Damiano Read Online Free PDF Page B

less than they seem. It is nature; their fate is to feed the few who have vision and courage. Most cities exist to be plundered, and it is out of that plunder we create the glory of Rome, of Florence, and of Milan.”
    Pardo smiled, with a too-knowing smile—with Guillermo Delstrego’s smile, in fact. And he was speaking in sly, comradely fashion, as Damiano had often heard his father speak to some low companion, the two sitting side by side in the empty stable, away from the light of the sun.
    â€œAlchemists are all posers,” Pardo said. “And real magic—black magic—is very rare. But it exists! I am sure in myself that it exists!”
    Damiano shook his head more violently. “Not for me,” he protested. “Never black magic.”
    â€œYour father was not above cursing an enemy,” Pardo contradicted equably. “And I’m told he did it effectively.”
    â€œWho told you? That’s hearsay. You mustn’t believe it!”
    â€œAn old man named Marco told me,” answered the general. “At the same time that he told me where the inhabitants of the city were hiding in the hills.”
    Damiano rose from his chair, his face draining. “Marco? He betrayed the citizens?”
    With one hand Pardo waved away Damiano’s shock. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to butcher them all. There’s no value in that. It is what they took with them that I want, and any villager who is willing to die over a purse or a ring of gold deserves what he gets.
    â€œBut it’s what Marco told me about your father and yourself that I found most interesting. He said your father was the most powerful witch—I mean, rather, wizard—in the Italies.”
    â€œHe was a witch,” said Damiano, dully, “and not the most powerful, by his own admission. He always said that Saara of Lombardy »»
    â€œGood enough,” interrupted Pardo. “He also said you were almost your father’s equal in power, though too faddish and delicate-minded for your own good.”
    â€œA mozzarella,” murmured Damiano, staring at the floor. Marco betraying the city. Soldiers with hairy knuckles ripping the gold from around Carla Denezzi’s neck. The gold and what else? He became aware that Pardo was still talking.
    â€œâ€”with me,” the general was saying. “I am not proposing a marriage, like that which you were so willing to arrange between this town and myself, but I am not a bad man. I am educated and a Christian. I kill no man for pleasure. Turn your skills to my service, and I promise you I will reward you well.”
    Damiano stared through Pardo. “What did you give Marco, for his services?”
    Pardo’s smile was crooked. “I have granted him the vineyard outside the gates,” he replied. “But Marco is an old sot and a traitor as well. I could be much more generous to a man of skill, whom I could trust.”
    Damiano found his tongue. “You will have no need to be generous with me, Signor General.”
    Pardo rose slowly from his bench. “You refuse me outright?” Like a cat, which begins its attack with a single step, the general advanced on Damiano. “Outright?” he repeated.
    â€œIt doesn’t even come to that,” answered the youth, standing his ground. “You see, I would be of no use to you. The abilities I possess —or even those of my father—do not make good weapons of war. If they had, I think he would have used them so.”
    General Pardo stood facing Damiano. They were almost of a height. “Explain,” barked the general.
    Damiano leaned forward upon his staff. He gazed at the red tile floor, thinking. At last he began.
    â€œWorks of magic are no different from ordinary labor. One starts with material and adds the strength of one’s own power, and in the end you have made something. When I threw open all the doors and windows of the