BOOK II OF III: The Reign of the Sultan (4 page)

As for all the mercenary divisions, they
stopped talking amongst one another and looked to the front of the
ranks to see what was going on. Even though they had arrived by
ships and would return to their vehicles following the formation so
that they could sail to Pavelus at a slow speed, they would only
dismount on the beaches inside the harbor when the order came
through from Vaspan, and attack mercilessly—“amphibious
mercenaries” was their trademark.

After spending a few more minutes inspecting
the dense crowd of troops under his command, Vaspan called out
loudly, “Forces of the Vaspan Empire, and the mercenary divisions
whom I have recently hired. I am…Sultan-Sedious Vaspan the First,
and the time has finally come for me to claim what is rightfully
mine—the Sharia Empire!”

He took a deep breath through his nose,
before he added, “Join me now, and once I have achieved what is
rightfully mine, I will give to you what is rightfully yours—the
everlasting plunders of Pavelus, and soon after, the entire
world!”

Like frenzied maniacs, the troops began to
slam their weapons chaotically into their armor-plated chests,
which caused booming sounds for miles around—the four mercenary
divisions began following suit, and the chaotic noise became
extremely loud and deafening for about ten minutes!

Once silence reigned, except for the maniacal
laughter of Vaspan that continued for a few moments longer, he
commanded, “To war….we march!”

Excluding those soldiers who had been
selected to stay behind and protect the city, as well the
mercenary-marine divisions who had already begun to head back to
their ships, the bulk of the army immediately began the march
northwest toward Pavelus…

Back in Pavelus—3 weeks later…

The throngs of people that surrounded the
palace had remained ominously silent, for nearly two minutes; that
is, after Baltor had popped his question. This nerve-racking
timeframe felt to him like “two eternities.”

Until suddenly, an anonymous woman’s voice
cried out, “Hail to the Sultan!”

Then another man’s voice joined in, “Hail to
the Sultan!”

In less than ten seconds, the majority of the
crowd had also joined in, and soon enough, even the eighty-foot
tall palace’s exterior walls began to reverberate from the
deafening volume!

Somehow, Baltor’s voice managed to become
even louder than all the other voices as he drew out both swords
from their sheaths, crossed the swords high over his head, and
shouted at the top of his lungs, “Hail to the Sharia Empire!”

The crowds immediately followed suit by
chanting, “Hail to the Sharia Empire!” For a whole minute, the
majority of this crowd fervently chanted out these words.

Finally, with one swift movement, he slid
both swords back into their respective sheaths. He next raised his
arms back up into the skies, while simultaneously extending his
open-palmed hands up and out toward the crowds.

Approximately fifteen seconds later, as he
slowly lowered them to the ground, the crowds became silent just as
slowly.

Once silence reigned again, Baltor then
proclaimed, “So be it…as your new Sultan, I would now like to make
an introduction of my own. Standing to my right is the commander of
all my forces, both army and navy. His name is Ruling-General
Humonus. Listen carefully to what this man has to say.”

Humonus spoke with a loud and commanding tone
as he declared, “Citizens of Pavelus! Tomorrow morning, booths will
be set up just outside the palace gates for those who wish to
enlist—as our Sultan has decreed, excellent training and pay will
be provided for all volunteers.”

Humonus turned his head to the left, so he
could look at his ruler. Once he saw that Baltor was looking back,
Humonus’s gaze fell once more toward the crowds.

After gesturing with his open-palmed left
hand toward his Sultan, Humonus added, “I have only one thing left
to say—it truly is an honor to serve under you, my King, my
Emperor.”

He paused in his speech to perform a left
face so that he faced Baltor. He next went down onto both knees,
bowed his head and closed his eyes. With pride to his voice, he
concluded, “My Sultan!”

In the very next moment, every single
citizen, soldier, and guard bowed similarly.

Shortly thereafter, although Humonus’s eyes
continued to remain closed, he felt his friend’s hand gently cup
his left shoulder.

Upon opening his eyes, he saw the front of
Baltor’s shirt.

