Chapter 46: Chapter 45-The Sultan

"Camelia!"

Her name seemed to penetrate the air and rise from the earth like a volcanic explosion.

"Camelia!"

She nearly sobbed aloud, wanting with all her heart to believe it was not her panicked brain playing tricks on her. Only one person with that strong of a bellowing voice could only be none other than Stefan. Before her captor could finish her off, her prayers were answered when Liam and Stefan burst passed the gates that were quickly closing.

A small group of soldiers were desperately trying to fight them off.

"Stefan....!" She screamed not believing her eyes. "Help me!"

The Sultan's commander quickly barked a order and Camelia understood it without translation. One of the Giants was ordered to hold her still as he loomed behind her and clasped his large hands on either side of her head.

She started to fight, pushing backward, pulling her head forward as she kicked and punched with all her might. The soldier grasped Camelia by the hair and propelled her to stand in front of him with cruel force.

"Let me go!" She screamed, attempting to pry his hand from her hair.

He gave her hair a vicious wrench to silence her.

Stefan looked fierce as he stood there–all six feet plus of strength and brooding determination, appearing as though he were more than human with Liam at his side. The men they fought just moments ago lay unmoving, their body parts abnormally twisted as they are left in a pile. They both held guns directly pointed at the man holding her hostage.

The only warning they made was the blast of a bullet shooting through the air, silencing the background noise.

All of a sudden the constricting force around her head was released.

Instinct took over and Camelia's will to live outweighed her fear. She dropped to the ground, moved to the side quickly and watched the one holding her look down at his bare chest.  His right hand touched the wound as if attempting to staunch the flow of blood, right over his heart.  He looked up, anger mingling with shock registered on his face before he fell backward with a loud thud.

Stefan fired the shot, as she looked back, his stance once rigid in his aim.  His expression was impenetrable as he looked at her.

Rashad, Camelia quickly learning his name having heard it come from the mouths of others, charged towards her, the dagger raised in his hand, poised and ready to sweep the weapon downward for a deep thrust.

It all happened in slow motion as Camelia caught the blade reflect off the sun much like a lightning bolt coming directly to strike. She didn't have a moment to breath as she held it, her arms instinctively covering her face.

Camelia fully expected to feel the knife ripping into her skin.

Instead she felt nothing.

Lowering her arms, she looked up uncertain to what happened. The dagger lay sprawled at her feet.  She tried to run but her legs seemed made of heavy, heavy rubber. They bent and shook, but they didn't move.

In a blink on an eye, Stefan leapt like a lion honing in on his prey and charged from the opposite side, launching himself in a effort to knock Rashad off his target.

Rashad suddenly grunted, struck from behind the knees as both men rolled on the cobblestones. Stefan was quickly on top of him but that position was quickly reversed.

He finally gained the upper hand and sat on Rashad, his fist drawn back for a punch. Slowly he lowers his hand. He looked up quickly at Camelia who was watching at him in a mixture of fascination and wariness.

"He's been shot." Stefan said. "Directly in the head." He then looked back at Liam who was frozen in place with his gun still aimed.

"The bastard needed to die." Was all Liam said to Stefan's bewildered expression. "He was a open target when you were rolling on the ground. It's done."

Camelia lowered her eyes from the sun and drew a sharp breath. Blooded oozed from the back of Rashad's head. The ground turned crimson with his blood, spreading quickly like a big open leak. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, first from fear, now from relief, and a surge of another, powerful emotion–love.

"Camelia!"  Still dazed with shock, Camelia felt a strong hand circle her wrist, pulling her to her feet. Stefan drew her to him, wrapping his strong arms painfully tight around her. "I've got you now."  He says.  "Are you all right, Princess?"

She took a shuddery breath as she tried to regain her rapidly unraveling composure.  Camelia rested her forehead against his shoulder and could only nod her head.  She felt his shoulders sag in relief.

"I knew you'd find me."

