Book I of III: The Swords of the Sultan (5 page)

It seemed as if an eternity had passed before
the student finally saw the torch light ahead. Unfortunately, as he
came to discover, the light came from the bunkhouse.

Once they finally had gotten to the training
area, perhaps hours later, Humonus pointed, while howling, “Now I
want you to follow that trail marker and run through this obstacle
course as fast as you possibly can! Move it—move it—move it!”

After observing a chiseled line in the ground
with an arrow pointing in the direction he needed to run, the boy
ran at top speed.

The first obstacle that he came across was a
knotted rope that reached all the way up to the ceiling; not
surprisingly, his muscles were so fatigued from the day before that
he could only climb up halfway, about twenty five feet, and that
was it—despite the outraged protests, and curses, from his drill
instructor.

Eventually, Humonus yelled up, “Get the hell
down and move on—you sluggish puke!”

As the boy climbed back down, luck was with
him that he didn’t fall because of his already fatigued and sore
muscles. Once he hit the ground, which felt like hitting a ton of
bricks, he then ran down the chiseled line and up to the next
obstacle—a rope that gradually angled its way up to a platform some
forty feet high!

“How do I—” the boy tried to ask, only to be
interrupted.

“Turn yourself around, slide your legs over
the rope, and pull yourself with your arms and legs up to the
top—do it!” the drill instructor screamed.

Doing as instructed, it took the boy about
ten minutes before he finally reached the top. He was completely
out of breath, his heart raced frantically, and sweat soaked his
body.

The drill instructor shouted from the ground,
“Climb down the ladder and move on to the next obstacle—you’re not
done!”

As Baltor ran to the next obstacle, he saw
that he had to leap across a circular pit that spanned about ten
feet in diameter, which had a rope hanging from the ceiling—once
there, he leapt and successfully grabbed the rope.

The momentum allowed him to swing to the far
end, and once on the other side, he dropped to the ground. Turning
back around in shock, he confirmed that this pit was
bottomless!

“Well, what are you waiting for? Homlick
Day?” Humonus snarled.

Baltor continued to run down the chiseled
line. Ahead, he saw six bags of varying sizes that hung from metal
railings, which automatically swung back and forth, but at
different rotating speeds.

Upon getting closer, he observed that the
bags were connected to a bunch of interconnected mechanical gears
that somehow maintained a continuous motion.

He was able to slip pass the first two bags,
but the third one smacked into him unexpectedly hard—the impact
caused him to crash into the ground, painfully, and see shooting
stars!

The drill instructor was all over the boy, as
he ranted and raved and spitted, “How in the hell are you supposed
to be a thief if you can’t even make it through my obstacle course?
Well?”

As more stars appeared in the boy’s field of
vision, as well gobs of spit flying on his face, he tried to
answer, “Well, sir… I’m—I’m trying…the best that I can.”

“You need a hell of a lot more work!” Humonus
retorted. With a point of his index finger, he ordered, “Get some
water from the lunch table over there…and eat some fruit. You’ll
get a fifteen-minute break before we begin the next training
exercise.”

Just after the drill instructor had turned
and begun to walk away, he stopped—without looking back, he said
without an ounce of compassion, “Oh, if you want to quit because
you can’t handle my training anymore—you might as well fall into
that pit you just swung across.”

The boy said not a word—instead, he stumbled
himself over to the table, picked up the pitcher and drank. His
poor body ached beyond comprehension and his mind was completely
exhausted—yet the day had only just started.

If it’s even day
…. he silently mused
to himself while taking another drink.

He began to get very exasperated as he
thought aloud, “What in the hell have I gotten myself into? At
least before, I was free. Definitely not wealthy, certainly
homeless, but still, at least I was free! Maybe I should just jump
into the pit and end my agony.”

Yet, another voice inside the boy’s head
countered, sounding suspiciously like his mother,
No,
Baltor! You will not give up! Look at everything else you’ve
survived! And now—now you’ve been given the chance to succeed, my
baby boy!

Those new and encouraging thoughts seemed to
stimulate Baltor, and at least for the moment, he no longer felt
any pain or frustration whatsoever.

