Cloud Walker, All Fools' Day, Far Sunset (11 page)

‘My father’s watchman has a spy-glass. He reports on the arrival of vessels for trade.’

‘Then he will not report on the antics of an unwilling aeronaut,’ said Kieron patiently. ‘Also, you were aloft so little time, and it would not be possible to discern your identity from such a distance.’ He grinned. ‘Particularly since you thrashed about so – behaviour which Mistress Alyx Fitzalan would never stoop, or rise, to … We must take some chance, Alyx. If, indeed, a figure were seen, I will plead guilty. It was, after all, my balloon … Come, I will lift you to the saddle.’ He managed to get her seated in reasonable comfort on the horse without too much exertion.

She looked down at him unhappily. ‘What will they do to you, my love?’

‘I do not know,’ he answered, affecting small concern. ‘Likely there will be some tedious penance. But, swear that whatever happens, you will admit no knowledge of this matter.’

‘Kieron, how can I so swear when I know not what they will do to you.’

‘Because I require it, for your sake, for mine, and for that of poor Aylwin who is now half out of his mind with fright.’

She sighed. ‘Then I so swear; but I am afraid.’

‘Smile, Alyx. That is how I would always remember you.’

‘Shall we meet again before – before I wed?’

‘Ludd knows. I do not … Alyx, it is within the month is it not?’

‘Seventeen days hence … I love you.’

‘I love you also. Go now, and let us each remember the other’s love with gladness.’

Sadly, Alyx turned her horse towards Arundel. Kieron watched her for a while, then returned to the mill. There were materials and tools to be put
away and the place made tidy. And there was much thinking to be done. Was it better to go to the castle and confess to the balloon, or was it better to let Seigneur Fitzalan’s men seek him out? It would not take them long. Such an adventure, everyone knew, could only be the work of Kieron-head-in-the-air. Therefore, better to make a virtue out of necessity and explain matters to Seigneur Fitzalan before the neddies intervened.

But Kieron was out of luck. The castle watchman was not the only man to use a spy-glass. Brother Sebastian possessed one, and frequently employed it from the cathedral tower to inform himself of the affairs of the world.

Kieron did not know how long he had been chained to the wall. He did not know whether it was night or day. He knew only that he was in a cell in the Luddite House of Correction and that his case might even merit the attention of the Inquisitor General. It was a long time, he had been told, since anyone had been charged with attempting to construct a flying machine. The matter, therefore, was of more than local interest.

On the day his hot-air balloon had lifted Mistress Alyx across the meadow and had then risen grandly only to descend in fiery fragments on the castle, Kieron had not managed to get as far as making his apologies and explanations to Seigneur Fitzalan. The neddies were waiting for him: Brother Sebastian and Brother Hildebrand and Brother Lemuel.

They charged him with heresy and arrested him in the name of the Divine Boy. He was marched ignominiously through Arundel at sword-point. And that was the last he saw of daylight.

Brothers Hildebrand and Lemuel would have been satisfied to frighten Kieron a little, considering his construction of the hot-air balloon to be hardly more than an ambitious prank. After all, the boy was almost a full year from his majority; and his transgression need not be regarded as a deliberate assault upon doctrine.

But Brother Sebastian was ambitious. It was his intention to rise high in the Luddite Church. And a man could not rise high unless he distinguished himself early. The way to advancement was by high connection – which Brother Sebastian did not possess – or by the revealing of significant heresy. Brother Sebastian prayed devoutly that Kieron would be revealed as a significant heretic.

True, Kieron was not yet a man. But heresy was no affliction of age. Brother Sebastian was aware that it was less than thirty years since a boy of thirteen had been burnt at the stake for harnessing the steam from a boiling kettle. The offence had been described by the Inquisitor General of the time as the attempted construction of a turbine, whatever that was.

Kieron’s offence was more easy to define. He had attempted to construct a machine that would lift a man – or a woman – from the face of the earth. If that was not an heretical act, then Brother Sebastian would eat his habit. Already he was beginning to feel secure in his attitude. The spy-glass had revealed that it was not Kieron dangling from the infernal machine, but a woman.

Shortly after this observation, Brother Sebastian had noticed Mistress Alyx returning to the castle on horseback, but in a somewhat distressed condition.

