“I don’t know,” Ethan countered. “How do you explain that I can understand him?”
Markus had no reply.
It was Jonas who spoke next. “How old are you, boy?” he asked.
“I’m nineteen,” Ethan lied.
Jonas scrutinized him for a long moment, then sneered. “You can’t lie to me. How old are you really?”
Ethan leveled his gaze. “I’ll tell you how old I am, if you tell me how it is I can understand your language.”
Jonas shrugged. “I don't know that myself. This amulet was given to me by your mother. It was the only means I had of finding you. Other than that....”
He reached inside a small purse on his belt and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. After running his eyes over the page, he grumbled with dissatisfaction. “This doesn’t help very much either. It explains how to get us back home, but nothing else.”
Ethan took the parchment. The letters and words were like nothing he had ever seen before. Even so, he was still able to read them.
Jonas,
When the time comes, smash the jewel. It will open a portal that will allow you to return to Lumnia. But you must enter together. I am sorry I cannot tell you more, but they are coming and I am out of time. Tell my son that I love him with all of my heart…and please watch over him.
Illyrian
Ethan returned the note, a heavy frown on his face. “What the hell is all that supposed to mean?”
“I answered your question,” Jonas shot back. “Now you answer mine. How old are you?”
He paused. “Seventeen. I lied about my age so I could join the Army.”
“You’re a soldier?” Jonas asked, with obvious disapproval.
“Am I a soldier?” Ethan scoffed. “Why do you think I’m dressed like this?”
“Soldiers where I…where we come from...dress very differently.” He noticed the rifle slung across Ethan’s back. “Is that some sort of dwarf weapon?”
“What’s he saying?” Markus chipped in. “Did he explain what he's done to you?”
“He says he doesn’t know,” replied Ethan. “But I think you’re right. He’s nuts. He asked me if this is a dwarf weapon.”
Markus rubbed his temple. “A dwarf weapon? Brilliant! We risked our necks to save a lunatic.”
The sound of tanks rolling down the nearby street silenced them. This was soon followed by the voices of the German infantry. Ethan gestured for Jonas to remain quiet.
“You are at war?” asked Jonas, after they had passed.
Ethan’s mouth twisted. “You really are crazy, aren’t you?”
“I need to get you out of here,” Jonas insisted, ignoring the insult. “This is no place for the son of Lady Illyrian.”
Ignoring his words, Ethan moved over to the shed door and peered out. The sun was almost completely gone. “We can’t stay here,” he said to Markus.
His friend nodded in agreement. “Are we taking the fruitcake with us?”
Ethan thought for a moment. “I guess so.”
Markus sighed and chuckled. “So he's your good deed for the day, is he? Lord Baden Powell would sure be proud of you.”
On the far side of the avenue at the end of the alley, Ethan could see a bombed out office building. The top floor was completely gone, but the piles of broken bricks and wood would provide them with decent cover. Also, from what he could see, all of the surrounding buildings were too damaged to be of any use to the Krauts.
“Follow us,” he said to Jonas. “And keep up.”
Jonas looked like he wanted to protest, but Ethan was already moving out. Markus grabbed the older man’s arm and forced him to Ethan’s back.
The sounds of battle echoed through the streets. Ethan guessed that the enemy's main force was about half a mile to the west. This meant they would need to head south and then try to sneak past their lines, at the same time hoping not to get shot in the dark by their own men.
After pausing to check that both ways along the avenue were clear of enemy soldiers, he took a deep breath and set off as fast as he could across the devastated street.
Although the crossing could not have taken any more than twenty seconds, it seemed to drag on forever. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, for a long time the office building appeared in Ethan's eyes to be getting no closer. With every heart-pounding pace he expected to hear the rattle of a machine gun that would be the prelude to the end of his war.
But he made it safely across, and so did the others, although they were some way behind him. Gasping for air and with sweat stinging his eyes, he watched anxiously as Markus prodded, pushed, and very nearly carried an utterly exhausted Jonas into the relative safety of cover.
After a minute or two spent recovering, they began checking the building to make sure there were no enemy soldiers about. Shattered office furnishings, broken plaster and unstable mounds of rubble made moving about treacherous, especially in the rapidly dimming light. Twice Jonas stumbled and fell, the second time opening a deep gash on his left hand. Ethan scolded him with a hard stare, but paused to wrap the wound with a bandage from his pack.
