"Sean McMullen - A Ring of Green Fire" - читать интересную книгу автора (McMullen Sean)

striking at King Henry that I destroyed my integrity as a physician to do it. Avenzoar, I spent four
decades rebuilding my life after what he did. I became one of the greatest physicians in all Islam... then I
visited him as a physician and defiled my healing hands to murder him. I was so obsessed by the chase
that I ignored the outcome."
He stood slowly and shuffled across to the fountain, with Avenzoar following. The poet put a hand on
his shoulder as he washed his face. "Accepting that you have done evil is a step toward atoning for it, my
friend. Stay here for a while, rest and talk with Avenzoar, your friend and fellow physician."
 "No, no. I am sincere in my remorse. You always say that about me, that I am too sincere for my own
good. Have you not noticed that since I arrived I have never been able to meet your eyes for more than a
moment? Whenever I meet a fellow physician I am shamed to remember that I have murdered, and I
have to hang my head. Ah, but soon I shall go to where I shall meet no other physicians, to where I can
shout the truth of how I murdered King Henry to the empty deserts of Africa. First I shall sign my worldly
goods to you, then I shall travel along the salt road to the barren granite mountains of Aghadez and the
marshy shores of Lake Tchad."
"You cannot be serious. The loss of your skills would be a crime in itself."
"My skills will not be lost to the sick in the great desert of Africa. Meantime, use my fortune to train
needy students and to foster the arts of healing in whatever way you will-- and should any woman come
to you complaining of numbness within, or any man disrobe to reveal a ring of green fire about his penis,
well, you now have the cure."
"But this is terrible. Your very words show you to be of good heart. Please stay."
Now the visitor held him by both arms and looked fleetingly into his eyes. "If I agreed to stay, you
would probably despise me in the depths of your heart. Come now, let us find a scribe. I have much
wealth to make over to you."
***


Later that afternoon, when his guest had departed, Avenzoar toured the partly completed Minaret with
Ali al-Ghumari, his architect. As the sun's disk shimmered near the horizon they gazed out across the
capital of al-Andalus.
"It is safe for now," said Avenzoar, "but one day a green fire may come to blight this fair city."
"Is it a weapon?" asked the architect with mild interest. "Is it like Greek fire?"
"It is English fire," replied Avenzoar.
"Hah! It must be fierce indeed to burn in spite of their rain," the architect laughed. "What is its fuel?"
Avenzoar fingered the scrap of folded parchment for reassurance. "Neglect and hatred," he said
softly.
The architect pondered this for a moment, running his hand along the newly laid brickwork. "A cheap
and plentiful fuel," he replied at last, and Avenzoar nodded.
Published by Alexandria Digital Literature. ( http://www.alexlit.com/ )

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