Book I of III: The Swords of the Sultan (55 page)

Just after the sun had set about forty
minutes later, Baltor awoke feeling famished! Without haste, he set
his hat onto the bag, and booked out of camp at top speed.

As Baltor was starving, his single mission
was to scour the area out for fresh animal blood. Very fortunate
for him, it only took four and a half minutes to track down and
capture a fox, seven more minutes to consume its blood, fifteen
minutes to track a sheep down and consume that, and fifteen minutes
to get back to camp.

By the time he had returned, feeling a little
better but still a little hungry, he saw that the camp was now
fully set up with a tent and a campfire. Furthermore, a metallic
tripod grill stood over the fire itself, which grill held a small,
black cauldron that had steam pouring out. He didn’t see either
girl, but Humonus was continuously stirring something in the
cauldron with a large spoon.

“Where’d you go, Baltor?” Humonus asked,
while looking over.

“I checked the area out for about a mile
every direction. Area’s clear.”

“Great,” was Humonus’s even reply. “Dinner
will be ready in an hour…my secret-recipe chicken stew tonight! Oh,
and in case you’re wondering, the girls are reorganizing the
wagon.”

“Perfect,” Baltor said contentedly, before
plopping down near the fire and relaxing.

Nearly an hour later, they all silently ate
the stew, because it turned out to be that delicious—food,
unfortunately, that did nothing to quench Baltor’s hunger pains!
Thus, when no one was looking, he tied a strip of cloth tightly
around his waist, under his shirt.

After everyone but Baltor had drunk a few
rounds of ale, coupled with some light and pleasant conversations,
Humonus, Brishava and Chelsea went to sleep in the tent.

All night long, Baltor stayed awake and
guarded their camp, which night passed on by without incident.

About an hour before sunrise, after Baltor
had cooked breakfast of eggs and bacon in a frying pan, he woke
everyone up by announcing, “Breakfast!”

Following breakfast, in which Baltor was the
only one still very, very hungry even though he ate, they began to
break camp. Once complete, he climbed into the back of the wagon,
put on his sleeping clothes and hat, and fell asleep the very
second the sun rose.

As soon as the rest of the group was ready to
go, only a minute after the sun had risen on this beautiful day
without any clouds, they continued their journey east. Early that
evening, they stopped at another place that Humonus thought looked
good to camp at.

Sometime after they had set up camp, between
then and the time that Baltor awoke right at sunset, he had a
strange dream, though he could not recall any of the details except
for one—there was a huge white bear involved.

When he awoke right after sunset and climbed
out the wagon, he saw that Humonus lay on the ground nearby with
his eyes closed, and then he noticed that there were several
additional layers of clothing wrapped around his chest and back.
The girls were kneeling on either side of him.

Upon seeing the pained expression upon
Humonus’s face, Baltor asked with great concern, “What the hell
happened? You all right?” It was only then when he inhaled that he
smelled iron in the air.

Humonus first slowly opened his eyes, and
then slowly turned his head until he faced Baltor. With pain etched
into his quiet voice, he began to explain, “While you were asleep
about thirty minutes ago, Brishava and Chelsea had left to take a
bath in the lagoon located nearby…”

After painfully wincing aloud, he said,
“Meanwhile, I was happily roasting a couple of rabbits for our
dinner tonight, and stupidly wasn’t paying attention to my
surroundings.”

At this point in Humonus’s story, he was
forced to take a lengthy pause, due to yet another painful spasm in
his chest.

Therefore, Chelsea who had already heard the
story, continued, “A giant white bear also smelled the meat Humonus
was cooking. Not even ten minutes ago, it quietly entered the camp
directly right behind Humonus, at which point he was turning the
skew right next to the fire, and then he said that—”

Humonus, who had just put his hand on
Chelsea’s arm to silence her, then weakly interrupted, “That by the
time I turned around, the bear was on all fours about three feet
away from where I stood, while the fire pit was only about two feet
behind me.”

He took another lengthy pause, and just as
Chelsea was about to continue in the story, he pointed his index
finger up into the air for her to remain silent.

