The Drawing of the Dark

Ah. No, I don't have a boat. I have, though, a proposal'

Duffy regarded Aurelianus skeptically. 'Oh? Of what?'

'Of employment.' He smiled. 'You are not, I imagine, as wealthy as you have been at times in the past.'

'Well, no,' Duffy admitted, 'but these things come in waves. I've been rich and poor, and will doubtless be both again. But what did you have in mind?'

Aurelianus too a long puff on the popping, sizzling snake, and held the smoke in his lings for a good ten seconds before letting it out. 'Well - whoosh - by your accent I'd judge you've a good deal of time in Austria.'

The Irishman looked annoyed, then shrugged and had another sip of wine. 'That's true. I was living in Vienna until three years ago.'

'Why did you leave?'

'Why do you ask?'

'I beg your pardon; I don't mean to pry. I don't know why I have such difficulty in coming to the point.' He ran the thin fingers of one hand through his hair, and Duffy noticed he was trembling. 'Let me explain: I have become the owner of the Zimmermann Inn.'

Duffy raised his eyebrows politely. 'Where's that?'

Aurelianus looked surprised. 'In Vienna,' He said. 'Don't you - oh. Of course. You've been away for three years. Before I took over it was called the St Joseph Monastery.'

'Oh yes. Where the Herzwesten beer comes from. You haven't shut down the brewery I trust?'

Aurelianus laughed softly. 'Oh no.'

'Well, thank God for that.' Duffy Drained his glass.

'How in hell did you get the Church to sell the place?'

'Actually, I inherited it. A prior claim on the land. Very complicated. But let me continue - I'm now running the place as an inn, and not doing a bad business. Vienna is a good location, and the Herzwesten brewery has as good a reputation as the Weihenstepan in Bavaria. My problem, though, you see, is that I haven't got -'

There was a hesitant rap-rap-rap at the door, and Aurelianus jumped. 'Who is it?' he called in an agitated voice.

The answer came in a Greek dialect. 'It's Bella. Let me in, little lover.'

Aurelianus clenched his fists. 'Come back later, Bella. I've a guest.'

I don't mind guests. I like guests.' The latch rattled.

The old man pressed a hand to his reddening forehead. 'Go away, Bella,' he whispered, so quietly that Duffy barely heard it.

'Yoo hoo, guest!' came the raucous, liquor-blunted voice from beyond the door. 'Tell the old juggler to let me in.

Good Lord, Duffy thought; domestic embarrassments. Pretend not to notice. He crossed to the bookcase and began squinting at the Latin titles.

'I've got news,' Bella whined ingratiatingly. 'Worth a ducat or two, I think you'll agree.'

'News about what?' rasped Aurelianus.

'El Kanuni, as my dark-skinned friends say.'

'You're a worthless trollop, Bella,' the old man sighed unhappily, 'but come in.' He unlocked the door.

Preceded by an overpowering reek of stale perfume and grappa, a middle-aged woman in a somewhat sprung-at-the-seams skirt flounced into the room. 'Give me some wine, for the Virgin's sake!' she exclaimed, 'lest I catch my death of the vapors.'

'For whose sake?' Aurelianus inquired savagely. 'Forget the wine. Vapors would be a blessing, considering what you've got already.'

'Envy will rot your pale liver, little monk.' The woman grinned. Duffy, having at least rudimentary manners, made a show of being absorbed by the books to the exclusion of all else.