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

kill demons. I was hoping for a quiet job of dispensing medicines and learning magic. I have had enough of parasites.”

They stared at him.

Jonis stepped to the edge of the line. “Now, are we going to do this or not? The demons will eventually eat out the insides of those bodies and leave the corpses. It is better to get rid of them now than later.”

The captain drew in a breath and nodded. “All right. Do it, men.”

It took a great deal of strength to step up to the circle and noose the captives with the demon chains, but they did, watching the worms come out of them. Friends slaughtered the slimy demons, sobbing as they hacked the worms into jelly. With a wave, Jonis had them set the corpses on fire. Every man in there wept as they watched the bodies burn. The barrier held in the enormous blaze.

Jonis closed his eyes. Though tears tickled the back of his eyelids, pushing to get out, he kept them back. Yes, he knew their pain too well. But his pain hurt him more. Once again he stood as the silent outsider. There was no way they would regard him as anything other than a bloodthirsty demon. No way.

A melody rose from his throat. It started low, and then grew as words Jonis barely knew passed his lips. “Life is not just a thing for now. Never ending we’ll ascend, though the sweat upon our brow, beads as we reach our end. Into the darkness, we’ll see light—a tunnel to the wider room. And out of our world into the night, we will leave this dismal gloom. Onward, upward, we’ll ascend. Hand in hand, family and friend. Onward, upward to the sky. Lifting, reaching to the utmost high.”

“I’ve never heard that song before,” Lt. Laslow said in a low voice, watching Jonis with less fear somehow. “Where does it come from?”

Opening his eyes, Jonis wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. He tried to smile so they would not see that he was weak. “Uh…I’m not sure. My memory is so full…. It goes way back is all I know.”

The captain cleared his throat. He did it again, turning to the men. “Ok, men, we have a task ahead of us. There are still hundreds out there. We are to go demon hunting, under the guise of a cure. I want you to listen to this private and do as he instructs. I think we will have less casualties this way.”

Every face turned to look at Jonis. It was intimidating, suddenly leading a small army. He was barely getting used to the idea of being a private, let alone a full-time magister. Still, looking at the expectant faces, Jonis drew in a breath and formulated a plan.

“Ok…um, you three. You were there when I killed the first one. I need you to instruct the others how to use the demon chain so you can capture the infected ones. We’ll go to the hospital first. I fear that the doctor there might be infected, as well as all the patients. Family would take sick people there anyway. It was reported as a plague, after all.” Jonis looked at the captain. “I think that you had better organize teams for the rest of the work. One man to handle the chain. The other two to kill the worm. One of them should always have the makings for a fire. We should never attempt to move the bodies. We could get infected. Keep your distance and kill the worms. Any questions?”

“Yeah? What if they try to escape?” that lieutenant who had already asked so many questions asked again.

Jonis rolled his eyes. “I have demon wards at all the gates. The guards are under strict orders to keep away from them and shoot anyone, demon or human, that attempts to climb the wall. Our advantage is that worm demons cannot fly.”

“There are parasites that can fly?” a corporal exclaimed.

“Bird parasites. And they are much worse than worms, believe me,” Jonis said with a shudder.

Cap. Powal turned to Lt. Laslow. “I want you to organize teams for the outer parts of the city.” He turned to Jonis. “I want you to organize your team for the hospital. I want you at the source. We may have to burn down the entire building.”

Jonis blinked at him. “You want me to set fire to the city hospital?”

The captain nodded. “Yes. Can you make a fire ward around it?”

“I can make a demon ward around it if needs be, but—don’t we want to save those that aren’t infected?” Jonis said, breathless.

The captain nodded again. “If we can, but I don’t want to risk sending my men in there if it is full of demons. You can handle it.”

That was it. Jonis realized that they saw him as an incredibly powerful demon. Fight demons with a demon. It was that simple. He wondered if they would have a use for him after the crisis was over.

He bowed his head. “I’ll do it.”

Chapter Twelve: Meeting Doctors

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“A brew is Herbalist magic—using water or another liquid as a base for combining herbs and activating their chemical properties by applying heat through boiling.”

 

 

 

 

Lieutenant Laslow organized his teams, arming all the men with earplugs, facemasks, and pockets filled with garlic, carrying weapons to herd all people who were sick to the city hospital. If any resisted, the solders were to treat them as demons, making doubly sure with demon chains. Jonis took his team and prepared them likewise.

Dividing his team into two parts, Jonis brought a mock brew to the hospital (one full of garlic) and ordered the people to take it. The nurses trotted forward, making irritated noises at him.

“What nonsense!” one nurse snapped, glaring her bilious eyes at Jonis with an air that reeked of more than just contempt. “That is only garlic tea!”