About twenty seconds later, he finally
continued, “In the next moment, I attempted to nicely shoo him away
as he was on all fours, but he wouldn’t go away—no matter what!

“Not three seconds later, he decides to get
mad at me, probably because I was standing in the way of the food,
and he rears back onto his hind paws, growing to fifteen feet tall
while growling angrily at me.”

When Humonus took still another lengthy
pause, Chelsea didn’t say anything this time, nor did anyone
else.

Perhaps ten seconds later, he finally
continued, “By this time, I realized that I was in serious danger,
and I thought had already planned out a good solution to this
problem—I was oh so very wrong!”

Upon hearing all of this, Baltor looked quite
shocked, especially since he was hearing it from his friend,
teacher, and truly a master thief, though not technically. When
Humonus didn’t continue a minute later, he had to ask, “What was
your plan?”

“It was my plan to wait for him to drop down
onto all fours, figuring that he would charge at me, and that just
before reaching me, I would have rolled to the right or left, and
he would plunge into the fire—he didn’t do that!”

“What did he do?”

“I kid you not—this bear had arms that were
five feet long! It threw one unexpected swipe of his paw into my
direction, and my chest was already shredded open!”

Chelsea gently lifted up the clothing on
Humonus’s chest; Baltor saw three bleeding slashes that spanned
from one side of his chest to the other. The smell of the blood was
deliciously intoxicating!

Barely was Baltor able to resist the vampire
urges by forcibly looking away, not breathe in, and ask, “Where’s
the bear now?”

“On the far side of the fire pit—dead,”
Chelsea answered.

Humonus added with weak excitement, “Yeah—I
got so mad that I pulled my daggers out of my belt, and then I
leapt up at him, while swinging both of my daggers up and at him!
Only a split second later, each dagger went through each eyeball
and both plunged into his brain, instantly killing him—they
did!”

Still fighting the urges, Baltor asked,
“Should we go back to Valakan, and get you some medical
treatment?”

“No, my friend,” Humonus answered. “We can do
that here. Thankfully, I brought my first-aid kit, located in the
back of the wagon, which kit has disinfectant, bandages, and even
better, a week’s worth of that numbing elixir. Can you get that for
me Chelsea, please?”

“Got ya, babe,” she replied before hurrying
for the wagon.

Humonus was the next to say, “After I’m all
bandaged up, I’ll need some help into the back of the wagon, and so
long as whoever’s driving the wagon tomorrow goes real slow because
it is a very bumpy ride, especially around these mountains…then we
can be on our merry way.”

After wincing very loud in pain, he added
with a small smile, “Trust me, my friend of friends—I’ll be all
right.”

“Are you sure?” Baltor asked, still not
convinced.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Humonus answered
confidently.

Cocking his head to the side, Baltor said,
“Okay…”

It was then that Chelsea returned with the
kit. At the same time, Baltor excused himself by saying, “I’ll be
back, guys. Gonna check the area out. I know you two girls can help
him with the medical procedure… right?” What he didn’t say was that
he needed blood, oh so bad!

“Right,” Brishava was the first to answer.
Right away, he left camp, so he could hunt.

Perhaps an hour later, he finally ran across
a pack of coyotes … six of them he hunted, one after the other, and
consumed. Barely did any of this animal blood help, as his stomach
ever so painfully clenched and unclenched—
still!

On his way back to camp, he began to visually
contemplate the possibility of taking his warhorse tonight and
galloping her at top speed to the cannibal tribe, perhaps four
hundred miles and many weeks away, and feast. After all, it had
long ago been his top-secret plan to use the cannibals as dinner
for many years to come.

Specifically, his thoughtful conclusions
were:
Because neither girl knows how to fight, and Humonus can’t
fight, I have no choice but to stay and protect. While, of course,
continuously resisting the bloodthirsty vampire inside me, which is
getting harder and harder to control… Why, I almost took a bite
into his neck tonight!

Right away upon his return, he saw that
Brishava and Chelsea had fallen asleep on the ground, perhaps
thirteen feet away from the campfire—in turn, he picked each girl
up and lay her down in the tent, before pulling guard duty all
night long.

