BOOK II OF III: The Reign of the Sultan (40 page)

Ray, who had just stopped in his tracks,
extended his left gloved fist up straight up into the air, which
stopped the guards in their tracks, and then they began to listen,
while also fully assessing this “most unexpected situation.”

All the while, Baltor continued to say, “Even
if I were to reveal both of my swords, which are currently located
upon my back, and then crossing those swords high over my head,
which is the very Symbol of the Sharia Empire, you just might still
remain suspicious…right?”

“Possibly,” Nova answered.

“So what can I say or do to prove to you that
I am who I say I am?” Baltor asked, revealing but a tiny fraction
of the pain that he felt deep inside. “Would you like to feel the
pain and grief that has torn my heart into pieces at the death of
your Ruling General and my best friend this very night? If only I
could show you my heart—then there’d no longer be the doubts or
suspicions, would there?”

During the course of Baltor’s last series of
questions, Nova’s sword-bearing arm had dropped to her side.

Once Baltor made a lengthy pause, Nova
dropped onto her knees in the mud, bowed her head, and answered
just above a whisper, “No, my Sultan. I am so sorry for doubting
you… Please forgive me!”

Ray was the next one to speak as he
hesitantly asked, “My Sultan, what would you like to do regarding
Captain Nova’s doubts and suspicions regarding your identity? Have
her flogged?”

“No,” Baltor replied evenly, “I want Captain
Nova promoted to major, effective immediately. She did an
outstanding job!”

Immediately Nova’s eyes shot up with shock
and disbelief!

“Yes, my Sultan,” Ray responded. “Major Nova,
command all the guards to return to their posts, and then take
charge!”

After rising back to her feet, and wiping off
a bit of the mud that had accumulated on her knees, she said with a
whole lot of pride in her voice, “Yes sir! Guards, make it so.”

All the guards but Ray headed back to their
posts. Meanwhile, he delivered his sharpest salute, stating,
“Welcome, my Sultan...I am so sorry to hear about Ruling-General
Humonus.”

“Me too,” Baltor huffed out with a slightly
crackling voice, as he quickly threw his gaze over at the safety
straps holding him in place on the hawk, so that he could unbuckle
them and keep his grieving emotions under control by thinking about
something else. Darius and Traes followed suit by unbuckling
theirs.

Because Baltor was busy with this task, he
was unaware of the fact that a single teardrop had just formed at
the corner of Ray’s right eye. As soon as that teardrop had gotten
large enough that it actually cascaded down his cheek, he quickly
rubbed away the remnants of moisture with his right hand.

Ray said with a whole lot of pride only a
moment later, “Just like you, my Sultan, the Ruling-General Humonus
will forever be remembered as an honorable warrior and leader!”

More mournful emotions surfaced in Baltor’s
mind, but there wasn’t a single bloody tear that formed. He
couldn’t lose control of himself now, not in front of his men, even
though it was hard … very, very, very hard!

Once he had finally regained a mental control
over himself, about ten seconds later, he cocked his head over to
Humonus’s body behind him, and said, “Please, General Ray, ensure
that King Cheo, Yaush, Salami, and all the rest of my forces become
aware of my arrival, as soon as possible. Please, however, don’t
tell them about the Ruling-General’s condition—leave that up to me.
Understood?”

Despite the fact that Ray had been
field-promoted since they had left Pavelus, now bearing the rank of
Major-General, his only empathetic response was, “Yes, my
Sultan!”

By this time, Darius and Traes now stood on
their feet, each holding onto the reins of a hawk—Baltor climbed
down to the ground, and began to unbuckle Humonus’s straps.

All the while, Ray briskly walked over to the
command tent, where two of the posted guards were stationed.

He first looked to the male guard on the left
and said, “Politely wake up Yaush and Salami, and have them come
here on the double. Use finger pointing and frantic hand-waving
gestures, as neither speak Pavelian.”

That guard replied, “Yes, Major-General Ray!”
He then departed to carry out his orders.

To the female guard on the right, which he
saw and recognized was Mena, and noticed that she had been crying,
Ray said, “Retrieve Commanding-General Stormea and anyone else you
see along the way, Sergeant Mena…please, say nothing about the
Ruling-General’s condition to anybody.”

