BOOK II OF III: The Reign of the Sultan (12 page)

“Yes, Ruling-General Humonus!”

After snapping a salute to Humonus, a cavalry
soldier offered his horse to Mena—she took off with that great
haste toward Pavelus!

Baltor, who had been patiently waiting,
turned to look at the troops, lifted the megaphone up to his mouth,
and added , “The rest of you will be coming along to watch the
spectacle at the coliseum, first-hand. None is to interfere under
penalty of death by the faction that individual belongs, including
royalty—the same penalties apply for Emperor Vaspan’s army! Also,
during the course of our battle, if either he or I step outside the
perimeters of the circle without the other combatant unquestionably
dead, even once, that person is to die by the hands of both
armies—any questions?”

“No Sultan!” the troops snapped.

Through the megaphone, Baltor called out,
“Good—forces of the Sharia Empire, right face! Forward, march!”

Baltor led the way to the coliseum. Humonus,
Brishava, Chelsea and the guide-on bearer rode right behind. All
forty thousand troops marched in ranks, or rode upon their camels,
horses, or horse-drawn chariots behind them.

Perhaps a minute after they had left, Baltor
looked back over at Humonus and said, “Ruling General, one more
thing. Only once Vaspan and his forces have begun entering the
coliseum, and there is no trickery from his part, send a messenger
out to retrieve my Shadow Forces and have them come to the
coliseum. They may miss this fight, or they may not if Vaspan
proves to be just an underhanded trickster.”

“Yes, my Sultan,” Humonus replied.

About twenty minutes later, they arrived at
the gargantuan ovular coliseum. This building’s height was only
three hundred feet, yet the diameter was about five thousand feet
by ten thousand feet—only half of this building was complete. After
the majority of those who had horses and chariots parked them
outside the coliseum, they then walked inside.

Just like the exterior, the interior to the
coliseum was also only halfway complete—there were enough seats
created for both armies, and an additional fifty thousand people to
sit—but most wouldn’t want to sit for this event.

Five thousand of Baltor’s cavalry, as well
their general, eagerly waited on their horses in the middle of the
arena for the order to come out and attack.

But surprise didn’t hit those cavalrymen when
they saw who it was, as an advanced scout had already reported that
they had seen the flag of the Sharia Empire flying before the army
heading toward the coliseum.

Once inside the arena, Humonus ordered the
nearest of the troops who stood around in loose formation: “I need
volunteers to draw a very large circle in the center of the arena.
Make its diameter one hundred feet, which will give our two
combatants plenty of room. Also, place torches about ten feet away
from each other around the outside of the perimeter. Between each
of the torches, there is to be placed a different type of weapon,
or weapons—get creative…”

After sucking in a deep breath, he added, “As
for the rest of us, we will wait in loose formation until the other
army steps forth, but keep yourself armed at all times and keep
calm. Finally, do not attack unless it is by order of the Sultan,
himself…understand?”

The troops responded, “Yes Ruling-General
Humonus!”

Immediately a small group of these soldiers
elected themselves for the task of drawing the circle and putting
torches around it.

Just as they were finishing setting out the
last of the weapons, about fifteen minutes later, Baltor was the
first to hear the enemy forces drawing closer to their current
position, evident from the sounds of hundreds of thousands of
marching footsteps.

Ten minutes later, with Vaspan and his
entourage in the lead, the enemy army slowly-but-surely began to
enter the coliseum.

It was then that Humonus delivered the order
to send a messenger to retrieve the Shadow Forces. Nearly a half an
hour later, three-quarters of the entire coliseum was filled with
troops from both sides.

Humonus and Chelsea already sat in the royal
bleachers, and watched. Meanwhile, Baltor sat on his horse within
the perimeters of the torches that were now burning. Brishava stood
within the circle as well, but she was now looking out the
open-faced coliseum into the darkness of night. Dozens of stars
were twinkling, as neither of the two moons was visible in the
sky.

