BOOK II OF III: The Reign of the Sultan (3 page)

Neither city used conventional stone
fortifications, yet instead a vast labyrinth that consisted of
thirty-foot-cubed blocks of stone on wheels stacked together into a
hugely elaborate maze that surrounded and protected the cities.

Vaspan had personally designed this type of
defense—the labyrinth—for two reasons.

One, the always-ready-to-be-sprung traps
contained within, as well as the tons of posted guards who directly
guided only those travelers and merchants who displayed the proper
paperwork, allowed but one safe route that changed each and every
day. This proved to be “exceptionally deadly”, especially against
large and organized armies.

And reason number two—the inner and outer
borders could easily be expanded outwards to suit the needs of the
ever-growing city.

Throughout all the surrounding lands, both
ally and enemy, most of the people considered Vaspan to not only be
the greatest leader, yet the greatest weapons’ master to have ever
lived! Only a few called him “terrible,” but he didn’t care.

Vaspan confidently believed nowadays, thanks
to his martial arts skills, that he could easily take out his
brother, and even his long-deceased father—even when they had both
been in their prime.

Now that Vaspan’s elder brother was finally
dead (per the dream he trusted for a particular reason that shall
soon be explained), he believed without doubt that he was the
next-in-line to inherit the throne, and certainly not his much
younger and inexperienced niece, Brishava, of whom he had met only
once in his life. She too had been in his dream.

She was fifteen years old at the time when
they met. That is, after she had secretly changed into peasant’s
attire, escaped out the secret route of the palace, hid in the back
of a wagon departing for the docks, hid in the bowels of a neutral
ship that sailed for Mauritia, and stole food and water along the
way late at night. It wasn’t until the ship reached the first
checkpoint in the river that led up to Mauritia that she first
became discovered by one of Mauritia’s border-patrol ships.

Upon the leader of the guards questioning
her, of whom all had their swords drawn and ready to kill, the
dust-covered girl revealed her “true identity” and that she
desperately needed to see her “Uncle Vaspan.”

Though the lieutenant-in-charge immediately
made the call for the guards to sheath their weapons, as she wasn’t
a threat, he still didn’t believe a word of her story that she was
the
Princess Brishava Helenus.

Whether a princess or not, the lieutenant
realized that Vaspan would be most-pleased upon seeing this
“extremely beautiful prize,” and so he personally escorted the
young woman to his ruler, after of course, they had gone through
all the rest of the checkpoints.

Immediately upon their arrival in the
palace’s throne room, Vaspan was in both shock and joy to see his
niece, of whom he instantly recognized because of the perfect
similarities from the portraits he had seen of his mother.

Through the night they talked, especially
about the reason she had run away in the first place, yet by
morning, they mutually agreed that it would be best if she returned
back to Pavelus, so that her father—the Sultan—wouldn’t accuse
Vaspan of kidnapping his princess.

The very next day, after breakfast and the
farewells, she was on one of his fastest frigates, escorted by a
company-sized element of his elite guards.

Of course, Brishavus didn’t even give so much
as a “thank you” in response upon delivery of his daughter, but a
written letter that said:

‘
So, my rebellious little brother, you’re
willing to give me back my daughter—are you also willing to give me
back all you have stolen from me? If you do, we can have peace once
again, and you will rule next upon my natural death. Sultan
Brishavus Helenus of the Sharia Empire
.’

Even though Vaspan flew into “a rage beyond
rages” upon reading the message, not only throwing the letter into
the burning fireplace, yet throwing expensive objects around and
breaking them, he delivered back no response.

This is why—in the present—it both surprised
and annoyed him that his dream last night had not only revealed his
brother’s death and murderer, yet that his very niece had taken the
mantles of the Sharia Empire without first consulting him!

After pondering her current welfare, Vaspan
said aloud to himself, “Soon enough...once the name, wealth, and
the lands of the Sharia Empire become acquired, one way or the
other, everything will fall under the banners of the Vaspan
Empire…

“If things get acquired in a positive and
peaceful way, I will allow Brishava to rule next, instead my
firstborn son. However, if she forces us to take the other route, I
will be forced to use my secondary plan in acquiring the Sharia
Empire—war!”

