Chapter 175: Twentieth Episode: Chapter 3 (1/2)
Chapter 175: Twentieth Episode: Chapter 3
Translator: EndlessFantasy TranslationEditor: EndlessFantasy Translation
To marry a Persian girl, the groom had to prepare three things. First, a generous dowry; second, a herd of livestock and third, a good weapon to confront their love rivals. Therefore, it was said that… being a Persian groom was not easy, especially when his bride was beautiful beyond comparison!
Princess Arayna Mogadishu lived in a castle by the sea. Her father had given the palace in the city to the conqueror of Fort Istantine and knowing this made her feel unusually dejected. The conqueror was not the northern Ghazali cavalry, nor the ”Yellow Faces” of the east, and also not the pirates on the Disin Sea. Why must it be the Andrews, their natural enemy, that had taken over her homeland? No matter how she thought about it, she just could not get over that fact.
On the territory of the Mogadishus, there was no one who did not know the name Arayna. The people here were used to calling her ”Pearl of the Black Sea”. However, not many had met the princess. Arayna Mogadishu was a fine young lady who abided to customs. Since many years ago, she had never done anything that overstepped her boundaries.
The Ottoman soldiers had built a great wall that defended the coastal border region on both sides of the Bosphorus Channel. A 32-kilometer long coastline was covered with fortifications and looming towers. To the west of the channel sat Fort Istantine. This had once been the Kingdom of the Byzantines, the descendants of the Romans. At the cliffs and valleys to the east of the channel, the conquerors that had come after had built themselves a city. The Mogadishus called it Justania, which meant ”Prophet Valley”. Usually, the people would refer to Istantine as the old city and Justania as the new city. A narrow channel, just like the natural boundary between the future and history, separated both the new and old cities.
It is very difficult for us to believe that to one end of this natural boundary, the law of the Persian Ottoman Dynasty was actually a scripture. The military empire under a united religious and political rule only established the five hundred over years of governance under a unified belief. However, there seemed to be shortcomings to such a belief. Perhaps this had a huge thing to do with the establishment of the true God doctrine. Being one of the three major religious bodies, the religion of the True God had been formed later. There were not many ”amazing things” to be said about the founder. The scripture of the True God doctrine was passed on orally by its believers and recorded into a book for the followers of the prophets and only gradually became prevalent towards the end of the 3rd century. In the next two hundred years, there were even leaders of various sects that added on to it.
Just like this, the True God scripture was attributed to the collection of anecdotal views of Prophet Elladan's actions and way of life as the foundation. Thus, the True God sect that was of a different worldly belief had all the while held completely different interpretations of this anecdotal view collection.
In the history of the Persian Ottoman Dynasty, countless debates and armed struggles between the religious sects had taken place. These senseless disputes that the people got wholeheartedly engrossed in consumed a great amount of the military Empire's strength. It also buried the root of the nation's hatred and oppression among the lowest rung of the ruling foundation.
Incomplete statistics showed that… the Persian Ottoman Empire was constituted by over four hundred nationalities. The ruler of the Empire was unclear about these because he completely did not care. All the nationalities were subservient to the Imperial Household and the royal bodies. Their existences were like that of slaves.
In the five hundred years long history of the single religious ruling, the majority would oppress the minority; the dominant would oppress the submissive. There was no harmony between the nationalities within the Empire. As a whole, the Ottomans of the rulers seemed to adopt an uncaring attitude towards the chaos and disputes of the nationalities. They did not hope for any of the sects to emerge as champions at all. They also did not wish to see a certain tribe prosper and gain power.
As a ruler, the royal body of the Imperial Ottoman Household created disasters by sowing dissension and used intermarriages between close relatives to maintain their bloodline. It seemed that most Persian Princesses were used to undergoing this kind of complex marriages. This type of marriage could stabilize the territory and facilitate the reconciliation between the sects. However, following the passage of time, the intermarriage between the Imperial Household and the royal body had lost this significance. The main reason was that the number of princesses and princes were almost at an uncountable quantity. If they were not supported by the territory and religious leaders, these princesses and princes would simply be worthless.
