"Now I know, I know in part;
Then I shall know fully;
Even as I have been
Fully known.
I have been fully known."
"Love Never Ends" - The Corner Room (based on 1 Corinthians, verses 11 through 13)
21 October 1212
Naples, Italy
Jonatan stepped onto dry land for the first time in nearly five days. As a cabin boy for Ahmed, he had been busier than he had expected. He had run errands for the captain, helped the cook in the ship's kitchen and carried buckets of food from the ship's kitchen to the forecastle where the ordinary seamen ate. He had run from one end of the ship to the other carrying messages and become familiar with the sails, lines and ropes and the use of each in all sorts of weather. He'd had to scramble up the rigging into the yards whenever the sails had to be trimmed. He'd even had to occasionally stand watch like other crewmen or act as helmsman in good weather, holding the wheel to keep the ship steady on her course.
Ahmed had asked Jonatan if he was interested in staying on for another voyage, but Jonatan had politely declined. He very much wanted to keep on travelling back toward home. Ahmed had smiled and thanked him. He had even given him a small bonus to the paltry salary he had earned during the trip. Jonatan had offered it back in exchange for the extra food he had convinced the cook to give him every night. Ahmed laughed again and gave him another coin for his honesty.
Now, Jonatan was alone. He had just the clothes on his back, Western attire this time, another gift from Ahmed, and the money in his pocket. How was he going to get from Naples all the way back to Koln (Cologne)? He had asked Ahmed about this problem but the man's suggestion of hiring a guide wouldn't work. Jonatan did not have enough money for that. Jonatan stood near the pier, watching the activity around the boats and wondering what he should do. He supposed he could find work in town for a while and save money to hire a guide. Perhaps that could work.
He did not get much farther in his pontification. A strange, electric sensation sizzled along his spine and ended in his head. It thrummed similarly to a headache, but not quite. He felt no pain, only an odd sort of presence in his mind. It still made him slightly dizzy, though. He reached for a nearby pole for support and looked around for a point to focus his vision. His eyes came to rest on a man about fifteen meters away. Queerly, the man was looking back at him. The man approached and spoke to him.
"Sono Janof Feke. E chi sei tu?"
Jonatan could remember only a few words of Italian from the brief time he had spent marching through the country months ago. He could make out nothing of what the man said. Since his father had taught him Latin, they had a similar ring to them, but still made no sense to him. He shook his head at the man.
"Sprechen Sie Deutch, mein Herr?" (Do you speak German, sir?) he asked.
The man nodded. "Ich bin Janof Feke. Und wer bist du?" (I am Janof Feke. And who are you?)
Jonatan smiled at the man and replied, "Ich bin Jonatan Fayrebancs. Guten Tag." (I am Jonatan Fayrebancs. Good day.) Jonatan held out his hand to the man.
Feke took the boy's hand and shook it. "Dies muss Ihr erstes Mal sein, dass Sie einen von uns wahrnehmen ... zumindest aufgrund Ihrer Reaktion." (This must be your first time sensing one of us...at least based on your reaction.)
Jonatan's smile faded somewhat as he looked into the man's dark eyes. "Erstes Mal?" (First time?) he asked.
Feke put a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. "Komm mit mir. Wir haben viel zu besprechen." (Come with me. We have much to discuss.)
They went to a nearby pub and had lunch. Feke was kind enough to buy for both of them. Jonatan had not had pork for so long that the taste of the sausage was almost foul to him. He ate it anyway. The ale washed away the taste of it. Feke waited until Jonatan had a second stein in front of him before beginning his explanation of what had happened earlier. In whispered tones, he told Jonatan everything. Jonatan stared at him wide-eyed.
"Unsterblich?" (Immortal?) he asked. "Wie kann das sein?" (How can that be?)
"Niemand weiß, aber es ist," (No one knows, but it is,) replied Feke. "Und du bist einer." (And you are one.)
Jonatan sat back on his bench seat and thought deeply. So he had not been saved by God when he woke up at the bottom of the cliff? He lived because he was immortal? Well, maybe that was what God intended anyway. But, wait…
"Du hast gesagt, ich werde nie erwachsen werden?" (You said I will never grow up?)
