Book I of III: The Swords of the Sultan (2 page)

Once so, he proceeded his way to the bazaar
located on the main strip. His stomach grumbled in anger yet again,
as it demanded food!

Upon reaching the bazaar, perhaps ten minutes
later, he observed with relief that a few of the merchants hadn’t
yet finished setting out all their wares. Nor were there any gang
members or guards patrolling about—yet. The one thing he wasn’t
happy about was that this place was already getting pretty packed
full of shoppers.

He had already begun walking close by the
tented stalls, while always keeping his head locked straight ahead.
His eyes carefully scanned all around for the right moment when a
vendor had his or her head turned away—most were looking right
back. Located between each stall, he also happened to see and/or
hear an entertainer, or two, or three, ranging from jugglers of
sharp weapons, to singers, to musicians playing all types of
musical instruments. Why, several musicians were blowing exotic
tunes from their horns in front of swaying king cobras.

“The moment” came, and as quick as a cobra
strikes, Baltor’s hand had already tucked a half-pound cooked
sausage link into his shirt. As he walked away from the stall, he
prayed that no one had witnessed his act—his heart continued to
beat rapidly.

Luck wasn’t with the boy this time—perhaps
thirty seconds after the theft, he first felt a hand clamp hard
onto his shoulder from behind, and then he heard a woman who had a
strong foreign accent exclaim, “Hey there, boy!”

Without looking, he slipped out of her grip,
and took off like a bat out of hell.

After reaching the next intersection only ten
seconds later, he turned right off the main strip, ran to the next
intersection of this semi-busy street, turned left into a small
alleyway filled with tons of clothes hanging on dozens of
clotheslines, and then made another right onto the very next street
without looking both ways.

Baltor almost became “road kill,” but in the
nick of time, he jumped back from the first pair of galloping
horses carrying soldiers! These men wore polished swords, helmets
and armor, and black capes bearing the gold emblem of crossed
sabers—the symbol of the Sultan.

While the stampede continued to pass, Baltor
tried his best to look calm and casual as he hurried on over to the
sidewalk. However, due to the earlier running, his breath had
turned ragged while sweat poured down his head, face and body. Even
worse, thanks to the dust that the horses had just kicked up,
coupled with all the accumulated sweat, caused it all to cling to
him like mud.

Once the last pair of soldiers had passed,
sixty of them in total, he coughed out quite a bit of the dust that
had gotten into his lungs before turning around and walking.

As he breathed a small sigh of relief, he
wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand—this
action caused a mud-like substance to smear on both areas, though
he didn’t care.

After scanning his horizons one final time
and observing that the coast was clear, he pulled out a chunk of
the sausage and began to munch. Already had he begun to look for an
animal trough to quench his ever-growing thirst.

Just after he had swallowed the first bite of
salty meat, he heard that same woman sing from behind him, “Where
are you running off to so fast?”

Frightened out of his wits, he nearly jumped
three feet into the air. The moment he landed back on the ground,
he had already performed a complete one-hundred-eighty-degree turn,
and he could now see, for the first time, the young woman with the
accent.

Holy moley! You are the prettiest thing
I’ve ever seen
….

True, her complexion was white as a ghost,
but she had a beautiful face, sea-blue eyes and golden-blond hair
that gently cascaded all the way down to her waist. As for her
stylish attire, she wore a pair of shiny-blue, knee-high boots that
had a strip of white fur sewn around the top, which met up with a
snug pair of white, silky breeches. Despite the
black-and-blue-striped cape of silk that gracefully draped over her
shoulders, clasped together by a jeweled broach, the
v-necked/silvery tunic she wore underneath revealed a small portion
of her full cleavage.

Everything about this gal, perhaps only a
foot taller and a handful of years older than the boy, was
wonderful and exotic and beautiful; and couple that with the fact
that he was still startled from her most-unexpected appearance for
the second time, all he could do was to continue to stare in
awe.

After an unknown amount of time had passed,
as the two stared each other in the eyes, she was the first one to
ask, “Well? Aren’t you going to answer my question?”

