<h2 id="c19"><span class="h2line1">18</span> <br/><span class="h2line2">DECIDE FOR LIFE</span></h2>
<p>It was like no court Rodvard had ever seen. Behind a simple
table sat two of the men in grey, their features calm and strangely
like each other. At the end, one with an inkpot and sheets of
paper before him wrote down Rodvard’s name as it was given.
The guards at either side carried no weapons but short truncheons
and daggers at the belt. The burly mate was already in one
chair, looking truculent, with a pair of Kjermanash sailors beside
him, one of them a fat-faced lad, unhealthy of appearance. A man
of negligent air, richly dressed, occupied the end of the table
opposite from the writer. There were no other spectators and the
proceeding began without ceremony when one of the Initiates
asked simply what was charged against Ser Bergelin.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_354">354</div>
<p>“Mutiny,” said the mate. “I gave the rat a task to do, which
he flatly refused.”</p>
<p>The well-dressed man said; “It is Dossolan law that cases of
mutiny at sea be tried by the captain of the ship, who bears
judicial powers for this purpose; else mutiny would spread through
a ship. I would have your writer here record that I make formal
demand for the body of this criminal, in accordance with the treaty
of amity and respect between your nation and the Queen, my
mistress.”</p>
<p>One of the grey men said calmly; “Be it recorded. Record also
that the treaty declares none shall be delivered before the adjudgment
of guilt, for though we be all criminous, it is not love’s desire
that men shall exploit each other for anything but sins determined
as such by the word of human law.”</p>
<p>(The well-dressed man’s eyes said utter disgust.) His lips said;
“How can there be an adjudgment before trial? It is to try him
that we demand him.”</p>
<p>The second Initiate spoke. “This young man has placed himself
in the protection of the domain of Mancherei. Before he is delivered
for trial there is required proof of a wrong-doing that would merit
sentence. Is there such proof?”</p>
<p>“Why, damme, yes!” said the mate. “I saw the fellow do it; I
heard him refuse my order. Here are two of my crew to say as
much.” He swept a hand toward the Kjermanash, who began to
cackle at once, but the first Initiate merely nodded to the writer,
who laid the pen down and clicked at the pair in their own tongue.
When they had answered, he said; “They declare it is true that
Ser—” he consulted his sheet “—Bergelin was ordered to repair a
mast, and he refused.”</p>
<p>The Initiate looked at Rodvard (and not a thing could he read
behind those cold eyes, though they seemed to pierce him through),
saying, “The evidence is sufficient for a trial unless you can contradict
it.”</p>
<p>Said Rodvard; “I could not make the repair. I did not know
how.”</p>
<p>The Initiate; “That is a question for the trial to determine; no
reason for not hearing the case.”</p>
<p>The mate guffawed. Cried Rodvard, in despair; “But sers, this
captain—I pray you . . . it is not for this . . . he is . . .”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_355">355</div>
<p>“You shall clearly speak your trouble; for it is the will of love
that nothing is to be hidden.”</p>
<p>Rodvard felt the rosy flush light up his cheek. “Well, then, it
is not for any failure of duty that this captain pursues me, but
because I would not be the partner of his unnatural lust.”</p>
<p>With an exclamation, the ambassador of Dossola brought his
hand down on the table, and the hard-faced mate gave a growl,
but the Initiates were as unmoved as mountains. One of them
said; “No lust is more natural or less so than another, since all are
contrary to the law of love, and the soul in which love runs full
tide may and should give to this unreal world of matter all that
it desires, without imputation of sin. Yet we do find that if the
wrong cause for this trial has been stated, there is a basis of appeal
to our law. We would hear of this further.”</p>
<p>He signed; the writer spoke to the Kjermanash, while the mate
glared venom at them, his glances darting from one to the other.
The seamen seemed hesitant, especially the fat young one, to
whom the writer chiefly addressed himself. Though Rodvard could
not understand a word, the voice-lilt told clearly enough how the
tale was going. Now the lad began to catch at his breath and
sniffle, saying a few more words. The mate’s head turned slowly
round (hardest murder staring from his eyes), while his hand slid,
slid toward belt and knife—</p>
<p>“No!” cried Rodvard. “He’s going to kill him!” The mate leaped
snarling to his feet, bringing out the knife with the same motion, but
Rodvard’s shout had quickened the guards. One stepped forward,
striking with his truncheon, while the other seized his man from
behind, arm around neck. A roar from the mate, squeaks from the
Kjermanash, and with a crash of heavy bodies, the big man was
down and firmly held, cursing and trying to wring a broken hand.
