Jonis - Rowan Erlking (web based ebook reader .TXT) 📗

they did so. Some parasites were already found on the floor in the showers, wriggling in the soap and water. These were washed into a drain treated with vinegar. Then, everyone was sent to the mess hall and forced to drink the pungent brew, three glasses full. Some men retched and were made to take it again. Finally the last part came. Those that reported any diarrhea, upset stomach, or discomfort in the anus had to present himself to the doctor’s office immediately for treatment. There was a long line for that as well.

Not all the camp was infected. Mostly those who had associated with the new recruits turned up. Lieutenant Chappel was in the doctor’s office moaning from stomach pain. When he saw Jonis hand a large pipette filled with a white solution to the doctor, he practically scrambled to get away. “I don’t know what you are doing with that, but you are not doing it to me!”

“Calm down,” the doctor said, shaking his head. “I’ve already successfully treated fifty men, and they are happily resting in the other room. Now pull down your pants and bend over.”

Jonis averted his eyes, hastily marching out of the room to check on his next batch of rectum wash. Closing the curtain, he heard the man moan. Biting his lip so his laughs would not escape, Jonis picked up the spoon and stirred the pot of milk spiced with clove oil and salt. He ran his hand over it and recited the incantation. “Rivers flow south. Fish swim to the sea. Draw from the well. Come to me.”

He tapped the pot once. “Trap.”

The liquid rippled blue. Then it returned its original white. Jonis took the pot off the fire and set it aside to cool. Taking another pot, Jonis placed it on the flame stand and measured the milk.

“Are you done yet?” the doctor asked, parting the curtain. “I have another patient waiting.”

Turning, Jonis nodded. “I just finished another batch. There is still some in that other pot also. I’ll fill a clean pipette for you.”

The doctor set the one he was holding into the boiling water that sat next to the potion. “Don’t bother. I’ll get it. You make more of that stuff. Personally, I find it inconvenient that you can only make it in small batches.”

Jonis laughed. “I don’t think the recipe would be effective if we doubled it. And I doubt anyone would want to go through the experience again if it doesn’t work.” He turned and measured a tablespoon of clove oil, dumping it in. “Oh, by the way, how did Lieutenant Chappel turn out?”

“Oh….” The doctor shook his head, moaning. “He was ultra infested. You should have seen the load that came out of him. When he sat on the pot, I swear he dumped an entire bucket load.”

Cringing, Jonis chuckled. “Oh, no. I’m glad I wasn’t there for that. It was bad enough seeing Mr. Stinky’s buckets full, thank you.”

The doctor grabbed a clean pipette and filled it with the cool mixture. “Keep making that stuff. If you run out of clove oil, I already have it on order. Just holler.”

He left.

Jonis put in the teaspoon of salt, turning up the heat. He stirred and waited for it to boil so he could start the spell.

 

As it turned out, none from Jonis’s troop was infected. In fact, when medical team were finished treating the last patients, they had extra potion to use for later if there was ever a resurgence of the parasite infestation.

It was early in the morning when they stopped treating people. Jonis crawled back into his bed just an hour before he had to get up again. By that time, push-ups were a joke and the morning jog felt as painful as the first day he had come to camp. Jonis slept through breakfast and was not able to keep focused during fight training. The master actually shouted at him. That is, until Emrit told him about what Jonis had been up to all night. The master let up considerably after that.

Only Sergeant Romley seemed to think Jonis was just being lazy. He made Jonis run an extra three miles that night before dinner. Midway through the run, though, Emrit, Cyle, Korin and even Oprin (who had seen the slimy vats of worms they had collected for disposal when he was sneaking around the doctor’s office for valerian root) joined him. They helped Jonis finish the run so he could rest before the evening drills.

Jonis slept well that night, disturbed only once by a new memory of an ancestor who spent his life herding sheep in the west. He woke to their baaing at around four in the morning. Rolling over, Jonis exhaled deeply trying to sleep.

 

“What do you dream of every night?” Emrit asked him when he pulled his bedcovers straight for inspection.

Scratching the back of his neck, Jonis blushed. “Do I wake you?”

Emrit shook his head. “Not really. But you toss a lot, and I heard you cry out once.”

Jonis’s face went a shaded of pink. He stood at the end of his bed. “Sorry. I—”

“Don’t apologize. I’m just curious. Who is Camus?” Emrit asked.

That threw Jonis back into a distant memory. It was hard to pull it out. “I…I’m not sure.”

Emrit shook his head. “You just seemed really mad at him. About a week ago you shouted that you’d get him, no matter what. I assumed you meant to kill him.”

Blinking, Jonis scratched his head. He shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t remember who Camus is. I have a lot of weird dreams about people I barely know—memories that were passed on to me.”

“Like last night?” Emrit asked.

Nodding slowly, Jonis smirked at him. “Ok, what did I say last night?”

Emrit glanced at the ceiling. “You, uh, just told someone to shut up and lie still. It was pretty freaky.”

Nodding more, Jonis laughed. “I was dreaming about herding sheep. Have you ever sheered a sheep? Generally they lie still for you. But one, oh, was so obnoxious. I had no idea I had shouted that aloud.”

