Prince of Dogs

Again she hesitated. Courtiers leaned forward. Was there something of reluctance in her expression? Was she afraid to reveal her knowledge? Where had she gotten that book, and what did it contain?

“You would not wish to lie before the king, I hope,” said Hugh mildly.

“It is from the Inquiry Into Plants by Theophrastus,” she replied finally, her voice scarcely audible.

A murmur rose from the crowd, and there passed among them a certain amount of nudging and winking and a few sly glances toward Helmut Villam. Rosvita wondered if it was true that Villam had propositioned the handsome young Eagle. Indeed, the old margrave was gazing with rapt attention at the young woman.

“From whence does this come? ‘To one desiring to know by what path blessedness is reached the reply is, “Know thyself.”’?”

Startled, she looked up. “I don’t know,” she admitted.

He nodded, expecting this answer. “So writes Eustacia, repeating the words of the oracle at Talfi: ‘Gnosi seaton.’ But of course you do not know Arethousan, do you?”

“The one who taught me knows how much Arethousan I know,” she said with such an odd inflection that Rosvita wondered who had taught her Arethousan—and why.

Hugh lifted a hand in a graceful gesture that suggested there was more like this to come. “You have some knowledge of Dariyan. Does the word ‘Ciconia’ mean anything to you?”

“It means ‘stork,’” she said instantly as if, bested once, she meant to defeat him now.

“Nay, child, I refer to Tullia Marcia Ciconia, the great orator of ancient Dariya. Which works of hers have you read?”

“Which works of hers?”

“De officiis? De amicitia? Can you speak to me some of the wisdom contained in her words?”

“I—I don’t know those works. I mean to say, I’ve heard of them, but—” She faltered.

He nodded gently and glanced toward Sapientia as if to say, ‘Shall we stop this now?’ but he went on. “Surely you have instructed yourself in the writings of the church mothers?”

“I know the Acts of Saint Thecla,” she said defiantly.

“That is proper. Your Highness,” he nodded toward Sapientia, “you are familiar with the Acts as well, are you not?”

“Isn’t every child?” demanded Sapientia, looking affronted.

“The Acts, like The Shepherd of Hermas, is a work both noble and common folk may hear for their edification. But what of the writings with which the educated cleric instructs herself? Macrina of Nyssa’s The Catechetical Orations and her Life of Gregory? These fine works you have read, of course?”

She shook her head. A few of the courtfolk whispered among themselves. Some snickered.

“The City of God by Saint Augustina? Or her De Doctrina Daisanitia? Jerome’s Life of Saint Paulina the Hermit? Justin Martyr’s Dialogue with Zurhai the Jinna?”

Numbly, she shook her head and, just as King Henry raised a hand, growing bored with this display of ignorance, Hugh stood up. His audience quieted expectantly. The poor Eagle ducked her head, as any shamed creature would, to stare at the floor.

“Is it not said,” Hugh asked of Sapientia and the assembled clerics and layfolk together, as a teacher addresses his students, “that the emperor of all Jinna keeps a bird which he has taught to speak human words? Have you ever seen entertainers make dogs to walk upon two legs? Such learning makes neither bird nor dog educated, however. A child trained early enough can learn the meanings of words written upon a page, and speak them out loud, but that does not mean her understanding is equally trained. I believe we have before us a curiosity.” He smiled wryly but with a touch of gentle amusement such as an adult shows before an incredulous child’s outrageous claims. “Not a prodigy. Is it not so, Your Highness? How do you judge this case?”

Thus appealed to, Sapientia nodded sternly. “Of course what you say must be true, Father Hugh. It might be a mercy, then, to take this poor creature under my wing.”

Henry rose, and quickly any seated man or woman rose as well, young Brother Constantine almost spilling his red ink in his haste not to show discourtesy toward the king. “Let that be a lesson, daughter, that we are well served by wise counselors.”

“And some more than others,” murmured Villam so softly that only Rosvita and the king could hear.

Henry’s lips quirked, and he signed to his servants. There was a sudden flurry of activity at the other end of the hall. Two servants picked up his chair and carried it over to the central place. “I think we may now sit down to table,” Henry observed. He led the way.