Summa Elvetica: A Casuistry of the Elvish Controversy and Other Stories Read Online Free PDF

stopped at the bedside of a grim-faced dwarf with deep-set eyes, orange-red hair, and a somber mien. He blinked in apparent surprise at being approached.
    “This here’s Lodi,” the training master said. “He took a goblin spear in the side six days ago. But he’s a tough old wardog. Took down four or five goblins and two orcs by hisself, just in that one fight alone. He’s left-handed, likes a warhammer—no surprise—but he’s not too shabby with a blade, neither. Not all that quick, but he’s patient and makes for a mean counterfighter. What do you have, Lodi, eighteen wins?”
    “Twenty-three,” the dwarf answered in a deep, cracked voice. It sounded as if he had not spoken in days, which was quite possibly the case considering the level of neglect here. His eyes were glazed with either exhaustion or poppy seed, but he was coherent. “What do you want?”
    “A bodyguard,” Marcus answered, stepping forward and meeting the dwarf’s eyes.
    Those eyes were dark with suffering, yet contained none of the hatred or helpless fury that so indelibly marked the rest of his kin. There was a week’s growth of reddish stubble covering his face, but it was clear that not even being clean-shaven had caused this dwarf to forget that he had once been free. Blood had seeped through the dirty bandage on his side, some time ago from the dark, crusted look of it, and there was no sign of green or yellow discharge.
    “Can you ride with that?”
    “Won’t make for much of a bodyguard, I’d say,” Sextus commented.
    The dwarf’s eyes narrowed. “A bodyguard?”
    “Yes,” Marcus said. “I’m going on a journey and will require one.”
    “Will that get me out of here?” the dwarf asked, glancing at the training master, who nodded. “You’ll have to tie me to the beast, I think, but you’ll hear no complaints from me, even if it chafes me raw.”
    “Or you bleed to death?”
    The dwarf turned his head toward Sextus. “It takes more than a scratch from an orc to kill a dwarf. I’ll live, and I’ll keep your friend alive too.”
    Sextus glanced at Marcus and shrugged. If nothing else, the dwarf was certainly tough, and it was hard not to admire his determination.
    “How much?” Marcus asked the training master.
    “And we’ll expect a discount, of course,” Sextus said. “You have to admit, he’s not quite in what you’d call prime condition.”

I A Q. VII A. I ARG. II
Praeterea, homines in imagine Dei et ad similitudinem Dei creati sunt. Aelvi in imagine Dei et ad similitudinem Dei non creati sunt. Ergo aelvi habent animae naturaliter sibi unita.
    THE SUN HAD not yet risen, but Marcus was amazed by the number of clients that were already waiting in the courtyard of the Valerian house. On a normal morning there were perhaps twenty-five or thirty men of quality gathered to perform their daily ritual of paying homage to the great man and collecting their daily benefice. But today there appeared to be twice that number, even discounting the numerous household and stable slaves who were busily arranging saddlebags, checking horseshoes, and otherwise preparing Barat and the other three horses that he, Marcipor, and Lodi would take on their long journey to Elebrion.
    Magnus himself had not yet appeared, but the collection of clients, some important, some insignificant, stirred nevertheless at Marcus’s approach.
    One elderly man, a senator judging by the broad red stripe that marked his black tunic, was the first to greet him as the others fell back in honor of his rank, pressing a small leather bag into his hand. “We shall pray without ceasing for your mission, Marcus Valerius. Take this. It shall stand you in good stead, and may the hand of the Purified be upon you!”
    “Thank you, Senator,” Marcus bowed to the nobleman and stared quizzically at the bag.
    “It is the knucklebone of Saint Ansfrid of Tolanon. It is said to be a powerful rebuke to the elvish sorceries. I hardly think it likely to be of much