While their gazes remained locked, Brishava thought she heard Baltor’s voice say in her head, The world is ours, my love, the world is ours…
She tried to say forcibly back in her own mind, hoping that Baltor could hear it, Yes it is—I love you, my husband!
In the next moment, Baltor’s gaze stopped looking at his wife—those eyes gazed back again at his soldiers as he declared, “Tonight, my Forces, I will need to see a medic and get my rest…but tomorrow night—we celebrate!”
“HOORAY!!” was the most common word used by everyone.
The only person who didn’t say a word was Jumblee. Because he could no longer hold back his “unadulterated rages,” he drew a boot knife, and chucked it straight and true for Baltor’s right jugular vein on his neck!
Without even a second thought, Baltor’s right sword had automatically deflected the incoming knife, even though it came from behind his standing position—in the end, the blade of the knife harmlessly stuck itself into the ground, while the armies on both sides instantly killed the would-be assassin of their Sultan.
Once everyone sensed that everything was okay, the crowds began to chant out excitedly and repeatedly, “Sultan Elysian! Sultan Elysian! Sultan Elysian!”
CHAPTER VI
Baltor awoke the following evening after sunset, and without so much as an ounce of pain anywhere. Even before he had opened his eyes, he could feel the bandages and gauze tape that the medics had tightly wrapped around his chest, back and shoulder following the battle—although there had been no wound nor scar even then. He had ordered the medics to remain forever silent to this fact, even to their Sultaness and ruling-general.
Upon opening his eyes a second later, he observed that Brishava was sitting on the bed nearby, and that she was gazing and smiling at him. Currently she was dressed in one of her sexy nighties. He couldn’t help but smile back!
Nearly a minute passed as the two continuously stared at each other without a word spoken yet so much being communicated between the two. Baltor was the first one to break the silence by yawning and then saying, “Good evening, Hun.”
Brishava replied with a very chipper tone of voice, “Good evening to you, my Love! How ya feeling?”
“Not bad. You?”
“Good!”
As Baltor felt the urge to yawn yet again, he slowly breathed in while just as slowly stretching his arms out over his head, and then he sucked in a deep breath of air into his lungs. As he released that very deep yawn, he lowered his arms back to his sides. Once so, he next extended out his right hand so that he could clasp Brishava’s left hand.
The very second their hands made contact—a light flickered in her eyes, just before she asked excitedly, “Guess what?”
Already curious by the excitement that was evident, Baltor asked, “What?”
Brishava shifted her free hand so that it could hold Baltor’s free hand. Once this was so, she revealed, “Tonight, at nine, we have our victory celebration! It will be held at the coliseum, so that we can have plenty of room to celebrate with absolutely everybody!”
After raising just his left eyebrow while slightly pursing his lips, Baltor asked, “You’re really, really good at getting things done quickly and thoroughly, aren’t you?”
“Of course,” Brishava said with a flattered smile. The look on her face unexpectedly turned to concern as she asked, “So, how is your shoulder?”
“It still hurts in so many ways that he stabbed me in the back,” Baltor answered truthfully, “but I’ll be all right! Just to let you know, I didn’t want to kill your uncle, but I had no—”
At this point, Brishava had physically silenced him by cupping her right hand gently over his mouth, and saying, “Shh….it wasn’t your fault!”
Through her cupped hand, Baltor asked with a muffled voice, “Are you sure?”
Once Brishava’s hand was once again clasping her husband’s hand, a second later, she said, “Yes, I’m sure. Like you predicted, the duel not only saved the lives of tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands, yet you’ve more than tripled the size of our troops! We now have two hundred and twenty-eight thousand strong men and women enlisted in the Sharia Empire’s armed forces, too include my uncle’s top general!
“Regarding this particular man, Thorn has already solemnly sworn his allegiance to us, and we, via me, have graciously promised that we will give him plenty of chances to prove his oaths, as he shall be placed directly under your command as a one-star general. If he fails once, he will immediately die by your hand, and he knows this to be true…”
During the course of Brishava’s last sentence, a confused look had begun to draw on her husband’s face.