“What question?”

“Where are you running off to so fast?”

“Umm—” he lied, “you have me mistaken for
someone else.”

She unexpectedly began to laugh for a handful
of seconds, before abruptly stopping with her laughter and saying
without an ounce of doubt, “Nope, no mistake.”

“Listen, lady,” he countered, sounding just
as serious, “You do have me mistaken for someone else, so if
there’s anything else—”

With a wag of her index finger, once to the
right and once to the left, the gal interrupted, “Fine. Maybe I’m
mistaken—maybe I’m not. Open up your shirt and prove that you don’t
have a link of sausage in there. If I’m mistaken, then I will
apologize and go. Deal?”

His gaze darted around as he lied, “Trust
me—I don’t have—”

As if reading his very thoughts, she
interrupted, “Don’t even think about running again, boy, for if you
do, not only will I catch you yet again, I’ll turn you into the
guards myself.”

“Well, fine,” he sighed in resignation. “I’ll
show you what I have in my shirt.”

Slowly he began to reveal the remaining link
of sausage tucked inside. Halfway through, she gestured with her
index finger to tuck it back, while saying, “There you go, all you
had to do was tell me the truth.”

After considering her statement for a single
second, Baltor easily explained the full truth: “I am an orphan. I
am homeless. I do what I have to do to stay alive—there’s your
truth! So if you’re not going to turn me in, then what is it you
want?”

The gal laughed merrily yet again! Perhaps
because of her laughter, for the very first time in the boy’s life,
not only did something strange, unexplainable and pleasant stir
within the pits of his stomach, his heart began to race and his
mind began to swoon.

As the wind unexpectedly threw her cape up
into the air, which wind also caused a lengthy portion of her
golden hair to blow over her eyes, she cast a friendly smile before
introducing herself, “My name is Lady Lydia. You seem to have some
remarkably quick talents, young man. Oh, and by the way, what’s
your name?”

“I am Baltor,” he tried to say but found his
voice getting raspy from being very thirsty, especially because he
had eaten that salty meat and was now standing there in the middle
of the street with the very hot sun beating down.

As if reading the boy’s mind again, Lydia’s
eyes spotted a nondescript building made of sandstone just down the
street, which had a wooden sign hanging above a door that read
Myrkshia’s Family Restaurant and Tavern
. She suggested
aloud, “Would you like to get something to eat and drink,
Baltor?”

The boy nodded his head.

“Good,” Lydia chimed, just before she spun
her body the opposite way in one surprisingly swift movement. This
action caused both her hair and cape to fly all about for a few
additional seconds.

Once both objects had resettled, she cocked
just her head around, smiled and said, “Follow me, Baltor.”

Without waiting for an answer, she looked
forward and began walking toward the restaurant. He followed.

In about a minute or so, the two entered the
restaurant with her in the lead. While following behind, the boy
observed that this cozy establishment was packed of full of noisy
patrons. In fact, there was only one empty booth left that sat in
the left-hand corner. He continued to follow her toward that
booth.

A bald man—who was standing behind the bar,
wearing a clean apron, and washing glasses—happened to look up a
couple seconds later, observed the boy, and yelled over the din of
the patrons, “Hey there, you filthy rat! You need to leave
now!”

Everyone in the place instantly quieted as he
or she turned to look with disgust or shock at the “filthy
rat.”

Lydia stopped in her tracks, looked over at
the bartender, and flipped back her cape with her right hand,
revealing a plum-sized leather bag hanging from a string on the
back of her belt.

As she began to shake the bag around with the
same hand, jingling a whole lot of coins, she replied just as
casually, “The boy’s with me.”

The man’s eyes bulged at the sight of the bag
of coins, just before he sighed. “Fine, fine.”

The chatter in the room picked back up even
before the two had taken the booth.

Not even two seconds later, a middle-aged
waitress approached. With both a chipper tone and a smile, she
asked, “Top of the morning to the both of you—so, what’ll it
be?”

