Cloud Walker, All Fools' Day, Far Sunset

by Cooper, Edmund

  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.

  16

  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 cha
racter. 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.’

  When they had gone, Brother Sebastian entered the cell. ‘Your father has a strong voice,’ he said carefully.

  Kieron smiled faintly. ‘A strong mind and a strong right arm also. He is a good and simple man.’

  ‘Yet he utters dangerous words.’

  ‘My father is an honest man, as all in the seigneurie know,’ retorted Kieron calmly. ‘He deceives no one, commits no sins. His honesty is his armour.’

  ‘What do you mean by that, boy?’

  ‘Only, Brother Sebastian, that you have one bird in your trap. You will not snare another from the same nest.’

  Petrina came to visit him also, accompanied by her father, which was proper.

  Sholto, a huge man of few words and great good will, was tongue-tied. Petrina, buxom and ripe for the marriage that would only have been months away, did most of the talking.

  ‘Kieron, you look dreadful pale. Do you have enough to eat?’

  He smiled. ‘Truly, women are alike. My mother’s first thought was for my stomach.’

  ‘There are certain differences,’ flashed Petrina, ‘which presently you will perceive.’

  ‘I am sorry. I did not mean to rebuke you.’ Kieron turned to the smith. ‘Sholto, it was kind of you to come, and to bring Petrina. I am grateful. Neither I nor my father will be offended if you now wish to dissolve the contract.’

  Sholto shuffled his feet awkwardly, and looked at the floor, at the walls, at the ceiling, as if seeking divine guidance. None came.

  ‘Kieron, boy, I like you well. This is a sorry matter which, in truth, I do not understand. I understand how to work iron and steel, but not much else. Solvig, my wife, deals with other affairs.’ He cast an anxious glance at his daughter. ‘And now, alas, so does Petrina. At the forge, I am master.’ He shrugged. ‘But with women, who can argue?’

  ‘Dissolve the contract!’ exploded Petrina, tossing back her hair, thrusting out her firm breasts. ‘Do you wish to dissolve the contract, Kieron-head-in-the-air?’

  Kieron was baffled. The child he had known was now demonstrably a woman. He had assumed she would wish to be quit of a heretic, who would likely burn. But one should never assume with a woman.

  ‘I did but think to save you some unpleasantness.’

  ‘You think but little,’ snapped Petrina. ‘Otherwise, you would not have thought to construct stupid kites and hot-air balloons. And you would not have thought to embroil yourself with the Fitzalans.’

  ‘Petrina, speak carefully,’ said Kieron, mindful of Brother Sebastian’s ear at the door. ‘These walls are thin. Voices carry.’

  ‘Poof!’ said Petrina. ‘So voices carry. Everyone knows that Alyx Fitzalan is besotted with you.’ She gave a faint smile. ‘Even Brother Sebastian has ears.’

  ‘Brother Sebastian has excellent hearing,’ confirmed Kieron. ‘Even in this cell, I suspect, our conversation does not pass unheard.’

  ‘No matter,’ said Petrina calmly. ‘There is nothing to be hid. Do you wish to be released from the contract?’

  ‘No, by Ned Ludd. I would wed with you, Petrina. In happier circumstances, I would wed with you joyously.’

  Petrina smiled. ‘Then there is no problem, Kieron. I would wed with you. So be it.’

  ‘You are still convinced that the astrologer Marcus foretold truly?’

  ‘Yes, I am convinced. Besides, Kieron, whatever else Holy Church may do, it acknowledges the validity of contracts. This I have discovered, at some effort.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, Kieron, if we are both willing, the Inquisitor General may be petitioned to suspend punishment until I am with child – or until it is seen that I cannot conceive.’

  Kieron was dumbfounded. ‘You would do this for me?’

  ‘You are my contracted husband. Could I do less?’

  Kieron laughed. ‘The astrologer Marcus may yet win the day.’

  ‘Do not mock men of science.’

  ‘But how do you know this – about punishment being suspended?’

  ‘It does not matter how I know. Also the thing is not certain. Much depends upon the pleasure of the Inquisitor General. I know only that it has happened before.’ She smiled grimly. ‘Holy Church even has power to advance the contracted day of marriage so that the day of punishment shall not be over-delayed.’

  ‘How, then?’ Kieron was perplexed. ‘I would be allowed my freedom until I had got you with child?’

  ‘No, stupid. I would be allowed to share your cell. There are limits to benevolence.’

  ‘You would wed with a heretic and live in a prison? You would be branded for ever.’

  ‘I would also be widowed for ever. But that is my choice, Kieron. Do you complain of it?’

  ‘No, I – that is, Petrina, my dear, it is too much to ask of you.’

  ‘So. No one has a
sked it. Let your conscience rest easy.’

  Shoko rubbed his hands nervously. ‘Argue not with a female, Kieron. You will have the worst of it.’

  ‘Do you still wish your daughter to wed with me?’

  Sholto scratched his head. ‘A contract is a contract, for good or ill.’ He glanced at his daughter. ‘What a woman wants, that she will get, as I know to my cost.’

  Petrina said: ‘Let us not waste time. It is settled. That is all there is to it … Kieron, many will speak for you; and it will carry weight that I am still willing to wed with you.’ She moved close to him and whispered: ‘Can you feign madness?’

  He looked at her, aghast. ‘Can I—’ She placed a hand over his mouth. ‘I am told,’ she whispered, ‘that a plea of temporary madness might be acceptable to Holy Church – particularly if there were those who testified to such fits.’

  ‘You are well informed,’ said Kieron softly. ‘You are well informed about many things. Who has spoken to you, Petrina?’

  She put her mouth to his ear. ‘A lady came riding. Need I say more?’

  Alyx! Alyx Fitzalan cared about him enough to persuade Petrina. His head was in a whirl.

  The gaoler knocked on the door.

  ‘We will come again, Kieron,’ said Petrina. ‘I am sure my father will wish to escort me here tomorrow. I will bring a bacon and egg pie, hot from the oven, and I will watch you eat it.’

  ‘Petrina, I would kiss you.’ Kieron glanced hesitantly at Sholto.

  The smith laughed. ‘Kiss her, then, boy. Kiss her well. It is the only way you will ever beat a woman.’

  Somewhat later on the same day, Hobart came, a shawl round his shoulders, racked by coughing, clutching a flask of spirit.

  ‘Kieron, my dear son, how do they treat you?’

  ‘Well enough, Master Hobart. I am alive and healthy, as you see.’

  ‘You are thinner. You are pale.’

  ‘I do not crave for weight. My only lack is sunlight.’

  ‘You shall have it, my dear son, you shall have it. I have signed a statement and had it witnessed that it was upon my insistence that you constructed the hot-air balloon. I required its construction for a painting, and that is the truth. I required to have a sketch of the castle from the air.’