Protecting her with his body, he searched the courtyard, pinning the frightened crowd with one of his lethal stares.

Only one dared to move.

The last giant soldier left standing suddenly unscathed his own dagger and with a warrior like cry came rushing at Liam.  He didn't have a chance when Liam expertly twisted his arm, elbowed him in the ribs, the impact forcing him to haunch over. He then wrapped his hands around the soldier's neck and viciously snapped it in the wrong direction.  Camelia winched at the cracking sound and watched wide-eyed as his body folded to the floor with a thud.

He was dead.

"Any others want to step forward?"  Liam asks the crowd, dusting his hands as if he killed for a living.

Stefan embraced Camelia tightly, protecting her as well as he could, looking around for any others that challenged them.

"What is this?"  The Sultan's deep accent roared behind them.

Every single head whipped back to the sound of his voice, a hushed silence descending over the crowd.  No one dared breath in his presence.

The wind rose, swaying the tips of the palm trees.  Where there wasn't a cloud in sight, a cluster appears and casts a shadow, blocking the sun as though emphasizing an impending doom.

At least fifty heavily armed soldiers file out behind their white robed leader.

"You will all die for your insolence."  He says calmly when nobody bothers to answer him.

Camelia stiffened, her body turning into a slab of stone.  Stefan glanced down and saw the upturned, disgusted expression etched on the plains of her face.

"Who is he?"  He whispers, low enough for her ears.

"T-the Sultan, and ruler of this land. The man who I was sold to as a sex slave."  She continued in a apprehensive whisper.

A force of pure rage flooded Stefan.   Although he did not show it, the thought of her being forced coiled his stomach into knots.

"Did....he...?" He barely managed the words, rapidly scanning her body.

"No, no he didn't have the chance.  But he was planning on it."  Her mouth felt too dry and she was quickly losing her balance to stay upright.

"Mother fuc–"

Camelia cuts him off abruptly grasping his bicep. "Stefan please."  She begged out of fear for him.

"You're a dead man!"  Stefan's loud voice echoed against the palace walls, grasping everyone's attention.

People gasped in shock and others covered their mouths.

"Please don't. Please." She pleaded, cupping the sides of his face and forcing him to look at her.

The rage dwelling deep within him was not to be put out easily.  His arms and muscles begged for violence.  He no longer possessed reservations.  He craved vengeance like he were a starving man needing water.

"Stay here and don't move." He released her and took a step forward.

At an attempt to stop him, Camelia frantically pulled at his black shirt, but he was too strong, too determined as he advanced and she was too powerless to stop him.  She could only stare at his relaxed stance, his body sleek and lean as he sauntered into the courtyard, moving with predatory grace.

"I am the King.  I rule this land and these people. You," the Sultan pauses to point at Stefan, giving him a distasteful fleeting glance. "Dare challenge me?"   He finishes in a deadly lethal tone.

"Yes.  And you're going to die."  Stefan simply stated.

The Sultan had the audacity to look insulted.

"What?  You expected me to look upon your army and tremble?"

The Sultan laughed, dismissing Stefan's words.   Camelia caught the flash of white teeth in his cold, sinister smile.

"I have over a hundred armed soldiers in the palace walls.  You have what belongs to me. I am her master. She is mine. " He says nodding at Camelia. "Surrender yourself now and your death will not be long."

At this, Camelia's stricken gaze flew to Stefan. She could see the from his powerful body, could feel the tension coil in the ridged set of his broad shoulders. The sheer male force emitting from him was fiercely overwhelming. Camelia had never witnessed Stefan look so in control, so ruthless and yet so full of rage all at once.

The crowd that once circled them parted, allowing Stefan to move past as though he were an immortal God. Words were not needed. Their actions were enough to show they respected him.

The silence returned. It sharpened and sizzled as the two men stared each other down. One trained to kill, while the other had people killed for him. Each waited for the other to strike.