"Das ist richtig." (That is right.)
"Und die Leute werden versuchen, mich zu töten?" (And people will try to kill me?)
"Ja." (Yes.)
"Indem ich meinen Kopf abschneide?" (By cutting off my head?)
"Ja." (Yes.)
Jonatan groaned and put his head down on crossed arms. He then sat up and drank deeply from his cup of ale.
"Ich weiß nicht, ob ich damit leben kann," (I don't know if I can live with this,) he stated seriously.
"Sie können," (You can,) grinned Feke. "Das machen wir alle." (We all do.)
Feke then asked Jonatan what he had been intending to do before they had met. Jonatan told him he wanted to go to Koln. Feke whistled. He commented that it would be a long journey and that crossing the Alps would be very difficult. Jonatan informed him that he had done it before. Feke nodded, saying he believed Jonatan was just the type of boy who could complete such a trek. He offered to accompany him.
"Warum würden Sie mit mir gehen wollen?" (Why would you want to accompany me?) the boy asked.
With a shrug, Feke replied, "Meistens, um jemanden zu haben, der mir hilft, auf den Rücken zu schauen. Da ist jemand nach mir." (Mostly, to have someone to help watch my back. There is someone after me.) Jonatan's eyes narrowed as he continued. "Ich brauche genauso viel Hilfe wie dich." (I need help just as much as you do.)
"Warum ist jemand nachdem Sie?" (Why is someone after you?)
Feke leaned forward. "Dieser Mann, Luca Bianchi, ist ein weiterer Unsterblicher. Er will meinen Kopf. Ich glaube nicht, dass ich ihn schlagen kann. Also gehe ich." (This man, Luca Bianchi, is another Immortal. He wants my head. I don't think I can beat him. So I am leaving.) He spread his arms wide. "Ich möchte leben. So einfach ist das." (I want to live. It's as simple as that.)
Jonatan nodded. He could understand the desire to live. He agreed to Feke's offer. He asked when they would set out. Feke said they would leave once they finished their meal. He had a small cart and a horse which would aid in their departure. Jonatan smiled. This was better than he had hoped. He had envisioned himself walking north all the way to Kӧln. Riding in a cart was much better.
Feke then added that his destination, Florence, was nearly one hundred leagues away and it would take them about four weeks to travel that distance. Jonatan's face fell. He had somehow envisioned a horse being able to travel faster than that. He didn't know for sure himself, though. He had never ridden a horse before. At best, he had walked beside or ridden in ox-driven carts and that was all. Surely a horse was faster than an ox.
He asked Feke if there was a faster way to reach Florence. Feke admitted sailing up to Pisa would cut several weeks off their trip - if they sold the horse and cart and worked as crewmen on the ship during the voyage - and be in Pisa in three days, but they would then have to walk from Pisa to Florence. Jonatan asked how far they would need to walk. Twenty leagues, Feke replied. Jonatan smiled at the man. They could easily walk that distance in four days. If they took a boat and then walked, they could be in Florence in a week instead of four.
Feke blinked, considering the matter. He admitted he had last seen Luca Bianchi three weeks before in a neighboring town and had spent the previous twenty days traveling circuitously to hide from the man. He was sure Bianchi was only a day or two behind him at any point. The prospect of getting so far of him now was too good to pass up. Telling Jonatan he had just earned another cup of ale, he agreed to the plan.
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29 October 1212
Florence, Italy
Feke did not actually live in the city proper of Florence. He had a small hut on the outskirts of it, situated in the forest half a league south of the city walls. After eating a meal just inside the gates, they walked to the hut.
Feke seemed relieved to have finally reached his home. He dropped his few remaining belongings, a sword he had refused to sell along with the horse and cart, a pack, two knives, and a few other items, by the door. He then kicked off his boots before settling into a chair next to a tiny dining table. Jonatan, having far fewer possessions to delay him, wandered through the rest of the tiny house. There were only three rooms, so it did not take him long.
