The Ultimate Stonemage: A Modest Autobiography (7 page)

Now, Eon Vulpine spoke these words in tones that seemed earnest, and his eyes too expressed honesty—so much so, in fact, that I resolved, as a result of this encounter, never again to trust the honesty of people by their faces or by their words. For you see, my dream had predicted he would cheat me. Also, the bishopa had told me how much she had admired my building and even expressed her desire to employ me herself, so it was inconceivable she should have cancelled the construction.

At last, through the power of pure reason, which shines upon all statements like a great beacon, the truth had been revealed: Eon Vulpine was lying. Unfortunately, I reached this conclusion only after I had left his office, and the mood was no longer in me to return and to kill him.

In any event, I knew how to deal with the situation: I sent word to Vulpine that I would have to take a few days to begin plans for the lighthouse, then I boarded my ship and set sail for
Quebec, a few score miles west down the river. I took my sack of arrans with me, and I have not returned to
Ramport since.

Now, Eon Vulpine had wronged me, that is certain, but you may wonder whether my act of making off with the money was just, for, while it can be an honourable act to kill your enemies, it is never honourable to rob them. Yet consider this: I was originally promised five thousand arrans for the commission, and yet, thanks to his treachery, I received only one thousand. Therefore it was I, not he, who was robbed, and to the tune of four thousand arrans, even after accounting for the sack of coins which he had given me. You can see from this that my actions were honourable.

And they were prudent too, for, while I suffered the loss of a large fortune to the fox, I nevertheless managed, through heeding my vision, and through skilful timing, to minimize the degree of those losses.

The Fourth Part

In Which I Tell Of The Many Good Things Which I Received From The Bishopa And My Execution Of Certain Duties In Quebec

I arrived at the docks
of Quebec the next morning and made my way through the city in the direction of Quebec Cathedral, which glittered like a jewel before me.

Quebec is a principally a port for fishing ships and ocean traders. Its industrious people also produce very fine leatherwork. The architecture in the city’s centre is attractive but unremarkable, save perhaps for the
Abbey of Saint John the Weak, a long building, which spirals inwards within a great circle, symbolizing his holy vacillations. This abbey houses more than five hundred monks of the
New Carolingian Order, the most ascetic in the
Eastern Gnostic Church, although you will also see many other types of monks and clerics about the city.

For strategic reasons, Quebec Cathedral lies a half-mile outside the city’s centre. It is a heavily fortified structure, and yet its design displays the utmost grace and delicacy. The walls are a deep blue mineral fusion, laced with platinum tubing enclosing religious scenes of unsurpassed beauty and artistic accomplishment. A magnificent central tower rises six hundred feet above the building, and here are situated not only the bells, which are plated in gold, but also a military lookout post. Four more towers, each three hundred feet high, occupy the corners of the cathedral. These are coated in sheets of purple amethyst, and atop each tower stands a great golden crucifix, cunningly worked so the cross can be quickly pulled down upon a pair of hinged arms, strung, and transformed into a powerful and accurate ballista, capable of hurling an explosive javelin many miles upon the enemies of the church. This I learned only much later of course.

I made my way to the cathedral’s propylon, where I requested an audience with the bishopa. To my surprise and pleasure, the audience was granted within mere minutes. Upon entering the building, escorted by two myrmidons in tunics of red and gold, I was instantly struck by the sumptuous and tasteful decoration, which included rich carpets and a plenitude of fine artworks—including an impressive collection of war scenes by
Tybalt.

I was escorted to a great hall, much like a king’s throne room, where the bishopa herself looked down from a richly upholstered dais bench placed more than twenty feet above the floor, topped by an exquisite red baldachin. There were many bishops in attendance, and priests too, and along the walls stood more than fifty myrmidons, with an equal number standing guard on a great balcony which surrounded the room.

As to the woman herself, I was immediately struck by her great beauty and serenity, which seemed to have increased since our previous brief meeting in
Ramport. I was also impressed by the great wisdom in her face, something I had not noticed before. Upon her forehead, she bore a few faint lines, which denoted her deep and charitable concern for the many wards of her spiritual domain. She wore deep purple robes, modestly adorned with jewels of all colours, and with fine gold thread, and trimmed at the collar and cuffs with what I first took to be ermine, though later I learned it was the far more precious fur of baby albino sea otters.

She then asked me my business, in a soft voice which carried a lovely vibrato quality.