She asserted that she had been thrown. But everyone knew that it was most unlikely for Mistress Alyx to be thrown. Brother Sebastian pondered the problem. Recently, Kieron had spent much time at the castle, executing studies for Master Hobart’s brilliant painting of
Mistress Fitzalan’s Leap.
Kieron and Mistress Alyx were almost of an age. Where there is smoke, it is hardly reckless to assume the presence of a fire.

Brother Sebastian had the wit to realise that Alyx Fitzalan was beyond his reach. Holy Church was not yet ready to directly challenge the feudal power of the seigneurs. But Kieron alone should be sufficient for Brother Sebastian’s purpose. Having access to the castle and to the presence of Seigneur Fitzalan and Mistress Alyx, the boy could hardly be considered to be on the same level of insignificance as a common field labourer. Also, much could be made of his association with Mistress Alyx. Much could be made of it without much actually being said. Besides, if necessary, some importance could be attached to the matter of the book. At the very least, it was an effective means of silencing any protest from the Fitzalans.

After arresting Kieron, Brother Sebastian had speedily armed himself with a warrant for searching; and he had gone to Master Hobart’s house, there to terrorise the old man somewhat in the hope that he might betray himself as a partner to the heresy, and also to search Kieron’s chamber.

He succeeded in terrifying Master Hobart only into hysteria and a great fit of coughing. He did, however, find the book, hidden under Kieron’s mattress. That the book concerned the history of forbidden machines was significant, that it was hidden, though badly, was of even greater significance, and that its leather cover bore the imprint of the Fitzalan device was of the greatest significance of all.

Let the seigneur beware, thought Brother Sebastian comfortably. If he attempted to interfere with divine justice in any way, he might find that he was in danger of scorching his noble fingers.

Brother Sebastian was tasting the heady delights of power. He had written an account of the affair to the office of the Inquisitor General in London and confidently expected that he would receive authorisation to proceed with a full trial for heresy.

Meanwhile, he had Kieron chained to the wall in the House of Correction. He did not relish the boy’s discomfort. To do so would have been an unpardonable sin. Brother Sebastian convinced himself that he was concerned only with the salvation of Kieron’s spirit. If Kieron should burn for his transgression – which Ludd forbid, if at all possible – it were better that he burned in enlightenment, in a proper state of mind, knowing that his sin would be forgiven if he showed true penitence.

So Brother Sebastian held much converse with his prisoner, seeking to distinguish diabolical intent from youthful indiscretion. Kieron was not entirely helpful. At least, he was not helpful to himself, though perhaps he furthered Brother Sebastian’s unacknowledged aims.

‘Do you resent me, Kieron?’ Brother Sebastian asked the question while sitting on a stool, sipping from a glass of tea.

Kieron, who had survived on bread, offal and cold water for several days, still had his wits about him.

‘Why should I resent you, Brother Sebastian? You do your duty, and in that you have my respect, even my admiration.’

‘So. We understand each other. I do not wish to punish you. I wish to save you.’

‘This, I perceive. You act from the best intentions.’ Kieron smiled. ‘I would much prefer to be saved rather than punished.’

‘The hot-air balloon is a grievous sin. It is a machine, Kieron. A machine not authorised by Holy Church. You must see that it is the duty of the Church to protect the people from the wickedness and the temptation of machines. You know your history, boy. Machines have corrupted the world twice. They shall not do so a third time.’ Brother Sebastian sipped his tea noisily.

Kieron licked his lips. He could not remember when he had last tasted anything warm. ‘I was aware of no wickedness, Brother. The hot-air balloon was but a foolish toy which served to pass the time.’

‘So?’ Brother Sebastian looked at him coldly. ‘There is also the matter of the book. Who gave it to you, Kieron? The book about flying machines.’

This was the first time Brother Sebastian had mentioned the book. Kieron, tired, cold, depressed, was taken by surprise. His mouth fell open. He thought of Alyx. Even she might not be safe from this black crow.

‘You do not answer, Kieron. Do you wish to shield someone?’

‘I wish to shield no one but myself. I borrowed the book. I – I intended to return it’

‘Seigneur Fitzalan gave you leave to take the book from his library?’

‘No.’

‘Someone else, then?’

‘No.’

‘Yet you say you borrowed the book.’

