BOOK II OF III: The Reign of the Sultan (53 page)

Baltor was actually a bit shocked by this
woman’s unusual reason why she didn’t murder him. Still, in order
to ensure that she fully understood his position in the matter, he
revealed, “I hate to tell you, but I’m a happily married man with a
woman that I’m deeply in love with—despite our marital problems,
she is my soul mate!”

No longer sounding in love, but upset, Maline
said, “I see…”

Baltor added, “Last but not least, I promise
that I will compensate you for your losses with the Guild, no
matter the cost—also, I will let you go, but you must promise never
to come back!”

“If you will not join me, then,” Maline
snarled while dropping the candle to the floor and drawing her
sword. She concluded, by howling like a banshee, “You must
die!”

Baltor yelled out, “Guards! Assassin!”

Already the front doors to his chambers had
been kicked open by booted feet, thus allowing light (fortunately
not sunlight) from the hallway to enter the room, and in ran two
guards with swords drawn. More guards were already on the way,
while yelling out, “Assassin in the Sultan’s bedroom!”

Even though Maline attempted to bolt for the
curtains, in order to make her escape—Baltor had already blocked
her way to those curtains with both swords drawn!

Maline turned around to face the guards.

A fierce battle was waged between the
losing-guards and the winning-Maline, while Baltor stood in the
defensive position in front of the curtains.

Within the next few minutes, more than eight
guards had already died by Maline’s short sword!

The second Baltor realized that she was too
skilled a warrior for any of the guards to handle, he finally
called out, “Guards—back off! I will battle this assassin
myself!”

Dozens of guards backed off. Dozens more
guards had arrived but had to wait outside the bedroom, as more
guards blocked the entryway.

Maline turned to face Baltor, and said,
“Every last martial arts trick you know originally came from
me—soon enough, you will die by my hands!”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Baltor replied, “but
I cannot allow you to live so long as you’re a threat!”

Maline leapt forward into a cartwheel, and
while coming out of her cartwheel, she aimed her short sword down
at Baltor—he rolled to the side and avoided the impact of the short
sword.

For the next ten minutes, Baltor and Maline
battled it out, all the while using cartwheels, somersaults,
attacks, and defenses quicker than the guards’ eyes could
see—neither individual could score an attack on the other! The
dozens of guards that watched the battle watched in utter awe.

Seven minutes after the battle had begun,
Brishava, who was in the throne room, heard the report about the
assassin from a guard, and so she rose from her throne and rushed
over to the bedroom as fast as she could.

Back in the bedroom, Maline finally arrived
at the area that she wanted, and without warning, she turned around
toward the curtains that she had earlier intrinsically cut, and
leapt high into the air.

After delivering a vertical slash of her
short sword, a large section of the curtains dropped to the floor
and sunlight penetrated into the room … and directly onto Baltor’s
exposed face, neck, torso, hands, and feet!

In that same moment, Baltor expected to
instantly die from the sunlight exposure, as did Maline because she
too strongly suspected that his weakness lay with the sun, but
“death” strangely did not come.

Even though Maline was in the process of
turning around so she could watch Baltor die, the sword in his
right hand sliced off Maline’s head, which head rolled upon the
ground several feet until it stopped!

As soon as Brishava had pushed her way passed
all the guards and entered the bedroom, Baltor observed that she
bore a terrified look on her face as she looked at Maline’s
headless body lying upon the ground.

In the next moment, she looked over at her
husband, noting with surprise and shock that the sunlight from
outside continued to stream upon her husband, which sunlight gave
him an angelic appearance! He glowed.

“My Baltor, you’re alive!” Brishava exclaimed
for two major reasons—the assassin and the sunlight.

“Yes, my love, I am,” Baltor said, while
nodding his head.

Brishava hurried over, and through her tears,
she began to hug and to kiss Baltor.

Two of the guards, knowing that their Sultan
was okay, removed the head and the body from the bedroom. Another
guard ran to get a servant to clean up the mess. The rest began to
disperse back to their assigned posts.

