The Ultimate Stonemage: A Modest Autobiography (44 page)

Well, the bishop took my challenge to heart, and he gave many reasons why what I said was not so. He talked on and on for so long that I thought I would die of boredom. Yet my polite yawns and drooping eyes did nothing to bring his speech to a quick end, for he was a very rude fellow, and, seeing he had an captive audience, was determined to have the final say upon this matter, which, after all, had little to do with the case at hand.

Unfortunately, the bishop took so long about it that he exhausted all the time that had been apportioned for Broth, and so that part of the trial was completely wasted.

I found out afterwards that Agrator had long hoped for an archbishopric himself, but he had been overlooked for the position many times, despite the fact he had served twenty-five long years as a bishop. This, of course, was why Isenna had raised the matter: he knew it would make the bishop brood resentfully over my archbishop title from the very start of the trial, and the case would be biased against me, which it was.

We then began
Lentils, which was conducted while each of us sat facing our own little mound of lentils. I cannot bear lentils in any form, so I did not touch them. However, I noticed that Isenna was eating his greedily, so I spoke in a loud voice to one of the priests standing around, saying, “I do not think I should eat this while there are poor people who have nothing to eat. Please, take these lentils and give them to a beggar.”

Agrator was still angry at me, though, and instead of saying, “What a charitable action! Here is a truly good man,” he said “What, you do not like your lentils?” which made me cross.

Since I had, technically, been the first to speak at Broth, it was now Isenna’s turn. At Lentils, each party must show how the resolution of the case in their favour will augment and magnify the glory of God.

Isenna said the queen’s position in the kingdom was like God’s position in Heaven. He said, “This proves God must love our queen, for, although all of us are made in His image, God has also made our queen like Him in rank, although her post is of finite, rather than infinite scope.”

Then he told a little story. He said, “A drunken merchant, fat and wealthy, came into this very cathedral here at
Meadric many years ago. He had a purse full of gold coins, and he tossed one these coins upon the altar, saying, ‘There is my offering to God, for He made me rich.’ Later, when the wine was worn off, the merchant came back to the cathedral and said, ‘Where is my gold coin?’ A priest told him, ‘It was accepted as an offering and has gone to pay for a fine jewel for the bishop. It cannot be returned.’ Then the merchant pulled out a club and beat the priest to death.”

Isenna turned to me then and said, “Did the merchant do right?”

Well, I was outraged to hear the facts of this story. I said, “No! That merchant should have been knifed for his crime, or smashed open with his own club.”

He said, “Yes, for the merchant had made his gift to God and, once made, it should not have been retracted. In the same way, Yreth, your gift to the queen must also remain where it is.”

You can see from this what a crafty speaker Isenna was. However, I am a good speaker myself, and I knew how to deal with these charges.

I said, “I heard recently of a priest who had gone begging. He collected a good sum of gold, then made his way to his home town to place the donation in the church. On his way, though, he was ambushed by thieves. They stole his money from him. He said, ‘Do not take that money, for it is God’s.’ But they replied, ‘It is ours now.’ Then they killed the priest. Tell me, Isenna, were the thieves right or wrong.”’

He said, “Wrong, of course, for the money had been given, as a gift, to the monarch of heaven, and, as I have said, such gifts should not be taken from that monarch, or from any monarch.”

“Yes,” I said, “and I too would very likely have given my gold to God, or at least a portion of it, but now I cannot, for it all lies in the queen’s treasury. Answer me this, Isenna: What is more important—a gift for God or a gift for a
queen?”

I hoped he would say “A gift for God,” for this would mean I should get my money back, so I could donate some of it to the church.

But instead, he said, “In making a gift to the queen, we also flatter God, for the queen serves God, just as the nobles serve the queen, and we serve the nobles. This is the proper order of things.”

I said, “Yes, but whom do you serve foremost—the queen or God?”

Then the sly fox said, “Whom do you most aim to please, the
Duke of Oaster, or your queen?”