Camelia shivers, her eyes wide and frantic.

A large group of the the Sultan's soldiers enter the full courtyard, flanking their leader ready and armed to fight. Suleiman smiles as though he already won.

"It's a shame you're going to choke on your own words. Guys!" Stefan yells. "Show yourselves!"  Stopping directly in front of the shorter man.

On command, a large fleet of men dressed in black op uniforms emerge from every direction. They rush through the gates carrying the latest machine guns, heavily armored and ready for combat. Snipers discreetly waited above the palace as they reveal there positions, huge assault rifles in their hands, aimed and ready.

As Camelia moved after Stefan, she became closer to the end of the circle where he had passed the gap. Standing with the others mutely, she never expected someone to seize her from behind and put a knife to her throat.

A strangled cry escapes her lips.  She was so tried of being man-handled.

With the knife against her neck momentarily forgotten, and the lethargy weighing her down, she attempted to use her elbow–the most powerful bone in her body and shoved it into her captor's abdomen.

He never saw it coming as he hunched slightly from the impact and managed to quickly overpowered her struggling in a tight grip.  However, she could not twist her upper body free of his hold without the knife cutting further into her skin.

If she had no energy to fight, she had no energy to survive. Camelia did what she could and stilled, held her breath and sobbed Stefan's name.

He quickly turned at her wail, nostrils flaring as he took in the scene. His fiery eyes pierced the short distance. Camelia fixed her stare and all her faith on him as she clung with both hands to the arm pulled around her throat.

"Go any closer and on my command she will die." The Sultan warned with a sneer.

Adrenaline rushed through Stefan's veins as his palms fisted at his sides.  Every single muscle in his body pulsed against his skin ready to kill.

"Ahhh, I see." The Sultan says smugly. "What is the term you American's use....hmmmm...?" Pretending to ponder, "Ah yes, have I struck a nerve? This woman is yours?"

Stefan's murderous gaze darkens.

"You use a woman to serve your purpose? Can't you fight your own battles? What a coward you are all mighty Sultan." Stefan mocks. "I have snipers ready to kill you and your men dead in an instant.  I have only to give the signal and you will all die....or you can surrender yourself now."

The King frowns at him stupidly as if he sprouted who heads. "I am not afraid of you!"

"You should be."  Stefan advised. "Your man over there will be dead before you can blink."  Without words, he makes visual contact with several concealed positions on the roof tops.

The answer comes when the silence is disturbed by the snipers rifle barrel loading bullets ready to fire.

"Kill her!" The Sultan orders in a shout.

The bare chested barbarian holding Camelia pressed the knife into the wound of her throat.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Stefan warned with a snarl.

The man hesitated, darting his confused gaze from his master to Stefan.

"Men, hold your positions."  Stefan orders, turning his back on the Sultan and his soldiers—a wild glint filling his eyes.

The Sultan's soldier backed away, panting and continued to hold Camelia hostage, the knife still pressed to her throat.  She lets out a moan of pain and shut her eyes tightly.

Stefan shifts his gaze above her head and nods once.  Before she knew it, the soldier staggered and released her. She gasped in surprise placing a hand over her throat.   Camelia looks behind her to only see Liam holding a gun to his temple.

Stefan strides forward until he stands in front of the man.  He wrenches him by his clothing, practically dangling his feet above the ground and punched him twice in the face with his free hand. Stefan shoved him away from him forcing him to topple to the ground, then removed the gun strapped to his side and shot the beaten man in both knees, and shoots him again in both arms.

The man screams in agony, buckling and thrashing as his blood seeped out of his wounds on the stones of the courtyard.

"That should teach you a lesson." Stefan says. "Liam, keep Camelia out of the way. This may get ugly."

His remark knocked the breath out of her. "Stefan No–don't...!" His gaze strangled the words in her throat. Liam clasps her arm gently, slightly dragging her backward.

