  He first looked to the male guard on the left and said, “Politely wake up Yaush and Salami, and have them come here on the double. Use finger pointing and frantic hand-waving gestures, as neither speak Pavelian.”

  That guard replied, “Yes, Major-General Ray!” He then departed to carry out his orders.

  To the female guard on the right, which he saw and recognized was Mena, and noticed that she had been crying, Ray said, “Retrieve Commanding-General Stormea and anyone else you see along the way, Sergeant Mena…please, say nothing about the Ruling-General’s condition to anybody.”

  “Yes, Major-General Ray,” she replied, just before she headed over to Stormea’s tent while wiping her tears away.

  Ray entered the command tent, walked over to Cheo’s sleeping position in bed, and lightly wiggled the man’s toes until he awoke, while calling out all the while, “King Cheo…Oh King Cheo…”

  Once he saw Cheo’s eyes open, he said, “Your Majesty…it is important that you come outside immediately—the Sultan has arrived!”

  He watched as Cheo excitedly hopped out of bed with an ear-to-ear smile on his face, threw on his pair of pants, and booked for the tent flaps at top speed without socks or shoes on!

  By the time Mena had arrived with Stormea, they saw that “the news” was rapidly spreading through the camp, as most of the troops were now coming out of their tents with just their trousers and boots on if they were male, or if they were female, shirts, trousers and boots.

  Most of the first arrivers observed that Humonus was the only man who had not gotten out of the saddle of his own willpower—and that Baltor now carried their ruling-general’s limp body in his arms, while standing in place.

  Twenty seconds later, Salami and Yaush had just squeezed their way to the inner circle, consisting of nearly ten thousand troops. Many more were on the way.

  The second Baltor saw Yaush and Salami enter the circle, he called out, “Forces of the Sharia Empire—today we have suffered an incredible loss!”

  Salami interpreted.

>   Baltor continued, “Humonus—my teacher, one of my best friends, and my Ruling-General—has sacrificed his life for us all while fighting valiantly against the dragon this very day, which dragon does in fact exist, let there be no doubt…

  “Not only just for the Sharia Empire did my brother sacrifice his life, but the entire world!”

  Salami interpreted.

  A few seconds after the interpretation was complete, Baltor continued, “When we finally face the dragon’s dark gnome army that not only outnumbers us astronomically, yet utilizes audio and visual hallucinations as one of their major weapons, as well weapons of magic, we must never forget Ruling-General Humonus’s most-honorable sacrifice. Do you all hear and understand me, Forces of the Sharia Empire?”

  With a single zealous voice that boomed out for miles, the troops answered in unison, “Yes, my Sultan!”

  Salami translated what Baltor had said to Yaush. In turn, Yaush nodded his head, while his eyes began to shed tears.

  Salami asked in Valakanese, “Why are you crying, Yaush?”

  “I am crying,” Yaush whispered back, “because I know that Baltor cannot!”

  Baltor had not heard Yaush’s words or he would have burst into tears himself yet again, which certainly wouldn’t have been a good thing.

  Because he had not heard it, he ordered aloud, “I need several of you soldiers that are skilled in making coffins to do so for your Ruling-General, immediately. We shall give him a funeral and bury him in front of his wife upon our return to Pavelus—with honor and glory! Also, from now on, we will use authentication passwords that will change daily.”

  “Yes, my Sultan!”

  Two soldiers carefully took Humonus’s body from Baltor’s hands, while several more volunteered to get the proper tools and supplies in order to make that coffin.

  While the making of the coffin was going on, the soldiers still around began to quietly mumble words to each other. Upon every last face was “an estranged look” ranging between shock, sadness, and grief!

  Stormea was the only individual who remained silent throughout, bearing his own total look of disbelief that his ruling-general was gone. Seconds later the soldiers began to mumble amongst one another.

  The second Baltor began to speak, everyone became silenced—he said, “Forces of the Sharia Empire, give me your attention now.”

  As everyone listened, Baltor crisply commanded, “Commanding-General Stormea—front and center!”

  Instantly Stormea ran over to his Sultan; and once there, he snapped to the position of attention while snapping a salute.

  Without delay, word, or emotion, Baltor drew his right sword with his left hand in one quick movement—in the next quick movement that sword lightly caressed the bottom-right-side of Stormea’s neck.

  Meanwhile, though Stormea moved not a single muscle, his mind had wondered if he had somehow accidentally ticked off his Sultan, and was about to have his head cut off in punishment without even having heard the crime—hey, he’d seen it happen quite a few times before!

  Instead of punishing however, Baltor commended, “Commanding-General Stormea, for your outstanding service and leadership skills, you are hereby field-promoted to the rank of Ruling-General. Do your best in everything that you do, for the glory of the Sharia Empire!”

  Instantly Baltor’s sword was back in its sheath—in turn, Stormea snapped the sharpest salute he had ever done before, while declaring, “Yes my Sultan!”

  The soldiers all around snapped their sharpest salutes out of respect for all their leaders … Baltor returned a crisp salute of his own.

  He did not release that salute, until after he had concluded, “Ruling-General, take charge with ensuring that we are ready for travel in the next hour. We ride to war! We ride to glory!”

  “Yes, my Sultan!” Stormea said before he dropped his salute. He then did an about face, and ordered, “You heard the Sultan—let’s begin by getting dressed, eating a quick breakfast, and then unsetting camp within the hour. Carry on.”

