Book I of III: The Swords of the Sultan (50 page)

It wasn’t until the last of the silks were
removed off Baltor that both he and his wife climbed out of the
back of the wagon, before looking all around.

As he scanned from west to north to
northeast, his eyes came upon the jagged peaks of the Bospa
Mountains far off in that direction, and a few moments later, he
recognized the very peaks that existed to the southeast.

His gaze then fell to the south-southeast,
discovering the very same fertile valley that he had passed through
the first time. All of this was due, of course, to his
binocular-and-night vision.

Brishava didn’t see a thing, other than the
darkness of night for obvious reasons.

As he cocked his head over to look at his
wife, he asked aloud in shock and wonder, “How can this be? How can
I still be alive?”

“It could have been a number of factors,” she
answered. “Perhaps all you needed were the silks and the wagon to
protect you from the sun, perhaps it was our strong love for each
other, perhaps it was God…”

She gave him a kiss on his cheek before
adding, “Most likely, it was probably a combination of all those
factors.”

“I’m alive!” he exclaimed with glee.

He grabbed a hold of his wife tightly, and
kissed her in exultation—she was just as joyous, especially from
the flood of positive emotions that poured from her husband!

Once the kissing had abated, perhaps a minute
later, she lightly drew her finger down her husband’s cheek and
said, “I love you.”

“And I love you!” he exclaimed—they began
kissing yet again…

Poila was the one to ask a minute later, “I
hate to break you two lovebirds up, but is there any way we can get
camp set up soon? None of us knows how to set up a campfire, much
less the tents. Chelsea volunteered to cook, but we don’t know what
we’ve got just yet.”

“Of course,” he replied as soon as he had
stopped the kissing a moment later. He then asked, “Will you ladies
please oblige me by gathering up as much firewood as you possibly
can find into a pile. Say, right over there? While you do this,
Brishava and I shall begin to set up all our tents, okay? Oh, by
the way, can one of you please get my flint that is located in my
stallion’s front left saddle, please? It looks like a rectangular
piece of rock about oh so big.” He then gestured with his hands to
indicate the size of the flint.

“Sure,” the women agreed, and immediately
they began to make things happen. Meanwhile, Baltor and Brishava
began the process of learning how to set up the tent for the very
first time—it took about ten minutes to figure out how to set the
tent securely into the ground that theoretically would last the
night.

About twenty minutes and three tents later,
he saw that the women had gathered enough wood, and a blond-haired
woman had just handed him his flint. He immediately stopped putting
together that fourth tent in order to safely set up the campfire,
and light it with the flint.

Meanwhile, Brishava continued to follow right
behind her husband, and assist whenever he asked her to do
something.

As for the redhead, she surprisingly found
enough components in the back of the wagon to conjure up a month’s
worth of dried rations, and a week’s worth of nice breakfasts and
dinners, as well some pots, pans, plates, silverware, glasses,
etc.

As soon as the redhead had excitedly informed
everyone about her discoveries with that unusual twang, he realized
for the very first time that this was Chelsea—the only redhead in
the group of women. However, he was too busy setting up the tents
to do an introduction, right now.

Chelsea immediately began the process of
mixing a salted ham and vegetable stew, and about ten minutes
later, she then began cooking it in a pot over the open fire, which
she realized would take about forty-five minutes to cook. As for
Baltor and Brishava, they continued setting up the tents, one after
the other.

About forty minutes later, just as they were
just finishing setting up the last of the tents, they heard Chelsea
calling out to everyone with that twang, “Dinner time,
everybody—time to eat!”

He kissed his wife, informed her that he will
be back soon, and without any further delay, headed out into the
darkness to forage for his own food.

Once Brishava had arrived and picked up a
plate, Chelsea approached while asking, “Why isn’t Baltor eating
any of my stew—it’s absolutely delicious!”

Brishava explained, “He’s got his own special
type of diet. By the way, just to let you know, my name is
Breeze.”

“I’m Chelsea—nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you!”

