“But Dom Peralt did not need a long look to see what the Templemen had done to her. Her hair was torn and ragged, leaving bloody patches upon her scalp and giving her a frenzied aspect. One eye was closed with swelling— the other, raw and aggrieved. Indeed, all her face had been beaten to a new shape. Dirt and hunger outlined the bruises. Her clothing had been torn in various places—
some of them indecent—and through the rents showed wounds and welts. Blood crusted her fetters. Plainly, her evil was stronger than her flesh, for how else was it possible for her to keep her feet—or to gaze upon the cauldron without terror?
“Yet she had given no other name to her questioners. The Templemen had not succeeded at wringing the answers they desired from her. As he looked at the place. where blood caked her clothing to her back, Dom Peralt began to smile—the same smile with which he had faced Growt’s bullying.
“At once, High Templeman Crossus Hught snapped, ‘You.’ His voice struck cauldron’s heat and the silence. All eyes sprang to him. With his long arm, he pointed his miter straight at Dom Peralt’s face. ‘Why do you smile?’
“‘That is Dom Sen Peralt,’ whispered Templeman Knarll to his temporal lord. ‘The same who bought and freed the witch.’
“The High Templeman ignored Templeman Knarll. He seemed to know by Divine inspiration whom he addressed. His miter did not waver. ‘Are you,’ he demanded, ‘amused by the plight of wickedness in the hands of the Temple of God?’
“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.
“‘To do so, we must acknowledge that pity and forgiveness are in God’s hands, not ours. They are too high for us. We cannot ask whether this crime or that may be let pass. On our souls, we cannot! We can only call evil by its true name and consign it to fire, as the will of Heaven demands.
“‘The name of the evil which we are called upon to judge this day is witchcraft, witchcraft! The woman Thamala is a witch, self-confessed and abominable, defiant of all things holy. And no ordinary witch! So cunning is her malice that she nearly dragged down an innocent young man with her.’ As I have said, the High Templeman put the best face possible upon his defeat. Thamala had risen again to her knees. New blood seeped from the wounds which Templeman Knarll bad opened on her back. But Crossus Hught had already dispensed with pity and forgiveness. ‘Men of the judica,’ he concluded, ‘the judgment is yours. What is your word?’
“For a moment, your fathers remained mute under the High Templeman’s gaze—not doubting what their word would be, of course, but wondering who would be the first to speak it. By virtue of his years and his great wealth, Dom Tahl often took precedence. But upon this occasion both Ser
Lew and Dom Franc had cause to stand forward, if for no other reason than simple gratitude that their sons had not been called to give evidence against Dom Peralt. Had I wished to call attention to myself, I might have spoken. Thamala’s guilt was certainly plain to me. It was awkward for Crossus Hught that no man sprang up at once to offer verdict.
“But the moment was short—too short to do more than gall the High Templeman. Then Dom Peralt stood slowly from his seat.
“‘High Templeman,’ he said, ‘no word is required here but mine. All have heard the witch’s confessions. But only I have experienced her seductions. Only I have felt her foul power. My judgment is sufficient to doom her.’ As he spoke, Thamala bowed her head, but gave no other sign that she heard him. ‘And I proclaim that she is the most evil of all witches, deserving of excruciation and death.’ His voice had the sound of a man who had been truly humbled.
“His gaze, however, did not waver from Crossus Hught’s hot glower. ‘High Templeman,’ he continued, ‘if you will permit it, I will give her to the cauldron myself. Her vileness has besmirched me, and I wish to aid in her punishment. By so doing, I hope to cleanse her touch from my soul.’
“At this, High Templeman Crossus Hught studied Dom Peralt narrowly. He did not know what to make of the young man’s offer. It has always been the Templemen themselves who cast witches to the cauldron. But almost at once he saw the benefit to himself. Thus far, the tale of this judica did not promise to augment his stature with good King Traktus. But if he could report that the honor of a reckless young Dom had been questioned by an overzealous subordinate—and that he, Crossus Hught, had determined the young man’s innocence during the judica—and that the young man had been allowed to deliver the witch to death himself, thereby restoring his good repute beyond all doubt—why, then the High Templeman would have no reason to fear that he might lose by the tale.
“But he was too wise to sanction such a breach of custom without encouragement. Holding Dom Permit’s gaze, he asked softly, ‘Men of the judica, what say you to this?’
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