Daughter of Regals (51 page)

“Dom Peralt—fool that he
was—shook his head, but his smile remained.

“‘You have been familiar
with this foul woman,’ pursued Crossus Hught. ‘Now you betray her, and you
smile because you think to escape her fate. Evil is weak against the will of
Heaven for many reasons, but most because it knows no virtue except treachery.
So the very demons sacrifice each other, to procure their own safety. Do not
think that we who serve the Temple are blind.’

Dom Peralt lowered his
eyes, bowing his head so that his smile would be less plain. ‘Your pardon, High
Templeman,’ he said softly. His voice conveyed a tremor which might have been
fear. ‘I mean nothing unseemly. I smile only at the thought of justice.’

“‘Justice, is it?’
returned the High Templeman. Abruptly, he settled his miter once again in the
crook of his arm. ‘You do not appear to be a man who is much concerned for such
pure matters. if you care for justice, why have you not set foot in the Temple of
God from the day of the witch’s capture to this, seeking remission for your
mortal faults from the justice of Heaven?’

“When Dom Peralt raised
his eyes again, they were full of darkness, and his smile was gone. With
elaborate care, he replied, ‘In the matter of the witch Thamala I have
committed no fault. Before this last slaving day, I had never seen her. I
purchased her because the slaver Growt demanded it of me. I chose her from
among all his slaves because she caught my whim. And for that same whim I set
her free. I had no knowledge of her evil.’ With more wisdom than I had credited
to him, he refrained from claiming that the Templemen had imprisoned him
unjustly. Instead, he said, ‘When she came to me in my cell, I snared her and
delivered her to the Templemen, fulfilling my duty to both God and man.

“‘High Templeman,’ he
concluded in a tone which might have been mistaken for humility, ‘will you
declare here, before the judica, that I must repent what I have done?’

“That
was
foolish. A child could have warned Dom Peralt that such men as Crossus Hught
are not notoriously forgiving of wit in others. But the High Templeman had no
present recourse but to ignore that wit. Turning from Dom Peralt, he said
stiffly to Templeman Knarll, ‘Let us commence.’

“Sighing between
battered lips, the watch Thamala sank to her knees. Were it not sacrilege to consider
her honorable, one might have thought that she retained strength enough—in
spirit, if not in body—to care what happened to Dom Peralt.

“Templeman Knarll glowered
his disfavor at her. Perhaps now he regretted the impulse which had led him to
request the High Templeman’s attendance. Thamala had resisted his most
searching interrogations. Her reticence—like Dom Peralt’s affrontery—did not
speak well for Templeman Knarll’s stewardship over the region. There was a
particular grimness in his voice as he began the ceremonies of the judica.

“First he welcomed us to
the performance of our duty.

He asked for the names
of any men of station who were not hold half the proper admonitions. Templeman Knarll’s
crime of witchcraft strictly, according to the will of Heaven, for the safety
of our own souls. Faugh! It is well that the Temple is served by abler men than
I. My fat head will not hold half the proper admonitions. Templeman Knarll’s
memory, however, did not fail. And that was well for him. He did not wish to appear
foolish before High Templeman Crossus Hught.

“After the appropriate
invocations, he proceeded to deliver the Temple’s formal accusation against the
witch Thamala. ‘It is charged’—or some such phrase—’that you have abandoned the
teachings of Heaven. That you have consorted with witches, participating in
their most foul practices. That you have studied witchcraft, knowing it to be evil—a
defiance of God and His Temple.’ A fulsome list, truly. It was plain that
Thamala had never drawn a breath which was not deliberate and mortal sin. But
that, of course, was merely the ritual accusation cited against all witches. A
listing of Thamala’s particular evils followed. ‘That you have lived among
gypsies, the outcast of Heaven. That you have worked your abominable wiles upon
them, whose souls have no defense.’ And so on. Such an impressive recital would
justly have won confession from the first mother of all witches.

“Certainly we were
impressed. Experienced as we were with the judica and its work, we were still
impressed. It is an impressive thing to hear a helpless woman damned  in every
item of her life, every corner of her soul. For good reason, no one accused by
the Temple has ever been found innocent.

