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.Gabriel detected a spicy scent, like cinnamon.“The saints bless you,” Gerius said.Gabriel opened his eyes.“I feel quite invincible,” he said.“Let’s get on with it.”Jingling and treading heavily under the weight of the iron, carrying his sword sheathed in one hand, Gabriel followed Genus into the wood.Clancy followed, and behind her, Manfred.I have my gun, Clancy reported, just in case.She had her medical bag in one hand, and the other was hidden in her cloak.Very wise, Gabriel replied.Take command of Manfred, will you?As you wish, Aristos.Dew sparkled from Gabriel’s boot-toes as he walked through the spring grass.He began a careful series of stepped meditations, his hands again in Mudras of Concentration, all designed to fire his glandular system, to increase the ACTH supply from the hypothalamus that would in turn trigger the release of epinephrine, adrenaline, cortisone.Blood poured out of his constricting digestive system, was diverted to major muscles.He narrowed the capillaries of the skin, both to reserve blood for the muscles and to prevent excessive bleeding in the event of injury.His skin would look pale and clammy—perhaps the others would think him afraid—but his muscles would swell with power.The trees parted and revealed three men standing by picketed horses.Gabriel shuddered as his muscles reacted to the onslaught of blood and chemistry.Silvanus stood among the three, his face a fierce cosmetic scowl.He waved his sword two-handed in big circles, warming his shoulders.“Wait here,” Gerius said, and stepped forward into the grove.The two strangers, one casually hefting an axe, approached him and the three conferred for a space.Then they began to pace the ground, clearing small spring growth away with the axe, kicking stones away.Gabriel began to stretch again.Birds sang in the trees: chemical awareness sang in Gabriel’s blood.The three walking men managed to scare up a half-dozen startled quail.One of the men cursed loudly in surprise.The last bush hacked away, the three approached Gabriel and Clancy.One of the strangers was a middle-aged, grey-haired man in a black cassock with a red pinstripe.The other was young, wearing the skirt and mail sleeves of a duelist.He had a pointed face and a sneering smile.“Your Highness,” Gerius said, “may I introduce the physician Lavinius, and Silvanus’s friend Lord Augustino.”Gabriel crossed his hands over his breast and bowed.“I would like to confide,” he said, “that I have never had any intention of provoking the Knight Silvanus to this quarrel.”Augustino flipped his hands.“Hardly matters,” he said.“The offense existed whether the prince meant it or not.”The physician sighed, and dabbled at his mouth with the ends of a kind of neckcloth he wore about his collar.There was old blood on the cloth that had not entirely washed away.Gerius turned to Augustino.“Bring your man to the mark,” he said, “and so shall I.”Gabriel turned to Clancy as the others marched away.He drew his sword, tested its weight.The sunlight rippled along the silver blade.His consciousness seemed to swell through the wood, encompassing the trees, the dawn, the weaponed men, the waiting horses.Words filled his heart.“The damn runs like blood on the steel,Yet my heart is at peace.Why must the trumpets disturb the stillness?”Clancy stepped forward, took his arm, kissed his cheek.As she stepped back he saw that she was in a Posture of Respect, her hands at the salute, right fist in left palm.Gabriel returned the posture, the gesture, cupping his left hand around the sword hilt.He dropped the scabbard to the ground and walked to the center of the clearing.His soul still swirled through the woods; he called his daimones to heel and deliberately narrowed his focus to the figure of Silvanus, seeing him intently, as if through the wrong end of a telescope.His daimones heightened his awareness of sight, touch, and hearing, then dampened the rest.Adrenaline-fired blood sang in his ears [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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