When he came back into the largest room, which served as both a living and cooking area, he asked Feke why there were two bedrooms if he lived alone. Feke laughed and waved a hand, explaining that two years ago he had a woman living with him. At one point they had argued and she had demanded separate sleeping quarters so he had converted the small storage room into a bedroom for her. When they had finally parted ways, he had simply never changed it back.
Jonatan shrugged and said it all worked out for the best since it meant he could have a bedroom for himself, which he had never had before, rather than sleeping alongside Feke or on the floor. Feke nodded in agreement. He said that also, tomorrow after they had broken their fast, he would begin teaching Jonatan the skills he would need to survive as an Immortal, specifically how to fight with a sword.
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30 October 1212
Florence, Italy
Breakfast the next morning consisted of fruits and nuts Feke and Jonatan gathered from the surrounding area. It was simple but sufficient for them. Jonatan was nervous about the idea of swordplay. He had never handled anything larger than a table knife before. How was he to learn to use a sword well enough to survive? He admitted his fear to Feke. The man laughed and said all new Immortals started out with such trepidations.
Feke began by giving Jonatan a seax, a large, general-purpose knife, saying it would work for training purposes until they got something better for him. Feke's own sword was strapped around his waist. Drawing the weapon from its sheath, he began with a few basic sword strokes and soothing words, demonstrating the techniques for his student. Jonatan nodded in understanding.
Feke acted out a few more strokes, talking through each one. After the fifth one, he laughed after telling a somewhat dirty joke, his gaze on Jonatan. The boy laughed, as well. Feke's eyes then darkened and his brow furrowed. Twisting his wrist, he brought his sword around in a backstroke toward Jonatan's neck. The young Immortal, seeing the change in the man's expression, stepped back in fear, the cold tip of the blade barely missing him. Jonatan did the only thing he could think to do. He ran.
Jonatan did not pick any particular direction in his flight. He just turned and ran as fast as he could. He soon ascertained he had made a fatal error. To his right was the creek from which they had drawn water earlier in the morning, the forest beyond it. Jonatan was not a strong enough swimmer to make it across to the other side. Ahead of him, extending all the way to the water's edge, was a large outcropping of rocks. To his left was open ground, but flat. Feke, with his longer legs, could easily outrun him if he went that way.
Deciding his only chance was to go for the rocks, Jonatan did his best to run faster. He never ran much in the past, either. He was a missionary's son, after all. He was educated and sheltered, not at all used to excessive exertion. The previous months of walking the Alps en route to Italy with Nikolas, oh so long ago - had nearly killed him. How he had managed to do it back then, he never knew. But he had to do it now or he would surely die, again. He ran.
Reaching the wall of stones, Jonatan began to climb, the seax still clutched in his hand as he went. The pounding of Feke's feet behind him rang in his ears. The boy hissed as the stones cut into his palms and fingertips. He pulled regardless, willing himself up. Reaching a higher, somewhat flatter level, he looked up for his next handhold. He then glanced back. Feke was four meters behind him and already swinging his sword as he ran. Jonatan sprang up, grabbing desperately at the rocks above him. At the same moment, Feke's sword sliced through the boy's right Achilles tendon. Caught in mid-jump by the injury, Jonatan's momentum was thrown off and, instead of going up, he crashed forward, face first, into the rocks in front of him.
Janof Feke laughed at the boy, crumpled on the stones. He was only at shoulder height to the man and still easily within sword distance. This would be a simple kill. The blood in his temples was thundering with expectation of it. Feke raised his blade. Feke realized the thundering was not in his head. It was behind him. He glanced over his shoulder…and cursed just as an electric sensation shook his spine.
Jonatan, curled up in a ball with tears in his eyes, yelped at the shock of the presence of another Immortal approaching. He pushed himself up and turned to find the person. His attention was immediately drawn back to Feke standing right in front of him. The man was turned slightly away from him. In a panic, he swung out with the seax in his hand. The blade cut through a third of Feke's neck, severing skin and muscle easily.
