Child of Flame

The intransigence of Lord Dietrich, his retainers, and about twenty assorted folk of various stations and purpose troubled her more.

“What minion of the Enemy has fastened its claws inside you?” she demanded after Lord Dietrich refused for the third time to disavow the doctrine of the sacrifice and redemption. “The Mother and Father of Life, who are God in Unity, brought forth the universe. Into this creation they placed the four pure elements, light, wind, fire, and water. Above creation rests the Chamber of Light, and below lies the Enemy, which we also call darkness. Yet as the elements drifted in harmony, they came into contact with the darkness, which had risen out of the depths. Together, they mingled. The universe cried out in distress at this pollution, and God therefore sent the Word of Thought, which we also call Logos, to be its salvation. God made this world through the Word of Thought, yet there remains darkness in it. That is why there is evil and confusion in the world.”

“The blessed Daisan redeemed us,” said Ekkehard stubbornly, interrupting her. Lord Dietrich had the sense to remain silent.

“Of course he did! The blessed Daisan brought the Word of Thought to us all. He prayed for seven days and seven nights seeking redemption for all who would follow the faith of the Unities and be brought into the Light. And at the end of that time, angels conveyed him to heaven in a light so blinding that St. Thecla herself, who witnessed his Ekstasis, could not see for seven times seven days afterward.”

“He was sacrificed! He was flayed by the order of the Empress Thaissania, but his blood became roses, and he lived again! He rose from the dead.”

“Silence!” Alberada struck the floor with the butt of her crosier. The sharp knock silenced him as well as all those whispering excitedly in the hall at his outspoken words. Even the cleric whispering a translation into Duke Boleslas’ ear clamped his mouth shut. “You are guilty of heresy, Prince Ekkehard. The penalty for heresy is excommunication and exile, or death.”

“I am willing to die,” said Lord Dietrich calmly, not without triumph. He coughed, and blew his nose into a handful of straw.

“You can’t punish me,” exclaimed Ekkehard manfully. “I’m the king’s son, born out of legitimate marriage!”

“I am the church, here in Handelburg,” replied Alberada, ignoring the reference to her own illegitimate birth. “I do not punish you, Prince Ekkehard. It is the church which punishes you and all those who follow your heretical teachings. But it is true that you represent a special case. You will have to be sent to the king’s court.”

“To my father?” Ekkehard abruptly looked much younger, a boy caught in mischief who has just realized he’ll get in trouble for it.

Bayan let out an explosive grunt of anger. “How many soldiers must I send in escort to him? How fewer many then will stand on the walls, when Quman attack us?”

“Can’t you just put Ekkehard in the monastery until the Quman are defeated?” Sapientia placed a hand on Bayan’s arm as though to soothe the savage beast. “He’s abbot of St. Perpetua’s in Gent, after all.”

“And expose the holy monks to this plague of heresy? Bad enough that I receive reports every week of this pollution spreading in the countryside! Nay, he must go to the king, or remain here in prison, without recourse to the sacraments, until the Quman are defeated and he can travel safely and with a large escort. A guard will be placed in the tower to assure that he does not communicate with any sympathizers—”

“Ach!” Bayan threw up his hands in exasperation. With a foul glare at a dog which had draped itself over his feet, he kicked it free, grabbed his cup, and downed a full goblet of wine. A servant hurried to refill it. “I need guards to walls, to sentry. To fight the Quman. Not to sit on our own countryfolk.”

“You do not appreciate the gravity of our situation, Prince Bayan, which I fear I must attribute to some deficiency in your understanding as a recent convert. I cannot allow the Enemy to tri-umph. I cannot allow the Arethousan pollution to defile the kingdom and the holy church. I cannot turn aside and look the other way when Prince Ekkehard’s errors threaten us all.”

“To my thinking,” said Bayan, “it is the Quman who threaten us all.”

“Better we be dead than heretics!”

Bayan twisted the ends of his mustaches irritably, but he did not reply. As at the ancient tumulus, he recognized the point where one chose a strategic retreat over wholesale disaster.

“I choose death,” said Lord Dietrich. “Let my martyrdom prove who speaks the truth.”