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hero from the domains of death long enough to parry this eastern threat. The
request was granted.. .and the man was born again, dressed in flesh once
more.'
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'Uh,' Duffy said hesitantly, 'who is he?'
'He's remembered by a number of names. The one you'd know best is Arthur. King
Arthur.'
'Oh no!' Duffy burst out. 'Wait a moment - are you trying to tell me there's
truth in Lothario
Mothertongue's babblings? All this round-table-and-Camelot stuff he's always
spouting? Listen, if he's King Arthur, the one these fool gods have sent to
save us, the Turks will have taken Vienna by the end of next week.'
'There is some truth in his babbling,' Aurelianus said. 'But no, relax, he's
not Arthur. He must be a powerfully sensitive clairvoyant, though, to have
grasped the situation unaided and come directly to Vienna. It's very sad,
really.' He shrugged. 'Many are called, but few are chosen.'
Suddenly Duffy suspected where all this was leading. Well, he thought, let the
old bastard say it.
'So who is Arthur?' he asked carelessly. 'You?'
'Good heavens, no.' The old man laughed and took another long pull on the
snake, making the head glow nearly white. 'I'm coming to it; let me unravel
the story in order. It was my job to find this reincarnated Arthur, for I knew
- by certain signs and meteorological phenomena - when he was born, but not
where. I began searching the western lands for him about twenty years ago,
when he'd have been in his mid-twenties. I found traces, psychic footprints,
of him in a number of countries, but the long years passed -'Did you find
him?' Duffy asked.
'Well, yes, to omit a lengthy but fascinating tale.'
'And,' said Duffy tiredly, feeling like a participant in some ritual dialogue,
'where is he?'
Aurelianus puffed on the snake and stared curiously at the Irishman. 'Sitting
in the chair across from me.'
'You mean me?'
'Yes. Sorry.'
The Irishman started snickering, and it built up to a laughing fit that lasted
half a minute, at the end of which time his eyes were wet with tears and he'd
begun to twist the straw plug out of a bottle of Spanish red wine. 'This is
certainly my week,' he observed, a little hysterically.
'First those northmen decide I'm Sigmund, and now you tell me I'm Arthur.'
'They're two names for the same person. Didn't you ever even wonder about the
parallel between
Arthur demonstrating his right to the throne by being the only man able to
pull the sword from the stone, and Sigmund proving his by being the only one
who could pull Odin's sword out of the
Branstock Oak?' He nodded. 'Obviously there's another true clairvoyant in
Denmark somewhere, who sent Bugge and his men here so unerringly.'
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'God help us,' Duffy said, adding with some sarcasm, 'Were they correct also,
then, in assuming you're Odin?'
Aurelianus narrowed his eyes mysteriously, then relaxed and grinned. 'Well,
no. That was an excess of religious enthusiasm on their part. Helpful,
though.'
Duffy felt vaguely nauseated, and blamed it on the snake fumes. He'd got the
plug out of the bottle, but now couldn't imagine drinking any of the wine. I
don't care if I was Arthur in that lake-dream last night, he thought, I'm
Brian Duffy now and I'll not have my identity usurped by some old dead king.
He looked at the litter surrounding him in the artificially dimmed room. I'm
not a part of this morbid, dusty, sorcerous world, he told himself
insistently.
'That, of course,' Aurelianus was saying, 'is why the dwarfs and mountain
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creatures protected you -
they knew who you were, even though you didn't yourself. And that's why
Ibrahim tried to prevent your arrival here by sending winged afrits, and,
having his lackey Zapolya send conventional assassins, to intercept you. When
he failed to kill you he tried to bribe you over to the eastern side. The
offer of the sultanate, I believe, was genuine.'
The little black-clad man hopped to his feet, opened a cabinet and groped in
its dark interior.
'Here,' he said softly, lifting out a long, straight sword and handing it to
the Irishman. Duffy stared at it; it was longer and heavier than the swords he
was used to, and the hilt, above a grip long enough for two hands, was a
simple crosspiece. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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