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Tiber. One account, of which I have a copy, maintained that he was taken
injured and half-drowned to a friendly but unnamed city. According to this
account, he lived in that city one year. Others say three. It's difficult to
be sure what really happened. The best sources agree that he hoped to lead
another army against Maxentius. But apparently he never fully recovered from
his injuries ." Edward shrugged. "I've looked many years for the truth."
"And how would you know the truth?"
"Easily. Find his tomb." He kicked away dead leaves and dirt and pointed
toward scratches on the stone floor. "Here is where his sarcophagus would have
been placed. His armor would have been stored on the shelf."
"For use in a future world?" asked Falon.
"Perhaps in a better world."
"Then this is his tomb?"
"Oh, yes, I am quite satisfied on that score. Yes: unquestionably he was
interred here."
Falon wondered how he could possibly know such things.
"While he lived, he talked of building a second Rome, in the east." His voice
filled with regret. "Something to survive."
The smoke thrown up by the lantern was growing thick. Edward lapsed into
silence. He coughed, tried to wave away the noxious cloud. "We're done here,"
he said.
"Good." Falon seized Edward's elbow and steered him back up into the
starlight. The air was clean and tasted good. "But how can you be sure this is
his tomb? No name is engraved on it."
"Nevertheless, it is marked quite clearly. Look behind you." He pointed at the
partly-
assembled statue. "Look at the shield."
A burst of wind pulled at his garment.
Edward held the lantern close. In its flickering light, Falon saw only the
curious sword.
On the vault, and on the shield.
"It was his device," Edward said.
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Falon pressed his fingers against it. "How can you be so certain? There are
many who use weapon devices."
"This is not a weapon, Falon. It was a symbol sometimes employed by an obscure
religious cult. For many centuries, in fact, it was a mark of shame. It was
even said to have magic properties."
"Not a sword," said Falon.
Edward nodded. "No. They called it a cross."
Originally published in What Might Have Been, Vol 3, edited by Gregory Benford
& Martin H. Greenberg.
Bantam Spectra, 1991.
Copyright © 1991, Abbenford Associates.
Page 9 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl wyciskamy.pev.pl
Tiber. One account, of which I have a copy, maintained that he was taken
injured and half-drowned to a friendly but unnamed city. According to this
account, he lived in that city one year. Others say three. It's difficult to
be sure what really happened. The best sources agree that he hoped to lead
another army against Maxentius. But apparently he never fully recovered from
his injuries ." Edward shrugged. "I've looked many years for the truth."
"And how would you know the truth?"
"Easily. Find his tomb." He kicked away dead leaves and dirt and pointed
toward scratches on the stone floor. "Here is where his sarcophagus would have
been placed. His armor would have been stored on the shelf."
"For use in a future world?" asked Falon.
"Perhaps in a better world."
"Then this is his tomb?"
"Oh, yes, I am quite satisfied on that score. Yes: unquestionably he was
interred here."
Falon wondered how he could possibly know such things.
"While he lived, he talked of building a second Rome, in the east." His voice
filled with regret. "Something to survive."
The smoke thrown up by the lantern was growing thick. Edward lapsed into
silence. He coughed, tried to wave away the noxious cloud. "We're done here,"
he said.
"Good." Falon seized Edward's elbow and steered him back up into the
starlight. The air was clean and tasted good. "But how can you be sure this is
his tomb? No name is engraved on it."
"Nevertheless, it is marked quite clearly. Look behind you." He pointed at the
partly-
assembled statue. "Look at the shield."
A burst of wind pulled at his garment.
Edward held the lantern close. In its flickering light, Falon saw only the
curious sword.
On the vault, and on the shield.
"It was his device," Edward said.
Page 8
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Falon pressed his fingers against it. "How can you be so certain? There are
many who use weapon devices."
"This is not a weapon, Falon. It was a symbol sometimes employed by an obscure
religious cult. For many centuries, in fact, it was a mark of shame. It was
even said to have magic properties."
"Not a sword," said Falon.
Edward nodded. "No. They called it a cross."
Originally published in What Might Have Been, Vol 3, edited by Gregory Benford
& Martin H. Greenberg.
Bantam Spectra, 1991.
Copyright © 1991, Abbenford Associates.
Page 9 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]