Reality, however, abruptly pulled him from
his thoughts as an all-too-familiar voice screamed out, “Your
break’s up. You were too slow and too weak during your last
exercise! Let’s see you try again!”

With a zeal that the boy had never known
before, he roared out, “Yes, sir!”

He bolted down the chiseled line, leapt high
for the rope ladder, caught it at eight feet in the air, climbed
his way all the way to the top, and then made his way back
down.

Refusing any negative thoughts that might
break “his concentration,” he pushed himself through the next two
obstacles, meeting them both with success. Finally, he knew that
his next obstacle was the swinging bags.

As he began to draw near, he mentally noted
the time it took for the first bag to cross from one side to the
other—approximately six seconds. By the time he approached the
obstacle, he had also noted that the second bag was a bit smaller
yet only took three seconds each way.

The boy stopped right before the first bag,
waited for it to pass, and then entered its path. The second bag
crossed and he rushed six steps forward, in between the second and
the third bag.

The third bag was even bigger than the first
bag but only took seconds to cross—it was on its way back—and as he
waited for it to pass, he observed that the fourth bag was a lot
smaller and faster than all of the other bags, taking only a second
for each direction. He couldn’t make out how big or how fast the
fifth bag was going.

Once the third bag had crossed yet again, the
boy instantly leapt toward the ground, tucked into a tight
somersault, and rolled right underneath the third and fourth
bags—his right shoulder began to ache.

Without pause, he stood himself straight up,
so that the fifth bag wouldn’t clobber him. This bag was very big
and slow, with an estimated time of nine seconds to swing each
direction.

However, the boy also observed that the sixth
bag was the same size and speed as the fourth bag, but with one
noticeable difference. The frame that held the final bag was built
much lower to the ground, so rolling underneath it would be
impossible.

Once the fifth bag was clear, the boy leapt,
but this time straight up! He successfully grabbed the frame above
him. He pulled the rest of his body up and over, and then he safely
dropped to the ground on the other side. It was then that he
observed that the chiseled line/path continued onward.

“Well?” Humonus shrieked, “Keep going!”

Baltor pushed onward with all he had. He soon
observed that the chiseled line appeared to lead him up to a sheer
cliff face. Even as he drew closer and closer, he observed that
there was no ladder for him to climb and very few decent
hand-or-foot holds. Yet looking up, about forty feet up, he
confirmed that there was a mouth of a tunnel way up there.

About four feet from the ground, he spotted a
rock that slightly jutted out from the cliff face—he clasped it
with his left hand and then leaned himself into the wall.

He soon scanned a tiny crack in the wall
about two feet above that—he reached for it with his right hand,
while trying to pull his body up. Again, he was successful with his
attempt.

The boy next lifted up his left leg, and then
placed it onto the next rock, while pivoting his entire body again
so that the whole of his body weight rested on his left side, and
then he looked for the next handhold.

There was another crack, but it was a good
three feet up and about four feet to the right. With all of the
elasticity he could muster, he reached for it.

This time, unfortunately, he missed the
handhold and fell to the ground—his knee smashed into the pebbled
earth first, which sent shooting pains up his knee and throughout
the rest of his body!

Despite the pounding pain in his kneecap, he
heard his drill instructor once again screaming right in his ear,
“Come on, you weakling! Get the hell up there!”

With tears now steadily flowing down his
cheeks, both from the pain and the frustration, the boy turned his
head to face his drill instructor. “I can’t! What you ask is
impossible!”

Humonus began to laugh like a crazed
maniac.

“Damn you to hell!” The boy screamed as he
tried to wipe the muddy tears away.

With lightning speed that defied the laws of
physics, the drill instructor had already pinched his dagger into
the boy’s neck, slightly drawing blood. He hissed, “The next time
you curse me like that, boy, I will kill you….”

Frightened out of his wits, Baltor could say
or do nothing.

After a few moments, the drill instructor
finally put his knife away behind his back, before saying
nonchalantly, “This time, however, I will show you how to make the
impossible—possible.”