Feke staggered forward, his face turning to look up at Jonatan in shock as blood began to pour down his shirt. Forgetting his sword, he let it drop and brought both hands to the wound in his neck. An awful choking sound escaped from his mouth. Blood began to seep from between his lips.
Emboldened by his first stroke, Jonatan rose up on his knees. Looking directly into Janof Feke's eyes, the boy raised the seax in his hand, supporting it with his other now, and whipped it across horizontally. A primal roar of rage erupted from Jonatan's throat as he delivered the blow. The blade sliced through skin, connecting with Feke's spinal column, snapping it and continuing to cut through muscle and tendons until it exited the other side of the man's neck. Feke's eyes rolled into the back of his skull and he dropped to the ground. His body quivered in massive death throes, his head still connected to his neck by a small strip of skin and muscle in the back. After several seconds, he went still.
Jonatan dropped the bloody blade and slid slowly down the boulder, his fear bleeding away to be replaced by shock. What had he done? He had killed a man. The fifth commandment said, "Et: Non occides." (You shall not kill.) But he had just done it. Was he going to be damned to Hell for it? And why was Feke's body starting to glow?
Jonatan's attention was diverted by the sight of a well-dressed man on a horse slowly approaching. He wondered if he was the other Immortal he had felt. There was no one else around so it must be. Who was he? The black-haired man with a triangular beard peered down at the boy from his horse, but said nothing. Jonatan had no more time to think about who the man was. His world exploded.
Lightning lashed around the terrified boy and plunged into his frail body, throwing him to the ground. He convulsed in agony as the bolts punched mercilessly into him. Surely, this was God's punishment for killing Feke. Jonatan screamed in terror, rolling in the grass to escape the torture. It was no use. The lightning followed him. It continued to pound him again and again until he thought he would burst. He could not even take in another breath to scream. Yes, he thought, he was going to die.
Then it ended. Just as suddenly as the storm had begun, it was over. Gasping for breath, Jonatan pushed himself around onto his back, staring up at the sky. He put one hand on his chest. To his amazement, his heart was still beating. A shadow fell over his eyes. It must be the specter of his own death approaching. He did not see that it was the shadow of the man on the horse. He was ready to die. He was too tired to fight anymore. Closing his eyes, he passed out.
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01 November 1212
Florence, Italy
The first thing Jonatan realized before he opened his eyes was his ribs were aching. It took him a moment to recognize that meant he was still alive. If that was so, why was he hurting? And why was he bobbing up and down so much? He opened his eyes. And shut them again, flailing involuntarily. He was hanging head down over a horse. Someone, he could only assume it was the well-dressed man, had him thrown over his saddle like a blanket.
He heard a chuckle above him and a hand patted his back. "Wayke, Fauntekyn. Eu mester nought founden."
Jonatan winced at the sound of the man's poor English. In a tone somewhat sharper than he intended, he replied, "Ȝoure Engel bie eisful. Almain." (Your English is awful. German.)
The rider apparently took no offence at the boy's statement. With another laugh, he repeated the back pat and said, "Vorsicht, Kleiner. Du willst nicht fallen." (Careful, little one. You don't want to fall.)
Jonatan pushed himself up slightly to relieve the pressure on his ribcage. He turned his head toward the man. In a softer voice, he commented, "Auf Englisch sagten Sie, ich wollte nicht gefunden werden." (In English, you said I didn't want to be found.)
The rider frowned in confusion. "Habe ich? Nun, es sind zwei Jahrhunderte vergangen, seit ich diese Sprache gesprochen habe." (Did I? Well, it has been two centuries since I spoke that language.) He shrugged and said nothing more.
Curious, Jonatan asked him, "Woher wussten Sie, dass ich Englisch bin?" (How did you know I was English?)
This brought a grin to the man's face. "Du hast im Schlaf geredet," (You were talking in your sleep,) he said.
This time, Jonatan bore the confused expression. "Ich war? Oh." (I was? Oh.) He tried his own shrug but found it difficult to do in his current position. Instead, he added, "Darf ich mich bitte aufsetzen? Es ist ziemlich schmerzhaft, so über deinem Sattel zu liegen." (May I sit up, please? It's quite painful lying across your saddle like this.)
