Book I of III: The Swords of the Sultan (19 page)

“Yes, Mistress Tricia—I was in my chemistry
class, which was nearly halfway over for the day. Actually, it was
quite fortunate for everyone in the class that Instructor Qels had
just begun reading from the next chapter on acid making, when
everything and everybody got unexpectedly thrown violently about
for nearly ten minutes. To explain the reason I say it’s quite
fortunate was because we had been experimenting with the powerful
acidic solution taught and tested in the previous chapter, the very
day before. We could have all been blown to bits!”

Even though Baltor’s answer wasn’t supposed
to be funny, several of the High Council members actually did find
it to be humorous and began to chuckle quietly.

Not only did Tricia not chuckle, nor look
amused, yet she looked sharply to her left and to her right at all
seated around her, which silenced all laughers immediately.

Only then did she reveal, “As a result of
that earthquake, not only was there a lot of structural damage too
many of our buildings, as well our harbor, yet dozens of our
underground tunnels had also become sealed or unsealed.”

After sucking in a deep breath, she
half-sang, “Interestingly enough, two and a half months ago, our
clean-up crew discovered about a third of a mile underground,
hidden behind a previously-sealed tunnel that became unsealed, a
gigantic underground cavern with a lagoon within. The Guild did not
know of this cavern’s existence before. Located on the other side
of the lagoon, there rests a three-foot tall white pedestal, which
bears nine pictograms of stars that range from three to
twelve.”

She paused again, this time for about fifteen
seconds so that he could digest all that information. Then she
revealed, “Additionally, we discovered the top half to a very
interesting map which rested on top of the pedestal. The Guild has
already tested and determined that both objects are at least a
thousand years old.

“As for the bottom half, someone had
intentionally cut the bottom half off into a zigzagging puzzle
piece right after the map’s construction, most likely the mapmaker.
Despite all our best investigative searches into all the
surrounding tunnels, some that we had to unseal, we could not find
any more pedestals, nor could we find the second half to the map
anywhere.

“The first reason that this particular map is
so important is because it reveals just about the entire upper half
of the geographical world we dwell upon, which must mean that the
second half reveals the entire lower half of the world…

“Before I continue with the briefing, Baltor,
do you know why this type of map could be very useful and important
to the Guild?”

“I believe I do, my Mistress,” Baltor
answered. “Because there has never before been produced a world
map, or so we previously thought?”

She answered, “Exactly—more than two-thirds
of the upper half of the map we currently possess is still
uncharted, as the Sultan and his ancestral family have become
extremely rich and powerful by focusing all the activities of the
empire’s cities only on trade with other extremely rich cities and
seaports from other continents. They were certainly not doing any
major conquests, or at the very minimum, the serious exploration of
our own continent, which I think is quite sad and pathetic. For
these reasons alone, we wonder often why he bothers to call himself
a Sultan at all!”

Once she had concluded that
question/statement/joke, most of the High Council began to
chuckle.

This time, unlike the first time, she began
to chuckle along with them, while looking highly amused at the
other members—Baltor didn’t laugh, look amused, or even speak.

A few moments later, Tricia looked back at
Baltor with a serious expression. She continued, “The second reason
that this map is important is because there is a small five-pointed
star drawn on the map, which is typically indicative of a capital
city, located exactly in the same spot as Pavelus. Though there are
no other stars of any kind drawn upon the map, there are dozens of
other dots, indicative of cities, spread throughout the entire
continent. This authenticated map certainly proves that our city is
much more ancient than historians have falsely presumed and taught
for the last five hundred years.”

Tricia paused yet again, clearing her throat.
This time, instead of continuing, she turned her head to the left,
and asked, “Will you please continue on in the briefing, Master
Fargot? My voice is getting a bit tired.”

“I’d be delighted to, Mistress Tricia,”
Fargot answered in a showman’s voice. He looked at Baltor and said,
“The third and main reason why this map is so important to the
Guild is because there is a pictogram of a tower within the center
of an unnamed vast jungle far to the east, lying beyond both the
equally vast Sharia Desert and Bospa Mountains.

