An Exaltation of Stars (1973) Anthology

by Terry Carr (Ed. )

  He searched my face, and told me he was sure I was not trying to deceive him; but was I not mistaken? “For my life began,” he said, “in a nighttime room where I woke and knew I must go out into the world and learn the ways of it and become a messenger. I knew this from the Companion who spoke to me there, and came with me on my journey out of Nuber.” He was speaking slowly, reminiscently, as if partly to himself. “I worked on farms. Sometimes I lived in the woods among the wild things. You see, I had never lived before—everything was new. I was held in a Moha prison once, for vagrancy. But before all this, you understand, I can’t have been anything more than a germ of thought at the heart of chaos.”

  “Did you not change to your young man’s form from a bony thirteen-year-old boy just into puberty, with a certain scar on his arm?”

  He answered reasonably: “I suppose I did. Maybe there was a life before the one I know; some tell me there must have been. Forgive me if it’s unkind—I can’t pretend to remember you.”

  “Sidney Sturm? Jon Rohan?” I watched the beautiful saint’s face, my anger not quite dying; maybe it has not quite died. “Louis Graz? Louis Graz and his wife, who died giving birth to a mue?”

  “I am sorry, sir. Who were they?”

  “Your father and mother, and mine. I am Jermyn Graz. I cared for you and loved you. I do now.” I pulled the amulet from under my jacket. “You left this behind, Leo, in the dormitory of the Priests’ School at Nuber eight years ago.”

  He opened the applewood box. Now, Sidney had made the fastening with such uncanny skill that it was quite concealed; no one could open it without a fumbling search unless he already knew the trick. Brother Francis opened it without hesitation. He looked on the clay image and said: “Oh, no! I could never have seen this before.” He let the box drop, as if it hurt his fingers.

  Outside the tent began a screaming uproar, and two soldiers of the Katskil Imperial Guard burst in, seizing my brother by the arms. “Are you he they call Brother Francis?”

  “I am Brother Francis.”

  “Then I have a warrant for your arrest on a charge of treason against the sovereign people and the Emperor.”

  “I have done no treason.”

  “Not for us to judge. You are to come with us.”

  He made no resistance. His eyes warned me that any effort of mine to help would only worsen this new trouble. I have tried to imagine that his loss of memory was assumed to prevent my involvement in the disaster that he knew was about to overtake him; but no—those eyes were surely not seeing me as Jermyn Graz. Following in my stricken obscurity as the soldiers led him away, I saw how a platoon of the Guards was dispersing his followers with cudgels and whips, and gathering in some of them to be tied together like a string of slaves. The girl, that gentle Beata who had acted as my guide, flung herself at one of the men in a blind effort to reach Brother Francis, and was pushed to the ground. Her wrists were bound and she was carried off on a giant shoulder, unconscious, limp as a sack of meal.

  As Your Beneficence knows, Brother Francis was taken to the military prison at Sofran and held there incommunicado for ten months. Through autumn and winter the war ground on. In April was fought the battle of Brakabin Meadows, and Jon Rohan, who had better have died there, wounded. Only after the war was over did I learn how another band of pilgrims had marched south from central Moha led by a disciple of Brother Francis, one Sister Adonaia. That group was intercepted in a mountain pass by Mohan soldiers, hunted down through the thickets, and butchered. As if, my lord, the two armies had agreed like feral lovers to sweep aside anything that threatened the consummation of their squalid embrace.

  I will not try to tell of the trial. Let the Examiners study the transcript. Let them also consider the revulsion within the Church itself after the war. Let them consider how the new Patriarch Benedict denounced the verdict against Brother Francis on many counts, saying that it was tainted by political expediency as well as bigotry—the Church had been hired, he said in effect, to do the hatchet work of an insane Emperor. (There does seem no doubt that the Emperor Mahonn was witless in the last year of his life, and that he was dressed in a wolfskin and drinking fresh chicken’s blood when the assassins found him.) Let the Examiners consider how Patriarch Benedict invoked the Third Century ecclesiastical law Contra Superbiam, placing the whole Empire under a year’s penance. Without this extreme reversal of the Church’s position I could not have entered the monastic life.*

  * W.B. writes: “He convicts himself under Contra Superbiam. Who is he to judge the Church and speak as though it were subject to change?”