The next morning after breakfast Brishava had
cooked and served, Chelsea changed all of Humonus’s bandages in the
back of the wagon, noting happily to everyone that the wounds had
finally stopped bleeding—now in a soft-scab form.

Only after she had exited, nearly five
minutes later, did Baltor enter with suit on. He forthwith leaned
against the railing, put the hat and visor on, and fell asleep as
the sun rose only seconds later.

A minute-or-so later, Chelsea began steering
the wagon at half the speed, while Brishava rode on Grasha, and the
two men rode in the back and slept: The group continued riding
east.

As the days and nights passed, Humonus slowly
got better and stronger; still, due to their slow movement, it took
a week and a half before they reached the jungles. By the time they
entered, he was almost back to full health, and they could ride at
a normal speed. Needful to say, nearly every waking moment was
torturous for poor Baltor; only his even stronger love for his wife
kept him going….

Three days later, Humonus finally regained
full mobility without any pain. That night, Baltor took his nightly
disappearance for food.

However, unlike the previous times where he
hunted in the vicinity on foot, this time he steered his horse
through the wide variety of jungle terrains (frequently at a
gallop). Somehow he knew that the cannibals’ village lay somewhere
nearby to the southeast.
Perhaps fifty or sixty miles
away?

Shortly before midnight, he luckily chanced
upon an unsuspecting cannibal guard patrolling the external borders
of their territory, perhaps an eighth of a mile away from Baltor’s
location.

Therefore, he climbed off his horse, ran
about a hundred feet, transformed into the vompareus, flew on over
and feasted on the man’s blood. At the end of this delicious feast,
Baltor felt not only satisfied and powerful, yet for the first time
in a very, very long time—
full!!

Although he knew he could have flown anywhere
he wanted to in the world, he had never forgotten that he had his
warhorse to contend with, and so he transformed back into a human,
and rode Grasha back to camp … they arrived a little before four in
the morning.

Not surprisingly, Humonus was up and guarding
with sword drawn. Upon seeing that it was Baltor, he sheathed his
sword and sleepily asked, “So…. anything to report?”

“Nothing bad,” Baltor said, while climbing
down to his feet and tethering his horse to a tree. “Why don’t you
get yourself some sleep? It’s my turn for guard duty anyway.”

“Ok, buddy….”

The next morning before sunrise, Baltor
whistled a very chipper tune as he cooked breakfast of pancakes and
sausage for everyone. After all, for the first time in weeks, he
wasn’t hungry one iota. Once ready, he woke each person up in turn,
by handing that person a plate of food that had a fork stuffed into
it.

It took another two solid days and nights of
traveling, without stopping to camp or take hardly any breaks at
all, before the group finally reached the borders of
Chao-chu-sha-maen.

Nearly an hour after sunset, the group
finally arrived at the village’s outskirts. Baltor was in the lead,
riding on his warhorse. Humonus steered the wagon, while the girls
sat beside him.

It was then that Baltor signaled for Humonus
to park the wagon—he did. As soon as they climbed off, stood on
their feet and began to stretch out, Brishava, Chelsea and Humonus
looked around in amazement—for never before had the latter two seen
black people. Brishava, on the other hand, had seen them quite a
few times in her life, either visiting royalty or their slaves: She
was amazed because these people were primitive, and short.

Despite their amazements, they followed
behind Baltor after he had tethered his horse to a tree, waved for
them to follow and walked into the village. The villagers
remembered Baltor from his first visit, for there was no alarm—just
curiosity at these newcomers, so they stopped whatever they were
doing and also began to follow.

Soon enough, the very large group of people
reached the tribal palace—with Baltor still in the lead. As he
approached the entryway, neither of the two guards crossed their
spears just before he could enter. Surprisingly, they let him
pass.

Only a split-second after Baltor had entered
the palace, however, he heard the guards click their spears
together, barring everyone else entry. Including his friends and
wife.

Right away, Baltor cocked just his head
around and said nonchalantly, “Just wait a little bit, guys. Trust
me, you’re completely safe—I’ll be back as soon as I can.”