Once the kisses had abated, Brishava finally
confessed while holding onto her husband in a tight embrace, “I’m
sorry for the way I’ve been treating you—I’ve just been quite
frustrated because…because I—”

Baltor interrupted, “Because you’re not
pregnant, despite all our best efforts—I know. I’m truly sorry—one
day when the time is right, we’ll have our child.”

Brishava pulled back from the hug so that she
could look into her husband’s sorrow-filled face, and once so, she
replied, “It’s not your fault, Baltor. I’m just glad to know you’re
alive—by the way, you, you can tolerate the sun after all. I’m just
as glad to know this, so we can take walks during the day from now
on.”

At that moment, Baltor’s peripherals noticed
that several servants had arrived with tons of rags in their hands
in order to clean the mess lying on the floor.

With a whole lot of surprise to his voice, he
said, “I guess I can, after all.”

Brishava replied, “That’s wonderful
news!”

“By the way,” Baltor said confidently, “I
know that we haven’t had a child yet, but let’s never give up the
belief that if Destiny, Fate, and God decree it—it will
happen!”

“Yes, my love. You’re right!” Brishava said
just before she kissed her husband long and hard upon the lips.

As the “days of peace and prosperity” turned
to weeks, which inevitably turned into months, Baltor came to
discover that he didn’t ever need to sleep, though he occasionally
did choose to sleep at least once or twice a week, just so he could
escape from reality and/or be alone with his wife.

During the times he was awake, he either
trained with the troops, studied books in every subject imaginable,
visited with family, friends, ambassadors, or leaders of other
countries, created artistic paintings or sculptures.

Finally yet just as importantly, he took an
active role as a lawmaker alongside his Sultaness, which imperial
laws they co-created were based on the concept of “peace, honor,
and glory for all,” regardless of color or ethnicity.

One such law was the abolishment of slavery
of any kind in any of the lands or seas of the Sharia Empire.
Another important law was that any and all street gangs were now
illegal. Still another law was to stop animal cruelty. Violators of
any law would minimally serve a one-year maximum-security prison
sentence on the Isle of Thricka … not a nice place to be imprisoned
for even a day.

Two months and one afternoon after the
incident with Maline, a messenger unexpectedly arrived through the
portal at the palace, after of course he had proved his
authenticity to the watch-commander, evident by the scroll he
carried bearing the wax-sealed image that he was indeed from the
Kingdom of Thorium.

Upon being escorted into the throne room by
the commander himself and a dozen guards, the messenger bowed deep
and low before Baltor and Brishava, of who were both currently
sitting in their thrones.

After the messenger’s bow was complete,
nearly thirty seconds later, he again pulled out the scroll,
pointed to the authentic seal to prove its legitimacy, broke the
seal, unrolled the scroll, and began to read aloud,

“‘Greetings Sultan Baltor and Sultaness
Brishava of the Sharia Empire—thank you for spending your valuable
time to listen to my dutiful messenger, of whom brings a message
directly from me, Queen Calitta Dumont of the Kingdom of
Thorium.

‘Now the reason for this message is because
we have been in a very nasty war with the barbaric Kamanites for a
little over six weeks now. Perhaps you’ve heard about these
blood-thirsty and savage people before, whose numbers rank between
ten and twenty thousand, but if you haven’t, let me first say that
we think that they originate from the Swamps of Florima. This area
exists a little over two hundred miles to the northeast of my
kingdom’s forestland borders…

‘One town at a time at random the Kamanites
would attack with all their numbers using guerilla warfare, and in
the middle of the night; before morning arrived, they murdered
everyone, guards and peaceful nobles and citizens. Instead of
advancing any further, they would set that town or city on fire,
and then retreat back to their swamps, where my arriving forces
couldn’t penetrate due to their own sophisticatedly nasty defenses.
Overall, I’ve lost more than ten thousand soldiers and eight
thousand citizens.

