Jonis, Rowan Erlking [first e reader txt] 📗

eat, actually. They chatted and shared their birthday tradition with him, toasting Jonis and laughing at all the things they found amusing about him. Many of the men had prepared statements ahead of time, though they tried to not let on that they did this. Ordinarily it was to be spontaneous. But in the case of a ‘demon’ it was harder to find things that were amusing.

“Remember when Private Macoy first set up his room? I was there. He tried to move the entire cabinet with everything still on it and it toppled onto his head,” Lt. Laslow announced to everyone. He was laughing rather hard, already starting into the bottle of spirits that he had brought along anyway. Jonis had learned early on that Lt. Laslow loved to drink. “The kid always takes on more than he can handle. Here’s to the bold and brave! My advice for the new year is for you to empty the shelves first!”

“Cheers!” the men shouted and downed their bottles of liquor. Some downed less toxic substances, winking at Jonis as they handed him a glass of mixed fruit juices.

“I have one!” Cpl. Devis marched into the room, carrying a fat tub of frozen custard. He crossed the room and opened the icebox to put it in. “Last week Jonis was washing at the public bath and someone had stolen his identification tags and his gloves.”

Jonis covered his head and moaned.

“He went all over that bathhouse trying to find them, including down the drains. And it wasn’t until he got to the proprietor’s office that he found them.” Cpl. Devis snorted. “In the women’s area. A guy had sold them for thirty gold pieces to admirers he has.”

“Oooh!” the soldiers burst into snickers. “Secret admirers!”

“He bought them back, and ever since then he has been washing with both things on.” The office secretary laughed. “My advice to you is, be careful of all those ladies. You are growing into one manly man. And they are only going to like you more because you wear that uniform.”

They could only see his pink ears and the back of his pale neck. Jonis still hid his head, pretending to whimper.

“Cheers!” They downed another glass.

They shared more embarrassing tales. One recalled how Jonis had to teach the doctor how to administer an enema. Others recounted when they had to present arms, drawing their swords for inspection by the city patriarch during the Brein Amon Independence Day. Jonis’s sword was still the broken saber that the hunter had hacked in two. He had stared at the stump, shrugged, and held it up among all the other impressive soldiers. Other stories were not the embarrassing ones, but expressions of gratitude, especially for the unexpected help Jonis had been during the infestation clean up and even afterward. In the middle of it all, Lt. Gillway handed over the official green envelope.

“What’s this?” Jonis asked, peering at it, gingerly taking it from the lieutenant’s hands.

“Our response. The Patriarch of Brein Amon has answered us,” Lt. Gillway said. “Open it.”

Turning to glance at the captain, Jonis’s breathing went shallow. He eagerly tore open the seal though he handled the paper inside with more care. Just the touch of the document sent chills of excitement through him. The paper was on the finest linen weave, yellowed and thick. He just peered at the Sovereign’s Seal, the symbol of their country. Then he looked for the Patriarch’s signature. It was there—real lead ink written by his real hand and not one of those stamped copies either the top brass used to approve things. It was the real thing.

“Read it!” Lt. Laslow said, slurring. “Is gotta be what we asked. C’mon, Private.”

Jonis took a deep breath and read aloud:

 

Dear Captain Ugenis Ramod Powal of Ladis, post fifty-eight,

Accept my kindest regards concerning your successful eradication of the plague on our borders. My further gratitude is expressed without bounds for your stalwart efforts to maintain the boundaries of our land and in preserving our way of life. The city patriarch has voiced his profound gratitude for your swift and able service. I have received your requests to continue to cleanse out the debauchery in your boundaries as well as of your mitigating circumstances. Your requests to form a demon-hunting unit to clear the countryside around the city have been summarily accepted by the Council of Fourteen and myself. Further, I encourage you to maintain control over all demon elements under your charge.

With Generous Bestowal,

 

The Patriarch of Brein Amon

 

Jonis’s mouth had gone dry. He looked up at the captain. “Does that mean we can go out of the city and help the villages in our area?”

Cap. Powal nodded. “It does. You have your wish, Private. Happy Birthday.”

“And that’s not all!” Lt. Gillway said, rushing over to the back wall and reaching behind the icebox. He carried over the long, thin, wrapped package. “This is for you.”

Taking it, Jonis unwrapped the paper. Inside was what he hoped: a sword, one that was not broken.

Jumping to his feet, Jonis received several congratulatory pats on the back and head. “Well done!” “Good for you!” “Congratulations!” It didn’t matter to him how sincere they were. Jonis knew what this request meant to the other soldiers, as well as his captain and the city officials. They wanted to keep him busy. Apparently the Patriarch of Brein Amon was thinking the same thing.

Lt. Gillway was one of the last to congratulate Jonis. These words Jonis believed were truly sincere. The lieutenant was grinning, watching Jonis draw his sword and peer at the slim blade.

“Yeah, I know. Too thin for demon hunting,” the lieutenant said. “I’ll see if I can put in a petition for thicker swords next.”