“More than a thousand miles away, this tower
supposedly exists. But that’s not all—drawn within the tower
itself, there is a drawn ‘X.’ if you’re not already aware, ‘X’
typically marks the spot for a treasure on a map…”

Though Baltor nodded, Fargot still paused to
let him digest that information for about ten seconds.

Fargot next revealed, “Finally, there is a
message written just to the side of the map in an ancient script
that has already been translated by one of our expert translators.
For the last five years, he has had in his possession a poetry book
written in the same runic language and era, and written by an
unknown author. By the way, just in case you’re wondering, this
nearly useless-and-tattered poetry book that I speak of is entitled
Love, Peace, and Joy
.

“Now, regarding the message on the map, it
says, and I quote, ‘The Rod of Ro’shain has unspeakable magical
power, but it must be used wisely by only the chosen one. If one
condition is not met, then the wrath of the gods shall utterly
destroy.’”

After a short pause, Fargot then shrugged his
shoulders and said, “As Mistress Tricia stated earlier, the other
half was ripped long ago—therefore, the Guild regrettably does not
know what else was said, Baltor.”

Baltor remained silent.

Right away, Tricia cast a look over to
Fargot, and asked, “My voice is much better now, Master
Fargot—would you mind if I concluded the briefing, please?”

“I do not mind, Mistress Tricia. By all
means, please proceed.”

Tricia next briefed, “There are two more
subjects we need to cover. The first subject is that you will most
likely be traveling thousands of miles, which will take you many
years until your return to Pavelus, if ever…

“The final subject is that there has never
been any tangible proof that magic even exists, despite the
centuries the Guild has sought, captured and tested supposed
magical religious artifacts and tomes out from all over the world,
sadly enough. In my opinion, we should only be focusing upon
treasures of gold and jewels instead of wasting our time on magical
mumbo-jumbo.”

Many of the other Council members were
nodding in agreement, but a few shook their heads negatively.

Tricia concluded, “Therefore, even if both
the tower and the rod should happen to still exist if what this
mapmaker says is true, this unusual quest will most likely prove to
be a big waste of your time.” With another nonchalant shrug to her
shoulders, she asked, “So now that I’ve concluded with my briefing,
are you interested in such a quest?”

As Baltor scanned the crowd, he replied, “Not
only shall I find this tower if it still exists, but I shall
recover the rod, if that too exists.” His eyes, in the next moment,
rested upon Lydia, noting that she had been silently looking at him
without expression. He stared back for still another moment without
emotions evident.

Tricia instantly drew his attention back to
her, as she asked, “Even though this quest may literally take you
years to accomplish?”

Baltor answered with a question, “Will I be
allowed to take a good look at the pedestal, the map, and the
poetry book? Will I also be given enough supplies to at least get
me through the formidable desert: a weapon of my choice, some form
of reliable transportation, plenty of water and dried rations, and
one hundred parsecs, so I can buy all the other traveling supplies
I’ll need?”

She answered, “Yes, we shall oblige you in
all those things you requested.”

“Then my answer is yes, my Mistress, I shall
take the quest.”

Tricia replied with an elated tone of voice,
“Excellent. Tomorrow morning at nine, Varce will meet you at your
quarters. Varce is not only in possession of the poetry book and
your duplicate copy of the map, yet he shall be your translator,
teacher, and your guide to the guarded location of the pedestal.
When he arrives, the two of you will arrange your busy schedules
around each other for the next week—only when Varce is with you can
you visit the pedestal, or view the book and map. Next Moonday, you
shall depart with your own duplicate of the map. Show the map to no
one and defend it with your life. Understood?”

“Yes, my Mistress,” Baltor replied. He stood
back onto his feet, bowed one last time before the High Council,
and turned to leave. Once he had neared the double doors the guards
had opened for him, he heard Tricia call out his name.