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18 February 1213
State of Hessia
Kassel District
The rider was, as Jonatan had begun to suspect, the man Janof Feke had been trying to evade, Luca Bianchi. He inquired now and then about Jonatan's past and how he had come to be paired with such a man as Feke. Jonatan had answered with a question of his own. Aside from the attempt at his head just before Bianchi had arrived, he had had no particular issue with the man. Bianchi said that was because the boy did not know Feke well enough. Janof Feke was a thief and murderer. The house in which they had been staying, in fact, had belonged to a woodcutter, his wife, and two children. Feke had killed them all in order to take the home as his own.
Hearing this, Jonatan sat quietly behind Bianchi for a while as they rode. He then informed Bianchi of everything that had happened since he had met Feke in Naples. Bianchi began to laugh when Jonatan mentioned Feke's belief that Bianchi was still roaming about the area of Naples in search for him.
"Ach nein," (Oh, no,) Bianchi had explained. "Ich dachte, er könnte hierher zurückkehren. Er mag Florenz und hat viel Zeit in dieser Gegend verbracht. Ich habe hier drei Wochen vor Ihrer Schiffslandung in Neapel angefangen zu reiten." (I thought he might return up here. He likes Florence and has spent a lot of time in this area. I started riding up here three weeks before your ship landing in Naples.)
Jonatan mentioned that Bianchi's statement fit with Feke's last sighting of him and continued his story. When he reached the part about Feke's betrayal, he expressed his confusion. What reason could Feke have had for wanting to kill him?
Bianachi thought briefly before responding. "Der Teil darüber, dass er jemanden wollte, der ihm hilft, seinen Rücken zu sehen, war wahrscheinlich wahr. Als er einen Ort erreicht hatte, den er für sicher hielt, musste er entschieden haben, dass er dich nicht mehr brauchte." (The part about him wanting someone to help him watch his back was likely true. Once he had reached a location that he thought was safe, he must have decided he no longer needed you.)
Upon reaching the next town, Bianchi had rented a room for the next several days and purchased a horse and saddle for the boy. He spent the next four days teaching Jonatan how to ride. Sensing the lad's suspicion of another possible betrayal, especially since he had noticed him sleeping with Feke's seax in his hand, Bianchi offered to let Jonatan keep his weapons on his own little horse.
"Es sei denn, es kommt eine Zeit, in der ich sie brauche, natürlich. Wie Banditen," (Unless there comes a time that I need them, of course. Like bandits,) he had added, grinning. Jonatan had agreed to this arrangement.
Unasked, Bianchi then purchased provisions and accompanied Jonatan all the way back to Köln. Here, the new Immortal experienced his next heartbreak. On Bianci's suggestion, Jonatan rode into town with his face concealed. Bianchi did all the talking as they rode. Jonatan learned that his parents, believing their son to have left with Nikolas and died along with so many of the other children, had left the Germanic states and returned to England. New missionaries had replaced them a month ago. No one could say just where the Fayrebancs family had gone. Even Jonatan, who had lived in Germany since he was four years old, could not remember exactly where they had lived before. All he could remember was they had once lived in London.
Before the full impact of the revelation could hit the boy, Bianchi turned their horses around and they rode off to another town. There, they took a room. Once inside it, Jonatan's tears began to flow. What could he do now, he wondered. England was weeks or months away. Even then, he had no knowledge of London or where his parents may have gone. To his horror, Bianchi suggested he abandon hope of finding them.
"Warum sollte ich das tun?" (Why should I do that?)
Bianchi's face was composed. He spoke with no tone of spite or intent to hurt. He was only calm as he said, "Du bist unsterblich. Wie wirst du das deinen Eltern erklären? Wie werden sie verstehen, dass ihr Junge jetzt Köpfe nehmen muss, um zu überleben? Werden sie dich überhaupt so akzeptieren, wie du jetzt bist? Oder werden sie dich selbst im Stich lassen?" (You're immortal. How will you explain this to your parents? How will they understand that their boy must now take heads in order to survive? Will they even accept you as you are now? Or will they abandon you themselves?)