“Yes, Major-General Ray,” she replied, just
before she headed over to Stormea’s tent while wiping her tears
away.

Ray entered the command tent, walked over to
Cheo’s sleeping position in bed, and lightly wiggled the man’s toes
until he awoke, while calling out all the while, “King Cheo…Oh King
Cheo…”

Once he saw Cheo’s eyes open, he said, “Your
Majesty…it is important that you come outside immediately—the
Sultan has arrived!”

He watched as Cheo excitedly hopped out of
bed with an ear-to-ear smile on his face, threw on his pair of
pants, and booked for the tent flaps at top speed without socks or
shoes on!

By the time Mena had arrived with Stormea,
they saw that “the news” was rapidly spreading through the camp, as
most of the troops were now coming out of their tents with just
their trousers and boots on if they were male, or if they were
female, shirts, trousers and boots.

Most of the first arrivers observed that
Humonus was the only man who had not gotten out of the saddle of
his own willpower—and that Baltor now carried their
ruling-general’s limp body in his arms, while standing in
place.

Twenty seconds later, Salami and Yaush had
just squeezed their way to the inner circle, consisting of nearly
ten thousand troops. Many more were on the way.

The second Baltor saw Yaush and Salami enter
the circle, he called out, “Forces of the Sharia Empire—today we
have suffered an incredible loss!”

Salami interpreted.

Baltor continued, “Humonus—my teacher, one of
my best friends, and my Ruling-General—has sacrificed his life for
us all while fighting valiantly against the dragon this very day,
which dragon does in fact exist, let there be no doubt…

“Not only just for the Sharia Empire did my
brother sacrifice his life, but the entire world!”

Salami interpreted.

A few seconds after the interpretation was
complete, Baltor continued, “When we finally face the dragon’s dark
gnome army that not only outnumbers us astronomically, yet utilizes
audio and visual hallucinations as one of their major weapons, as
well weapons of magic, we must never forget Ruling-General
Humonus’s most-honorable sacrifice. Do you all hear and understand
me, Forces of the Sharia Empire?”

With a single zealous voice that boomed out
for miles, the troops answered in unison, “Yes, my Sultan!”

Salami translated what Baltor had said to
Yaush. In turn, Yaush nodded his head, while his eyes began to shed
tears.

Salami asked in Valakanese, “Why are you
crying, Yaush?”

“I am crying,” Yaush whispered back, “because
I know that Baltor cannot!”

Baltor had not heard Yaush’s words or he
would have burst into tears himself yet again, which certainly
wouldn’t have been a good thing.

Because he had not heard it, he ordered
aloud, “I need several of you soldiers that are skilled in making
coffins to do so for your Ruling-General, immediately. We shall
give him a funeral and bury him in front of his wife upon our
return to Pavelus—with honor and glory! Also, from now on, we will
use authentication passwords that will change daily.”

“Yes, my Sultan!”

Two soldiers carefully took Humonus’s body
from Baltor’s hands, while several more volunteered to get the
proper tools and supplies in order to make that coffin.

While the making of the coffin was going on,
the soldiers still around began to quietly mumble words to each
other. Upon every last face was “an estranged look” ranging between
shock, sadness, and grief!

Stormea was the only individual who remained
silent throughout, bearing his own total look of disbelief that his
ruling-general was gone. Seconds later the soldiers began to mumble
amongst one another.

The second Baltor began to speak, everyone
became silenced—he said, “Forces of the Sharia Empire, give me your
attention now.”

As everyone listened, Baltor crisply
commanded, “Commanding-General Stormea—front and center!”

Instantly Stormea ran over to his Sultan; and
once there, he snapped to the position of attention while snapping
a salute.

Without delay, word, or emotion, Baltor drew
his right sword with his left hand in one quick movement—in the
next quick movement that sword lightly caressed the
bottom-right-side of Stormea’s neck.

Meanwhile, though Stormea moved not a single
muscle, his mind had wondered if he had somehow accidentally ticked
off his Sultan, and was about to have his head cut off in
punishment without even having heard the crime—hey, he’d seen it
happen quite a few times before!