I then said, “Your Excellency, I had thought my business to concern some financial matter, but now I find this has been swept from my mind as trivial, for, as it strikes me now, the only business which seems of import is to tell Your Excellency how struck and overcome I am by your great beauty.”

Now, at this the bishops who stood in attendance upon the bishopa began exchanging disapproving glances. It was clear, however, the bishopa herself was well pleased by my words, for she gave me a radiant and lovely smile, saying: “Come closer—I wish to see you better.”

I obeyed and climbed the steps to come closer, and she looked upon me for a few moments and then nodded approvingly. “You have a sweet tongue,” she said. “Such language is not normally considered appropriate in addressing me, but I see from your face you spoke in earnest and from your heart.” And then she raised her voice so all in attendance might hear her better and said: “I only wish everyone who addressed me would speak with such sincerity, for I am very often forced to hear false and hypocritical words.” Then, speaking once more to me: “But tell me, Yreth, what was it that troubled you before you entered my hall?”

“Truly, Your Excellency,” I replied, “as I stand now, so much closer to you than before, it is hard for me even to remember my first business. And yet I am loath to waste your time. So, if you will pardon the action, I will close my eyes as I address you, for only in this way will I be able to speak coherently.”

To this plan she gave her assent, and then I closed my eyes and explained to her of the way Eon Vulpine had cheated me of my commission. “Further,” I said, “he claimed it had been Your Excellency who gave the order to cancel the work. Naturally this seemed inconceivable to me, for you spoke to me yourself of your feelings for my modest plans. Therefore, I was forced to conclude that Eon Vulpine had lied to me. This conclusion was supported by a prophetic dream I had in which I was told that what I would lose to the fox I would gain one hundredfold from the bird—though naturally I do not follow such visions blindly.”

She laughed at this, for I unwittingly spoke these words with my eyes still closed.

I then told her how I had minimized my losses by escaping with Eon Vulpine’s payment to me.

She nodded, saying: “Your actions do credit to your integrity and your judgement both, for indeed, you are correct in your suspicions about this man’s lies. It was very proper you should come to me and seek my advice in this affair, for I fear evil is frequently spoken of me in my absence, and such words are all too often believed. Yet now I shall see to it that this Eon Vulpine is sought out and punished for his crime against you and for his slanders against my name. As to your vision, I am certain this was a divine revelation, for my full name is
Lenata ad-Hern, and a hern, as you will know being from the east, is a type of bird. Moreover, you will find I am indeed in a position to compensate you for what you lost to Vulpine, although not one hundredfold. But then again, perhaps I am mistaken, for prophetic dreams often contain truths beyond the imaginings even of a bishopa.”

I said, “If I may serve Your Excellency in any way whatever, it will be my privilege and my honour to do so. You have only to state the task and I shall do it.”

“Hear my will then,” she said. “Yreth, I wish you to build for me a second cathedral, for this one has grown too small for my needs. For its design, you must use the plans which you had intended for
Ramport—your statue has all the properties of greatness and spirituality which are required for a cathedral, and in any event was far too grand a structure to be wasted on Ramport. I shall pay you five thousand arrans for this task, as the town had promised you, and you shall be given such assistants as you may require.”

Upon hearing these words from this lovely lady, I fell to my knees and began to gnaw upon the base of her dais bench, my tears of joy blending with my own saliva and pieces of wood, until at last the bishopa commanded several bishops to escort me from that hall and to another great chamber, the Ambassadorial Suite, which I was to have as my own during my stay in Quebec.

Now, the bishopa was very anxious to have the
Grief
built, but, unlike that swindler Vulpine, she had the arrans to pay for the job in full. As you may imagine, she and I spent many weeks in close consultation, for, while she was awestruck by my original design, there were also certain practical alterations which she felt desirable—for instance, she wished the walls to be heavily armoured, so the building might be protected from attack. Also, she wanted a great worship hall placed at the ground level, and within this hall were to be placed dreadful weapons of war, so sinners might be reminded of God’s terrible wrath. And she asked that the building’s many rooms be sized and equipped in such a manner as to make them suitable as a barracks for myrmidons—for she had nearly six thousand myrmidons at that time and most were housed in and near to the cathedral.

Of course, when I understood her desire to make the
Grief
into a military as well as a spiritual stronghold, I had many ideas of my own. I modified the plans so the eyes of the statue housed ballistas, and I added subtle machicolations to the ears, and from them could be poured great vats containing
Oil of Aenu, which would then flow down the body of the statue-king and along the stone sheets, engulfing and destroying any attackers. The
Grief
concealed other traps and hidden weapons too, but for various reasons these must remain a secret.

