The Knowledge Stone

by Jack McGinnigle

  ‘Were his words rude? Coarse? Insolent? Were you offended by them?’

  ‘Father, I cannot remember!’ This accompanied by sobs.

  After reflection, the man said slowly: ‘It seems to me, Kati, that a harmless unremembered comment from a young stable boy is not a matter that should evoke anger on your part. It is our duty as an important family in this region to treat our servants fairly and with kindness. Furthermore, I cannot understand why you should have associated this harmless minor misdemeanour with an attack of the worst kind on your person, unless, somehow, the two are linked in your mind … or even in actuality.’ The last four words were spoken almost inaudibly, almost as an introspective afterthought.

  As he was saying this, the man remembered that the stable boy had vehemently denied his daughter’s allegation and this had been confirmed by the older stable hand. In fact both had protested that the stable boy had not been involved with his daughter but had dealt with the terrified, plunging horse. Also, he had heard that the boy had not signed a confession of guilt until he had been a prisoner at the Jail for many hours. What was it the Court Jailor had said? Ah, yes, his jailers use “sophisticated techniques” to obtain the truth. An unpalatable suspicion was forming in his mind. The Master now looked coldly at his daughter: ‘I am puzzled and disquieted by what you have just said to me. But I will leave that aside for the moment. Meanwhile, you may not go to the Court on Friday of next week. Do you hear this?’

  ‘But, Father, please, I …’

  The man was angered and spoke sharply: ‘Do you not hear that your father is speaking? You will not go to the Court. Now leave me.’

  That same day, a personal letter was delivered to the Head Stableman. It had been written by the First Jailer. Going to the privacy of his rooms, the Head Stableman opened the letter and read:

  “To the Head Stableman at the Manor House,

  Sir, I trust you will recall our meeting of three weeks ago on the subject of a coming case at the Town Court. I have now been instructed that the stable boy’s case will be heard next week on Friday at 10 hours in the morning. I believe your Master will already have been informed. At the Town Jail, we have been looking after the boy, feeding him well and keeping him clean and healthy so that he will be of good appearance at the Court.

  Of course you will know that the outcome of the case will certainly be a “guilty” verdict, for the boy has given us a written confession of his crime. However, I remain hopeful that you may speak up for the boy so that he has a chance of reduced punishment. I can only repeat that my assistant and I are convinced of this boy’s innocence.

  Finally, Sir, I plead with you to destroy this letter since its contents are such that my assistant and I would not survive its disclosure.

  May God bless your heart as you do His work.”

  The letter was signed with the names of the two jailers.

  The man read the letter carefully several times and sat thinking for a while. Then he rose and burnt it in a metal dish, reducing it to ashes.

  Later that day, the Head Stableman requested to speak to the Master privately and was instructed to present himself at the end of the working day.

  ‘Master, I come to seek your permission to attend the stable boy’s case at the Town Court next week on Friday at 10 hours in the morning.’

  ‘Tell me, why do you wish to attend?’

  ‘This boy was always decent, honest and hardworking when he worked in your employ. I know this to be true and I had high hopes for his future. I am sorry that he appears to have committed a crime here at the Manor and there seems to be no doubt he will pay dearly for that crime. I would like to attend the Court to speak up for the boy’s character. Of course I will do this only if I have your permission to speak.’

  The Master’s highly disturbing conversation with his daughter was still very much in his mind. Now, another strand of this puzzling case was being added by his Head Stableman, an employee whose judgement he respected greatly.

  ‘You must give me a moment to think.’ The Master was silent for some moments. At last, he raised his head and looked directly at the Head Stableman. ‘You have my permission to speak up for the boy,’ he said, ‘furthermore, if I am asked to state whether I have any objections to what you have said, I will say that I have none.’

  The Head Stableman was taken aback. This support was more than he ever expected!

  ‘Thank you, Master,’ he said. ‘May God bless you.’

  Kati was beside herself with rage! For months she had been looking forward to the stable boy’s time in the Court and had given many hours of thought to what she would say in evidence – and, indeed, the exact way in which she would say it. She must be very precise about this, to make sure that this very insolent stable boy received the worst punishment for this terrible crime against her. This was what Kati kept reminding herself.

  She had spent many hours thinking about all the various punishments for the stable boy and had decided on her favourites: ‘I don’t want him to be put to death, not because he doesn’t deserve it but because that would end his suffering. No, I want whipping and beating, all in public where everyone can see it – especially where I can see it! I want him sent to the worst jail in the world where he will be beaten constantly, starved and worked to exhaustion.’ Now she was to be denied the first part of her pleasure – attending the Court and giving damning evidence against him!

  In her fury, her mind turned to her brother, who now spent even more of his time in his room, lovingly watching and manipulating his precious astrarium or intensely reading more and more books about the many subjects which interested him.

  ‘It’s time I gave that pathetic little boy a shock,’ Kati thought. Although as she said the word “little” she acknowledged that her brother had grown almost as tall as her. ‘I know he expects me to break his new clock or whatever it is and yes, I will do that – but not yet. For now, I think he just needs to be reminded who is in charge. Maybe he thinks that ten-year-old boys are too old to cry!’ Kati smiled cruelly, felt very much better and began to plan what she would do.