  Sidney and I were refused admission to the Patriarchal Palace during the Preparatory Interrogations. We searched out Jon Rohan. How embittered he was—but he was drifting away from us even before the war. I told him of finding Leopold, of the refusal to admit us; we begged him to go in our place. A wounded veteran with the Iron Wheel of St. Franklin was less likely to be refused. But Jon would not believe Leopold could have become Brother Francis, whose very name Jon loathed. For some baffled words of mine defending the actions of Brother Francis, I thought poor distracted Jon would attack us with his crutch. His wife, disheartened, lovely Sara, begged us to go.

  Then at Leopold’s final trial and examination at the Lecture Hall of the Palace, I was admitted (but Sidney was not—perhaps they feared his wealth and distinction would weigh too heavily in the prisoner’s favor) and the Archbishop of Orange permitted me to testify—what a mockery! Leopold, thin and haggard in his chains, denied me again; but not in quite the same way, my Lord Abbot. I felt he might be denying me for my own protection, lest I burn with him. Those judges were certainly determined to have his life. All but one perhaps: I read compassion in the face of one of them; but it was not a strong face, and he did not speak while I was there.

  Quickly the Archbishop’s questioning led to the clay image. I was prepared for that trap. Seeing more clearly than I, Sidney had persuaded me to leave the image hidden at his house in Kingstone. If those judges connected Leopold to it, they would make of it idolatry, witchcraft, who knows what? I did badly, my lord—stammered, wept, disgraced myself. I denied knowledge of the image, was called a perjurer (as of course I was), dragged from the Hall, and searched. Sidney and I were banished from the Holy City.

  And Jon did testify, that day. They must have held him in another anteroom, for we never saw him. He—

  I will not write of that. It must be in the transcript.

  Condemned, Leopold was taken to Kingstone. Behind a chain of polis and soldiers he was drawn in a slow cart to the stake in the marketplace. I was not the only one who called to him in love—if he could have heard it. I struggled to the edge of the crowd. A guard recognized me, secured me with an arm bent up behind my back, and grumbled at my ear: “Quiet, fool! We don’t want to arrest you.”

  They lit the faggots at my brother’s feet. The wood was damp; the smoke flung itself upward in a dirty cloud. I heard my brother cry out: “My Companion, have you forsaken me?” Moments later, above the priests’ chanting, the flames, the rumbling of the storm that was reaching over the city, he called me. Very clearly I heard him call: “Jermyn, I have remembered you.”

  Fr. Jermyn, O.S.S., Precentor

  ∫2

  By Maeron of Nupal, Fr. Lit., Clericus Tribunalis Ecclesiae in the Patriarchate of Urbanus II: being a Digest of the Terminal Trial of the Heretic known as

  Brother Francis before the Court of Ecclesiastical Inquiry at Huber, in the month of October in the Year of Abraham 427, His Grace the Archbishop of

  Orange Presiding Judge.

  His Grace the Archbishop of Orange being present, the Court was opened on the 9th day of October, at or about the hour of Tierce, and before the judges was brought for final examination and judgment the prisoner calling himself Brother Francis and reputed by some to be one Leopold Graz son of the cobbler Louis Graz (deceased) of Twenyet Road in the City of Kingstone, this individual called Brother Francis being charged with her
esy and certain related criminal actions as set forth in eight Articles.

  Present on the dais were also the Most Reverend Jeffrey Sortees Lord Bishop of Nupal and, representing the Secular Estate, the Right Honorable Tomas Robson Earl of Cornal, Supervisor of the Ecclesiastical Prisons at Nuber.

  The man called Brother Francis being present, the judge explained to the prisoner his rights at law, reminding him that during the Preparatory Interrogations he had refused the assistance of ecclesiastical counsel, and inquired whether he yet persisted in such refusal now that the matter had come to the point of final trial wherein he stood imperiled of his life.