”So... if you are to marry a Persian Princess, choose the most beautiful, richest and most noble!”
O'Neil Andrew Morisette merely shrugged because he was completely ignorant of the Persian Empire's history and religious culture… in short, practically everything about this country. He only knew that the Andrews and Persians were natural enemies that had been going at each other for a few hundred over years. Now, the Andrews had risen from natural enemies to conquerors!
Conquerors! This was such a fascinating address! Ever since O'Neil Andrew Morisette had discovered the precise meaning of this term, he had fallen irrevocably in love with it. As a conqueror, he could eye the tall mosque with a gaze that indicated he could not be bothered with. He could also lift the veils of female servants and dancers with playful movements. To the Persian ladies who praised the True God, this was a great humiliation. However, most Persian ladies would not resist because this would signify being subdued, utterly subdued.
Figg barred his younger brother who was about to set out from the little public square behind the palace. He dragged the perplexed Oscar down from the horse and used a thought-provoking gaze to assess him.
Oscar pointed at the chaotic market, ”100 cows, 100 sheep, a whole carriage of gold, a few carriages of various luxurious goods. Is there anything else you'd like to ask for?”
Figg scratched his head, ”where's your knife?”
Oscar tapped the leather pocket behind him. ”What do you mean?”
Figg stammered as if he was very reluctant to bring up the matter.
”Just now I said… as a Persian groom, you have to be prepared to confront your love rivals. What do you… think of this?”
Oscar shrugged and made a gesture of praying to the God of Light, ”God be with me.”
Figg rolled his eyes, ”Uhhh… so let it be. God be with you and may you and your coachman be spared from trouble.”
Oscar glanced at Wozakad Elladan on the horse, ”Will we come across any trouble?”
The former Persian General nodded firmly, ”Yes, definitely!” he replied with a highly shoddy phrase of affirmation.
”What kind of trouble?” Oscar used a dangerous gaze and sized up Figg. His second brother must be hiding something.
”The wedding ceremony of the Imperial Household usually has a very exciting and important program,” Wozakad Elladan explained word by word. ”Bride kidnapping! I'm not sure if it's this term… but this is the program. The family of the bride's side will assemble warriors that admire the bride and put on a show of bride kidnapping. Then the groom is to defeat these admirers to prove his gallantry. Only after then can he bring the bride away. To be more precise… this is the wedding customs of the Ottomans.”
”Ola… I'm looking forward to it!” Oscar chuckled and again patted the machete on his back. ”I have a fine blade and a Black Belt Warrior to help me escort the bride… there's nothing to complain about!”
”You don't understand…” Wozakad Elladan also stammered, ”this is your business… I can't help you with it!”
Oscar's face instantly paled, ”what did you say?”
”Meaning to say, you must face the princess' admirers alone,” Figg finally spilled the beans.
”Ola…” Oscar groaned. ”Face the princess' admirers alone? A group… or a division?”
”Not that many! There can only be ten performers in the show of bride kidnapping!” Wozakad extended his hands and gestured. ”You need only face ten!”
”That isn't too bad…” Paul had slunk up to them.
Wozakad shook his head, ”A few with hidden agendas usually use bride kidnapping to wreck the wedding. A situation where the groom gets killed has happened before.”
Paul was stunned momentarily. At last, he could only pat the young prince on the shoulder, ”you were right… God be with you… may it be so!”
Oscar glared at his second brother, ”I will get back at you!”
Fogg could only smirk, ”Okay, okay! Hurry off now! The beautiful Arayna is waiting for you in an exotically themed bedroom!”
***************
Arayna's time had arrived. That was a tall and lean warrior. His appearance did not have much difference from the ordinary Ottoman warriors with their tight puttee, close-fitting armor at the waist and the dark blue velvet head wrap. The warrior obscured most of his face with a silver mask. His legs were bare and he walked into the princess' bedroom with a near perfect stride.