A large hole in the office's outer wall gave them access across an alley to the building alongside—a process they were able to repeat several times while making their way to the edge of the next block. Though this wasn’t so far in actual distance, the need for caution and countless obstacles created by the devastation, made what should have taken them only minutes, in reality grind on for well over an hour.
Ethan had been hoping that the street would be clear, but it wasn't to be. While peering out of a corner window he caught the sound of German voices in the darkness. He couldn’t tell exactly where they were coming from at first. Then the light from a match appeared directly opposite their position.
He listened again, trying to filter out the clamor of battle that now seemed much closer than before. “I think there’s either panzers or halftracks to the south,” he whispered. “I don’t hear anything north.”
Markus knew better than to question his friend's hearing. It had saved their skins on several occasions since D-day. “That means we have to backtrack and head north,” he said.
“Or try to cross here,” Ethan suggested. “I can only see three of them.”
He tried to picture the layout in his head. By now the 101st would have stopped the advance, and maybe even gained some ground. But German reinforcements would surely arrive soon. He didn’t want to count on their being passed by a second time.
“This is ridiculous,” said Jonas. “I can break the amulet and we can be away in seconds.”
Ethan growled with exasperation. “Shut up! This isn’t the time. You can tell me all about it when we’re back with our unit.”
Jonas glared furiously, but remained quiet.
They backtracked through two buildings and crossed the road heading north. The structures on this side had suffered far less damage. This meant they could now move faster, but it might also force them into the open more frequently. Not that they had much time to dwell on the matter. They crept quietly through the abandoned office building hoping to find a way to the next that would keep them hidden, but the scraping of boots and a guttural voice froze them in their tracks.
“Mach dir keine sorgen. Du wirst deine chance bekommen. Wir überraschten sie, aber sie werden anfangen zu kämpfen, bald genug.”
“Ich bin nicht gekommen, um zu beobachten anderen kämpfen,” replied a much younger sounding man.
The voices were coming from the next room. Ethan unslung his M-1 and Markus did the same. In single file they crept down the hall to the edge of a doorway, Ethan hoping as they moved that the volume of the battle would mask their footfalls.
He pressed his ear to the wall. The voices had stopped. They stood still and silent for more than a minute, but all was now quiet.
Ethan gestured for Jonas to stay put, then locked eyes with Markus. Holding up three fingers he counted down. Three...two...one.
Kicking
open the door, he rushed in, Markus only a split second behind him. Their eyes darted back and forth, searching frantically for the enemy. The dim light of the half-moon shining through a window illuminated the room well enough for them to see that, aside from a few meager furnishings and a pile of books in the far corner, it was empty.
“What the hell?” cried Markus.
Jonas followed them inside a few moments later. “It would seem that your enemy has gone. Now, if you would just listen to me, you can avoid further problems.”
Ethan was on the point of responding when a figure burst through a door to their right that was all but obscured by a deep shadow.
“Drop Ihre Waffe!” the soldier shouted.
Ethan began to raise his rifle, but another soldier came in behind them.
“Tun, was er sagt!”
Ethan and Markus dropped their rifles and threw up their hands. Jonas just stood there, his face contorted in a stricken expression.
The soldier to their rear shoved them one by one against the wall. For a moment Ethan felt certain that his luck had finally run out and mentally prepared himself for the hot burn of bullets. He looked at his would-be killers. One appeared to be no older than himself; fair-haired and with a light complexion. Hitler’s perfect man, he thought. The other was much older, battle worn and grizzled.
“Suchen sie,” said the older man.
His companion nodded and began to search them. When he got to Jonas, he grabbed hold of his sword and began to laugh.
“Dieser Mann denkt, er ist ein Ritter,” he sniggered. The veteran did not appear to be so amused and gave no reply.
The younger soldier continued his search and soon found the small purse on Jonas’ belt. A sharp shake of it produced the jingle of coins. This brought a smile to his face. But when he reached inside his shirt and felt for the amulet, Jonas’ hand shot out to push him away.
Letting out an angry snarl, the soldier struck him on the side of his head with the butt of his rifle. Jonas grunted and slid down the wall, blood pouring over his ear.
“Er ist ein Zivilist. Nur schießen ihm,” said the older soldier. “Die anderen beiden können wir verhören.”
The young man chuckled. A malevolent grin crept over his face. He leveled his weapon at Jonas. “Pech alten Mann.”
