“The night had been filled with visions and hallucinations, with the chanting women, the despairing warriors, the voices calling not only Sharadim but calling me also—calling me by a thousand different names. When von Bek found me, as I was putting the finishing touches to my toilet, he remarked again on how ill I seemed. “Are these dreams of yours a permanent condition of the life you’ve described?” “Not permanent,” I told him, “but frequent.” “I do not envy you, Herr Daker.” Von Bek had been g...iven fresh clothing. He moved awkwardly in the soft leather shirt and trousers and the thicker leather jerkin, the tall boots. “I look like some robber in a Sturm und Drang play,” he said. He continued to be sardonically amused by his situation and I must admit I was glad of his company. It was a relief, at least, from my doom-filled premonitions and dreams. “These clothes,” he said, “are at least fairly clean! And I see they gave you hot water, too. I suppose we should count ourselves fortunate.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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