Instead of punishing however, Baltor
commended, “Commanding-General Stormea, for your outstanding
service and leadership skills, you are hereby field-promoted to the
rank of Ruling-General. Do your best in everything that you do, for
the glory of the Sharia Empire!”

Instantly Baltor’s sword was back in its
sheath—in turn, Stormea snapped the sharpest salute he had ever
done before, while declaring, “Yes my Sultan!”

The soldiers all around snapped their
sharpest salutes out of respect for all their leaders … Baltor
returned a crisp salute of his own.

He did not release that salute, until after
he had concluded, “Ruling-General, take charge with ensuring that
we are ready for travel in the next hour. We ride to war! We ride
to glory!”

“Yes, my Sultan!” Stormea said before he
dropped his salute. He then did an about face, and ordered, “You
heard the Sultan—let’s begin by getting dressed, eating a quick
breakfast, and then unsetting camp within the hour. Carry on.”

“Yes, Ruling-General Stormea,” the troops
boomed out, just before they began to fulfill their new
ruling-general’s orders.

“King Cheo,” Baltor said.

Cheo signed, “Yes, my friend?”

“I’m going to need you to scout out the best
routes along with Darius during the day, and lead the army…and I
shall do the same at night with Traes. Other than taking a break
here and there, and of course breakfast, lunch, and dinner, we are
going to continue until we arrive at our destination—day and night.
Is that okay with you, my friend?”

Cheo with a smile, answered, “Yes, Sultan
Baltor, it is.”

“Thank you, King Cheo.”

“By the way, Humonus died bravely. I’m sure
his spirit dwells in one of the seven Planes of Heaven! This
morning’s most-colorful sunrise proved that to me.”

“Me too…”

Without delay, Cheo gave Baltor a really
tight hug—again Baltor fought back his grief-stricken emotions, but
this time it was a bit easier because he had his other best friend
there for support…

In an hour’s time, everyone proceeded
eastbound. Cheo and Darius went to sleep in the back of a bunk
wagon. Stormea led the procession. Traes rode on the female hawk,
and Baltor rode on his hawk. The only other difference with this
formation was that Yaush and the giants followed in between the
assault and the support teams.

Come morning, and during the next day, Baltor
and Traes slept in the back of a bunk wagon, while Darius and Cheo
scouted ahead. The army continued to ride southeast.

Like always, Cheo was able to relay his
navigational commands to the army by writing the directions in
Pavelian and dropping the message to Stormea below—thanks to all of
Humonus’s teaching Cheo how to read and write—and that is the route
that the army went.

The following night, Traes scouted ahead,
while Baltor flew his hawk close to his army and assisted with
navigating.

The next morning, the army continued on like
the day prior. Surprisingly, no one had ever gotten tired—most were
still angry that Humonus was dead! The only person who slept was
Baltor, who rode in the back of one of the bunk wagons.

That evening, twenty minutes before a
colorful sunset, Darius was scouting ahead, spotting something far
ahead in the distance directly to the east, which vast area looked
to be burnt-up tree stumps.

After pulling out the scope and looking up,
Darius’s right eye first observed a large field of brown mud that
spanned five miles in length and forty miles in width—lying beyond
this field was a sandy beach, filled with tens of millions of
moving black ants!

Having no doubt that these ants were dark
gnomes, Darius immediately yanked hard the reins of his hawk until
she face northwest. He estimated that the armies were only about an
hour away from each other, being six miles apart!

Fifteen minutes later, he saw Cheo flying
just above the level of the trees, and once he had arrived, he
signaled for the king to follow him down to Stormea’s position.

Stormea, having seen the hawks coming, called
out, “Forces—halt!”

They did.

The second they were perched on the ground,
Darius briefed, “I spotted the dark gnome army six miles southeast
from here at the beach, Ruling General.”

Stormea asked, “What’s today’s password,
Darius?”

Darius answered, “Homlick, sir.”

“Correct—good job, Darius. The Sultan has not
yet awoken, but he should be up any minute now,” Stormea
reported.

Meanwhile, Cheo had been fervently writing
something on a piece of parchment—upon completion, he handed it to
Stormea.