[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
The shadow reached out to pat my head, and I saw his eyes grow wide as he made out my form. He
muttered some formula for banishing devils and oozed out the window to join his fellows.
I imagined that if such a thing were actually brought before the council, it would be decided under the law
that the benison of a dream person is not binding. I did not care. This was better advice than any I'd had
since the giant told me to read and learn.
But to be pope, one must have a hierarchy of servants to carry out one's orders. The biggest of rocks does
not move by itself. So, swelled with power, I decided to appear in the upper nave and announce myself to
the people.
It took a great deal of courage to appear in daylight, without cloak, and to walk across the scaffold's
surface, on the second level, through crowds of vendors setting up the market for the day. Some reacted
with typical bigotry and sought to kick or deride me. My beak discouraged them. I clambered to the top of
a prominent stall and stood in a murky lamp's circle, clearing my throat to announce myself. Under a hail
of rotten pomegranates and limp vegetables, I told the throng who I was, and I told them about my vision.
Jeweled with beads of offal, I jumped down in a few minutes and fled to a tunnel entrance too small for
most men. Some boys followed me, and one lost a finger while trying to slice me with a fragment of
colored glass.
Open revelation was worthless. There are levels of bigotry, and I was at the very bottom of any list.
My next strategy was to find some way to disrupt the Cathedral from top to bottom. Even bigots, when
reduced to a mob, could be swayed by the presence of one obviously ordained and capable. I spent two
days skulking through the walls. There had to be a basic flaw in so fragile a structure as the church, and,
while I wasn't contemplating total destruction, I wanted something spectacular, unavoidable.
While I thought, hanging from the bottom of the second scaffold, above the community of pure flesh, the
bishop's deep gravelly voice roared over the noise of the crowd. I opened my eyes and looked down. The
masked troops were holding a bowed figure, and the bishop was intoning over its head, "Know all who
hear me now, this young bastard of flesh and stone "
file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/TheVenging.html (53 of 197) [1/19/2005 12:38:19 AM]
The Venging
Corvus, I told myself. Finally caught. I shut one eye, but the other refused to close out the scene.
" has violated all we hold sacred and shall atone for his crimes on this spot, tomorrow at this time.
Kronos! Mark the wheel's progress." The elected Kronos, a spindly old man with dirty grey hair down to
his buttocks, took a piece of charcoal and marked an X on the huge bulkhead chart, behind which the
wheel groaned and sighed in its circuit.
The crowd was enthusiastic. I saw Psalo pushing through the people.
"What crime?" he called out. "Name the crime!"
"Violation of the lower level!" the head of the masked troops declared.
"That merits a whipping and an escort upstairs," Psalo said. "I detect a more sinister crime here. What is
it?"
The bishop looked Psalo down coldly. "He tried to rape my daughter, Constantia."
Psalo could say nothing to that. The penalty was castration and death. All the pure humans accepted such
laws. There was no other recourse.
I mused, watching Corvus being led to the dungeons. The future that I desired at that moment startled me
with its clarity. I wanted that part of my heritage that had been denied to me to be at peace with myself,
to be surrounded by those who accepted me, by those no better than I. In time that would happen, as the
giant had said. But would I ever see it? What Corvus, in his own lusty way, was trying to do was equalize
the levels, to bring stone into flesh until no one could tell the difference.
Well, my plans beyond that point were very hazy. They were less plans than glowing feelings, imaginings
of happiness and children playing in the forest and fields beyond the island as the world knit itself under
the gaze of God's heir. My children, playing in the forest. A touch of truth came to me at this moment. I
had wished to be Corvus when he tupped Constantia.
So I had two tasks, then, that could be merged if I was clever. I had to distract the bishop and his troops,
and I had to rescue Corvus, fellow revolutionary.
I spent that night in feverish misery in my room. At dawn I went to the giant and asked his advice. He
looked me over coldly and said, "We waste our time if we try to knock sense into their heads. But we
have no better calling than to waste our time, do we?"
"What shall I do?"
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The Venging
"Enlighten them."
I stomped my claw on the floor. "They are bricks! Try enlightening bricks!"
He smiled his sad, narrow smile. "Enlighten them," he said.
I left the giant's chamber in a rage. I did not have access to the great wheel's board of time, so I couldn't
know exactly when the execution would take place. But I guessed from memories of a grumbling [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl wyciskamy.pev.pl
The shadow reached out to pat my head, and I saw his eyes grow wide as he made out my form. He
muttered some formula for banishing devils and oozed out the window to join his fellows.