One of the Initiates said serenely; “This is an act of self-accusation”;
then to the writer; “Do these also accuse?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Brother. The lesser one says that he has been this captain’s
catamite and that Ser Bergelin was cabin-keeper to the
captain and must have been solicited to such purpose, for this
was his custom with all. They say further that an order was given
to throw Ser Bergelin into the sea. Further, they say they were
instructed as to what they should report on the repairing of the
mast.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_356">356</div>
<p>“Love is illumination,” said the Initiate. His companion; “Our
decision is that this mate shall pay a fine of ten Dossolan scudi for
ruffling the peace of this court; but for having brought false accusations
against one under the protection of the Prophet, he shall be
submitted to detention of the body and instruction in doctrine until
such time as the court shall release him.”</p>
<p>The mate gave a yell. “I protest,” said the well-dressed ambassador,
“against the condemnation of one of our gracious Queen’s
subjects on perjured evidence and as the result of the actions of
one who is not only himself a criminal, but a provocator of others.”</p>
<p>“Your protest is recorded. We declare the business of this case
has been dispatched.” The two Initiates rose as though their
muscles were controlled by a single mind, but as the Dossolan
rose also and the guards frogmarched their prisoner out, one of
them looked at Rodvard. “You will remain, young man,” he said.</p>
<h3>II</h3>
<p>They sat down again. One of them said; “Be seated,” and the
pair stared at him unmoving with those impassive eyes. The inspection
lasted a good three or four minutes; Rodvard itched and
hardly dared to squirm. One of them addressed him:</p>
<p>“You bear a Blue Star.”</p>
<p>(It was not a question, but a statement; Rodvard did not feel
an answer called for, therefore made none.)</p>
<p>“Be warned,” said the second Initiate, “that it is somewhat less
potent here than elsewhere, since it is the command of the God
of love that all shall deal in truth, and therefore there is little hidden
for it to reveal.”</p>
<p>“But I—” began Rodvard. The Initiate held up his hand for
silence:</p>
<p>“Doubtless you thought that your charm permitted you to read
all that is in the mind. Learn, young man, that the value of this
stone being founded on witchery and evil, will teach you only the
thoughts that stem from the Evil god; as hatred, licentiousness,
cruelty, deception, murder.”</p>
<p>Now Rodvard was silent (thinking swiftly that this might be
true, that although he was no veteran of this jewel, it had never
told him anything good about anyone).</p>
<p>“Where is your witch?” said one of the Initiates.</p>
<p>“In Dossola.”</p>
<p>“It will be impossible for you to return there with the case of
today’s court standing against you, and the mate of your ship in
our detention, by our necessary action.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps, in time—” began Rodvard.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_357">357</div>
<p>“Nor can you well bring her here,” said the other Initiate. “The
practice of witchery is not forbidden among us as it is by the laws
of your country. But we hold it to be a sin against the God of
love, and it is required that those found in witchery undergo a
period of instruction in the couvertines of the Myonessae.”</p>
<p>(A wild wave of longing for Lalette swept across him, drowning
the formless regret of leaving behind the Sons of the New
Day—a new life—an empty life—“No spirit in it,” the old man had
said.) Before Rodvard could think of anything to say, one of the
Initiates spoke again:</p>
<p>“All life in this material world is a turning from one void to
another, and shall be escaped only by filling the void with love.
And this is the essence of Spirit.”</p>
<p>(A jar like a fall from a height told him that he was facing
men who could follow his thought almost as clearly as he could
that of others, and Rodvard half thought of how the butler at
Sedad Vix had said it was possible to conceal one’s thoughts; half
wondered what these strange men wanted with him.) The strong,
resonant voice went on; “It is not the thought of the mind, but
the purpose of the heart for which we seek; for the mind is as
material as the world on which it looks—a creature of evil—while
the other is arcane.”</p>
<p>Said the second Initiate, as though this matter had now been
settled; “What is your profession?”</p>
<p>“I am a clerk. I was in the Office of Pedigree at Netznegon.”</p>
<p>“Here we have no pedigrees. Soil-tillers are needed; but if you
lack the skill or desire for such labor, you may serve in the commercial
counter which places for sale the products of the Prophet’s
benevolence.”</p>
<p>“I think I would prefer the second,” said Rodvard (not really
thinking it at all; for tillage and commercial clerkship, he held to
be equal miseries, yet the latter might offer a better chance of
release).</p>
<p>The Initiates stood up. “We will inform the stylarion at the
door, who will find you harborage and instruct you where you are
to report for work. You must give him your money of Dossolan
coinage, which he will replace with that of ours.”</p>
<p>“But I have no money of any coinage, none at all,” said Rodvard.</p>
<p>The two stopped in their progress toward the door and turned
on him faces which, for the first time, were struck with frown.
One of them said severely; “Young man, you have evidently been
under the control of the god of Evil. Unless this financial stringency
disappears, we shall be required to order that you take doctrinal
instruction; and it were better if you did so in any case. The
stylarion will give you a warrant for new garments and your other
immediate needs, but all must be strictly repaid, and within no
long time.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_358">358</div>
<p>They left. Rodvard thought their final remarks a very strange
pendant to the generosity they had otherwise shown; and wondered
unhappily whether he would ever see Lalette again.</p>
<h3>III</h3>
<p>The lodging assigned was in a room over the shop of a tailor
named Gualdis, at a corner where three streets ran together. The
man had a fat wife and three daughters, one of whom brought
from a cookshop on the corner a big dish of lentils and greens
with bits of sausage through it, from which they all ate together.