The warrior had a machete. This was not unusual, but this man could actually come and go from the chamber of the Imperial Household's concubines? The Persian Princess regarded the chamber of the Imperial concubines as an area forbidden to men. However, it was natural that such prohibition had no effect on the Black Belt Warrior who was half man and half god.
The handle of the warrior's sword had a greenish-black strip of cloth hanging down from it. It was a kind of black that resembled the bottomless abyss. With one's bare eyes, there was absolutely no way to determine its age and significance. However, to the Persian Ottomans, this black ribbon symbolized the mightiest that ripped through time and space and connected with the True God.
Four maids were waving massive leaf fans a moment ago, but as soon as they saw the warrior, they immediately forgot their task. The warrior gave a slight wave of his hand towards the maids crouching on the ground. The lowly servants immediately withdrew from the princess' bedroom.
Arayna was lying on the spacious bed. She was practically naked. The pure white blanket only covered her lower body.
Light from the afternoon sun crossing the sky spilled into the room from the balcony that was filled with plants. Arayna was basking in the sunlight to her heart's content. The rays of light on her body coruscated with multi-colored rays of brilliance. The olive oil, extracted through meticulous means, caused the curves on her body to take on a near perfect form and luster.
The Black Belt Warrior gazed at the princess, but there was not the slightest lust in his eyes. As a protector of the True God, the flames of his soul had already died out, and only glory and resolution cast from his faith remained.
”Is everything ready?” Arayna rolled over. The Black Belt Warrior did not turn away from the breathtaking scene before him and his eyes remained limpid.
”Everything is ready!”
The princess nodded and once again buried herself in the brocade fur. The lion skin bedding made her think about her groom!
Narcissus Fierce Tiger? The faith of their natural enemy was really too strange. Those were two completely different things!
The Black Belt Warrior averted his eyes and his gaze came to a halt upon a vase of narcissus. He recalled that the princess had brought it back from Andrew's territory. Initially, the girl had carefully watered it and raised it with all her heart until the narcissuses had bloomed.
”You're… sure you want to do this?”
Arayna gave a groan. The sunlight was progressively raising the temperature but this intensity was not sufficient to describe the flames in her heart.
”I have been waiting for this day all my life. I have previously thought that this would be a dream! Now that it has actually happened, I must hold fast to it!”
”But… the royals do not wish to see any bloodshed!” the Black Belt Warrior was a little hesitant, but he still had to say it. ”The Andrews already aren't our natural enemies! No matter how much you refuse to admit it, you need to recognize this as an undeniable fact.”
”Remember Yakta!” Arayna had suddenly lost her patience. She abruptly sat bolt upright on the bed. Her voluptuous breasts jiggled in the haste of her fury. ”That man has murdered Yakta! Yakta was my teacher and also yours!”
The Black Belt Warrior shook his head, ”Yakta died on the battlefield! There's nothing to complain about. Even the True God will not…”
”Enough!” Arayna lifted the embroidered quilt and leaped down from the bed. She was indeed naked. ”Don't bring up the True God! If you still remember your belief and teachings of the prophets, you should be clear about what it signifies for us to accept that pagan!”
The Princess chose a simple knight uniform for herself and also wrapped a dark blue silk cloth around her face.
The Black Belt Warrior eyed the Princess doubtingly, ”you shouldn't do this! The True God only taught us the way to regard this world justly. The scriptures that we recite daily can only be summarized with one word, which is – love, and not slaughter!”
”Yes… love!” Arayna groaned softly, but her gaze became even more resolute. ”The Andrews provide my Emperor father with protection, but I'm the bargaining chip for the compromise of both sides. Does the True God consider this just? If this is just… why do I not feel even the slightest love for my groom, merely anger and hatred?”
”You're sure… you don't love him?”
