Author's Note: I went a little long again, so I hope the story carries the length for those reading Laresa's tale. Apologies for the delay between Ch. 23 and 24 as well.
Almost no sex in this chapter, either. Just a little heads-up for anyone who might be looking for a stroke story.
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The Dark Ages – England
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The ringing of metal on metal echoed through the still air. Jonathon grunted, blinking the sweat out of his blue eyes, as he parried Kain's overhand strike. Furrowing his brow, Jonathon stepped back and prepared for his adopted brother's next move. The strike Kain had just launched could have seriously hurt him, had he not deflected it so well. Even dull practice weapons could be deadly when wielded with the sort of power Kain threw into his blows.
Kelanor laughed, urging on his son. Jonathon did his best to ignore it, knowing he had to keep his guard up, if he didn't want to be nursing painful injuries while doing his chores later. Dancing back from a swipe of Kain's sword, Jonathon countered with a blow of his own. In truth, he could have easily penetrated Kain's guard, but Jonathon moved just slow enough to allow Kain the opportunity to parry. Long ago, Jonathon had learned the folly of making his adopted brother look bad, and he knew better than to ever do it again.
Kain deflected Jonathon's half-hearted strike, but slipped slightly in the mud as he did so. Jonathon again attacked, knowing that Kelanor watched carefully, and if he didn't take advantage of the opening offered by the slip, he would surely be punished for it. Once again, Jonathon swung at Kain's shield arm, with the intention of allowing him to recover, and block the blow.
Some of Kain's extensive training showed through, as the young man regained his balance, sending Jonathon's strike high. Jonathon expected the counter, and saw it coming, but recognized an opportunity for Kain to land a blow on him – one that shouldn't hurt too much when it hit. With a grunt, he accepted the blow to his side, mostly blunted by his armor. He would have a bruise, but nothing that would bother him much as he worked later.
Kelanor shouted, "Enough!"
Jonathon came to attention immediately, knowing that even a moment's hesitation would draw a rebuke. Kain, on the other hand, chose to take the opportunity to smash his shield against Jonathon's chest. Jonathon stood firm, putting one foot back to maintain his balance.
"I said enough, Kain!" Kelanor crossed the courtyard toward the two young men. Glancing at Jonathon for a moment, he absently muttered, "Off to your chores, Boy."
"Yes, Sir," Jonathon replied, hurrying to get out of his armor and store away his weapon. He knew that he had to care for his equipment properly, or he would be punished. Likewise, he would be expected to deal with Kain's weapons and armor later as well. Listening to Kelanor praise his son, Jonathon had to fight down a surge of jealousy. Reminding himself that he was just an adopted orphan, and lucky to have what he did, Jonathon moved quickly to the kitchen entrance.
As he passed his other adopted brother, the older man followed Jonathon inside. Once they were within the castle, out of hearing range of his father, Michael said, "You could have parried that strike – and you could have struck him on numerous occasions."
Not sure what to say, Jonathon hesitated. After a moment, he settled on replying, "I must not have been thinking well in the heat, Michael."
Sighing, Michael shook his head. "You were thinking perfectly well. You let that blow land, and you purposely avoided easy hits. What will Kain learn if you do not take advantage of his mistakes?"
Frustration and embarrassment swelled up within Jonathon. He knew Michael's words were perfectly true. He also knew what would happen to him if he took them to heart, however. Michael spent most of his time on the other side of Kelanor's lands, managing the knights in another castle. He could not know what Jonathon went through, whenever he let his true skills show. "I'm sure you could have, Sir, but I'm just not that good."
"You must stand up for yourself, Brother. If you allow Kain to bully you, he will do so for all of your life. Consider it, Jonathon." Clapping Jon on the shoulder, Michael walked the opposite way down the stone corridor.
Jonathon took a deep breath, wishing it were so easy, and made his way toward the armory, to put away his equipment.
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Present Day –
Headquarters of the Society of Djinn
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Benjamin walked down the trail at a brisk pace, moving toward the cavern that served as the headquarters for the Society. He considered it lucky that he hadn't been pulled over, considering how fast he had been driving on the way back from the airport. He simply could not contain his excitement, and wanted to get to work immediately on the two fascinating objects within the metal box he carried.