I knew if I said, “My queen,” then he would say I should please her by letting her keep my gold, whereas if I said “My duke,” then I would support his argument about the proper order of things. So I said, “I aim to please neither, for I serve only God.”

He said, “I fear that answer smacks of treason, which is a thing that pleases neither the queen nor God.”

And Isenna had no sooner spoken those words than Agrator declared Lentils to be at an end, for he had just finished his plate and was hungry for cheese.

Cheese was next, then, and plates of soft cheese were placed before each of us. It was a good cheese, made from goat’s milk, or possibly from sheep’s milk.

During Cheese, it is the judge who asks the questions, clarifying the various points which have been established in the case so far. As I have said, though, he was very biased in his approach, and he asked me only two questions, about my birthplace and my profession, before turning his attention to Isenna.

Isenna then told all manner of lies about me, and the judge asked for details, which Isenna dutifully invented. According to the rules of Cheese, I was not permitted to speak unless the judge first spoke to me, so you can imagine how infuriating the whole thing was. Still, I soon realized that, although I was prohibited from speaking, there was no reason I could not laugh, and so, whenever Isenna told one of his lies, I gave a laugh—either a gentle snort, or a chuckle, or a loud roar of mirth, depending upon the extremity of the lie. This did a fine job of distracting Isenna.

Agrator glared at me several times, but I merely shrugged and pointed to my lips, to remind him I was not speaking. And of course he could not criticize me for what I was doing, for he would have to speak to me to do so, and then I could respond to Isenna’s outrageous falsehoods.

We then moved into
First Figs. This is a short break, where those in the courtroom may wander around, talk to others at their pleasure, and eat from the trays of figs and other fruit which are placed upon the table. I talked at length with a very pretty young priest who was impressed by my keen wit. She said, “You may have set off on the wrong foot, but I think you will yet take the day.”

I said, “When my foot offends me in that way, I simply pluck it out.” Then I pulled off my
golden leg, which amused her very much indeed.

When First Figs was done with, we began
Fish. This is the most important part of the trial, for it is the time both parties may bring in the witnesses who will support their claims.

Isenna went first, and he brought in six of the military men I talked about earlier, the young courtiers. As I have said, they were envious of all my skills, and so they said many wicked things about me. I will not repeat their words here, for it was all lies and you do not want to hear it.

It was then my turn, and I called upon my two hundred witnesses, one or two at a time.

They did very well at their appointed task, coming forward, one after another, and saying, “Yreth is an honest man,” and “There never was such an honest man as Yreth,” and “I declare that Yreth is the most honest man in all the world,” and “Yreth’s honesty is so great that I weep to think of it.”

I had given a few of them additional things to say. My sister
Wegnir said, “Thank you, Yreth, for all you have done in spreading the word of God around the world.”

And my brother
Hendrick held up a robe and said, “I have brought your second cloak, Yreth, in case you are cold on the long walk home.”

To which I replied, “I have a cloak already. Give it instead to someone who has no cloak at all. Perhaps to an old blind priest.”

In this way, I showed Agrator my virtue and my reputation for honesty, so he would know my claims were all true, and the words of Isenna and his commanders were lies of the basest sort.

That was
Fish, anyway. And, in case you are wondering, the fish served was perch, covered in a sauce made from olives and onions. It was very good.

It was now early evening, and time for
Flesh, where each side may speak at length upon the case.

I spoke first, saying, “It pains me exceedingly to have to bring such a case as this against the queen, even though she is a vulgar sort of queen who was once a hunter then married
Bellay and murdered him and now lives her life ruled by lustful passions.”

You will see how I incorporated, as part of my address at Flesh, many of the points I had intended to make in
Broth.

Then I said, “This matter may be divided into two important questions. The first of these is: ‘Does the queen owe me a large sum of money?’ The second is: ‘How much does she owe me?’ I will deal with these questions in the precise order I have asked them.”

Then I repeated the first question, for those who may not have heard it properly. I said, “Does the queen owe me a large sum of money? My friends, the answer to that question is yes. I assure you, upon my honour, and upon my dead father’s honour, and upon the holy name of the one true God, that the queen does owe me a large sum of money. As proof of this, I offer nothing more nor less than my own statement of the fact, supported as it is by the testimony of two hundred witnesses, people who know me well, and have confirmed that I am exceedingly honest.”