  Two days later, the weather was notably cold, wet and stormy and there was little activity in the Manor House. Kati’s brother was sitting at his favourite table reading; nearby, his beloved astrarium whirred and ticked. Suddenly the boy became aware of another presence in the room. Looking around, he found that Kati had entered the room silently and was standing several metres away from him, completely still.

  In her hand, she held a long sharp knife: ‘Little brother, I have come to cut you in a place on your body which will hurt you very much.’ This was said in a low, menacing tone. She had used this technique many times before and knew this would send the boy into a state of hysterical fear, begging for mercy. In this state, she knew she could do anything she wanted to him. She would then amuse herself by hurting him, rather in the same way she did when he was very young and could not resist. As she slapped, pricked or twisted his flesh without mercy, she would say: ‘If you make a noise, I will hurt you even more.’ At this, the boy’s cries would die down to a whimper.

  Afterwards, with her brother totally cowed, weeping with pain and nursing his injuries, she would stampede around his room, destroying his most favourite possessions, warning him to tell no-one about the destruction. On this occasion, she continued to set out her intentions: ‘After I have you crying like a little baby, I’m going to take all your lovely new books and throw them out the window into the storm so that they will be ruined and destroyed forever.’

  She was surprised when her brother did not move or make a sound. Instead, his eyes locked on to hers and she felt a bewildering sensation of fear coursing through her. Then her brother spoke, still the immature voice of a young boy of just ten years old but now somehow infused with a new lower tone, calm, unafraid and in control. ‘Put the knife away, Kati. Do
n’t be so stupid.’

  Stupid? Her fury rose to choke her and she darted forward, the knife arcing down to slash across his upper leg. A piercing scream. The crack of joints twisted beyond their limit. An unbearable pain in her hand and arm. The knife quivering in the floorboards. Her brother re-seated, completely still but watching her narrowly. ‘I said, “Don’t be stupid”,’ he repeated.

  Kati screamed like a banshee and lunged for the knife. His powerful sideways thrust against her body knocked her off her feet and sent her tumbling helplessly across the polished floor for several metres: ‘Are you deaf, Kati? I said, “Don’t be stupid”.’

  Unhurriedly, the boy pulled the knife from the floorboards and put it in a drawer in the table. Then, striding across to his sister, he pulled her to her feet and pushed her towards the door. ‘Get out!’

  ‘He can’t speak to me like that!’ Her rage rekindled, Kati turned and drew back her fist to strike him as hard as she could in the face. (She would aim for his eye in the hope this would blind him.) He did not move but fixed his eyes upon hers – now she recognised a spark of anger within. The utter stillness of the scene was punctuated only by the ticking of the astrarium.

  Moments passing, Kati’s world contracting; his eyes seeming to fill her whole being … A howl accompanied by flood of tears as her hand fell limply by her side.

  The boy spoke just once more: ‘Get out!’ The words quiet but uttered with great force.

  Without conscious movement, Kati found herself outside the door, her mind in a whirl: ‘What’s happened? How can he have changed so much?’

  The progress of days cannot be stopped. The sun had risen and set the required number of times and it was now the day of the stable boy’s trial at the Court. A very early morning call had awakened the boy. He had already washed himself thoroughly and put on fresh, neat clothes. As he sat with the two jailers, sharing their food, they tried to tell him what to expect at the Court: ‘Listen, boy, you will stand in the accused enclosure which is opposite the Judge’s bench – it’s set very high in the Court – you can’t miss it. All the lawyers, notaries and court officers will be in the centre of the Court below you. One lawyer will accuse you of the crime and another lawyer will defend you. If anyone else speaks they will speak from an enclosure at the side of the Court. When all has been said, the Judge will pronounce the sentence. That is when you will learn what your punishment is to be. Do you understand all this?’

  ‘Yes, Sir. It is good to hear that a skilled lawyer will defend me.’

  The men looked at each other and shook their heads: ‘Listen again, boy, you must understand. You have confessed to the crime – you know that, don’t you – so there is no doubt that you will be convicted, that is, found guilty. What you must do this morning is make the best possible impression on the Town Judge, so that your punishment will be made as little as possible. Here is our best advice for you. You must stand up straight. Listen carefully and, if you are asked a question, speak clearly. Say as little as possible. Look directly at the Judge but do not be bold. Try to look innocent!’

  ‘Yes Sir, I am innocent – but I will not say that …’ the boy added with a slight smile as the jailers threw up their hands. ‘May I now ask you a question?’

  ‘You may.’

  ‘Will Miss Kati attend the Court?’

  ‘Boy, we do not know but, if she does, I do not think she will be called to speak.’

  ‘Why not?’ The boy was puzzled. ‘She was the victim of the crime.’

  ‘Boy, I say again, you have confessed, the matter of evidence is not required.’

  ‘Will the Master be there?’

  ‘Yes, I believe he will be.’ The man hesitated, ‘and it is possible that some others from the Manor House may also be present. If they are, they will be in the Citizens’ Enclosure at the back of the room.’

