A tall, rangy young man loped across the room to the table. That’s a familiar face, the Irishman thought. Where do I know you from, Jock?
Aurelianus’ fingers clutched the baggy green satin of the man’s sleeve. “Go to the King,” the old sorcerer whispered hoarsely, “all four of you, and guard him—with much more than your lives! An expected danger has shown up at an unexpected hour. Stay with him through the night, and come back when it’s full dawn. I’ll have made some sort of arrangements by then, I trust. Go!”
Jock nodded and sprinted to the servants’ hall without ever having looked at Duffy. The old man was snapping his fingers impatiently. “Where the hell—oh, here she is. Grab your beer and follow me.”
“Somebody’s got to bind up his cuts,” Anna protested,” or his hands will mortify.”
“Hush, girl,” said Aurelianus, flapping his hands at her. “I was patching up wounded men long before you were born. Come along, uh... Brian.”
Duffy obediently took hold of the tankard, carrying it carefully in both mangled hands, and followed the old man through the ancient stone arch of the kitchen doorway. Aurelianus dragged two stools up beside the coping-stones of the open fire and shoved away several soot-and-grease-crusted iron poles; wrapping his hands first in an old towel, he carefully lifted down a pot of boiling water from a chain over the fire. He then fumbled about under his gown and at last produced a metal box and two small pouches. “Give me your hands,” he snapped.
Duffy extended them, and Aurelianus dipped the towel in the scalding water, shook it out gingerly and then wiped the blood off the Irishman’s hands. Duffy winced and was about to voice a complaint when the old man loosed the drawstring of one of the pouches and sprinkled green powder over the lacerations; a sharp coldness spread into Duffy’s hands through the cuts, and the hot, throbbing pain went out like a snuffed candle flame.
“Well!” he said. “Thanks.” He started to draw back.
“Not so fast, we’re not through.” Aurelianus was untangling a spool and needle from a lot of other litter in the metal box. “Look somewhere else, now, and tell me about these devils.”
Staring a little nervously at the uneven stones of the ceiling, Duffy told him about the evening’s bizarre, musically accompanied duel. “But I was certain I was a dead man, right at the start there,” he said when he’d finished. “I just watched helplessly while my body performed actions I never willed. And, and somehow the harder I tried to shake off enchantments and let my real self take control, the stronger this... other control became.”
“Yes, I can imagine. Look, I don’t know how to tell you this gently, but there’s an errand you and I have to run tonight before we can totter off to our beds. It shouldn’t be too—”
“God damn it, no!” Duffy exploded. “You’re insane! Tonight? I’m not even going to listen—”
“Silence!” Aurelianus thundered. “You will listen to me, and that respectfully, you ignorant, brawling fool. I wish I could give all this to you slowly, with lots of explanation, and time to assimilate it and ask questions, but if our situation was good enough to allow for all that, neither of us would have to be here in the first place.” Aurelianus was angry, but in spite of his words Duffy suspected that the anger was not really aimed at him. “Do you want to know what happened to you tonight? Hah? Oh, you do? Then pay attention—those two creatures were... scouts, shall we say, advance riders of the Eastern Empire. God knows what they were doing here already—Suleiman hasn’t even left Constantinople yet, and I didn’t expect this kind of thing to appear until he was well up the Danube.” He shook his head unhappily. “But one makes the best preparations one can, and then deals with difficulties as they arise.” He was working busily over Duffy’s hands, but vague pressures and tugging were all the Irishman felt. “The fact that these things focused on you, rather than the city in general, or the brewery, is particularly worrying. It indicates that they weren’t just blindly sent north by Ibrahim, but rather were summoned and instructed by someone here. I’d give a lot to know who that would be.”
“So would I,” Duffy growled. “But you haven’t said yet what this errand is.”
“We’re going to summon equivalent guards.”
“And another thing—” Duffy paused. “Did you say equivalent?”
“Yes. What other thing?”
“Oh. Uh... yes. What did exactly happen during that fight? What was that when my body started acting on its own, and cut my hand and went on guard with only my dagger? If you say you don’t know, I won’t believe you,” he added.
“Very well. I think I can tell you that.” He gathered up his things. “Do you have a pair of gloves? Well, here. Shake some of this powder into them before we start tonight. It’ll kill the pain and keep the cuts clean.” He sat back and smiled coldly. “This will of necessity sound a trifle mystical to you. I hope you don’t object.”
“I can’t object, if it’s true.”
“That’s right. Doubtless you’ve heard of reincarnation?”
“Yes. To have been an Egyptian princess in some previous life.” Duffy picked up his tankard and took a long draught. “Why is it always Egyptian princesses that they were?”
“Because most people weren’t anything at all, and they make up something that sounds glamorous to lend a bit of color to the only life they’ll ever have. But I’m not talking about those fools. A few people really have lived previous lives, and you are one of them. When—”
“Who was I?”
Aurelianus blinked. “Hm? Oh, it’s... hard to say. Anyway, when those two sky-creatures attacked you this evening, an earlier version of you obviously took over.”
“And nearly got me killed,” Duffy muttered.
“Oh, don’t be an idiot. He had to take over. What would you have done if he hadn’t? Just rushed at the things waving your sword and dagger, right?”
Duffy shrugged and nodded.
“Right. You have no experience in these matters, but your earlier self did. He knew that the monsters were on profoundly alien ground, and didn’t dare touch the earth—hence those odd, stilted shoes. He knew, too, that the only way to resist the hypnotic, will-sapping magic of the pipe-music was to have an anchor, establish a connection in blood and steel with the earth of the west; very like Antaeus, you’ll recall, who could out-fight anyone as long as he was in contact with the ground. When you lifted the sword from the pavement, and broke the contact, your strength left you—and thank Finn Mac Cool you happened to fall holding your dagger point-forward, so that the connection was immediately re-established.”
The Irishman took another long sip, as two cooks came in and fussily hung the pot back up on the chain. “Well,” he said finally, “that does seem to cover the facts.”
The old sorcerer smiled. “Good! I’m glad your mind still has some stretch left in it. Finish that beer and come on. With any luck we’ll be back by midnight.” He stood up.
Duffy didn’t. “I’m injured. Go summon your own guards.”
“I can’t do it alone,” Aurelianus said quietly.
“That shouldn’t be any problem. The city’s—hell, this inn is full of husky swordsmen who’d do anything for five kronen and a mug of beer. Get one of them.” The Irishman sipped his bock and watched the old man cautiously.