  “Yes, Ruling-General Stormea,” the troops boomed out, just before they began to fulfill their new ruling-general’s orders.

  “King Cheo,” Baltor said.

  Cheo signed, “Yes, my friend?”

  “I’m going to need you to scout out the best routes along with Darius during the day, and lead the army…and I shall do the same at night with Traes. Other than taking a break here and there, and of course breakfast, lunch, and dinner, we are going to continue until we arrive at our destination—day and night. Is that okay with you, my friend?”

  Cheo with a smile, answered, “Yes, Sultan Baltor, it is.”

  “Thank you, King Cheo.”

  “By the way, Humonus died bravely. I’m sure his spirit dwells in one of the seven Planes of Heaven! This morning’s most-colorful sunrise proved that to me.”

  “Me too…”

  Without delay, Cheo gave Baltor a really tight hug—again Baltor fought back his grief-stricken emotions, but this time it was a bit easier because he had his other best friend there for support…

  In an hour’s time, everyone proceeded eastbound. Cheo and Darius went to sleep in the back of a bunk wagon. Stormea led the procession. Traes rode on the female hawk, and Baltor rode on his hawk. The only other difference with this formation was that Yaush and the giants followed in between the assault and the support teams.

  Come morning, and during the next day, Baltor and Traes slept in the back of a bunk wagon, while Darius and Cheo scouted ahead. The army continued to ride southeast.

  Like always, Cheo was able to relay his navigational commands to the army by writing the directions in Pavelian and dropping the message to Stormea below—thanks to all of Humonus’s teaching Cheo how to read and write—and that is the route that the army went.

  The following night, Traes scouted ahead, while Baltor flew his hawk close to his army and assisted with navigating.

  The next morning, the army continued on like the day prior. Surprisingly, no one had ever gotten tired—most were still angry that Humonus was dead! The only person who slept was Baltor, who rode in the back of one of the bunk wagons.

  That evening, twenty minutes before a colorful sunset, Darius was scouting ahead, spotting something far ahead in the distance directly to the east, which vast area looked to be burnt-up tree stumps.

  After pulling out the scope and looking up, Darius’s right eye first observed a large field of brown mud that spanned five miles in length and forty miles in width—lying beyond this field was a sandy beach, filled with tens of millions of moving black ants!

  Having no doubt that these ants were dark gnomes, Darius immediately yanked hard the reins of his hawk until she face northwest. He estimated that the armies were only about an hour away from each other, being six miles apart!

  Fifteen minutes later, he saw Cheo flying just above the level of the trees, and once he had arrived, he signaled for the king to follow him down to Stormea’s position.

  Stormea, having seen the hawks coming, called out, “Forces—halt!”

  They did.

  The second they were perched on the ground, Darius briefed, “I spotted the dark gnome army six miles southeast from here at the beach, Ruling General.”

  Stormea asked, “What’s today’s password, Darius?”

  Darius answered, “Homlick, sir.”

  “Correct—good job, Darius. The Sultan has not yet awoken, but he should be up any minute now,” Stormea reported.

  Meanwhile, Cheo had been fervently writing something on a piece of parchment—upon completion, he handed it to Stormea.

  Stormea read, “I will report this good news of the dark gnome army to the Sultan myself—King Cheo.”

  “Yes, your Highness,” Stormea replied with a bow.

  While Darius and Cheo unbuckled their seat belts, Stormea turned around and called out, “Forces—strap on the plows to our chariots. Once done with this task, go ahead and take a thirty-minute break. Understood?”<
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  “Yes, Ruling-General,” the soldiers snapped.

  “Carry on.”

  Darius, in this same moment, had just taken the reins of Cheo’s hawk as well his own.

  As Cheo was one of the very few to know exactly which “top secret” bunk wagon Baltor slept in, he entered that wagon, closing the door behind him. True enough, Baltor was still soundly sleeping.

  About two minutes later and only a second after the sun had set, Cheo observed the man abruptly sit up in his bunk, just before he pulled off the hat and the visor.

  Upon seeing the peculiar expression upon Cheo’s face, Baltor’s eyes squinted slightly as he asked in the Chao-chu-sha-maen language, “So, my friend, evident by the expression on your face—the dark gnome army and the dragon has been spotted?”

  Cheo signed, “Yes, by Darius. He said he saw the gnomes on the beach, but not the dragon, but neither did he stick around.”

  Baltor asked two questions, back to back, “Where are they? Are they on the move toward us?”

  Cheo signed, “About six miles to our southeast, my friend… No, I don’t think they’re on the move, but I’m not for sure about that answer, either.”

  Just then, there was a knocking on the door—swords out and ready for combat, Baltor called out in Pavelian the new authentication code that begun after sunset, “Bolinsky!”

  On the other side, they heard the response, “Ale.”

  “Correct…enter,” Baltor replied as he set the swords onto his bed and rose to his feet.

  Entering one after the other was Stormea, Yaush, Salami, and Ray. Ray closed the door behind him, before walking over to his seat.

  Once everyone was seated, Baltor’s right eyebrow rose just before he said, “We can dispense with all the cordialities and get down to business. I think it’s only fair to assume that the dark gnome army has known all along where all our divisions of forces have been located all across the map, and that they wanted us to find them only now. Agreed?”

  Cheo cocked his head from side to side one time to indicate the affirmative, while Stormea and Ray immediately snapped, “Yes, my Sultan!”