[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
an alcoholic derelict who still wore expensive-looking jewelry; but she could
understand why no one had yet stolen these.
Ambrosius rambled on: "Where's that wineskin? I had it right here& " Then he
stopped, staring hopelessly at the young man. "I tell you, Artos, a great
stone crushes me. I do nothing but think of her."
"And drink." Artos' voice almost broke, then with a leader's power regained
Page 132
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
steadiness. "You damned old fool. But I cannot spend my whole life trying to
save yours. Not when kings depend on me to lead their armies, not when& you
see, there's a way the common folk have, of looking at me when I ride by. I
can't just leave them all to be part of Falerin's dominion. You know what kind
of a fate that would be."
There was a wagon coming out of the fort's main gate toward them now, noisily
empty as it jounced over ruts. It was drawn slowly by some kind of
sturdy-looking cattle that Marge could not have named.
Ambrosius watched it approaching for a moment, then turned back to Artos.
"I've arranged for a ride. I'm going to Londinium. No, it's all settled. If
I'm not here you won't be worried about me, wasting your time trying to do
something for me. I'll be no worse off in Londinium than anywhere else." It
was as if
Ambrosius, by some trick, or great effort of the will, was managing to hold
himself momentarily sober.
Artos could find nothing to say.
The wagon pulled up at the roadside nearby, stopping with a final jolt into an
old rut. The lone driver, in poor garments, looked very tired, Marge thought,
and worried as well. Probably about having to drive all
file:///G|/rah/Fred%20Saberhagen/Fred%20Sab...hagen%20-%20Dracula%2005%20-%20D
ominion.htm (165 of 186) [2/5/2004 12:21:16 AM]
Saberhagen, Fred - [Dracula 05] Dominion the way to Londinium, wherever that
was, without an escort.
But the old man was not quite ready. He put out a tentative, unexpected hand
and took his leader by the arm. "Before I go, will you show me the Sword?"
"Sword?" It took Artos a moment to understand. Then slowly he pulled the
weapon from the sheath at his side and held it up, hilt down, point to the
morning sky. It was a little fancier then the other handmade weapons Marge had
seen during the last few days. Otherwise she could see nothing remarkable
about it.
Ambrosius raised a gnarled finger, touching the half-polished steel. "Do you
remember how it must be hidden? When the time comes?"
This time Artos paused a little longer. Then in a hardened voice he answered:
"I remember."
"Good;
she doesn't know about the Sword--not yet. If I were to see her again--she
might find out. But I'm not going to see her again. She probably wouldn't let
me if I tried, and--"
The old man's voice collapsed, and with it his sobriety. He clung to the young
man for support, and Marge could see the tears squeeze from his eyes. He
repeated: "A great s-stone, Artos& she's put me under it for good. There's no
way out. No way."
Artos abruptly turned fierce. "Don't say that! In time, with all your powers,
there surely must be something& tell me, what will it take? What materials
will the counterspells require? I'll get them. I'll find other wizards who can
help. It's madness for us to give up like this. I'll mortgage this land if
need be, I'll strip the kings who pay me of their wealth. I'll tell them I
cannot win without your help."
Ambrosius groaned. In a voice of solemn doom, fallen almost to inaudibility,
he said: "It may not be."
"I'll bring the new priests, with their nailed-up god, to pray for you."
"No& it may not be." Ambrosius paused, as if trying to recover himself again.
He held one forefinger upraised, as if what he was about to say next would be
of great importance. But then he said only:
"There's a street I know of in Londinium& it reaches all the way around the
world. I think this is one alley to it, here."
He lurched away from Artos to the side of the waiting wagon, then abruptly
altered his course and made it, in a few staggering steps, to the wineseller's
Page 133
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
counter. Marge saw a bright coin appear between gnarled fingers, in a hand she
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]