Dom Peralt listened
attentively, his eyes on Templeman Knarll’s face, his smile faintly upon his
lips. But he appeared unmoved, as though his innocence were complete. And
Thamala remained on her knees and showed no  reaction, as though she were deaf
to what was being said against her.

“But when Templeman
Knarll came to his conclusion and asked of her, ‘What do you say to these
things?’ she gave him an answer. With great difficulty because of her
weakness—and because her hands were bound with iron at her back—she rose to her
feet. On her face was a look of strange yearning, as though she wished as
keenly as love for the strength to mount the ramp at once and cast herself into
the cauldron, before she could be condemned. In a voice hardly audible around
the highest tier, she replied, ‘You have murdered my mother and all who held
her dear. Now you mean to murder me. Do it and have done. God in His Heaven
gazes down upon you with abhorrence.’

“‘Vile wretch!’ snarled
Templeman Knarll, raising his hand to strike her. But High Templeman Crossus
Hught snapped at once, ‘Hold! Here she may say whatever she will. Her words
purify the judica of doubt and false pity.’ Then he turned toward Thamala and
touched his miter to her shoulder.

“Dumbly, she gazed at
him as though he had power to command her. Bending his look of madness over
her, he said softly, almost fondly, ‘Woman, you are my daughter in the spirit.
The care of your immortal soul is my duty and my great treasure. You believe
that we mean to deal with you harshly—and perhaps by mortal standards we
are
harsh. But there is God’s love for you in what we do. By the standards of
Heaven, only the harsh mortification of the flesh may hope to free the soul.
The sufferings of your body will soon end. But the sufferings of your soul— Ah,
your soul cries out for forgiveness, though you do not heed it.

“‘Woman, you say that we
have murdered your mother. What was she, that the judica required her death?’

“Thamala did not reply.
Crossus Hught seemed to hold her eyes so that she could not turn away. But she
did not speak.

“In response, his manner
became more stem. ‘If you confess humbly and repent your life, there is hope of
Heaven’s smile. But if you harden your heart, the torment which awaits your
soul will make child’s play of your present pain.’ Had I been in her place’ I
would have admitted to all that he desired. Truly! Though I sat in the highest
tier and had no part of her crimes, I could hardly hold my tongue. ‘Your mother
met her death,’ he continued, ‘because she pursued the fiendish power of witch—

craft. Knowing her
fate—the fate which God wills for all evil—why did you choose the way of
witchery for yourself? Did you wish to revenge yourself upon those who judged
her? Or did you love the lascivious ill of witches?’

“Still she made no
answer. Around the chamber, strong, good men sweated in the heat of the
cauldron—and in plain dread of what they witnessed—but she was not swayed. The
bruises and swellings on her face distorted her expression, so that it could
not be read. But her eyes held life yet, and they were not cowed by Crossus
Hught.

“For a moment, he
glanced around the chamber. Perhaps he wished to see that we judged her
silence as it deserved. His colourless gaze rested briefly on Dom Permit. Then
he returned his attention to Thamala.

“Setting the end of his
miter to her cheek, he pressed her to face the cauldron. From the foot of the
ramp below the pot, she could not see its contents. But the fire in the kiln
made a steady roaring, and at intervals the molten iron could be heard to
bubble.

“‘There is your doom,
witch,’ said the High Templeman. ‘Look for hope and mercy there, not from me.
You will find that the agony is terrible. But it will be brief. A moment’s
anguish—a few screams. Nothing more. The agony of your soul will endure.
Fiercer than any physical hurt, it will go on and on without let, and you will
never escape. Only by confession and repentance may you hope to ameliorate the
fire which awaits you.

“‘Answer but one
question, and God may be moved to hear you. Thamala, why did you enter the cell
of Dom Sen Peralt when he had set you free? Was he not your paramour in
witchcraft? Did you not attempt to rescue him because you had need of him, in
love and in power?’ Crossus Hught’s voice had become a lash again, cutting at
her. himself, snaring you for the judica because he feared to risk his life in
flight with you?’