Nearly five seconds after he had finished
with his vocal statements, the guards unexpectedly opened the
double doors, which once again shown light onto his face.

A moment later, a middle-aged man who donned
a green ruling-general’s uniform entered the room. He had a shaved
head, thin black eyebrows, a clean-shaven face, and of course, he
was built like a tank.

Five feet from his liege’s bed, he stopped in
his tracks, snapped a sharp salute and asked, “Yes Emperor-Sedious
Vaspan, how may I serve you?”

Even though the light from the hallway
continued to remain shining on Vaspan, he lightly returned the
salute for a second before saying, “Ruling-General Thorn, it seems
that my brother has died, which should make me the next Sultan,
but—”

“But, Sire,” Thorn interrupted incredulously,
“how can you know this? Our spies have reported no such word!”

Though Vaspan cast a very sharp look at the
recently-promoted commanding officer of both his army and navy
(because Flak had retired of old age about a year earlier), he
answered, “I know it from the dream I just had! Actually this is
the second time I’ve had the same dream…”

Thorn looked thoroughly confused.

Vaspan explained a few moments later, “The
first time I had it, I was a very young boy, but as I didn’t
recognize any of the people in it back then, I soon forgot about
the dream altogether… That is, until tonight’s dream—now I do
recognize a few of those characters, including my brother who was
murdered, which confirms to me that the time has come to inherit my
throne!”

With ever-growing excitement, Thorn added,
“Then the Sharia Empire is already yours to command, my
Emperor!”

“Yes…and no,” Vaspan countered neutrally.

Thorn asked in total confusion, “What do you
mean?”

Vaspan explained, “Let me tell you the whole
of my dream…in it, my niece had returned to Pavelus with a man whom
I believe to be her boyfriend or husband because of the way they
kept fondly looking at each other.

“For some unknown reason, she not only
assassinated my brother, yet managed to keep his assassination
secret. Somehow she and this man have managed to dupe not only the
guards, yet the citizens of Pavelus into believing that they are
the next rulers, and not I!”

After taking a deep breath, he added, “The
only thing that remains uncertain is whether they have managed to
sway the nobles to assist against our impeding attack, as was
obvious by all the nobles’ very-uncertain faces…”

For a reason known only to him, Vaspan
immediately cast his gaze down to the black, red, and
gold-checkered floor tiles, which colors represented the Vaspan
Empire.

About thirty seconds later, even though he
continued to look at the floor, Vaspan concluded, “No matter
whether my niece accepts this trivial fact or not, I am the
next-in-line to rule! We shall sweep out and annihilate all who
oppose my absolute rule as the Sultan over both Empires…”

“Of course, your Majesty,” Thorn replied. “My
Liege, may I be allowed to ask two questions?”

Without looking away from the floor, Vaspan
nodded his head.

Thorn asked, “First question—in your dream,
or should I say dreams, did you happen to hear the name of
Brishava’s husband? It seems obvious, your Highness, that you must
not know who he is, or you would have already identified him by
name to me...”

Vaspan looked directly into his general’s
eyes, before answering, “The only thing that I know about this man
is that there is something about him I really hate! But no, I don’t
know his name or who he is—why?”

“So that I could send out spies to accumulate
more information about this man, specifically his strengths and
weaknesses,” Thorn answered.

A few moments later, Vaspan answered,
“Actually, in both dreams, I saw only fleeting images, yet heard
not a single sound throughout.”

“I see,” Thorn said thoughtfully. “Second
question, Sire. Do you think it possible that the princess is only
a love-sick pawn in this man’s game to become a Sultan, and that
perhaps she may become murdered when he considers her usefulness
complete?”

Both a shocked and horrified look crossed
Vaspan’s face, only moments before he glanced outside his balcony,
which now revealed the early morning sky that was only moments away
from sunrise. Finally, he growled, “Quite possible…”

Thorn asked, “Based off your answers to my
two questions, a third question springs forth, if I may, your
Highness?”