I imagined that if such a thing were actually brought before the council, it would be decided under the law
that the benison of a dream person is not binding. I did not care. This was better advice than any I'd had
since the giant told me to read and learn.
But to be pope, one must have a hierarchy of servants to carry out one's orders. The biggest of rocks does
not move by itself. So, swelled with power, I decided to appear in the upper nave and announce myself to
the people.
It took a great deal of courage to appear in daylight, without cloak, and to walk across the scaffold's
surface, on the second level, through crowds of vendors setting up the market for the day. Some reacted
with typical bigotry and sought to kick or deride me. My beak discouraged them. I clambered to the top of
a prominent stall and stood in a murky lamp's circle, clearing my throat to announce myself. Under a hail
of rotten pomegranates and limp vegetables, I told the throng who I was, and I told them about my vision.
Jeweled with beads of offal, I jumped down in a few minutes and fled to a tunnel entrance too small for
most men. Some boys followed me, and one lost a finger while trying to slice me with a fragment of
colored glass.
Open revelation was worthless. There are levels of bigotry, and I was at the very bottom of any list.
My next strategy was to find some way to disrupt the Cathedral from top to bottom. Even bigots, when
reduced to a mob, could be swayed by the presence of one obviously ordained and capable. I spent two
days skulking through the walls. There had to be a basic flaw in so fragile a structure as the church, and,
while I wasn't contemplating total destruction, I wanted something spectacular, unavoidable.
While I thought, hanging from the bottom of the second scaffold, above the community of pure flesh, the
bishop's deep gravelly voice roared over the noise of the crowd. I opened my eyes and looked down. The
masked troops were holding a bowed figure, and the bishop was intoning over its head, "Know all who
hear me now, this young bastard of flesh and stone "
file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/TheVenging.html (53 of 197) [1/19/2005 12:38:19 AM]
The Venging
Corvus, I told myself. Finally caught. I shut one eye, but the other refused to close out the scene.
" has violated all we hold sacred and shall atone for his crimes on this spot, tomorrow at this time.
Kronos! Mark the wheel's progress." The elected Kronos, a spindly old man with dirty grey hair down to
his buttocks, took a piece of charcoal and marked an X on the huge bulkhead chart, behind which the
wheel groaned and sighed in its circuit.
The crowd was enthusiastic. I saw Psalo pushing through the people.
"What crime?" he called out. "Name the crime!"
"Violation of the lower level!" the head of the masked troops declared.
"That merits a whipping and an escort upstairs," Psalo said. "I detect a more sinister crime here. What is
it?"
The bishop looked Psalo down coldly. "He tried to rape my daughter, Constantia."
Psalo could say nothing to that. The penalty was castration and death. All the pure humans accepted such
laws. There was no other recourse.
I mused, watching Corvus being led to the dungeons. The future that I desired at that moment startled me
with its clarity. I wanted that part of my heritage that had been denied to me to be at peace with myself,
to be surrounded by those who accepted me, by those no better than I. In time that would happen, as the
giant had said. But would I ever see it? What Corvus, in his own lusty way, was trying to do was equalize
the levels, to bring stone into flesh until no one could tell the difference.
Well, my plans beyond that point were very hazy. They were less plans than glowing feelings, imaginings
of happiness and children playing in the forest and fields beyond the island as the world knit itself under
the gaze of God's heir. My children, playing in the forest. A touch of truth came to me at this moment. I
had wished to be Corvus when he tupped Constantia.
So I had two tasks, then, that could be merged if I was clever. I had to distract the bishop and his troops,
and I had to rescue Corvus, fellow revolutionary.
I spent that night in feverish misery in my room. At dawn I went to the giant and asked his advice. He
looked me over coldly and said, "We waste our time if we try to knock sense into their heads. But we
have no better calling than to waste our time, do we?"
"What shall I do?"
file:///G|/Program%20Files/eMule/Incoming/TheVenging.html (54 of 197) [1/19/2005 12:38:19 AM]
The Venging
"Enlighten them."
I stomped my claw on the floor. "They are bricks! Try enlightening bricks!"
He smiled his sad, narrow smile. "Enlighten them," he said.
I left the giant's chamber in a rage. I did not have access to the great wheel's board of time, so I couldn't
know exactly when the execution would take place. But I guessed from memories of a grumbling [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]