But Emrit did not seem to believe Jonis. It was true that Jonis could wriggle out of telling the truth with the best of them. But then he also came up with the most detailed accounts of things that happened in history that no one knew about. They had heard once of his passed-along memory. But it was hard to trust what he said sometimes.

“You dreamed about sheep?” Emrit said.

Jonis nodded, shrugging. “One of my ancestors was a sheep herder.”

“Right.” Emrit looked up at the ceiling.

Before Jonis could answer him, the sergeant came in and started the morning inspection.

 

Thing was, it was difficult for Jonis to maintain friends.

As the weeks passed, there were times that the men were reminded that Jonis was not human, and they pulled back. Usually it happened when he was fighting the master for practice while the others sparred among themselves. At other times they were reminded during new training, such as when Jonis took up the long bow on their first archery practice and hit the farthest target dead center on the first try. Watching him get sent off to run while they struggled to learn a new weapon-handling skill filled a great many of them with terror. Of course, just one look at Jonis’s intense blue eyes made them wonder if this demon was not plotting to kill them all in their beds.

By the sixth month, Jonis had finished studying yet another scroll and had started his third. This one had more advanced potions and spells. Inside he found serious incantations for things like demon wards and shield spells. These, Jonis practiced in a more secluded part of the camp where there were less watching eyes.

“What is he doing over there?” Julwes asked a troop-mate. They had stopped on their way to the latrine and spotted Jonis standing on a bare patch of land.

The recruit shook his head. “Sure beats me. But look at him. He’s drawing something on the ground.”

“Do you want to find out?” Julwes whispered near his ear.

That man just shook his head. “Are you crazy? Interrupt a demon in the middle of who knows what? I’m not sticking around to find out.”

He walked off. But Julwes stayed. He watched until he saw Oprin pass by. Grabbing Oprin by the arm, he hissed into his ear what he saw and wanted to do. When Oprin saw Jonis, he nodded, thinking it was something he wanted to see up close. If anything, if Jonis was up to no good, they’d have proof to take to Sergeant Romley and Staff Sergeant Hybiss.

They crossed the open space.

Jonis looked up when he heard their feet. Blinking, he glanced around the area then picked up a stick, hastily drawing in the dirt a circle around himself. They quickened their pace, watching him glance up at them and write something around the circle, speaking aloud. “North. East. South. West. Ward encircle and protect from hate.” He clapped his hands together and shouted, “Shield!”

“Hey, spit face,” Oprin picked up a stone and weighed it in his hands. “What are you doing out here?”

He threw the rock.

Jonis had closed one eye—but it was not necessary. The rock ricocheted off of the air in front of him, slighting to the right. Jonis pried open his eye, staring at Oprin and Julwes who were gaping at him.

“It worked!” He grinned, peering at the air around him. Jonis folded his arms and nodded to the two men. “I bet you can’t touch me.”

“Who’d want to try?” Oprin snapped, stepping back.

“What just happened?” Julwes pointed at him.

Grinning, Jonis lifted his chest. “I just created an invisible shield. You can’t hurt me while I stand in it.”

Both men blinked at him.

“No way,” Oprin said, glancing at the simple marks scratched in the dirt. He walked forward and reached out an arm to test it. A shock jolted him back. Clutching his fingers, Oprin stared at Jonis. “This is….”

“A hate ward,” Jonis finished for him.

Julwes glanced around, seeing other circles drawn and marked on the ground. “Is that what you’ve been doing this whole afternoon? Making these funky circles in the ground?”

Jonis shook his head, pointing through the barrier. “Oh, no, they are not all the same. That black one is a demon barrier. It only holds out demons. The white one is a demon circle. It holds in demons.”

Oprin stepped into the black circle. “Then this one would protect me from you?”

Stepping from his dirt-drawn circle, Jonis shook his head.

“Nope. These circles don’t have an effect on me. Apparently they don’t work on Cordrils.”

“You lie,” Julwes shoved Jonis into the white circle. “And now you are stuck! I know these things work. I’ve seen them.”

Taking one large step over the white line, Jonis shook his head at him. “Nope. Wrong. I told you, Cordrils are not the same as other demons. Now, if you made a hate ward and stepped into it, maybe it could repel me if I hated you and wanted to hurt you. But,” Jonis walked up to Oprin and stepped over the black line, “the other circles only affect local flesh eating demons. Some spells are demon specific.”

Oprin staggered back from the circle. He jumped over the hate ward line. “Now you can’t hurt me.”

Jonis shook his head and sighed as if dismayed. “Actually, it only works for the person who says the spell. As long as I am in it, you can’t hurt me. And now that you are in it, if you keep hating me, you can’t get out.”

Sure enough, the barrier held Oprin in. He pushed against the invisible wall, but the power in it pushed him back. Oprin’s face went a sick white. “Julwes! Get me out! I’m stuck!”

“He can’t help you,” Jonis said. “Only I can get you out.”

Jonis extended a hand over the invisible barrier.

“All you have to do is take my hand and swear not to try and hurt me