For a man who lost everything not long ago, Jovan breathed a sigh of a long yearned-for relief as he watched a group of men battling it out before him. He felt the rush of adrenaline flow through his veins because he felt needed again. He was glad to be able to shout and train men who looked up to him again. And he was in command again. So to speak...
The fact that those who were being trained by him were completely baffled at his training technique did not bother him one bit. The fact that they didn't understand how vital it was for a warrior to be able to win in one-on-one combat did. Jovan knew that he was ahead of his time. This time, he chucked to himself. He had studied the history of the early Ottoman Empire in his youth. He heard stories told to him by his beloved grandmother Bojana. But witnessing it first-hand was a completely different matter. Truth be told, he was grateful to his Fate that it had thrust him to this very time, and no other. This was the time in history when honor, valor, and one's given word was of utmost value. As were customs, righteousness, and traditions passed on through generations.
But, this was also a time when greed, selfishness, and thirst for power flooded people's minds. As in any other time, if Jovan had to be honest. And yet, though the Dark Ages were dubbed and marked by its name, these times were truly his favorite. In these times, a knight or a Bey fought for the righteous, for his subjects, for the future of his territory. A ruler took it as a matter of utmost importance to guide his people through the best possible paths. And that was what he thought of Jagoda's father, and of Jagoda as well.
"You would think You were battling wild rabbits, the way You weaklings throw hands at each other!" Anil shouted at the men, utterly unimpressed.
"We cannot simply engage in battles without Our weapons!" Shouted one of the men standing near Anil.
"And why not?" Jovan asked him, unimpressed as well, trying to test the man's logic.
"Weapons are Our strength!" The man shouted back at Jovan, while the rest of the men cheered in unisom.
"Weapons are Our backbone!" Shouted another man, whose words were also met with cheers and nods.
"Weapons are Our power!" Shouted the third man, and just like before his words were met with cheers and fists thrown up in the air.
Jovan waited for the shouting to die down as he leaned back on a rock half his size, then countered the man's statement. "So, You mean to tell me You are powerless without some sticks and scraps of metal?"
"Never!" All men shouted back at him.
"Then why do You act like babies removed from a mother's bosom? Is that fitting of the great warriors of the land You call home?" Jovan said in a thundering tone of voice that caused the men's heads to bow down with shame.
"Jovan, Bey, do not belittle Us in such a way in front of Our brothers. It is not a matter of becoming powerless. It is a matter of understanding why we need to train this way," said the man closest to him.
"What is Your name?" Jovan asked, impressed by the man's direct way of defending his kinship.
"Blagun," the man replied, and stood his ground though he knew what his name meant.
"Blagun. Catchy. You must have been a sweet little baby for Your father to call You that," Jovan smirked at Blagun who stood taller and broader in the shoulders than Jovan did himself. This of course caused other men to laugh as well, only to stop the moment Blagun turned around and narrowed his eyes at his companions.
"My father was doused with honey when I was born. I have six older sisters, and I was the first son that Fate bestowed upon him. The name stuck to me like the honey stuck to my father's palete the day I was born. But let my name not fool You! I am the strongest one of all the men in the camp!" Blagun exclaimed loud enough for others to hear it.
"Fight me." Jovan replied stoically as he continued to lean back on the rock.
"Ha! That is no challenge for me!" Blagun shouted and sent an ostentatious wink Jovan's way as he took steps toward the stack of weapons not far from them.
"No weapons. Just fist. Let's see what Your sweet baby hands are made of." Jovan stood up, and grinned at Anil before he took a step toward Blagun.
"Suit Yourself. Weapons or no weapons, You are no match for Blagun's strength!" Blagun bellowed out a laugh and launched at Jovan.
The fight that took place lasted no more than a minute. Less than that, if one would take into consideration the time it took Blagun to raise back up off the ground. The men gathered around them watched as Jovan ducked under Blagun's wide open arms, threw punches so quick that men who blinked missed them, swooped down and whirled around on one foot as his other leg cut Blagun down like a twig. The man did get up, only to end up on his rear for the second time. And this time even harder. What followed next was a stunned silence from all men who witnessed the fight. Except for Anil, who began to cheer and exclaimed to high heavens that he wished for more men to have seen Jovan the Valiant conquer Blagun the Brave.
"Your tongue wields like a weapon, but Your limbs cry out for more practice?" Jovan grinned at Blagun as he extended his hand to help Blagun raise up from the ground.
"Your sissy limbs wield power far greater than Your tongue cares to share," Blagun replied as he accepted Jovan's hand.
"Fair observation." Jovan's grin grew wider at Blagun as he looked at the men around him. He realized then and there he was standing next to a man he would soon grow fond of. "No one dares to question the valor in Your hearts. No one dares to question the might of Your swords. But if the battle that awaits Us is meant to be won, You must force Your fists to cut air faster than Your thoughts. Your hands, whether armed or bare, must thrust the same kind of power. If we do this, and if we fight with all Our might, then Pasha's warriors will conquer all adversaries, wherever and whoever they may be!"
The moment Jovan said those words, he felt something in his soul. Something only his grandmother would have understood. He felt the passion of purpose reignite the fire in the depths of his heart...
YOU ARE READING
THE TIDES OF TIME
Romance⚔️ "Being born and raised to respect life and its rules, Jovan Galanis made something of himself. He was ambitious, outgoing, disciplined, and righteous to his very core. His parents died when he was a young boy, and having been raised by his Macedo...