Then Isenna said, “Yes, but we have also heard from my witnesses, fine commanders all, who claimed you are a liar and a rogue.”

I replied, “Yes, we heard from six of your witnesses. But what are the opinions of six compared to the opinions of two hundred? Especially when these two hundred know me well, while your six barely know me at all.”

I saw Isenna cringe then, for he had not thought of that, and all the other priests there murmured to themselves saying, “Yes, this is the argument of an godly man, for, like Christ before Pharaoh, he offers no papers or documents as his evidence, but simply his own honest words.”

I said, “We come then to the second question. How much does the queen owe me. We can divide the sum into four parts. In the first place there is the money and the treasure which I placed into her treasury, under the care of the
Earl of Tarphonay. I estimate the value of this gold and treasure at a little over five million arrans.

“In the second place, there is the interest which is payable to me over the time the money was unavailable to me, which comes, at a rate of one-fifth per year, to another five million arrans.

“Thirdly, there is the money which the queen agreed to pay me for my twelve myrmidons. This comes to five hundred arrans per myrmidon, for a total of sixty thousand arrans.

“Fourthly, there is the reward the queen said she would pay me for my heroic actions in saving
Cyprus. She gave me the post of Queen’s Own Builder for this service, but since she saw fit to take the post away again, I will insist upon a golden payment instead. I have calculated a fair reward, in line with the sums the other commanders were paid for their victories, and it comes to seventeen million arrans or so.

Then I said, “As must surely be clear, each of these sums lends weight and validity to all the others. My claim is thus self-reinforcing in each of its parts, and quadruply so in its total, which, having being calculated for me by an excellent priest and mathematician, exactly matches the amount of my claim—specifically 27,882,000 arrans.”

Then Isenna rose. While he spoke, I turned my attention to the meat before me, which was goat and ham, cut into delicate slices.

Isenna said, “I will not speak further on the subject of Yreth’s honesty. Enough has been said about that.” I was pleased at this, for I sensed he was half beaten, and I waved a piece of ham in his direction to annoy him. Then he said, “I will turn instead to his extravagant claim for compensation.” He then launched into an speech which was remarkable for its blatant fraudulence. It was such a foolish and desperate argument that, for most of the time he spoke, I did not even bother to dispute him, but merely ate my meat, shaking my head at his sorry efforts.

He said, “In the first place, the gold which was placed into the queen’s treasury had been earned overseas, in
America, and once brought into Cyprus, it was subject to a great many tariffs and fines. His failure to pay these fines promptly rendered the sum subject to confiscation.”

He then brought out various documents showing the
Laws of Tariff, and letters, and all manner of tiresome things, thereby wasting a good deal of time.

He said, “Moreover, most of the gold within this hoard was in the form of American arrans, a currency which is not recognized here as having any legitimate value at all.”

As evidence of this claim, he brought out more ancient papers and passed them around. I did not lower myself by looking at them.

“Thirdly,” he said, “in transporting gold to Cyprus, Yreth passed through enemy waters without sinking enemy ships, rendering him subject to still further penalties. I could list other infractions too, but I am sure I do not need to, for it must certainly be clear that, whatever sum was initially placed within the treasury, it was subject to so many fines, taxes, penalties and tariffs that its value is reduced to nought.

“It follows that the interest owed to Yreth must also be of no worth, for one cannot earn interest on nothing.”

I said, “Your tedious arguments have not dealt with the matter of my myrmidons.”

He said, “Under the law, the possession of myrmidons by anyone other than a noble is a grave crime. In promising you such a generous sum for the myrmidons, the queen was simply trying to offset the fines which you surely owed for your offences. Her calculations were precise, and you will be pleased to hear that the sum you must pay for possessing the myrmidons is exactly negated by the amount the queen owes you for buying them. This matter, then, is settled equitably.”