  The prisoner said he needed no defense but what he possessed.

  His Grace said: Do you mean simply that you are in God’s care?—but the Lord surely would have men aid one another in extremity.

  The prisoner replied that he would not ask for counsel.

  His Grace suggested that a defending counsel might aid that search for truth which was one of the major concerns of the trial. The prisoner replied that no other knew his heart, therefore no other should assume the burden of his defense.

  Then, having been instructed concerning the sanctity of the oath, and that he ought to tell the truth as much for his soul’s sake as out of respect for Church and Law, the prisoner said that he would tell the truth so far as he knew it, and so far as he was not forbidden to tell it by his conscience or by that Companion who to him was a second conscience and whose will he had accepted as a guide.

  His Grace the Archbishop told him he could not make any such reservations concerning the oath; and the Earl of Comal also admonished him, saying that he was demanding a license to lie.

  The prisoner said: Not so, my lord: I will not lie. But only God, if God lives, can command my mind; therefore I will not swear to tell everything, lest later I be forsworn.

  His Grace asked: Do you doubt that God lives?

  The man called Brother Francis said: Does any man live altogether without doubt, Your Grace? I have doubted it as one may doubt that the sun will rise.

  His Grace said: It is perhaps a point of philosophy.

  Bishop Sortees said: As for the reservation on the oath, Your Grace, is it not a reservation that any of us might make? If made out of true deference to the will of God I see no evil in it.

  The Earl of Cornal said: But there is that matter of what he calls his Companion.

  The prisoner then said that he would take the oath, but in no other way than he had stated, even if the torture were renewed and repeated until he died.

  His Grace said: Well, let him be sworn to tell the truth as he understands it. I suppose no man can do more. We must not lose our way in irresponsible debate.

  On these terms the prisoner willingly knelt, and having rested his forehead on the Book of Abraham, he made over his heart the sign of the Wheel and swore to tell the truth.

  Then was read to the man called Brother Francis the First Article of the Charge.

  Article I: The man going by the name of Brother Francis is charged with making unproven claim to be a messenger of God.

  Questioned as to the truth of this, the prisoner said: I do not claim and have never claimed it.

  His Grace said: But you have called yourself a messenger?

  The prisoner said: I have, but cannot tell who sent me.

  His Grace asked: Cannot, or will not, my son?

  The prisoner said: I cannot, Your Grace. I do not know.

  Earl Robson said: It might have been the Devil?

  The prisoner said: I have never had reason to think so.

  Reminded by His Grace that some of his followers had declared under the ordeal that they believed him to be sent by God, the prisoner said they must have spoken whatever their hearts believed, but not what they knew, since he did not know it himself.

  Earl Robson of Cornal said: I can’t understand this, a man who carries a message, or thinks he does, not knowing who sent him.

  The prisoner said: But for the direction of my Companion, I would not call myself a messenger; and my Companion may well be of the chosen of God. I think he is; but he has not told me so.

  The Earl of Cornal then remarked that, with deference to his colleagues of the Ecclesia, he considered the prisoner had already convicted himself under the First Article of the Charge. His Grace requested the view of the Lord Bishop of Nupal, who said that while he felt the prisoner had so far spoken with reason and humility, he would not further commit himself at this moment.

  Then was read to the prisoner the Second Article of the Charge.

  Article II: The man going by the name of Brother Francis is

  charged with accepting guidance in all his actions from a being outside the common perceptions of men, whom he calls his Companion, in defiance of the First Law of Holy Church as laid down in the Book of Abraham, Chapter Five, Section Seven: THOU SHALT SET NO AUTHORITY ABOVE THE AUTHORITY OF ALMIGHTY GOD AS DEFINED BY HIS ANOINTED.

  Questioned as to the truth of the charge, the prisoner stated that he had accepted the guidance of his Companion in all actions, but only in the manner in which others might accept the guidance of priests, believing that their counsel would not be contrary to God’s will so far as any human being can know it.