‘We thought we had these murderous pests
under control; that is, until about two hours ago when we realized
how wrong we were. Right before sunrise, they launched a sneak
attack upon my capital city of Politesse, and now we are completely
surrounded. I only have twenty-five hundred soldiers left, and five
thousand citizens, to defend. Thankfully you have one of your
magical portals here, or we would have all been dead by the time my
messenger would have made it to your city by ship…

‘So I must ask. Is your offer still good in
that you will assist us militarily?

‘We are seriously in dire need your
help—please and thank you. Queen Calitta Dumont of the Kingdom of
Thorium.’”

After briefly looking at her husband,
Brishava was the first to nod her head and say, “I think we should
help her out. What do you think, my Sultan?”

He looked over and said, “I agree, my
Sultaness. I will go to Thorium, talk things over with Queen
Calitta, and then come back, so I should be back shortly.”

Just after having risen to his feet, he
asked, “So would you like to come too, honey?”

Brishava rose to her feet, walked over to her
husband, gave him a hug and a kiss, and then said, “No, I trust
that you’ll handle the situation just fine—love you, babe!”

While still in the embrace, Baltor kissed her
on the lips, and after the kiss was over a few seconds later, he
caressed her cheek with his hand, while saying, “Love you too.”

He exited with the messenger out of the
throne room, as well those dozen guards. They all went to the room
with the teleportation mirror in it, but it was only he, the
messenger, and the commander who walked through that portal.

Once the three were in the capital city’s
palace, a split-second later, the messenger immediately escorted
Baltor toward Calitta’s throne room.

Upon entering, a few minutes later, Baltor
saw that Calitta was sitting upon her throne—even though her facial
expressions appeared quite serene, his mind still sensed that she
was worried sick.

Surprisingly, Calitta sounded almost happy as
she sang, “Greetings, Sultan Elysian.”

Baltor bowed his head respectfully, and after
looking back up, he said, “Greetings to you, Queen Calitta. So,
what can the Sharia Empire do for you?”

Now revealing a very worried expression upon
her face and eyes, Calitta began, “Whatever it takes to stop these
pests…whatever it takes.”

“Okay,” Baltor replied calmly.

“If you are successful, then Kingdom of
Thorium shall fall under the banners of the Sharia Empire. Yet,
just like how you arranged it with King Cheo and Queen Chelsea, I
wish to retain my title of Queen, and my rule, until my death. I
have no heirs to the kingdom, nor will I, as I am now too old to
bear children.”

Baltor looked shocked at Calitta’s proposal,
yet he managed to ask, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Calitta smiled, and said, “After having given
it much thought, my answer is yes. Although I have had many suitors
during my adult life, there hasn’t been a single man I’ve found
honorable enough to be king. If you weren’t married, however, that
would have been a completely different story long ago.”

“I see,” Baltor said. Changing the subject
real quickly, he added, “We have a deal, Queen Calitta. I shall
immediately have approximately two thousand, five hundred of my
elite soldiers dispatched here, so we can quickly dispense with the
enemy before sunset, which is what…in about nine hours from
now?”

“Yes,” she answered. “But is that it? Two
thousand, five hundred soldiers?”

Baltor laughed out his nose, and answered,
“And myself—trust me, my Queen. That’s all we’ll need. General
Tar.”

“Yes sir!”

“Go find Ruling-General Stormea and tell him
to report to Pavelus’s throne room at once. Tell him to ready the
Shadow Force for action.”

“Sir, what Shadow Force?”

Without having cast his eyes away from
Calitta for one second, he answered patiently, “Just tell him…he’ll
know what I’m talking about.”

“Yes sir,” Tar snapped, just before he exited
the palace’s throne room to head for the portal room.

Baltor bowed his head for a second. In the
next second, he looked back up and added, “Queen Calitta, it is
really not necessary to hand over your kingdom to the Sharia Empire
for our help. After all, you are our good trading partners, allies,
and most especially, friendly neighbors.”

“Sultan Baltor,” Calitta said, “As I already
said, I am too old to bear any heirs to the throne. Once I am gone,
who will justly rule the Kingdom of Thorium after me?”

Baltor sighed. After cocking his head to the
side, he asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you? You
only look but thirty-five or thirty-six years of age!”