BOOK II OF III: The Reign of the Sultan (55 page)

The servants bowed, and said, “Yes, my
Sultaness.” They then left the throne room and headed to their
rulers’ dressing rooms, so that they could pack.

One hour later, the ambassador, Baltor,
Brishava, the dozen assistants, and a platoon of guards all walked
through the portal, instantly arriving in a recently-built cabin in
Valakan.

This pleasant-looking cabin’s sole purpose
was to house a dozen portal-mirrors, the barracks for twelve
guards, and of course, the guards themselves.

After the posted guard at the door had opened
it, which revealed a warm summery night outside, the ambassador
escorted his Sultan, Sultaness, and the platoon of guards down the
gravel road to Yaush and Jimnee’s home.

Meanwhile, the servants—with luggage in
tow—made their way for still another cabin that was Baltor and
Brishava’s “home away from home.”

About five minutes later, the ambassador
knocked upon the front door—as for the guards, they had already
begun to spread out and surround the cabin itself, in order to
dutifully protect its occupants.

Yaush’s eldest boy Thar opened the door—now
aged nineteen. Currently he stood at nine-feet-tall, and weighed
four hundred and seventy pounds!

On this giant’s good-looking face, looking
just like his father’s, there was clearly a worried
expression—still he had his wits to deeply boom out in Pavelian,
“Uncle Baltor and Aunt Brishava! Nice to see you—I wish it wasn’t
under these circumstances, but come on in…”

“Thank you,” both said simultaneously with
warm smiles.

While the ambassador departed back for his
Sultan’s cabin, along with two of his guards, so as to ensure the
servants had done their job, Baltor and Brishava entered Yaush’s
cabin, and Thar closed the door.

Currently, they saw that Jimnee was sitting
on the bed next to Yaush, while Barquoth and Rex were sitting at
the dinner table, eating a steaming bowl of stew—Rex was identical
to his elder brother in every way, except for the fact that this
seventeen-year-old had flaming-red hair and freckles.

With a respectful nod, Barquoth greeted,
“Greetings, my Sultan and Sultaness.”

Brishava replied, “Greetings, Governor
Barquoth. How fare you?”

“Excellent,” he replied. A frown crossed his
face as he added, “Except for this.”

Rex, who had just finished swallowing the
stew in his mouth, boomed out in Pavelian, “How are you, my uncle
and aunt?”

“Well, really good, until we heard this
news,” Baltor answered. “How is your father now?”

Jimnee was the first to answer the question
as she said, “When Yaush was last conscious about an hour ago—he
said that he was still feeling horribly weak and nauseous…”

After releasing a deep sigh, she added, “It
all started this morning, right after breakfast, when he was once
again clutching his left shoulder, sweating profusely, and
complaining of feeling real dizzy. This is like the third time he
has exhibited these symptoms—but this is the first time that he has
been too weak to move the rest of the day. Something serious must
be wrong with him this time, but I don’t know what to do, nor does
our city doctor…”

Baltor asked, “Can we talk to him?”

“Well, if you can get him to wake up,” Jimnee
answered, “By all means.”

He and Brishava walked over, and in turn,
each gave Jimnee a hug.

Even though Yaush continued to remain
sleeping under the thick fur blanket, his face was white as a
ghost—Baltor, for the first time ever, noticed that his friend’s
thick and wavy hair was now white, instead of blond.

Nearly a minute later, Yaush unexpectedly
squinted open his eyes, looked over at Baltor, and delivered a
small smile. With a weak voice, he said, “Baltor, tai visha jaosaim
…” (9)

Baltor sat next to Yaush, clasped his hand
with both of his own, and replied back, “Yaush, tai visha jaosaim,
mao sahu ruinam arigarata eutra vrisha—tai hart mit.” (10)

By this time, the whole family stood or sat
around the bed … they silently listened.

Unexpectedly, Yaush switched his language to
Pavelian as he said, “You’re probably right, but I just don’t feel
very good right now…so very tired and weak I am today. But I’ll be
okay, my Sultan.”