  His Grace said: But you have no reason except your own opinion, the feeling of your own heart, to believe that this Companion can be regarded as one of God’s anointed?

  After reflection the prisoner said: No, Your Grace: it is true that I have formed this belief in the light of my own opinion and conscience.

  His Grace said: You will admit, then, that unless it can be proved that your Companion is one of God’s anointed, you stand convicted of heresy under the Second Article?

  The prisoner said: I can hardly deny it.

  Bishop Sortees asked: But you have sincerely believed that your Companion would require nothing of you that violated God’s laws?

  The prisoner said: Yes, Father, I believe that.

  The Earl of Comal inquiring whether the prisoner had known his Companion by any other name, the prisoner denied it. Asked by the Earl to describe the Companion, the prisoner said he had seen him only with the eyes of his mind.

  The Earl of Cornal said: You arc unreasonable. You are attempting to confuse the Court with metaphysics.

  The prisoner said: Mv lord, I use what words I find. I know my Companion; I do not sec him as I see your lordship in the flesh.

  Mis Grace the judge asked: Is he with you now, my son?

  The prisoner said: No, Your Grace.

  His Grace asked: Is it long since he has been with you?

  The prisoner said: It has been long. lie has not been with me since the day of my arrest.

  His Grace asked: Never during the Preparatory Interrogations? He was not with you on the clay when, because of contumacious refusals, it was necessary for you to undergo physical persuasion?

  The prisoner said: Had he been with me then, Your Grace, I could have borne the torture with a better heart.

  His Grace asked: Do you draw any conclusion from this absence of your Companion while you have been in the custody of the Church?

  The prisoner said: I draw no conclusion, Your Grace. I remember too well that in the ten months of my imprisonment in the military prison at Sofran, when I was accused of treason but not of heresy, my Companion was not with me.

  His Grace asked: Do you think it possible then that your Companion may have been only the substance of an illusion which has now passed from you? You must know, my son, that the Church has no wish to punish anyone for a malady of the mind.

  The prisoner replied quickly and firmly that his Companion was no illusion.

  Then the Earl of Comal asked: Have you ever accompanied your Companion to certain meetings?

  The man called Brother Francis said: He was often with me when I spoke to the people, to those who joined my company.

  Earl Robson said: That is not the question. Have you ever gone, with this being you call a Compani
on, to meetings of any group called a coven, a meeting of those who deny the divinity of our Savior Abraham and of his prophet of Old Time Jesus Christ?

  The prisoner said: No.

  The Earl said: You will answer with respect.

  The prisoner said: I know nothing of witchcraft, my lord, but I believe it to be a delusion.

  The Earl said: Your Grace, is not that heresy in itself?

  His Grace the Archbishop replied that the entire question of witchcraft was a matter of dispute, and that no doubt much light would be shed on it in the next Council on the Creed. He suggested also that with regard to this prisoner, this line of inquiry had apparently been exhausted, and with negative result, in the Preparatory Interrogations, and during the physical persuasion that the Earl himself had attended as Supervisor of the Prisons. His Grace then asked the prisoner: If your Companion should come to you while you are on trial here, will you know it?

  The prisoner said: I will know it, Your Grace.

  His Grace asked: And will you tell us of it?

  The prisoner said: If my Companion permits it.

  His Grace said: Have a care, mv son, how you set the whim of this unknown Companion above the authority of the Ecclesia.

  The prisoner said: I have already stated that I have obeyed all the directions of my Companion, even against my will.

  The Lord Bishop of Nupal asked him: But if your Companion required you to perform some act forbidden by the laws of God, you would not perform it, would you?

  The prisoner said: Father, I think this could not happen.

  Flis Grace said: But you must answer the Lord Bishop’s question, and do so remembering your oath.

  The prisoner said: I think the will and the laws of God have always been explained by some human agency, and these are fallible.

  His Grace said: My son, Bishop Sortees’ most kindly worded question deserved no such response, which we find over the borderline of heresy. If you continue headstrong and impudent, you will compel us to find you guilty under the Second Article.