After the two girls had given each other a
couple of squeezing hugs, Brishava then asked, “So, where are you
from, Chelsea?”

Chelsea answered, “Oh—I’m from Lochas, which
is a very small town located in the Vispano Province. You?”

“Oh. As for me, I’m from here and there.”

Chelsea replied with a wide smile, “Oh, well
nice to meet you. Well, go ahead and enjoy your meal, Breeze! I’m
sure you’re hungry.”

“Thanks—I will!”

The girls spent the rest of the meal in
silence, as most were far too exhausted to stay awake—Baltor and
Brishava had no problems staying awake all night long, even though
there wasn’t a single incident to report. She also told him that he
should call her Breeze, her childhood nickname, for at least a
little while—even around these other girls. He agreed.

Just before he was wrapped up into the silks
the next morning, he pointed toward the southeast and informed
Chelsea, who had volunteered to ride his horse that day and lead
the caravan, “Hey Chelsea, make sure you keep leading us all that
direction, okay?”

With that twang voice, Chelsea replied, “No
problem, Baltor.”

Two evenings later, the caravan had left the
last of the desert, and entered the fertile valley of the Bospa
Mountains.

The women, including Brishava, could no
longer take the continuous riding on the horses or on the wagon,
due to their very sore fannies.

After he had awoken the third night, he
immediately discovered that all his vampire powers were once again
gone—as he was finishing setting up the campfire, he began to
wonder if he would only have his powers in three-day bursts for all
eternity.

Once the entire camp had been set up with the
girls’ assistance, they soon ate a great meal consisting of a large
deer that Baltor had hunted, killed, skewered, and cooked.

Later that night, while they all sat at the
campfire, ate, and relaxed, he informed the girls, “In about three
days or so, we will come to a major fork in the path that goes both
north and south. Make sure, if I’m sleeping, that we choose the
southern route, even though it looks easier to go north—trust me on
that…

“Also, things will be getting colder from
here on out, so I would suggest that you find whatever extra
clothes you can find, and be ready to put them on. It will soon get
cold enough to snow, even during the middle of the day—okay?”

Meanwhile, the women, including Brishava,
agreed to all his suggestions by either nodding or saying “okay” in
between his pauses.

Almost immediately after, the women fell
asleep, though Brishava was the last to fall asleep as she cuddled
with her husband by the fire.

As for Baltor, he remained on guard all night
long, which night passed by without an incident, an encounter, or
even a single snowflake.

An hour before sunrise, he awoke his wife,
and then they made breakfast for everyone, which consisted of
dozens of eggs he cooked in the cooking pan over the fire, as well
several loaves of bread, and last but not least, several jugs of
juice.

Once done with getting everything set up
conveniently for the women onto plates, glasses, and silverware,
Baltor and Brishava woke the girls up one after the other, and then
pointed their sleepy selves over into the direction of the
food.

Once that part of their mission was
accomplished, the two then began the task of unsetting all the
tents.

Meanwhile, the rest of the women ate and
drank by the fire—before long, they were introducing themselves and
chattering happily away with each other like hens in a henhouse,
most of them for the very first time.

By the time the women were done with
breakfast about ten minutes before sunrise, Baltor and Brishava had
neatly put everything back into the wagon, so that there was room
for the two to either sit or lie down.

Chelsea was the first to arrive at the wagon,
and volunteer, “Would you like me to help you get wrapped up,
Baltor?”

“Please. By the way, your name is Chelsea,
right?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Chelsea chimed back, “Nice to meet you!”

Brishava had just produced the roll of black
silks, and asked, “Are we ready?”

He answered, “Let’s do it.”

With Chelsea’s assistance, Brishava wrapped
her husband back into the black silks, and once thoroughly wrapped,
Brishava alone climbed into the back of the wagon. Chelsea then
guided Baltor until he was comfortably lying down inside the back
of the wagon, before she made her way for the wagon’s driver’s
seat.

Only seconds before sunrise, the last thing
he heard just before he fell instantly asleep was Chelsea’s voice
declare, “By the way, Baltor, Poila just volunteered to ride your
horse today, okay?”

