BOOK II OF III: The Reign of the Sultan (34 page)

That is, until late in the afternoon, a
female officer entered the command tent, observed that Thorn was
the only one in here, stopped in front of the man, snapped a sharp
salute, and said, “Major-General Thorn.”

Thorn, who was currently sitting in a chair
next to a table that contained about a dozen maps, looked up. As he
recognized this particular soldier, he smiled as he returned the
salute and asked, “Yes, Lieutenant Macao?”

Macao continued to look straight ahead into
the air as she crisply reported, “General, there is a rider who
just arrived from Pavelus, sir. When I approached the man and his
unusual form of transportation, I asked him his business. He told
me that he has a message for Sultan Baltor Elysian, sir!”

Because he knew his Sultan was still sleeping
in one of the random bunk wagons, Thorn took matters into his own
hands. He asked with a humming tone of voice, “Unusual form of
transportation—what do you mean?”

Shaking her head slightly, Macao replied,
“Seeing it is believing it, sir…that’s all I’m going to say!”

“Interesting,” Thorn said, just before he
rose to his feet. “Lead the way, lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir!”

Macao led the way outside of the command
tent, and then toward the southern borders of the encampment, which
took of walking about ten minutes time.

Once there, Thorn’s feet stopped in is tracks
at the same time his mouth dropped open in shock, upon seeing a
giant hawk perched on the ground, about eighty feet to the south of
the last row of tents. He also saw that the rider was currently
strapping a cap over the hawk’s head and eyes, which Thorn knew as
a hawk-trainer himself that this measure prevented the hawk from
flying away.

Now standing to his right side, he heard
Macao say, “Well, sir, I would love to stay, but I’ve got quite a
few more important tasks that still need to get accomplished with
my platoon, so I will you see you later?”

Thorn looked over, nodded his head, and said,
“No problem, lieutenant.”

After throwing a sharp salute, Macao said,
“See you later, sir!”

Thorn returned the salute, just before he
recommenced to walk toward the rider and the hawk, all the while
with his mesmerized and enamored eyes staring at this “truly
magnificent beast”—he wanted one.

Fifteen feet away, he stopped in his tracks,
before greeting, “Greetings, good sir…my name is Major-General
Thorn. May I perchance help you with something?”

The rider looked over, cast a real friendly
smile, and answered, “No, thank you General…I bear a written
message strictly for Sultan Baltor Elysian’s eyes alone, written by
his wife, Sultaness Brishava.”

After casting his gaze over to the rider for
the very first time, Thorn answered, “The Sultan is currently
sleeping and won’t be up until sunset. I am the one in charge
during the daylight hours.”

Traes said with a nonchalant wave of his
hand, “Not a problem, general…we can wait. After all, I still need
to feed Praetor—a boy hawk. Not only does he take his sweet time
when it comes to hunting and eating dinner, yet he really, really
loves it when I give him a good grooming right after he eats, which
is an hour’s work for me! Makes him very happy…doesn’t it boy?”

He immediately began to pet the hawk’s flank
lovingly—in response, the hawk delivered a short piercing scream
into the air!

Traes chuckled for a few moments, before
saying, “That’s right…you are such a very good boy!”

While his left eyebrow rose on his face,
Thorn asked, “By the way, where’d you ever get a magnificent hawk
that size? How old is he? Does he have a name?”

After taking a deep breath, Traes stopped
petting the hawk and answered, “The Sultaness named him Praetor,
though for most of his life he went by the name of Olifax. Praetor
is two years old, and he is a gift from the king and queen of
Rolinsa…”

After a short pause, Thorn finally exhaled
with amazement, “Wow—he’s a beauty! I have four hawks myself, but I
have never seen a hawk with such beautiful feathers before!”

“Thanks,” Traes responded, while unlatching a
metallic cage with tiny holes from behind the hawk’s saddle,
obviously built to house an animal the size of a pig.

He next set that cage onto the ground, before
asking, “General, would you like to watch Praetor feed? I can
assure you that it’s an absolutely amazing sight to see!”

“Sure,” Thorn answered enthusiastically.

Traes smiled, and then he asked, “After I’ve
launched the bird, please don’t move until I tell you that it’s
okay to move, okay? We don’t want to distract Praetor from his
prey.”

“No problem…but what about the soldiers in
the camp?”

“Oh, they’re no problem. I’m going to send
this pig running the opposite direction.”

“Okay.”

After undoing the straps holding the cap on
the hawk’s head, and taking off the cap, Traes clapped his hands
three times with quick succession. With an incredible speed, the
hawk leapt into the air—within seconds, he was already hundreds of
feet up!

Once the hawk had ascended to about six
hundred feet up in the air, which made him look like a tiny speck
in the sky, he then began to circle around slowly in large
circles.

Traes slipped open a sliding door located in
front of the metallic cage—and out ran a fifty-pound pink pig,
squealing all the way! Quickly, that pig took off into the open
field.

About eight-or-so minutes later, Praetor’s
hawkish eyes finally spotted the pig running between two patches of
bushes—instantly he collapsed his wings, diving straight down
toward the pig on the ground!

Meanwhile, Traes, Thorn, and a good majority
of the other soldiers, continued to watch with amazement as the
hawk’s powerful claws clutched themselves around the pig, which was
about two hundred feet away from their position.

“Whoa…” Thorn said.

With a cock of his head, Traes asked, “Ready
to follow me, general?”

Thorn nodded his head.

With Traes in the lead, he jogged over to the
hawk’s current location.

By the time that these two men had neared the
hawk, they both observed that Praetor was already hacking away into
the pig’s flesh with his very sharp beak.

As soon as Praetor had finished eating, about
ten minutes later, Traes put back on the cap. He next cleaned the
hawk’s beak with a large cloth he had just pulled out of his
pocket, which took another ten minutes. Once done with that, he
pulled a large feather comb out of the saddlebag, and began to
groom the feathers.

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.”