  After a short silence, the boy asked in a small voice: ‘What is likely to happen to me?’

  ‘You must expect punishment,’ the First Jailer answered quietly, ‘maybe prison with hard labour; perhaps whipping or time in the stocks. We do not know.’

  The boy was silent, his face reflecting his terror, his eyes filled with tears. Then the rumble of the Court Jailer’s wagon was imposed upon this scene from outside.

  ‘Good luck, boy,’ the jailers said, averting their eyes to hide their own tears.

  The stable boy felt very nervous as he looked around the Court. It was a very large room and there were already many people assembled there, sitting at tables below him, talking loudly to each other and waving pieces of paper. No-one took any notice of the boy standing in the Accused Enclosure, his guard (the Court Jailer’s assistant) standing behind him. Straight in front of him on the other side of the room was a very large panelled desk of dark wood; at present, no-one sat there.

  On each side of the room, there were other enclosures with seats within them. In one of these areas, he recognised the Master, sitting with two other men who were busy writing. Behind the boy, there was a large enclosure which was rapidly filling up with ordinary townspeople, sitting on low benches. It was all very strange and frightening; he was glad the jailers had told him a little of what to expect. He looked down at the lawyers below and wondered which of them would defend him. He hoped that a good defence would be spoken.

  The boy started violently as someone made a very loud noise by bringing a large wooden hammer down on the top of a table.

  ‘The Learned Judge enters,’ a very loud voice shouted. Everyone became quiet and rose to their feet. A small elderly man dressed in a long red robe and wearing a large complex head covering entered from a door behind the large desk. This man swept his eyes around the Court but did not even glance at the boy standing in the Accused Enclosure. When he had finished his inspection, he sat down in a large carved chair and began to read some papers. The hammer was brought down on the desk again with a deafening sound.

  The loud voice shouted: ‘The Town Court meets. All may sit.’

  Silence, apart from the sound of fidgeting and coughing. Finally the Judge spoke without looking up from his papers: ‘Is the boy in Court?’

  ‘Yes, Learned Judge.’

  ‘Who is accusing?’

  ‘I am, Learned Judge.’

  A tall impressive man in a black robe rose from the centre of the Court and spoke these words.

  ‘Proceed.’

  ‘Learned Judge, it is the Master of the Manor House who brings this case.’ The Judge gave a nod of recognition towards the Master and the Master reciprocated. The lawyer continued: ‘This is a very simple case. The accused worked as a stable boy at the Manor House. The daughter of the Master had been out riding and, on her return, the horse threw her from the saddle in the stable yard. Because of this fall, her clothes were in disarray and the stable boy took the opportunity to place his hand on the lower part of her female body, touching her bare flesh. The boy has confessed to this crime and you have his confession with his mark upon it. The boy is guilty without doubt.’ The tall man sat down to complete silence.

  ‘Who speaks in defence?’

  A very young man, also dressed in black, rose nervously to his feet: ‘I do, Learned Judge.’ The stable boy gripped the front of his enclosure tightly.

  ‘Proceed.’

  ‘Learned Judge, the defence has nothing to say.’

  A gasp followed by a hubbub of noise filled the Court. The boy went white with shock, his heart pounding in his chest.

  ‘Quiet!’ The loud shout was accompanied by deafening hammering. Order in the court was slowly restored. When all was quiet, the Judge said: ‘I find the boy guilty of the charge. I will apply a severe punishment …’

  As the Judge spoke, another voice was heard, emanating from the back of the room: ‘Learned Judge, I would ask to speak on this case.’
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br />   The Judge looked up in annoyance: ‘Who it is who speaks?’

  ‘I am the Head Stableman at the Manor House. The stable boy worked for me. I wish to speak about his character.’

  ‘What difference will that make?’ The Judge was testy. ‘The boy is guilty and I am deciding on his punishment …’ As the judge was speaking, a considerable commotion was building up in the Court.

  There were many voices from the Citizens’ Enclosure shouting: ‘Let him speak! Let him speak!’

  The Judge assessed the situation. He could clear the Court but that would take a considerable time and he wanted to get through his case load quickly so that he could spend the afternoon in comfortable relaxation.

  ‘Very well,’ he said with bad grace, ‘come forward and enter the Witness Enclosure.’

  The boy was astounded when the Head Stableman came forward. ‘Why should such an important man bother about me, a mere stable boy and now a criminal?’ He looked fearfully at the Master to see whether this intervention had angered him. The Master sat impassively and the boy could not see whether he was annoyed or not.

  The Head Stableman entered the Witness Enclosure and swore to be truthful in the formal words of the Court: ‘God will see that I tell the truth.’

  The Judge leaned forward angrily: ‘What do you have to say? Be quick!’

  ‘Learned Judge, I have known this boy for many years and he was a good worker at the stables. He had developed well and I believe that, in time, he may have progressed to a more senior position at the stables. He was always polite to everyone and especially to the Master and the members of his family. I have observed this myself many times. Therefore, Learned Judge, I ask you most humbly to take into consideration his very good character when you decide upon his punishment. As you know, he has already spent many months in the Town Jail.’