The Drawing of the Dark

'Yes,' said Aurelianus. 'He is the chief of our enemies.'

'Whose enemies? The brewery's?' The whole affair was making less and less sense to Duffy.

'The West's,' Aurelianus said with a nod.

'Oh.' Duffy shrugged. 'You mean the Turks. Well, yes. I'd call Suleiman the actual chief, though.'

'I wouldn't,' Aurelianus said. 'Neither would Suleiman, I think. How much do you know about Ibrahim?'

Duffy resolved to hold his temper until he got some coherent answers. 'Well,' he said, 'I know Suleiman appointed him as his Grand Vizir six years ago, when old Pin Pasha was tossed out, even though everybody thought the post ought to go to Ahmed Pasha. Ahmed was pretty angry about it - raised a revolt in Egypt and got beheaded for his trouble, as I recall.' He sipped his bock, wondering absently what its taste reminded him of. 'Oh, and I've heard it said that Ibrahim's a eunuch.'

Aurelianus looked shocked and Gambrinus laughed.

'Talk of that sort is neither here nor there,' Aurelianus said sternly. 'But to move on: what have you heard about his.. .lineage, his nativity?'

The Irishman shook his head. 'Nothing. Though I have the impression he's of low birth.'

Aurelianus laughed this time, humorlessly. 'Lower than you know. He was born in Parga, on the Ionian Sea, and they'll tell you his father was a sailor; that may in a sense be true, but he was not a sailor of earthly seas.'

'What?' Damn this wizardly gibberish, Duffy thought impatiently.

'His real father was an air demon that visited his mother one night in the semblance of her husband.'

The Irishman started to protest, then remembered some of the creatures he'd seen lately. Keep your mouth shut, Duffy, he told himself. Who are you to say there aren't air demons? 'Go on,' he said.

'Such conceptions do occur,' Aurelianus said. 'Uh, Merlin, to choose the...handiest example, was such a hybrid. They have great, albeit tainted, spiritual power, and usually drift into black magic and similar unfortunate areas of endeavor. A few resist or are prevented from this course. Merlin, you'll recall, was baptized. Ibrahim embraced the Islamic faith.' Aurelianus frowned at Duffy. 'The powers of such half-human, half-demon people, though, are seriously depleted by sexual intercourse, and so they learn to shun attractive members of the opposite sex. That, you see - to do our enemy justice - is doubtless the basis of that libellous rumor you referred to a moment ago.

'Oh,' said Duffy uncertainly. 'Sorry.' Good Lord, he thought; I'm not even allowed to insult Turks? 'And you say this halfbreed is telling Suleiman what to do?'

'That's right. Ibrahim is subject only to the will of the Eastern King.'

'Damn it all,' Duffy burst out, 'make sense, will you?. If he's subject to Suleiman -'Suleiman is not the Eastern King. There are always higher levels. Charles is not the Western King.'

'He's not, huh?' Duffy was amused now. Aurelianus had gone too far. 'Who is? You?'

'No. But the man is living just outside Vienna.' Seeing the Irishman's skepticism, he went on, more harshly, 'You think, perhaps, that the only orders and authorities - and wars - are the ones you can see from your front doorstep? I had hoped a man of your experience would have outgrown such country village ways of thinking.'

After a moment Duffy nodded, genuinely abashed. 'You're right,' he admitted. 'Certainly I can't 'claim to know what is or isn't possible.'

'You of all people,' Aurelianus agreed.

'I'll grant you, then,' Duffy said, counting off the points on his fingers, 'that this East versus West struggle may be a higher - or deeper - thing than simply a dispute between Charles V and Suleiman about the ownership of some land. Also, I can't rule out the possibility that the weapons of war include magic. Fine! But what have I, or this brewery, got to do with it? Why was I so fiercely hounded - and peculiarly aided - on my way here?' Aurelianus leaned back, pressing his fingertips together. 'I must phrase this carefully,' he said. 'Uh... just as in swordplay it is more efficient to thrust for the heart than to pick away forever at the man's arm and fingers -

• 'That isn't always true, by any means,' Duffy pointed out.

'It's just an analogy. Be quiet. So a general can save time and trouble by striking directly at the heart of his enemy's kingdom.' He sipped the heavy bock. 'Did it ever occur to you to reflect on this brewery's name?'

'Herzwesten,' Duffy said thoughtfully. 'West-heart.' He frowned. 'Are you trying to say -'Stop talking and find out. Yes; this brewery is one of the main - there aren't words - focuses, hearts, pillars, of the West. The East, of course, has similar centres, but at present the East is on the offensive.'

Duffy was grinning in spite of himself. 'But why a brewery? I'd have thought.. .oh, a cathedral, a library...'

'Oh, no doubt,' said Aurelianus. 'I know. Those things seem older, more dignified, more characteristic of our culture. But they're not. Listen, three thousand years before Christ was born, a people came out of Spain and spread across Europe. They were nomads, strangers wherever they went, but respected - nearly worshipped because they brought with them the secret of beer-making. They spread the art of brewing with a missionary zeal - you can find their decorated beakers in graves from Sicily to the northern tip of Scotland. The fermented gift they brought to Europe is the basis of more beliefs than I dare tell you right now; but I will tell you that in the very oldest versions of the story, it was beer, not fire, that Prometheus stole from the gods and brought to man.'

Duffy blinked, impressed by the old man's speech. 'And that's why the Herzwesten is one of the most important centers, eh?'

'Possibly the most important.' Aurelianus peered at the Irishman, as if gauging how much revelation he could take at one sitting. 'Being Irish,' he said slowly, 'you've doubtless heard of Finn Mac Cool.'

Duffy nodded.