"Michael Flynn - Eifelheim" - читать интересную книгу автора (Flynn Michael)

subtle persecution, and so perhaps a more subtle courage was called for. The French had not cut
Boniface down as the Romans had Sixtus тАУ but the Pope had died from the manhandling.

Boniface had been an arrogant, contemptuous man with not a friend in the world; and yet, was

he not also a martyr? But Boniface had died less for proclaiming the Gospel than for proclaiming
Unam sanctum, to the great displeasure of King Philip and his court, whereas Sixtus had been a

Godly man in an ungodly age.
Dietrich glanced suddenly over his shoulder, then chided himself for the start. Did he suppose

that they would come for him, too? It was not beyond reason that they might. But what cause

had the Markgraf Friedrich to seize him?
Or rather, what cause that Friedrich might know of?

Do not be afraid, the dayтАЩs prayer had commanded, the most frequent command from the

LordтАЩs mouth. He thought again of Sixtus. If the ancients had not quailed even at death, why
should his own heart, instructed by modern wisdom, harbor fear for no sound reason?

He studied the vagrant hairs on the back of his hand, brushed them flat, and watched them rise

again up. How would Buridan have approached this problem, or Albrecht? He marked his place
in the book for Lauds; then he placed a fresh hour-candle in the candlestick, trimmed the wick,

and lit it with a taper from the stub of the old.
Flynn: Eifelheim Page 6 of 467



Albrecht had written, Experimentum solum certificat in talibus. Experiment is the only safe
guide.

He silhouetted the woolen sleeve of his gown before the candle flame, and a smile slowly

creased his lips. He felt that curious satisfaction that always enveloped him when he had reasoned
his way to a question and then coaxed an answer from the world.

The woolen fibers of his sleeve stood also upright. Ergo, he thought, the impetus impressed

upon his hair was both external and material, as a woolen cassock had no ghostly part to be
frightened. So, the nameless dread that troubled him was no more than a reflection of that

material impression upon his soul.

But the knowledge, however satisfying to the intellect, did not quiet the will.
***

Later, as Dietrich crossed to the church to pray the morning Mass, a whine drew his gaze to