The Drawing of the Dark

'Oh. Well thanks, I'll take a look at it,' the Irishman said, trying to be reasonable, 'but I'm damned particular about my weapons - I wasn't really expecting to get one from that fellow. Hell, I usually have to have my swords made to my own specifications. And Jam left-handed, you know.'

I think you'll like this one,' Aurelianus insisted. 'You've, uh, liked it before.'

'What do you mean? Is it an old one of mine you've magicked from the bottom of some ravine or bay?'

'Never mind. Come back to the inn and take it.' Aurelianus took a step back the way they'd come.

Duffy didn't move. 'You mean right now? No. I'm off to the barracks to visit some friends. I'll look at it later.'

'These are dangerous times. I really wish you'd come get it now,' Aurelianus pressed.

'Well, what's wrong with this?' Duffy asked, slapping the scabbard of the sword he'd borrowed from Eilif. 'I'm beginning to feel moderately at home with it.'

'Why do you -' A child dashed past, yelling and waving a whirling firework on a stick. 'Damn it, why do you have to be SO difficult? Certainly, that sword will do against a pickpocket or a drunken bravo, but you're just as likely to run into other things, and the blade I'm offering you has special properties that make it deadly to them. Listen, guess who didn't show up at the inn for

his morning beer today, for the first time in months?' Duffy rolled his eyes impatiently. 'Methuselah.'

'Almost right. Antoku Ten-no, the bad-tempered Oriental. And I'm now fairly sure it was he who called those two devils last night and set them onto you.'

Duffy sighed. That morning he had, to his own delighted surprise, awakened from four hours of sleep clear-eyed and energetic; he remembered opening his casement to let the cold, diamond-crisp air flap at his night shirt, and remembered filling his lungs and expelling the breath in a shout of laughter that had echoed away up the Street as an escort for the melody of the bells, and drawn the startled glances of several boys on the pavement below. Aurelianus now seemed bent on deflating that exhilaration;

'Why me?' he almost yelled. 'You're the one that wouldn't give him his opium or whatever the hell it was he wanted. Why didn't he send his winged musicians to you? I don't believe you know nearly as much about all this as you pretend to. Why don't you just leave me alone, understand - and all your sorcerous cronies, too!'

The Irishman strode angrily away through the crowd, followed by wondering stares. An elderly, well-dressed man sidled up to the wizard and inquired as to the price of opium. 'Shut up, you fool,' Aurelianus told him, elbowing him aside and returning the way he'd come.

Six hours later the low sun was casting a rust-coloured light in through the three west-facing windows of the Zimmermann dining room. There was the usual pre-dinner clatter and laughter from the kitchen, but aside from the weary Aurelianus there was no one in the dining room. The table candles and wall cressets would not be lit for another hour or so, and shadows were proliferating in the corners and under the chairs.

The old sorcerer looked furtively around, then laid his fingers on the glass cup in which sat his table's candle. He lowered his head and frowned. After a minute he raised his eyes to the wick, which was still a curl of lifeless black; his eyebrows went up in uneasy surprise, and he bent his head again, frowning more deeply. Several minutes went by while wizard and candle were as unmoving as a painting - then a solid yellow flame shot with a rushing roar out the top of the cup, which cracked into several pieces, spilling steaming wax out onto the table top.

The front door had just opened, and Brian Duffy stood in the vestibule doorway, staring skeptically at Aurelianus. 'Was there some purpose in that, or are you Just clowning around?'

The sorcerer fanned at the cloud of smoke. 'A little of both. How was your day?'

Duffy crossed to Aurelianus' table and sat down. 'Not bad. Drank up a lot of French wine and traded reminiscences with the landsknechten. No devils of any note approached me. Did I miss anything around here?'

'Not much. I broke the news to Werner that you're still an employee here, and he shouted for ten minutes and then stormed out. Tells me he's going to celebrate the vanquishing of winter in more edifying company - which I take to mean he's going to spend the night reciting poetry at Johann Kretchmer's place again. Oh, and the Brothers of St Christopher set up their usual puppet show in the yard, as they do every Easter, but your crew of Vikings thought the puppets were homunculi - they smashed up the box and chased the monks away. The kids were all

crying, so I had to go out there and do juggling tricks to restore order.'

Duffy nodded with a satisfied air. 'All emergencies kept well in hand, eh? Good work.'

Aurelianus smiled. 'And I did have a long talk with old Werner. before he made his exit.'

'Oh? That seems a waste of time.'

The old man reached behind him and picked up a candle from another table. 'Not completely. He tells me you are a perfectly disastrous bouncer - says you encourage fights when they start and start 'em when they don't.'

Duffy rocked his head judiciously. 'Well. . .a case could be made for that point of view.'

'No doubt. At any rate, as your employer, I have a proposal to present to you. I'd like to double your salary and promote you out of the bouncer position.'

'To what position?'

Aurelianus shrugged and spread his hands. 'Bodyguard, shall we say?'

'Whose body? Yours?' He watched as the sorcerer produced a tinder box from under his robe, opened it, and took out flint, steel and a handful of tinder.

'No, mine can take care of itself. .I mean the King.' Duffy laughed. 'Oh, certainly. Hell, I can't imagine how Charles has got along until now without - no; I see. You mean this other king of yours.' Aurelianus nodded, watching the Irishman closely. 'The one living outside Vienna,' Duffy went on, 'who outranks Charles, though nobody's ever heard of him.'