The sun rose just as she was finishing saying
the word “okay.”

When the sun had set, Baltor learned from
Brishava that the caravan had only stopped for a couple of short
breaks, to give the horses some water and hay, eat dried rations
for lunch, and utilize the latrine; otherwise, they had traveled
all day long.

As the girls ate a quiet dinner of more dried
rations, he asked, “Do you want me to set up camp for the night, or
do we just want to keep traveling?”

In unison, they answered, “Keep
traveling.”

“By the way,” Brishava asked, “what is the
name of your friend and his village? We can’t remember.”

He answered, “Yaush is the name of my friend.
His village is Valakan.”

Poila was the first to say, “Yes, we all
decided that we just want to get to Valakan as soon as possible…and
relax for a week, maybe a month.”

With a smile, Baltor replied, “That sounds
like a great idea!”

Suddenly, his stomach made a grumbling sound
that alerted Brishava’s attention immediately.

“Honey,” she asked, “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, I am, but I’ll be all right,” he
answered.

“Oh.”

He then explained to them all, “After all, I
agree with you ladies that we should ride as long as possible, so
as to get to Valakan as soon as possible. After all, besides the
cozy town, there’ll also be hot and delicious meals, cool and tasty
beverages, yet most especially, warm beds for us all to sleep in.
Maybe even in a day or two, if we push it to the limit!”

“Hooray!” they all agreed.

About an hour later, which was the second
time that his stomach grumbled during this night, he simply took an
extra shirt, and tied it tightly around his waist. Meanwhile,
Brishava said nothing this time about it, though she did lightly
pat her husband’s belly in understanding.

Throughout this second night, not only did a
single snowflake not fall from the sky yet the temperatures
continued to remain unusually warm all night long.

By noon the next day, the girls could no
longer take the constant riding, and after stopping the caravan,
they began to stretch their arms and legs around, including
Brishava who had just woken up.

They spent an hour in this location, which
timeframe consisted of eating a small portion of food and water,
stretching their arms and legs out even more, or utilizing the
latrine—not a word was spoken by anyone until it was time to go,
which was by Brishava. She stated at a volume so all of the girls
could hear, “Mount up…time to go.” Within the minute, the caravan
headed eastbound.

Afternoon soon turned into night, whereupon
Baltor awoke, and as he didn’t feel Brishava lying on his chest in
the still-moving wagon, he sat up. From the quick movement, his
stomach growled angrily at him, thanks to the pangs of hunger…but
his mind ignored his stomach’s demand.

What he didn’t know was that Brishava was
sitting right next to him—that is, until she removed the silk
wrapped around his head. Once so, he sounded chipper as he greeted,
“Good evening, honey.”

“Evening,” she replied, sounding just as
chipper, “I’ll have this all off of you momentarily, and then I’ll
alert the caravan to stop and take a fifteen minute break.
Following, we’ll ride on Grasha for most of the night, except for a
few pit-stops. Sound good?”

“Sounds good…”

Once the caravan had stopped, only a
half-minute later, Baltor and Brishava exited the wagon, before
heading the warhorse. Although Poila was standing on her feet and
holding the reins, she and the other girls were stretching their
bodies out.

As soon as the break was over, Chelsea began
to drive the wagon, while Poila slept in the back—Baltor and
Brishava rode on Grasha at the very front. By four in the morning,
the weather had gotten quite a bit colder, which was what caused
Brishava to wake up from a light nap while leaning against her
husband.

She was also the first one to spot a very
small campfire about a hundred feet up ahead to the right, because
her head had been blocking Baltor’s view in that direction.

“Baltor,” she asked, while shifting her head
over so that he could see the direction she pointed with her index
finger. “Do you think that maybe that person camping up right over
there next to the mountain possibly comes from your friend’s town?
Valakan, did you say?”

He immediately looked over in that direction.
After about ten seconds or so, he simply shrugged his shoulders
while answering, “Perhaps.”