Baltor released a deep sigh, as well a laugh,
before saying, “Yaush, you know you’ve never had to call me Sultan,
except when we have had official ceremonies or speeches. Never have
I ever let you forget that I couldn’t have become a Sultan had you
not saved my life, my friend and my brother…from the scarain!”

“Yes, I know, my friend and my brother,”
Yaush said. After taking a deep breath, he added, “I also know that
you have hard-earned your title, which title few in this universe
ever get a chance at. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Yaush said, a second before
his eyes began to look around at the people surrounding his bed …
one person at a time.

Once done, he said real tiredly, “Wow…what a
lucky man I am to have all my family here right now…but I must
rest…yes. So very tired, I am…”

“Then sleep, my brother,” Baltor said.
“You’ll be just fine…”

With that, all but Jimnee made their way
toward the living room, sat down in the couches, and began to
converse about other casual subjects in hushed tones…

Until, but a few minutes later, their
conversation was most unexpectedly interrupted as another major
spasm of pain crossed Yaush’s face, just before he gripped his
chest and delivered a scream of agony … the second that scream had
stopped, so too did his breathing!

Baltor immediately rushed over, switching
between pumping the giant’s chest and trying mouth-to-mouth
resuscitation, but all his first-aid efforts failed … Yaush was
dead.

Upon realization that his friend was gone
forever, a few minutes later, his own eyes could not fight back the
bloody tears—without pause, he jetted toward the front door, opened
it, exited the cabin, closed the door, and ran off into the forest
before any of the guards could follow!

Once he was sure he was alone, he collapsed
to the ground, and began to sob … for at least an hour, bloody
tears continuously soaked the grass!

When he finally had regained his composure,
he headed back to the cabin while wiping all the blood off his
face—every last guard still stationed around the door had a very
worried expression on his or her face.

The female leader asked, “My Sultan, are you
okay? We would have chased you down, but the Sultaness came out
right after you left and told us to stay at our posts.”

“Yes I’m fine now, major,” Baltor said after
releasing a deep sigh. “Just, please, open the door for me.”

“Yes, my Sultan!”

Upon Baltor entering, and the door being
closed behind him by the major, he saw that the whole group was
sharing in a group hug, while consoling each other through their
shared tears.

As Baltor fought back the tears once again,
he said, “Sorry…”

Jimnee replied in Pavelian, “It’s okay. Come
here, Baltor—please, join us…”

Without hesitation, Baltor joined them in the
group hug.

The following morning at sunrise, Yaush’s
body was burned on a funeral pyre, which was the Valakanese way—not
only had the whole town showed up, but so had Cheo, Chelsea, and
their two children.

Jimnee was the first to speak. As her tears
freely flowed down her face, she proudly stated, “Yaush lived a
full life of fifty-one years! Two days ago, when he was feeling
healthy and wise, he coincidentally asked me if he had been a good
and caring man…

“I tell you all now, as I already told
him—Yaush was not only a great governor, yet he was a perfect
husband and father. I know that he is smiling down upon us from
Elysium, quite happy to know that all his family and friends are
here to say their farewells…

“I—I love you, Yaush, my darling husband! I
can’t wait to see you in the next life…”

After Baltor had wrapped an arm around
Jimnee’s waist, he said aloud, “If it hadn’t been for Yaush, I
would not be here this day—he saved my life! He was one of the most
honorable, courageous, and humorous men I have ever met! When we
first met, after he saved my life from a scarain, his laughter
fueled my heart and soul that shall last forever. Yaush, my friend
and brother, farewell—see you in the next life!”

After he had finished, everyone else who had
something to say spoke, once his or her turn had come. Chelsea
didn’t have to translate to Cheo what they said, as he now fluently
understood the Valakan language ... as well five other
languages.

By noon, all the farewells had been
concluded, and everyone headed to the inn to eat, drink and talk
about Yaush’s life, which life had been very good overall. That
night, everyone headed back home, wherever his or her home
was….

As the years began to pass, the Sharia Empire
slowly began to expand into other continents. One by one, the
territories, fiefdoms, provinces, kingdoms, and even other empires
united under the Sharia Empire—mostly under peaceful terms.

