"Michael Moorcock - London, My Life or The Sedentary Jew" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moorcock Michael)

up on the other side of the river. I was never superstitious, but I had to
admit I was feeling a bit creeped out.

“Look,” I said, “have the thing. Have them both and bugger off back to
your ship before Gerald’s mates start turning up.” I held the cup and the
spear out to them and they backed away, making various signs with their
fingers. Then the spear started tingling in my hand. Then the cup began to
do the same. A queer, itchy sort of feeling.

“Blasphemer, I condemn thee to live in this city for days without end
until it shall cease to exist save as ash blowing across a barren wasteland
and thou shalt never see thy homeland again!” roared Joseph, and raised
his eyes to heaven.

I would have thought little more of this if a bolt of lightning hadn’t
suddenly zapped out of the sky, struck the tip of the spear, run up my arm
and flung me against the far wall, dazed as I watched a somewhat smug
Joseph collect up his goods and lead his followers out. After referring to
Jessie as ‘a Jezebel’, which seemed a bit redundant, and saying ‘I divorce
thee’ three times (evidently not above a bit of religious backsliding when it
was convenient), Joseph led his followers back to the river. They returned
to the ship and began rowing towards what is now Greenwich, the way they
had come. I never saw him again. And at the time I couldn’t even remember
the substance of his curse, which I had to admit was pretty dramatic. He
must have known there was a summer storm building. No plague of
anything. No mysterious sickness. He had just been impressing his
followers. I was glad to see the back of them.

Soon Jessie was stroking my forehead and helping me to a sip of
nice Tuscan red while Gerald held the wineskin. “Let him keep his silly
spear,” she said, snuggling against me, “and his stupid cup. After all, we
have each other.”

That suited me. It was no more than I had expected in the first place.
That afternoon she was if anything even more passionate. The lightning
strike had done no serious damage. In fact I felt invigorated, full of energy.
Jessie was very impressed (and secretly so was I). It would be a couple of
weeks before I understood the snags.

Some years later, I heard Joseph of Arimathea had established his
colony and made quite an impression on the locals. But I never had a
chance to go down and see it for myself. I’d become a Londoner, whether I
liked it or not.

****

The novel is a work in progress and as yet has no publisher.