Arayna's deep violet pupils contracted abruptly as if she had been startled. She seemed to have heard the most absurd statement in the world. ”By the True God, what are you saying?”
The Black Belt Warrior shook his head lightly. He already did not feel like saying anymore. The Arayna he knew only too well had completely transformed into a different person after that tragic Narcissus trip ended! She had trained her swordsmanship manically as if she had been possessed. She mumbled to herself like a mentally ill and poured out her worries to that pot of Narcissus.
Be it love or not, it did not matter. This marriage was actually pretty simple. Just as what Arayna said, the Mogadishus provided the bargaining chip and in exchange, the Andrews provided protection.
O'Neil Andrew Morisette finally viewed the majestic ocean. That deep, distant, sky blue lightened his mood, but only slightly. He still had tons of things to worry about.
The channel emitted a resplendent luster under the scorching sun. A few four-mast schooners of the Persians were bobbing on the surface of the clear, gleaming ocean. The sailboats made Oscar reminisce about his childhood. During his younger days, he had fiddled with various sailboat models in the bathtub and dreamed of conquering the ocean.
The bride escorting procession made up of the Red Tiger knights went through the streets of Fort Istantine. This multi-ethnic metropolis prepared fitting praises and flowers for the new conquerors. When the Andrews, the natural enemies, established their presence, they did not encounter powerful local opposition as anticipated. Both the historical remains of the God of Light and the monastery ruins of Fort Istantine had declared a fact to the people, which was, the territory of the God-chosen warriors was originally here and they had merely returned.
The Narcissus knight procession entered the main gatehouse of the fort by the great coastal wall at the edge of the city. The trumpeter within the castle sounded an upbeat and festive tune. The Oprahseb Lighthouse that was known far and wide had its lights lit in broad daylight. Bosphorus Channel and the essence of the Disin Sea's coastal area exuded a fresh, captivating style in the eyes of the Narcissus knights. The house of the Ottoman nobles relied on the shore and mountainous topography. The complex golden Persian building was decorated by the invigorating ocean breeze, the forest, and the bright-colored rowboats.
The authority class of Fort Istantine piled up a foundation of rocks in the area at which the sea ebbed and rose and upon that foundation, they built a delicately sculptured wooden residence. The fragrance of the sycamores wafted throughout the shiny wooden residence, while Persian roses exhibited a diverse array of colors on the cliffs and thicket that had the channel behind it.
The Great Mogadishu Emperor only possessed a ferry crossing that was used exclusively by the Imperial Household members. Although this ferry crossing could not fully display the royal house's boldness, the various details of the decoration and structure on the granite pile portrayed its given historical and capital glory and extravagance.
The locals referred to this pillbox-styled ferry crossing as Maqeeda. This was the name of a Great Mogadishu Emperor. The Mogadishus of Maqeeda at that time did not care about the empty treasury of the Imperial Palace and spent a period of over forty years to construct the giant fort that stood on the coastline. Its domed roof design was undoubtedly the best in the world. It was put together from two thousand over marble slabs after meticulous calculations.
The dock where the Imperial Household's ferry was berthed was huge. The spacious dock was one of the best works of Abdul Jedda, a fabled construction master of Persian, during his later years. Master Jedda's works were all over the great royal territories of Persian, but only the ”Maqeeda Castle Port” was unique. This closed off ferry crossing in the form of a fort was more like a dock. It utilized the load-bearing technology of the Roman Baroque buildings and its extremely heavy peak was fully supported by twenty-four massive pillars! Not only that, Master Jedda, in order to address the problem of the sinking foundation of the shore, put to use the casting technique of shells, limestone, and crushed bluestones and finally produced a succinct masterpiece that surpassed that of the East and West, which integrated the construction skills of various ethnics.
The thing that caused O'Neil Andrew Morisette to be left in awe was not the outrageous castle ferry crossing, but the luxurious internal décor of the Imperial Mogadishu Household's ferry. The Titan prince was riding in the private ferry of the great royal. This huge twenty-nine meters long sailboat actually had more than ten rooms of different sizes and functions. Every cabin was painted with enamel and filled with gold carvings.