Jonis blinked at her as if he did not know she had a demon inside, and said, “It is preparatory for the final treatment. Everyone knows that garlic tea has a purging effect, especially for small tiny parasites.”

The woman flustered. “You are a quack! That is folk medicine! We are scientific!”

He just shrugged then trotted up the stairs to check out each of the wards. His team of men carried the pot of tea, masked and secretly wearing demon chains around their necks which were hidden under their uniforms. Jonis was the only one walking about unprotected.

Many of the sick refused the drink. A few gratefully took the garlic brew and chugged it down. Those people, Jonis ordered removed from the hospital, declaring them cured. He and his men did this, room-to-room, top to bottom, until the entire place was empty of the few uninfected people. The rest, Jonis declared, were not allowed to leave the hospital until they drank the tea. The diseased people noticed there were soldiers standing with their electric prods at the entrances to make sure his words were enforced.

While Jonis was inside the hospital doing all this, another team worked hard outside gathering as much flammable liquid as they could find. Alongside them, another set of men walked around the buildings, evacuating all the residents that lived next door to the hospital. Any sick they found, they sent up to take the garlic tea. Those that refused were forced into the hospital, committed as though infected with the plague.

The doctor that ran the hospital came out, shouting at the lieutenant. The doctor had a professional and dignified air about him, smoking a pipe and occasionally adjusting his tinted glasses on his nose. “What is going on here? Why are you letting that blue-eyed freak stomp around my establishment? He is disturbing the patients, and he has removed some very sick people from their beds!”

The lieutenant blinked calmly at him. The odor Jonis had pointed out to be the rotting slime from the worms reeked from the doctor’s mouth. While maintaining his composure, the lieutenant replied plainly, “You do not like our new magister’s methods? Perhaps you had better write up a complaint and send it to the captain. He only takes complaints in writing.”

Snarling, the doctor spun on his heel and stomped back inside the hospital as if to do just that. However, he soon returned with a clipboard, a pen, and a stack of papers tacked on the board. Stabbing his pen to his paper, the doctor glared at each of the soldiers working around the building, speaking aloud his complaints as he wrote.

“…Demon rampaging around the hospital, forcing bogus cures on the patients….” He glared up at the soldiers that stood around with their weapons. “Using unnecessary force….” He looked up and saw one man roll a large barrel of refined liquor into the hospital square. “Drunkenness?”

“You there!” the doctor shouted at the solider. “What is that for?”

The soldier blinked at him, hesitating before responding. “It’s for some construction changes.”

“Construction changes?” the doctor echoed in disbelief. He noticed another group of men march over to the building on the right of the hospital, carrying picks and sledgehammers. They heaved their tools against the wall and started to knock down the stone gate that blocked the alley from the main road.

“Hey you! Quit that! The noise will disturb the patients!”

The doctor ran up to them. But when he arrived, he saw that the soldiers were wearing earplugs.

“More patients for you,” Lt. Laslow announced, nodding as one group pf soldiers prodded ten men into the hospital.

The doctor marched over to him. “Lieutenant Laslow, what is going on? Why are men knocking down walls, and why is that liquor over there?”

The lieutenant gave him a polite nod. “Oh, Doctor Frieser, yes, I suppose this is a strange occurrence. Quite unusual.”

“Explain it!” the doctor shouted.

The lieutenant shrugged. “I can’t. The ways of a magister are mysterious.”

People gathered thickly onto the street, watching the scene. In and out of the crowd, soldiers were administering the “cure” to the onlookers. Those that refused to drink it were told that they either had to drink the garlic brew or they had to go into the hospital. Out of the crowd, people trickled into the hospital, their bilious eyes glaring peevishly at the soldiers.

Jonis suddenly trotted out of the hospital, waving the last of the soldiers with two crippled men out onto the street. He grinned once at the lieutenant and stuck his thumbs in to the air. “All set.”

“What is going on?” The doctor spun around, shouting at him.

Blinking, Jonis glanced at Lt. Laslow. “I don’t have a clue. I’m under orders from the captain.”

He dashed off to the edge of the crowd to where a man stood with a large bucket of white paint and a paintbrush ready for him. Jonis took both.

Gazing up at the air, Jonis paced along the edge of the crowd until he faced north. Dipping his brush into the paint, Jonis applied the paint to the ground, dragging a long line across the concrete. He filled in all the cracks, making it perfectly smooth.

“What is he doing?” The doctor’s voice was getting shrill.

“Painting, apparently,” Lt. Laslow replied. He turned from the doctor and merged back with the crowd, calling for more soldiers to help clear out