The first several days of searching had been quite disappointing. He had located three or four of the ritual burials, only to find the objects that should have been entombed there missing. Despite the pains of his ancestors to keep the objects hidden, the amount of ritual involved in the creation of the Djinn imposed rigid structure on every element of the process. Once he had located the first empty cache, the second had proved to be a measured distance away – identical to the distance required for the burial of the ashes from the sacrifice.
Finally, he had found the flattened silver pearl, shot through with diamond dust. The next cache had likewise yielded a teardrop shaped piece of amber, with a golden sphere within. Two of the objects in hand, Benjamin had decided to return and study them. He could go back at any time to search for more, if the items proved to be important.
Nodding to the sentry, Benjamin stepped into the wall of cool air emerging from the cavern, heading quickly toward the hidden door within. Once inside the headquarters proper, he increased his pace. So close to his equipment and notes now, he couldn't wait to get to work. In his eagerness to reach his room, he didn't even notice the man coming out of an intersecting corridor. They collided, shoulder to shoulder, jarring both men.
"I'm sorry, Daron, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," Benjamin began. A buzzing and vibration from the box he carried cut off any other words, as did the strange look on Daron's face. Daron looked down at a box he carried, and Ben could hear a faint buzz emerging from it.
Fascinated, and now more excited than ever, "Have you found one of the artifacts? Is it in there?"
Daron looked around nervously, "Yes, but keep your voice down."
Benjamin realized that Daron was part of the group advocating the use of the Djinn to complete their mission of finding all the artifacts. Considering the way Daron was acting, it was obvious that the group planned to keep this artifact – or that they had decided to utilize them.
"Come with me to my room for a moment, where we can talk in private," Benjamin requested.
After a moment's hesitation, Daron nodded and followed Ben down the hall, skipping a little at first in an attempt to keep up with Benjamin's brisk pace.
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Back in the Dark Ages...
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Jon breathed a sigh of relief as he finished washing the last pot, and put it away. The castle was quiet, the edges of the kitchen lost in a dark gloom, only a circle of flickering torchlight illuminating the space around Jonathon.
Though he knew he would have to be up in only a few hours, Jonathon simply couldn't bear the thought of going to bed without bathing. Between sweating through the sparring match earlier with Kain, and washing all the dishes in the sweltering kitchen, he was gagging on his own smell.
Pouring a little hot water into the round metal tub, just enough to take off the bite of the cold water filling it, Jonathon kicked off his over-large leather shoes. He then stripped off his simple linen tunic and trousers, and shook out his sandy-blonde hair.
The torchlight reflected off the sweat glistening on Jonathon's body, enhancing the appearance of his well-muscled frame. Accustomed to hard work, and lean – but nourishing – rations, Jonathon was a striking figure. Stepping into the tub, he squatted down to splash water over him. The tub was far too small for him even to sit down in, but it served the purpose well enough. He would have to mop up the water splashed out afterwards, but the bath was worth it to Jonathon.
He felt much better, if a little cramped up, once he finished rinsing the sweat and grime off. Bringing a hand to his chin, he frowned at the stubble there. While the rest of the family sported well-groomed beards, Jonathon simply couldn't abide the facial hair. He remembered tasting his soup three hours after he ate it when he had let it grow out, and decided never to do it again at that point. Walking over to a cabinet, Jonathon retrieved his razor. He lamented the additional mopping the trail of water would require, and cursed the lack of foresight that necessitated it.
Kneeling down on the hard stone, Jonathon splashed water on his face, and went to work with the razor. A few minutes later, he ran his hand over his chin, and grunted in satisfaction. Grabbing a cloth, he blotted the rest of the water from his body, and then turned to pull on his clothing.
He paused for a moment, thinking he saw movement in the gloom of the kitchen doorway. Shrugging his shoulders, deciding that his eyes were playing tricks on him, Jonathon dressed and picked up the tub to take it outside and empty it.
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Unknown to Jonathon, a brightly blushing young woman hurried through the halls back to her bedroom. Hoping to find some warm milk to help her sleep, Caroline had stepped in front of the kitchen door just as Jonathon turned – revealing himself to her in all his naked glory.
A mixture of shame and excitement boiled within Caroline as she closed her door behind her. Recently come to live with her uncle when her parents passed on, she had felt her heart flutter the moment she saw the foundling, Jonathon. The image of the young man, nude and gloriously handsome, now added strength to the troubling feelings Caroline harbored for her adopted cousin.
Sleep came to her with even more difficulty now, her stomach in knots and her loins tingling annoyingly.
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