Once he was one hundred percent sure she was done saying what she had to say, Baltor asked his question a few moments later, “Has there been any sighting of General Glacius?”
After sighing disappointedly, Brishava answered, “No, he has managed to escape, yet again. Don’t worry—he won’t get far.”
Though he spoke no words, Baltor nodded his head in agreement.
After releasing a wistful sigh, Brishava’s eyes glimmered as she exclaimed, “By the way, that was by far, the most incredible battle I’ve ever witnessed in my life—trust me, you made no mistakes! And what it all really boils down to is this… you gave my uncle so many chances to join us and our family that it wasn’t even funny—but like I said before, my uncle was just as tyrannical and devious as my father.”
It was then that Baltor’s face visibly relaxed, before he replied with a slight growl, “Good….so, do we have any time for some hanky—”
Just then, there was a repetitious knocking upon the double doors interrupting Baltor in his words.
Brishava, with a knowing smile directed at Baltor, quickly threw her black silky robe on before replying authoritatively, “Enter.”
The guards opened the double doors from the other side, and in walked Humonus, who clearly looked angry.
Baltor immediately realized that something wasn’t right, and so he sat up in bed before asked very somberly, “What’s going on, Ruling General?”
“My Sultan, word has just reached us from Lasparus—instead of me relaying that message to you, I will let the captain who barely escaped with his life relay it,” Humonus said, snapping his fingers twice.
Only a moment later, two guards carried the mortally wounded captain on a stretcher into the room. Not only was his uniform tattered to shreds, yet half of his unshaven face and three-quarters of his body were completely bandaged up! Though the medics had obviously done their best to keep the captain alive as long as possible, they felt convinced that he wasn’t going to make it for much longer.
As soon as the captain’s horror-stricken eyes reached his Sultan’s, he painfully began, “My Sultan, I… I am Captain Fletch, from Lasparus… The Duke of Vispano and his men….they ambushed and attacked the city two weeks ago, after our commanding officer let them in because we received no orders to the contrary. They attacked us right away, killing every soldier they ran across, or any civilian trying to fight…
“We were so horribly outnumbered, as half of our forces had been sent here… I… I believe I am the only soldier to escape and sur—” Fletch managed to say, just before he died with his eyes wide open.
Humonus permanently shut Fletch’s eyes, crossed the captain’s arms over his chest, and laid his own hands lightly on the man’s hands while throwing a little prayer for a speedy trip to the afterlife, which prayer took about ten seconds.
Once he was complete, the two guards that had brought the captain into the room on the stretcher took his body out.
Meanwhile, Baltor looked over at Humonus, and then he sighed aloud, “I guess that it’s really true what King Thorven the Great said, more than a thousand years ago, in his book called, The Chronicles of the Eternal King: ‘When peace finally emerges between two warring countries, war will erupt with still another…so always, always, always be ready.’”
“What are your orders, my Sultan?” Humonus was the first to ask.
Baltor answered, “Tomorrow, Ruling General, we shall inform the troops that one hundred ten thousand soldiers and sailors shall be deploying by land and sea to Lasparus, led by me: Not only will we be taking back our city, but then we shall conquer the entire Vispano Province. The Duke can no longer be trusted…”
After taking a deep breath, he ordered, “Forty-five thousand, twenty-eight soldiers shall stay here in Pavelus, in which I have every confidence in my Sultaness’s ability to more-than-sufficiently rule the affairs of the Sharia Empire on her own…
“The remaining forty-five thousand soldiers will immediately deploy back to Mauritia, in order to reclaim this city and her surrounding lands once more, led by you, my Ruling General.”
Nearly ten seconds passed before Humonus finally answered, “As you command, my Sultan.”
“Tonight,” Baltor added with a little smile, “we say nothing, and simply celebrate our first victory. That’s it.”