Ethan closed his eyes, a wave of pity washing through him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
If the soldier had fired immediately, Jonas would have already been dead. But the young man hesitated. Enjoying the power he held over his victim, his eyes searched for any small hint of fear or pleading. Not finding what he was looking for appeared to be a considerable disappointment to him. Eventually, with a small growl of frustration, his finger tightened on the trigger.
The explosion came from almost nowhere. A ferocious blast threw the two Germans flat onto the floor, at the same time pinning Ethan, Markus and Jonas hard against the wall.
For a moment, silence followed the blast. Then, as the dust began to clear, Ethan felt Markus’ arms lifting him to his feet. His ears were ringing and he could feel a trickle of blood running out of his nose.
“Come on!” his friend shouted.
Ethan looked down at the enemy soldiers. The younger man was moaning softly, blood from shrapnel wounds soaking his back. The older man, having been closer to the far wall where the shell struck, was dead.
Jonas was coughing and gasping for air. “What was that?” he asked.
“That was our ticket out of here,” Ethan told him. “Can you stand?”
Jonas nodded and struggled to his feet. He retrieved his sword and purse from the wounded soldier.
“Looks like our boys are hitting back,” said Markus with clear satisfaction.
A bullet whined through the newly made hole in the building, striking the wall just above Jonas’ head. A glance outside was enough to reveal at least a dozen Nazi soldiers on the other side of the street. Ethan and Markus hit the floor, searching frantically for their rifles. The first shot was soon followed by a hail of bullets.
By the time they managed to locate their weapons, two enemy soldiers were running across the road, one with a grenade in his hand. Ethan fired as quickly as he could, but his shots missed. A moment later the attackers disappeared from his line of sight.
Markus was doing his best to keep the rest from advancing. He hit two men in rapid succession, then emptied his M-1, successfully forcing the remaining Germans to take cover.
“Enough of this!” shouted Jonas, ripping the amulet from its chain and placing it on the floor. “We are getting out of here now.”
Allied shells were striking with increasing frequency. One exploded only a few yards to their right, shaking the building and obscuring their vision.
Ethan knew it would only be a matter of seconds before a grenade flew in. “We need to pull back,” he told the others.
“To where?” asked Markus.
“Anywhere but here.”
At that moment, Jonas smashed the amulet with a hunk of broken brick. There was a blinding flash. When their vision returned, a swirling blue disk of light, six feet in diameter, was where the amulet had just been.
Ethan and Markus stared, dumbfounded.
“We should hurry,” said Jonas. Leaping over debris, his made his way to Ethan and took him by the arm. But he was only able to pull him along a few steps before meeting resistance.
“Let go of me!” shouted Ethan, yanking his arm free.
Jonas seized hold of him again. “There is no other way.”
Markus cautiously approached the light, transfixed. “What is it?”
“A portal that leads to Lumnia,” Jonas explained. “But it won’t last for very long, I suspect. So we need to go now. If we huddle together, we should all be able to fit.”
Ethan felt something strike against the back of his leg. He glanced on the floor directly behind him and caught the unmistakable outline of a German stick grenade. It flashed through his mind that at least it wasn't one of those fitted with a fragmentation sleeve, so the shrapnel would likely be minimal. Not that this would save him. The blast alone would be fatal when standing this close.
Markus saw the grenade too, and was much better positioned to do something about it. Reacting instantly, he flicked it as far away as possible with his boot, at the same time giving both Ethan and Jonas a violent shove, sending them further back and hard down onto the floor. There was no time for him to hit the deck as well. A split second later it went off. Even from the far side of the large room, the force of the explosion sent him flying back – back, and straight into the swirling depths of the waiting portal. Ethan watched in horror as his best friend simply vanished into thin air.
He scrambled to his feet, desperately calling out his friend's name. But it was too late. Markus was gone. Ethan made a dash toward the portal, but Jonas leapt up and tackled him hard to the floor just before he reached it.
“We must go in together,” the older man cried out.
Without a word, Ethan stood up, dragging Jonas with him. “What happened to Markus?” he demanded.
“I told you. This leads to Lumnia.”
Disbelief and skepticism were now set aside. Markus had always been there for him. Now it was time for him to return the favor. “Then that’s where I’m going too,” he stated emphatically.
Wrapping his arms around Jonas, he heaved them both into, what was for him, the complete unknown.
The Reborn King (Book Six) Page 39