As Vaspan drew within the perimeters of the
torchlight, still riding on his horse, Baltor could see that his
soon-to-be combatant had a rather smug smile upon his face, as if
he had already won the duel—of course, his entourage continued to
ride on their horses behind him, also bearing smug smiles.

Seconds later, Baltor walked over to
Brishava, who was still obliviously staring at the stars facing the
opposite direction.

He next placed his hands on the top of her
shoulders standing right behind her, and whispered gently into her
ear, “My love of loves…the outcome of this battle has long ago been
determined—not by any human being, but by God…

“Even if I should die tonight by your uncle’s
hand, that does not mean I won’t be waiting for you on the other
side, waiting to take you into the eternal heavens with me.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, can stop me from doing that—I
swear!”

Brishava turned around, revealing tears that
had been steadfastly pouring down from her eyes. She whimpered, “I
just… I just can’t stand the thought of losing you,
Baltor….especially after all we’ve been through and overcome!”

He wrapped his arms tightly around her—not
only did she return that hug, yet she ensured that it became even
tighter by her own gripping arms.

While in that tight embrace, he whispered in
her ear, “If you think about all we’ve already overcome, then you
will realize that we’re already the victors, no matter the
outcome.”

A look of confusion suddenly drew upon
Brishava’s face. She pulled away from the embrace, and was about to
ask what Baltor had meant when he said, “no matter the outcome,”
but didn’t get the chance.

Vaspan had just broken up their intimate
moment, by jesting, “Well, peasant, have you said all your
farewells to my niece yet, or should we just wait until tomorrow
morning to do battle, so you can have a last one night stand before
you die like a slaughtered pig?”

At that, just about all of Vaspan’s troops
burst out into voracious laughter at “the joke!” Meanwhile, all of
Baltor’s troops took it both personally and offensively, as became
evident by the weapons firmly clinched in their hands coupled with
the furious anger reflected within their eyes—every last soldier
sitting down, in which there only a few, had risen to his or her
feet!

No matter how horrendous the odds were
stacked against them now, the Forces of the Sharia Empire fervently
listened, and the majority even hoped and prayed, for their Sultan
to voice the command, “Attack!”

After all, over the course of the last five
weeks since their training had begun, most had come to respect
Baltor as a “great man.” Many already loved him.

Even though anger and hurt were also two
emotions certainly running through Baltor’s mind, he didn’t let his
face betray anything but love for his wife as he gazed one more
time into her absolutely adorable face!

Cupping her face ever-so-lightly in both of
his hands, he whispered, “I love you, Brishava, my beautiful
wife…”

She, in turn, whispered back, “I love you, my
Baltor, my beautiful husband!”

Baltor kissed his wife’s lips and then her
forehead one final time before letting her go, turning around to
face his combatant, and replying quite seriously, “Let’s battle
now.”

The soldiers opened up a gap so that Brishava
could make her way to the staircase that led up to the royalty
section located within the stands, and watch. At the same time,
Vaspan stopped chuckling immediately upon hearing that order from
“the bratty kid,” which was only a single second before he climbed
off his horse and onto the ground.

After Vaspan had entered the circle at the
opposite side, he began expertly swinging his two-handed sword all
around using only one hand, while gazing at its quick and powerful
movements.

Meanwhile, Baltor drew both of his swords at
the same time, and waited perfectly still in the ready
position.

As for the two opposing armies, they
immediately closed all gaps surrounding the circle, which formed a
very solid wall—approximately one hundred and seventy-five thousand
soldiers there were, though not a single man or woman sat.

Meanwhile, Humonus, Brishava, and Chelsea
watched nervously on the royal bleachers—they were helpless to do
anything else but sit and watch.

A few seconds later, Vaspan stopped swinging
his sword around, and then he turned to face his opponent—all the
while, Baltor carefully watched his opponent’s every single
move.

Almost sounding polite, Vaspan asked, “Would
you like to make the first move, or should I?”

Instead of answering his question, Baltor
stated, “Sir, it doesn’t have to be this way, you know.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There is an even better way than me and you
battling to the death!”

“What other way is there?”