“Yes, my Sultan.”
Brishava, who had been paying fervent attention as always, commended enthusiastically, “All great ideas, Hun!”
Baltor glanced over at his wife, and said with a wink, “Thank you, Love!”
Humonus abruptly cleared his throat, before asking, “If you will please excuse me, my Sultan and Sultaness? I have many missions to accomplish and very little time to do it all.”
“Of course! See you tonight at the celebration, my friend,” Brishava said with a pleased smile.
After delivering a low bow, Humonus walked toward the doors that the two guards had just opened.
The guards instantly snapped a sharp salute to their ruling-general as he passed them by, which salute was returned. Once he was gone, the guards exited the room, shutting the door behind them.
Only three seconds later, Brishava had already finished glancing all around the room, discovering that they were once again completely alone.
She next looked on over at Baltor, threw off her robe, and said with a crooked yet very sexy smile, “Now, back to what you were suggesting originally about some hanky panky, but listen up first…this is important. We only have one hour before our assistants will arrive, mine in my dressing room, which means we have about thirty-to-forty minutes to have a little fun, so that we can also take a quick bath before they arrive. Oh, of course, we need to make sure your bandages don’t get wet!”
“Okay,” he replied with his own crooked smile.
She purred like a kitten in desire, and so he growled like a tiger right back—still like a kitten, she immediately crawled to him, and passionate touching and kissing began between the lovers….
Exactly one hour later, Brishava departed for her dressing room, while Baltor stayed where he was. His assistants had already arrived, pushing the closet-on-wheels.
Only a moment-or-so after they had bowed, they started the process of dressing and grooming him up. Right away, Baltor announced, “I’ve decided that I want my hair to get long enough to put it into a ponytail, but you can do everything else you normally do. Understand?”
“Yes, my Sultan,” the lead assistant replied with a nod, before he and the rest of his assistants continued to work.
After they were done and gone, thirty minutes after they had started, Baltor’s eyes only then began to perform his self-inspection in the mirror.
The first object to draw his attention was his royal Sultan’s crown, perfectly placed on the top of his head. Then it was his two highly prized necklaces, one of them a gift from his wife and the other from one of his best and oldest friends, Humonus.
Then it was his snazzy-looking purple tunic that had tiny silver-swirls sewn throughout, as well the silver buttons that buttoned up the front of the shirt, as well his silver-colored breeches.
Then it was his royal insignia, his wedding ring, and his pinky rings. Finally, it was his pair of knee-high, white, leather boots.
Not even a second after his inspection had ended, and he was quite satisfied with the result, he saw—still through the mirror—Brishava enter the room, noting that she now wore a shimmering golden evening dress, as well a pair of matching high-heeled shoes. Her hair loosely flowed straight down both her front and backside, held in place at the top of her head by her matching yet smaller crown. Her eye shadow consisted of several horizontal gold and silver glitter layers. Why, even her painted ruby red lips had silver-and-gold glitter on them!
When both husband’s and wife’s eyes cast upon each other, they gazed at one another in astonishment and wonder….
“Oohhh—you look good,” both stated simultaneously and with ear-to-ear smiles.
In the very next moment, they replied in unison, “Thanks—so do you!”
At that, both husband and wife began to burst out laughing with merriment at the very same time.
Only three seconds after the laughter had begun, however, someone was already knocking on the bedroom door.
Still chuckling, Baltor replied, “Enter…”
Humonus and Chelsea were the first to enter, and they were both dressed up formally for tonight’s event. She wore a beautiful black evening dress, while he wore his “Class A” uniform. Following behind was Jamar, also wearing his own formal attire. All three bowed for a moment.
Upon rising, Humonus was the first to say, “Your transportation has arrived, my Sultan and Sultaness. Are we ready to leave?”
Yet again in unison, both Baltor and Brishava replied, “Yes we are.” At that, neither could help but burst out into unrestricted laughter from the parallelism. A teardrop had even started to form at the inner corner of each of her eyes!