Only two minor wars had transpired, in which
Baltor and his empire had not been the aggressors, but they had
been the victors.

Meanwhile, as those years passed, many more
of Baltor and Brishava’s friends died of various reasons, mainly of
old age—of course, the Sultan and Sultaness attended each and every
funeral.

Three years after Yaush’s death, Travail died
of cancer at the age of sixty-nine—surviving him were four
children, and three grandchildren.

Then, only a year later, Calitta peacefully
died in her sleep at the age of sixty-three—she had no
children.

Two years later, Praetor—Baltor’s hawk—had
died from old age. One year later, Leshava died from the same
cause. Overall, these two hawks had bred thirty-four hawks, which
in turn had ninety-seven hawks, which in turn had two hundred
twenty-eight hawks, which in turn had six hundred sixteen.

Every single hawk was used in still another
of Baltor’s brilliant schemes—create an “air force” of hawks, hawk
riders, and hawk commanders! Half were used for scouting purposes …
the other half were used for aerial combat. The names of these two
small divisions were “Air Scouts” and “Air Assault.”

Seven years later, Jimnee died in her sleep
at the age of sixty-one…

Two years later, Rex tragically died at the
young age of thirty-one. Unlike all the others who had died of old
age, however, he had been killed while fighting hand-to-hand
against a giant, white bear that had snuck up behind him when he
was hunting ... Rex had almost won the battle.

Not even a week after Rex’s death, which was
during Brishava’s fifty-fifth year of life (though she still
remarkably looked to be in her early forties), she unexpectedly
fainted one morning while her handmaidens were in the process of
dressing her for the day!

Within a month’s time, things for her got
progressively worse, as she began to experience severe dizzy and
nauseous spells whenever even trying to get out of bed—at the same
time, her face had already aged five years, especially because she
never slept well anymore…

The following year to the date, Valiante died
in his sleep at ninety—surviving him were four children, eight
grandchildren, twelve great grandchildren and two great-great
grandchildren.

A year and a half later, Chelsea died at the
age of sixty from a stroke that instantly killed her!

Though Baltor attended and spoke at every
funeral, Brishava was too weak and in too much pain to get out of
bed to attend any anymore...

Over the course of the next six years to
come, her appearance became skeletal, just like with her father and
grandfather! Despite her ghastly appearance, Baltor’s love for her
never dwindled and he only saw her as “picture perfect.”

One particular summery evening, after he had
finished with his daily imperial tasks, he headed to his bedroom in
order to feed Brishava her dinner—she was now sixty-three years old
and he sixty-seven.

A servant followed behind, delivering a
golden bowl that contained chicken noodle soup with a small piece
of white bread—that and porridge were the only two types of food
her stomach could tolerate. Everything else, she threw up.

Baltor was halfway through feeding her this
soup, when she weakly asked, “My husband, I have a question for
you.”

“Yes, my love?”

“Actually,” Brishava said, “I’ve been wanting
to know the answer to this question for a very long time now, but
until now, I haven’t had the courage to ask it.”

“You’ve never been afraid to ask me anything
before—don’t you know you can ask me anything?” he asked as he set
the bowl upon the table next to the bed.

“Well, upon this one subject, I was afraid
because of the ‘strange rumors’ I’ve heard about you over the
years,” she said.

With a curious look now upon his face, he
asked, “What is your question?”

After a lengthy pause, she extended her
skeletal hand up until it began to caress his face. Finally, she
asked, “Why is it that you still look exactly the same as the very
day I met you? You are, after all, a sixty-seven-year-old man.”

It was Baltor’s turn to pause … finally,
nearly a minute later, he confessed, “The truth of it all is that I
am an immortal…I will never grow old, nor will I ever die. What
other ‘strange rumors’ have you heard about me that you haven’t
ever revealed?”

Instead of answering his question, she asked,
“How did your immortality come to be?”

“It has been this way since before we met,”
he answered evenly. “As for how it all happened, I cannot tell you,
as I was sworn to secrecy by the one who made me into what I
am…”

“I see,” she sighed. “Perhaps this is the
reason I was never able to get pregnant, yes?”