“In the chamber, the
silence of the judica became intense. The High Templeman had found his way
around Dom Peralt’s protestations of innocence. Now with one word Thamala could
damn Dom Permit, and nothing that he might say in his own defense would save
him. He sat rigidly, heedless of the sweat standing on his brow. A greater fool
might have made objections, but he had
wit
enough to avoid that pitfall.
Clenching his silence between his teeth, he watched Thamala’s blood-crusted
back and waited. We all watched and waited, knowing that if Dom Peralt could be
thus implicated in witchery none of us would ever again be safe. At last we saw
why High Templeman Crossus Hught had accepted Templeman Knarll’s invitation.
Here the High Templeman sought to extend his power into new territory.

“And Thamala did answer.
Facing the cauldron with Crossus Hught’s miter jabbed against her bruises, she
said in tight outrage, ‘Do you never wonder how witches breed? You murder us
and murder us—and yet we endure. But there are no male witches. We must seduce
men to beget children upon us, so that we will continue.

“‘When Dom Peralt
purchased me, I saw that he was strong and goodly—a fit man to father a child.
Therefore I sought to rescue him, thinking that he would find me desirable. But
he did not. In his eyes, I was evil, and he spurned me.’

“Thus she paid her debt.
Damning herself, she defeated the accusation against Dom Peralt.

“For a moment, an
appearance of consternation reigned over the judica as your fathers disguised
their relief with surprise and indignation. High Templeman Crossus Hught’s face
grew red, his blood enflamed by the failure of his ploy. Perhaps he saw a
vision of good King Traktus’ reaction when our monarch learned that the High
Templeman had attempted to embroil an innocent Dom in the judgment of a witch.
Dom Peralt’s jaws knotted with the effort he made to suppress what he felt.

“‘Godless wretch!’ cried
Templeman Knarll. With the end of his crozier, he struck Thamala so that she
fell to the stone. ‘Will you utter falsehood in the teeth of doom?’ He had good
reason for his dismay. Whatever chagrin afflicted the High Templeman because of
this failure would be visited doubly upon Templeman Knarll. But his eyes-.and
Crossus Hught’s—watched Dom Peralt avidly.

“That snare Dom Peralt
also avoided. By no movement or expression or word did he betray any concern
for the witch. Let all her bones be broken there before him, and let her be
damned! Raising his head, he said in a loud voice, ‘Praise be to God and the
justice of the Temple! I am vindicated!’

“The glare which High
Templeman Crossus Hught fixed upon Dom Peralt was murderous and wild. The blood
beat so furiously beneath his pale skin that we feared a seizure. But there
remained nothing that he could do. Not one of us would now vote death upon Dow
Peralt. If the High Templeman persisted, he would appear to have lost his
reason. And that report must surely damage him in the eyes of good King
Traktus. Therefore he put the best face possible upon his defeat. Trembling in
voice and limb, he turned his back toward Dow Peralt and addressed the judica.

“‘It is our work to
judge and punish evil,’ he said. ‘An accusation of witchcraft has soiled the
good name of Dow Sen Peralt’—he cast a dire glance at Templeman Knarll, who
appeared to shrink under it like a depleted wineskin—’and that accusation has
been found false. In this the high purpose of the judica shows itself,
winnowing the honest from the ill. For this was the judica instituted, so that
the innocent would be spared when the guilty are adjudged.

“‘But this woman is
condemned out of her own mouth.’ As he spoke, his passion rose. ‘Out of her own
mouth! She admits herself the daughter of a witch. She admits herself
vulnerable to the judgment of the judica, and she offends Heaven by naming that
judgment murder. She admits her intent to seduce Dow Peralt, so that she might
breed her evil! She refuses repentance. She denies the just interrogation of
the judica. And to this must be added that she entered Don Peralt’s ceil when
none but a witch might do so, bypassing the guards with her wiles.

 “‘No other evidence is
required.’

 “When he chose to
unleash it, his voice was indeed an admirable instrument—at once clarion and
cutting. By such men, even Kings may be daunted. ‘It remains to us,’ he
continued, ‘to consider who we are and why we are here by the will of Heaven.
We are the spiritual servants of the Temple of God and the temporal servants of
our estates and towns and peoples. To us belongs the brow to protect and purify
what we serve. We give the world order! Around us lurk fiends and darknesses of
every kind—demons of seduction, souls that know not God, terrifying powers.
Threatened by such perils, no honorable man or devout goodwoman may set foot
from home without fear. At any moment, any good thing may be devoured in evil.
Only we—we who serve God in spirit and in body—only we stem the world’s ill.