Humonus’s eyebrows rose in confusion, but he said not a word. On the other hand, Jamar had a few words to say, and so he said them frantically, “Please, my Highnesses, your mascara!”
Both she and Baltor instantly checked their laughter by lightly clearing their throats, as they both had eyeliner on. A moment later, Brishava added, “You’re right—thank you, Jamar.”
“No problem, my Sultaness.”
Brishava had to clear her throat one more time before she could say, “I need to check myself out in the mirror one more time before we go, especially as important as this celebration is—and so do you, Honey.”
“Already done, Sweetheart,” Baltor replied with a wink and a knowing smile! He had done just that only three seconds earlier.
Moments later, the group casually exited the room, and joining them out in the hallway was a platoon of guards, marching in front and behind their rulers. After exiting the main doors to the palace and into the courtyard outside, they, in turn, entered the over-sized royal carriage that had twelve horses pulling it along.
Once everyone was comfortably seated with the door closed, the chauffeur clucked his tongue a few times, while snapping the reins and driving them out of the palace grounds.
Joining them outside the palace walls was the entire army already assembled in formation, and following behind them, all of the nobles who rode in the back of their carriages. The vast majority of the “commoners” had all been hired to set up tonight’s victory celebration—cooking, cleaning, decorating, etc., etc. They had all been working non-stop since being hired.
Jamar had been put in charge of elaborately designing and preparing the coliseum for tonight’s event, despite the fact that it was still only half-built, so that the coliseum could comfortably seat, feed hungers, parch thirsts, and entertain all two hundred, eighty thousand guests! Overall, it could hold three hundred thousand people.
Nearly fifteen million parsecs had been spent in order to produce this one single night of celebration—three quarters of the “total bill” was taken care of, most graciously, by the nobles of Pavelus out of their own pockets.
Once they had arrived at the coliseum, about an hour-in-a-half later, Jamar escorted Baltor, Brishava, Humonus, and Chelsea into the royal waiting room, while everyone else—nobles, common fol
k, officers, and enlisted soldiers began to locate their assigned seats, and then sit down.
Nearly thirty minutes later, everyone was finally seated, and so Ruksha walked out onto the balcony. After the two trumpeters had played the Empire’s national anthem, Ruksha proudly introduced the Sultan and Sultaness. Thanks to the fact the balcony had been acoustically built to magnify all sounds, he did not need a megaphone to be clearly heard by everyone.
It was then that Baltor and Brishava walked hand-in-hand to their thrones and sat down—all the while, the royal trumpeters had been playing the royal tune, while everyone else bowed their heads in sovereign respect.
Once the two rulers of the Sharia Empire had comfortably seated themselves, and the trumpeters had stopped, Baltor commanded, “You may all rise.”
Everyone rose.
Ruksha next formally introduced Ruling-General Humonus and his lovely wife, Lady Chelsea.
Again, the trumpeters blew out another melodious tune—already had the entire regiment of soldiers snapped their sharpest salute to their Ruling General.
Humonus just-as-sharply returned the salute, and then he and Chelsea headed over to the main rectangular table and took the seats on the outside, which had been set for four—it had earlier been briefed to them that Baltor and Brishava would inevitably be sitting in the two middle seats, during the course of dinner.
Meanwhile, the soldiers dropped their salutes, and took their seats. Without the salute, the nobles had already begun to take their seats.
Just as before, a servant came out holding a gold serving tray, which held three other gold objects: two jeweled goblets, and a matching jug filled with wine. After another servant had come out and tested the wine, and that servant appeared okay fifteen seconds later, the wine was poured into both goblets, and distributed to their leaders.
The second Baltor was given his goblet, he rose to his feet, raised the goblet high into the air, and declared, “It is an honor to be your Sultan! I promise that I shall always be just and fair to the very last one of you, until the very last moment of my life!”
BOOK II OF III: The Reign of the Sultan Page 11