The Djinn by J. Kent Holloway Read Free Book Online

to translate the script.”
    “And?”
    “Besides a
vague recounting of Rakeesha’s golems, it tells of
how Azariah , the high priest, entrusted Solomon’s
ring to a band of nomads. My research suggests these were the progenitors of a
group of desert monks known a few centuries ago as the Essenes.”
    The Djinn
nodded at this. “I’m familiar with them. They were a group of ascetics that
practiced Jewish mysticism for many centuries. They thrived in the land up
until around the time of Christ. Then, the Romans drove them into the desert
once more. Fortunately, Samir befriended their descendants several years ago.”
    “The Sheik knew
them?” Tufic asked, a little surprised.
    The Djinn sat
silently for several seconds, staring absently into the golden face of the
medallion he now held in his bandaged hand.
    “You’d be
amazed at who the old man had become friends with over the years, Tufic . And lucky for us, Samir introduced William to their
chieftain about a year before his death. He should still be in good standing
with them, I’d say.”
    “So what do we
do now?”
    “Simple enough,
old friend,” he said, rising from his chair as he clutched the medallion tight
in his hand. “I leave at once to find the Essenes. It won’t be easy. They’re
nomadic and will be difficult to locate. But it’s our next step. Just pray I
get there before Gregory’s forces do.”

 
    ****

 
    "You will
tell the baron what he wants to know!" Gerard DuBois roared as the back of his hand slammed across the battered nomad's jaw. The
chains binding the pathetic man's wrists rattled against the impact. "He
is losing his patience with you, Jew."
    Gregory arose
from the wooden chair he'd been occupying since entering the cell to observe
the interrogation and sighed. This simply wasn't going nearly as well as he'd
first hoped. When he'd first received word that his men had been able to
capture one of the Guardians—the group of nomadic warrior-priests, who at one
time had been known as the Essenes and had been charged with protecting his
prize for nearly a thousand years—he'd been ecstatic. He'd believed it only a
matter of time before the emaciated and dehydrated desert-dweller would crack
under the brutal hand of his mercenary lieutenant and share the secrets he'd
sought for so long now.
    Instead, the
nomad had been ridiculously stubborn. Even now, at Gerard's latest beating, he
merely spat a wad of congealed blood from his mouth and glared at his
interrogator.
    "Enough!"
the baron said, walking casually up to his prisoner. "Enough," he
said a bit more gently, then nodded to Gerard to back away. "Seriously. Must we continue with this charade, Ibrihim ? You
know, as well as I, that you will invariably tell me what I want to know. One way or another. We have no intention of letting you
die…so you will have to endure this…" He waved a hand around the cell.
"…for a very long time."
    The nomad
smiled grimly at this. "And I am prepared to endure to the very end. There
is nothing you can do that will force me to break my vows…or betray the trust
placed in me."
    This is getting tiresome , Gregory
thought as he stared at the man with a smug smile. A different tact is needed for this one. But what ?
    Though he knew
he could continue with the torture, he was becoming even more convinced that
such tactics simply would not work on someone this zealous. He'd need to be
creative, if not even a bit dishonorable. In the end, the method of obtaining
the Solomon's Seal was inconsequential. The only thing
that mattered to the baron was its possession.
    Gregory turned
to Gerard and nodded once more. Understanding, the mercenary and three of his
men unchained Ibrihim bar Jonas, the Guardian of the
Seal, and forced him to the ground. They then re-chained his wrists and ankles
in such a way as to force him to lay face up and unable to move. One of
Gerard's men handed him a wooden bucket filled with hog swill and the mercenary
ceremonially