We decided to situate the edifice beside the original cathedral, just to the south, and connected by a road of gold, so the
bishopa might easily use both buildings for her religious duties.

These few weeks were a time of remarkable plans then. But they were remarkable in another way too, which I will now explain.

The rigours of my work required that I rose before dawn each morning and made my way downstairs from my chamber, and thence across the cathedral’s central courtyard, which was covered in snow, for it was winter. I then walked to the bishopa’s chambers to show her my work of the previous night. She would examine my plans and changes as she sat in her bed, clothed in her purple nightrobes and night-cloak, and during these early hours we would discuss further changes, and details of the building, and so on, for, as you may imagine, the appointment scroll of a bishopa is a very busy one during the rest of the day.

Well, one morning, as we examined the plans, the bishopa asked me to come closer to explain some minor detail or other. I sat upon the bed to do so, talking for a time, and then suddenly I felt a great silence fall upon us both. For you see, I was suddenly overcome with a feeling of the deepest and most profound love. Slowly I turned and looked into the face of the bishopa, and it was clear she too was overwhelmed by the same strong feeling.

You will understand me when I say both modesty and my great respect for this beautiful woman prevent me from describing the details of the hours that followed. Suffice it only to say that the bishopa sent word her appointments of the day were to be cancelled, and you may be sure this lovely lady proved herself more capable than the finest harlots of
Cyprus.

During the following months, our romance continued—at first in secret, as I continued to visit her chambers under the pretence of having further modifications approved, but later openly, for it was the bishopa’s desire that I should dine with her at all her meals and accompany her on many of her trips around the region.

Now, this caused a great commotion in many quarters. In the town, the people said I sought only rank and power through the match, for they said I surely could not be drawn to a woman of the bishopa’s age. This, of course, was nonsense, for I have already spoken of the bishopa’s great beauty.

It is true she had passed a little over eight decades upon the world, while I had passed only three, but when a woman has such spiritual radiance as was possessed by the bishopa, you may be certain that such matters as her age, and the colour of her hair, and the quantity of her teeth seem trivial indeed.

And in any event, few would pass comment if a wealthy man of eighty years—or even ninety—took to himself a mistress who was a half-century his junior. Why, then, should the great and holy love between the bishopa and young Yreth be the cause of such enmity? But cause it was, and there was great unrest in the town, stirred largely by the many monks who lived there, who were bitter and frustrated by their vows of celibacy.

Within the confines of the cathedral, the hatred was of a different kind. All the male bishops detested me with a great passion, for there was not a man among them who would not have gladly taken that lovely bishopa for his own, had the opportunity arisen. And as for the women bishops, I believe it was my attentions they craved, for I was a handsome devil in those days, very tall and strong, with black hair, so when those women saw I had been taken by the bishopa, they hated me out of jealousy. Yet the bishops and the priests dared not insult the bishopa by mocking her age, so instead they selected a different pretext for opposing the affair, speaking many words about the impropriety of a romantic liaison between a member of the clergy and one of her congregation.

However, the bishopa, in her wisdom, very quickly put an end to this debate, for she raised me to the rank of
archbishop, which is higher than a bishop, though lower than a cardinal or bishopa. She placed other honours and ranks upon me, too, giving me the post of
Bath Protector, and
Keeper of the Golden Fig, and
Head Whisk, which assured me the pick of the larder for my meals. Each of these posts carried a large stipend, so I was now receiving more than one hundred arrans per month, in addition to my salary for the construction.

Soon, however, problems arose from a new source. The
Archbishop of Ulph, who was a senior administrator for the bishopa, came before her, saying:

“Your Excellency, it is perhaps unwise to give to this one man so many positions of high honour. These posts involve little work, save for very occasional inspections of the kitchen and orchard staff, and I fear, to those not familiar with Your Excellency’s wisdom, the appointments might appear an overindulgence of our dear brother Yreth, and this could lead to dissent.”

“Of what dissent do you speak?” asked the bishopa.

“It grieves me to report the lies of others,” said the archbishop, “Yet there are evil rumours spreading to the effect that our beloved Yreth is merely a kept plaything of Your Excellency and contributes nothing to the church yet places a great burden upon its treasury.”

Here he spoke truly—there were indeed such rumours, and it was none other than he who was spreading them, but I said nothing, for it would not have been fitting to enter a crude debate in that holy place.