After Lydia had turned to look at the
waitress, she politely said with a smile, “Two glasses of cold
water, and two orders of a breakfast type of food that won’t take
long to serve, please.”

“No problem,” the waitress said. She
immediately left to place their order with the cooks, retrieve
their drinks, and then hand a bill over to an elderly couple that
had just completed their meals.

Nearly ten seconds after she was gone, Lydia
slid forward in her seat, and then she said in just above a
whisper, “I noticed that you displayed not only unusual skills, but
you’re also unusually quick. And despite all that muddy dirt
currently hiding you away, I can tell that you’ll one day become
quite an attractive young man.”

Baltor didn’t know what to say, so he just
simply shrugged.

She asked, “What do you think about the idea
of getting some help by enhancing those skills?”

Instead of answering her question, he asked
his own, “Why in the hell would you want to help me?”

Just then, the serving girl returned with two
empty mugs and a pitcher that contained both chilled water and ice
cubes. After setting everything down on the table, she left to take
the order of three new customers—two ladies and a small boy—who had
all taken seats at the far end of the restaurant.

Instead of answering Baltor’s question, Lydia
picked up the pitcher, filled both glasses, set the pitcher back
down, picked up her glass, and took a small drink. Without
hesitation, he took his glass and drank.

He was quite delighted that this icy water
was quite delicious, refreshing and clean—not like the warm and
dirty water from animal troughs that he drank ninety-nine percent
of the time. That water was extremely yucky in his opinion.

After taking two more small sips, she said in
just above a whisper, “I want to help you for two reasons. First, I
have a soft heart for those in need. Second, you have the rough
skills that once developed and refined, could make you a master
thief like me.” Upon conclusion, she allowed a mischievous smile to
cross her face.

Using loud tones, he blurted out, “You’re a—”
Catching himself before he could utter the final word to his
question, which “word” would certainly get them both into a heap of
trouble, he mouthed out the word, “—thief?”

Lydia, who had already been observing the
waitress’s approach, remained silent until after the waitress had
deposited the food and left. With a lingering smile still on her
face, she finally asked, “Surprised?”

“Wow—not in a million years would I ever have
guessed that,” the hungry boy whispered, picking up his spoon.
Without looking down, he scooped a portion of the porridge and took
a bite—quite tasty, as he happily discovered.

“That,” she added, “is exactly what makes me
a master.”

He glanced down at his food and began eating.
The more he ate, the more he realized how hungry he was!

Lydia didn’t eat a bite but stared in silence
at Baltor. Whenever he looked up at her, she threw sweet
smiles.

Even though the boy’s mouth was continuously
refilling with food, his mind was in awe—he couldn’t believe that
this incredibly beautiful woman was actually a master thief!
However, he could believe that she was looking out for him, and the
more he thought about his future, or the lack thereof, the more he
wanted to agree to her proposal.

The second that he had finished his bowl of
food, she asked, “Would you like this bowl, as well?”

He gave her a sweet smile, answering,
“Please.”

She slid it across the table. He picked it up
right away and began to slurp down all of the contents. At the end
of breakfast, which had a grand timeframe of a minute and
twenty-five seconds, he agreed, “Okay. I’ll do it.”

After nodding her head one single time, Lydia
replied with an elated smile, “Perfect. Then we’ll begin your
special training in one hour—after of course, we get to our next
destination, which, by the way, is
top secret
to your little
ears at this time. So please don’t ask me where we’re going. In
fact, just keep your mouth shut the whole time and let me do the
talking if the need should arise. Your food should have had enough
time to digest by the time we arrive.”

As the waitress was just about to pass by,
Lydia looked on over and asked, “Waitress…check, please?”

After paying the bill with a decent tip and
exiting the restaurant, Lydia led Baltor through three different
sections of the city, displaying her ID to the guards posted at the
checkpoints.

He really found it strange that the guards
treated her with such a high amount of respect, especially after
the way he’d seen the guards treat others, including himself! With
her, however, they bowed low and called out, “You may pass, my
lady.”