That made Jonis laugh. He sheathed his sword. Turning, Jonis bowed to his captain. “Thank you, sir. I know your recommendation for our team made it pull through. We will serve you proudly.”

“I know you will,” Cap. Powal said with a bright grin, winking at Lt. Gillway. “I have already selected your team members. But remember, they are your superiors, and you take orders from them. By the end of the year, I expect them to know as much about demons as you do.”

“I will do my best to teach them, sir,” Jonis said, bowing once more. He then saluted.

“Happy Birthday.” The captain saluted back. “And good luck.”

 

Jonis lay in his bed, rereading the letter.

Their request to have a group of men clear out the demon worms that may still surround the city in the countryside had been accepted. Jonis had heard of magisters that had come to solve the problem once word got out, but what he had heard of their successes had varied results. One village was reported to be overrun and the magister killed. In another, the magister charged an exorbitant amount that the villagers could barely pay. It was hard for Jonis not to think of his home village and the things Mr. Farren had said to him. Cities were protected from most demon attacks because of their numbers, but villages were highly vulnerable. He did not want to live safely in a city if he knew the entire countryside was overrun. Luckily for him, they didn’t want to keep him in the city with nothing to do. Jonis knew exactly what they thought concerning him. The last line of the letter confirmed that. Further, I encourage you to maintain control over all demon elements under your charge. Jonis knew that meant him.

Sighing at the poorly veiled remark, Jonis folded up the paper. It didn’t matter that people were still terrified that he was a demon. If anything, it gave him a chance to go out and do some good.

“Not sleepy?” Lt. Gillway said, standing in the doorway. “It was just two hours ago that you complained of being exhausted.”

Jonis yawned for his benefit.

“You are awfully strange, sleeping with your eyes open.” The lieutenant stepped into the room. “You had better sleep. I got our first assignment. The village of Dobus has had some bad exposure to demon worms. They are begging for our help. After that, we go to Franken. We don’t even return until after five other places. The captain says that we need to clear out the worms pretty thoroughly to—”

Jonis had closed his eyes.

“You really were tired, weren’t you?” the lieutenant’s distant voice said.

“Exhausted,” Jonis muttered. “Who’s on our team?”

Grinning, Lt. Gillway read the list he had in his hands. “We get Corporal Pegsley. Lieutenant Pratch, Corporal Higges, and Corporal Wigg.”

Opening an eye, Jonis said, “Corporal Wigg? Why him? He gets so squeamish when he sees blood. And Pegsley the Pimple?”

Shrugging, the lieutenant handed him the paper. “Don’t ask me. Maybe the captain wants you to make a man out of him.”

Jonis laughed. He closed his eyes again, rolling over in his blankets. Lt. Laslow was singing a loud drinking song from the kitchen. The party had continued on even after Jonis had decided to go to bed. Suddenly a loud boom from a chair toppling over accompanied by loud laughter thundered from the other room. Lt. Gillway closed the door.

“Jonis, are you really sure you want to do this? I mean, five men and you demon hunting with what little experience we have. What do we know about it?”

Jonis sat up with a dismayed look directed at Lt. Gillway. “I thought you wanted to do this. You were the one that mentioned making the team. I was only remarking that it’d be a good idea to clear out the countryside of problems.”

Nodding, Lt. Gillway frowned. “I know. I know. It’s just…well, all men get a little nervous before something dangerous. Don’t you?”

The young Cordril nodded. “Of course I do. But, don’t you feel that some things are more important that personal safety?”

Lt. Gillway sighed. He gazed at Jonis, peering at his crystal blue eyes. The noise from the other room continued as loudly as ever.

“I envy you.”

“Envy me?” Jonis pulled back with a drowsy stare. “Have you been drinking?”

Lt. Gillway laughed, shaking his head more. “Only a little.

“Jonis, what I mean is…I envy how you can see things so clearly. Right and wrong. Good and evil. For most men, there is a shade of gray that blurs the line.” The lieutenant sighed loudly. “There are times I wish I felt stronger. You know, like your amazing Mr. Farren. He knew what he had to do, and he did it.”

“To his detriment,” Jonis murmured. He shook his head. “There are times I wonder if that Cordril would have killed him had I not been with him.”

“How could he have known?” Lt. Gillway leaned his hand on his chin with a frown. “You had never seen that Cordril before. You said so yourself.”

Jonis dropped to his pillow. “All the same, he did not seem shocked to see me. In fact, he looked ready to meet me.”

“But you took him on,” Lt Gillway said. “You fought him for justice.”

“Revenge,” Jonis murmured. “And he almost killed me instead.”

“But he didn’t.” The lieutenant walked to the door. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, we will help the rest of the people around Ladis. We’ll make your Mr. Farren proud.”

“Good night,” Jonis weakly said, closing his eyes again.

“Good night.” Lt. Gillway closed the door.

Chapter Fifteen: Hunting Worms