The girls chartered profusely, curious as so many magpies about
Rodvard and how life was lived in Dossola, for they were too
young to remember when Prince Pavinius had turned from Grand
Governor to Prophet and the Tritulaccan war began.</p>
<p>Rodvard liked the middle one best; called Leece. She had
thick and vividly black eyebrows that gave her eyes a sparkle
when she laughed, which was frequently. (The Blue Star told
him that behind the sparkle crouched a kind of dumb question
whether he might not be the destined man, and the thought of
being sought by her was not unpleasant to him, but she turned
her head so rapidly and talked so much that he could make out
no more.)</p>
<p>After he had been shown to his bed, the usual sleeplessness of
a changed condition of life came to him, and he began to examine
his thoughts. He felt happy beneath all, and doubting whether he
were entitled to, searched for some background of the sense of
approaching peril which had held him the night Lalette came to
his pensionnario door, and again when he spoke with Tuolén the
butler. But it was nowhere; all seemed well in spite of the fact that
he was more or less a prisoner in this land. The common report
had it that this was not an unusual experience, that Amorosian
agents circulated all through the homeland, recruiting for their
own purposes especially those with any touch of witchery, and
he thought that might be true. The Initiate on the ship had taken
him very readily into protection, and if he were like those in the
court, must have known that Rodvard bore a Blue Star.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_359">359</div>
<p>Yet it seemed to him that these Amorosians were so well disposed
toward each other that one might do worse to live out a
life among them, in spite of a certain unearthliness among their
Initiates. Now also he began to look back toward Dossola and to
understand why it was that Mancherei should be so hated, most
particularly by the upper orders. For it seemed that if he could
but return, persuade Remigorius, Mathurin and the rest how the
people of the Prophet lived among themselves, the Sons of the
New Day might fulfill their mission by striking an alliance in
Mancherei. No, never (he answered himself); that would be to
set the son above the parent, the colony over the homeland, and
politic would never permit it.</p>
<p>Yet was it not cardinal in the thinking of the Sons of the New
Day that to hold such a thing wrong was in itself wrong? The
evil in the old rule was that it set one man above another for no
other reason but his birth. Was not Pyax the Zigraner, with his odd
smell and slanted eye, entitled to as much consideration as Baron
Brunivar? Why not then, up with the standard of Mancherei and
its Prophet? For that, what had Pavinius found so wrong in this
place that he had deserted the very rule he founded?</p>
<p>Rodvard twisted in his bed, and thought—of course; I have
been slow indeed to miss the flaw. For though there were no
episcopals here, the Initiates surely filled their office. If freedom
from tyranny were won only by making episcopals into judges,
then it was only a viler slavery. Was life, then, a question of
whether spirit or body should be free? But on this question Rodvard
found himself becoming so involved that he went to sleep, and
did not wake till day burned behind the shutters.</p>
<p>Leece brought him his breakfast on a tray and wished him a
merry morning, but when he would have spoken to her, said she
must hurry to her employ. (Her eyes had some message he could
not quite read; if the Initiates were right, it would be a gentle one,
and kindly.) His mind was more on her than on his new fortune
as he went forth, and he missed a turning in the streets, so that
his task began badly with a tardy arrival.</p>
<p>The building of his toil, like so many in Charalkis, was new
and of brick, with mullioned windows along the street front and
a low, wide door at one side, through which carts passed empty
to pick up bales at a platform within. Rodvard entered to see a
row of clerks on stools sitting before a single long desk and writing
away as though for dear life. A short, round man paced up and
down nervously behind them, now and again speaking to one of
the writers, or hearing a question from another.</p>
<p>This short man came over to Rodvard and looked up and down
his length. “I am the protostylarion,” he announced. “Are you
Bergelin, the Dossolan clerk? You are in retard by a third of a
glass. The fine is two obulas. Come this way.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_360">360</div>
<p>He led down to the inner end of the desk, where under the
least light stood a vacant stool. “Here is your place. For the beginning,
you have the task of posting to the records of individual
couvertines from those of the general sales by ships. Here—this
is a ship’s manifest from a voyage to Tritulacca. Three clocks from
the couvertine Arpik, as you see, have been sold for eight reuls
Tritulaccan. You will open a sheet for Arpik, on which noting this
fact, one sheet for each couvertine, then place a mark here to
show that the matter is cared for, not pausing to translate—yes,
Ivrigo?”</p>
<p>The interrupter held his ledger in hand and diddled from foot
to foot, as though being held from a cabinet of ease. “Oh, Ser
Maltusz, I crave pardon, but I cannot carry through this posting
according to system until I have a ruling on where falls the sea-loss
in such a case.”</p>
<p>“Hm, let me see—why, stupidity, look there! It is plainly stated
that no offer had been made on the said lost bales. They were
therefore couvertine goods still, and not regarding whether the
loss were caused by piracy or not, it must fall there.” He turned
back to Rodvard. “Do not try to translate into our money, for that
is the function of another. You are expected to finish this manifest
by evening.”</p>
<p>“I have never done this—”</p>
<p>“Work is prayer. There is the lamp.”</p>
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