As he continued to look up, he noted that his
Sultan’s cheeks were now a bit flushed, which signified that the
young ruler might be feeling a bit overwhelmed at all the attention
he was receiving.

After all, he knew all too well that Baltor
had become an orphan at twelve years old; soon after became a thief
and warrior under his direct tutelage; later an adventurer; later a
prince of a tribal village located on the other side of the
continent. As of today, Baltor became the ruler of a vast and
powerful empire with approximately one hundred twenty thousand
people now paying him both respect and homage.

However, upon looking deep into his Sultan’s
eyes that equally reflected honor, pride, and excitement, Humonus’s
mind only then realized that the man was, in all actuality,
reveling in “the moment!”

A confirming smile crossed Baltor’s face as
he replied, “Thank you…my friend and my Ruling General.”

After delivering a single nod of his head,
Humonus replied, “You are most welcome, my Sultan. It is my honor
to serve you.”

Once Baltor had removed his hand and placed
it back at his side, Humonus rose back to his feet, snapped a right
face back toward the crowds still looking at the ground, and
silently waited in the position of attention.

Baltor turned his whole body to face the
crowds as well. After extending his hands back out into the air, he
concluded, “Citizens of Pavelus and the Sharia Empire—rise!”

The crowds obediently rose to their feet,
some slower than others.

Once everyone stood on their feet, he
concluded, “Tonight, we celebrate here at the palace with food,
drink, and merriment, to which all are welcome! Thank you for
coming. Now please, enjoy the party!”

“Hip-hip-hooray,” they cheered quite
enthusiastically.

Without any further delay, Baltor clapped his
hands twice into the air—and the front doors to the golden palace
opened. The first to proceed out those doors were dozens of bards
already playing melodious musical instruments that ranged from
lyres, to lutes, to drums—all of course in perfect synchronization
with one another.

Following them were nearly a thousand
servants who pushed large wheeled carts fully stocked with
still-steaming breads, ripe-and-ready-to-rip-off-the-bone meats,
and of course, delicious wines and ales.

Upon seeing all of this food and drink, most
of the crowd jubilantly cried out even louder, “Hooray!”

There were still hundreds of people, however,
that did not bear such pleased expressions at all upon their
faces—expressions that ranged from doubtful, to scared, to
unhappy—a few faces even looked angry.

Out of the entire bunch of angry faces,
Baltor recognized only three. They belonged to the thieves’ guild
that he had once belonged to until but a few years back—their names
were Laseva, Jensa, and Qels. Master Qels had been his “disarm
booby traps teacher,” and had acted very mean toward Baltor.

All the while, the crowds gave a wide berth
to the servants pushing the carts. Once the servants had fully
stopped, the crowd began to hover around in order to get their food
and drink on, while the celebratory music continuously played.

For several minutes longer, Baltor, Brishava,
and Humonus watched in silence, though with pleased smiles upon
their faces, as most of the citizens happily celebrated below.

Brishava was the first to turn around and
head back into the bedroom, followed of course by the two men. Once
inside, she breathed a deep sigh of relief.

As she turned back, yet another excited smile
formed on her face, before she chimed, “Excellent job, guys—you
guys acted as if you’ve been diplomats all your lives!”

At the same exact time, both men replied with
smiles of relief on their faces, “Thanks!”

The three not only began to laugh merrily,
yet without hesitation, they formed a tight group hug.

Joining the hug a second later was an
attractive-redhead with blue eyes, wearing a shimmering-green
evening dress. She had been watching and listening to the entire
ceremony from inside the room.

During the course of the hug, the redhead
stopped laughing so that she could affirm, “Yes—I agree with Bri—I
mean, my Sultaness’ words of ‘excellent job.’ I must say I’m very
impressed!”

It was then that Brishava stopped laughing,
pulled back from the hug so she could look over, and said, “Me too,
Chelsea.”

Chelsea smiled warmly at Brishava for a few
moments before turning to face Humonus so that she could plant a
kiss on her husband’s cheek. Once she had done just that, she
cooed, “I love you, my general of generals—you were great!”

Even though Baltor and Brishava continued to
smile, Humonus began to chuckle as he said, “I love you too, my
beautiful wife—thanks!”

