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A gust of particularly cold wind buffeted the cathedral tower, and the Irishman shivered and got back in under the sculptured arch of the small observatory alcove. Their narrow and drafty vantage point was not the highest or most easily accessible, but von Salm and various military advisors had two weeks ago sealed off and taken possession of the platform that commanded the best view. Aurelianus had said it didn't matter, that the little open landing they now occupied was high enough above the rooftops and street-smokes to make star-gazing possible; and for what Duffy considered to be a very long hour now that was what he had been doing.
Finally the old sorcerer leaned back from the eye-piece, rubbing the bridge of his nose with one hand and balancing the telescope on the rail with the other. 'It's chaotic,' he muttered. 'There's no order, nothing to be read. It's.. .un
pleasant to see the sky this way, it's like asking a question of an old, wise friend and getting imbecilic grunting and whining for an answer.' The image seemed to upset Aurelianus, and he went on quickly. 'You're the cause, you know, the random factor, the undefinable cipher that makes gibberish of all the trusty old equations.'
The Irishman shrugged. 'Maybe you'd have been better off without me from the start. Saved your time. Hell, I haven't really done anything so far that any hired bravo couldn't have done.
'I don't know,' Aurelianus said. 'I'm limited to what I can actually see and touch - I don't know!' He looked at Duffy. 'Did you hear about the newest movement of the Janissaries?'
'Yes. They've shifted west, as if they intended a suicide charge at the unweakened southwestern front. What about it?'
'What do you think would happen if they did attack there?'
Duffy shrugged. 'Like I said - suicide. They'd lose a thousand men in five minutes.'
'Might one call it a.. .sacrifice?'
'To gain what? There'd be no sense in sending the Janissaries, their finest troops - oh my God.' The Irishman carefully sat down and leaned his back against the rail. 'I thought you had one of the only two copies of the damned thing in the world.'
'So did I.' Aurelianus squinted out over the dark rooftops. 'And maybe I do. Maybe Ibrahim has got the Vatican copy... or hopes somehow to get mine.' He shook his white head thoughtfully. 'As soon as I heard of the shift it occurred to me - it's the Janissaries, the troops conscripted from among the children of conquered Christians...'
'At least a thousand baptized souls.'
'Right.'
'Look, he's probably got spies in the city - it may very well be that he doesn't yet have a copy of Didius' Loathesome Whatnot, and is counting on having yours stolen.' The sorcerer stared at him blankly, so Duffy went on. 'Isn't it obvious? Destroy your copy.'
Aurelianus looked away, frowning deeply. 'I'm... not ready to do that.'
The Irishman felt a wave of pity and horror. 'Don't even consider it, man! There must be clean strategies - and even if we do lose Vienna, you've said the main thing is having the Fisher King alive. You and he could escape through those tunnels the Dark Birds mentioned, and set up for a better stand somewhere else. The Turks can hardly come any further into Europe this season.'
'Quite possibly true, Brian, but how can I know? With the right kind of sorcerous aid maybe they could come further, maybe much further. Maybe the Fisher King will die if he doesn't get a draught of the Dark - he'll certainly get no better. Hell, it's not hard to do the honorable thing when you can see, up ahead, how it is going to turn out. Damn this blindness,' he hissed, pounding a fist against the stone, 'and damn Ibrahim, and damn that old painter.'
Duffy blinked. 'What old painter?'
'What? Oh, Gustav Vogel, of course. He's clairvoyant, as I've told you, and he isn't allied to the presently occluded old magic. If I could have got that sanctimonious old bastard to do a few more visionary paintings, I might have been able to see what is coming, and able to forget this.. .terrible move. But the old wretch was afraid of me - may the Janissaries use his head for a cannon ball! - and in the last two years he has done nothing.'
'That's true,' agreed Duffy with a sympathetic nod. 'Aside from that crazy Death of the Archangel Michael on his wall, I guess he hasn't.'
Aurelianus emitted a choked scream, and the telescope
spun away over the rail. 'What, damn you? Llyr and Mananan! Such a work exists?' He was on his feet, waving his fists. 'Why didn't you tell me this before, fool? You are Michael the Archangel to him - don't you remember the portrait you sat for, that led me to you? Michael is the only Christian identity he can put to what you are. Idiot, don't you see the importance of this? This old artist has clairvoyant, and likely prophetic, powers. And he's done a picture, I gather, of your death. There may very well be a clue in it to the outcome of this battle.'
From below came the muted crash of the telescope hitting the pavement. 'Oh?' said Duffy, a little stiffly. 'Whether or not it shows my corpse surrounded by bloody-sworded Turks, you mean?'
'Well, yes, roughly. There would be a lot of other, more esoteric, indications to look for as well. But haven't you seen this picture, at least? What is it of?'
The Irishman shrugged apologetically. 'I seem to recall a lot of figures. To tell you the truth, I have never really looked. But if you're right about all this, I hope it's a picture of an incredibly old man, surrounded by hundreds of friends, dying moderately drunk in bed.'
Visibly controlling his impatience, the wizard took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. 'Let's go and see,' he said.
They clattered down the stairs and set out across the city at a trot that brought them to the old Schottengasse boarding house in ten minutes, and left Aurelianus gasping
asthmatically for breath. 'No,' he croaked when Duffy indicated a bench to sit down on in the entry hail. 'Onward!'
They had not brought a light, and so had to grope and stumble up the dark stairs. For a moment Duffy was nervous about having the lake-vision again, but then he sensed that in some way things had gone beyond that. It was not a reassuring thought.
When they reached the third floor landing Duffy himself was panting heavily, and Aurelianus was incapable of speech, 'though he managed jerkily to wave one arm in furious query. Duffy nodded, found Gustav Vogel's door by touch and pounded on it.