“The way of peace between our two lands,
perhaps even a reuniting? After all, you, Brishava and I are all
family, Uncle Vaspan, and there is a whole world for us to claim
and rule,” Baltor promised. “I also know that this would have
already been the case, had your brother shared his empire with you
long ago. Please let us end this family feud once and for all!”

For about thirty seconds, Vaspan actually
appeared to be considering Baltor’s words…

Until unexpectedly, Baltor observed a
mysterious phenomenon occur with his uncle-in-law’s eyes—they
magically glowed a blood-red color for a single second!

In the very next second, Vaspan roared like a
dragon, while swinging his sword aimed directly for his opponent’s
neck.

Not surprisingly, Baltor had already
somersaulted himself out of harm’s way, and after rolling twice
more in order to gain some extra distance, he asked with a whole
lot of concern, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Vaspan yelled, “quit asking me
your stupid questions, and let’s fight already, punk!”

Baltor’s eyes squinted in contemplation—he
did not suspect that his uncle was fine at all, especially during
that moment when his eyes literally flashed red.

Despite Vaspan’s command to fight, Baltor
pleaded, though not in any sort of weak or pitiful tone of voice,
“I do not want to fight you, uncle! Please, come back home with us
to Pavelus, where you will be recognized as the royalty that you
are!”

Vaspan snarled, “The reason I will win this
duel is not just because I am a better fighter, and not just
because I am the rightful Sultan, but it’s really because I
absolutely refuse to share my Empire with a pathetic peasant, thief
and punk like you!”

After a moment’s pause, he added, “As for
Brishava, she is both young and pretty—she, with my help, will find
her a new husband of noble blood, one who both she and I deem
worthy to rule after my time is complete! Probably Prince
Jumblee.”

Even though that last comment got Baltor’s
“blood boiling,” Vaspan was still the first to make the next
offensive strike, as he came rushing in with his two-handed sword
sticking out straight in front of him like it was a lance!

Baltor knew the time for talk had ended, and
even though he remained in the ready position without moving a
muscle, he was ready for his enemy to near.

A few seconds before Vaspan’s arrival, he
unexpectedly threw his body into a forwards somersault, and while
coming out of the roll, he angled out his sword so that it would
slice Baltor open from top to bottom!

Just in the nick of time, Baltor had already
rolled backward out of the dangerous sword’s reach—the sword
bounced harmlessly off the ground, making a loud clanging
noise!

As soon as Baltor had regained his standing
position, he saw that his opponent was already coming in with
another angled attack.

Using both swords just like lock picks,
Baltor not only barely deflected the angle of Vaspan’s sword, yet
tapped the side of that sword with both of his swords one extra
time!

Vaspan’s attack completely missed, his sword
flying wildly out of his hands and landing five feet away.

Without pause, Baltor flicked both of his
wrists up and out, in order to rip across his opponent’s abdominal
muscles times two, but Vaspan had performed his own backwards
somersault out of harm’s way!

Many in the crowd, from both sides, breathed
out, “Oooh…”

In that same moment, one combatant held a
look of astonishment, while the other surprise!

Baltor was quite astonished because Vaspan
utilized the same martial arts style as he. Vaspan, on the other
hand, was only momentarily surprised at the incredible fighting
ability this kid had—no one had ever disarmed him before, with the
exception of his older brother and father—no one!

Using Baltor’s astonishment to his advantage,
Vaspan hightailed his way to the edge of the circle, and while
staying within its perimeters the whole time, he surprisingly threw
himself into a sideways somersault while plucking three foot-long
daggers off the ground in the process—once acquired, he regained
his ready stance.

A second later, Vaspan laughed, “That was a
good move you had there, boy, but you haven’t seen anything
yet!”

He immediately began to expertly spin, twirl,
and even juggle those daggers around as if they were merely
children’s toys, and not lethal weapons!

After those daggers had begun to spin around
in a rapid circle right in front of his body, nearly ten seconds
after he had begun juggling, he not-too-surprisingly launched the
first, the second and the final dagger straight for Baltor! Already
he had begun to run for the next weapon…