‘Yes.’

‘Without the owner’s permission?’

‘I intended to return it.’

‘For that, I have only your word in these present sad circumstances. It is also possible to interpret such borrowing as stealing. A reasonable man might conclude that you had stolen the book with the intention of constructing one or more of the machines described therein.’

‘Ludd damn you!’ exploded Kieron. ‘Destroy learning, if you must. Destroy progress, if you must. Burn me, if you must. But do not sicken me with words.’

Brother Sebastian emptied his glass of tea and looked sad. ‘The damnation of Ludd is reserved only for those who construct machines with evil intent. Burn you may, Kieron. I will not deny the possibility. It would sadden me, but Ludd’s will be done. However, I am your friend, your brother, and I shall save your soul. And in that, there will be some consolation.’

Whereupon, Brother Sebastian left Kieron to his thoughts.

The Inquisitor General found that there was a charge to answer and authorised a trial for heresy. The trial would begin, as was customary, on the first day of the next lunar month. If a verdict of guilty were given, the sentence would be carried out on the last day of the same lunar month.

Meanwhile, the conditions under which Kieron was held improved. He was no longer chained to the wall of his cell. He was given a bed of straw, a table and a chair. He was allowed one hot meal a day, and he was further allowed to have visitors and to call upon witnesses who might testify to his character. Holy Church allowed these things so that none might complain of partiality or impediment. It was true that few were ever acquitted of the charge of heresy. Holy Church rarely held such a public trial unless the facts were incontrovertible. Nevertheless, justice must be seen to be done.

Kieron’s first visitors were his parents. Kristen came red-eyed with weeping. Gerard came full of hope, smelling of resin and wood shavings, convinced that too much had been made of a boyish prank.

‘Kieron, child, how do they feed you?’ sniffed Kristen. ‘Do they feed you well?’

Kieron noticed that her hair was fully white, though she could be barely thirty-five years old. Yet there was beauty in her face and dignity in her carriage. He was immensely sorry for the pain he had caused.

‘Yes, mother,’ he lied. ‘I eat excellently and want for nothing.’

‘You are an artist,’ exploded Gerard, ‘a great artist. Master Hobart himself has said so.’ He gazed at the straw bed and the bare walls of the cell. ‘How dare they keep a man with a golden future in this place? Are you guilty of the charge, boy? Speak plainly. We who begot you have a right to know.’

‘Sir,’ said Kieron carefully, knowing that Brother Sebastian had his ear to the cell door, ‘I constructed a toy for my amusement. A hot-air balloon. I did not know that Holy Church could be offended by so trivial a matter.’

Gerard stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘It was rash, boy. But it can hardly be sinful. The Church likes nothing new – quite rightly. The fault lies surely in those who have instructed you … I have heard that
Mistress Fitzalan’s Leap
is a masterpiece, though I know nought of such things. Master Hobart has said that it could not have been accomplished without you.’

‘Master Hobart is generous,’ said Kieron, ‘but there may be a grain of truth in his words.’

Gerard held him close. ‘Do not fear, boy. The charge will be dismissed, and those who brought it will suffer the consequences.’

‘I bear no animosity to anyone,’ said Kieron, chiefly for Brother Sebastian. ‘My hope is that Holy Church will establish my innocence and permit me to continue my appointed work.’

Gerard clapped his shoulder. ‘Well spoken! I knew! I knew! You are but a high-spirited lad, and it is all a great misunderstanding.’

But Kristen was wiser. She held Kieron close to her and stroked his hair. ‘Are you afraid, little one?’ she whispered.

‘Yes, mother, I am afraid.’

‘You know what they will do?’

‘Yes, mother. I know what they will do.’

‘Be at peace, Kieron. We will die together. And if there is another life, we will share it also.’

‘Hold, woman!’ stormed Gerard. ‘Kieron will live.’

Kristen stood back, having achieved a strange serenity. ‘Yes, Gerard, Kieron will live. Of that I am sure.’

‘By the Hammer of Ludd, and by my hammer also he will indeed live,’ swore Gerard. ‘He will live to bury those who would besmirch his name.’

The gaoler rapped on the door.

‘We will come again,’ said Kristen. ‘We will come tomorrow. I will bring scones and fresh butter and the blackberry preserve you like.’