After Vaspan’s curious gaze fell to Thorn, he
nodded his head affirmatively one time.

Thorn asked, “Would it then not be best to
deploy immediately to Pavelus, and show them through our strength
of numbers who really should rule both Empires? After all, the
final two mercenary divisions arrived but last night.”

Vaspan cocked his head to the side just
before he said, “Perhaps—by the way, how many numbers have we
accumulated to date?”

“My Emperor, it is good that you should ask
this question. In one hour, I feel it would be better to answer
your question; that is, after you have inspected the troops
currently waiting outside the labyrinth. After, of course, you have
been properly bathed, groomed, eaten, armored, and finally armed
for war, my Sultan Vaspan!”

Vaspan nodded one time, while also being
keenly aware that this was the very first time Thorn had ever
called him “Sultan.”

In the very next second, Vaspan decided that
he really liked the sound of that title, as well all his other
lordly titles, just before he shifted over to the side of the bed,
and rose to his feet.

Meanwhile, Thorn snapped his fingers—two
scantily-clad-and-very-beautiful female servants, each carrying a
torch, entered the room through the still-open doors. It was then
that he headed for the room’s exit, so that he could wait out in
the hallway.

Once the girls had finished lighting all of
the bronze cauldrons inside the bedroom, perhaps a minute later,
Vaspan allowed them to lead him by the hand into the large pool in
the room’s center.

And once inside the pool, the girls undressed
and bathed him. After this task was complete, they escorted him out
of the pool, towel-dried and groomed him. They next began to dress
him in his undergarments and then it was his black, red and
gold-colored plate mail armor. Once done with that, they finally
armed him with his sheathed two-handed sword, by strapping the
white sheath onto his back.

Nearly thirty minutes later, the girls were
done with their tasks.

Right away, Vaspan exited the room, and he
and Thorn proceeded down the hallway until they entered the royal
dining hall, where servants brought in breakfast, and they ate in
silence.

After breakfast was over, perhaps twenty
minutes after it had begun, Vaspan first nodded to the commander of
his forces, and then he commanded, “Let’s go, Ruling-General
Thorn.”

With a sharp salute, Thorn snapped, “Yes, my
Sultan-Sedious!”

After the two made their way out of the
city’s labyrinth on horseback, forty minutes later, Vaspan began to
look very, very, very pleased at see what lay before him, literally
spanning across an entire horizon.

For, armed and armored, hundreds of thousands
of troops stood and waited in formation, ranging from infantry, to
cavalry and artillery! Spread throughout the ranks, there were
thousands of chariots, catapults, and of course, supply wagons
carrying food and water. Most importantly to Vaspan, he saw
standing proudly in front of their horses—his five sons!

Thorn whispered in his lord's ear, “We have a
grand total of one hundred forty-one thousand twenty-five soldiers
in our ranks right now, my Sultan! Per your orders, twenty thousand
of these men will remain behind to protect Mauritia while the rest
of us deploy to Pavelus.”

“Really,” Vaspan said, sounding quite
pleased. After a curious look had grown upon his face, he then
asked, “How long will it take for us to reach Pavelus with this
size of an army?”

“My Sultan, believe it or not, it will only
take us between six and seven weeks.”

“Excellent!” Vaspan then asked, “Are we ready
to deploy now, or do we need more time to prepare?”

“No, my Sultan…we are ready now!”

Vaspan ordered, “Perfect job as always—bring
the army to the position of attention, my Ruling-General!”

Thorn boomed out at the top of his lungs,
“Attention!”

Even though ninety-nine percent of the troops
hadn’t heard Thorn relay this order, as they had been quietly
talking with one another, two of the trumpeters nearby did, and so
they began to blow out a two-tone tune that was the call for the
troops to assume the position of attention.

In unison the soldiers did, by placing their
feet into a forty-five degree position, slapping their weapon or
shield into their chest at the same time, and shouting in unison,
“
Hooooooooooooaaaaaaaahh
!”