Bianchi waited while Jonatan tried to formulate a response. Jonatan could not. His experience with Feke, the beheading, the horrible experience afterward - which Bianchi had called a Quickening, had taught him that there definitely were things which could not be explained to a good Christian family. They would not understand. In fact, he knew exactly what would happen if his parents, or anyone in the city, had witnessed the aftermath of killing Feke.
"Sie würden mich Dämon nennen und mich entweder austreiben oder versuchen, mich zu töten." (They'd call me a demon and either cast me out or try to kill me.)
Bianchi nodded. He explained further that similar events had occurred when he had first become immortal thirty-four centuries earlier.
"Sie zu verlassen und sie weiterleben zu lassen, ist das Beste, was Sie für sie tun können, Jonatan. Das Beste, was dich für sich tun können, ist, dir neues Leben zu beginnen. Ich kann dir damit helfen." (Leaving them and letting them move on with their lives is the best you can do for them, Jonatan. The best you can do for yourself is to begin your new life. I can help you with that.)
"Indem du mir beigebracht hast zu kämpfen?" (By teaching me to fight?)
Bianchi nodded again. When Jonatan told him that is exactly what Feke had said prior to trying to kill him, Bianchi frowned. He suggested, as a momentary compromise, that they at least ride east to his estate in Hessia and they could then work out whether or not Jonatan would accept his training. Again, Jonatan agreed. He would still sleep with the seax in his hand and hold onto Bianchi's weapons, though, he said. Bianchi laughed.
"Natürlich kannst du das tun." (Of course, you can do that.)
They reached Bianchi's estate five days later. Bianchi had described it as small, a gift from a Hessian duke, but it did not appear anything of the sort to Jonatan. It was enormous. He said he could get lost for days just in the forests around the sizable house. Again, Bianchi chuckled. He then mentioned to the boy that the place also had a complete staff of functionaries to take care of their needs. Jonatan was stunned.
After a night in a private room, during most of which Jonatan spent awake and in deep thought, he informed the older Immortal that, apologetically, he must refuse the offer of training, at least for now. He had been betrayed too many times over the last year. He did not want to risk it again. He asked if he could impose on Bianchi's hospitality for a while longer and stay for a few more days. Bianchi replied that he could stay or leave whenever he liked.
"Sie sind hier kein Gefangener. Solange du bleibst, werden ich und meine Diener dich gastfreundlich behandeln. Wenn Sie gehen möchten, werde ich Ihnen alles zur Verfügung stellen, was Sie für Ihre Reise benötigen. Während Sie hier sind, biete ich Ihnen jedoch ein Zimmer an, in dem Sie nur von innen verschlossen bleiben können, da ich Ihre Bedenken über Verrat verstehe. Niemand außerhalb kann eintreten, wenn Sie es nicht wünschen. Die Tür hat auch einen Weg, durch den Essen und Trinken für Sie bereitgestellt werden können und durch den Sie sehen können, wer eintreten möchte. Das Zimmer hat sogar ein eigenes Bad." (You are not a prisoner here. As long as you remain, I and my servants will treat you hospitably. If you choose to leave then I will provide you with whatever you need for your journey. While you are here, though, since I understand your concerns about betrayal, I will offer you a room in which to stay that can only be locked from the inside. No one outside of it can enter if you do not wish it. The door also has a way by which food and drink can be provided to you and by which you can see who is wishing to enter. The room even has a private privy.)
Bianchi led Jonatan to the room for his inspection and approval. Expecting something along the lines of a private cell, instead Jonatan found it to be more along the lines of a suite. He gawked at the size and luxury of the three rooms. With the assistance of a servant, Bianchi then demonstrated the locking mechanism and how it prevented all access to the room with Jonatan unlocking the door himself. He then pointed out an access panel at the bottom of the door through which food, drink, and other necessities could be pushed on a regular basis. When Jonatan asked why Bianchi had a suite - and a door - such as this, the man merely laughed again and replied that Jonatan was not the first new Immortal Bianchi had met who was concerned about his safety. Jonatan said he would stay in the suite. Bianchi then added a few conditions to Jonatan's stay.