For quite a few moments, the group shared in
the warmth of their friendships.

After delivering another sigh, Brishava was
the first to ask, “So…are we ready to get serious and head to the
throne room, so that we can celebrate with the nobles?”

“Of course,” Baltor and Humonus answered at
the exact same time again. They looked at each other with amused
glances and smiles, but did not laugh—after all they were all now
in “serious mode.”

The four began to walk toward the exit of the
bedroom. Upon their approach, the soldiers stationed there snapped
a salute, and each opened his respective door.

With twenty-six of the fifty-two guards on
the other side of the door taking lead, and the remaining guards
following behind, the group of fifty-six proceeded down the long
hallway to the right.

After turning left down the next hallway, the
group eventually reached the golden spiral staircase with purple
carpeting that led downstairs.

They next descended the stairs, before
walking down a very wide and long hallway that had six different
sets of double doors made of mahogany on the left side of the
hallway—there wasn’t a single door on the right side.

Meanwhile, everyone could clearly hear
beautifully orchestrated music that emanated from somewhere
ahead.

Finally, at the end of this particular
hallway, the group approached the final set of double doors.
Besides the two guards that protected the royal entrance into the
throne room, Ruksha also waited patiently for the group to draw
closer.

Once they had finally neared the door,
perhaps twenty seconds later, the two guards posted there snapped
their sharpest salutes. At the same time, Ruksha bowed before his
Sultan and Sultaness.

The guards dropped their salutes, opened the
golden doors, and stood just to the inside of their respective
door.

On cue, the eight leading guards marched up
behind the first two, and stopped behind them. In unison, the ten
soldiers turned to face inwards; and only a second later, their
swords were all simultaneously drawn, raised, and crossed against
the sword with the soldier on the opposite side.

Brishava ordered, “You may now rise, Ruksha,
and introduce us to the nobles, please.”

Ruksha slowly got back onto his feet. Without
any further adieu, he entered the throne room.

All the while, Baltor and Brishava gazed at
each other lovingly, despite the seriousness of the upcoming
moment.

As soon as the hundreds of people in the room
had become aware of the announcer’s presence, thanks to the two
trumpeters who had begun to blow out the national anthem, the
orchestra stopped playing on the same note.

Meanwhile, the sheik female belly dancers
stopped dancing as they moved their way off the dance floor.

At the same time, the nobles of Pavelus
casually began to fill the dance floor, so that they could observe,
and listen to, the upcoming announcement.

Through the open doorway, Baltor noted that
the noblemen and women neither seemed pleased nor upset, as every
last one of them bore “a political face.”

However, not a single noble could hide his or
her feelings about the situation, thanks to their eyes that
revealed everything—about a dozen of the nearly one hundred nobles
seemed genuinely pleased. The vast majority revealed uncertainty
and/or fear. About eight or so revealed looks of contempt,
haughtiness, indignation, or even outrage.

Once the last of the nobles had arrived at
his or her particular destination and stopped, which was at the end
of the playing of the anthem, they began to look at Ruksha.

Ruksha, once he saw he had everyone’s
complete and undivided attention, proclaimed, “Ladies and lords, it
is my sovereign duty and privilege to introduce to you all—the new
Sultan and the Sultaness of the Sharia Empire!”

Two trumpeters immediately began to blow out
a royal introductory tune. With Brishava’s hand still lightly
clasping Baltor’s forearm, the two walked into the throne room and
toward their thrones.

It wasn’t until they had taken ten steps
inside the room that the very first noble bowed his head in homage
and respect. Only a second before that noble had begun to bow,
Baltor observed two major things about him in a glance.

First, it was the man’s very, very expensive
outfit, consisting of a wide-brimmed black hat, pants, and
buttoned-up jacket, in which all three items were made of velvet
and had dozens and dozens of tiny, prismatic diamonds glued
everywhere in a non-orderly fashion, making him look like “a starry
night.” The jacket, of course, had diamonds for the buttons. The
white buttoned-up shirt underneath had fluffy, black furls around
both the neck and the wrists, and his low-quartered black boots had
a diamond on the top of the foot.