"I need to finish this once and for all, and if you're not safe, I could get hurt Camelia. Trust me and for once listen." He replies calmly and redirects his attention back to the defiant, and very angry King. "As for you, surrender or there will be a bloodbath laying at your feet."

"Never!"

"Suit yourself. You've been warned." Stefan raises his arm and points the gun directly between the Sultan's eyes.

The King flinches slightly but holds his place, darting his gaze right then to the left uneasily. In the next instant the sounds of a bomb struck the outside wall of the palace. The vibrating impact ripples like tidal waves under their shoes as a cloud of black smoke blazed quickly followed.

The Sultan's complexion turned gray, and his forehead glistened with sweat.  A cluster of women rush out of the palace with high pitched screams in silk and robes, holding young to their chests.  They push by the guards trying to reach their king.

"The palace is under attack, explosives have been placed in every corner of the palace.  Sacrificing your pride is a small price to pay for the sake of your people."  Stefan sneered, still holding his gun at eye level.  "Yield now and the life of those you have under your protection will be spared."

Camelia felt the color drain from her face.  The women clung to the King's arms and robes, frantically begging him in their foreign language.  Nora was the loudest of them all, crying and grasping him by the waist, resting her head against his chest.

On closer inspection, Camelia could see the faint shadows forming under her eyes.  She and Nora had not been friends, exactly, but she hated to see how vulnerable she appeared nine months pregnant.

Stefan lowers his weapon to his side as the women circle their King.

"Raping women against their will in my book is a death sentence.  Do you really want to have your women see you dead at their feet?  Yield now and you will be tried by the law fairly."

The Sultan glanced at Nora in his arms, then peered over her head, trailing his gaze all around him noticing the heavily armed troops.  His army was no match against the men in Stefan's group.

But he refused to give up his country, his power to an American. Suleiman wrenched free of his mistresses and pushed Nora back roughly into the arms of one of his soldiers hovering close by and barked an order.

He takes three steps and stands proud and tall before Stefan.  His gaze dripped with pride and hatred.

"I challenge you to a duel. Let us fight like real men. With swords not firearms. May the last one standing win." The Sultan announces signaling one of his men, reaching for the sword placed in his hands. Suleiman orders for another sword as it's offered to Stefan.

"A duel? I don't have time for your little games."

"Coward." Suleiman taunted in a cruel whisper.

"We'll see who's the real coward." Stefan answers eyeing his long dress robe with a cocked eyebrow and shakes his head. "I'll allow you to try and salvage some of your pride in front of your people. But don't be surprised if I chop it up into a thousand little pieces." He held the heavy sword in his right hand, swinging it right and left on either side of his body expertly.

"You have experience, I see." King Sulieman noted. "I love a challenging opponent."

As a child and growing up into his teenage years, Stefan's grandfather introduced him to fencing as a sport. He was taught and trained by one of the best fencing instructors on earth. He established the rules, posture, footwork needed to disable a opponent. Although he never went back to the sport after going into the military, it was still fresh in his mind like it was yesterday.

"Let's get this over with." Stefan muttered.

Without warning, the Sultan lunges toward him with minimum effort, his footwork, Stefan noticed was on point and his years of training evident. He quickly sidesteps the attack and deflates his sword clashing briefly at the tip.

Stefan straightens his back and leg allowing him to maintain balance. His opponent in return takes a defensive stance.

They slice at each other with wide, arcs of their swords. They fight, every time the Sultan rushed at him, Stefan drove him back. With every passing moment, the Sultan's desperation grew while Stefan remained calm and steady, concentrating on defending against the numerous feints made to deceive him and disengaging his blade.

However, the Sultan gained the upper hand and forced Stefan's blade to a different line, slashing the front of his chest. He felt the sting and the blood ooze from the wound. However, it only managed to enrage him. The match grew ferocious with every passing moment. Sparks spilled from the blades and the air seemed charged with tension.