"Ich bitte Sie, meine Bibliothek zu nutzen und so viel wie möglich zu lesen. Es gibt eine Menge, die Sie nur aus den Büchern hier lernen können, auch wenn ich Ihnen nie etwas über das Schwert beibringe. In Bezug auf Ihre Ausbildung habe ich an jemanden gedacht, der vielleicht einen besseren Job machen könnte als ich.
"Wenn Sie möchten, schreibe ich ihm und sende den Brief von meinen besten Reitern. Ich kann nicht unbedingt sagen, wann oder ob er kommt, aber es ist eine weitere Gelegenheit für Sie." (I do ask that you make use of my library and read as much as possible, as well. There is a great deal you can learn just from the books here even if I never teach you a thing about the sword. Regarding your training, if you accept it, I have been thinking about someone who perhaps could do a better job than I anyway.
If you like, I will write to him and send the letter by my best riders. I can't necessarily say when, or if, he will come, but it is another opportunity for you.)
Again stunned by the level of Bianchi's patience and generosity, Jonatan nodded his head and said, "Ich werde alles tun, was du fragst, Luca. Vielen Dank." (I will do everything you ask, Luca. Thank you.)
Over three months had passed since that day and while Jonatan was growing weary of being in the suite, he was still convinced he had made the right decision. He had not gone without human contact the entire time. Bianchi made regular visits and he saw the staff every day when they brought food. Jonatan also made weekly trips to the library at the other end of the house to choose books to entertain himself. Still, he was getting anxious to do something else besides simply read, drink wine, and eat Bianchi's fine food.
A knock came at the door. Jonatan looked up from his book, his eyes going to the candle clock on the wall. It was nearly nine in the evening. Why would someone be knocking now? He stood and approached the door. The knock was repeated. Standing at the door, Jonatan did not pull aside the bar to view through it into the hallway. The change in routine was just too odd.
"Ja?" (Yes?) he inquired.
If the knock at the door at this time of night had surprised him, what came next bowled him over completely. The response to his question came in English.
"Halsen, Jonatan Fayrebancs. Min Nome ist David Asher." (Hello, Jonatan Fayrebance. My name is David Asher.)
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Asher never asked to enter the room. He only wanted to talk. He set up a chair by Jonatan's door and told the boy stories for as long as Jonatan wanted to listen, sometimes for several hours at a time. Midway through the second day, he and Jonatan were having spirited conversations through the thick wooden door. By the third, they were singing songs.
On the morning of the fourth day, a wary Jonatan emerged from his room. Asher took the still fearful boy with him to a cabin in the woods away from Bianchi's estate. They took no weapons. The cabin was located on holy ground - which Bianchi had explained was a safe place for all Immortals. Asher told him to not worry about training while there were there. While they were at this cabin, they would do only "kid stuff." Six weeks of hiking, swimming, and climbing had the desired effect for both of them; Jonatan learned to trust and develop an attachment to an adult again and, unbeknownst to him, Asher had already laid the foundations of the boy's physical and mental conditioning. The stage was now set for Jonatan's real training to begin.
After three years, Bianchi announced he would be moving to Spain and requested that Asher complete Jonatan's training. Asher faithfully agreed. As he said goodbye to his friends, Bianchi insisted that Jonatan take a gift from him as a memento, the short hunting sword that was made to accompany the longsword specially made for Bianchi a century before.
Seven years after the departure of Bianchi, the time finally came for Jonatan and Asher to reluctantly part ways, at least for a while. As a sign of their friendship, Asher gave Jonatan a signet ring worn thirty-two hundred years ago by Asher's younger brother. Asher had crafted the ring and its duplicate himself. It had been made, he said, so his brother, Thekris, and he could wear it for the rest of their lives. Thekris had worn it on a slender silver link necklace around his neck, waiting until he was grown before putting it on his finger. That day of adulthood had never come. Accepting the gift and the necklace, Jonatan swore he would never remove it.