”Ola… is this a palace?”
The entourage of the Imperial Mogadishu Household upon hearing this, beamed with pride. Figg shot a look at his bumpkin-like brother, ”You're so naïve… you haven't been to Justania, opposite the channel! The capital cities of the Kingdom will simply appear like undeveloped villages compared to it!”
”Really?” Oscar gasped in anticipation.
”Of course!” Figg arched his eyebrows, pleased. His expression was one that only conquerors would have. ”When we arrive in the Mogadishu's palace, shall I help you hold your jaw? I'm worried it may drop onto the ground.”
Oscar shrugged, ”Are you talking about Baqeeda Palace?”
Figg nodded. He still recalled the first time he strode into Baqeeda Palace. It seemed that… he just kept supporting his jaw.
”Ola… if it really is as you say, then let it be my Summer Palace…”
”You're dreaming!” Figg struck the high-spirited master with all his might.
Normally, all the people would take Fort Istantine and Justania for a single city. However, that was not the actual case. Both the names represented completely different historical periods, just that after experiencing the long rule of the Persian Romans, they no longer cared to look into the historical sources.
As the new city on the left bank of the channel, Justania was entirely a territory of Persian culture. Here there were brightly colored flat-roofed buildings while in the noble community where the nobles and privileged class gathered, it was filled with circular domed roofs that symbolized the cosmos and tall worship buildings.
The field of view on the ferry dock was limited. However, the locals of the place still could catch sight of Prophet Sailimi Mosque that towered into the heavens. This was the main temple of the Mogadishu clan's honored Palimahmat Sect. It was the direction where countless disciples on both shores of the channel faced during their morning and evening prayers.
The Narcissus knight procession reorganized themselves at the dock of the Imperial Household at the east coast. Justania did not have a spacious street, merely a mountain road that could only accommodate six horses and deep, noisy allies.
The dark-skinned Persians were watching on either side of the street. Due to the Great Mogadishu Emperor, the Narcissus knights reserved a considerable amount of armed forces. This was the last symbol of the Mogadishus whose tyranny once reigned. With pikes in hand and round shields before their bodies, the Ottoman warriors were as terrified as the onlooking crowd. Their pikes had once pierced through the chests of the Narcissus knights and their shields had once been covered by the marks from sabers, but now… they had to welcome their archenemies as guards.
However… the enemies no longer existed! The Empire of the Ottoman warriors and the glory that lasted several hundred years had already crumbled. Without the protection of the Narcissus knights, their land and women would have been thoroughly robbed by the Akangens [1]. Their perseverance and belief would also have to yield to the more powerful sects.
Under the odd ambiance, the welcoming procession of the Narcissus knights passed through the market, the town square, the Prophet Sailimi Mosque that was a replica of Saint Sophia Church. Lastly, they arrived at the public square of Baqeeda Palace and following the advanced agreement, arranged themselves into a tight formation.
The onlookers discussed in hushed tones. The elderly were recounting the previous war stories and the young were mulling over the leader of Andrew who resided on the ”Magical Beast”. As for the children, they were the most innocent group. They were still at the age where they looked up to heroes and yearned to engage in combat. The Raytheon in murals naturally could not compare to the real thing before their eyes. The children squeezed into the gaps between the shields. They weaved in and out among the Narcissus knights but all their intentions of touching the ”Magical Beast” failed. Baqeeda Palace's castrated chamberlains would remove the children from the procession one after another.
O'Neil Andrew Morisette's Raytheon inherited two of the noblest lineages in the world. It only had to slightly bow its head and ear-piercing cries would escape from the people for its thick neck and figure that was as perfect as a bow. The Raytheon turned its ears, trying to catch every source of sound. Under the fretful atmosphere filled with all sorts of sounds, it stomped uneasily on the spotless white flagstones, producing a metallic rumble of horse hooves.