The Djinn by J. Kent Holloway Read Free Book Online Page B

were
feared throughout the Outremer and
with good reason. They were the best. They had never known defeat and with a
few exceptions for Gregory, they rarely took any prisoners. He was most proud
of his men.

 
    ****

 
    It had been a
perfect victory and took less than fifteen minutes altogether. Not a single one
of Gerard’s men had been injured, though the same could not be said for the
Guardians. Six strong men, and one impulsive lad, had died in the attack.
    Of course,
there was never really any chance the campaign could have turned out
differently. The camp, which had been set up on the western shore of the
Jordan, had been completely surrounded. Balian’s knights had ridden in from the north, while Durgan’s from the south. Gerard’s men had marched in from the east, all while the camp
slept in the stillness of the night.
    They had struck
swiftly, silent as a bird of prey. A bird of prey…the unnerving memory of the
falcon shot a shiver down his spine. It was the only thing that disquieted him
about the entire affair. An omen if there
ever was one , he thought.
    The bird had
swooped down upon them in the thick of battle—black as jet with eyes that
glowed red from the camp’s firelight. It had done nothing but perch itself upon
a withered old tree near the tent of the tribe’s chieftain and watch the battle unfold.
    At first, Gerard
had opted to ignore the strange sight as the battle raged on. Things had gone
well until the young boy fell. It was such a useless death. The lad would have
been a strong worker in Gregory’s tunnels. But he’d been too proud for his own
good. Taking a sword from a fallen warrior, the whelp charged at Gerard like a
moon-vexed lunatic. Instinctively, the larger man had cut the boy down with a
single swipe of his blade.
    It was at that
moment the bird made itself known again. Shrieking like a fell banshee from
Irish tales, the falcon flew into the air, diving straight for Gerard’s head.
Its lance-like talons raked against his face and it was all the mercenary could
do to keep from losing an eye. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the bird
was gone. It simply had disappeared and no one had been able to see in which
direction it had flown.
    It was a very bad omen indeed , Gerard
thought, pulling a round metal object from his pouch and appraising its
workmanship. But well
worth the risk .
    The gold ring
in his hand glittered in the pale firelight, its
strange and ancient symbols etched onto its band seemed to glow and eerie hue
of green and yellow. But it was the gemstone in the ring’s cradle that
captivated him more than anything. An unusual looking
pentacle that seemed to shimmer and move as if its very lines were made of
water.
    “Gerard,” said
Archibald, huffing as he made his way up a steep incline to reach his captain.
“Both Balian and Durgan have taken their men back to Bethany as you requested. We are left with our
regular men, fifteen in all.”
    “Good.” The
mercenary captain stuffed the ring back into his pouch and looked at his
lieutenant. “That’s more than enough to keep these heathen in line.”
    “Shall we make
preparations for our journey to Jerusalem, sir?”
    Gerard looked
at his men. It had been a short battle, but it had been grueling. It was also
never wise to travel the desert at night unless you knew the terrain well. His
men didn’t. Besides, the added burden of herding a group of twenty-seven
prisoners through a nighttime desert just seemed liked suicide. No, it would be
better to wait.
    “Nay,
Archibald,” said Gerard. “I think we’ll stay here for the night and break camp
at dawn. Give the men some time to rest. But set up a two man watch every
hour.”
    “Aye, sir,”
said his lieutenant, who continued to stare at Gerard without moving.
    “Something on your mind, lad?”
    Archibald
hesitated. He appeared contemplative…almost anxious. Gerard knew what was
coming and he dreaded it. He wasn’t sure how he was going to respond and