Stefan fought, parrying, thrusting, once driving the Sultan back until the wall blocked any further retreat.

Camelia held her breath as the match continued. Every sound of the blades clashing sent ice water trickling down her spine. It was as plain as daylight the two men plainly despised one another in such a short amount of time. After what felt like an eternity, Stefan spun, lunged and swung his sword arm and sent the Sultan's weapon clattering across the stones.

Stefan was breathing hard, his shirtfront and back soaked with perspiration as he watched his crimson faced opponent, his sword located at the tip of his throat. The Sultan did not flinch from the sharp pinch of the pointy blade but straightened his back, his head held up high, and thrust the tip with the back of his knuckles in an attempt to salvage his pride.

His throat was slashed slightly and bleeding from the force of knocking Stefan's blade. With his teeth bared, Stefan thrust his sword into his arm, the tip ripping through the three layers of skin, into a thick bulge of muscle and right out the other end. The Sultan stayed impaled on his weapon an expression of utter pain and torture crossed over his features.

"Trust me. If my woman wasn't a few feet away watching this, I would have taken great pleasure in slicing your flesh open and ripping out your heart from your chest and make you an example for the others."  Stefan spat.

"Nobody messes with what's mine.  Nobody."

With that said, Stefan swiftly pulls out his weapon with a quick jerk and flings it aside.  Suleiman grits his teeth, and groans softly desperately trying to keep his suffering as muted as possible.

"Get him out of my sight."

Camelia went down in a heap, having reached the end of her endurance.

The Sultan was half-dragged, half-carried as his hands were wretched behind his back and bound at the wrists.  Stefan's guards thrust him on and he obeyed without a word.

"Camelia?" Stefan advanced to where she sat with her folded arms resting atop her bent knees, her face buried in the crook of her arm.

He sank down beside her and touched her hair, running his hand down the curve of her back and began stroking her back gently offering her some sort of comfort. She made a strangled sound of anguish as she reached for him. He caught only a glimpse of her haunted face before she embraced him tightly and scrambled on his lap and straddled him.

In pain, without words, he wrapped his arms around her in protective silence. He could feel her trembling as she clutched onto his clothing with desperation.

"Shhhhh. You're safe now, Princess. You're safe."

She shuddered and Stefan held her more tightly.

"Here." Stefan's voice said after a while. "Have some water."

Camelia was barely conscious, but her thirst was as real as her fatigue, managing to drag open her eyelids, lift her head and slowly sipped from the canteen he held to her mouth.

Stefan eyed the open wound to her skin with anger.

"Are you bleeding anywhere else than your throat?" Stefan stroked damp tendrils of hair back from her forehead as she sank against him once again.

"No." She whispered.

Stefan kisses the top of her head briefly before catching some townspeople watching them.  It takes a murderous glare from him to stop them from staring and in response they quickly backed away and turn their faces.

"Stefan, that's enough.  Please." Camelia asks him warily not bothering lifting her head to look back, her face hidden against his neck.

The stifling heat was too intense, the air thick with moisture.  Camelia's robe was wet with perspiration and felt sticky against her body along with Stefan's body heat it was becoming unbearable.  Every muscle she didn't know existed in her body throbbed. Camelia frowned in distaste wishing she could bathe and sink into a soft bed and never wake up.

"I want to go." She whispered hoarsely.

Stefan once tense body softens and he bends his head to give her a chaste kiss on the lips.

"Your wish is my command."

He scooped her up carefully into his arms and rose.  Her body went limp instantly as she slipped into unconsciousness.  He kissed her smooth forehead and whispered her name, urging her to rest and not worry, telling her he could not possibly live another day without her.

Like a knight that came to rescue his princess to carry her off to safety....

...Stefan carried Camelia like his most treasured possession.

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This was super hard to write.

Thanks for your patience everyone.  The waiting is the hardest part.

Don't forget to vote, comment and share with others.

Thanks

-Shaz