He turned around, and asked, “Yes, my
Mistress?”

“Tell absolutely no one about the details of
this top, top, top secret mission either.”

“I won’t, my Mistress.”

For about thirty hours the following week in
the library, Varce gave Baltor a crash course in interpreting the
strange-looking runic language, though there wasn’t a lot to work
with. Just about twenty holding-on-by-a-thread pages of poetic
material that contained less than a thousand words—for a language
that could possibly contain millions.

The following week, Varce took Baltor to the
cavern for the very first time—of course; they had to pass the two
non-uniformed guards, whose orders came from the High Council only
to allow these two men to enter.

Upon entering, Baltor surprisingly discovered
that this cavern was twice the size of the training cavern—its
natural beauties mesmerized him for the first minute or so. Even
more astonishing was the fact that not a single rock or stone
within the entire cavern had dropped from the earthquake, except
for right around the very entrance itself.

Also adding to the beauties was a very lush
and green mildew spread thickly upon all the stalactites,
stalagmites, and even the ground surrounding this large and
obscurely shaped lagoon that nearly took up half the cavern.

Far out of reach of the potentially damaging
properties of the mildew rested the white pedestal, which was
exactly as Tricia had described.

The remainder of Baltor’s time, when not
sleeping, eating, training, or shopping, was spent in this cavern
with Varce—learning, studying, observing, fiddling, and/or
experimenting, though there were no secrets discovered with the
pedestal, which was a bit disappointing to the both of them on
their eleven different appointments.

Not disappointing at all to Baltor, he spent
these occasions learning a whole lot of other useful information,
besides the strange language taught by Varce, of who was an
unbelievably intelligent man in his early fifties.

Near the end of their final appointment at
the library, the day before Baltor’s scheduled departure, Varce
finally confided that he would have gladly taken the mission had he
been twenty years younger. Baltor didn’t know what to say, so he
just shrugged his shoulders.

Varce simply laughed, and said, “Well, I must
be off, young man. Good luck to you in your quest!”

“Thank you, sir, I sincerely appreciate the
help,” Baltor said.

“No problem. Take care,” Varce said just
before he bowed, turned around, and exited the library.

Baltor exited too, heading for the bunkhouse.
There, he ate his dinner, lay down, and closed his eyes to go to
sleep. After all, he had to wake up very early in the morning.

Only seconds before he had drifted off to
sleep, a girl bearing a sealed-with-wax scroll in her right hand
arrived at his bunk.

In a hushed voice, she ordered, “Baltor, wake
up. I have an important message for you to read, which comes
directly from the High Council.”

By this time, Baltor had not only sat up in
bed, yet he had his right hand extended. She handed him the scroll,
and once he had firmly gripped it, she released it. Instantly,
Baltor observed that the wax bore the official emblem of the
Guild.

While she waited, he cracked the wax, opened
the scroll, and silently read:

We—The High Council—have voted and deemed,
that because of your usage of the word “weapon” and not “weapons”
during your briefing, you are to only begin your mission with only
one weapon—a weapon of your choice from amongst our massive
arsenal.

Sell or give away any other weapons you may
have purchased, other than any knives with a blade of three and a
half inches or less—do not try to sneak any other weapons.

Once you have finished reading the last word
of this letter, go to the weapons’ racks, pick the weapon of your
choice, and give that weapon to this delivery girl—she will ensure
that it is strapped onto the mode of transportation we have
selected for you, as well our other promised supplies.

In part, we do apologize for any
inconveniences this may have caused you, but really, you should
think of this all as we do—a challenge!

Good luck with your top-secret mission!

Masters and Mistresses of the High
Council
.

The second after he had completed reading the
letter, he nonchalantly folded it up and gave it back to the
girl.

He next rose to his feet, put on his
trousers, belt, socks and boots, and unlocked and opened his wall
locker. He pulled out a brand new bow and sheath carrying forty
arrows.