With that, Humonus took a few steps back,
leapt over the boy, and then climbed the wall with ease, almost as
if he were walking on the ground. It had taken him ten seconds to
accomplish this astounding feat, while the student watched in total
amazement.

From up above, the drill instructor ordered,
“Now climb on up here, boy.”

Trying to follow suit, the boy was able to
scale the wall successfully, though it took him more than four
minutes.

Once he stood on solid ground inside the
tunnel, the drill instructor simply shook his head balefully, as he
informed, “You need much, much, much more work—now continue
on.”

The boy answered, “Yes, sir!” He then bolted
ahead, quickly discovering that this very windy tunnel not only
twisted right and left, yet up and down.

Forty seconds later, he finally made it to
the end, just before scanning his horizons. He saw the rope with
the knots in it that he had first climbed, but it was more than
twenty feet away!

From behind him, he heard his drill
instructor order, “Back off a bit, run, and then jump for it!”

Baltor sucked in a deep breath in order to
regain a control over his fears—the fear of heights and the fear of
plummeting to his death. Even though it didn’t work, he still
backed off as ordered, ran forward at top speed, and then jumped at
the last second.

Whether it was luck or skill, the boy did not
know or care, but he was quite relieved when he saw himself flying
straight toward the rope … and even more relieved when his hands
gripped the rope securely!

From all of his momentum, the rope swung
about seven feet out, but he had already wrapped his legs around
it.

Seconds later, once the rope had finally
settled, the boy climbed his way down knot-by-knot and waited. He
was out of breath, soaked with sweat, and worst of all, he was
exhausted beyond comprehension.

As for his drill instructor, he climbed down
the rope with ease.

Baltor saw that this man hadn’t even broken a
sweat—not even on his forehead!

As Humonus began to shake his head balefully,
his words confirmed, “You need a hell of a lot more work. It took
you more than fifteen minutes to complete this course. Next time, I
want you to accomplish it in under five minutes.”

Still out of breath, the boy replied,
“Yes…sir…”

“Take a half an hour lunch, and then we shall
commence to doing some more physical exercises for the rest of the
afternoon,” the drill instructor concluded, just before walking
away.

“Yes, sir!” Baltor slowly and painfully made
his way over to the lunch table, and began to munch on a loaf of
wheat bread.

“So,” Lydia most unexpectedly asked from
behind him, “how are you enjoying it here?”

Too exhausted to jump and do another
one-eighty even though he was still startled, he turned around, and
answered with a small portion of food still inside his mouth, “It’s
tough and I don’t think I’m doing so well, if you want to know the
truth.”

She laughed melodiously for a second, before
answering, “That’s all I’ve ever asked of you, Baltor. As for you
not doing so well—nobody does well in the beginning. Remember
this….soon enough, any and all challenges will eventually be
overcome. And also remember this—success is a road that you must
pave.”

The boy pondered her information for a
moment. “Did you have to go through all of this yourself?”

“Yes, I did,” Lydia answered. “As if you
can’t tell already, I’m not exactly from around here…at the tender
age of twelve, I was kidnapped from my parents and home in a land
far away from here and kept as a slave. After nearly a year of me
riding in one of their cages going from town to town, I was bought.
Unfortunately, the one who bought me would beat me senseless
whenever I didn’t do as he commanded.”

“You were a slave?” Baltor asked in
disbelief. “Then who was your master?”

Lydia replied, “I was one of the Sultan’s
harem girls.”

The boy looked at her in both shock and
wonder! “How did you escape? Doesn’t he still look for you?”

“In answer to your first question, I escaped
with the help of one of the Sultan’s generals,” she answered.

A wistful look suddenly appeared in her eyes,
as she revealed, “He had, upon seeing me for the first time in the
Sultan’s private quarters, immediately fallen in love with me. I
didn’t find any of this out until several months later when he told
me of his feelings and delivered a potion for me to drink. He then
explained that its effects would only simulate death, but that I
would return to normal within twenty-four hours. He promised me
that he would take good care of me, if I wished.”